Exchanged

Chapter 1 - Flight C14

Airports are big. And loud. And terrifying. And Will hated them.

And yet, here he sat (or rather, slumped) beside his mother and siblings, waiting. Waiting for someone.

"Did the school even give you any information about him?" He asked his mother. He was obviously his mother's son, with the same golden-blond hair, bright blue eyes, round face, and an attitude that bit like a rabid dog. "How're we meant to live with him if we don't even know anything about him?"

The woman's mouth twitched. "Course they did, Will. They gave me an entire pamphlet."

"Really?" Will looked up at her.

"No. Don't ask stupid questions. But yeah, I know a little about him. The superintendent of y'all's college gave me a little bit of a background before I said we'd take him."

"...So?" He gestured widely. "What's he like?"

She didn't answer him. He sighed and sunk back down. He glanced at a group of girls that passed him, whispering and pointing at him. He rolled his eyes and stared at the airport TV screen instead. He was used to that treatment— being the son of a famous country star and a rich man didn't offer any protection from the public eye.

"Hey Will," Kayla jabbed his side. "Hey. Hey. Hey."

He snapped around to look at his sister. "What do you want, asshat?"

"Do you think the kid likes spaghetti? He is Italian, after all."

"'Kid'? He's older than you. And don't ask him, he probably won't like it."

"Why? He's Italian."

Will sighed and ignored her. Austin, his little brother, was completely zoned out, earbuds plugged in, on the other side of Kayla. Will clutched the edge of his sweatshirt in his hands and started worrying at it.

"Now landing: Flight C14. Please proceed to the gate." The polite voice on the speaker said. Will wanted to rip it right off the wall.

"C14? That's the flight he's on," his mother said. "Come on. Let's go."

— — —

Will didn't know what he was expecting.

Someone tall? Muscular, maybe? No. When his mother locked eyes with a person who looked like a walking skeleton, Will knew what was happening.

"Oh. That's him, isn't it?" He asked.

"Hey, hello! Howdy, my name's Naomi," his mother said, approaching the kid quickly. Her children followed behind her, struggling to keep up. The boy's grip tightened on his suitcase and bags, glancing around uncomfortably. He then gestured a thumb at himself— asking Naomi if she was talking to him.

"Yes, you. You're Nicholas, right?"

The next surprise: the boy's voice. Was Will expecting a tiny little squeak? Or maybe a surprisingly deep voice? Instead he was greeted with a fairly mid-level and eerily calm voice, only mixed with light traces of his Italian accent. "Nico, please, miss. My father is the only one who calls me Nicholas. You call me Nico."

Naomi smiled. Will watched on, worrying at his sweatshirt again. "Well, hello there, Nico. We'll be taking care of you for the next year or so, how does that sound?"

"I don't think I get a choice."

Me neither, Will thought bitterly. He heaved a sigh, turned on his public flashy smile, and approached the new guy.

"Hey there. Will Solace. Nice meeting you." He stuck out his hand. Nico stared at it as if Will was offering him a colorful frog. Will tried not to lose his temper. "You're meant to shake it."

"I know. I don't want to."

They both glared at each other.

"Well then." His mother grabbed Will by the wrist, squeezing it like she did when he was younger and he misbehaved. It meant she was going to deal with him later, when the public isn't watching. Will snatched his hand away from her. She shot a warning glance at him. "Behind him are Kayla and Austin. They're his siblings, and they'll be helping out around the house."

Austin blinked at Nico. "Do you like spaghetti?"

Will covered his face with a hand. Of course Austin would ask. He wouldn't put it past any average middle school boy.

"Ah. Yes?" Nico said, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Only the homemade kind."

"Cool." Austin put his earbuds back in. Kayla pushed him aside.

"Sorry about him. He's annoying. I'm not," she said, beaming.

"You're sure?" Nico asked, recoiling ever so slightly.

"Positive."

Naomi sighed. "Sorry for them. It's like they don't have any manners. We'll have more time to talk on the limo ride home," she said.

"Limo?" Nico asked. Apparently, he did have a thicker accent than Will thought. Only when pronouncing the soft 'i' sound. He rolled his eyes. "As in, limousine?"

"My mom insists it's better for us to take than driving us. She's real careful like that," Will said as Kayla and Austin helped Naomi with Nico's baggage. All that remained on his person was a small little black backpack. Nico glared at him.

"Thank you, Will." His voice was curt and polite, but cold. Oh, and of course, he didn't say Will. It sounded like Wheel. It made him clench his fists and shove them in his sweater pocket. "I wasn't aware I'd be having such a fancy welcome."

"Yeah, well. When you have the money to blow on something, you might as well."

"You are a wealthy family?" The shorter boy asked, clutching the backpack.

"Yeah, I guess. Mom's a country singer, dad was just rich and famous."

"Ah."

With that, he hurried away from where Will stood and caught up with Naomi.