Alyssa always thought her life was as boring as life could ever get; the most exciting thing she ever did was watch Neighbours…well, that was until the female American exchange student came to stay at her house.

Although, when finding out that the she, is actually a he, she believes that her mind is turning to turmoil. But little does she know that hidden secrets have been kept from her, and that the new-found cross-dresser is actually going to be the one saving her life…

Chapter 1: I Hate Letters

"Finally!" Rebecca, yawned as she stretched her arms out to the sound of the bell, wearing the lilac-coloured uniform that we were forced to wear. Let me say it again: forced; we even protested to have a different kind…any kind of different uniform. But there were certain people who thought that a lilac-coloured uniform looked cute, including a girl called Jennifer Millan…

Jennifer Millan, better known as Jenni by her close friends, was commonly known as Miss Perfect; amazing at everything, sickeningly beautiful and a complete guy magnet; guys practically flocked to her locker to just get a single look at her perfect honey coated skin and glossy white blonde hair.

I gathered together the geography books scattered across my desk and piled them into my bag whilst the rest of the class chattered before filing out of the class. I glanced up at Becca, who was already out of her seat, and was tapping her foot impatiently at me, "God, Alyssa; you take so long to get ready; I want to go to form already!" She whined whilst her sleek ebony fringe scattered across her bright blue eyes as she nodded at me to hurry up.

"Alright, already," I sighed as I slung my bag across my right shoulder, "I'm coming."

Shall I tell you a little bit about myself? Well, even if you don't really want to know, I'll tell you anyway. Don't worry; I am a rather boring person, so it won't take up much of your time.

My name's Alyssa Andrews, and I live in suburban London. I have boring chestnut hair, which usually lies in a mess upon my shoulders, and hazel eyes. The most exciting thing I do in the whole day is probably watch a series of Soaps at night before going to sleep. I am an only child, and live with my over-protective parents in a small terraced house, housing only 3 bedrooms, 1 bathroom, a kitchen, a living room and a study.

This brings me along to another topic with 'OVER-PROTECTIVE PARENTS' written all over it; when we were about to be assigned our exchange students from America (as part of our multi-cultural project), my father sent in a letter to my school. This 'letter' consisted of him telling them that I was not to have a male exchange student, since he thought that it would be 'inappropriate'. It was so ridiculous that when I told Becca about it, she wouldn't stop laughing for several hours, and that was only after I splashed a bottle of water all over her face.

Because of my parents' lack of trust in me (and them constantly trying to wrap me in cotton wool) I have never had a boyfriend. Or rather, I would never have been asked out anyway, since I'm such a social freak. I only have a couple of friends; Becca, Callum and Jay, and the only reason they let me hang around with Callum and Jay, was by me and Becca convincing my parents that they were a gay couple…which, to this day, Callum and Jay have been resenting us for.

Becca is probably the loudest and most dramatic person I have ever known; I've always told her that it's a pity that she doesn't go to drama club. She's a good two inches taller than me, and wears her hair in a coal black bob with a slanted fringe partially covering her left eye. Numerous piercings are scattered down her ears, and a single star stud upon the right side of her nose.

Jay and Callum are sort of brothers to me; they're always looking out for me, and are sweet…most of the time, anyway…when they're not poking fun at me for stacking in the corridor or turning red in the face when I'm embarrassed. Jay has dyed purple hair, and is the guitarist and lead vocalist for a rock band called 'Dehydrated'; I once asked him why it was called that, but he would never really answer me.

Callum, on the other hand, is an athlete…but can never really be bothered most of the time, since he hates most of the cocky guys that he has to train with, and is friendlier with Jay. He is actually really amazing at running and soccer, and wins most of the regional competitions that he enters, causing many girls to swoon over him, and a lot of the other guys hate him…It also doesn't help that he has natural golden blonde hair, a dark tan and deep ocean blue eyes. Although, he doesn't like the attention because he actually quite a softy inside when you melt down the 'I'm hard' front he puts on.

"Come on!" Becca moaned in severe annoyance as she held the door open, "Let's go!"

"I said I'm coming already!" I answered, snapping out of the half-day dream I had drifted into, "Plus, why are you in such a rush?"

We commenced down the corridor at high speed; I was practically jogging to keep up with Becca's long strides. It's so unfair; why do I have to be so small and she can be so tall?

"You're such a dummy!" Came Becca's answer as we turned a corner into languages, where our form was located with Mrs Generive. We were so unlucky to have her, of all teachers, as our form tutor, since she hated our guts ever since we were in her French class painting posters advertising France. Becca and I had accidentally spilt a mixture of brown, purple and pink paint on her new top from Monsoon, which cost at least £120. It also didn't help that Jay came into the room after the incident occurred, and told her that he thought her top was very 'tasteful'.

"Don't you get what's on today?" Becca rolled her eyes at me and stopped in the middle of the shuffling corridor of all the student trying to get into their classrooms, some getting told off for running up the corridors and kicking their footballs against the walls. This created a general sound of CRASH, SMACK, 'It wasn't me Miss' and a whole lot of English (and foreign) swearing.

"No," I shrugged, glancing at a boy, hands in pockets whilst telling the teacher to 'Fuck off' as the teacher, a man with a thin moustache just below is nose and a chin full of stubble, scribbled out a detention card.

Becca sighed in exasperation, "We get those letters back, you know, from those American kids?" When my face lightened up as if to say 'Oh yeah', she carried on babbling with excitement, "I hope that mine's a guy…wow, I hope he'll have big muscles and that broad…y'know, New York accent, like they have in the movies…" Her eyes glassed over in her imagination of her perfect guy, and kept like that until we reached our form class "Or he could be one of those rough guys with all the tattoos down his arms, and a scar down his cheek…and loads of piercings on his eyebrows…" She sighed dreamily as she dropped into her seat in front of me; in form, she sat next to Callum, and Jay was in a different form class, so I didn't sit next to anyone in form.

To be honest, I wasn't exactly looking that forward to the American exchange students coming…I mean, what if they didn't like me? I was one of the most boring people in the world, so how could anyone (apart from my friends) like me? It was impossible; they would get tired of me in 1 day; 2 days max.

Also, because of my dad and mum, it wouldn't be a guy that I would get as an exchange. Apart from the whole 'I'll never get a boyfriend' thing, I usually don't get along with many girls (apart from Becca) very well because they find me boring. With guys, I find them a little easier to talk to you, since they don't criticise every word you say, and just make fun of me, which I don't really mind. Also, because of my size, they find me cute, in an odd sort of way, and talk to me…well, that's before they meet my parents.

But, enough about my annoyingly over-protective parents.

"Hey," A deep voice greeted us from behind us, "How was geography with Mr Egg?" Our Geography teacher isn't actually called 'Mr Egg'; it's a nickname Becca and I made up for him after we saw him in the cafeteria, devouring an egg salad, a scotch egg, then a chocolate egg. His real name is actually Edward Egwin; ironic, isn't it?

"Hey Cal," I greeted him, smiling before Becca flopped in her chair as if she'd just had a heart attack, and said "It was as boring as ever," before her arms failed above her head, wacking me and Callum in the head "we were learning about frontal winds! I mean, who even needs to know about frontal winds? What even are frontal winds?" She turned her head to ask me.

"I would have known," I commented dryly, "If you had stopped poking me with that damn pencil whilst we were watching the video, asking me who I thought was hotter, Leonardo DiCaprio or Leonardo Da Vinci-"

"But they're both so hot" Becca sighed.

"You do know," said a voice wryly from behind me, "that one of them is a movie star, and one of them is a 555 year old painter and engineer, who died on May 7th, 1519." We turned around and saw Jay leaning against the wall, smirking.

"Of course I knew that, stupid," Becca snapped as she glared at him, "I happen to have a thing for beards."

"Maybe I should think about growing one, then," Jay grinned. Before Becca could bark back a reply, (they are always arguing about something or another. Callum and I joked that it was because of the sexual tension between them), I asked Jay why he was in our form.

"I was bored," He drawled lazily, "And could no longer delay seeing my fair maidens any longer…"

Callum raised one of his fair eyebrow "You're such a moron."

To this comment, Jay cried, "How could I ever forget the love of my life; my sweet Callum!" He raced over to Callum and threw his arms across him, "Gay love is so refreshing."

"Get the hell off me," Callum grunted, shoving Jay off of him, but at the same time, grinned; he knew that whenever Jay could sense Becca's presence, he tried to act as stupid he could ever possibly be; it was like his virtue to piss Becca off.

"Jason Hammond!" A French accent shouted in utmost hatred, "What on earth are you doing in this classroom? Get OUT!" If any teacher hated Jay, they would never hate him as much as Miss Generieve.

"But Miss!" He exclaimed dramatically, his hand flying to his head. Despite the fact that most of the year 11s were used to his stupid antics, they still managed to be startled, before simply giving him annoyed looks, "I have ventured far and wide to seek you out to confess my beatific love towards you; I can feel my heart stop as I stare into your chocolate brown eyes-"

"Be careful with what you say, she might start to return your feelings," I whispered.

Her face went purple with rage as her eyes narrowed at him; "Jason Hammond, how dare you insult me? You inso-insol-ino-"

"Insolent?" Jay suggested as her face took to a red tinge as she began gaping like a fish.

"I think," I whispered to him, "that you should run whilst she's unable to speak, therefore she will be unable to say 'detention'."

"I think," He whispered back, "that you're right," at that point, he legged it out of the classroom.

Miss Generieve shook her head, as if to shake off the entire red colour that had flushed upon her cheeks, "Be quiet!" She shouted in her small voice, so many people carried on talking, "I SAID BE QUIET!" She shouted, and still people carried on talking.

At a glance, Becca noticed the bunch of crumpled papers within her right hand, and her eyes widened in excitement, then glowered to show a feeling of immense annoyance at all the people that were talking.

On a third try of Miss Generieve asking everyone to be quiet, Becca, the drama queen she is, jumped up onto the table, and shouted "All of you dumbass numbskulls shut the hell up; I want my letter!"

Miss Generieve stared at her, along with the rest of the class, and everyone was quiet as I said to Becca "I think you can get down now."

Now, anyone would have been embarrassed after doing what Becca had done, but she just jumped back into her chair and told Miss Generieve to "simply proceed."

With only I could recall as sarcasm, our form tutor said "Thank you for confirming my status in the room, Rebecca; it was gladly appreciated". And Becca, being Becca, gladly answered "Why thank you, Miss Generieve."

Our tutor, annoyed at being unable to control any minority of students, gave up trying to talk to us about the announcements after Becca's little rampage, simply gave up and handed out the letters from our exchange students.

When Becca received her letter, she let out a stifled grown as she saw that her exchange student was going to be a girl, and attached was a photo of a greasy-haired girl, displaying a number of spots and moles upon her face, her eyes; shadowed over by rounded glasses.

"This is not happening!" Becca yelled as she threw her arms into the air, "I wanted a guy! A nice looking guy! How is this girl supposed to live in my house? And look at this letter that she wrote me…" Becca rambled on about how everything about the letter was 'inadequate'.

Callum looked puzzled over his letter, but then groaned when he saw a picture of a girl in a cheerleaders outfit. I later found out that he couldn't understand the letter at first, since most of it didn't make sense…well, except the bit at the end, where it told him that he had 'better be good looking'.

My letter, however, included no photo whatsoever, even when I asked my tutor, she said that they had not received a letter from my student. Due to my father wanting me to have a female student, they had to change the student I had quite quickly, and must have forgotten to include a photo.

Great, I thought, now I get the surprise of seeing who turns up on my doorstep.

I ripped the envelope open and slipped out the letter:-

Dear Alyssa Anderson,

I hope that we will get along well, and I hope you like things to do with make-up!


I like anything girly, and I love anything pink; isn't that fabulous?!

Oh god; I was going to be stuck with a maniac who loves pink.

Cute and fluffy things are also definitely my thing, and I'm sure that you'll have that type of stuff in your room…

Shit. What was this person going to say when they found the skulls hanging up from my ceiling?

See you on Tuesday!


I was so doomed.

Return to Top