I’m an exchange student— technically. I came from Italy and moved to America, hence my strong accent and my family’s traditions, but when I got accepted into college, they saw I was in my home town and put me as an exchange student…although it’s not true, I’m just glad I got in, and that’s something I can fix later.

my family was so so helpful. My mom and even my aunt, her sister, packed me weeks of food supply, and even personal family recipes. My two older cousins James and Ethan helped me move in everything and now I’m sitting on the couch.

it was a rough move, considering I have so much furniture, but now I’m able to rest. As I text my family, thanking them for everything, I hear the door open to the apartment.

“Oh, you’re the roommate I have?” I ask, my Italian accent very thick, but it’s still easy to make out what I’m saying. A fan blows on me, my basketball shorts moving with the air, while my white t shirt mainly stays still. I look at you from the couch, waiting for an answer.