It was a cold day today, the air damp and humid, and the floors wet and slippy. I had never much liked it when it was too hot, as the sweat would dampen my hair, causing it to lose its perfectly spiked top. I didn't mind the rain as much, that's when storms happen most often, but it still ruined my black hair, making my thick dark eyeliner smear my face. I had dip dyed its jagged edges about a year ago now, thinking that I looked too emo with my hair naturally all black. That was one of my pet peeves; people not knowing the difference between Goth, emo and punk. I had explained countless times the difference, but it didn't seem to stick in anyone's head. It was as if it went in one ear and out the other. I had even brought in a presentation in to school once in seventh grade explaining the difference. I had got a detention for swearing at someone who raised their hand to ask me to go to the previous slide, as they hadn't had enough time to read it properly, or examine the photos. A letter had gone home to my mom that day and I had had my laptop and my phone taken off me for the reminder of the week. I was grounded too, which was embarrassing. But my mom had forgotten about it now, since it was like, what? Five years ago now? I was twelve when it happened, one of the older students in my class, and I was now sixteen, my seventeenth birthday was a month and three weeks away exactly.

My mom had been discussing having a foster child, to occupy the spare room across from mine and boost the income of money. I sighed. It wasn't as if we didn't have enough already. When I was seven, my mother had started giving my brother, Jason, pocket money. He would have been about ten or eleven then, and was getting ten dollars a week. I had begged my mom to let me have money too, but she had refused. 'You have no need for money like that Thalia, you're only seven. What would you spend it on anyways? I'll give you money when you're Jason's age, okay?' I remembered her words exactly, although I didn't know why. It wasn't as if it was an important part of my life. It turned out she gave my money a year and a half before she had promised. It wasn't until she had woken me up two weeks ago at seven thirty that I realised she actually meant it when she said we were going to get a foster kid. I had never really wanted another sibling. There was just me, my brother Jason and my mother Beryl Grace. Our father had left us before I was born, and Jason had little memory of him. I didn't need another sibling. Especially an Italian one. I was never going to be able to understand him. But nevertheless, he was supposed to be a boy, which was an upside to the situation, with the name of Nico di Angelo. I rather liked it really, and since he was only half Italian, I guess it wouldn't be impossible to understand him.

When I imagined him I pictured a tan boy, slightly older than me, but younger than Jason, with sandy blonde hair. I imagined him having soft brown eyes with a deep voice. Don't ask why, I bet no one in Italy looked anything like that, it was probably more Hawaiian surfer dude than Italian. I didn't think he would be anything like me. Perhaps liking the odd band that I did, maybe a couple books. I doubted he would like any of the films I did, as they were all horror films. I liked some action films, but not all. Romance ones tended to be soppy, and space ones tended to be fake. There were adventure ones, but again, they tended to be fake and cheap, involving mainly backdrops or green screens. I had gone off them at a young age, so they had probably improved a lot by now, but I wasn't willing to give them another chance.

I had been standing in front of the tall body length mirror in my room, spiking up my hair, trying to choose what to wear, applying my makeup, all that stuff. My mom thought it would be a good idea if we all came to greet him and give a warm welcome into our home. God, how much more corny could this get? After a while though, I had got her to let me stay in the car, as long as I dragged his luggage to his room. I agreed to it, only because he was from a foster home, and wasn't going to have much stuff to drag up there anyway. I put down my black lip liner, and gave one last glance in the mirror, before taking my phone and headphones and shoving them in my pocket and around my neck.

I heard a knock on the door, and Jason walked in, pulling a face. "Thalia-"

"Don't bother," I stopped him before he could say anything. I knew he didn't like it when I pulled my shirt down a bit too far, just so I could get the guys looking down my top. He even called me a slut once. My mom hadn't taken any notice, since she was always drunk. She had made a special effort not to have too much to drink last night, so she wouldn't come across as being an alcoholic. I doubt it would work though, since Jason and I learned to lock our doors at night in case she came and threw up on us when we were sleeping. I had learned that from Jason, who woke up covered in puke with our mother draped over the foot of his bed with a bottle of vodka in her hand.

"Come on, just a little bit?" he sighed, leaning against the hard wood of my door frame.

"Make me," I scowled at him.

"Thals, you're going to pick up your brother, not to a club,"

"He is not my brother," my voice was firm, as I emphasised the third word.

"Okay, he's not your brother, but think of him as a friend, not a sex toy," he folded his arms, obviously trying to make me think of the 'incident' that happened when I was fourteen. My mother had gone off to one of her friend's weddings, and Jason and I were left at home by ourselves. I had thought it would be a good idea to invite a friend round, and Jason didn't have a problem with it, 'till he realised I meant Luke. I think I must have gotten into my mom's alcohol cabinet and stolen a bottle of vodka or something, but we had agreed never to let anyone know about it.

"Jace, I was fourteen," I complained, letting my head fall back at the memory. "And drunk,"

"And that's why I called you a slut the next day. You kept me up all night, Thals," his eyes were kind, gentle. "I have a reason to be worried about you,"

"Yeah, well, that was nearly three years ago, just drop it," I pushed past him and walked to the car.

I stared out the window of the back seat, listening to Can You Feel My Heart by Bring Mme The Horizon. The rain seemed to create patterns on the window of the coal black car as we drove to the orphanage. Or whatever it was. I didn't care really. My mother and Jason had been discussing what to have for dinner and bow to welcome him into the house, and make sure he felt at home and all that crap. Whether to leave him to have some alone time, or to make sure he felt he was in a safe and happy environment.

"Thalia?" my mom had stopped the car now, and was reaching back to pull off my headphones.

I looked up at her. "What?"

"Be nice,"

I sighed for about the tenth time in an hour. "Whatever," I said, putting my headphones back on, as my mother and Jason got out of the car.

I heard the door open and close. My mom and brother were in the car, and there was another boy too. He had black ruffled hair, half covered up with an All Time Low beanie, and chocolatey brown eyes, with olive skin. He wore a black shirt with a skull on it and black skinny jeans, with black and white converse. The sun reflected off the silver skull ring on his right hand. He didn't seem to notice me looking, as he had earphones in too. I guessed he had already put his stuff in the back, because he held nothing but his phone and earphones. He looked nothing like I had expected. Looks like we'd be having another 'alternative', as my mother liked to call it, in the house. I looked back at my phone, pretending to text, as he glanced at me. He looked to be about half a year older than me, but I could be wrong. He smiled slightly, then went back to his music. He glanced at me throughout the drive home, smiling a bit more every time he did so.

I got out of the car a bit before it stopped, just to irritate Jason, who glared at me through the window.

His hand grabbed my forearm tightly. "Play nice,"

"I don't think those words are in the dictionary that is my mind, sorry for any inconveniences,"

"I mean it Thals,"

I took my arm back, walking into the house.

"Thalia!" my mom shouted after me. God, what now? "Come give Nico a tour of the house, introduce yourself," she flashed a smile in my direction, before dragging a black suitcase into the house. I guess she wasn't all that sober since she forgot that I was meant to be doing that. At least she'd made an effort. Not that it was a very good one.

I looked back at Nico, closing the car door quietly. He glanced at me, but looked away when he saw me staring. I didn't say much, just announced the name of each room, leading him finally to his and leaning against the wall outside it.

"Your room," I said, my voice emotionless. "You can decorate it how you want, and if you need anything," I said. "Jason's down the hall," I looked at his quizzical expression. He didn't say much. I felt his eyes follow me as a walked into my room and slammed the door shut.

Since my mom was passed out on the couch and Jason was studying, it was up to me to cook dinner. That never went well. The last time I had been made to cook a meal, was three years ago. Both Jason and I ended up throwing it up at some point that night, and took the week off school. I couldn't remember what it was I cooked, but I knew that I didn't want to try making it again, so I ordered pizza instead. I got a text halfway through dinner. It was from Annabeth.

Hey Thals, has the dude arrived yet?

Uhh, yeah, he dun talk much though

Is he haaawwwwwttt?

He's emo, but he aint gown get a mob uv gurlz screaming OH MY GAHD NICO I'LL PAY YEW FIFTY DOLLARS IF YOU FUK MEH

Would YOU do that?

Seriously Annie, no. I'm not a slut

You sure bowt dat?

Why? Do you know something?

No, just the fact that you purposely wear tight clothes and low shirts that you make extra low. And you wear them mega heels too, which are slutty as fuk

Yeah, whatever, I'll call you later, gotta go

I went to bed early that night, as I had been woken up at six thirty to go pick Nico up. I heard faint cries from down the hallway. I sighed. It was probably Nico getting over the fact that he had no family and no one in the world who loved him.

I awoke to banging on my door.

"Thalia? Mom's supply of vodka's gone down, she's bound to notice, did you take it?"

"No, did you?"

"No-"

"Check Nico-"

"Thals, I'm not going to ask him if he's been stealing vodka and getting drunk. He moved in last night, let him settle in,"

"I bet you it was him," I checked my phone for texts from Annie.

Hey, I just wanted to tell you that I want you to tell me everything that happened last night. Everything. All the gory details of what he did to you and what you did to him.

Annie, I did not fuk him!

You will do at some point. You know it's true

Have you even seen him? And it would look really weird if I started hooking up with him. I LIVE with him now. It would be like it was me and JASON

Sneak into his room at night and send me a photo of him so I can calculate how long it's gonna be till he screws you

Whatever, bye Annie, I gotta go

"Where's Nico?" I asked, walking into the kitchen.

"Probably still in bed," Jason was leaning against the countertop. "Wouldn't surprise me, he kept me up all night," he closed his eyes.

"He was in your room?" I snickered.

"No, he just wouldn't sleep. He was forever making noises," he looked at me. "Tell me you didn't-"

"I didn't fuck him," I hit his arm. "Yet…" I muttered under my breath. He didn't seem to hear, but continued the subject anyway.

"You know you can't do that right? And aren't you supposed to be with Luke?"

"No one can stop me,"

"He can,"

"But he won't," I flashed a sarcastic smile and sat on the sideboard, across from Jason.

The door to Nico's room opened, and he walked out in a pair of black skinny jeans and a Linkin Park shirt. I whipped my head around, making sure he hadn't heard any of our conversation. Luckily, he looked oblivious, his black hair ruffled as it had been yesterday.

"Where's the uhh…" he cleared his throat. "Where's the cereal?"

Jason pointed to the cupboard. "The bowls are in there, and the milk is in the fridge," he pointed out different places in the kitchen. "And the table's there," he laughed. God, he was such an ass hole. I rolled my eyes.

"I'm going now," I picked up my bag and left the house.

The cold wind acted as knives of ice against my face, gently cutting at my skin, making my eyes water. I was supposed to be meeting Luke at the warehouse about ten minutes away from my house, today, then we were going to set it on fire and go back to his. It was what we did every now and then. Something drastic whenever one of us was in a shit mood. We would call each other and do something disruptive or vandalise something. I guess you could say we were criminals, but we haven' got caught yet, or found out. No one even reports that there's been anything going on. We had never done anything this extreme before. It was only because I was in a doubly shit mood that we decided we would go this dramatic. And plus, he was in a bad mood too, because his mom kept having a g at him because he had 'attitude problems' and kept stealing stuff, so she kept checking his texts and asking exactly where he was going a and restricting him on what he could and could not do. To be honest, I had never really seen much of his parents. He said his dad left before he could remember, but his mom wouldn't tell him when and wouldn't talk about him. Apparently she was a bit insane, but still fit to be a mother. Don't ask me how that works, because I don't know. The difference between my mother and his, is that mine was an alcoholic, and didn't care where I went, what I did and who I screwed, whereas his was insane and cared a bit too much about what he did, where he went and who he screwed.

He had told his mom he was going to some field with a load of other kids to study. I had said the same to mine. We were gonna go to his after the warehouse. Apparently his mom wanted to see me. Probably just wanted to check that I wasn't a bad influence on him or some bullshit like that. She always did every year or so. It didn't happen very often, but when it did it was irritating as fuck. Sometimes she even makes me sit and have dinner with them. It's not like she's even a good cook either. But she usually leaves to go get the groceries after that, leaving us alone for an hour or so, sometimes more.

I would have taken the car, but I just wanted to walk for a bit. It took a bit longer than the car would have, but not too much so. I was a fast walker, so I guess it didn't make too much of a difference. When I got there, Luke was leaning against the abandoned building with can of gasoline and a box of matches. When he saw me his eyes lit up, his blonde hair slightly ruffled from the wind. He smiled and walked over to me, kissing me quickly.

"Hey," I said. "Is that all there is?"

"No, I got more in the truck," he said, gesturing to his van.

I picked up the can by the side of where he was standing and walking into the abandoned wreck. The can drippled and sloshed and I dragged Luke in after me, spreading the liquid over everything, up the walls and on the leftover counters and stands. The place smelled horrible after we had finished. We probably smelled like it too, so I would have to shower at his house and attempt to wash my clothes in the process, before going home, or my mom and brother would get suspicious.

"Who gets to light the match?" I said, turning my head away, but keeping my eyes on him, a faint smile creeping up on my lips.

"Who can throw the can the farthest?" he suggested, handing me an empty can and picking up his own.

"Sure," I held the can in my right hand, eyeing the other end of the room. He threw his first, then watched as I threw mine. His was slightly farther than mine, as I had never been very good at throwing bulky objects. I could throw spears well, but not gasoline cans. I was more of a strength and speed person. "Screw you," I said.

"No thanks," he said, taking out a match and striking it against the side of the box. "As soon as I drop this," he looked at me. "Run," he dropped the match, took my hand, and we ran out of the flaming building together.

We sat in the back of his truck, looking at the building for a while.

His arm was draped around my shoulders.

"We gotta go," I said. "Or the cops are gonna find us, or someone else will,"

"You don't mind having to see my mom, do you? Cause you don't have to if-"

"If I don't, then you'll get grounded, and then I won't be able to see you," I stood up. "So I do have to,"

"At least she's not going to make you stay for dinner tonight, we have family coming over, so you don't have to worry about getting food poisoning," he smiled, getting in the truck and slamming the door.

"What about my clothes?" I mimicked his movements, getting in the passenger seat.

"You can shower at mine, I'll wash them," he started the engine.

He opened the door to his house, the sound of his mother's insane voice coming from the kitchen as she prepared the dinner for their guests.

"Mom?" he shouted.

"You're back!" she shouted, a bit too happily. She ran out of the kitchen, a massive smile on her face. "She's here too!"

"You asked me to bring her,"

"Did you have fun studying?" her smile was rather frightening as she looked between the two of us.

"Kay, mom, we're going upstairs now," he said, pulling me with him.

"To do what?"

"We're going to study some more,"

"Why couldn't you do that outside where you were?"

"Because it's cold outside mom,"

"Have fun!" she shouted.

He rolled his eyes.

"I have to live with her," he said, closing the door to his bedroom.

"Yeah, at least yours doesn't get you extra siblings,"

"How irritating is he?"

"Well, he doesn't talk much, and you only see him a mealtimes, so not really, but I missed it when it was just Jason and me,"

"Does he know you exist?"

"Well, he saw me at breakfast, so yeah, I think so," I threw myself onto his bed. "But he's emo and so quiet and timid it's just like, what's the point of having him there? I mean, literally, the only thing I've heard him say is 'where's the cereal?'"

"What does your brother think of him?" he lay down next to me.

"He seems to like it,"

"What's 'its' name?"

"Nico dur something. He's Italian,"

"Italian?"

"Annie wants me to fuck him,"

"Would you?" he asked.

"Course not,"

"If I wasn't here, would you?"

"No, he's an asshole," I could hear his heartbeat under his shirt. "I'm gonna go shower,"

"Can I come?" he looked down at me.

"Isn't your mom downstairs?"

As if on cue, I heard the front door open and close, then the sound of it being locked from the outside.

"She was," he leaned down and kissed me. "But she went to get groceries," he kissed me again. "And now you're gonna go take a shower," he kissed me a third time. "And I'm gonna come with you," his hands cupped my face.

He pulled me up, walking me to the bathroom.

I opened the door to the shower, walking in backwards as Luke kissed me. It slammed shut and I leaned against the on switch for the water. The floor was slippy, so I found myself straddling his hips after a couple of times slipping. The water was hot, steam replacing oxygen, and I found it hard to breathe after a while. My hands wondered to his shirt, ripping the neckline, then the rest of it, pushing it off his shoulders. The steam was making my head go all fuzzy. Some things I could remember crystal clear, and others next to nothing of. Like I didn't remember him taking my shirt off, but I did remember the feel of his tongue on my lips. The feel of his teeth on my neck. The feel of his hair tangled with my fingers. The feel of his hands on my skin.

I woke to cool sheets and a fresh smelling pillow. Something long trailing across my chest and linking itself with my hand. Two more tangled in my legs. Something heavy resting on my chest. It was dark outside and there was knocking on the door.

"Luke?" the voice shouted. "Come say hi to your grandparents," she knocked again. "And turn the shower off!"

I shook his head lightly, still not completely conscious, or exactly sure of how I got there or what had happened. "Luke," I whispered, my voice cracking. "Luke,"

He sat up, looking at me with a confused expression. "What was she saying?"

"You forgot to turn the shower off," I propped myself up on my elbows. "And she wants you to go say hi to your grandparents,"