New Step-Brother? Things Just Got a lot More Complicated.

"Mom," I stared at the mirror image in front of me. She had the long straight blonde hair like myself, and those big blue eyes framed by long dark lashes. I exhaled, trying to register her words.

"What are you saying.." I spoke slowly, my heart racing with every word I spoke.

My mother smiled proudly, and held her hands tightly in her lap as she sat in front of me.

"Him and his family are coming to live with us from New Jersey." My jaw dropped as I stared at her incandescent image in front of me. I balled my fists by my side, and bit my lip down hard enough that I knew it was to bleed.

"What are you saying," I repeated, feeling tears threaten to spill.

"Honey, Scott's going to live with us." I yelled as she just smiled at me. I was breaking down in front of her, crawling to my knees and crying. I didn't want this- I didn't want a new family, new siblings, or a new father- I wanted my old father back, not an imposter.

She simply patted my back, whispering "It's okay, honey, you'll get over it." before leaving me in my puddles of tears that were staining the living room carpet.

"This isn't fair!" I yelled at her as I could hear her heels click upstairs.

My fingers curled into the carpet, ripping out only little fuzzes of carpet. I groaned, my throat aching and my heart aching just as well. My tears streamed down my cheeks as I tried to regain my breath. I leaned against the living room couch, starring up at the plastered white ceiling.

"No, no, no.." I mumbled to myself, trying to erase what just happened. "This can't be happening, no!" I yelled, hoping my mother would hear me.

I closed my eyes, wishing I could just fast forward and leave for college. The only problem? High School had just started for me- I was a freshman, and I had three more years of this hell hole.

I opened my eyes, and gathered my broken pieces as I walked towards the door to see the only person who I could right now- my father.

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I didn't have to knock, or yell through his door. He was my father, and he was sure use to me just barging in at the worst of times.

It was silent when I walked into his apartment- no T.V. on as usual, no kitchen stove crackling as he cook, and definitely no company. "Daddy?" I called, feeling like my little five year old self when my life all fell apart. "Dad?" I called again, leaving my purse, filled with enough money for a bus ride home, on his granite countertops.

"Cam?" I heard someone call from the den. I sighed happily, seeing he was here. I maneuvered myself around the tight hallways, and eventually found him in 'work-mode' with his glasses tight on the brim of his nose, and his face buried in the Stock Market statistics.

"Dad, he's coming to live with us."