Gregory sat alone at the end of a cafeteria table, his broken glasses in his pocket, having decided he'd lost his appetite. There was something about that Kenneth boy that made him feel warm. There was no describing it, this feeling. Simply... warm.

He wondered if they shared any classes. He hoped so, otherwise there was no way he could survive. All the taunting would surely drive him off a cliff.

Soon enough, the bell rang, and it was time for English. He could only hope he would do well in this classroom. He loved to read, so perhaps this would be the case.

"Hello, class." The teacher introduced once everyone was seated. "My name is Miss Huddleston. Now, who would like to take a guess as to what sort of literature we will be learning this year?"

After a slight pause, someone guessed, "Shakespeare?"

"No. This is American literature, keep that in mind."

Gregory wanted to guess Emily Dickinson, but he wouldn't dare raise his hand. Not so he could be ridiculed by his fellow students, as usual.

When no one else guessed, she continued. "Well, we will be studying poets such as Emily Dickinson-"

"Yes!" Gregory cheered quietly. Though it appeared it wasn't quiet enough, as everyone then stared at him, causing him to blush furiously. "Sorry, I just... really like her work. She's very good. Well, for a..." He didn't want to finish that statement.

"For a what?" The teacher asked. "A woman?"

"No. For an American. I actually find that female poets write a bit more... tastefully than men. Not that they're bad, necessarily, but I prefer poets like Dickinson who write more artfully, rather than poets like Edgar Allen Poe who write with a sort of darkness." This was not the first time he's told why he likes certain writing more than others. He's explained it to his mother many times.

Miss Huddleston seemed interested in his view on poetry. "I see. What was your name, dear?"

"Uh, Gregory, ma'am. Taggert."

"Taggert? You're the new student? That would explain the accent."

Gregory could have sworn he heard someone murmur "Brit twit" from behind him, but it honestly wouldn't surprise him anymore. Even if Kenneth were around, there would always be someone calling him a Brit twit.

After that class was a subject Gregory knew next to nothing about; government.

Sure, he knew all about the European government, plain and simple. But now that he was living in the United States, he would be forced to learn about American government. And all he knew about the American government was that the current president was African American.

He walked into class, seeing a seating chart drawn on the whiteboard. He saw where his name was and found his seat accordingly. There were groups of different desks, side by side by side, each consisting of three.

He looked back up at the seating chart, hoping to see who else would be sitting with him. There was a girl named Eve A. at his left, and the name Kenneth K. at his right. Was that, perhaps, the Kenneth from the cafeteria?

He saw a blonde girl walk in, look for her name on the seating chart, and sit down next to him. This must have been Eve. "You must be-" she glanced up at the chart. "Gregory T. That wouldn't be Taggert by any chance?"

He sighed lightly. "It is. Why? Am I nothing but a Brit twit?"

She simply scoffed. "Is that what they're saying nowadays? You'd think America would've gotten better over the centuries."

This caught him by surprise. "So... you aren't going to make fun of me for being British?"

"Of course not. My boyfriend lives in Brighton. Riley and I are making it work long distance. It's difficult, but it works."

He nodded, understanding her reasons. "How did you meet if he lives in Brighton?"

"He used to live here. He moved from England to here when he was five, then he and his parents moved back last year. It's been tough, but we manage."

Gregory glanced at the door and saw Kenneth, looking at the seating chart. They quickly made eye contact and smiled at each other. Kenneth went and sat next to him. "Hey, Gregory, right?"

Gregory blushed a little for some reason. Just something about hearing this boy say his name. "Yes. And you're Kenneth, correct?"

"Yep. So, no one's giving you a hard time, right?"

"I just hear someone calling me a Brit twit ever so quietly. But other than that, it's fine."

"You gonna introduce me to your friend here?" Eve spoke up.

"Right, of course. Eve, this is Kenneth, Kenneth, this is Eve. We met thirty seconds ago."

"Hi." Kenneth greeted, giving a small wave.

"Hey." Eve replied.

Kenneth looked back at Gregory. "What did you do with your glasses? I know Connor broke them, but where'd you put them?"

Gregory got them from his pocket. "Right here. Why?"

"I think you can fix them with tape."

He cocked his head slightly. "Really? I've never heard of fixing glasses with scotch tape."

"Well, it's only temporary. You'll have to get them actually, properly fixed eventually."

"I don't have any scotch tape."

Kenneth glanced up at the teacher's desk. "I think the teacher has some. I'll go get some." He went up to the teacher's desk and asked for some tape, which he allowed. He got an inch long strip of tape and went back to his seat.

"Thank you. I honestly never would have been able to do that myself." Gregory grinned, taking the tape and attempting to fix his glasses.

"No problem. You need some help with that?"

"No, everything is under control," He replied as he aligned the two halves of his glasses together so he could tape them. "I just need to tape the piece between the lenses."

He carefully applied the end of the strip to the top of the piece, slowly wrapping it around until his glasses were "fixed". He put them on and smiled. "Look at that. I can see."

Kenneth chuckled. "So, nearsighted or farsighted?"

"Trust me, I'm Velma."

He laughed at that. "So they have Scooby Doo in England?"

"Of course we do, don't be daft."

"Well, jinkies, English." Eve smirked. "You always this sarcastic?"

"Mostly with my parents."

She laughed. "Same, dude."

"I'd just like to say right now that I know nothing of the American government," Gregory pointed out. "All I know is that the current president is black."

Kenneth chuckled. "You mean Obama?"

Gregory squinted his eyes, what he always does in confusion. "What's an Obama?"

Before Kenneth could reply, the teacher began class. "Good afternoon, class. My name is Mr. Engleman. And I will be teaching you everything you need to know about the government, and the way it works. Sounds like fun, doesn't it?"

"Oh yeah, a bundle of cheers." Kenneth murmured sarcastically.

The three spent the entirety of class talking quietly amongst themselves, rather than listening to Mr. Engleman go on and on about the syllabus.

"We should definitely text," Kenneth whispered to Gregory. "Can I give you my number, or you could give me yours?"

Gregory blushed slightly. "I don't have a cell phone. My parents don't think I need one, since I never had anyone to contact in England. Sorry."

"No, it's okay. Maybe I can just come and visit some time. You guys are rich, so you must have some pretty nice digs."

Gregory nodded, smiling small. "Sure." He wrote his address in black ballpoint pen on a piece of paper and gave it to Kenneth. It wasn't long after that when class ended.

His final class of the day was Cooking For Healthy Living. He decided to take this class because he was interested in the culinary arts.

"Good afternoon, class," The teacher began, though Gregory was used to this repeated mantra by now. "I am Miss Bradfield. In this class, we will be learning about cooking for healthy living." Gregory couldn't help but mentally roll his eyes. Really?

He went through this class for a little while until the bell rang, and it was time to head home. He went to his locker, leaving his books and binders and things there, and taking his backpack home with the syllabi that needed signed.

He went to find his bus, which was number... 59? Or 95 was it? He honestly couldn't remember. That morning was a bit... hectic, for lack of better word.

He walked through the long line of busses, hoping that if he were to see his bus, he would remember. He passed 17, 98, 82, because they didn't go in numerical order for some reason, which was completely unsatisfying to him. He eventually found bus 81, and thought it seemed familiar. Perhaps this was it, he would just have to find out.

He got on, recognizing the driver. So he could confirm that this was indeed his bus. As he walked down the aisle, memories of that morning came back to him. He really didn't want to repeat that incident. He could be certain that he was on the correct bus when he saw the same girl that denied him a seat that very morning. He despised her almost as much as that Connor fellow.

He glanced at the second to last seat and spotted a familiar face. It was Kenneth.

They made eye contact and smiled at one another. Gregory certainly wasn't expecting to see him on the bus. Thankfully, there was a spot next to him, so he sat down. "Kenneth, I didn't know you rode my bus!"

"Yeah, same here. Funny coincidence, huh?"

"Indeed. Where were you this morning?"

"I don't usually take the bus in the mornings. My mom has to get up really early for work, so she drops me off at school on her way to the hospital."

Gregory nodded in understanding. "The hospital? Is she a doctor?"

"Nurse. She's pretty good at it, too."

"Ah. So, change of subject, perhaps you would... like to come to my house? I'm sure my parents wouldn't mind, and I have nothing to do at the house anyway. I only thought, since we share the same bus route, and you're my only friend in all of America- well, besides Eve, of course. I'm sorry, am I rambling?" He blushed slightly.

Kenneth smiled. "It's fine. And I'd love to, I just have to text my mom about it. I'm sure she won't mind, though." He got his phone out of his pocket and began texting her.

"Oh. Good. I didn't really have any friends in England, either. Just the chauffeur, Horacio. I really didn't want to leave him, but I did. And I guess if I hadn't, I never would have met you." He grinned slightly.

Kenneth returned the smile. "Yeah. And I can't imagine what it'd be like here without you."

"Just imagine twenty four hours ago." Gregory chuckled.

Kenneth laughed as well, receiving a text from his mother. "Well, she wants to know when she should pick me up. Around 5?"

Gregory nodded. "That sounds good, yes."

He sent the text and they waited for a reply. "So what are your parents like?" Kenneth asked.

He wasn't sure what would be the best way to describe his parents. They didn't seem like they cared, though he knew they were trying. At times, they were a bit pushy, though that was probably his own fault. They could be very overbearing, and, to be frank, rather rude. "They're, erm... interesting. Yes, that's probably the word."

Kenneth received another text from his mother. "She says it's okay. Sweet." Kenneth smiled.

Gregory returned the grin. He noticed Kenneth's smile was slightly crooked, the left corner raised slightly more than the right, causing the dimple to be more pronounced. He also noticed the nearly transparent flurry of freckles on the bridge of his nose. Was this a normal way of seeing someone? Perhaps, he wasn't entirely certain.

Kenneth caught his stare, causing him to look away with reddening cheeks. Why was he acting this way? He's never blushed so much in England. Perhaps he was catching on to American habits. Do Americans blush this frequently?

After some time talking, they arrived at Gregory's stop and got off the bus. Kenneth looked at his house. "So, this is where you live? Not bad."

"It's not quite as good as our England home." He replied as they walked up to the door.

They reached the door, Gregory opening it. "Mother!" He called. "Father! I'm home! And I've brought company, I hope you don't mind!"

Kenneth took a look around, noticing the grand piano in the room to the right. "You play piano?"

Gregory caught his gaze and nodded. "Yes. I've played since I was ten."

He was impressed to hear this. "Really?"

A smile spread across Gregory's face. "Would you like to hear me play something?"

Kenneth glanced back at him and grinned. "Sure. Know any good tunes?"

"It's mainly classical. I can recite all of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata."

Kenneth nodded along, pretending to know what that was. "Oh. I see."

Gregory saw right through him. "I'm sure you don't, but it's nice of you to try." He sat at the piano and decided to play a simple one that wouldn't take too long. He went with Fur Elise.

He could tell Kenneth was impressed, even without looking. Not that it was his intention to do so, he could simply tell. Not to mention, he's been told time and time again how talented he was. Mostly by his parents, other times by more distant relatives. Though, all those other times that he played piano, it was because his mother and father told him to. This time, it was simply because he had a friend who was genuinely interested in his life. Now he felt like his talent meant something. And that was all he could ever ask for.

He finished up the piece and looked to Kenneth, who was slightly jaw dropped. "That was beautiful!" He smiled. "I mean... wow! I have plenty of friends that play piano and guitar and stuff, but that was... something else."

Gregory blushed yet again, finding himself humble in the midst of all this admiration. "Thank you. Do you play any instruments?"

"Not really. My voice is my instrument." He replied with a small grin, clearly well aware of his vocal talents.

Gregory nodded along. "Really?" He was about to continue, until he heard his mother's voice.

"Gregory?" She called from upstairs. "Are you home?" She came from her room and approached the stairs. She was wearing a purple fuzzy robe with matching slippers, and had green facial cream applied to her face. "Oh, and you've brought a friend!" She smiled.

Gregory became confused. "Mother, what were you doing up there?"

She began to descend the stairs. "I was relaxing, since I finally had the time. You were at school, you're father's out looking for employment, so I was here alone." She approached Kenneth. "Hello, friend of Gregory's that is actually his age!" She greeted as she shook his hand.

Kenneth returned the smile. "Hello, Gregory's mom."

"Oh, dearie, call me Adena!" She spoke with a bit more enthusiasm than usual.

"Mother, are you alright?" Gregory asked suspiciously.

"I'm quite alright, darling. I've just been relaxing with a spot of wine. Perhaps it was just a bit too much. Not to worry. I'll just go back upstairs and let you kids get on." She smiled and went back up the stairs, and they could clearly hear her as she said, "He made a friend. His own age!" And she closed the bedroom door.

Gregory was quite embarrassed. "Well, that was my mother." He murmured as he blushed slightly.

Kenneth grinned. "Trust me, she could be a lot worse."

He decided to change the subject entirely. "So, you say your voice is your instrument?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"Do you know of a band known as Coldplay?"

A grin played at Kenneth's lips. "Yeah, they're one of my favorites. Why do you ask?"

Gregory smiled as well. "Do you remember Atlas?"

He clearly did, as he responded with a crooked smile. "I love that one! I know all the words-" He then understood where Gregory was going with this. "Let me guess, you can play that song on piano?"

"That's right. How about a little duet? I've never done that before."

Kenneth was happy to oblige. "Sure! Absolutely!"

"This is about the only modern song I know, so I'm happy you know the lyrics." He began playing the piano, Kenneth clearing his throat to prepare his voice.

"Some saw the sun.

Some saw the smoke.

Some heard the gun.

Some bent the bow.

Sometimes the wire must tense for the note.

Caught in the fire, say oh.

We're about to explode.

Carry your world, I'll carry your world.

Carry your world, I'll carry your world."

Gregory was impressed with Kenneth's singing ability. He was actually very good, so good that he could easily join Coldplay and make a small profit.

"Some far away.

Some search for gold.

Some dragon to slay.

Heaven we hope is just up the road.

Show me the way, lord, 'cause I... I'm about to explode.

Carry your world, I'll carry your world.

Carry your world, I'll carry your world.

Carry your world, and all your hurt."

Gregory finished the piano bit and looked up at Kenneth. "We should form a musical group."

Kenneth chuckled at that. "Yeah, maybe. Cover band or songwriters?"

"Perhaps a little bit of both. But we would certainly be noticed. With my piano skills and your perfectly tuned voice, we could go places."

"You're serious about this?"

Gregory shrugged. "Just a thought. We certainly could if we wanted to."

They took a moment to look into one another's eyes. It was a brief, fleeting moment, but the moment was there, until it quickly wasn't. Though Gregory found himself entranced by Kenneth's radiant amber eyes, though he couldn't think of why.

"Would you like to see my room?" He asked to break the silence.

"Sure," Kenneth smiled. "Lead the way."