“no one ever listens to kids” tom shrugged, sitting on the side of the pavement pulling at the bandages on his fists. his skinny knees were bruised and cut like always.

tord looked up from his red, scratched hands, teary eyed and puffy faced. he’d only seen this boy on occasion, and wasn’t very accustomed to new people sitting with him to say hello. he’d probably seen what’d occured only a few seconds earlier- him being pushed over by some older kid. but, this boy was even younger, maybe a year or two, and tord was only 12.

“you don’t talk much.” tom tilted his head at tord, resting his head in the palm of his own hand. despite his age, he was around the same size as tord, and had uncomfortably empty black eyes. “my mom told me to be nice to kids at school.”

tord smiled, letting out a little laugh underneath the tears. he didn’t like big kids very much. they were mean. “not much.” he managed to say, his accent thick.

“do you want a bandage? for your hands?” tom asked, taking his backpack off of his shoulders and putting it between his legs. “the nurse gave me extra ones for my fists, but i don't need them.” he took them out, along with the clips. “im tomas by the way,” he offered his hand.

“uh, tord.” he said hesitantly after, shaking tomas’ hand. toms (already lose) grip didn’t lighten, so he figured he would keep holding.

“do you want me to hit those boys?” the other asked, taking the bandages and wrapping them around tord’s hands. it wasn’t the best, but it worked. “you can stop crying, they went inside.”

tord stared at his hand as the other boy bandaged it, not entirely sure why he was being so nice. but, he wasn’t complaining. “you don’t need to hit them.”

“i’ll hit them if you want me to,” he answered simply, finishing the bandaging. “we can leave the park if you want,” tom suggested, getting out a plastic container with what looked like his lunch. “i have a sandwich and drink if you get hungry.”

“we probably shouldn’t”

“the woods are just across the road? we can sit there and eat, nothing bad or illegal, my mom would be mad.” tom offered, standing up
from the hard, uncomfortable concrete ground. he took tord’s hand and gently tugged it. “like, five minutes? i eat fast.”

tord just payed attention to what was around them, the loud sounds of other children laughing in the park, ignorant and oblivious. and it was hot, scorching, anywhere else sounded better than here. “okay. five minutes.” he laughed and wiped under his eyes, standing and wiping some stones off of his trousers.

tomas walked him away, hand in hand, and no one batted an eyelid.

“can i have your juice?” tord asked.

“you can have whatever you want.” tom replied.