Note: This is my second Four Brothers Fanfic. I'm currently writing a different story called Wanderer, but I'm suffering from some MAJOR writers block right now on that one. This plot came into my head this morning, so I'll work on this and hopefully come up with something to add to my other story. Hope you enjoy it. Please leave some reviews, I really appreciate them. Much Respect, River

I'm sitting miserably in my first hour class. It's the first day of my junior year at my new school, but at least it's everybody else's first day too. I just moved to Detroit with my dad two days ago. I hate always starting new schools, but I guess at least this time I'm not "middle of the year" new.

I tap my pen impatiently and stare at my desk as the students begin the fill the room. I curse internally as I observe my new classmates. It's just like every other high school I've gone to. There are the pretty and popular girls, the athletic kids, the burnouts, the stoners, the punks, and the geeks. I hate the stereotypes that surround me, mostly because I don't really fit into any of them.

I guess I'm closest to the "punks" if I had to choose. I have shoulder-length, blonde hair with black streaks in it. It's chopped into several different layers and always gives me that "just got out of bed" look. My clothes are from thrift stores; today is a pair of baggy jeans, a plain long-sleeved black shirt, and my old ripped up Chuck Taylor's. The best thing about having a dad that doesn't care about me is that I've been able to pierce my eyebrow and my lip and have seven piercings in my ears and an industrial bar. I plan on getting some tattoos soon too. I'm disrespectful and rude, but that's just my personality.

The bell rings and the teacher instructs the class to take our seats. Just as everyone begins to quiet down the door swings open and a teenager walks in, a cigarette hanging from his mouth. He is tall and thin with blonde hair that sticks out in all directions. He walks into the classroom like he owns the place and plops down in the desk in front of me. The teacher glares at him for a moment before speaking. "Cigarette, Mr. Mercer."

"My bad," the kid says sarcastically as he takes his cigarette out of his mouth and smashes it on the tile floor. The teacher glares for a few more minutes before finally turning to the board to begin. I sit and doodle aimlessly on my notebook, not caring what's happening around me. I want to get out, I want so badly to go back to Minnesota where I had friends. I'm thinking about my old town and my friends when the room is filled with useless chatter and noise again. Apparently the lesson is down.

The boy in front of me turns around and puts his hands on my desk. "You're new here, right?"

"Yeah, I just moved here." He holds his hand out. "Jack Mercer." I take it reluctantly and shake it.

"Berlin Stiles."

"So where are you from?" He takes me notebook and examines my drawing.

"Everywhere. But I moved from Minnesota." We sit there for the rest of the class period talking about nothing important. It turns out Jack likes music and art just as much as I do. He tells me that he has a guitar and he writes music, which I think is really awesome. If I had a guitar I would love to write songs. The bell rings signaling the end of class. Jack and I get up and I wander my way to my next class.

I walk into the cafeteria that day and start to panic as I realize I don't have anyone to sit with. I should have just skipped lunch since I don't have money to eat anyway, but when I try to leave the room a teacher stops me at the door.

"Are you a senior?"

"No, junior."

"Only seniors get open lunch." He stares at me for a minute until I back down. It's not worth arguing about. I make my way farther into the cafeteria looking to see if I can find Jack anywhere. Maybe he'd let me sit with him. I'm just about to turn around the try to leave out a different door when I hear a voice to my left.

"Hey, Berlin!" I turn and see Jack and a few other people sitting at a table. He waves me over to them and pulls out a chair as I approach. "Hey," I say as I sit down.

"Guys, this is Berlin," Jack begins. "She just moved here. That's Ryan, Nikki, Lyric, Tyler and A.J." He points to each person as he says their name and they wave or say some sort of greeting to me. They seem okay, but I don't like how they keep watching me like I'm going to drive a knife in their back or something.

The rest of my day goes fairly normally. Nothing too exciting. As I'm leaving my locker after my last class Jack comes up to me. "Hey," he says casually.

"Hey," I reply, slamming my locker closed and turning to face him.

"What are you doing now?" he asks.

I shrug. "Going home I guess."

"Want to skip that and hang at my place for a while?" I almost jump from the excitement of not having to go home right away, but I contain myself. "Sure," I reply as we begin to walk. Anything to keep me away from home for just a little longer. We walk for a few blocks before turning to approach a warm looking house. Jack swings the door open and ushers me inside.

"Home!" he yells into the house. A woman appears from somewhere inside wearing an apron and carrying a towel. She looks like she's probably in her fifties. Her eyes are soft and kind looking and she gives me a smile.

"Who's your friend, dear?"

"Mom, Berlin. Berlin, my mom," Jack says, swinging his arms back and forth. His mom takes a step towards me and shakes my hand.

"Hi Berlin, I'm Evelyn." I nod my head. She and Jack exchange a few words, mostly about school, before she returns into the house and I follow Jack upstairs into a bedroom. It's small, but it seems about the perfect size for Jack. I see his guitar sitting in the far corner and he has band posters covering the walls. I take a seat on the floor as he puts in a CD. We sit there and talk for a while, still mostly about music, but then there's a knock on the door.

"Keep it clean, Jackie!" somebody yells.

"Fuck you, man!" is Jack's reply as he smiles.

"Who's that?" I question.

"My brother, Angel." I ask Jack how many people live in his house and he tells me five, him, his mom, and his three brothers, Bobby, Jerry, and Angel. I ask about his dad and he tells me that he was adopted. That must be why Evelyn looks a little bit old to have a son Jack's age. I think about how lucky he must be to have been adopted into a family like this. And I wish I could be someday.

There is another knock on the door and Evelyn pokes her head in. "Berlin, are you joining us for dinner?" I look at the clock and realize I was supposed to be home an hour ago.

"Shit!" I yell, jumping up from the floor. I notice the stunned look on Evelyn's face. "I mean, no thanks. I was supposed to be home a long time ago. See you, Jack. Nice to meet you Miss Evelyn." With that I run out the door and outside. I run all the way across town to my apartment building, panic running through me the whole time.

As I slowly approach the building I think about what's about to happen. My apartment is a dump, even though we've only lived there two days. There will be trash and beer cans everywhere and the mold will still be stuck to the kitchen counter. My father will be drunk, maybe even high on something, and furious that I'm late and wasn't home to make his dinner.

I shudder and dash up the three flights of stairs and stop in front of the door. I take a breath and try to calm my mind, and then I open it. I fall to the floor as soon as I enter from my father's fist colliding with my face. He grabs me by the arm and pulls me up off the floor.

"Where have you been?" he screams. I look up at him, blood trickling from my nose, and try to explain, only be to cut off by more screaming and a few more punches. Then he drags me into my bedroom and shoves me inside. At least tonight wasn't as bad as I expected.

I come to school the next day with a new black eye. I tried to cover it with makeup, but I didn't have enough. I know Jack will ask, so I try to come up with some excuses while I wait in our first hour class for him. I don't want to lie to him, I really don't, but he won't understand. It's always the same.

I look up from my desk as he comes in late, and I determine that this is a habit of his. He sits down in his desk and looks at me. "Hey."

"Hey."

"What the hell happened to your face?" He sounds concerned. Here it is, my big lie. "Nothing, I just got jumped on the way home from your house yesterday." He looks me dead in the eyes, sighs, and turns around. I know he doesn't believe me.