"And that's the gymnasium," Lily finished, pointing down the hallway to a typical school gym; stinky, sweaty, and squeaky. Overall, their school wasn't too different from my old school in England. There was just a lot more people - none who spoke the same language as me. Except her, of course.
"How come you, um, speak English?" I finally asked, a huge burden lifted from my shoulders. I'd been wondering all day, but was scared to ask because I thought it would either be really weird or really stupid.
"I lived in Australia when I was little," she explained with a small smile that showed a row of small pearly teeth. I nodded, realisations clicking into place. She did have a slight Australian accent, more obvious now that she'd named it. "But you can't just stick to me like a baby, Keaton. You've got to learn mandarin as well. Isn't your family living here now?"
I tried to crack a smile. "Yeah, but it doesn't make a difference. I still stick out anyways."
"That's because you're handsome," she grinned. I blushed.
YOU ARE READING
combustion
Historia CortaWhen paper burns, it doesn't just turn to ashes. This is the story of Lily and Keaton. Of the boy who was hopelessly lost, and of the girl who was his oasis in a sea of strangers. Most of all, of how he found himself turning paper to ashes.
