#amechuweek

Yao hated this. It was his senior year of high school, and of course his father got an overseas job in America’s Pacific Northwest, so now he’s spending his senior year in a foreign land with weird customs and habits.

It helped a little that he moved into an area that was highly populated with other Asian people, especially other Chinese people, but a lot of them were second or third generation, so he didn’t feel like he fit in too much. At least they spoke Mandarin fluently and he could practice his English with them.

So, Yao went to school and tried to figure out how American school’s work. It was nothing like what school was like in China. For starters, it was a much shorter day, the students were much more distant than Chinese students, and on top of that the food (if you could call it that) that was fed to the students smelled funny and tasted about as good as it looked…it didn’t.

Still, food was food, and Yao was hungry. Sitting away from everyone in a corner, he munched on…something…he assumed it was supposed to be pizza, but it tasted soggy, not that he’s eaten a lot of pizza before, but the pizza he did have tasted a whole lot better than whatever this soggy bread was supposed to be.

Looking up at the lunch tables he noticed that a lot of people were laughing together and suddenly he felt very lonely. He missed his friends back home. He missed the food back home. He missed his home so badly he wanted to cry, but his pride would not let him cry in front of all these people.

Suddenly, there was a shadow that overcame him, and he looked up to see a honey-blonde boy standing over him. The most noticeable thing about him was that he had a tuft of hair sticking straight up from his forehead.

Yao opened his mouth to ask what the boy wanted but was greeted by the most god-awful mandarin he’d ever heard. It was clear that it was supposed to be Mandarin, but the grammar was terrible, and the boy’s American accent was very strong.

“Stop. Please. I speak English.” Yao replied to the boy in English, hoping that he’d stop butchering his native language.

“Oh, didn’t know that! I’m Alfred by the way.”

“You didn’t ask. I’m Yao.”

“Was my Chinese really that bad?” The blonde asked genuinely, sitting himself next to Yao.

“It was.” Yao replied bluntly “Where’d you learn it, Duolingo?”

“Sagwa mostly. My mom had it on VHS when I was a kid.”

“What’s Sagwa?” Yao asked completely confused.

“Oh, it’s an old tv show about a Chinese cat. Yeah, not many people here know it either.”

“You learned Chinese…from a cat?”

“Yeah! Anyhow, why’re you eating over in the corner here?”

“What’s wrong with eating in the corner.”

“Well for starters you’re all alone and you look miserable dude.”

“You came all the way over here to tell me this did you?” Yao replied annoyed.

“Nah, came over here to invite you to our table. Come on!” Alfred replied, grabbing Yao by his arm before dragging him over to a group of people.

“Hey y’all this is Yao.” The annoying blonde introduced him.

“So, you got picked up by this git too?” A blonde British boy asked from across the table. “He likes picking up us foreign exchange students.”

“Dude gross, that sounds like I’m trying to hook up with y’all.” The honey blonde says as he sticks his tongue out at the other blonde.

“Please don’t fight you two.” A short black-haired boy sighed beside the British boy before turning to Yao. “I’m Kiku. Where are you from?”

“Wuhan.” Yao replied, looking at Kiku’s bento box, which looked a lot more appetizing than what he currently had.

“I thought you were Chinese?” Alfred replied, rudely stealing a fry off of Yao’s tray.

“Wuhan is a city in China, you idiot.” A tall boy with a strong Russian accent replied from behind Alfred, holding a paper bag. “Also, you are in my seat.”

The tall boy put his bag on Alfred’s head, presumably to annoy him into moving somewhere else. Alfred just looked up at the platinum blonde and gave a cheesy smile.

“My seat now Ivan. Anywho, only one we’re missing now is Francis.”

“Right here.  Who’s this?” A boy with a heavy French accent asked as he draped himself on Yao’s shoulders, who stiffly froze at the sudden contact. Alfred frowned and peeled the long haired blonde off of Yao protectively.

“His name’s Yao. Be nice to him dude!”

“Question: Did he do the terrible google translate thing with you as well?” The tall Russian boy asked Yao as he sat down besides Francis across the table, pulling out his own lunch.

“I never want to hear him try to speak French again. It was the worst thing I’ve ever heard in my life, and I wanted to cry hearing him speaking … whatever it was that he was speaking” Francis complained dramatically.

“Dude, I’m literally right here. I can hear you.” Alfred complained throwing a fry at the French boy playfully.

“Good. Then stop doing that shit.” The British boy responded.

“I’m trying to be friendly Arthur!”

“You introduced yourself to me by asking if I watch Doctor Who.”

“You do watch Dr. Who.” Kiku said with a soft smile towards Arthur.

“Whose side are you on?” Arthur complained weakly.

Yao couldn’t help but watch as everyone conversed freely with each other, laughing, and enjoying each other’s company. He suddenly felt a heavy hand clap on his shoulder, and he turned to look at Alfred, who had a very serious look on his face.

“Listen man, anyone makes fun of you for any reason or hurts you in any way, you come to me, and I’ll take care of it.”

Yao gave the honey blonde a look of disbelief.

“Why would you do that for a random kid you just met?”

A bright wide smile broke out onto Alfred’s face, making everything seem alright with the world.

“Because I’m the hero, and that’s what hero’s do.”

“You literally stole fries off of my tray mister hero.” Yao laughed as Alfred tries to come up with an excuse.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad here. These people didn’t seem so bad, and everyone accepted him instantly. The only thing he’d change right now is the food. Maybe he could make some food to share with everyone tomorrow.