My classes aren't that hard. I got a lot of stares in my classes, but I have had worse. The lady at the front desk gave me this fancy board and marker that I can talk with. It even has a string to put around my neck.
I was shown to my room. It is bigger than anywhere I have ever lived before. A kitchen-like place, with a mini-fridge and a micrwave, a bathroom with shower and a electronic bathtub, and a giant wardrobe.
after a warning about my first class starting in an hour and a nodded yes, I walk around and marvel at my good fourtune. I guess there is some balance in the world. I open the wardrobe just out of cureosity and take a shocked half step back.
It is full of clothes tht look to be my size exactly. Jeans and skirts and t-shirts and silk drsses. Everything I have seen on the streets of New York City. I grab some short-shorts and an inconspicus shirt. I am used to wearing the nondescipt clothing. I grab them and pile them next to the bathtub.
I am in my clothes, with my guitar and my board, waiting outside the class a minute before the bell is to ring. Deep breath. calm down. nothing will go wrong.
I step through the door. everyone looks up. I guess I looked different than the other students. I sit at the front so the teacher will be able to read my board.
"Hi" I write. I show the teacher then the rest of the class. A few more students walk in from lunch and take their seats.
"Hi. What is the white board for?"