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When my parents' jobs transferred to the town of Dempton, I, who am Sean Williams by the way, already knew that transferring schools would have to happen. However, Dempton High ended up having a few surprises in store for newcomers like me. You see, Dempton isn't inhabited by humans.

I had never even heard the word "anthromorph" before setting foot in my new school. It turned out that I missed the bus, and, since my parents were out at job training, I had to run to school. Thankfully, I live very close, a mere mile away. As soon as I burst through the doors into the vacant hallways, I dropped to a knee and fished my schedule out of my bag. 1620, Theatre Arts I, 1st period. Well, crap. That was on the other side of the school. I think one can imagine how this story ended.

"...which according to Stanislavski- ah, Mr. Williams, I suppose?" Obviously, the teacher was deciding to call me out as I rushed through the door. The sight of who I assumed was Ms. Cora, however, froze all my motion. I knew the people of Dempton were "different" ahead of time, but that still shocked me; I'd met my first anthromorph, a panther in this case. I think she got annoyed by my staring after a while, because she chastised me, "Close your mouth, Sean. Take a seat there, beside Ross."

The "seat" was a folding chair in the back of what seemed to be a former dance studio, and "Ross" was another anthromorph, this time a bear. A grizzly, by the looks of it. In truth, he scared me a little, though a part f that was because he gave me a stare behind which I couldn't quite identify the intent. It also crept me out a bit that he sniffed me a couple of times, but maybe, I reasoned at the time, it was just common behavior around there. After all, it seemed that I was the only human in the class and possibly in the school. "Um... can I help you?" I inquired with some apprehension in a whisper while being inspected by the bear's nose.

"I've never seen a human before," he stated flatly, still not revealing his thoughts on me and my being there. Really, at the very least, he could have told me how I smell! "You don't smell like I expected." Wait, does that count? Probably not, I think.

"Th-thank you?" Fortunately the panther teaching couldn't quite hear our little whisper exchange in the back of the room. "I can't say I've ever seen a... whatever you are either."

"What, you've never seen a grizzly bear before?" I wasn't sure, but I thought that was a joke. "Hey, you might want to be careful. We all heard the rumors, but others won't be happy to find out that there's actually a human in this school." Well, crap. That gave away that I was the only human in Dempton High. Figures. "And being a freshman probably doesn't help you."

"Where do you stand on a human here, then?" So far, I was hearing nothing but bad stuff, and it was beginning to scare me a bit.

"I'm not sure yet." What was that look Ross gave me then? Suspicion? Confusion? Curiosity? Whatever it was, I was getting more anxious by the second.

"What are you, uh - people? - called?" I immediately regretted asking that, almost sure that in some way, shape, or form I had screwed up.

"Anthromorphs," replied Ross. We didn't exchange another word throughout the class after that. On the plus side, I learned that Konstantin Stanislavski is the father of modern acting theory. That's something, right?

Unfortunately, similar things happened in pretty much every class. The husky in my world history class, Simon, for instance, isn't at all happy that I should desecrate a room with my presence. "Why you flinchin', boy? Got somethin' to hide?" He didn't seem to buy that humans naturally get a little put off when human-like animals stuff their noses everywhere those noses can reach. Is it to hard to understand that humans do not like to be sniffed? Anyway, throughout the period, he scoffed every time I asked a question and pushed my textbook off of my desk more than once. I claimed fault to the teacher about the latter, though; if what Ross had said was true, looking weak would not have been smart at that point.

As it ended up, not only are both Simon and Ross on my bus to go home (which, of course, was driven by an anthropomorphic otter), but they apparently had shared a seat before I transferred, and I had apparently taken it unwittingly. I was among the first to take a seat on bus 1227 somewhere between the front and middle of the bus. Nearly all if not every last anthromorph gave me a look that seemed to say, "What is that doing here?" The husky and the grizzly were among the last go get on, and obviously nobody had even wanted to sit in the same row as me. I don't think either was very happy to see me where I was.

Both Ross' and Simon's expression told me, "You better run, boy!" but in different tones. Simon's was a threat; Ross' seemed to be an anxious warning. I didn't move, though. I'd taken the crap of these beasts all day, and I was still in the have-to-appear-strong mentality. I guess one could call this my Rosa Parks moment. The two seemed to debate with each other nonverbally for a small while before the bruin conceded to share my seat while Simon took the one across the aisle, huffing, before the two engaged in their own conversation throughout the ride. I kept thinking, I don't belong here.

The ride felt extremely long, but that might have been because my house was the second to last stop. What really made it feel awkward was that the final stop, or so I assume since he was the only one on the bus with me, at the end of my ride, was Ross'. We didn't really talk, which was all fine by me; seeing his taste in friends, I was thinking this grizzly wasn't somebody I wanted to have anything to do with. However, he gave me a reason to question what was then my resolution that he hated my humanity: at my stop, he called "Hey!" I turned around. "See you tomorrow," Ross saw me off with. He didn't quite smile, though.

When asked about my first day at Dempton High, I told my parents, "It was interesting."

Regarding the following morning, the good news is that I made the bus. The more awkward news is that Ross did, too. I was neither looked at nor acknowledged when I sat in his seat again, but nor was I at all coerced to move either. I didn't know why, but his cold shoulder was hurting me more than all the hateful comments in the world. I wished he would at least look at me or even stop staring out the window once before later, when a leopardess anthromorph set foot on the yellow bus, who recoiled at the sight of me. "Ah, hell, no! I thought those were just rumors! What are you doing here, human?" I recognized her from my history class as well.

Without standing and without emotion, I replied, "I'm doing the same thing everybody else is doing: waiting for you to sit down so we can get to school." Everybody else was really just Ross, but it's what popped into my head.

"Uh-uh, not happening," the leopardess declared drawing back a paw. However, she was put off by a deep, guttural growl that didn't come from me and sure as heck didn't come from the otter driver's throat. Swinging my head to the other side, the bruin was still staring out the window, but I could see his rather intimidating teeth.

"So, you think you can just look at somebody and know all about them, Sher?" he spoke with a bitter fury in his words before waving his own clawed paw dismissively to the leopardess apparently known as Sher. With a hiss, she stormed towards the rear of the bus. Then we started moving again.

Ross was quiet again for minutes longer, but after that I felt the need to break the silence. "That came out of left field," I observed.

"Hmph," he pouted, still looking out the window, "Don't get the wrong idea. I'm still not sure about you. I've just got my own problems with prejudice." I tried to inquire more about what he meant by that, but I got the silent treatment again. Alright, then, have it your way!

In drama class, Ms. Cora said what I had been dreading since the previous day: "Divide into groups of five." Okay, so I didn't really care about the number five; it was the groups bit that I didn't want to hear. As one imagine, groups formed all around me very quickly, and none of them had me in it. Fortunately, the panther teacher seemed rather sympathetic towards me; instead of leaving me, she decided to humiliate me. "It looks like Sean here doesn't have a group. Are there any open slots in any groups?" she announced. The intent was good, but my fear was that nobody would claim me.

To my great and pleasant surprise, Ms. Cora didn't have to wait long for an answer. From a ways away, the class' tigress called, "Over here!" with seemingly no shame in her tone. I couldn't help but loose a sigh of relief before jogging in the general direction. "Did she say your name was Shane?" she inquired when the distance was gone.

"Sean," I corrected.

"Right, sorry! I'm Sasha, and that's Rusty-" a border collie, "Kirsten-" an alligator, "and Tristin," a raccoon.

"I don't have to remember those all now, do I? Names aren't my strong suit," I confessed. Tristin scoffed rather noticeably.

"Eh, don't mind him!" encouraged Sasha, "We're not all prejudicial bastards!" That drew a glare from Tristin to Sasha, but she seemed oblivious to it. "Me, I think it's kind of cool. Dempton High's first human! Uh, if you don't mind...?" She never did actually finish that sentence, but her meaning was clear to me. Actually, it drew a smile from me; she was the first who had actually asked permission.

"Go ahead," I allowed her, spreading my arms a bit. She leaned in and took a long whiff of me just below the chin. "Cut me a little slack, though," I joked, "I have a family history of excessive perspiration."

"Actually, it's not bad," she commented, "Not what I expected, but not bad."

"I keep hearing that. I'm 'not what you expected.' What is everybody expecting?"

"Um..." Sasha hesitated, "It's tough to explain if you don't have a strong sense of smell."

I shook my head, "Then don't bother. Even for a human, my sense of smell is rather weak."

"Are you all working over there?" demanded Ms. Cora, addressing us. Looking around, it seemed that all other groups had already started going over the scripts they were given and were rehearsing. "Uh... we are now!" Sasha lied. At the end of class, we were to perform our play for the class. Fortunately, the more experienced drama whizzes among our five actually managed to make our play look like something a little more than something a few fifth graders could have put together, although the script we were given may as well have been written like such.

Sasha's view on the situation had granted me a small ray of hope to me, no matter its minisculity, and that ended up managing to get me through the rest of the week. It seemed like only one of my four teachers had it out for me, and although that was really one too many, it was also three short of the maximum.

That tigress may have brightened my week, but that pretty much wore off by the end of Friday. I came home thinking that I had failed to really earn my place in that school and would never end up being respected. So, yeah, the rest of Friday afternoon and night was spent feeling rather dejected.

I didn't think my parents had to know the extent of the problem. Who could they bring the issue to anyway but the likely equally discriminatory school board? Besides, it was my uphill battle to fight, not theirs. It was my responsibility to deal with.

I was feeling better by Saturday, though it may have helped that I got to sit around all day and listen to metal music. It was an embarrassing habit of mine to dance around and lip synch before my mirror as if I was onstage while music blasted. Thankfully, nobody outside of my house actually had any idea of that. Before this particular Saturday, that is.

My father had to barge into my room, rather embarrassing me, and tell me "A friend from school is here for you. A tiger," because the music was too loud for me to hear the knock or his shouts from downstairs.

"A tiger? Sasha?" I asked. My dad shrugged. I ran to the door. "Sasha? What are you doing here? And how do you know where I live?"

"That was easy," she responded with a smirk, "I just had to ask around about where the humans live. Somebody's always willing to talk."

An eyebrow was raised on my face. "That's rather unsettling." "It should be," Sasha confirmed, "Particularly since I'm a master at getting people to talk. That's why I'm here: to make you talk."

"About...?" I asked, taking a step back.

"Oh, relax! It's for the school newspaper. I just want to interview real quick. Is that okay?"

To me, Sasha may as well have said, I just want to give you another chance to earn a place at school. Is that okay? "Yeah, sure! Come in."

"Thank you." She stepped inside. "Is there some place we could talk?"

"My room?" I offered.

The tigress shook her head. "Nope. I've got a strict personal policy of not going into boys' bedrooms." I nodded, and although there were multiple reasons why Sasha needn't have worried, I understood and took no offense.

"The kitchen, then?" She agreed to that, so we sat across from each other at the small wooden table.

"Let's get started!" she declared, placing a small recording device on the table and flipping it on. "So, you're Dempton High's first human student. How does that feel?"

I decided to answer as honestly as was possible. "It's a little nerve-wracking, really. I feel a little... out of place."

"You didn't even know anthromorphs existed before moving here, right?"

"Yeah. I hadn't even heard the word before finding out I was coming here. It's, uh," I paused to try and find the best words, "It's a little hard to get used to."

Sasha nodded. "Okay, then. How would you say your first week at our school went?"

"Uh," began the nervous response, "Not too well. It seems I haven't been well received." The tigress nodded again sympathetically. "What really sucks is that it isn't too different from my treatment at Sherwood."

"Your old school?"

"Yeah. At least there I-" I cut myself off, realizing how close I was to saying something stupid and how emotional I was becoming.

"Go on, Sean."

Too late, it seemed then, it was for me to keep my little secret a secret. And, no, I don't refer to the dancing secret. "At least I knew why people hated me there. I know this place hates humans, but I don't really get why."

"You were bullied at your old school, then?" Sasha inquired, leaning in, "What for?"

At that point it was time for the cat, the metaphorical one in this case, to be let out of the bag. "I was bullied for being gay." Sasha acknowledged that and suggested we change topics. We talked for a while more about how I spent my spare time, what music I like, and other incidental things about me. "Heh, yeah, I'm an avid gamer... Heck yeah, I love metal..." and things like that were among my responses to her many questions.

Sasha seemed elated when the interview was over. "Awesome!" she exclaimed as I showed her the door, "Look in the opinion section of the school paper on Monday. Hopefully, what people read will help you out a bit. See you at school, Sean!"