"That would be all," Mrs Richards spoke, "Class dismissed."
George heard the ringing of school bells, causing Mrs Richards to conclude today's curriculum review. Taking the cue to leave, George and his classmates got up, took their backpacks, and left the class - leaving behind a hubbub of shouts and laughter. George was all too absorbed in the atmosphere; memories of being brought up in England, growing up in the countryside, and new friends and families were starting to set in.
"George!"
A boy called to him. "Fancy a kickabout after school?"
George instantly recognized him as Oliver, his best friend. Unlike most his people his age, Oliver was more on the short side; a couple of inches shorter; he sported a red hair that was styled into a buzz cut, a smattering of freckles painted his fair complexion, contrasting a pair of bright green eyes.
He lived just a few steps away from home, so the two had practically grown up together. Being an only child, George saw him as the brother he never had. "You know I'm always well up for that!", George replied.
Right as they were about to leave, another boy approached them. "Hey!" He called, "Count me in..."
And that, as George remembered, was none other than Harry. He was in Grade 3, and as such, stood taller than both boys, not that either of them were intimidated; he was something of a gentle giant, not bright, but someone who stood up for them when the older kids tried to picking on the two. He had an unkempt mop of raven hair and dull brown eyes.
The three agreed on when and where they'd hang out next, with George tailing behind until he remembered something that lingered in the back of his mind: why did he remember something about changing into different clothes and turning into other people? He had vague recollections of being referred to as a grown-up named "Jerry" and an older kid named "Roger", but nothing else that made sense of it all. That's when he had an idea to try on one of his friends' uniforms to test it out - that might help.