Simon frowned up at the foreboding looking building. It was made entirely out of light tan brick and grey mortar roofing. Steeples littered the tops of the building at regular interludes and there were long arched windows filled with gleaming glass. The crisp London wind bit at Simon's skin and he tugged at his red knit scarf once again. Said scarf still smelt faintly of his mother's vanilla scented perfume, she seemed to spray everywhere. He wouldn't have been overly surprised if his mother sprayed the perfume on the scarf directly. "Thoughts of home can keep you just as warm as a scarf," Simon's mother had commented when giving him the scarf as a parting gift at the airport. Now standing there at the entrance to Axton University, he was starting to second guess his decision to move over five thousand miles to attend a University in England.

Simon Snow's college selection story was a little more complicated than most. Heck, his entire life story had been pretty darn complicated. He was put up for adoption when he was just a baby. Luckily for him, he had been adopted by the time he was two by a lovely woman by the name of Martha Snow. It had been a closed adoption, with one stipulation. On his eighteenth birthday he was to be given a letter from his birth mother. A letter, that Simon himself didn't even know about until his eighteenth birthday. He had grown up knowing he was adopted and he always longed to know why he had been given up. Of course he knew he was lucky to have Martha, he always thought of her as his mother. Yet, to know that out there were two people that were blood related to him that didn't want him, it had been hard. Simon wondered who his parents were, what were they like, and where were they now. Most importantly, if they met him today would they want him?

He often had asked his mother about his birth family when he was a young child. One day he had asked her "why did my real mommy and daddy leave me with a stranger?" His Mother had hugged Simon firmly and whispered she didn't know, but he had a home now. Half an hour later Simon overheard her crying softly in the living room, she had been praying for the knowledge to console his yearning heart. He stopped asking about his birth parents after that.

Then low and behold on his eighteenth birthday his social worker called Simon in for a meeting. She explained to them that while it had been a closed adoption, the birth mother had made one request. "I don't usually do things like this, but she seemed so emphatic about it I relented," Mrs. Jones said pulling out a small envelope from her suit jacket. Mrs. Jones was telling the truth, in all the eighteen years of knowing the woman; Simon had never seen her break a professional role. However, there she sat looking at him with misty eyes, probably the eyes of a mother herself, as he took the letter from her. He opened it and read it carefully.

My dearest Son,

First of all, Happy Birthday. I can only hope you have turned into the man I dreamed you would be, the one I pray for every night. I am sure you have questions and I am here to finally answer them. You must know I love you so very much and if I had any other choice I would not give you up for adoption. I want you to know a little about yourself and I hope you gain that from this letter. Originally I am from England and I had come to California after High School. I have friends down here and they treat me well. Your father and I broke up before I knew I was blessed with a child. His name is David and I am positive that in his own way he would have loved you. However David has changed since I first met him and I do not believe he could give you the proper home you deserve. For this reason your father does not know about you and for that I am both glad and sorrowful. I hoped to provide you with the home you deserve, however fate has dealt a cruel hand. My time on this earth is quickly running out. I have no family here and my own doesn't know how to properly raise a child. This is why I have decided to give you up for adoption, to give you a chance on a real home and a happy life. My blessings are with you always and I will watch over you from heaven. Always remember you are my miracle, my rosebud boy. I love you.

Forever and always, Lucy S.

Just like that so many questions had been answered, and so many had been created. Simon would never get to meet his mother because she was dead. All his daydreams about a family reunion were crushed. He didn't know what to think about his father… David. What kind of man was he? And what had he done to convince Lucy that he was unfit to be a father. For the next several weeks he mourned for the loss of the mother he had never truly known. Within him a new longing opened up. He wanted to know about his family and where he came from. Simon hadn't even known that his parents were from England. These feelings had come right as he was considering colleges. He decided to study abroad in England. After talking to his counselor, he was able to snag a spot in a study abroad program. Simon was no genius, but he had a pretty good head for school. Not to mention his mother had gotten on him about studying nightly.

Now he stood there in front of a London University. Simon had never even beam outside of California until now. He really hoped that this all hadn't been a mistake. To be honest he wasn't quite sure what he was hoping to accomplish by coming here. He had no idea where in England his family lived or what would happen if he knew. He doubted that he would go searching for them if he did. What if he was the bastard son of some long gone royalty? Simon shook his head to clear it of the ludicrous thoughts. He had chosen London because it was one of England's biggest cities. A city where being American would feel less awkward and the city itself felt overall inviting to a young man trying to find himself. Besides, wasn't that what college was all about?

Simon looked down at his worn jeans and button up collared shirt; at least he would be comfortable. Thanks to the black pee coat and other winter accessories he would also be plenty warm. Taking a fortifying breath, he ran a hand through his flop of bronze curls, and stepped through the gate of Axton University. He dragged a large rolling suitcase behind him which had almost all of his clothes in it. Everything else of importance they had sent through the post.

There were students strewn across benches on the front lawn and others talking while walking around. The term didn't start for another three days, so there were a minimal number of students roaming the campus. His best guess was that they were probably all catching up with their friends. Simon wished he had friends to meet up with. He felt incredibly alone in this foreign environment. He fumbled for the map in his pocket, his fingers barely able to grasp the folded paper due to the gloves. He never had to wear gloves in California and it would take some time to get used to. Simon studied the map trying to commit it to memory.

The campus was broken up into nine buildings. The two smallest were the two dorm buildings. There was the Hinshire building that held the school store, the common area, infirmary, cafeteria, and even a cafe. The Library and student center shared a building right beside the Hinshire building. The other five buildings were for classrooms and were identified by capital letters. The layout of the campus was simple enough that it wasn't to intimidating. This had been a large part of why Simon had chosen this university.

If the information on the school's site was correct he needed to go to the Student center. He assumed that the Hinshire building was the one visible from the entrance. Simon began to walk forward, still glancing down at the map and careened right into someone else.

"Oof!" Simon collided into a well-toned body and was knocked back on his bottom. The map flew out of his hand and a stinging pain ran through over his palms as they hit the cement as well. The fall ricocheted through his entire body and it took him a minute before he could choke out, "Uh s-sorry… I didn't see you there."

This was met with an indignant and very mocking laugh, "Bloody American idiot." Simon blanched at the way the boys cold voice spit out his nationality like it was poison in his tongue or maybe like it left a bad taste in his mouth. Either way he was clearly being belligerent. Simon swallowed hard and inwardly sighed. He was making such a great impression on his first day in a new country, what a brilliant start to his college career. As he looked up at the other boy, the sun momentarily blinded him and all he could see were startling grey eyes. At first he thought maybe it was a trick of the light, but no they really were the color of cool steel and at the moment they were glaring daggers at Simon.

"Like I said," Simon said nearly flinching at his obvious California accent, "I am sorry. I was trying to find the student center…" He trailed off. The boy in front of him didn't care in the slightest about his excuse. He studied the boy for a second. The stranger had longish black hair that was slicked back. It made his pale skin stand out even more, but somehow complimented his sharper facial features. He had a slight widow's peak and wore a starched blue sweater and black jeans. Somehow even in jeans, this guy managed to look immaculate. Simon would have bet his left arm that he was the son of some rich family. Maybe the black haired stranger was the long lost royalty that Simon imagined himself to be growing up. His entire meaner was well polished; he stood straight with his shoulders back. He was probably good at public speaking and dancing -two things that Simon avoided like the plague.

"Well next time look where you're going!" The boy hissed at him. Then, not sparing Simon a second glance, he strode away. Simon sat there on the cement in stunned silence for a few minutes. He didn't even want to think about what he looked like to the other students walking by. Probably just a stunned lost looking American who didn't belong here. That's how he felt, like he wanted to turn around and head home. He could just go to the community college, forget all about being British -or not British. The whole thing still confused him. As far as he knew his family all lived in England, but he had been born in California. Just another thing to make him feel like he didn't really belong anywhere.

Just as the negative thoughts were about to take him over completely another figure appeared in his field of vision. Simon looked up to see a girl with light brown skin and the fieriest hair he had ever seen smiling down at him.

"You look like you could use some help," she said sticking out a hand and helping him up. Within a minute Simon stood in front of this girl with his rolling suitcase in his left hand and the school map re-folded in his right. "What's your name?" She asked still smiling brightly at him.

"Uh… Simon," he said dumbly, then coming back to his senses he rushed to blurt out, "My name is Simon Snow. Thank you for helping me up."

Her brown eyes shone with warmth as she shrugged, "I have a lot of siblings so I know how to look out for others. Besides the ground can't be that comfortable." She laughed heartily, not at him though. She was trying to brush off the embarrassing situation for Simon's sake. "I'm Penelope Brunce, but you can call me Penny."

Simon smiled for the first time since boarding the plane here. He felt that he had just made a new friend. Maybe with people like Penelope -make that Penny around him, this wouldn't be such a lonely place. Maybe, Simon thought hopefully, he could find a place to belong.