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I cannot believe I'm stuck in Mandingo. This was not how Sora had envisioned spending her senior year of high school. Sora had lived her whole life up to this point in Japan. When her father was dispatched to the United States in order to increase his company's market base, she was optimistic that it would be bearable living in Los Angeles or New York, world class cities with diverse populations. Instead, he was sent to Mandingo, American Midwest, in order to be near the geographic center of the United States. It was an affluent but small city, at least compared to her beloved Tokyo, Sora noted. Sora never wanted to leave Tokyo. She had a great life in Tokyo, with tons of girlfriends and the most popular boy in her district, Shigeru, wrapped around her finger. She really was the queen bee at her previous school, a role which she relished. Now she had to live in this shitty little hick town, in a foreign country and with a foreign language. There probably aren't even any Asians here, she lamented.

Sora knew that she had to stop her depressing thoughts. It was the first day of school, and she had to finish getting ready. She looked over herself in the mirror. She was 5'2 with light honey brown skin with a tinge of yellow. She admired her perfectly straight hair, jet black and falling down to her lower back. Her hair had been the envy of every girl in her old school. Even her bangs, currently cut straight across her forehead like many Japanese girls, were immaculate. As she was accustomed to attending private school, Sora wore a checkered red and navy skirt that ended a few inches above her knees. Sora examined her ...

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