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[Disclaimer:I only own Delia and her family and any other random character I throw in here. And I'm completely making up Delia's first line out of no where... I love England, love Britain, don't take offense please. Oh, and DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVEN'T READ BODY LANGUAGE. This story will make absolutely no sense if you don't.]

"Craig, I HATE it here. I miss you and Ellie and Ash and Emma. Stupid Brits with their stupid Burberry jackets. Get me out of here!"

"Delia, you're overreacting."

"Craig, puh-leeze. Only one person's talked to me all year. Otherwise they talk about me behind my back and whisper about my hair and my accent and GAH! Shoot me now please."

"Deliaaaa."

"Oh shite." I whisper as the person behind me sighs and taps my shoulder.

"Shite?"

"Never mind. I'm taking up too much time... I'll call you tomorrow. Love."

"Love."

I hang up the phone and run back to my dorm room. My roommate, Natalie, is okay, but she is exactly like Manny and Paige mixed together- whorey with the annoying voice. It's September 18th, a week after I'd gone to Toronto for Amanda's birth. I stayed three days and then left. I spent about two hours with my friends and that was depressing enough.

"Delia! Oh, Delia!" I heard Natalie and her best friend, Caroline calling my name.

"Yea?"

"We heard you talking about how you want to go back to... wherever it was you lived."

"You evesdropped on my conversation?"

"We were in the booth next to you, talking to Alex!" Alex is Caroline's 'boyfriend' who was a the boarding school down the street, Marolin.

I scoff and say, "So, what's your question."

"Why didn't you tell us you hated it here?" Natalie asked.

"You never talk to me. Why do you care so much now?"

"You're the one who doesn't talk to us, so we don't talk to you."

I roll over on my bed. "You never made a point to talk to me, for fuck's sake!"

"No need to swear. Anyway, we want to be your friend. We really do."

"Sure. Fine. Whatever."

"Americans." Natalie says, shaking her head.

"Delia... can I talk to you?" Ana, our prefect and housemother says, standing in our doorway. I get up and go into the hallway with her.

She hands me the phone and says in a serious tone, "It's your brother-in-law."

"Marcus?"

"Delia, There's been an accident."