The American Boy Project

Chapter one: Arivall

As crazy as it sounds, I never thought my life would be here. Probably because I am a poor kid who moved from place to place, city to city with no money and high spirit with my mom. The kid who never thought he would get an education at all. Look at me now. I'm going to London. 
" Please put on seatbelts. We will be arriving shortly,"
The intercom lady said in a soothing voice. I liked her voice even though it seemed far pushed, but it calmed me. The plane lands, and honestly, I have butterflies in my stomach. I wouldn't say I like this feeling, but thankfully, it's for a good reason other than my mom having to make me pack everything up and move again and again and again. Yeah.... Rough life I have but then again, I would never give it up for even all the gold in the world. Ok, maybe diamonds but not gold.

I turn off airplane mode on my phone, and it buzzes with only one notification. It's a text message from my mom.

"Hi, I love you and miss you already. I'm so happy for you b and I want you to have the best life experience. Don't take anything for granted. Love u."

No, my name isn't b, Kingston carter. That's my name. Just call me Kc though. I like Kc, thats so much better than Kingston. It was my grandfather's name, and like any American kid. Their name has always been passed down to the next generation but skips one unless you are a traditional man with no creativity. B stands for brian, my middle name. No one calls me it other than my mother. And no one will other than my mother.

I walk off the plane and go through costums. I always hated doing this. Honestly, it feels violating even though it's supposed to do that for people. Ya know, not to take over a plane and cause disaster. Still weird to me. After I walk through costums and now scrambling to put on my backpack, I see a girl and an older woman at the end of the pathway. The girl is wearing a long sleeve crop top with a picture of prince's logo, purple jeans, and black airforces with purple lacings. The older woman is wearing light blue skinny jeans and white converse, an oversized yellow hoodie with a denim jacket that matches the pants. As ironic as it sounds to some of you guys, this is England and yes, they are white people. The United States isn't where we are, so I know that's strange to bring up. But this is England, and everyone looks like they came out of either queens, Brooklyn, Harlem, manhattan, or long island. Everyone has style. No matter what race.

I went over to them, and the girl rushed to hug me.
"oh my god, I missed you so much since we last talked."
This is Estell. She is the daughter of the international exchange parents I'm staying with. I don't know if that's how you say it, but we met online ironically before this all happened, so you can call it my exchange sister I guess.
" same. I mean it's only been 12 days, but that's still a long time."
I say in a happy yet sarcastic way. We stop hugging, and the woman chuckles and says,
"ok, you two, let's go on, now."
That's Jenny, my exchange mom. As I said, I don't know if that's correct but we've known each other for about three years so I can say whatever I want.

We walk out of the airport, and it's raining. Not as much as one would see in the state of Washington. But a light sprinkle if you say so. Thankfully my outfit looks good in this weather. I'm wearing a dark green crewneck with a gold chain that's not actually gold. I don't know why that's a big deal. If it's fake, it's fake. It's a nice chain and the color looks good so it is as real as I care. I also have my gold studs in my ears and dark green beanie, blue ripped jeans that are only ripped at the knees, and my timberlands. Think of a very classy logger. That sums it up.

We hop in the car and swing out of the parking lot like we're in a nascar race and about to take first place. I already forget that England drivers drive on the wrong side of the road, yes I said what I said its the wrong side. Anyway, I almost say something. Thankfully my memory kicks in and I stop myself from saying anything. I just don't want to seem like the dumb American who doesn't know anything even though I know more about American and British history than anything else in my life. History is a fun subject for me because if we don't understand why everything is everything then we shouldn't have a say in it. What I mean is if we don't know our history, why do we hate or love one person and the opposite for the other? I don't know I just feel like it's a great subject for everyone. It will always solve the answer for why everyone is mad at each other in a hated world. Ya feel me?

While we're driving home Jenny says in a happy voice.
"You're gonna love it."
"let's hope so because if I don't it's gonna be rough"
Silence falls in the car like I sucked all the air into my mouth with that last sentence.
"Ok, obviously I'm kidding," I say with a weird Brooklyn accent. My accent changes when I'm in situations. I've lived in almost every major city in the united states for at least 9 months. Just like a pregnancy my voice births a new accent. Every accent in the united states I can do. From southern to Brooklyn. White girl in Los Angeles to the cold loving men in the twin cities of Minnesota. I can do it all.

"Trust me your gonna like it and don't worry I did your room in a way your gonna like it."
Like I said three years of friendship. We know each other and I know she put a lot of work into that room even though she could have just put black sheets and a blanket with a picture of wu-tang clan on the wall and I would have been satisfied.
"Oh really Estell?"
"Yeah she spent a month on it so it better work out."
Everyone in the car laughs.
"Trust me it'll be great there's nothing to worry about from me."
I say with a smile.
"Of course it will I did the decorating"
Estell says as we pull up the gates.

I will always be excited about anything she gives out-we both love 90s everything, dance, culture, And football. To specify I mean American football cause this is England. That's also me in a nutshell. Just a loving guy of all things. But right now though I'm jet-lagged and exhausted. All I'm ready to do is get in the house and bump some Lauryn hill on the vinyl I brought with me. This is the next chapter in my life, and it should start with good music just as any good life story should.