Dear readers,

This is not your average H2O fanfic. So far, the original characters will not be included. I'll let you know if I ever plan on changing that. Let me know what you think! For every comment, I'll post one chapter. I recently edited my existing chapters, so I have about eight written ahead of time. Constructive criticism is always appreciated. Don't be afraid to let me know when you catch a typo. So, without further ado, may I present Chapter 1. . . .

My name is Mikayla. Mikayla van Pierce. I am fifteen, and I've lived in Las Vegas, Nevada with my parents and my older brother, Ethan, my whole life.

Until three years ago.

My mother forgot her phone at work, so my father agree to drive her late one night,. They left me home, promising to be home in a few minutes. They never made it back.

A rich, drunk tourist driving a yellow hummer and crashed into them on their way back to work. My parents' car flipped off the road and slid upside down, killing my father instantly and critically wounding my mother, who died alone in an ambulance an hour later.

After three hours, I grew worried, and turned on the local new. A picture of my dad's car and the damage done to it caused me to break down into tears and turn off the news. Ethan found me a half-hour later, sobbing on the floor.

Ever since, Ethan's taken care of me. Even if it means saving me from bullies, or pulling me from lockers. In my head, Ethan's my knight in shining leather, waiting to carry me off into the sunset on his steed of steel.

Sorry. Ethan says I have an overactive imagination.

Anyway, that's how I spent my last few days of school: dodging bullies.

"Hey, orphan!"

I grimace as I turn to see Mary Grace LaBush, a mean rich girl with a superiority complex. Her father's the local weatherman and because of it, she's certain she's going to get a job as an actress in Hollywood.

"What do you want, Mary?" I fold my arms over my chest.

"Where's my math homework?" Mary Grace starts to file her nails.

I swear I see my life flash before my eyes. "I stopped doing your homework in seventh grade, Mary. We're freshman now. You'll never make it in the movie biz bullying someone to do your homework."

"That's where you're wrong, freak," Mary sneers, her perfectly sculpted nose wrinkling in disgust, like someone put rotten fish up to her nose. "Because I'm actually somebody. And you . . . you're just a nobody who had her fifteen minutes of fame when her parents died."

Mary snaps her fingers and her two goons, Betsy and Missy, haul me into a nearby trash can. I can hear them laughing as I struggle to pull myself out of the trashcan.

I pick trash out of my hair as I make the walk of shame towards the bathroom. I stop to grab a spare change of clothes from my locker as I head towards the showers.

I let the water run over my head, washing out the smell and the memories. I change as quickly as I can in the locker rooms and hurry outside.

Ethan's motorcycle is parked on the sidewalk. My brother leans against it, the sleeves of his leather jacket pulled taut over his perfectly sculpted muscles. He looks up and smiles his heart-breaking smile, the smile that makes all of his college friends swoon, and I run into his awaiting arms.

Out of all the ways in the world to travel, Ethan's motorcycle is, by far, my favorite. Ethan spends most of his free time working on it, and I help him. It's my favorite past time.

I wore Ethan's leather jacket, and I had my arms wrapped around his waist. I pressed my cheek against his shoulder and watched the lazy world go by.

Ethan pulling into the driveway of our home, and I blinked at the truck in the driveway, which was painted bright pink and purple.

"Logan's here?" I asked, looking at Ethan.

"Yep," Ethan said, putting up the kickstand and helping me down. I'm not exactly short, but Ethan's 6' 2" makes my own 5' 4" feel tiny. "She flew in this morning. We actually have some exciting news."

I barely heard the last part. I practically flew into the house, slamming the front door and running full force into my brother's australian girlfriend, Logan.

Her brown hair and freckled face was a welcoming sight. She wrapped her arms around me in a much-needed hug.

"Hey, hop-a-long," she laughed, tugging on the braid my blonde hair was currently falling out of.

"You're here!" I cheered, hugging her again.

"I'm afraid I'm only here for a few days," Logan said. "I still have lots of planning to do for the wedding."

I blanched. "Wedding?" I pulled back and looked at Logan's left hand.

A silver band, with dozens of crystal flowers, adorned Logan's finger. A bright blue flower that appeared to be made of blue topaz, Logan's birthstone, was in the middle of a diamond flower, Ethan's birthstone.

"I'm getting married!" Logan practically shrieked with happiness.

I cheered, too. I already loved Logan, and she was already like a sister to me.

"Plus, we're moving out to Australia with Logan," Ethan said, walking up behind Logan and kissing her cheek.

"We are?" I asked.

"That's right, hop-a-long," Logan said, kissing the top of my head. "Aussie, Aussie, Aussie!"

"Oy, oy, oy!" I answered, laughing.

Ethan and Logan walked away, hand in hand, talking about the wedding, and what they planned to do in Australia.

I turned away and grimaced. What was in Australia for me? Looking at the house, I saw bookshelves and vases covered in layers of dust, echoing the hurried whispers of them. My parents.

I knew. There was nothing for me in Las Vegas. If I stayed, there was only the pain of memories and sadness. If I left, I could have a chance at a fresh start. Away from the bullies that tormented me for three years. Get actual friends, that didn't just exist in my imagination or in books. Percy Jackson and the School for Good and Evil were pretty good to me when I first lost my parents, but sometimes, I was so lonely, it hurt.

In that moment, that single moment, I knew. I was moving to Australia.