The boy looked at me on the floor and scrunched his eyebrows together. "Is this not the male bathroom?"

A laugh escaped my lips as I stared up at the him. He was either really dense or just joking around.

"No, it's not the boy's bathroom." His eyes went wide and he began to apologize. I lifted an eyebrow and stood up. It shouldn't have shocked me because I was a naturally short person but he was at least a foot taller than me. Tall and attractive, what else do you have hiding?

"Why are you apologizing?" His eyes shot to mine and I finally got to look at his face fully. Heterochromia iridum. His left eye was a sky blue color, the color of my eyes. It was beautiful, of course, but it was nothing compared to his right eye.

His iris was green. The kind of green that grew over rocks, making them disappear into a cave of moss. That green that pushes it's way through the snow to remind you that spring was coming once again. The color that brought hope and life to all that gazed upon it.

I realized I had been staring too long when the boy was looking back at me expectantly. "I totally wasn't paying attention to anything you just said. Repeat please."

He pulled his eyebrows together, just as I had done earlier, and repeated his words. "I asked the other males where the bathroom was because I need to urinate. They had said it was this room but I suppose I walked into the female bathroom."

Female bathroom? "Bro, this is the janitor's closet. The female bathroom, though old and run down, is much better than this."

He just nodded his head and adjusted his book bag strap. "I'll show you to the boy's bathroom as long as you show me the boys who told you this was the guy bathroom. 'Kay?" I clicked my tongue on the last word.

If it was Arshly and his group I swear to god. "Alright. May we please be quick because I may urinate soon."

I laughed again as I stepped into the hallway. "T.m.i. buddy."

I began my, exuse me, we began our journey down the hall to the boy's restroom. "What is the definition of T.m.i.?"

That's it. I've decided that this is the most clueless boy on the planet. How the hell could he not know what T.m.i. stands for? That's basic knowledge, even for the old lady who lives in the apartment next door.

"It stands for 'Too Much Information.' That means you didn't have to tell me you are gonna' pee your pants." I turned the corner and dodged a few students but my companion didn't seem to be as lucky.

I turned around after I heard a thump on the floor and rolled my eyes. "My apologizes. I am still getting used to this human body." Woah, wait a minute. Human body?

"Are you one of those aliens?" He turned to me and smiled while nodding his head. What an adorable smile. A smile like his was so cute it was contagious.

After thirty seconds of speed walking down a couple hallways we finally reached the boys bathroom. "Here we are, you may urinate so you can hold up your end of the deal."

The boy nodded quickly and ran into the bathroom to relieve himself and I sat against the wall, contemplating life and shit.

For example, why was I the one who got bullied? I already have to deal with raising a child on my own and basically anything the priveliged pricks don't have to worry about.

It's not that I find Reagan as a bother or a problem, it's just really hard to raise a kid. I have to deal with school, two jobs, the pervert downstairs, and keeping Gan safe. None of the popular kids in my school knew what it was like to have no parents. They didn't know the struggle of telling your little brother that you both had to go another night hungry. They didn't know the stress of keeping two jobs at once and balancing them with school.

They just didn't know.

"I am ready to," he paused and pulled his eyebrows together as if he was contemplating something. "Hold up my end of the deal."

I totally forgot! The aliens are taught basic human words of where they would be living. Many of them are taught multiple languages, such as Chinese, English, Spanish, and Arabic. They were taught a wide variety of languages to help communication between humans and them. But their knowledge of languages are very simple. The slang people use, the sarcasm, the jokes, anything that wasn't the proper language was something they didn't understand.

"Okay, let's go find who gave you those crappy directions to the bathroom."

After about ten minutes of searching we stumbled across a group of over-grown, moldy mushrooms. And in that group the boy next to me pointed at one mushroom in particular. The tallest, most muscly, most attractive mushroom. Arshly S. 

Every girl in the school, besides the lesbians and the ones with common sense, had a crush on Ass-ly. I would have liked him too if it wasn't for the constant bullying and douch-ery. He had it all: The money, the popularity, the looks.

It wasn't the fact that he was a total douchbag that kept me away from him. It was something far deeper that he couldn't control. His personality was bland.

"That's the boy who told you the closet was the bathroom?" The boy nodded shyly and I sighed, knowing I was about to get into deep shit.

Within a span of five seconds I was being whisked away to the principle's office.