Yeah, yeah, just go back to your country with all your ale, fish-n-chips, Simon Cowell and whatnot. “Uh, Kamaria. Just Kamaria. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get to my class. Thanks.” Kamaria gathered up her belongings and started towards her first class: Biology. Maybe they can figure out what’s wrong with me, she thought.

“Alright, everyone, settle down,” the sweaty teacher said. “Boy, we need to get some air conditioning in here! Am I right?” he said, attempting to smile. No one laughed. He cleared his throat. “Okay, tough class…” He assigned the seats and handed out the syllabus.

The rest of the hour, the teacher went over the projects and assignments for that semester. BRINGGG , the class bell shrieked. Finally, Kamaria thought.

As she was picking her things up off the desk, a note fell into her hands. “Meet me at the corner table during lunch,” it said, followed by an elegant signature: Aedin Kurtello.