A/N: Updating this at a bit of an awkward time, but as you were all being so super-nice, here it is! Hope you enjoy ^_^

Dan is an American teenage boy living in San Diego who goes on an exchange field trip to England. But who’s his exchange student? Read on to find out more!

DISCLAIMER: Obviously (and unfortunately) everything I have written is entirely fictional. I am not claiming Phan is real.

I was awoken the next morning by the roaring engines of the plane, and the audible voice of the pilot speaking into the crackling speakers throughout the vehicle.

Contrary to the excited atmosphere surrounding me, I felt my stomach drop with despair as soon as I caught sight of the San Diego sun struggling through the clouds next to us. As the plane began to descend, I heavily sighed, wishing myself away. Back to Manchester.

I caught sight of the jungle of skyscrapers, silhouetted through the wisps of cloud we came hurtling through, approaching San Diego airport. I was home.

Almost immediately, I grabbed my hand, staring at Phil’s handwriting scribbled onto it, as I gently traced my finger over it, imagining the ghostly feeling of his skin against mine, the way we hugged before we departed, and the kiss…

I couldn’t think about that right now. Not while I was already feeling like utter shit.

“Wow, someone’s glad to be home!” Josh commented sarcastically as he caught sight of my expression. 

I sighed, not even bothering to join in with the joke. The humor faded from his face.

“Dan? Dan, are you okay?” He tilted his head, studying my expression.

“Yeah, fine. Just tired.” I mumbled. That was my excuse for anything, and everything these days. ‘I’m just tired’.

After a short moment of staring out the window wistfully, I felt a huge bash, jolting me forward as the plane made a bumpy landing on the runway. Once we had properly landed, the familiar surroundings and the daytime sun made this seem suddenly real. All too real, in fact.

I was half-hoping it would all be one big dream. That I would wake up the next morning cuddled up in Phil’s arms, without another care in the world. Now, I had too many cares in the world, most of which were increasing into worries.

“Right, aisle 1A, 1B, 1C and 1D, please unbelt and exit the plane. Your luggage will be waiting on the conveyor belt at the Arrivals. 

Reluctantly, I stood myself up, realizing how tired I actually was as I felt all the blood drain from my head, feeling very faint.

I paced along the giant hallway, hearing the excited conversations of the following clusters of people behind me although they sounded like nothing more than vacant echoing in my head, as I had a mind full of other problems right now. I didn’t bother walking with anyone. I didn’t want to. 80% of the time in general, I preferred being alone. Phil being the only exception.

I luckily found my luggage relatively quickly, so I could do nothing much more than grab it, and get the hell out of here. Before forgetting how ridiculously heavy it was.

Why did I have to pack so much?! I thought to myself, suddenly regretting my decision. I was never the strongest guy in the class, hell, I was far from it.

As I wheeled as fast as I could, out of the corner of my eye I noticed a small piece of paper flutter out of my loose shoulder bag which caught my attention as I swivelled round, picking it back up off the floor, noticing it was tightly folded

I unravelled it while walking, until it revealed a note composed with very familiar handwiting.

“Awrf. Hi Dan. I hope you read this.

“I hope this little note will somehow make you smile. I probably miss you already. I never stopped thinking about you.. I don’t even know what time it is in San Diego; assuming you’re reading this when you’re either home or at the airport. Anyway, don’t you forget about me! ^_^ Only joking. Look after yourself, and remember; only 5 days. I can’t wait to Skype you!”

But what really got straight through the heart, is what he wrote carefully, right at the very bottom of the page. Judging by his handwriting, it looked as if his hands were shaking.

“I love you.”

My breath caught in my throat, almost completely stopping in the airport as I traced over the handwriting again and again. We’d never actually said ‘those words’ yet, although I’d been wanting to for a ridiculously long time. The only reason that had been holding me back, is fear that he’d think it was too soon, or something. 

I needed to get home. I needed to Skype him; to see his beautiful face again, and hear his voice. If I wasn’t missing him enough already, that managed to make everything 10 times worse. I fucking missed him more than anything I had ever experienced. He already felt so far away.

Sighing deeply, I walked through the automatic doors and out of the airport without even saying goodbye to anyone, exposing myself to the heat of San Diego. Which I didn’t like.

I didn’t even want to be here. Like at all. I wanted the cold air of Manchester. It was the perfect cuddling excuse. God, that was cheesy. But it was true, I guess. 

The first thing I noticed, was the number of families collecting everyone who had been on the exchange. But, just as I had suspected, my family wasn’t there. Of course they weren’t. 

I had no other choice but to take the bus, despite my hate for public transport. They KNEW about the anxiety-related problems I had to deal with whenever taking the bus, or being in a vehicle full of strangers I didn’t know. If they actually cared enough about that, than they would surely have the decency to collect me after spending a week in a city halfway across the world. Apparently not.

I wished there was some way I could contact Phil now. I stared at my phone as I sat waiting at the bus stop frustratedly, wishing I wasn’t on an American service. I needed to talk to him. I just needed to.

I suddenly felt a pang in my stomach like an iron fist as I caught sight of the bus heading to our stop. As it slowed down, I couldn’t even bear to give the windows a second glance. It was all a mistake. I should’ve walked home, despite the fact it was about 20km away.

It was completely packed.

Sweating nervously, I grabbed all my bags in my now almost numb hands, and tried to make my way onto the bus without messing up, or dropping anything. I miraculously succeeded, but my only issue now, was where I could sit. There was a spare seat right at the very back, although that was next to an uncomfortable-looking man. An option I didn’t exactly want to take.

Turns out I didn’t even have a choice.

Steadying my breathing, I paced along the aisle, wanting to die with the amount of belongings I had to carry compared to anyone else, and sat myself at the back, as far away from the man as possible. As soon as I sat down, I shoved my headphones straight into my ears, making myself look as unapproachable as I possibly could.

After the hellish bus ride and a laborious walk, I finally made it to the driveway, of my house. My crappy house. I guess I was homesick, in reverse. If that was even a thing.

Gulping, I crunched along the gravel, until I had made it to the front door. I didn’t even think to bring a key, so I rang the doorbell hastily.

Within a few seconds, the door opened, and my brother answered. He raised his eyebrows as soon as he saw I was there, left the door open, and ambled off upstairs again. 

Well, he sure is glad to see me.

I carried everything in, slamming the door behind me as a gesture to show everyone I was actually here. 

“Dan, is that you?” My mom called from the kitchen.

“Nope.” I answered sarcastically. 

“Oh, well it’s nice to see you too! How was it?” 

“S’alright.” I shrugged, dropping my suitcase and throwing myself on the sofa.

She walked into the lounge, frowning at the bags I had left in the hall.

“Dan, go and unpack.”

I groaned loudly. “Can’t I do that later? I’m fucking exhausted!”

“Why do you have to be so lazy all the time?  

“Lazy?! I’ve just got back from a 8 hour flight, for fuck’s sake! What do you expect me to do; go around tidying the whole house for you?“ My temper flipped. “Can‘t you just let me do what I want? I‘m eighteen in 2 months!” I muttered.

“Dan…” Her expression hardened.

“Okay, okay, fine! I’ll do it now!” I snapped, hauling myself off the sofa and grabbing my bags, stomping up the stairs. I was tired, jetlagged, still slightly anxious, and fucking sick of everyone already. I just wanted Phil.

I slammed open my bedroom door, dropped my bags straight on the floor as I shut myself in. I jumped onto my bed, abandoning the idea of unpacking, as I grabbed the nearest pillow to me, and burst into tears.