The classroom was quiet with the soft sounds of pencils scratching and students whispering when the teacher’s phone pinged with a message. Looking up from her marking, the teacher picked up the handheld device and punched in a quick reply before standing up and walking over to the desk of her most reserved student. 

“Taylor, Principal Harmond would like to see you.” She said softly, the message she had received sending a sadness through her. “If you wouldn’t mind packing up your things, I’ll grab your test. I’ve just finished marking it.”

“Yes ma’am.” The copper haired boy replied as he closed his note book and tucked his pencil into a well worn case. Slipping everything into his backpack he stood up and pushed in his chair. He followed the young teacher to her desk where she dug through her stack of papers and handed over his. 

“Excellent job again.” She said, tapping the 98% on the top. “You forgot to show your work in question 57 so I had to take a mark off.”

Nodding Taylor flipped quickly to the question and read it over. He nodded again and opened his mouth to speak but was cut off.

“You had better hurry along to the office, Principal Harmond doesn’t like to be kept waiting.” She started to place her hand on her student’s arm but stopped. She couldn’t show her favouritism in front of the others, especially with the news that the poor boy was about to receive. 

“Thank you.” He said, heading towards the door and stopping just before he stepped out in to the hallway. “Thank you for teaching me this year, I learned a lot from you.”

“You’re welcome?” Her reply was confused, did he know what was in the principal’s message that she had received? 

“I’ll be moving again I assume.” He answered, answering her unasked question. “This has been my longest stay so far and you’ve been such an accommodating teacher. Thank you.” He left without another word, ignoring the increase in volume as his former fellow classmates began gossiping about what could possibly be happening. 

His steps echoed as he walked down the deserted hallway. The blue lockers that lined the way gave off a cold feeling and he had made it nearly to the end when he heard a voice call out his name. 

“Taylor! You finally decide that you’re not too good to skip?” A blond hair, short boy teased as he came around the corner. 

“Principal’s office.” Taylor said slowly, he worked hard to keep his slight Korean accent out of his voice. Most of the time he spoke without the little change to his voice, but when he felt certain strong emotions it became harder to fight. 

“What you do man?” Leaning against a locker, the blond boy gave a smirk.

“Pretty sure I’m moving again.” His answer came in a dull way, nothing to be upset over considering he had changed schools once already that year. It was nothing short of miraculous considering his usual turn over rate had an average of three schools, going as high as 7 in one year. 

Third grade had been a real . 

“Dude you just got here!”

“Back in September.” He supplied, giving his friend a nudge. “Eric you’re on my locker.”

“Point?”

“I’m going to need to get my stuff.”

“But you’re on your way to the office?” Eric said slightly confused, he hadn’t know his friend to disobey a teacher’s order.

“Its easier for me to clear out my things now, before the principal makes me come back and do it when everyone is in the hallway.” He spun the dial on his lock, tugging it hard to open. The metal door banged against the other lockers loudly. 

There was only a handful of other school books inside, along with a paper bag with his school provided gym uniform and his half empty down-filled fifth hand jacket. Shoving his gym shoes in his backpack and his notebooks, Taylor hoped that the ripped seam would hold at least until he was able to get back to his latest foster house. 

He picked up the library book he had swiped from the school and bit his lip while he decided what to do with it. The old Korean language textbook hadn’t had its spine cracked when he found it and there were no return dates stamped in the cover. So he had figured that no one would notice if he took it. 

He ripped out the sensor strip and slipped it in his bag too. 

Gathering up the textbooks and placing his cloths on top, Taylor shut the door. 

“Walk me to the office?” He asked Eric, knowing that unless he was lucky enough to get assigned a new foster home in a near by city, he would likely never see his friend again. 

“Sure man, but I’m skipping chemistry so I’ll have to head off before we get there. That old bat of a secretary hates me.” He pushed off from his lean and the two boys started to walk. 

“Maybe if you actually attended more class than you skipped, Mrs. Baxter wouldn’t hate you so much.” Taylor let himself smirk. 

He got a punch to the arm for that retrospective. “Hey we can’t all be super smart genius types. Some of us have to set the bar low for ‘The Man.’” He cocked his fingers in the air as he referred to the school administration. 

“The 90s called, they want their expression back.” Taylor deadpanned, knowing that he was going to miss his friend’s griping. 

“China called, they want their eyes back.” The blond shot back.

“Racist much?” Taylor said, he wouldn’t miss the low-key racism that most of the student body the school subscribed to. “Also, I am Korean.” 

“Yeah but you’re like American-Korean.” They turned another corner and the clear glass walls of the office came into view. 

“Technically I’m just Korean. I wasn’t born here and something something can’t take the citizenship test until I’m “of legal age.” So not American.” His foster family like to remind him of that as often as they could. He debated on launching into a tirade on how referring to all people of asian descent as Chinese was a highly racist and inappropriate thing but knew that there was no point. 

He was going to be gone soon enough and it was something that was going to follow him wherever he went next. 

“Right, sorry dude.” Eric said rather distractedly. “Well I can see the top of old Batter’s desk so there is where I jump off. Later.” He punched Taylor’s arm again, missed the pained expression on the other’s face, and run off in the opposite direction. 

Rubbing his arm and feeling slightly grateful he was leaving his ‘friend’ and ashamed that the one time someone at least made the effort he was grateful to be leaving them, he headed to the door.