bonjour • joshler •

un

"josh? you know that french boy is coming tomorrow, right?"

the curly headed teen looked up towards his mom who stood in the doorway of his secluded room,

"yeah mom i know"

he looked back downwards at a math filled textbook, jumbled with equations and random lettering. oh how he hated school.

"you might want to clean up your room a little, don't want to make a bad first impression"

"yep, got it mom"

"are you hiding something, josh?" his mom questioned from the noticeable shyness and little eye contact her son had been responding with.

the boys head shot upwards towards the sudden statement, his eyes suddenly wide with remorse,

"what! no! no mom i'm just - i'm just busy doing - something that i can't remember"

what was he doing? why did he have a pencil in his hand? what's going on? how did he get here?

"you were doing homework, joshua"

his mother calmly reminded him.

homework, right. and i'm in my room. and this is my mom. and i have a pencil because i was doing homework okay. fine. good.

"right, sorry"

josh rubbed his eyes and sat back down towards his desk, almost groaning at the many problems he had to finish before sundown. he barely noticed that his mom had left and shut the door carefully. the boy sighed and tiredly dropped his forehead on the seam of the textbook, deciding that he needed a break from doing problems for ten minutes.

he began to daydream about the foreign exchange student that was going to stay with them.

what if he was scary? what if he's really rude and mean to me? will he make fun that i forget? what if he's a loser? that's mean. don't say that.

he daydreamed more, his forehead still stuck to the dull textbook that sat on his desk. he wondered that maybe this mysterious boy will be his next best friend. things can't be so different in france as opposed to ohio, right? i mean, it's only 4,084 miles away, so it can't be that different.

and he speaks english, right? he would have to considering eighty percent of americans speak english. unless he went with the opposing twenty percent and spoke spanish. oh dear lord what if he spoke spanish? what if he spoke some language that was totally out of josh's spectrum like arabic or korean? well, josh did know some korean, however he was far from fluent.

it wasn't long before josh picked his head off of the boring textbook and saw that his window was pitch black, signaling he really had his work cut out for him if he wants to get some decent rest before the next day, if it wasn't midnight already.

picking up his pencil, josh's mind still wondered about the mystery boy. however, it was less active this time. he sighed once more, noticing the clock in front of him read eleven thirty. tapping his utensil and staring at the equation in front of him, he began to write on the somewhat crumpled loose leaf paper that sat before him.

tomorrow.

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kachow

charlie