World Academy: Forgotten Memory (UsUk)

Chapter 1: World Academy

Chapter 1: World Academy

“Arthur! Wake up now or you’ll seriously be late for your first day of school!”

Arthur’s eyes slid open, and he stayed where he was for several minutes as his vision returned and he woke to full consciousness. He sighed as he sat up in his bed, and looked around his new room.

He and his family had moved to the states only a week ago from England, so he had spent his time organizing his room accordingly. His walls were lined with post-cards from England, and a British flag hung over his bed proudly. Dark drapes hung over his bay window, and his guitar was in a corner next to a bean bag chair. Several dressers had knick knacks and pictures on top.

Arthur’s eyes fell to a chair against one wall, and he sighed. His new school uniform was folded neatly on the chair. His sister’s doing he guessed. Next to the chair was his old messenger bag.

“Now would be preferable!” his sister’s voice came again, and Arthur groaned.

He got up and tossed his many blankets back in place, then hurried into the bathroom that adjoined with his room. That was a good thing about the house, he thought. He wouldn’t have to share a bathroom with his siblings.

He took a quick shower and got out, pulling on the school uniform while cursing under his breath at how stupid it looked. He buttoned the white shirt and pulled a sweater vest over his head. He grabbed his bag as he walked out of his room.

“What? Do you wanna get beat up?” Arthur’s brother, Carson, asked as he walked into the kitchen.

Arthur glared at him and grabbed a piece of bread to toast, “Did Alistor leave already?”

“Yea,” Arthur’s sister pushed back her ruby hair and tied it up with a hair tie, “He went to look around for a job,”

“Mmm,” Arthur grabbed the toast as it popped up and turned to the door.

“Do you want a ride?” Ashling asked.

“No, I’d rather walk,” Arthur said, closing the door behind him and walking down the pathway in front of his new house to the sidewalk and turning left.

He had walked around a few days after he moved in, and had found the school he would be attending was just outside his neighborhood.

Arthur finished eating the toast he had and pulled a book out of his bag, flipping it open to where his bookmark was. He was quite entranced with the book, and wasn’t looking where he was going, for the next second he was sprawled out on the ground, staring in shock at a boy with bright sandy-blonde hair and sapphire blue eyes, who looked equally shocked.

“Sorry bro!” the boy said, so loudly that Arthur winced.

He stood up and dusted his pants off, then grabbed his book from the ground, “It’s fine,” he mumbled under his breath, then started walking.

“Mattie! Hurry it up!” the boy behind Arthur called, then appeared beside him, “Hi! I’m Alfred F. Jones! Never seen you around before, what’s your name?”

“Please stop yelling,” Arthur said, walking faster.

Alfred also walked faster, laughing, “Sorry, I tend to use my outside voice a lot. What’s your name?”

“Arthur Kirkland,” Arthur muttered, trying to walk faster. Who was this guy anyway?

“Cool, cool! Hey, you from England? You’ve got the accent,”

“Yes,” Arthur said.

“That’s neat. I’m from New York, but I’ve lived here most of my life. Mattie! Quit walking so slow!”