Hola.

So, this is one of my new stories.

i know, go ahead and groan. i have to many stories and I know that now. I"m gonna do only certain ones each week, so i can update alot over the week.

k?

Oh, and jsyk. in this is a izzy centric storie. Izzy and Lilly are technecally the same person, but Lilly has been called Izzy or Bella since she was 13. She is now 16.

OK?

The entire summary is in my profile, along with lots of other fun stuff.

I sat in my bedroom, angry. I hated living with my dad. He was kind of irresponsible. And in a lot of ways, he's a complete child. Of course, when you dad is a emo rock star, you can't expect that much of him. Oh, right. Sorry. I'm rambling about my pathetic life.

My name is Isabella Lillian Truscott-Wentz. I'm 16 now and I just moved back to Malibu, California. I've been living with my Australian cousins in Zaragoza, Spain for the last three years. I used to live in Malibu until I was 13.

I had the greatest friends back then. Oliver and Miley. Oliver was the kind of guy you just loved unconditionally. Like a puppy. No matter how much he messed up, or how stupid he acted, he was you best friend. Miley was a bit of a snob, but she was famous so you can't expect much more of her. Oh, yeah. She's really Hannah Montana. But in any sense, she was a great friend.

Back then I lived with my mom, and nobody really knew that my dad was Pete Wentz. Not even Miley or Oliver. I lived with my mom. But, she died.

So, I'm currently sitting in my room. On my bed. At my dad's house. He lives in a normal neighborhood. Not a gated one.

There's a knock at the door.

"Yes?" My dad walks through the door.

"Getting unpacked?" He asked.

"Te odio y no quiero estar aquí." I said in Spanish. Oh, yeah. Did I fail to mention that I'm fluent in Spanish, French, German, Italian, Russian, Japanese and Latin. Well, I suppose you cant' really be fluent in Latin. But, I'm as close as possible to being fluent in a dead language.

"English?"

"Je vous hais et je ne veux pas être ici?. Ich hasse euch, und ich möchte nicht, dass hier zu sein. Vi odio e non voglio essere qui." That's French, German, and Italian, in that order. He gave me a look.

"Look, Bella. I know you don't want to be here, but that's how it is. You going to have to talk in English here." He didn't know me as Lilly like my mom. He called me Bella or Izzy.

"Pourquoi s'en inquiéter. Personne ne va me souviens. Je vais rejoindre ESL."

"Bella!"

"I said, 'Why bother. Nobody's gonna remember me. I'll just join ESL.' Man, you need to go back to school."

"What did you say earlier?"

"I hate you and I don't want to be here." He came over to me and sat down.

"Izzy. Don't worry. It won't be that bad. I'm sure all you friends will be glad to see you." He wrapped his arm around me.

"Dad, I don't think there even going to remember me." My voice was coated with a thick Australian accent.

"How could they for get you? You are very unforgettable."

"More like forgettable. I haven't even heard from them in two years. They probity won't even recognize me."

"Well, maybe if you hadn't dyed you hair black, they might!" He petted my head. "You look just like you mother. Minus the blonde hair."

"I guess I look more like you now."

"Haha… yeah. I suppose." He stood up and walked back to the door. "I'll be downstairs with the guys if you need me." I nodded. He closed the door.