My brother had always been the dark horse of the family. We never really knew quite what he was doing, or quite how he was earning enough money to own his own home at 23 and drive a car worth about the same as someone's college fund. We never met any of the illusive friends he had back when he was living at home, or knew how he managed to graduate top of his class without really studying all that much. He fed us enough information to stop most of the questions, but I still had a very vague idea about his life away from home.

All of which was super comforting as I sat in the passenger seat of my mother's old Toyota, getting further and further away from home. Or, what used to be my home. Until the French invaded our house.

Not that I'm bitter. Why would I be bitter? It's not like my mother and I were living a perfectly happy, normal life, in a normal town with normal people. Then that French asshole waltzed into mom's store, into our lives and didn't leave.

I'm sure most French people are lovely. My old French teacher, for example, was like a saint sent from above, gently dragging me through the past year of French, pretending my pronunciation wasn't the same as fingernails on a chalkboard. But this man, Louis, was an arrogant, racist, pathetic excuse for a human. And he had my mother head over heels.

This was his plan all along - get me, the annoying child, out of the way so he can live his selfish, decadent life the way he pleases. With my mother by his side, of course.

When they sat me down to tell me they were moving to France, mom insisted I go with them. One look at that pompous baguette's face was enough to tell me that was not happening. Besides, I wouldn't last one day in a non-English speaking country. I passed French by one mark, and I'm sure that was only because the teacher took pity on me.

That night was fun. Lots of screaming, crying, ultimatums and door slamming. Long story short, I'm moving in with my older brother and finishing high school under his care, while my mom and Louis move to France. I was definitely unhappy about moving schools, but moving cities is nowhere near as bad as moving countries, so I wasn't complaining anymore.

I know my mom felt guilty about leaving me, but I also knew she was ecstatic about moving. She'd always dreamed of so much more than getting pregnant with my brother at 17, and when my dad died when I was three, she was left alone. I wasn't resentful of her, but that goddamned Louis.... Ugh.

My mom was rattling off instructions in the driver's seat next to me. "One word from your brother and you will be put on the next flight to Paris"... "Make sure Alex feeds you and doesn't spend the money I'll be giving him on anything stupid"... "Honey if you can call me every week with updates on your brother I'd be really grateful, that boy is a mystery to me." I fielded her constant nervous chatter with the occasional, 'yes mom', 'no mom' and that was enough to keep her happy.

The three hour car ride felt like an eternity, and I could not be happier when I saw the first signs of civilisation emerge from the forest we'd been driving through for the last hour and a half. I'd never been to my brother's place before; all I knew was it was a moderate sized town bordered by dense forest and an ocean. Alex had told me it was quite quiet at winter, but really got busy during summer, which made a lot of sense.

After getting lost down many, many streets, we finally pulled into my brother's long driveway and parked at the front of his house.

"Woah," I exhaled, looking out at his house. It was one of those double story houses made mainly from glass, that looked like squares stacked on top of each other. Okay so I'm not great at architecture explanations, so just take my word that this house was modern but rustic, in a way that I would not have expected Alex to own.

"How does he live with such a lack of privacy? Anyone walking past would be able to see right in!" Mom said, eyebrows furrowed.

"Mom, did you not see that massive driveway we just went down? Literally no one would be down here."

I got out of the car and was hit by fresh air and the smell of nature. Ah, fresh nature. Something we didn't get in my town, where the weather was at a constant 'dry heat' mood. Fresh was hard to achieve, overpopulation and pollution and all. A strange feeling of anticipation crept up my spine, mostly excitement with a tinge of something darker. I didn't get long to dwell on that though, as my brother was suddenly in front of me.

"Danielle," he grinned as he approached me, his deep voice full of mischief.

"Alexander," I greeted back with his full name and a twinge of annoyance in my voice. We both didn't like going by our full names - more than two syllables was a hassle.

I bounced the two steps between us and threw my arms around him. I may not have always understood what he did, but I loved my older brother and I seriously missed him when he moved out.

"Hey kid, good to see you," he laughed, stumbling slightly under the force of my hug. "Hey mom, you good?"

"Alexander, honey." Mom pried me off and squeezed her only son.

"You coming in?" He asked, when mom had finally done inspecting every visible inch of him, asking if he was eating well and making sure all limbs were intact.

Mom looked at me with her guilty puppy dog eyes. "I really can't, the plane is leaving tonight and Louis needs me to run a few errands."

I rolled my eyes at Alex. "Go, mom. And for the last time, stop feeling guilty. I know I'm welcome to go with you. You're not abandoning me. I still love you." The amount of times I'd had to reassure this woman... She should be the one reassuring me!

"Oh Danni, promise me you'll be good." She engulfed me in a choking hug. "Keep your head down and just get through the school year - don't drink, don't do drugs, don't get involved with any boys."

"Mom, please." I groaned. "I'm almost 18, I know how to not get arrested."

Alex snorted, leaning on the hood of the car. Mom pulled me back against her, and I mouthed 'help' at him over mom's shoulder. He just laughed, shrugging in a 'what can I do about it' way.

He let me suffer for a few seconds more, then got up and put a hand on mom's shoulder. "Mom, she's going to be fine. I promise. We'll even set up a curfew. 8pm on weekends."

My jaw dropped, but I was stopped from complaining as he winked at me.

"That sounds like a good idea," mom sniffed. "Both of you, call me if you need anything. I'll miss you. I love you both."

"Love you too mom," I hugged her once more before pushing her gently towards the car. Alex grabbed my bags out the boot while I consoled our crying mother, and finally, after about ten minutes of convincing, we were left alone.

I let out a shaky breath. "I love that woman, but she is a lot."

Alex laughed, and nodded towards the house. "C'mon, let's go inside. Hey for real though, I know Louis is a piece of shit and all, but are you okay?"

Following him up the path, I sighed. "Yeah. Well as okay as you can be moving towns and schools in your last year of high school, with your mother kidnapped by a French douchebag."

"Hey school will be okay, it's a pretty...close community round here."

"Alex? Thank you so much for letting me stay."

He turned and grinned at me. "Don't mention it. And besides, I can't promise I'll be around all that much, so I can trust you to be sensible and all that shit right? But if you do have a problem, come to me. Promise?"

"Promise."

Alex had a beautiful house. The decor was exactly what you'd expect a guy living in his early 20's to be, but just a tiny more sophisticated. He'd obviously had help with my room, which I would grill him on later. The room was decked out in various shades of white, with a large double bed, huge dresser, desk, rug, mirror, all in a similar set out to how I'd had it at home. I was touched with how he'd remembered and gone to such an effort for me.