i.

10:00

First day; Mid-August

Zelda

I was lost.

I tried my best not to panick. Well, not to show that I was panicking, at least. I was hardly ever lost. Never, actually, until now. I might not always know exactly where I was, I might wander a lot in unfamiliar areas, but I always knew where to go, or how to get back.

Right now, however, as I stood in the middle of some one-horse town in a foreign country I had never been, with no street signs around whatsoever, I had a feeling that I was lost, and the thought absolutely terrified me.

My host family was going to pick me up at the airport, but my plane arrived earlier than expected. I decided that instead of waiting around, I would find my way to their house on my own. So, without waiting for a reply after I informed them of my decision through text, I made use of the airport wifi to find out where to go, saved some useful information, and then took off.

Oh, I reached the right town, alright. I just forgot to check how to walk to my host family's house from there.

Smart, Zelda. You real smart.

Looking around the wide and empty street and the rolls of similar-looking houses lining up along it, I knew I was in deep trouble. It would be a pain in the ass trying to remember the turns I took if every single freaking house looked the same.

Oh, to hell with it. I'm gonna start walking anyway.

I could feel a thin layer of sweat forming on my back, on my chest, and on my forehead in the heated weather. Dressed in all black with a heavy backpack and two duffles didn't help, either. I did not bring a suitcase, and I was seriously regretting that now.

Maybe it was my intuition, or my sense of direction that helped me through so many years, or maybe it was simply sheer luck, but I finally came across the first person in this town after ten minutes of walking. He looked young, and he was washing his car parked on the road. As I neared him, I noticed that he was wearing a loose and worn All Time Low tank top and Pokemon shorts.

When he finally heard me, I was already close enough to notice how his dark brown hair curled. He glanced at me once, and I thought I would have to call for him to get his attention again, but he almost immediately looked back up at me again, as if he only truly processed what he saw then.

"Hey," I started, stopping a safe distance from him and the water pooling around the bottom of his bucket of water. I could practically hear the sound of myself banging my head against the wall and the dying sounds my anxiety was making. "Uh, do you happen to know where the Andersons live?"

I resisted the urge to squirm and fidget when he scanned me up and down. "Anderson?"

"Karen Anderson," I told him, and, seeing his hesitant and doubtful expression, added, "Or her parents. Or Chris Anderson. Or Will Anderson. Any one of those would work."

He stifled a laugh when he heard that, a twinkle appearing in his now bright eyes. "Yeah, I know where they live. I don't think I've ever seen you around. Why you looking for them?"

"I'm new here," I said, not really wanting to go into depth. "I'll be staying with them for the coming year. Can you tell me how to get to their house?"

He looked thoughtful for a moment. "I can actually bring you there, if you can wait for a while. I'll be heading to their place with a friend later. There's a bench in the backyard. You can wait for me there if you want," he offered when he noticed me rolling my shoulder to shift the weight of my duffle.

I internally sighed in relief. "That would be great, actually. Are you sure?"

"Yeah." He placed the towel he was holding on the rim of the water bucket. "Come on in. I don't think I got your name?"

Since he had turned around and started walking, I didn't try to hide my cringe as I revealed my name and followed him. "It's Zelda."

"Zelda? That's not very... common."

"A Legend of Zelda reference. My dad thought it was good idea to let my nerdy, five-year-old then cousin name his daughter. I'm not quite sure I agree."

The boy laughed. "At least you got a funny story to tell. I'm just Jeremy."

"No funny stories?"

"'Fraid not. Here." He motioned towards a worn bench at the side of his backyard, white paint peeling off and everything. "You can wait here until I'm done. I'll get you a drink. What do you want? We have coffee, water, orange juice..."

"Water would be fine," I told him, even though I didn't think I would drink it. "Thanks."

He nodded at me with a smile. "No problem. Just wait here. Do you want anything else? A snack? A book? A magazine?"

I hesitated. "What kind of magazine?"

"Anything from Entertainment Weekly to Rock Sound to National Geographic."

"Rock Sound and National Geographic sound pretty good," I decided. "Thank you."

He looked surprised for a moment. But once one glance at my t-shirt, he shut his mouth. "Sure. I'll be right back."

He went into the house after that, and I wondered if he had called Karen Anderson to confirm my arrival and identity. If he was smart and wasn't planning on doing anything sketchy, he would do that. But if he was about to do something indecent...

Well, I might not have a phone ready, but I knew for sure I would always have my fists ready.

Jeremy appeared with several issues of National Geographic and Rock Sound in one hand and a glass of water in another. I stood up when I received them even though I just got comfy in the chair, not wating to be impolite. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he said, handing me everything. There was an awkward pause, and then he rubbed the back of his neck and said, "I'll go back to washing my car then."

I nodded, but didn't say anything else, and sat down. He gave me one last glance and jogged away. Once he was out of sight, I secretly poured half the glass of water in a potted plant nearby. It looked like it needed the water more than I did anyways. After that, I set the glass aside and started reading.

Jeremy reappeared a little more than a quarter later, looking sweaty and flustered and all. "I'll just go take a quick shower and change," he explained awkwardly. "And then we can grab my friend and we'll be on the way."

"Cool. Take your time," I reassured him with a relaxed smile, waving the magazine I was holding. "I'm enjoying myself here."

He grinned at me, but rushed into the house anyway, probably because he didn't want to keep me waiting. I stacked up the magazine neatly with the glass beside it, and waited.

As he promised, he was quick. In five minutes, he was already down again in a new set of clothes.

"Leave those there," he instructed when I was about to pick the magazines, closing the door behind him. "I'll just handle them when I'm back. Come on. Let's go. My friend should be here any time now- oh, speak of the devil."

A brown haired boy in ripped jeans and a loose tank top was walking towards us. His hair was pushed back to form a quiff, showing his ear piercings perfectly. While Jeremy looked maybe average, his friend looked like he could get a solid 8 without even trying. He acted like he knew that, too.

I lowkey liked Jeremy better though. He was cuter.

"Paris, this is Zelda," Jeremy introduced when his friend got close enough. "Zelda, this is my friend, Paris."

"Hey sweetheart," Paris said to me, grinning.

I raised my eyebrows at that.

"He's a bit of a flirt," Jeremy said, rolling his eyes.

Just a bit, huh?

"I can see that," I replied instead, looking at Paris from head to toe.

Paris' grin widened, but he didn't say anything. Jeremy cleared his throat. "Let's start walking then."

"You look like you've just travelled a great distance," Paris commented, falling back from his friend to walk next to me.

I glanced at Jeremy, who quickly glanced back at us. Then I looked at Paris. "Yeah?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I mean, with your bags and everything."

"I have," I confirmed. "It was like, seventeen hours?"

He whistled. "Damn. That's a long way. Where are you from?"

I didn't really want to tell him just yet, so I opted for a question instead of an answer. "Guess."

"Are you Asian?" he mused. "You look Asian, but you don't talk or act like one."

I shrugged with a straight face. "Guess."

"Are you Japanese? Wait, is Japan even a part of Asia?" He frowned. "Jeremy? A little help?"

I couldn't tell if he was serious or if he was just messing with me.

"Last time I checked, yes, it is." Jeremy looked back at me, worried. "Is it, right?"

"Yes," I told them, not sure if I should be amazed or unimpressed. "It is. And just out of curiosity, how many Asian countries can you name?"

"Okay, she thinks we're stupid now. She's definitely Asain," Paris announced. "I mean, we might not know every single country there is in Asia, but we don't live there anyway, so who cares? I bet you can't name all the American states either."

I could probably name all the American states, and most countries, but that was beside the point, so I didn't tell him that. "I didn't say that," I clarified calmly. "I was just curious. Cultural exchange, you know? I don't know a lot about America. You don't know a lot about Asia. It's just cultural differences. Never said anything about being stupid."

Paris shook his head, insisting. "You implied it. I could just sense it."

"I was just surprised you didn't know Japan was part of Asia," I admitted, the corner of my mouth twitching in amusement. "I thought Americans are usually more interested in Japanese culture than any other Asian culture. Maybe except for Korean culture."

"He was just being dramatic and oversensitive," Jeremy reassured me. "He's like that sometimes."

Paris glared at his friend, but Jeremy didn't seem fazed. He grinned, actually. I resisted the urge to do the same.

"So are you Japanese, then?"

"No."

Paris looked thoughtful as he looked at me. "Hmm. Should've known. You don't look like it. Japanese girls are usually... paler."

I wondered if this was how he usually talked to people. And then I wondered how he had gone by so long without getting socked in the face. Not that I would do that. I just found it a miracle why other people hadn't done it. Multiple times.

"Is this skin colour born with you, or are you just tanned?" he asked now.

Jeremy looked back worriedly. I merely shrugged, since I didn't really find that offensive. Wouldn't blame him for being cautious though. "I'm tanned."

"Then are you-"

"We're here," Jeremy announced, interrupting Paris.

Paris' curious expression morphed into an excited and mischievous one. He went up to the door, and, ignoring the doorbell, banged on the door. "HEY! OPEN THE GODDAMN DOOR!"

Jeremy laughed when I jumped a little, and my cheeks turned pink. Luckily, before he could tease me about it, someone distracted us.

"I'M COMING, DAMMIT!"

Paris snickered and turned to us, amused. "That's what she said."

I snorted.

The door opened, revealing a girl slightly shorter than Paris. Her dirty blonde hair was braided and set on one side of her shoulder, and her amber eyes were narrowed at Paris. So this was Karen Anderson in person.

Paris opened his arm. "Karen! If it isn't my least favourite Anderson. I miss you too, you know."

"Hi Karen," Jeremy, on the other hand, greeted the girl politely. "I brought Zelda here."

That successfully pulled her attention away.

"Zelda?" she repeated, eyes wide. "Zelda! You made it!"

She then rushed to my side and pulled me in a hug. I laughed a little and tried my best to hug her back. When we both pulled back, she was grinning.

"It's so nice to finally meet you!" she squealed, dragging me inside. "Gosh, you must be tired after the plane ride and everything. I'm sorry we didn't get to pick you up. You should've let us, really. We all freaked out when we got your text."

I rubbed the back of my neck sheepishly. "Yeah, sorry about that. I'm more used to doing things without having to tell people about it."

She proceeded to bring me to the kitchen. "Oh, don't sweat it. Chris! Will! Can you bring Zelda's bags to her room first?"

"Okay, okay!" shouted someone from upstairs.

Seconds later, two boys who shared the same hair colour as Karen rushed downstairs. The stronger looking one was shirtless. I didn't blush when I handed them my bags and thanked them, but I didn't look anywhere below his face either. Why do boys do that?

"Hey. I'm Will," the properly clothed boy introduced himself. I'd seen him on Skype with Karen before. "You're Zelda, right? I like your shirt."

He was a couple of years younger than I was. I grinned a little at him. "Really? Thanks. I like yours as well. I didn't think it was possible to do even better than Collide with the Sky, but Misadventures is amazing."

He looked down at his tee. When he looked back up, I noticed his cheeks were pink. "Really? You think so too? That's what I always say!"

I was pretty sure someone snorted, but I didn't pay enough attention to know who. I nodded at Will, relieved that we shared a common interest, but before I could reply, someone spoke up.

"Well, I'm Chris," the other guy cut in, giving me an award winning smile. "Welcome to America."

"Yeah, yeah," Karen said, rolling her eyes, and led me to kitchen holding my hand. "Stop trying to charm her. She just got here. You're just being creepy."

I chuckled at what she said. She made me sat at the counter and soon joined me with some cookies and some drinks.

"So," she started, popping open a can of soda. "How did you even get here?"

Oh boy. How do I even start?

a/n:

Soooo excited to post the first chapter. :D I hope you enjoyed it. Feel free to leave me feedback of any kind. Comments of what you expect or how you feel about this so far would also be great. c: