I clutched my sketchbook close to my chest. I stared at the huge buildings here in England. And BAM! Someone crashed into me. All I heard was my sketchbook fall onto the ground, well out of reach.
"Oh my! Are you alright?" A heard a guy's voice.
I opened up my eyes, "I'm ok." I looked up and saw that a very attractive boy standing over me, his hand extended.
"Thanks," I said, taking his hand and standing up.
"No problem," He smiled, and I felt my heart flutter.
"I'm Peter. Peter Pevensie," He held out his hand again.
"I'm Tori Rusk," We shook. I noticed he was holding a laugh back.
"What's so funny?" I asked, and he burst out laughing.
"I'm sorry, but your accent, it's hilarious!"
I frowned, "Your accent's funny too, but you don't see me laughing about it."
"But we're in England! You're supposed to speak this way!"
"But in America, where I'm from, you're supposed to speak this way!"
A new emotion crossed Peter's face, "I'm sorry."
"It's alright."
Peter's eyes fell on my sketchbook, then he picked it up.
"A sketchbook?" As he started to flip open the pages, I gasped and snatched it away.
"What the-"
"I'm sorry. There are some things in this sketchbook," I looked at the ground, "that I don't want anyone to see." I glanced at the time.
"Oh no! I'm late!" I ran passed Peter, "Nice meeting you! Hope to see you again!" I waved, and he waved back.