My Tutor - Part 1

The young American gazed out of the window of the plane, eyes wide with awe as they roamed over the green hillsides of England. To be honest, he had not expected them to arrive as quickly as they did. He thought that he would be looking at the gray sea forever, never to reach the small island that he was being sent to. The hills and small houses of the countryside flashed before him, through the clouds, as he thought back to his 'home' in America.

More specifically, he thought of the care house that he had been raised in for the past 17 years of his life. His seat went back a bit as he sat back in it, a grin on his face as he thought of what the people who watched over him had said, prior to his trip here.

It was very sudden. "Pack your things," They had said one day at breakfast, "You'll be going to school in England in around one month. There is another care house that will take you in while you study." He had been surprised at the sudden decision, but had run around in excitement for the rest of the day, telling all who would listen that he, Alfred F. Jones, was going to England! He smiled wide, bouncing around in his seat as a voice came over the speaker in the plane. They were almost there!

As the nose of the plane was brought down to land, he wondered what it would be like here. Would the people be friendly? Would he get to see London Bridge? He giggled at the thought, imagining it. To be standing under the actual London Bridge! It would be amazing! Once they landed, he quickly unbuckled his seatbelt and grabbed his things, eager to be one of the first off of the plane. He scooted past a couple of people, ignorant to the dirty looks, and mumbles of "Git" before finally getting out into the airport.

He looked around at the various sights of the airport, running over to a window to look at the runway, along with the hills and trees beyond. It was overcast, and the light that shone through the clouds was a soft gray. He smiled wide, putting his hand up to touch the glass. He was finally here. A couple people stared at him as he ran through the airport, saying hello to everyone and buying some things to eat from the small stores that were there.  He was so busy looking at everyone, and marveling over their accents, that he had forgotten that he had to be somewhere! He stopped to pull a crumpled piece of paper out of the pocket on his coat. He looked it over, but realized that he didn't recognize the address.

He shrugged, figuring he would just ask a taxi to take him. He ran through the building once more and out of the exit onto the streets, when suddenly he bumped into someone, accidentally knocking the things that both of them were holding on to the floor. He ended up on his back; a bag filled with books had landed on his face, and the words "Bloody Hell!" echoed in his ears.

The bag was quickly snatched up, and he met the emerald eyes of a shaggy, blonde-haired man. He put on a smile, quickly helping the other pick up his things, "Sorry dude, that was my bad!" he chuckled. The other rolled his eyes, "I'd bloody well say it was 'your bad'." He bent down to pick up a couple of stray papers that had flown off, "Kindly watch where you're walking, next time." His voice sounded bitter.

Alfred grinned sheepishly, "Sorry, man. I guess I was just excited. This is my first time in England, y'see, and-" The other held up a hand to cut him off, "As much as I would like to continue this conversation, I have places to be." He quickly gathered up the rest of his things, and then brushed himself off before striding quickly off into the opposite direction. Alfred watched after him for a moment, and then quickly turned around a continued to run through the streets, marveling at every new sight.

He looked around a bit, and then boarded a red bus that was taller than any other he had seen. He quickly grabbed a seat at the top of the bus, waving at people that they drove by. The bus would stop, and he would have conversations with whoever would get on, telling them of his adventure so far, and how he couldn't wait to begin his studies. That's when he remembered that he needed to get to the care house! He pulled the paper out of his pocket, he had stuffed it there after he had bumped into the guy back outside of the airport, and quickly looked over the address. He looked around, and noticed that they were close already! A good thing, since it had gotten dark.

He got off of the bus when he was in walking distance of the orphanage, waving a goodbye to the thankful bus driver. He shivered slightly; glad that he would soon have a place to get out of the cold. But when he looked up at the sight in front of him, he paused. This... was the care house? A tall house loomed in front of him, a bit of light coming from the window where a small lamp was on. He scratched the back of his head and looked at the address again, making sure he had gotten it right.

When he was sure that this indeed was the address printed on the small piece of paper, he shrugged, then went up and knocked on the door. A bit of rustling, and a click was heard as the door was unlocked, before it swung open to reveal... "British Dude?" Alfred blinked, surprised. "What are you doing in an care house?"

The Briton blinked as he stared at the blue eyed youth in front of him. "Who are you? And what the bloody hell are you going on about?" Alfred held up the scrap of paper, "The care house, see?" He looked the man up and down, taking in his robe and slippers, "You don't look like you're working..." The other blinked as he read over the paper, then grabbed it from him. "Where did you get this? This is the address to my home!" He suddenly remembered, "Oi... aren't you that American git I bumped into earlier...?"

Alfred rubbed the back of his head and smiled as he realized what had happened, "Aw man, I think when I bumped into you, we must've gotten the addresses switched around, dude. I was just trying to find the care house. I came here to England to study, and I'm supposed to be-" He was cut off again as the Englishman sighed and put up a hand, "Well that's good and jolly, but I have to be off to bed now, so.."

Alfred blinked and put out a hand to stop the door from closing, "Wait! I still don't know how to get to the orphanage! Come on, you've got to help me, dude!" The Britain groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose, "Very well... come in and I'll see if I can find the address..." He sighed, "And please refrain from calling me 'dude'. My name is Arthur. Arthur Kirkland." He opened the door, stepping back as the American ran into his house, and looked around. "Oh du- er, Arthur! Man, you have the coolest house!" He ran over to a bookshelf and grabbed a book, ruffling through the pages.

Arthur quickly grabbed the book away from him, putting it back onto the shelf in the spot where he had taken it from. "Please, do not touch my things. Wait here and I'll see if I can find the address." He walked into another room, leaving Alfred to gaze around in wonder at the small knickknacks in the room. The young American walked over to a shelf, and looked into a bottle that had a small ship in it. His breath clouded the glass as he got close to peer in, and he saw that every detail was perfect. "Creepy, man..." He mumbled as he looked, then moved on to look at the titles of some books.

When Arthur got back into the room, Alfred was busy trying to balance a model of a pirate ship on his nose. "What are you doing?!" He yelled, flinching as the American wobbled and the ship fell. Alfred caught the model before it hit the floor, however, and balanced it in his palm. "Wow, where did you get this?" He asked, "I make model planes sometimes, but they never have this much detail..." He looked up as the ship was grabbed, and hastily put back up on the shelf. "I made it... And didn't I tell you not to touch anything?" He sighed, "I couldn't find the address in any of the things I had dropped... And I just sent my computer to be fixed recently, so we cannot use that..."

Alfred beamed up at him, "Well that's alright. I mean, I could just chill here with you!" He blushed, "That is, if you don't mind..." Arthur sighed and rubbed the back of his head, "I suppose it can't be helped... It's late..." He looked at the American, "Fine... You may stay. There is guest bedroom upstairs-" His eyes widened as the other pulled him into a hug, "Thanks man! You're the best!" Alfred grinned.

Arthur coughed gruffly, "Er.. right.." He pushed the other away, "Follow me, then." The stairs creaked as they walked up them, and Alfred looked around once they got to the top. Arthur pointed down the hall, "It's the last door to the right..." he said, before turning and walking in the opposite direction to a door on the other end of the hall. Alfred watched him go, and heard a click as his door was locked. He smiled softly before going to his own door and opening it, walking into a small room that had a single bed. There was a dusty white curtain covering the window, and he opened it, looking out into the streets of London. The cool air blew across his face and he smiled, looking up at the stars. His time in England could only get better.