I don't want to go to school. I thought he was supposed to be making up for not letting me come, not punishing me for complaining. I lean my head back as I sit in the front office. I'm waiting for the office lady to come back. She said she just had to step our for a moment; I think she's in the bathroom. Though, with how long she's taking, I'm thinking she might be avoiding me or something. Because seriously, it's been, like three whole minutes! I calm myself, reminding my brain what Leo said, "Patience is a virtue." I start tapping my leg and the first thought that comes to mind is, 'Raph is a bad influence on me.'

I groan loudly and swing my legs. Master Splinter told me I couldn't wear my mask to school. I don't like being without it, so I compromised. I've got silver eye shadow that forms a thin line under my eye, and above - covers everything from my eyelashes to my eyebrow. Don't worry, though, it still looks tasteful. The rest of my uniform is the same, but Mikey said I'd make friends easier if I didn't have my hood up, so I took it down. My brown, waist long, braided hair falls over my right shoulder; it's hard to miss.

I liked being home schooled. I sped through the classes and gym class was fun because it was ninjitsu training. I got to eat Mikey's cooking for lunch and Donnie is always a few feet away to help when I have questions. It's just not fair! How come the guys don't have to go to school? Oh…wait…

I groan again just as the office lady walks back out from wherever she'd been, "Oh! Hello?"

"Hi," I quickly stand, making my way to the desk. I grab the backpack Donnie made for me.* It's probably the only cool thing about all of this. He got a man-hole cover and thinned it down so it wouldn't be heavy. He also molded and shaped it so it would be in a backpack shape, adding zippers and such. Plus, the fabric he used is green. That, added with the sewer cap design, reminds me of home.

* If you've seen the ever popular TMNT shell backpack, imagine it as the same concept, but a manhole cover instead of a turtle shell. And metal instead of a plastic-y fabric.

"My name is Hamato Alexandria. I'm a new student. My bro-father filled out the paperwork?" Honestly, Master Splinter had no idea what he was doing and had Donnie take care of it. As well as setting me up with a social security number, fake home address, and fake background history. Though, the fake history is the real history since what he said is that Hamato Yoshi is my adoptive father who previously lived in Japan before moving here to New York fifteen years ago. Also that I have quadruplet, adopted brothers who were named after renaissance artists, but that's for another time.

"Oh, yes, I was told you would be coming in," she smiles behind a pair of large green glasses, "I have your schedule and locker combination right here." She hands them to me just as a loud bell rings out. I jump, my hands going for where my kama should be, but find empty space. Stupid schools and stupid rules about weapons. She smiles, standing back up, "Well I have to go. That was the first bell. You have five minutes to find the class and get settled or you'll most likely get detention. Good luck." I watch, mouth hanging open, as the woman walks away, leaving me alone and clueless.

I take a deep breath, finding my inner peace. Looking at the schedule, I know I need room 104 with Mrs. Peters for English. I walk into the hall and rush to the first room I see. However, seeing as how room 203 is next to 147, I shake my head, "The sewers are easier to navigate than this place."

Calmly, I walk out and quicken my pace as I look at try to figure out the classroom patterns. I turn down three different halls that look exactly the same as the last and completely forgot all sense of direction. Leo specifically told me to take in my surroundings and make mental notes of where things are. The second bell rings out and I lose all hope as I stand outside room 304 after just passing 052. I'm about to punch a locker in defeat before realizing that if I give up trying to find a classroom, then maybe Leo is right; maybe I'm not ready to face a bad guy. I'm sure they'll be a lot tougher to figure out.

I ask myself, "What would Donnie do?" I look at the classroom numbers and realize that they don't match each other. They have different lettering patterns. I take a closer look, reading the fine print underneath; what I'd thought were the room numbers were actually the rating they got in some door decorating contest. I sigh and look around for a new number. The one that said 126 on the slip of paper, says room 105 above the door in faded black marker. Looking left, I find room 103. I growl angrily like the world is trying to make me miserable. That's when I realize that this entire side has odd numbers. I turn around to find room 104 and feel utterly stupid.

I smack my head and walk up to the open door, almost panting from running around. I tap twice, seeing as the class has already started. Completely dizzy, I place my hands together and bow, "Osoku natte gomen'nasai. Kono fujin wa pītā no o heyadesu ka?" (遅くなってごめんなさい。この夫人はピーターのお部屋ですか? : I'm sorry for being late. Is this Mrs. Peter's room?)

When I receive no response, I look up to see I'm being met with blank stares. The teacher - a woman - comes closer to me asking, "I'm sorry. Could you say that again? Maybe in English?"

I blush, realizing what I've done. I tend to slip into Japanese when I'm nervous, "Sorry I'm late. Is this Mrs. Peter's room?"

The woman nods, "Yes, I'm Mrs. Peter. You must be the new student I've heard about. It's nice to meet you. Please, come inside."

"Hai Sensei," I bow again, fast, and follow her in as she closes the door behind me. I'm expecting her to tell me where to sit and I'll be done with the humiliation. Instead, she announces, "Class, this is Alexandria Hamato-"

Because I'm completely stupid, I correct her, "Hamato Alexandria. It's Japanese."

"Yes, well, we're in America," she smiles politely, "Next time, I'd also prefer that you leave your…backpack in your locker and that you get to class on time-"

"Is she foreign exchange?" someone shouts out. Mrs. Peter raises an eyebrow, not knowing the answer herself.

I shake my head, "No, I've lived in New York my whole life," I add, thinking it'll help my case, "But I've also always been home schooled." As though this explains my behavior perfectly, the boy - along with a few other students - nod their heads in understanding.

"Well, Alexandria…is there something else we can call you?" she asks.

I nod, "My brothers call me Lexi or Lex. Whichever you feel like, I guess."

She nods, "Alright. Would you like to tell us a little about yourself?"

I shrug, "Not much to tell."

She smiles as though this is what she wanted to hear, "Alright. Why don't you take a seat? There's one right over there next to Erma and April." I smile. Finding and protecting April O'Neil has been my mission since I got here. Now if I could just figure out which girl is April…