Spain x Reader - New

Spain x Reader – New

As you wandered down the street, headed for school, people zoomed past on skateboards and in cars. One person on a bike nearly ran you down. It was the first day of school yet again, and you already despised half the people who were going to be there. People were supposed to watch for pedestrians, weren’t they?

You stuck your earbuds in your ears, drowning out the shouting and din with your favorite songs. After a summer of spending equal amounts of time outside in your pool as inside, you looked like a different person. Your hair was sun bleached lighter, and your skin (tanned/red)*.  Unfortunately for everyone else at the school, you weren’t any different personality- or temperament-wise. A deep sigh escaped your lips as you walked closer. The school would be coming into sight as soon as you reached the top of the next hill.

A hand fell on your shoulder from behind. You pulled out your headphones and stopped, turning to see a guy about your age. He had a pretty deep tan and a mop of wavy brown hair. His eyes were green and bright, and he was wearing typical summer wear: swim trunks (in this case a pair that could pass for shorts) and a loose shirt. On his feet were pink-stained white sneakers. The hand not on your shoulder was on the strap of his backpack slung over his shoulder. You couldn’t remember having seen him before.

“Disculpe, señorita. ¿Dónde queda la escuela?**” he asked, removing his hand from your shoulder.

You stared blankly at him for a moment, dragging a hand across your forehead and moving some hair that had fallen in your eyes. He was speaking Spanish; that much you could tell. If you could just remember the lessons from your Spanish class last year…

The guy seemed to realize he wasn’t speaking English. He brought his hands up, half clenched. “¡Lo siento! I- I mean, I’m sorry! I’m not used to having to speak English everywhere yet…” He scratched the back of his neck, and then he allowed his hands to drop to his side. Considering he had been speaking in fluent Spanish, which was probably his first language, his English was amazingly clear. You remembered his accent from a video you had seen once; he was from Spain.

“No, no, it’s fine. I think I understood what you were asking… You were asking where the school was?” you said, waving a hand in front of you. He smiled.

“Oh, good! Someone who understands Spanish! Yes, I was. If it’s not too much of a problem for you, could you point me in the right direction?” he asked. You laughed, embarrassed.

“I don’t know that much.  I’ve only been in a couple basic Spanish classes. Anyway, I was headed there myself. You can walk with me if you like,” you offered, winding your headphones around your iPod and tucking it away.

The guy’s smile widened even more. His eyes became little glittering slits, his smile was so wide. “That would be great! Thank you so much!” he chirped. “I’m Antonio Fernandez Carriedo.  Nice to meet you!”

You took his hand and shook quickly. “Nice to meet you too. I’m (f/n), (f/n) (l/n),” you said as you stepped beside Antonio. In the process of moving next to him, you nearly got mowed over by some dude zipping past on his skateboard, bent at the waist to “reduce air resistance” or something. “Watch it, idiot! Anyways, let me see your schedule. I can see if I have any classes with you so I can let you know where to go.”

Antonio dug in his backpack, keeping one eye on you so as to not crash into anything, and eventually pulled out a slightly crumpled paper. You took it as you pulled your folded schedule from your pocket, holding the two papers next to each other to compare. Surprisingly, he had every single class with you, and his locker was even next to yours!

“How weird. Everything’s the same, and your locker is next to mine. Maybe they wanted me to be your buddy-slash-guide or something,” you said as you handed his schedule back and put yours away.

“Well, that’s nice! You don’t mind if I join you, do you?” he asked. You shook your head.

“Nope. I don’t have too many people to hang out with. I’ve got one of those, uh, dislikable personalities? I think that’s how you say it… I don’t know. It’ll be a nice change to have someone to talk to,” you explained with a shrug. Antonio looked at you, his head tilted to the side and his eyebrows knit together.

“Why wouldn’t people like you? You’re nice,” Antonio said.

“Well…” You shoved your hands in your pocket and looked at the clear sky as you continued. “I honestly don’t know. People just don’t like me.”

Antonio made a little pouty face and crossed his arms, looking ahead. The look faded back to a small smile quickly, though. You had only just met the guy, and you could already tell he was the type to be consistently happy. As the two of you reached the top of the hill, you pointed ahead.

“That’s the school up there.”

Antonio looked down the hill at the small grouping of buildings, watching the few people in the concourse between buildings scurry around like ants. “Wow, this is so different from school back home…” he said softly.

“You’re from Spain, aren’t you?” you asked him.

“Yes, I am! How did you know?” he asked, astonished.

“Um… Your accent…” you said, suddenly embarrassed.

“Really? How is it different?”

“Oh… Just slight differences compared to the accents of the others I’ve heard. Nothing much, really,” you vaguely explained.

“Hm…? Well, I think that’s really cool that you could tell!” Antonio replied. He smiled at you, crossing his arms over his chest.

You stared at him a moment, taken aback by his statement. Most people thought it was weird. Soon, you smiled and laughed softly. “You’re a really good guy, Antonio.”