Orange Juice (Lawrusso)

Part 1 - The Move.

Daniel fills sick. Not like a cold or flu or something but like he's going to throw up. Right here as he waits and watches the bag carousel spin round and round. His bags one of the last, he can see it coming, black with blue handles.

He goes to grab it, still trying to push down that feeling that he's going to throw up, but someone else goes to grab it too. "Hey. This is mine" Daniel has his hand on one handle, a boy has his hand on the other. He's blonde, striking blue eyes, and a body that Daniel can tell is well maintained even through his sweater and sweatpants.

The boy looks him up and down, probably still taking in his Italian accent, then glances back down at Daniel's bag "This is mine" he replies, sounding annoyed. Daniel looks at the bag and sees a tag, he reaches for it and flips it over 'Johnny Lawrence'. Shit, that's definitely not his name and so definitely not his bag.

"Sorry" Daniel drops the handle and the boy, Johnny, takes it in his hand and throws the bag over his shoulder. He gives Daniel one last annoyed look before walking off. What a dick. Daniel hopes not everyone here is like that.

Finally after another few minutes of watching the same bags go by his turns up and this time when he goes to grab the handle he's the only one. The family he's staying with are supposed to be standing with a sign with his name on and he's supposed to find them but to be completely honest Daniel would rather have just stayed in a hotel.

Except that's not possible because his ma wants him to have the full experience. 'This isn't punishment' or something, 'she isn't angry she's just disappointed'. Daniel has to stop himself from rolling his eyes. He knows his ma is just doing her best but why America? of all places she could of sent him.

"Daniel?" someone grabs his shoulder and he whips around so fast he almost hits the man with his bag. He's white and old. That's Daniel's first thought. But he seems nice. Like a nice old maybe? "Hi?" Daniel replies.

"I'm Mr Brown, but you can just call me John and this," He turns to the woman next to him "is my wife, Emma." He looks around again, for what Daniel has no idea, then sighs "And my son should be around here somewhere, his names Bobby"

Bobby. Daniel doesn't like the name so much. It sounds like a nickname not an actual name. A boy around Daniel's age finally comes bounding over and, with a grin on his face, extends a hand to Daniel "Bonjour"

Daniel frowns "That's french. I'm Italian". This doesn't seem to faze Bobby in the slightest and his hand stays hovering between them until Daniel finally shakes it. "It's all the same isn't it?" he asks and before Daniel can make a rude comment he continues "Italys the pizza one, isn't it?"

"Sure" Daniel replies through his teeth, because that's not even the first time he's been asked that in the last 24 hours. Pizza and pasta. That's what his country is know for. "That's cool. I've never been outside of America before" Bobby keeps talking and talking as they make their way to the parking lot.

Daniel wants to tell him to be quiet but doesn't want these people to kick him out of their house before they even leave the airport. He wants to make his Ma happy and maybe if he's extra good here she'll come get him early. At least that's what he's telling himself so he doesn't just punch someone.

The ride to Bobby's house is short, maybe around 15 minutes, and their house is... to say the least, massive. Big marble pillars, a front and back garden, 2 floors, so many windows and the inside is even better. Maybe living here won't be so bad?

"I'll show you to your room. You must be exhausted, honey" Mrs Brown, Emma, puts a delicate hand on his shoulder. If he closes his eyes he could almost imagine being back home in Italy, almost. "Okay, that would be nice. Thank you" Daniel replies.