Elizabeth listened to him talk about his home and family. She nodded along, looking a little confused at the last word. After a few seconds of thinking, she finally understood. "Oh, car-pen-ter." She sounded out the word. She figured she'd help him learn a little English while he was here. Americans can be pretty xenophobic, and being unable to speak English would make a foreigner's life much more difficult. Elizabeth and Jay then came to the Fine Arts room. "This is where your dance classes will be. The teacher for this class is Mr. Holtshnieder. He also does Drama, Speech, and Debate. I'm in Drama." Elizabeth froze.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Am I talking too much about myself? Stop it Elizabeth, just stop it!</span><br/><br/>"Uh... let's move on." She kept walking. It suddenly dawned on her that he had talked about his life but she hadn't talked about hers. She didn't want to tell him a lot though... but he would be living there. "My mom-- well... my foster mom... works as a bartender at a night club in LA. My foster dad... he..." Elizabeth stumbled over her words. "He's a construction worker."