A/N: the plot of the idea was based on a weird dream I had. The characters are OOC.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Except Jordan and Melanie. Don't sue me.

Chapter One

Your parents always tell you to never lie, no matter what; that it's the wrong thing to do and that you'd be punished if they caught you lying. Of course you don't listen and told as you liked to call them, "little white lies". And of course you got caught and were punished like promised. But the one thing your parents failed to teach you was, what do you do when you catch them in a lie? What do you do when they lie about your very existence? It all started two years ago....

(Flashback-2 years ago)

"Kate, quick question, "Claire Miller, my best friend since fourth grade began, "Strawberry banana, or watermelon kiwi?" She was referring to the two fruity lip glosses held in her hand. Honestly, it didn't matter which one she wore, her lips would still look the same, but to her, it was a matter of life and death.

"Umm.... strawberry banana, definitely," I piped up, twirling a strand of my dark blonde hair.

"Hey Kate," Amy, my annoying older cousin burst into my bedroom door.

"Ugh," I sucked my teeth. "Do you ever knock?"

"Anyways," Amy ignored me. "Your mom's on the phone, she wants to talk to you." Amy rolled her eyes at me as she walked out my door. Ever since I was a little girl, my parents were always never in the house, always on "important" business trips, leaving me alone with...Amy. Instead of hiring a stranger to baby-sit me, they hired my cousin Amy, which they thought was a way of making up for always being gone. I wish they 'd hired the stranger.

"I'll be right back," I told Claire, walking out my door. As I walked down the stairs, I heard Amy giggle and another voice. A male's voice. "Just great," I mumbled under my breath. "Scott's here." Scott was Amy's boyfriend, and also her smoking buddy. Whenever he's around, Amy gets ten times bitchier. I ran into the kitchen, and picked up the phone off of the receiver.

"Hello?"

"Hey darling," my mom started. ""How are you?"

"I'm doing great mom," I piped up. Sometimes I just wanted to tell her that she actually has a daughter who doesn't like the idea of her parents always being gone. A daughter who just for once, would like the parents who were always on her case, parents like Lizzie McGuire's. But then reality would hit home and I'd remember neither my mom nor dad would care either way. They would be to wrapped up in their own lives to listen to a word I say.

"Anyways, your father and I were thinking, since you're sixteen now, that maybe you'd like to go on a little family trip this weekend," my mom proposed. "Just the three of us."

I was thrilled. "Of course, mom, I'd love to."

"Alright, sweet heart, we'll have Henry come pick you up at ...oh...let's say eight tomorrow morning?" my mom suggested.

"Great," I exclaimed.

"Alright pookie, see you later. I love you," my mom said.

"I love you too," I hung up. I hummed a happy tune as I started to climb up the stairs.

"Hey dickface!" Amy yelled, "Why are you so happy?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" I scoffed as I ran up to my room. "Claire," I said thrilled, "you've got to help me pack."

"For what?" she questioned, closing her Seventeen magazine.

"My mom just called, and said that her and my dad are taking me on one of their trips with them!"

"Yay!" Claire piped up. Claire, like me, had parents who were never home, so she saw my opportunity to be with my parents as blessing just like I did. But the funny thing is, that's the last thing I remember about my trip. Until now.

(End of flashback)

The sound of the doorbell ringing woke me out of my peaceful slumber. "Amy," I yelled. "Get the door!" I was only met with the sound of her loud snoring as a response. Aggravated, I crawled out of bed and sauntered down the stairs. I opened the door and was met with a tall, tan muscular, blue-eyed blonde man, who was holding the hand of a little curly blonde, hazel eyed, girl. "Do I know you?" I managed to ask.

"I believe you do, Kate." The man replied. "I'm Jordan Thomas, and this is Melanie, your daughter."

"My daughter?" I asked in confusion.

"Yes, you're daughter. We met in the Bahamas two years ago." Jordan attempted to explain.

"But you don't understand," I stammered, "I don't remember anything about my trip, yet alone you."

"And that's why I'm here, to help you understand." Jordan explained. "May we come in?"

"Sure," I answered stepping back. And that's when everything began.