So this is my very first fic. I've been reading stories on this site for years and finally decided to take some initiative and contribute to it. This story started out in my head as just a simple love story obviously between Naomi and Emily, but now it's turning into a love story with a bit of a twist. There are going to be supernatural elements to this story that hopefully everyone will enjoy.

PS. I'm not from the UK, I'm from Canada. I'm trying my best to replicate the slang, but I will most likely make mistakes. If I used the wrong word, or used a word out of context, send me a review telling me my mistakes. Also, speaking of, since this is my first story feedback is super welcome. If you like the story tell me, it will encourage me to keep writing :)

Also I cannot take credit for SKINS or any of its characters. If this story ends up resembling other stories, books, TV shows (and it might because some things are similar to other books/ TV shows, but I'm trying to make it as original as possible) I do not take credit for any of their ideas either.

The Cottage Kids

Chapter 1

No amount of experimentation can ever prove me right;

a single experiment can prove me wrong.

~Albert Einstein

Here we go again, she thinks, sitting in the back of a black taxi cab, staring at her what will soon become her new "home". From the exterior, the house seems sweet and cottage-like, a place she could she could really settle down in- a far cry from the places she's usually put in. However, Naomi Campbell knows from experience that appearances don't mean shit.

Naomi was put in her first foster home when she was a young and innocent six and a quarter years old, a month after her parent's death. Ever since, she's been jumping all over England, from one shitty foster home to another. Now she is sixteen, a lot less innocent, and about to meet her twenty-third foster family.

The taxi driver brings her back to reality. "Er, miss? I'm really sorry, but you need to get out now."

"Yeah, right. Sorry." She says, quickly opening the door. She doesn't have to worry about the fare, the taxi was paid for by her social worker. Thank Christ, she doesn't have a penny to her name. She walks around to the back and open up the trunk. It feels like it is the millionth time she's had to take her ratty suitcase out of the back of a taxi and she's sure it won't be the last.

Waving goodbye to the taxi she turns towards the what will be her home.

For about six months. If it even lasts that long.

Her last foster home lasted less than one week, a new record. In 5 days, she had managed to flood their basement, set a tree on fire and get caught shagging in their bed. She didn't care though, they were a couple of wankers; they didn't even call the social worker to come pick her up, or pay for a taxi to get her there when they decided to kick her out. Along with her suitcase, she had to take a two hour trip on the underground all the way across London to get to her social worker. See? Wankers.

When she finally gets to the door, she takes a moment to breathe. This is it. The last moment of freedom. God, I cannot wait until I'm eighteen, she thinks before knocking three times.

While waiting to see who her new "mommy" or "daddy" is, she hears loud voices coming from inside the house. It sounds like, five, maybe eight people. Fucking fantastic. More kids means more stress, which is definitely bad news. She waits, but she can't hear any sign that anyone noticed her knocking. Fuck sakes. She tries again, this time knocking harder and louder.

The voices go quiet, and she can hear footsteps approaching the door. Here we go. It opens, and standing there is a short woman, with faded blonde hair, and a large, friendly grin plastered on her face. "Naomi Campbell, we've been expecting you," she exclaims, laughing a little afterwards.

"Never thought I would say that." She looks Naomi up and down, who can only give a wide-eyed stare in return. Oh jesus, it's one of these women. The savior type. The "Call me mom" type. Well, isn't she in for a surprise.

"Well don't just stand there. Come in!" She waves Naomi into the house.

"Yeah, that's me. Naomi." She sets her suitcase down and takes a look around at her new residence.

From the entryway she can see right into the living room- which isn't full of people like she expected. Where were those voices coming from? Anyways, the house is surprisingly warm and... comfortable. The walls are painted with deep purples and yellows, there are too many art pieces to count, and each looks like it was brought here from a different country. Beads hang from almost every doorway and cushions and beanbags take the place of regular couches and chairs. This looks like a great house at first glance, but first impressions are almost always wrong.

"Welcome to Greenacres Cottage Naomi. My name is Gina."

She remembers one family that was just like this. Friendly and warm, with a nice house and lots of food. Or at least it seemed that way in the beginning. Turns out the dad had a bit of an anger management problem. The happy family routine was put on for the social worker. Lots of families do this. All they want is a check at the end of the month.

"Nice to meet you." She gives a curt smile. This won't last long.

Gina smiles warmly at the young girl. "Let me show you to your room. I'll take that." She takes her suitcase and leads Naomi up a gigantic wooden staircase. They go down a hallway adorned with dozens of picture frames containing, what looked like pictures of a happy family. Three boys, four girls and Gina- on beaches, camping, in front of the Eiffel tower... What kind of foster parent is this? Naomi follows the strange woman into a room with two double beds.

"I'm sorry that I could not give you your own room. It's hard to believe that in such a big house we would still be so tight on space," she says, laughing at her own joke and putting her suitcase on the bed on her side of the room. The other side of the room is an utter disaster. There are clothes sprawled all over the floor, make up cluttered over the dresser and posters of bands Naomi has never heard of half hanging off the walls. Her side looked like a hotel room it was so tidy.

"But I'm sure you will get along just fine with your room mate. I'll let you settle in before introducing you to the rest of the gang. Make yourself at home Naomi. I'm so glad you're here." She gives her an excited hug and leaves Naomi alone in her new bedroom.

She sits on her bed and sighs. She's lived in bad places. In the homes of drunks, addicts, abusers. However, these homes are the worst. The lovely ones that make you comfortable and then ultimately disappoint you. Oh well, she didn't plan on staying long enough to get attached. Leave before things get bad is her strategy. She doesn't even unpack her suitcase, she just shoves it under the bed.

After a few minutes, long enough for it to seem like she unpacked her things and "made herself at home", Naomi leaves her room and tries to find her way back downstairs.

Alright down this hallway, and turn uh.. left? Nope not that way, other left. Okay this looks familiar. Jesus, how big is this house? Ah! Finally found the bloody staircase.

She walks down the stairs unsuspecting, into the living room which is now full of teenagers- and Gina-sitting on the cushions and beanbags, and all seven pairs of eyes directed towards the platinum blonde.

"Uh... hi."

Gina stands up and puts an arm around her waist. "Everyone, this is Naomi. The newest member of our family."

Shit. What the fuck is this place? Some kind of cult?

"Sit, sit Naomi, I'll go fetch some tea while you get to know everyone alright?"

Naomi nods and goes over to the yellow beanbag Gina was just sitting in. She looks around at the people staring at her. They all look about the same age. Farthest from her is a boy with sandy blonde hair and a stained T-shirt looking at her like she's a piece of meat. I'll stay away from that one. Next is a tanned boy with floppy black hair, who looks completely out of it. Alright well I know where I'm getting my spliff then. There's a sweet looking boy with curly brown hair and braces, a girl with extremely colourful clothing bouncing up and down on her cushion and a girl with deep purple hair wearing a quite revealing top.

Then she comes upon a girl with the most striking blue eyes she has ever seen. Its more than that though. They look like they can pierce straight though her skin. Like they can see her lungs expanding, the blood pumping through her heart, the neurons firing in her brain. Its uncanny and Naomi can't stand to look at her for long.

Finally she rests her eyes upon a girl, who looks almost exactly like the girl with the purple hair, except that she has red hair. The most vibrant red hair she's ever seen, and the kindest eyes she's ever peered into. Nothing like the other girl's eyes. No. This girl is different. All she is doing is smiling and Naomi can feel her stomach turning into knots. Oh shit.

"Why are we all just sittining here staring at each other like a bunch of mongs. Jesus. Let's introduce ourselves like polite people, yeah?" The girl with the purple hair says, giving the others dirty looks. "I'm Katie, nice to meet you. This is-"

Before she could finish her sentence, the boy with sandy blonde hair interrupts her.

"James Cook. Everyone calls me Cook though. Eventually you will get to know me as the best shag you've ever had." He smiles and wags his eyebrows.

"Not likely." Naomi says to him, pressing a smile between her lips.

He gets a smack behind the head by the boy with floppy hair. "Sorry 'bout him. Was raised in a brothel him. Name's Freddie McClair. Welcome to the Cottage. Over there is JJ." He points to the boy with the floppy hair. "I'll save him the embarrassment of introducing himself, he gets nervous around pretty girls, but he's a really great guy once you get to know him. So am I. Cook too believe it or not."

Naomi couldn't help but smile. She'll get along with him alright. She could tell.

"Panda!"

Naomi jumps and turns her head to look at the source of the shout, which is of course, the colourful one.

"Oh sorry. Didn't mean to make you wet your willies. I'm just super flipping excited. It's been ages since we've had a new one. I'm Panda. Short for Pandora, but no one calls me Pandora. Well, you can if you want I guess. Whatever you like."

"Nice to meet you... Panda." Naomi chuckles at Panda's beaming face. She seems lovely, a little odd, but very sweet.

"Oh and this is my best friend Effy." Panda points to the girl with the striking blue eyes.

"Hey." Is all she says. Well aren't you just a big ball of sunshine.

Naomi nods in return.

"Well wasn't that lovely Effy. She's your bloody roommate and you couldn't say more than one word to her." Effy just cocks her head to the side and smirks at Katie. Should have known I would have to room with this freak.

"Anyways, as I was going to say before I was rudely interrupted," Katie looks pointedly at Cook who just grins at her. "This is my twin, Emily." She waves her hand towards the red-haired goddess beside her.

Emily. Who knew a simple five letter word could sound so perfect.

"Hello." She says softly, and it feels like velvet in Naomi's ear.

"Yeah. Er, I mean hi." She stammers. What the fuck. She's never been this nervous around a girl. This is bad.

Before Naomi has a chance to humiliate herself further in front of the red head, Gina walks back into the room with a tray full of tea cups and a kettle. "Back again darlings. I assume all the awkward introductions have taken place." Everyone laughs and nods. Happy fucking family. This is weird.

"Good! Now let's drink this tea before it cools, then we can give Ms. Campbell here the grand tour of Greenacres."

Oh Christ, why did she have to say her last name. Fuck. Everyone is laughing now.

"Gina you didn't tell us Naomi Campbell was coming to live with us! I would have at least put on a better shirt." Cook laughs.

"Oh don't be rude James. It's an unfortunate coincidence that Naomi happens to share her name with such a... big star." Gina's words didn't help at all, in fact it only spurred on their laughter, and Naomi's embarrassment.

"Everyone stop laughing now." This finally makes everyone shut up. "We want to make Naomi feel comfortable and welcome here. I can tell her embarrassing stories about you if that's what you want."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Gina, Gina, Gina. We were just having a laugh. Just a bit of fun that's all, right Naomi?" Naomi nods. As much as she'd like to hear those stories, she wants to get on their good side, and getting them in trouble is no way to do that. "See? No need to get rash."

"Gina how about we get started on that tour now, yeah?" She says to the woman, trying to show that it didn't bother her any.

"Yes dear. You're right. Let's go." After glaring at her foster children, she begins to lead the group through the house, showing Naomi the purpose of every room, and the history of every nail and floorboard.

It was build in 1876, by the hands of Gina's very own great-great-great grandfather and has never left the family since. It has survived two fires, three lightening strikes, a fallen tree and a bat infestation. Naomi finds it fascinating, she loves old buildings, but the others don't look quite as interested; having most likely heard these tales more than once already. They entertain themselves however, by telling Naomi stories and secrets about the house. Like where the liquor is hidden, which areas of the floor squeak loud enough to wake people up, and about that one time JJ got himself locked in a cupboard for half a day and had to relieve himself in a mason jar.

It's fun. Genuinely fun. The kind Naomi hasn't experienced in years. Recently, her definition of fun has been getting wasted and shagging the nearest body she could find. But here she is, laughing and joking with seven strangers- her new foster brothers and sisters. She can't help but let her walls crumble and her hopes rise. Only a little bit though. Can't be too careful. However, Naomi wonders if this could be the last foster home she ever lives in. It's a scary, but nice thought.

When Naomi finally gets back to her room, she is exhausted. It was a long day; all she wants to do is sleep. But instead of crawling underneath the inviting sheets of her new bed, she takes out her suitcase, and unpacks her belongings.