American UA Student ((On Pause))

Chapter 1: Goodbye, America!

[Kai's POV]

Ahhh, I'm psyched! Suji and I are gonna live in the same house!

I'm moving away from Colorado to Japan and I'm gonna attend a high school there.  I just turned 15, and I'm turning 16 next May 12th.  I'm so excited, I could wear pumps and a skirt and call myself girly.  Only, I won't do that.  Cuz it's gross.

I woke up and ran over to my guitar and packed it up.  I got into a long Michael Jackson t-shirt (I like shopping in the men's section) and some black shorts.  I got my high tops on and ruffled up my black hair into a bun.  It's pretty short, but I manage. 

I used to have this super emo phase where I wore only black and didn't get anywhere CLOSE to my red or white shirts.  I have four favorite colors, and I tried not to like any of them. 

I stick to being a tomboy like always, still liking long tees and flannels (I'm OBSESSED with flannels) and hanging around guys more than girls. 

Suji and Yamato are gonna come pick me up soon, our flight's at 2:30 PM.

"Morning mom!"  I yelled, dashing out of my room.

I had my suitcase ready and everything.

"Good morning, hon.  Dad's on a business call, but he won't forget to say goodbye," mom said, smiling.

"Okay. Heyyyy, omlets! Sweet!" I said happily, going into the fridge for some AJ.

"So, you sure you wanna go? It's Japan. It's fine if you don't want to-" she said, flipping another omlet before turning around to look at me.

"Mom, I wanna go! It's gonna be sick! I promise- I'll even bring souvenirs for your collection." I said, tilting my head towards a shelf above our TV.

My mom used to travel for her business until she met my step-dad who took up the "working parent" spot.  She brought souvenirs home all the time, and I was stuck with babysitters. 

My first dad wasn't the best.  My mom said he was very sweet, but when I came around, he sorta laid back and didn't care for anything unless she came home with food, or he needed money for something.

He smoked a lot after I was born.  I have a breathing problem, too.  Not asthma, but the smoking really didn't help.

Our house always smelt horrible.  He would get drunk at parties, come home, and throw up in our kitchen sink.  My mom would try to clean it, but it smelt gross.

Back to souvenirs instead of my tragic dad story, I gave my mom souvenirs that I made by myself.  They looked ridiculous, but I was seven.

I heard my mom's room door open. 

My dad walked out.

"Hey, kiddo! Excited for Japan?" He asked, walking over to me.

I ran to him and hugged him.

"Yeah, it's so exciting, but all that waiting in airports, man. It's gonna suck gettin' there, but when we arrive it'll be worth the wait," I said, stepping away from him, smiling.

Ding-dong!

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