One Million Pieces (on hold)

Chapter Three

Did you just say that you have Ms. Via?” Tiffany exclaimed, her eyes as big as the moon.

“Okay, you are really starting to get annoying.” I snap at her. Can she not see that I am trying to ignore her?

“Well then.” Tiffany gasped, as if she was surprised that I snapped at her.

Then again, she is our president’s children so people are probably sickeningly nice to them so they won’t get on their bad side.

“How dare you talk to my sister that way?” Tirana face started to go as red as her sister’s ribbons.

“Perhaps we should all just start over?” Alina suggested. “Allow me to introduce myself; I am Alina, this is Jay. I understand the two of you are America’s president, Nathan, beautiful daughters, yes?” they nod, annoyance frozen on their faces. “Well, back in Russia, you two have appeared in our magazines a few times and I have to apologize for not recognizing you, but I must confess you are far more beautiful in real life.”

This surprised them. “What a charmer.” Tiffany muttered.

“Charming or not, I am very offended that she dares to try flattery after her rude friend disrespected us. I don’t know about you sister, but I am going to sit someplace else.” Tirana stood up with such force, her actually went upwards and stayed that way for a second, then stomped off, her sister trailing behind.

I stared at Alina, and she returned my confused expression, then we burst into a fit of laughter. “Did you see her face?” I managed out.

“Did you see Tiffany’s? Priceless!”

“Are they really in Russian magazines?” I ask her.

“Oh yes. Quite often, in fact. However, normally, it just speaks of their stupidity and why our leader is so much better than yours is. The two of them are just as annoying, if not more, as they say in the papers.”

Our laughing started to come to a halt as the train started to stop. “Are we there already?”

I look outside our window and see a cornfield and some houses off to the distance.

“Not unless New York has corn fields. I guess they have someone who needs to get on in Iowa.”

Her eyes bugged out. “We are in Iowa? Already?”

“Yeah, I mean this is one of the fastest trains in the world. Isn’t the trains that fast in Russia?”

Alina looked embarrassed, making her cheeks turn rosy. “I never needed to ride a train in Russia, so I don’t know.”

“Why?”

She looked away and her eyes glazed over, as if she was remembering something. “No reason. I just had people to drive me if I needed to go anywhere. Can we please not talk about it?”

“Yeah, sure.”

The rest of the way we talked about anything and everything, except bits and pieces about her childhood life.

“You didn’t!” she exclaimed, her blue eyes twinkling with amazement.

I laughed. I was telling her about the time I decided to paint my teacher the colors of the rainbow because she was too dull and needed excitement when I was in fourth grade.

“Yes, I did. What I did was go into the art room and gathered all the paint I could of different colors and a large bucket, and then I took the paint and hid it in my locker. During lunchtime, I took the paint out and dumped it all in the bucket. Don’t ask how I was able to do this without a teacher seeing, because I have no idea. Mrs. Dawson was a bitch and no one liked her, even the teachers so I think that played some part in it. Therefore, after I dumped it in the bucket, I put it on the shelf just above her chair and tied a rope to the handle. I knew she would pick it up, and since the bucket was only partly on the shelf, it spilled all over her.”