Chapter two! Do enjoy and please review :}

~Two~

Six o'clock in the morning and I was wedged between two complete strangers and on a flight to the Leonardo Da Vinci airport in Rome, Italy. I had really wanted to take this trip—it would be such an educational experience and it would really strengthen my knowledge of Roman history. You have no idea how difficult it was to convince my ma and dad to let me go on this tour. They didn't even care with the fact that I was going to be going with two of the fine arts college classes in Queens College and NYU and that it was only for a week. But in the end, my dad caved in, and my mom followed.

Yet now, even after working so hard to convince my protective parents to allow me, I really missed home. That was saying something, because my home for the past three years has been an eerie house in Queens, New York, right across from a rusty shopping centre. The summers were scalding, the winters were freezing, but it was home, nonetheless. And I missed it. A lot.

I sighed at the album in my lap and leafed through the pages. My eyes glided over old family pictures: me as a boyish baby in overalls being suspended by my father in front of a cake. A three-year-old-me crying because ten year old cousin snatched my doll. A seven year old me in front of a brand new apartment building in Newark, New Jersey. That picture was taken shortly after my ma and dad divorced.

The pictures got more emotional with every page turn. Me with my short bob-cut hair as straight as silk, smiling in my overalls to show off my dorky braces. Next to me was a boy, a little taller, parked on his bike. I let out another sigh and touched the photo gingerly. That was Daniel LaRusso.

I can't tell you what I felt when he left, but I was so shattered that I couldn't even go down into the lobby to tell him goodbye. I fell into a period in which I called my life depression, and my mom took note at how sad I was. She thought it was because I missed my father—and so, a year after he'd moved, Ma and Dad got back together. I guess you could say my life was complete again. But although I slowly recovered from the loss of the person I missed the most, the scars still remained on my heart, fading slightly but not completely.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the aircraft is preparing to land in fifteen minutes. Please take your seat and buckle your seatbelts. We hope your stay with us has been enjoyable and we hope to see you with us again."

Finally. Seven hours is a hell of a trip. I tucked away my album in my handbag, buckled my seat belt and then carefully pushed the head of the woman beside me off of my shoulder. Lorraine Martin, you're in Italy! With that thought, I pushed aside my old wounds and waited for the plane to land.

It took an hour to hustle all sixty of the students out of the plane and then check them through immigration and all that fun stuff. The airport was filled with Italian chatter, and I could pick up a few words, but that's only thanks to my dad. He's French and he taught me most of the language, and French and Italian are slightly similar.

As we shuffled through the confusing airport, I had stayed close to my friend, Ramona, so that I wouldn't get lost. She was real familiar with traveling independently. Then again, it was expected she would be, because she was thirty-two years old, married, and two months pregnant. College is such a diverse place—so many races and ages of people. Though I don't think you can get any more diverse than curly-haired, brunette, Ramona. She was really mature and friendly, and the two of us got along well. The only downside was that she was always looking for a boyfriend for me. The truth is, I'd never had a boyfriend, and I never wanted to, because boys were so complicated. But Ramona never stopped bugging me about it. Even when I told her that I'd learned my lesson from Daniel, she still persisted. And the fact that she was pregnant made her only more stubborn.

"Oh, come on, forget Daniel," Ramona said sagely as we were in baggage claim. For the past ten minutes, she had been trying to convince me to look at the Italian boys, and the Daniel excuse was starting to fade. "Look, we're in Italy. There are probably loads of other Italian boys here. He was Italian, right?"

"Yeah," I said, keeping my eyes out for the suitcase with the curly red ribbon on the handle. My suitcase was supposed to be somewhere near Ramona's, but she had already gotten hers, and mine was kind of missing momentarily. "But how many times do I have to tell you? I don't want to be in a relationship."

"Why not?" Ramona said, raising her eyebrows so that her blue eyes widened. "You're twenty—"

"Nineteen," I corrected, catching sight of my suitcase.

"—and available—"

"School-indulged," I corrected again, gripping onto the handle and yanking the suitcase with all my might.

"—and attractive—"

"As if," I snorted. The suitcase wouldn't budge.

"Will you please just let me finish?" Ramona interjected impatiently. As soon as she said it, the suitcase flung of the carousel and swung sideways, sending me to the floor. Ramona laughed and held out a hand and I took it, got up, and stretched. "Alright, go on."

"What I meant to say was, what if I show you someone really cute? Will you give them a shot?"

She looked so eager that even her freckles were twinkling. I couldn't help but smile. "Fine. But only"—I raised a finger before she could attack me in a hug—"if they look like they have sense." I was actually lying—I still didn't want a boyfriend. But I only agreed to give Ramona some joy. After all, she deserved it.

"That's my New Yorker!" She slapped my back. "Alright, let's see…what about the cutie in the red?"

Ramona jabbed a thumb to her left and I glanced quickly before sticking out my tongue in disgust. "He's so buff, he looks like the Hulk."

"Okay, what about…" She tapped her chin, and then suddenly, her face lit up. "What about that skinny one in the corner?"

I followed her gaze. "Gag me with a spoon! He's got a goatee!"

"Picky, aren't you? My husband grew a goatee and it looked great on him—"

"That's your husband," I reminded her. She sighed and leaned on her suitcase as Mr. Brunel hollered if all the students had their suitcases.

"Okay, okay." Ramona let out another sigh and her eyes darted left to right. Then, she grabbed my shoulders suddenly and spun me around to look across the carousel, her chin on my shoulder. "Okay, look straight ahead. In the blue and white shirt. Aviator shades on. How about him, hmm?"

I studied the guy. He looked decent, and he was helping an old woman grab her suitcases from the carousel. So polite. I shrugged and lied, "He's okay."

I looked at his shirt, and I could make out a round sticker that read "NYU" on it. So he was a New Yorker. That's a plus. And those broad shoulders? Mmm.

"He's hot, hmm?" Ramona whispered in my ear. I could already picture her wiggling her eyebrows up and down.

"Sure, sure." Oh yes, he is.

And then suddenly, the guy smiled at the old woman, who waved him farewell and pushed her cart of suitcases along, and he took of his sunshades. I immediately frowned and my heart began beating up a storm that swam through my veins and tingled my entire body with excitement, fear, and confusion. I quickly clutched the left side of my chest.

"What's wrong?" Ramona asked hastily, spinning me back around to face her. "Does your boob hurt?"

"Wha—no!" I said. It was a ridiculous to ask, considering I wasn't even touching my boob. I turned back sideways and looked at the boy carefully. It couldn't be. It can't be. It is!

"What's wrong, Rainey!" Ramona asked, now alarmed and impatient. "Tell me!"

"That's—he's—!" I was suddenly finding it harder to breathe.

Ramona violently shook me. "Spit it out!"

I turned back to face her panic-stricken face. If she looked that alarmed, I could only imagine how the shock was painted on my face.

"That's Daniel LaRusso!"