He started it.
That's what I will tell my older brother when he comes to pick me up from the principal's office, where I am currently held prisoner. I sit in an uncomfortable wooden chair with a crooked seat, listening to the nervous ticking of a clock hidden somewhere in the room. I can only imagine how Lukas will react once the principal explains why he received a phone call from school at 12:38 in the afternoon, or why I have a bloody nose that would put Old Faithful to shame. Perhaps he'll wonder why the kid sitting next to me is slumped in his chair, holding an ice pack over his black eye.
That kid? His name is Li Xiao, and he's Hetalia Academy's newest transfer student. To put it simply, Li Xiao is an incredibly plain-looking guy. He sticks out like a sore thumb with all the trendy keychains on his backpack, and I'm fairly certain he included in his welcome speech to the class something about coming from Hong Kong. To be fair, I wasn't really paying attention.
After a daunting hour and a half, Principal Vargas finally speaks. He makes us sign counseling statements and each write a first-hand account of what happened. It was my word against that jerk's, now. I already plan on spilling the truth; no point in complicating matters, extending my stay in this stuffy office. I may be from Iceland, but the temperature in this room is much more appropriate for a dry sauna than a school office.
"Make sure you tell the truth on these papers, boys," Principal Vargas says as he hands each of us a black pen. "We've already heard a second-hand account of what happened, so there's really no sense in lying."
My eyes are drawn to a figure standing by the door to the student council room. The class president, a blonde, lanky kid from England, meets my gaze. He coughs, quickly pretends to sift through the papers in his hands, and disappears into the student council room. He's known throughout the school for being a goody-two shoes. Look up "Tattletale", and a picture of Arthur's face is next to the very definition.
Me and my opponent both set down our pens around the same time, as though competing in a race against each other. He shoots me a dry glare over the top of his paper. Chilling. He sets his counseling statement on the principal's desk, and the Latin principal quickly skims over it, nodding and scratching his stubbly chin. He gives the boy's words some consideration before tossing it to the side. "Yes, this will do." I hand him mine and he does the same with mine.
The office door behind me quickly opens and my brother appears. I can feel his anger enter the room before he does. The room suddenly turns dark and heavy. Lukas pulls up a chair and sits painfully close to me. My nose alerts me that he put on too much cologne this morning.
"What did he do this time?" Lukas barks. No pleasantries, no handshakes; my brother has a way of getting straight to the point. He was from Norway, after all.
Principal Vargas twists a strand of curly brown hair in his fingers as he nonchalantly explains, "Another fight. This time, with the new kid... Er... What did you say your name was again?" He sits up in his chair rather embarrassed, looking for the kid's name on the paper he had just signed.
"Li Xiao," the new student replies in a calm voice. Must be trying to play it cool, I figure. He sits forward in his chair and rests his elbows on his knees, finally taking the ice pack off of his swollen left eye. So rude. He could at least pretend to care that he's in the principal's office on his first day of school!
The principal chuckles. "Ah, that's right. Li Xiao, from China-"
"Hong Kong."
"Yes, Hong Kong." He clears his throat and quickly regains his composure. "From both sides of the story, Emil and... the new kid... started off on the wrong foot this afternoon in the school cafeteria. Emil was chosen to be Li... Xia... Lu Xun... Lao..."
The Hong Kong exchange student looks mortified at the butchering of his name at the hands of the principal. He waves his arms while shaking his head and brashly suggests, "You can just call me Leon, if that's easier to remember."
"Leon... Much easier to remember. Anyway, Emil was chosen to be Leon's designated guide for the day. You see, we always pair a new student off with someone who's been around a while, just to show 'em around, and what being a student at Hetalia Academy is all about. Good morale builder. Helps strengthen the school community and..."
Lukas simply nods, his sharp eyes pleading with Principal Vargas to cut to the chase.
The Latin man picks up on the not-so-subtle hint and waves his hand in the air, dismissing the small details. "Long story short, it seems they got into a bit of an argument in the school cafeteria..." he shuffles through the papers on his desk, "...Concerning who would get the last blueberry tart from the dessert line."
The last words filled the room like a tidal wave. Even the class president peeks into the room, unsure if he had heard correctly.
My brother drops his head, and swings it around to face me. "So... You're telling me you fought over a piece of... cake?"
"A tart," Leon corrects him, dead serious.
Lukas gives him a sharp 'who-asked-you' look-over before returning his attention to me. He waves his hands indifferently and mutters, "Okay, so, you got into a fight over a tart."
"Yep." I shrug my shoulders.
"And that's why I had to leave work early. So I could be here- at your school- to pick you up."
"Yep."
Silence.
"...You know you're grounded, right?"
"Yep."
My brother sighs massages his forehead. He drops his hands at his sides and asks Principal Vargas for a pen- he's quite familiar with this procedure by now. Not that I've been counting, but this is probably the fifth time he's been called in on my account. The principal hands Lukas the same paper I had written on mere moments ago, and he takes it to his chair to read over before signing it. While we wait, Principal Vargas sits with his hands folded in front of his face. "We will discuss corrective action first thing tomorrow morning." He glances at the clock, and turns his attention to Leon. "You did call your guardians and tell them to pick you up, correct?" The older man raises a brow, concerned.
Leon nods, and his long, brown bangs land directly over his face. "Yeah. I called my cousin." He slowly pushes them behind is ear, but they quickly fall back into place. I wonder if he even notices. "But he didn't pick up, so I called my brother."
"Is he on his way, then?"
"No," the boy looks down at his hands and calmly replies, "I don't think so."
The principal doesn't push him for answers, but inhales rather stiffly and fiddles with a red pen, thinking to himself. Principal Vargas looks up multiple times to say something, but reconsiders each time. After consideration, he calls loudly over his shoulder, "Arthur!"
The blonde kid that has been eavesdropping on us this entire time enters the room. He adjusts his tie as he walks in and reports to the principal. Upon a glance, I notice his uniform is crisp and pressed. I imagine that he wakes up early every morning, far too early, just to iron it to perfection. It's no wonder this guy has been elected to uphold the Hetalia Academy values. "Yes, Principal Vargas?" he inquires upon being summoned. His British accent is quite thick when he speaks. Arthur stands to the side of the principal's desk, just a few feet away from me and my brother.
"Is there a student council meeting after school today?" the principal asks.
Arthur nods. "There is. From 4 to 6. We have to start planning for the Spring Fling next month. Why do you ask?" His green eyes quickly look both Leon and I over and return to the principal.
"Never mind." He shoos Arthur away with a hurried wave of his palm. The class president doesn't hesitate to return to the student council headquarters. Following his absence, there is a long silence looming over the room. Currently, the principal is calling various numbers on his phone, Lukas is hell-bent on winning a staring contest with me, Leon the Jerk seems to be zoning out (thinking about whatever it is jerks think about), and I... Well... I'm just here.
"Mr. Bondevik," Principal Vargas finally raises after much consideration.
My brother loses the staring contest as he looks away. "Yes?"
"I can't seem to get ahold Leon's guardians. I would offer to drive him home myself, but unfortunately, I must stay late and attend a district meeting in twenty minutes. Would you be so kind as to drive Leon home?"
My brother subtly clenches his fist, a gesture I recognize after years of being his brother as a telltale sign of annoyance. He looks at Leon, who is just sitting there like a jerk, and finally says, "Sure. Not a problem. Just tell me where I'm taking you. C'mon, Emil." He stands up and leads us out of the office.
As we leave, Leon deliberately steps on my shoelace, and I fall face-first into the door. My brother looks back at me and tries to stifle a laugh, but behind me, Leon doesn't try to hide his amusement as he grins. I don't bother holding the door open for Leon, and it hits him right in the shoulder. Serves him right for trying to take the last blueberry tart at lunch.
Jerk.