This Diary I Found

22 :: (E)X Marks the Spot

CHAPTER 22: (E)X Marks the Spot

As soon as the bell rang, little kids with big-ass backpacks came rushing out of the rusty gates.

I sat on the hood of dad's car. We had to bust out the old station wagon since mine was still at the repair shop. My pickup would look like a fucking Jag compared to this shit bucket. The poop brown paint was chipping off and about 90% of it was covered in rust. All four side windows were broken and the backseat had a hole on the floor!

But, hey! It got me from A to B. Sure, I had to swing Lally by and from school but it was better than walking.

My little sister's blonde mane stood out on high pigtails (which I oh-so-masterfully did this morning). In the sea of rushing soccer moms and homeward grade schoolers, Lally seemed to have been stuck in slow-mo. She was walking, taking her time. Only when I shifted my head to the side did I figure out why. She was talking to a boy!

My protective brotherly instincts kicked in and I hopped off the hood.

"Leilani!" I called, and her head whipped towards me.

She flashed me her gap-toothed smile and dragged her friend along with her. Lally skipped towards our car.

"Trevor, this is my new friend," she introduced, pointing at the curly-haired boy. She turned to him and said, "This is my big brother."

"'Ello," the little kid greeted. Unlike most kids, this one definitely wasn't shy. His back was straight and his chin was up. The only off thing about him was his accent.

"His name's Paolo," my little sister piped up. She gestured for me to lean closer with her pointer finger, eyeing the surroundings. When I did, she whispered, "He's a alien."

"An alien?" I queried.

Lally nodded vigorously. "He speaks alien language." She turned to Paolo and nudged him. "Go on, Paolo. Show him whatcha got. Talk alien."

Paolo only looked at her weirdly. "Non capisco. Non parlo molto bene inglese."

"See?!" Lally squealed.

I laughed. "I don't think he's an alien, Lally. Maybe a foreigner. Definitely not an alien."

"How do you know?" she huffed.

"He's not green. Aliens have to be green," I deadpanned. Kids are stupid. They'll believe everything.

"Ohhh."

While Lally was letting that sink in her brain, I turned to Paolo. "Hello," I greeted back, no longer feeling too overprotective. "My name is Trevor," I said, holding a hand out.

"Trevor," he repeated, shaking my hand.

"Yeah." I nodded. "Do you speak English?"

"Un poco. Little," he said, gesturing with his thumb and pointer finger.

"You're from another country, aren't you?"

Paolo processed this for a moment. "Si! Other country."

"Oh, so you're Spanish? Espanyol?" I asked.

"No, no, no," he quickly dismissed. "I am It--"

"Paolo!" Suddenly, a familiar stranger came up to us. He looked a lot like Paolo, but that wasn't the only reason why he looked familiar. I swear I've seen that curly patch of hair before. "La mamma is aspetta." Then, he turned to my sister and said, "Thank you for walking with my brother again, Lally."