Chapter 3-Understanding
I snapped back to reality and looked over toward England. "Artie?" My voice quavered a little in embarrassment. "Where's Alfie?"
Artie glanced back at me. He smiled. I assumed he was glad to hear me call him Artie. "Oh he's ...um ...right outside, Anna. I'll get him." He stood up and left the room. When he returned, he led America in cautiously.
"Alfie!" I erupted in excitement. Suddenly, I jumped up and gave him an extremely large hug. "I'm sorry for making you and Artie worry."
He smiled and was a tad taken back by my forwardness. "We're just glad you're okay, Andy." Alfie then pushed my chin so he could look me in the eyes. "You got one awful cut and a wicked black eye." He carefully rubbed my eye. I winced in pain slightly but managed to smile.
"Don't hurt my darling Anna." Artie must have quickly realized that his little comment sounded like we were together. "I meant... I…um…well...um…" He was blushing now intensely. "We are not a couple, if any one thought so." He pulled me back toward him in a tender embrace.
"I'm pretty sure Andy doesn't like you the way you like her." Alfie looked straight at me. "Isn't that right, Andy?" He had a slightly cynical smile on his face.
Before I could say anything, Artie jumped in. "I don't like her, you bloody Git."
"Yes you do."
Suddenly, they started arguing once more and pushed each other around. I quickly had to diffuse the confrontation, considering I was still in between them both. I sighed and pretended to cry, a nice little trick I learned from Romano.
It worked nicely considering Daddy France instantly started to scold them. "How dare you make my little Andorra cry! You two should be ashamed!" He pulled me away from them and rubbed my head. "Don't worry my sweet. Everything will be okay." He looked at Artie and Alfie meanly. "Get out now."
Both looked at Daddy France, and I could tell they were truly sorry. They left my room in a rush whispering to themselves. Secretly I felt bad, but I didn't want them fighting.
"I'm sorry for their behavior." Daddy France paused awkwardly looking at me. "I'm also sorry I didn't tell you neither Spain nor I was your father. We didn't want to hurt you."
I was shocked. "You're not my father!" I started to push him away from me. "Who is?!"
He looked at me confused. "You don't remember?"