Hello there ladies and gentlefolk! So it's been quite a while since I first announced the rewrite of Opposites Attract, and quite a bit has changed in that time, including some of the content within this story! I have made a lot of adaptations from the original, for multiple reasons – I'll go into this in greater detail at the end for those of you who are interested. But I don't want to waste the time of those who just want a story!

Anyway, so I apologise for the delay, but A-levels were absolutely killing me. I'm into summer now and I look forward to getting some serious writing done, especially seeing as I'm applying to Creative Writing university courses for 2015! I've missed you all a great deal, and I hope you'll all forgive my absence.

Thank you to LEva114 for beta reading!

WARNING: This story does contain mild language. It's at what I call 'American sitcom level'. In other words, the language in here will be no worse than 'crap' 'damn' and possibly 'bitch'.

OPPOSITES ATTRACT – REWRITE

Chapter One – Just what I was used to

In the summer after I finished my end of school exams, my dad got married. And, truth be told, I wasn't massively happy about it: I didn't like the woman my dad was marrying, Sahar. She was far too concerned with her appearance, spent far too much money on her clothes, and cared far too little about her son, Sheik, who was just a year older than me. But I was determined that I wasn't going to ruin things for my dad. Clearly, despite her flaws, Sahar made him happy for whatever reason, and I wasn't going to get in the way of that. He deserved someone who made him smile after everything he went through when we lost my mother.

And so I put up with Sahar's Bridezilla temper tantrums. I let her dress me up like a Barbie doll in a thousand and one pastel coloured, pastry shaped, bridesmaid's dresses. I had to teach her son (my soon-to-be step brother) how to tie a bow tie. I even drove all the way across town on the morning of the wedding to pick up the flowers, as the florist's van had broken down. I did everything I could to prove to my father that I was ok with the wedding, even though he'd only known Sahar for a year.

All the effort was worth it though, because we pulled off the wedding with minimal issues. There was an awkward moment where the ring bearer, my cousin Keil, dropped the rings, but it was easily resolved with a soft laugh and a muffled apology. The vows were said. The church bells rang. Everyone clapped. 'You may now kiss the bride' and all that ensued. Then Dad and Sahar jetted off to the Private Oasis holiday resort, leaving me and my step-brother alone in the house for two weeks.

Fair to say, it was more than a little awkward. I barely knew Sheik. Most of the time that Dad and Sahar had been together, Sheik was off at boarding school. He was studying for advanced examinations, meaning that he only came home during the school holidays. I'd met him for a few select weeks at a time. We got on okay, but I wouldn't go so far as to say that we were really friends yet.

And then one morning, I was sat at the breakfast bar eating a bagel and sipping orange juice. I absent-mindedly flipped through a newspaper as I ate. Headlines slipped in and out of my mind as I turned the pages. Another national company had gone broke, another celebrity had been arrested, another politician had raised taxes. I swear not a single news article was positive. Why did no one ever do a report on how absolute poverty rates are all down? Or how cancer mortality rates are dropping? It seemed to me like every single journalist was a pessimist... I was halfway through the newspaper when Sheik came down dressed in nothing but a loose fitting t-shirt and a pair of boxers, his blonde hair mussed up like he'd just clambered out of bed.

"Oh Sheik!" I said, shielding my eyes. "I'm trying to eat here, so would you mind not walking around in your underwear?"

"I'm trying," he replied, laughing as he rushed through the kitchen barefoot. "I left my jeans in the dryer."

He vanished into the utility room. By the time he emerged a few moments later, I'd already finished my bagel. He pulled open the fridge as I downed the last of my juice.

"More OJ?" he asked.

I laughed. "Who even calls it 'OJ' anymore?"

He rolled his eyes, grabbing a glass from the cupboard. "I'll take that as a no then."

I cleared my dirty dishes from the counter, sliding out of my stool and making my way over to the dishwasher. He watched me with his rusty eyes narrowed, deep in thought as I loaded my dishes into the drawers.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" I asked.

"You friends all live in town, right?" he said, seemingly out of the blue.

"Yes…" I said uneasily.

He nodded. "Because I'm at boarding school, mine live all over the place."

I frowned, standing up and closing the dishwasher. "What's your point?"

"Do you feel like throwing a house party?"

I let out a soft laugh. It was a nice idea, but I just wasn't into it. It's not like I'm the clichéd not-many-friends-barely-leaves-the-house type girl. I'd been to house parties before, and knew all too well that they're not as glamorous as they're cut up to be. On one occasion, I'd even seen a friend throw up from a second floor window and onto the unfortunate couple stood below. I didn't have the stomach to clean up after that mess. And I, for one, didn't feel much like chipping dried vomit off the side of the aquarium.

"No, thank you," I said with a soft laugh.

"Why you gotta rain on everyone's parade?" he asked as he peeled a banana and tossed the skin on the kitchen side.

I paused. "Are you going to put that in the bin?"

He glanced at the banana peel. "In a minute."

"That's a no then…" I said, leaning over and grabbing the yellow peel from the kitchen side. In one swift motion I flipped open the lid of the food waste bin and dropped it in.

Sheik let out a laugh and said through a mouthful of banana. "I knew you were going to do that!"

I poked my tongue out at him in response. He knew full well that I didn't like leaving the kitchen in a mess. I guess I take after my mum in that respect… but it meant that he could leave his clutter lying around because he knew that I'd tidy it up sooner or later.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to having a boy around the house," I said.

As a result of turning down Sheik's ill-considered house party idea, we didn't really do much with our summer. I went to the movies a couple of times with my friends. Sheik and I stayed in some nights with take away pizza. On one occasion, I brought him, along with four of my friends, on a day trip to a theme park. It was fun, but it was hard to ignore the fact that Sheik and I didn't have a lot in common.

He was very athletic, going to the gym twice a week and for jogs each morning, which is probably how he kept his toned figure. He loved to crack jokes, though he tried to keep them clean when our parents were around. None of that would have bothered me, but he had this tendency to be brutally honest, and it really irritated me. I don't think it was something that he did intentionally, but that didn't change the fact that it made him come across as quite opinionated and rude.

It was early in the second week of our parent's vacation, when Sheik and I found ourselves stuck at home one evening. We both sat in the living room, him in grey shorts and an off-white t-shirt and me in my red skirt and a black tank top. He was busy tapping away on his tablet, and I was flipping through the movie listings on the TV.

"Do you feel like watching Tangled?" I asked. "I haven't seen it in ages."

He snapped his gaze up from the tablet, finger poised in mid-air. "Isn't that a kid's movie?"

"Yes," I said. "But it's still good."

He turned to me, cocking an eyebrow. "Zelda, you're nearly seventeen, smart, and reasonably sane. Why would you want to watch a kid's movie?"

"Because it's good!" I reiterated.

"Sounds stupid to me," he said, his voice slightly strained as he pushed himself up from his chair. "I'm going to play some Assassin's Creed."

It always irked me when people refused to embrace their childish side. How is it completely normal for him to own countless video games, but it was 'stupid' for me to want to watch a children's movie? I liked being childish sometimes. It was refreshing and reminded me of a time when no problem was too big that it couldn't be solved with a box of cherry ice cream and a hug from my mum and dad.

So I went ahead and watched Tangled anyway. I was right: it was awesome.

I'm sure it comes as no surprise that I was relieved when Dad and Sahar came home from their honeymoon. It was a welcome break from the effort I had to put in when trying to socialize with Sheik. And of course, it was great to be able to see my dad again. He strolled through the door, suitcase in tow, and wrapped me up in my arms.

"How's my favourite little girl?" he asked.

"I'm just happy you're home," I replied as we broke apart.

Sahar came through the front doors moments later, sporting a glowing tan and a new pair of designer flip-flops. Her expensively streaked blonde hair fell around her shoulders in glossy curls. She kissed me on either cheek, being careful not to smudge her lipstick as she did.

"How was Private Oasis?" Sheik asks, bounding down the stairs in his Chuck Taylors and short sleeved plaid shirt.

"Absolutely wonderful!" Sahar replied, waltzing past me to kiss her son on either cheek. "Warm, sunny, and there was a beautiful beach and such cute shops! We had a wonderful time, didn't we dear?"

"We did," Dad replied, flashing me a grin. I shuddered a little despite the warm temperature. I could put up with Sheik making dirty jokes, but hearing them from my dad was another matter entirely.

"Now Sheik dear, why don't you go get my cases from the car while Zellie here makes us all a nice cold drink?" Sahar said, taking a moment to straighten out my hair. I didn't bother to remind her that I didn't like her calling me Zellie. That was my mother's name for me.

I slipped from the room and into the large open kitchen-diner. This was the house I'd always grown up, so I knew it like the back of my hand. It was far from small, but being filled with family photos and trinkets from our holidays, it felt homely anyway. However, when Sahar moved in, she'd decided that she wanted to remodel the kitchen. She had mum's old wooden worktops and the aga ripped out and refitted with sleek black and white surfaces, a built in breakfast bar, and an island counter for cooking. I couldn't deny the fact that it looked good, but having such a modern kitchen made the place feel a little less like the home I'd always known.

I reached into the fridge, pulling out the pitcher of iced tea that Sheik and I made earlier that day. I then closed the door and pressed the button on the ice maker that was fitted on the fridge door. A grinding and clunking sound erupted as ice cubes dropped into the pitcher. Perfect. I placed the pitcher in the middle of a tray, put four glasses around it, and carried the tray out to the patio where Dad, Sahar and Sheik were sitting.

Sahar was spread out on the lounger, dark sunglasses pulled down over her eyes. She sighed like the journey home had been so exhausting for her – though I'm willing to bet Dad drove all the way back from the airport. As for Dad himself, he was on one of the wicker arm chairs, eyes closed and feet propped up on the coffee table with hands clasped on his rounded stomach. His greying hair was long overdue for a trim and pushed back like he'd been running his hands through it. I prodded his feet off the table with my toe, being careful not to spill any of the iced tea in the process.

He snapped one green-brown eye open, watching me carefully as I laid down the tray. His eyes were nothing like mine. I took after my mother, inheriting an indigo blue colour from her. I liked it that way; it was like having a small reminder of her every time I looked in the mirror.

"Good work Zelda, you didn't spill a drop!" Dad said, smiling as I straightened the pitcher.

"Congrats, you're now qualified to be a waitress," Sheik muttered from where he was lying on the grass a few feet away, reading a book.

"Sheik, leave your sister alone," Sahar said, not even looking at him. She never bothered to properly discipline him. It was what I liked to call the half-assed-parental-approach.

"She's not my sister," Sheik reminded her, never moving his eyes from his book.

"Fine then, step-sister," Sahar replied before turning to look at me. "Pour me a glass of iced tea, won't you dear?"

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and remind her that I'm not actually a waitress, opting instead to just do as she asked without complaining. I've found that life's a lot easier that way. Once she'd got her drink, I settled myself down in a wicker arm chair, pulling it a little closer to the table so I could pour my own drink.

"So," Dad said, the way he always did when he was trying to raise something important. "You've got results day next week." The ice clinked as it dropped from the pitcher into my glass, chipping away at the awkward silence. "Are you nervous?"

I put the pitcher back down on the tray before taking a sip from my iced tea. "A little… but there's not much point worrying now. I've done the work, so all I can do is hope that it went well."

"That's a good attitude to take," Dad said, nodding encouragingly.

"Hey!" Sheik called over from the grass. "And even if you fail all your exams, it doesn't matter. You can always be a waitress."

There we go again with the blunt humour.

"Sheik," Sahar said again. It could barely even classify as a scolding.

"It's fine," I said, more to myself than to Sahar. Nothing Sheik said could have any impact on my exam results, so why should I care?

"Besides," I added, before taking another sip. "You only need 7 C's to get into Floria Academy."

Sahar pulled her sunglasses down her nose, shooting my dad a look. I paused, glass poised mid-air. I felt suspicion creeping up inside of me.

"That's true…" my dad murmured while helping himself to a drink, "although, I'm sure you've done better than that."

"I hope so," I said, my gaze flicking between Dad and Sahar. "But I'm just saying, worst case scenario…"

I was lying. Floria Academy wasn't my worst case scenario. The plan had been Floria Academy from day one. It was the local sixth form college. It wasn't a dive; in fact, it was a good sixth form college. And I knew that going there, I could get grades that would get me into Clock Town University – which is where I planned to go in two years' time. They had a fantastic music history and performance crossover course there. It had been my dream to study music for as long as I can remember. Dad knew all of this… so why was he hedging now?

Dad let out a groan as he relaxed back in his chair, drink in hand. "Just remember, there are a lot of options out there."

That should have been clue number one.

Another week passed, each day spent like most days in the summer holidays are. I went to the outdoor pool with a couple of friends from school. Sheik took me for a drive in his new open-topped convertible car. I read a couple of books, learnt to play some new songs on my harp, and tried my best to keep my mind off of my exam results. But still, as the impending doom of results day loomed ever closer, it became harder and harder to ignore. Luckily, the day before I got my results, a friend of Sheik's came to visit.

He was tall, with broad shoulders and ruffled chocolate brown hair. I was introduced as the 'step-sister, Zelda' and greeted with a firm hand shake from a boy who called himself Pipit. He had large blue eyes and the kind of scattering of freckles only really associated with prolonged exposure to the sun.

"Good to meet you Zelda!" Pipit said. "Sheik tells me you're an Animal Crossing fan?"

I glanced at my step-brother, who had never been much of an AC fan himself. "Yeah… it's a mild obsession of mine."

Pipit grinned. "Join the club! I should've bought my DS."

"Oh come on," Sheik said. "It's boiling hot outside, so you don't wanna sit indoors playing video games. Let's go for a ride. I'll take you to that skate park I was telling you about."

And so the two of them vanished off for the day. Dad and Sahar were going out to buy a new stereo for the kitchen and asked me if I wanted to come along with them, but I didn't much feel like being cooped up in a stuffy electronics store all day, so I opted to stay at home instead. It was quiet in the house, the kind of quiet that leaves you alone with your thoughts – which is something I really didn't want to go through considering what was happening the following day. So I grabbed my iPod, put on a pair of sandals, and took a walk.

I found myself strolling leisurely along the edge of the lake in the city park. It was fairly crowded, and there were at least three ice creams vans in sight as I dipped my toes into the cool water. Couples were sat on towels, children played in the sprinklers, and teenagers milled about in groups, chatting and exchanging gossip in the scorching hot sun. Summer had set over Floria like it always did – long, hot, intense, and absolutely unavoidable. But I supposed that was the way I liked it. I guess it was just what I was used to.

I don't know how long I was out for exactly, but it must have been a while because I stopped off to snoop around in my favorite bookstore. Being the summer, I'd done a lot of reading, and I'd be out of books in a few days, so I dropped by to pick up some more. The shop assistant who worked there, Aida, was used to me coming in and rootling around for books. I came in and out at least once a week. In term time, I often popped in after school too. She was always ready and waiting with a friendly smile and a new suggestion. She picked out a few books for me that day, each and every one of them young adult novels set in societies very different from our own. I couldn't say for definite why fictions set in alternate universes appealed so much to me. Maybe it was some clichéd subconscious part of me that's trying to escape my own bland reality. Whatever the reason, I ended up leaving that store with five new books.

By the time I got home, Sheik's friend Pipit was getting ready to leave. As I walked through the front gates, they were clambering in Sheik's car so he could drive Pipit to the train station. The doors slammed shut as I held open the gates for them, and within a few seconds they'd pulled up beside me. Sheik wound down the window.

"Good day?" he asked me.

"Yeah, it was quite nice. I got some new books," I said, holding up the tote bag in my hand. "You?"

"Pretty good," Sheik said with a nod.

I glanced behind him to where Pipit sat in the passenger seat. "Are you off now?" I asked.

Pipit nodded. "Yeah. I've got to catch the 6:30 back to Kakariko. I'm supposed to be going for dinner with my girlfriend today and she'll be super angry if I'm late."

Sheik lets out a soft laugh. "You're so whipped…"

"Shaddup…" Pipit mutters bashfully, jabbing an elbow into Sheik's ribs. "Now come on, I don't want to miss my train."

I give him a small wave. "It was nice meeting you, Pipit!"

He nods. "You too Zelda. I guess I'll be seeing you soon."

But before I could correct him, Sheik revved up his car and sped away, kicking up gravel from the drive behind him.

That should have been my second clue.

Less than twenty-four hours after my confusing encounter with Pipit, I found myself holding a white envelope and sitting on an uncomfortable chair outside Costa Coffee. It was the closest coffee shop to my old school, and my parents insisted that they wanted to be with me when I opened my results. It had been quite a challenge to get out of school without opening it, not only because most of my friends had opened theirs in the school library and were celebrating together, but also because I desperately wanted to know how I'd done. Yet, upon Sahar's insistence, I had to politely excuse myself.

An untouched frappuccino sat in front of me in a thin plastic cup, whipped cream pushed up against the side of the domed lid. Sheik sat with me, noisily sipping his strawberry shake and looking particularly arrogant. I glanced over to where Dad and Sahar were still standing at the counter. The clerk was still making up their drinks, but I promised them I'd wait.

"Aw, I remember this," Sheik said, wearing a smug grin.

"Oh stop it," I sighed. "You got straight A's!"

"Actually," he said, taking another noisy slurp of his drink. "I got a couple of A*s…"

I shot him my worst look, dropping the envelope down on the table. "Well good for you…"

He let out a low laugh, leaning forward. "Relax Zel, I'm only teasing you! You're smart, I know you'll do just fine."

That's when Dad and Sahar made their way over, Dad carrying a tray with a cup of coffee and an iced tea. They settled themselves down on either side of me, watching me eagerly.

"Well?" Sahar said. "What are you waiting for?"

And so I picked up the envelope, tearing carefully at the corners. It's in that moment, that moment where you're finally opening the envelope that it hits you what it really contains. All those letters inked on to a page actually mean something. It's in that moment that I realized how terrifying it was.

I pulled out the sheet of paper, angling it so only I could see what it said. I wanted to know before anyone else… these were my results, my work, my future. My eyes glazed over the information, not really taking anything in. I skipped over all the individual exam results, looking instead to the subject grades – that was all I really needed to know. Letters danced in front of me, As, Bs… reassuring…

I quickly counted them up in my head.

"Two A stars, four As, four Bs" I said with a grin.

"Congrats!" Sheik said, patting me on the shoulder. "You should be proud!"

I was proud. All of those hours spent studying, staying late for revision classes and turning in countless practice papers had been worth it.

"That's enough to get in, isn't it?" my dad asked.

I beamed. "Way more than enough!"

But as I looked up, I realized that he wasn't talking to me. It took me a few moments to notice that he was in fact, addressing the question to Sahar. She was smiling, but I failed to understand.

"Zellie," she said, reaching out for one of my hands. "We weren't going to tell you, because we didn't want to put any pressure on you… but we sent in an application form for you to Her Grace's…"

Everything stopped.

"That's… Sheik's school, right?" I said.

"It's a sixth form college," she corrected me. "They offer amazing education, and Sheik has loved it there. We thought it would be the best place for you."

I blinked.

What was I supposed to say to that?

"You want me to go to boarding school?

So for those of you who are wondering about the reasons I've made such changes to this story, I'll list them out here. The first issue was that my writing has changed a lot since I wrote the original, and I feel that the plotline of the original is too superficial to fit with my current writing style, so some adaptations and additions were needed to keep the story engaging.

Secondly, I write longer stories nowadays, the chapters here will be longer than in the original story and there's set to be twice the amount of them, so I needed more content to work!

And lastly, there were some topics that I wanted to approach within this story, things that allowed me to push myself as a writer. In addition to that, this story contains elements of a story that I never got around to writing, Camp Floria.

And that's just about it! If you have any more questions, feel free to ask away in a review or send me a PM :)

Until next time!

-Nayru