Aquarius: I'm South African, not British...

Well this is a bloody fine mess I've gotten myself into.

I tap my foot impatiently as a small and stocky old man reviews a few documents I've handed him. If I was going to find more "others" like me, I would need to blend in to the local teen populace. But seeing as he already had a foreign accent, that shouldn't be too hard. My only hope was that he wouldn't see through some of the signatures I've forged.

"Alright young man. Your name is Aaron Stone eighteen years of age correct?" I nodded. "And you've transferred here from a boarding school in South Africa on an exchange program?" The man's eyebrow rose but I gave him a convincing smile.

"Correct old bean," I said. I hoped that adding some British stereotypes would convince him. "I think you've a jolly good school and I hope you'll give me the honour of enrolling in a few months academic studies." The man sat down on his chair, as if to think about his decision. "If I may add that a successful exchange program leads to not just a school's recognition at home and abroad, but also to the school's headmaster? Or is it principal for you folks?"

The man smiled a bit and signed a document before placing it in a filing cabinet. "You've got quite the silver tongue there young man." He placed the rest of my documents inside another file and handed me a piece of paper. "This timetable should show you to your next class Mister Stone."

I made a courteous bow before leaving the office. A silver tongue? Is that what they called someone charismatic around here? I gazed down at my timetable and viewed the classes that I would or wouldn't be attending, depending on my mood.

"History eh?" I said to myself.


"Is this World histories room?" I asked through the opening of the door. There were a few things I noticed as I made my way into the class. The first thing was the people staring at me. I couldn’t blame them though. The jeans and white t-shirt along with a black leather jacket made me seem either foreign or old. The way I spoke definitely made me feel foreign. The way most of the girls stared at me was something I was also accustomed to.

" name's Aaron. Aaron Stone." I said, breaking the awkward silence. "I'm a transfer from New England." The teacher nodded and pointed to an empty seat beside a strangely stereotypical looking American blonde. Behind her was a muscular looking boy and a slender looking girl, both pale yet athletic in appearance.

I made my way to my seat, politely smiling to the blonde girl who definitely fit the stereotype of an "American girl." She was what some might call "all over me," constantly playing with her hair, batting her eyelashes and complimenting me.

"So cutie, what's it like in Britain?"

I smiled politely. "I'm not from Britain, actually I'm from South Africa."

The End

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