As my alarm clock went off with the loud reoccurring beeps like every weekday, I groaned and turned over in my bed and hit my hand down on the top till it stopped. It was barely seven in the morning. Why I had it set for this early? For absolutely no reason, apart from the fact I forgot to turn it off yesterday so I could sleep in this Saturday. I turned over and snuggled down under the warm duvet, trying to keep warm and get back to sleep. It was already light outside because I had glanced at my window, revealing the beams behind the curtains. They looked translucent in the light but you couldn't see past them in the dark. Pulling the bed covers over my head I still couldn't get to sleep, even with the dark. Well, now I was awake I might as well get up. I didn't want to eave my warm bed however, to be greeted by the cold air that I could already feel seeping through the sheets. So instead I lay awake for a while.

My room was small. It had always been a small room for me wherever we moved to. Yes, we move around a lot. This was our third house. The first was the house in which my dad still lived; my parents were divorce now, meaning we had to move away. Unfortunately, my mother wasn't the richest of all people so we ended up in some crummy house until we came here. Anyway… the walls were violet, black in the dark though, but badly covered with a thin layer of paint. It was supposed to have had a second coating but there had never been time too. My bed took up a whole wall, and opposite was the door. My wardrobe was at the foot of my bed next to a easel, and then a desk stood next to the door opposite the head of my bed. It had a laptop, covered by random papers and underneath was all my books. I didn't have many because I had got rid of most of them when we moved. Most of the books I read came from the library. Easel, you say? Well, yes, painting it one of my favourite pastimes, and the painting supplies fitted neatly on top of my wardrobe.

When at last I actually got up, I retrieved my dressing gown from the floor and quickly wrapped myself in the thing starting to shiver from the cool morning air. It was winter after all. Deciding I should get dressed, instead of asking for chill blains, I looked through my wardrobe for something warm. It wasn't hard since I'd sorted out the warm and cool clothes a couple of weeks ago. Pulling them on, I looked at my reflection in the inside mirror of the wardrobe and brushed my shoulder length, dark blonde, wavy hair. Thinking that it would be alright, I went downstairs on a quest for food.

Like my room the kitchen was small too. It had a couple of counters lining a wall and then a fridge. The oven was also on the row of counters. I felt like something hot so I put on the kettle and took out a mug from one of the cabinets above. After less than a few minutes it clicked so I poured out some hot water to make a cup of tea. I walked through into the living room and set it down on the coffee table. Putting the TV on, I flicked to a random channel I liked before heading back into the kitchen for some toast. My mother came down shortly, and made herself a cup of tea. She wasn't dressed yet, but like me she had wrapped herself in a dressing gown.

"You going out today?" she asked me, like she did most Saturdays. It had become a usual thing since I had gone to town… once.

"No, I have stuff to do." Was my reply that I used too often.

"Oh." She said, looking a little let down that I wasn't going out. "Well, Carlisle's coming round later."

I put down the toast I was eating a looking at her curiously. "Say what?" I asked.

"Carlisle's… oh did I not tell you about my new fiancée?" She realised she can't have because of my confused look.

"No…" I said slowly. "When was this?"

She smiled slightly. "Six moths ago, when I saw him at the shop."

My mother worked in a coffee shop as a part time job. It had been too hard for her to find any real work so she had resorted to working there. It wasn't that bad really. Once you get past the weird manager who owns the place.

"He has come nearly every day since we first met and well… things progressed."

I mentally rolled my eyes. Adults and love… They make it seem so cheesy.

"So, love, Mabye you can meet each other. I'm sure you'll get along."

I debated this for a minute. My mother had actually forbidden me to see my dad now. It have been just over two years since the divorce and since then I had never been allowed even a phone call. But she had never found out about the emails or letters. How persistent he would be if he found out about my mum and… what was his name again? Oh right – Carlisle. Just by his name I knew he would probably be old… At least his parents would be. Who calls their son Carlisle in this century?

"No thanks." I said. It would be for the better. I doubted that my mother would go very far with him if I didn't involve myself with this man. The further we stayed apart, the better.

My mother looked shocked. "What?!" she said exasperated. "What do you mean no?!" She stood up and switched off the TV. "I want you to meet my new fiancée! How could you say something so rude?!"

My brow furrowed. "I don't want anything to do with whoever this is. I don't want dad to get… replaced!" I stood up too looking angry.

"Lacy, I can't believe you would think of something like that! I am not going to replace him, you still have your father. I just like Carlisle now. Can't you understand?"

I crossed my arms, not really hungry anymore. "You liked dad when you married him." I said quietly, picking up my place and then walking from the room.

"Lacy!" My mother called after me. "Lacy!"

I ignored her and took my cup of tea upstairs. I was not going to meet some stranger who could be goodness knows what. Besides, if I let her do this then I might end up being expected to do more than just accept him. I might be expected to call him dad. I shuddered at the thought of calling some stranger a father.

So what I had meant by stuff was really finishing my newest piece of "the view outside my window". It was quite a complex painting but I loved it all the same. Retrieving the A3 paper from atop my wardrobe I set to work for the day, looking up every now and then out my window and going off to get clean water. As I had finished a large tree in the front garden I had hardly noticed someone entered my room. Guess who it was.

"That's a beautiful painting you've got there." He smiled at me, as I turned around.

I did not look pleased.

"Look," I said. "You're not going to win me over with compliments like you probably did to my mother so I suggest you stop trying. I get bored with people easily." I then turned back to my painting, dipping my brush into the water jar.

Bewildered he didn't move from where he stood. Instead he continued. "Do you take art at school?"

I turned round to look at him properly now. He was quite handsome, with light blonde hair. He seemed young actually.

"Umm… yeah." I said, though not in the harsh tone I had used before. Yet, it was strange he hadn't even got angry when I lashed out at him.

My mother came into the room and stood next to him. I really hoped they would shut it when they were finished talking with me. I hated it when people opened doors that were very clearly shut before and meant to be for a reason.

"Sweetie, this is Carlisle."

"I gathered." I said flatly, hoping he would get that he was not welcome, especially in my room.

My mother's lips thinned like every time she got angry in front of guests but didn't want them to get the wrong idea. He muttered something to her I didn't hear and she went a light shade of red.

"Sorry, but I'm kinda busy…" I started, wondering why I had apologised.

"Sure." Said Carlisle, but in a believing voice. He walked out, but my mother stayed behind.

"Stop being so rude." She hissed at me.

I raised my eyebrows. "I. Don't. Care." I hissed back.

She shook her head in an annoyed manor as if to say 'I'm going to give you a piece of my mind when he's gone'.

I didn't leave my room until lunch, when I had hoped that he would leave. Unfortunately, my mother caught me in the kitchen and told me he was staying the night and she wanted us to have a "family meal" together. I glared at her when she explained it because it was no more a family meal than a gathering of half a family with a stranger.

I had only two options – let them progress and do goodness knows what, probably ending up in marriage and maybe even siblings which would not go well with me. Or I could keep them apart, perhaps play dirty and pretend my mother still loves my dad. That would be interesting…

Getting a couple of snacks I went back upstairs and onto my laptop. I spent a while chatting to my friends and watching random videos online until I got bored enough to actually do some homework. I decided I was not going to leave my room till HE left. As if my mother would actually think I would attend a dinner with him. However when the evening came I didn't have a choice. Which means it was either "family dinner" or no internet for the rest of the year.

Muttering angrily to myself, I made my way into the dining room and sat down in the furthest seat possible from Carlisle. I could feel him watching me. He was almost burning me with his gaze. My mother came in through the door and sat down between us. I didn't even let my eyes wonder towards him. It was as if he wasn't worthy of my glance.

My mother broke the awkward silence. "Lacy, why don't you tell Carlisle about all the painting you do?" she said, emphasising her words like she was angry with me. I wonder why.

"Why would he want to know?" I spoke of him as if he weren't even here. He shouldn't be here.

She shot an angry glance at me and then a sorrowful one at him. I mentally huffed.

"It would be nice to know what you could have been doing all day, stuck up in you room. How bored you could have been…" he actually made the mistake to talk to me again.

"Yeah, well, you haven't seen me so you wouldn't know. But it's not really any of your business so…" I trailed off at the amazingly horrifying glance I was getting with every word.

Annoyed I stood up. "Look I'm not even going to bother trying to eat my dinner if all I'm going to get is angry expressions from you." I folded my arms.

"Anne, it's fine, really." He said to her. She sighed and looked up at me who was still waiting. Then Carlisle did something I sincerely hated him for. He moved his hand over to my mothers and then caressed it. I had to bite my tongue to stop me yelling.

"Lacy, sit down, please." She sighed, let down at the situation I made. I sat, thoroughly annoyed and angry. I didn't eat any more food. I merely gave Carlisle evils for the rest of the dinner. Eventually my mother and him got up into the other room. I sat at the dinner table and folded my arms and putting my head down. A small tear fell down my check and was absorbed by my top. How could this be happening to me?