The Earth's Turn (revision)

Chapter 5: You've Got A Friend in Me (and me too!)

Fair warning, this is slightly shorter than my usual chapters! I have some ideas planned for the future, but circumstances called (University) are keeping me from writing. So I apologize for the lack of updates and bring you chapter 5!

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I awoke to the sound of a tenor voice over the loud cascading of water that betrayed someone taking a shower. My eyes groggily fluttered open and a soft groan released itself from my lips as I suddenly realized that Alfred was singing "You're A Grand Old Flag" at the absolute top of his lungs.

"-You're a high flying flag, and forever in peace may you waaaaaave! You're the emblem of-" And with that, I promptly smothered myself in a pillow. Though he was a decent tenor, I really wasn't in the mood to hear patriotic songs this early in the morning. It felt like an hour, but in reality it was only another five minutes of torture I had to suffer through before Alfred got out of the shower and shut his mouth. Apparently he only sang when the acoustics were phenomenal, and the main room lacked good acoustics...unlike the shower, thank the gods.

"Morning!" Alfred shouted brightly as he strode into the room and tossed a towel at me. "So dude, I noticed you didn't have any towels and stuff, so you can totally borrow one of-"

"You went through my stuff?" I mumbled through my pillow in disbelief.

"Huh?" Obviously he didn't understand me, so I repeated what I said after I removed the pillow from my face. "Oh, yeah kinda. Sorta. Yeah I did...and you don't really have much; just some clothes that the school lent...you." His voice trailed off as the thought hit him.

Shit...don't ask a stupid question. Don't ask a stupid question. Better yet, don't fry your brain attempting to ask an intelligent question. I pleaded silently as I sat up and maintained eye contact with the American.

"Are you from one of those countries that likes to run around nude or something?" Alfred gave me a puzzled look. "No wait that doesn't make sense...you don't have an accent." He scratched his head in deep thought.

"Correction: I have an accent...but it's unidentifiable by every single country of the world. Especially North Americans. Common misconception." I dismissed with a wave of my hand and an eye roll.

"So then what country are you?" Alfred's question made me hesitate. What would be a good way to respond to his question? "I mean, you're not one of my states...or Mattie's territories. And I'm sure I'd know if I had any colonies anywhere. You don't have an accent, but-"

"Wrong." I interrupted him.

"Explain." He frowned and studied me intently.

"Everyone has an accent...the only people in the world that don't seem to see that are North Americans. An accent defines your speech pattern...or to be more literal, an accent is how a person of a specific region pronounces words. For example, American accents are influenced by the British, while Canadian accents are influenced by a mixture of British and Scottish; those are dialects. That's what makes them different regardless of them sounding somewhat similar. Does this make any sense?" The American narrowed his eyes as he took in the information I gave him and he slowly started to nod his head in understanding.

"I-I guess." He murmured softly and fiddled with his glasses for a moment. "So then...you have an accent, but it...sounds like...my accent?" I started a mocking slow clap and he shot me a look of irritation.

"You are correct, young Padawan."

"Take a fucking shower, Terran." Alfred growled and stalked over to his bed with a huff.