"The Underground Fighter and His Kitten"
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Sasha "Kayo" Sokolov is a Russian fighter who was sent to America at a young age. One day, he met a young girl by the name of Everleigh Wilson, who taught him how to speak English, and helped him with his s...
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We were gathered at the dinner table. The fresh aroma of pasta lathered in Marinara sauce with a sprinkle of grilled shrimp was placed right in front of me by one of the Hastings' butlers. I waited for the butler to place the plate of food in front of Angelia, Mr. Hastings' wife before I began to eat.
"How was school today, Sasha?" she asked me just before repeating her very same question in a language I could understand—Russian. She did that with everything she said, and her reasoning for it was to help me better understand English for my future here in America.
I never wanted to be in America. I was happy in Russia, waiting for my mama to find me—to come back for me. Until then, I was to reside with my brothers in my orphanage, but those plans changed. I hadn't seen Nikolai, Mikhail, Dimitri, Adrien, or Ivan in months—and we were all each other had ever known.
"Я ненавижу это (I hate it)," I said.
I despised everything about America so far. The children were cruel. They were always calling my name and laughing and the teachers would only turn a blind eye. I've already learned about every subject the teacher brought up, so I found class rather boring.
"Really? There was nothing you can think of that you enjoyed... not even in the slightest bit?" she questioned.
Everleigh was the only thing about school I found interest in. The brown-skinned, brown-haired, brown-eyed girl that was quite captivating from her spiral curls to her full lips. She was kind to me unlike everyone else. She even invited me to eat lunch with her and even though we didn't say a single word, it was nice to not be alone.
"Everleigh," I answered honestly.
Her silverware hit the vintage glass bowl as a gasp fell from her mouth. I glanced up at the woman to see a smile on her pink tinted lips. They held a shine to them and glistened as she showed off her white teeth. Her small button nose scrunched up and the blue of her eyes grew brighter. Her skin was so pale it was white and her light brown hair kissed her shoulders in a way that reeked of elegance.
"A girl?" she wondered.
I settled with a nod. It was only then that the loud footsteps of Mr. Hastings began to become apparent as he neared the table.
"You use your mouth when my wife asks you a question, ya' hear me, boy?" Mr. Hastings demanded.
"Yes, sir," I said, using the first two words I've ever learned in English before turning to Mrs. Hastings. "I am sorry, ma'am."
"Please, you don't have to call me ma'am. You're apart of our family now," she said almost dreamily. I eyed her fingers as she grasped Mr. Hastings' hand. Her once excitable smile fell into one of pure content.
"Yes... um—" I froze, glancing over at Mr. Hastings. He seemed to not have been paying anymore attention to our conversation as he busied himself with his food that had just been placed in front of him.
