Chapter 3: I'm adopted
Adopted.
Adopted.
Adopted.
Third time is the charm when you are talking to a wailing Bolin. "Bolin, I'mma try to come back and see you. We gotta figure out how to make magma remember?" she patted his shoulder as he dragged a soggy arm over his eyes.
"We can't make…make…magma-AGH!" He broke down into another crying fit. Runny nose, runny eyes, runny mouth; it was all too much for her.
"Bolin," she held him tightly. "Don't cry anymore. I'mma start crying too." True enough, her eyes started to hurt.
She was leaving tomorrow. She should have told him the day of in order to avoid this. Somehow in her mind that didn't feel quite right. Bolin deserved to know ahead of time because he was her rock, now. They were Buddies 'till the end, Bolin had said during one of their adventures.
"Flint?" The sniffling had subsided into dry heaves.
"Yeah?"
"You suck as a bender," before she could sock him in the arm, he added, "but you get better so we can make magma."
She finally cried. It was confirmation they would still be friends.
The next day was filled with a grim happiness. Adoption was the fair dream of most of the children in the orphanage. Bolin still walked around with his head low though he was happy Flint was getting a family.
Flint packed her little purse with all her belongings. Among them was a pair of socks, a dress, some ribbons for her hair and a tiny stone in the shape of an egg. Bolin made the stone when he was practicing—rather-showing off his bending. His bending became a hazard to her face, so she usually hit behind something. One day, Bolin convinced her to watch his display
She said her goodbyes to the other kids and the Head Mistress. Bolin gave her a long hug. Before she detached herself from her weeping friend, Mako nodded to her.
The family that adopted her were nonbenders with water nation origins. Linna, her adoptive mother, and Rata, her adoptive father, were just as warm and welcoming as when they visited the orphanage. They had talked to her for a long time about her time at the orphanage, her interest, and her fire bending. Of course she had embellished the stories of her skills, but Linna and Rata had already fallen in love with her boisterous personality. They went through the paperwork without a second thought. Now, Flint was theirs.
"Flabiana, you want anymore stewed sea prunes?" Linna's cooking smelled wonderful.
She winced at her name. It had been years since she has heard the dreaded syllables. If she knew her mother and father, she would scold them for giving her such an ugly name. No one can say that name without sounding silly. Try it.
"Thank you, Linna. Could you call me Flint instead of….Flabiana?"
Linna dumped some more prunes on her plate. "If you call me Mom."