I never really met or knew my father, just fleeting glances when my mother decided to visit him at the prison, not having anywhere to dump me while she went there. Kelly sometimes came along too, but she had the benefit of friends, and often spent time at their houses.

I don’t really know where my dad is right now, and I don’t care. Not the best father one could have.

My mother died when I was seven, from drug overdose and her latest boyfriend beating her. My aunt took Kelly and I in, and we abandoned the town that I’d grown up in. I left it willingly, and Kelly too, though she was a little saddened by having to leave her friends. She doesn’t remember them so much now, though. She’s a social butterfly, flitting along and making a friend in five seconds. She won’t forget them letting her stay all the time, despite the smoky smell always on her clothes. It’s not like she was the one who smoked. Unlike me.

Kelly is my twin sister, though we’re not identical. Actually, we hardly look alike at all. I’m three minutes older than her. I’m not a very good older brother. Not like she cares. She doesn’t need me. I’ve got the dark hair and dark eyes from my father, pale skin from my mother. I’m kind of short like her too, 5’7”. Kelly is blonde and tall, with tanned skin from being outdoors so much. Her eyes are a striking green. My eyes are so brown that they look black unless you’re about an inch away.

So I’m pretty much nothing like my sister at all.

We lived down in Florida for a little while, then moved up to Massachusetts for a good seven years. So by the time we left to Ireland, I was sixteen.

“God, Jackie, could you get your friggin’ feet out of my face?!” Kelly snapped, batting at my Etnie-clad feet.

“Okay, jeez,” I muttered, drawing my feet back across the back seat of the car, curling my knees by my chest as I read the last book I’d brought, most finished on the plane ride and waiting in the airport. I read a lot. Usually about four to five books a week.

“Stop fighting,” my aunt, named Layla, snapped from the front seat. I don’t all her Aunt, like Kelly does. I know she wants to be called that, but I just call her Layla. She quit arguing about it in the second year of knowing me. I can’t help it. I don’t use familial names. They don’t exactly hold a significant meaning for me.

“Jesus, you stink, Jackie,” Kelly muttered, holding a hand in front of her nose. “Aunt, he’s been smoking again!”

“I don’t ever stop smoking,” I replied softly, not looking up from my book. I caught her grimace out of the corner of my eye, holding back a smirk.

“It’s not good for you, Jackie,” Layla said from the front, sending a glance back at me. “You’ll die young.”

“I don’t care.” I shrugged indifferently, hearing her sigh from the seat but not looking up yet again.

“You should.”

I raised an eyebrow at my sister. “You cared since when?”

“You’re my brother! Of course I care about you!” She made a pouting face, but I didn’t say anything.

“Oh, shut up, you two,” Layla said, and I could almost hear her eyes rolling.

I turned back to my book, ignoring the rest of the drive.

“We’re here,” Layla said, and I finally glanced up from my book, my first movement besides turning pages for the last half hour. I turned into the correct direction in my seat, then clicked open the door, sliding out and stretching my legs, stamping my left foot to get the pins and needles out of it.

The house wasn’t small, that was for sure. Not mansion sized. A good three stories. “How many bedrooms?” I asked, turning to Layla and turning my head to the side.

“Six,” she said with a chuckle. “Four bathrooms, one kitchen, a den, a living room, laundry room, and an office.” She raised her eyebrows at me, and I turned away, looking back to the house. White with light blue trim, lots of windows. I walked to the back of the car, pulling out my bag, the only things that I had in it. I wasn’t one for possessions. The only box I’d sent held my clothes, and it had already arrived, by the looks of it. I hung the strap of the athletic bag over my shoulder and walked to the front door, up the peeling white paint steps. I pulled open the screen door with a creak and tried the front, which was unlocked. I walked into the house, viewing it.

I’d entered in a short hallway, with wood floors. I walked along it into a large living room, completely empty, with just wall plugs and a small fireplace. I went through this room, spotting a large kitchen to the left along a narrow hallway that led to stairs. I passed the laundry room and one of the bathrooms along the way, walking up the stairs.

I came to a large hallway, with four doors, two by two facing each other. One was a bathroom, one a closet, and the other two were bedrooms. One of the rooms had its own bathroom.

I turned on the stairs again, going to the third floor. This one had another four doors, and a tiny set of stairs leading to the attic. All four were bedrooms, two with their own bathrooms. I picked the one at the end of the hall, with its own bathroom. It was nicely sized, though not small, but also not too big.

I dropped by bag into the center of the empty room. “So I suppose we’re going to go get furniture now, right?” I called loudly.

“Yes, if you get down here!”

I didn’t bother yelling back, just left my newly acquired room and went to downstairs. My aunt was putting the boxes in the living room, and Kelly was on the phone, apparently ordering a truck to get the furniture.

“We got here late, and we only have two days until you start up school, so we need to get going now if you want to sleep on a bed tonight.” She smiled warmly at me.

“I wouldn’t mind sleeping on the floor,” I said. “Actually, I was going to ask you if I could just get a futon to lay on the ground.”

“Well that’s fine with me,” Layla said, though she raised an eyebrow. “But I want a bed.” She set the last box down next to the kitchen counter. “Kelly! Let’s go.”

My sister nodded and said a few last words into the phone, hanging up.

“We’re already connected?” I asked, claiming shotgun as we got to the car.

“I paid ahead of time. For your friends when you get some at the new school.” She smiled widely, though she knew just as well as I that I wasn’t likely to make friends. I smoke, I’m not social, and oh, by the way, I’m gay. I also have issues with depression and razor blades are a little too tempting. I have the scars...and a few fresh marks...to prove it.

You wonder why I always wear long sleeves.

I didn’t reply, keeping my quiet demeanor the whole way to the town, which was only about five minutes away.

We spent the rest of the evening picked out things for the remainder of my family. I’d found a small desk and a futon within ten minutes.

I spent the rest of the weekend I had decorating my room and cleaning up the large house. It had been an inheritance to my aunt from some relative I’d never met, and she’d taken it. She’d actually gotten it a long time before, but had waited until we were sixteen before leaving. Then we would be more ready, she said. I didn’t care, Kelly was sad. It’s not like I had anything for me.

It was soon transformed into my liking. Not very cluttered, actually rather simple. I’d placed my black futon with white covers in the corner of the room, a small red alarm clock next to it. No posters on the walls, just the same white paint. A small desk sat near the window, and a pair of white curtains covered the window. My small closet had all my clothes hanging in it. A lamp and a pile of books stood by the alarm clock. my iPod and it’s dock, as well as a simple Macbook sat on the desk. That was it.

Monday came faster than it should have.

I woke up to the loud ringing of my alarm clock, and I slammed it off grumpily, scowling daggers at it. I sighed and shoved myself off the bed, shuffling over to my closet and viewing the contents with tired eyes. I sighed and picked out a pair of slightly loose jeans with a simple black belt, and a Green Day shirt. I ran a hand through my black hair, hanging around my face, just past my nose in length.

I slid into my Etnies and jogged downstairs, grabbing a banana and eating it quickly. I went to the front door and grabbed my backpack, slinging it over my shoulder. I left without waiting for anyone, as usual. I always just left. Layla and Kelly were long used to it by now.

I caught the public bus to the town, ignoring the looks from people. I got off at my stop, two blocks from the school. I walked the two blocks, fifteen minutes early.

I ignored the looks from kids around me again as I went to the front office, picking up my schedule and a map. I also got my locker combo. “My sister will be here soon too,” I said. “Or she already is. I don’t know.”

“Oh, Kelly?” the secretary had stars in her eyes, and I knew that she was already impressed by my social twin. “Yeah, she came earlier with your aunt.”

“Psh, thanks for the ride,” I muttered, as I’d vaguely wondered why the house had been so quiet but not bothering to think about it.

“Well, thank you,” I said, waving and leaving the office, finding my way to my locker with the map, years of living in a big Massachusetts city kicking in with my map skills. I went out a lot, whether to find the few people I knew that I hung out with, though I wouldn’t call them friends, or just to get out of the house.

I clicked open the locker on the first try, my precise-ness tendencies showing. I slid what I wouldn’t need into the locker, organizing it neatly. I then slammed it shut, carrying my backpack to my first class.

The first day wasn’t as much hell as I’d expected. Everyone had an accent, but luckily I was good at deciphering how people from different countries spoke. Also came with living in a big coastal city. Only one teacher made me introduce myself in front of the class, for one. I didn’t try to talk to anyone, and only a few tried to talk to me.

With classes finally out, I stole out to the bus stop, knowing I had a good twenty minutes before it came. I flipped a cigarette out of my pocket and lit it up, taking a long drag and closing my eyes, feeling a slight breeze through my black hair.

“Where do you get those?”

I opened my eyes to view the speaker, a tall, attractive boy who apparently went to the school. He was tan with red hair and sparkling green eyes, freckles across his face.

“Does it matter?” I asked, taking another drag and leaning back on the bench, leaning on one of my hands.

“Just curious,” he said, taking a spot next to me. I snuck a look at him. Muscled, maybe an athlete. He was wearing jeans and a simple black shirt, nothing too amazing. But damn, he was hot. “You’re new here. You’re...Jackie.” He smiled at me, snapping his fingers as he remembered my name. “You’re in my second hour.”

“Cool,” I said, not really thinking it was all that cool. I breathed in the smoke deeply, wishing that I didn’t have to talk. I didn’t mind as much as I normally would, though. It’s hard to not like someone as pretty as this kid. “Who are you?”

“I’m Chase,” he said, extending a hand. I glanced down at it and shook it, my small, pale hand seeming very girlish in comparison to his. His touch was warm, mine cold.

He didn’t say anything more as I finished off the cigarette and started up another. The bus finally came, a little late, and we both got on. I chose a seat in the back and he sat in the row across from me. I curled my knees up against my chest and opened a book, hoping to get a few words in before I got home.

“You’re a second year, right?”

I glanced up at Chase, my gaze blank. “Yes. We’re in the same class.”

“Naw, they mix in other grades in that class,” he said, shrugging. “I’m second year too.”

I nodded once and turned back to my book, but hardly got in a paragraph.

“So you’re gay, right?”

My head snapped up, eyes wide. “What?!” I said, almost stuttering over the word.

“I just noticed that you don’t look at the girls at all. Not really any boys, either, and believe me, we have got some cuties at the school.” He raised an eyebrow, and I was speechless. “’Course, you’re cuter.” He winked and a swear my jaw fell to the ground.

I felt the bus pull to a stop and I instantly stood up, almost smacking my head on the bar above me. I grabbed my backpack and book bag, thanked the bus driver, and got off right there.

And then I noticed that he was following me. I spun around, giving him a glower. “Can I help you?” I asked, narrowing my eyes dangerously.

“Hey, it’s my stop too. I live just a little ways down from you.” He pointed down the road in the direction of my house. “So I decided that I’d walk with you.”

I stared blankly at him for a moment, then crossed my arms over my chest. “You’re fucking with me, right?”

He gave me a confused look. “Why would I do that?”

“Because there is no possible way that I can come to Ireland and on my first day meet a cute guy who happens to be gay and doesn’t bitch at me about my smoking. It’s not in the realm of possibility.”

“I’m not gay,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I’m bi. And no, smoking isn’t good for you, but that’s your decision so do whatever the hell you want.” He shrugged, and took a step closer. I took one back, trying not to trip on anything. “Who says that something has to go wrong no matter what?” he said quietly, closing the gap between us. I skittered back, only to run into the bench and fall onto it with an ‘oof!’ I looked up at him, my eyes wide. He put a hand on either side of me on the bench, me in a sitting position.

He didn’t say anything, just traced a thumb down my jaw line before resting on my chin. He lifted my face up and kissed me.

This isn’t real... I thought, and passed out.

HA! I don’t prolong things, do I?

I decided to upload it, with the requests to do so. I had to go through the whole thing and put in my page breaks, 'cause they removed all of them. Did it in my older stories too, but I really don't want to go back and fix them all.

Yeah yeah, typos, I don't care.

Reviews?

I have four more chapters to upload today. Haw haw.

-Jaw