Welcome to Ouran, New Girl from America!

Chapter One

I awoke to the annoying blare of my old alarm clock, and an unwilling peek through half-closed, sleep-drowsy eyes at the menacing red numbers made me groan slightly. It was 6:00 in the morning, my required wake-up time for school, and it wouldn't be long before my mother came in to rouse me if I didn't have the willpower to get up myself. I slowly sat up, the warmth of the sheets escaping into the chilly morning air around me. My back cracked in a few places, and when my arms reached for the ceiling the rest of it followed, making me slightly sleepier.

"Talia, are you awake?" My mother's head appeared in my doorway, and the wonderful sensation of peaceful sleep was gone. "Good. Don't forget to eat breakfast before you go." Before I can nod, she disappears, heading down the small hallway and out the door to her job as a waitress at a nearby diner. "I love you!" her voice echoed down the hall, and I manage to signal some sort of response through an enormous yawn.

"I love you, too," was what I had tried to say, but the door had closed swiftly behind her, and I was unsure if she had heard or not. I heaved myself off of the low bed and stumbled over to the window while wiping sleep from my eyes, wondering if I could catch her before she pedaled off on her bike. I glanced out, seeing my mother at the end of our driveway, waiting for some cars to pass. I rapped on the window with my knuckles, and as she turned towards me I waved, smiling. She waves back, and before she leaves she mouths something to me. "Good luck today."

Good luck; that was something I would definitely need today. Today would be my first day in attending Ouran Academy, a prestigious school for super rich kids whose parents were way up in the deep end of the social pool; only the kids of multi-millionaires made it into this school. Not only that, but usually only natives from Japan were allowed. Apparently, I was the first American transfer student to meet the standards for Ouran.

But, miraculously, little old I had been smart enough to earn a scholarship into this fancy school, and since my grades were so unbelievably great, they had agreed to offering the scholarship and paying the expenses in moving me and my guardian – in an unanimous decision, my mom – to Japan. The rest of our family, which include my dad, my two brothers and my little sister, stayed behind in the United States. At first I hadn't wanted to be separated from my family, so I was prepared to decline the scholarship to Japan and find one in the States to accept. But, my family strongly encouraged me going to Japan even if it meant being away for two years. They all insisted that it would be a once-in-a-lifetime experience and that I was crazy if I even thought about turning it down. They all had my back, and even though I would be moving to another country, I knew I was very fortunate to have such a loving family.

Returning to the present, I turned to my tiny closet and opened the doors, groaning at the sight of my new, ghastly uniform that I had to wear. It was a painfully bright yellow, complete with pink neck bow and white neck and cuffs. A pair of knee-high socks with brown shoes lay at the bottom of the closet, and I didn't care much for those, either. They pinched my toes when I had tried them on, and just the thought of walking around in them for the entire day made me cringe. But, I eventually – not to mention reluctantly – changed into it, silently praying that the day would be over soon.

Once in my clown suit, I headed into the kitchen and downed a glass of milk and a couple pieces of toast. I gathered up my bag and my school books from the small bookshelf right next to the front door, and with one last glance at the mirror on the opposite side -ensuring my straight, light brown hair was smoothed and my light green eyes were not as tired-looking as my body felt - I exited my house to see a black car waiting for me. A swift, backwards glance at the small clock hanging on the wall told me that it was 6:30; the determined time for my transportation to the school to arrive. I walked down our narrow drive, and as I approached the chauffeur got out of the car and came around to open the door for me. "Thank you," I told him, and as I sat I realized that I was extremely thankful that my old school had offered Japanese lessons online. With a curt nod, the driver closed the door behind me and quickly got back into the driver's seat. In less than a minute we were well on our way to Ouran Academy, and it only took a little over 15 minutes to arrive at the school's doors.