AN: if you need to imagine their house, imagine something along the lines of the Cohen’s house in the OC

Chapter One: Moving…Again

What can you say about me? Well, I’m not a romantic. I hate romance novels, love stories, and movies with happy endings. I hate people who think they’ll get their love sorted out by the end of their life and end up happy, married, perfect kids, in a perfect home, with a perfect life. I hate my mom, who left me when I was four because she couldn’t handle the fact that she was a twenty-two year old mother who got knocked up in high school and married her “sweetheart”. I hate my dad, who after this, proceeded to become an alcoholic and continually pass out drunk on the couch of our dingy one floor, four-room apartment where I had to sleep all alone in a room that was more like a closet, while my dad stayed out late getting drunk and sleeping with women he barely knew. Then my father had to go get married to Gabrielle Smith, an annoying, blond model with fake boobs. And finally, he had to OD and die two days before my eighth birthday, leaving Gabrielle the owner of me. But she didn’t want me, so guess what? She left me at an orphanage, and that’s the last I saw of her.

And I hate the house that I had to be standing at that day for my fifth placement in a foster home, the social worker, Mrs. Blaine, right beside me, annoying me with details of my new family. All I really heard was that they were rich parents with two sons and a young daughter. By the looks of it, the mother was a perfect little wife, loyal to her husband, staying at home and taking care of the kids. The dad was probably a lawyer or CEO of some big company, and he raked in hundreds of bucks a week. The two sons were probably perfect boys, who respected women and had their hair slicked back every day, finished their homework on time, and always wore their perfect private school uniforms. And the daughter was probably a spoiled dumb princess who got whatever she wanted regardless of what she did. To top it off, their home was a Malibu beachside estate that was huge, and they had a pool out back (I presumed, because I could see the pool cover lying around the front yard) and a trampoline in the front. I was already dreading the moment I had to meet these people, and could feel a bit of a need to gag rising in my throat at the thought of living with such snobs.

“So, Ginny, please remember, don’t cause any problems with this family, okay? I’m talking about no violence, no fights, and no vandalism.”

“I can’t promise anything.”

Mrs. Blaine looked at me and her expression softened. “Ginny, they’re just trying to give you a chance. You’ll see that if you open up to them, they can love you.”

“I don’t want anyone to love. You’re the one making me go through this, remember?”

“I just want a better life for you, a life aside from the orphanage. I want you to have a real family.”

“I do have a real family.” I sighed. “I just don’t know where they are.”

Mrs. Blaine smiled apologetically at me. “Just don’t get in any trouble. Do it for me, okay kiddo?” She ruffled my hair. I grimaced.

“Fine, I’ll try. But like I said, no promises.”

“I can live with that.” She rang the doorbell.

A few seconds later, a tall, thin woman with sandy blond hair tied back in a ponytail answered the door. She looked perfect for a model, so I was amazed when she said, “Hi, I’m Mrs. Allen. You must be Ginny. And of course, Mrs. Blaine, we’ve talked over the phone. I met your fellow worker, Mr. James. Wonderful man, a bit inquisitive but he meant well I suppose. You can call me Trina, or Mom. I’m so glad they let us adopt you, Ginny.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Trina,” I said sarcastically, and Trina frowned slightly. I don’t know whether it was the sarcasm or the fact I didn’t call her Mom, but something ticked her off. I noticed Mrs. Blaine give me a sharp look.

“Um, okay, let’s get your stuff inside. We’ve got a lovely room for you, there’s a view of the Pacific Ocean. Of course, Brie was upset you can’t room with her, but I know she might be a lot to handle, especially full time. Brie’s my daughter by the way, seven years old and she already idolizes you. And there’s my two sons, Edward and Sam, Ed’s seventeen, and Sam’s your age of course, sixteen. They’re abit hostile, take a long time to get used to change, so don’t be worried if they don’t exactly welcome you into the family at first. You’ll meet all three of them later, they’re at school now. In the meantime, you may as well unpack.” I’d been listening to the woman ramble on so much I’d barely seen any of the house, and I realized we were at the top of a very fancy staircase. Trina pointed to a door on the left, with a yellow sign that already said “Ginie” in scrawled seven-year-old writing. Trina smiled. “She hasn’t got her spelling down pat yet. But she was so excited you were coming, none of us had the heart to correct her.” For a second I thought it was cute, but all my good thoughts were terminated when I thought about how clingy and demanding seven-year-olds are. We went in, and my breath was taken away. The room was two times as big as my whole apartment when I lived with my dad, and was at least three times the size of my room with my old foster family. There was a huge window, as well as a study desk and a queen sized bed. There were already bookshelves, and a huge dresser, as well as a laptop set up. I set down my suitcases and sat on the bed.

“I’ll leave you to unpack. If you want, I can give you a tour of the house later, but you’ll memorize it soon enough – its only three stories without the basement, so you’ll have no troubles. Just remember, the dining room and living room are on the main floor, the bedrooms are on the second floor, and the third floor is mainly game and entertainment rooms. The pool is outside, and the cellar and laundry room are in the basement. There’s a bathroom on every floor, so you’ll have no trouble finding one. Call me if you need anything.” With that she closed the door and left me with nothing but a few suitcases in this empty, free space I was supposed to call home.

AN: Yes, yes I know its short, but don’t bug me about it. The next chapters are going to be much longer, I just needed a short intro, but the next chapters will be better. This is my first story, so I’ll be asking your opinions on how things should go later on. Now review!!!