a/n : dedicated to artmesia cause she's genuinely lovely and cause this girl is as much of a crazy Lana del rey and ed sheeran fanatic as I am.

"ARE YOU ENJOYING THE free space?" Tam asked.

"I don't know," I said, "it feels weird, it's too quiet without them."

"I bet," Dane said, her voice sounded muffled like she was in the middle of eating something. "Sixteen years with five boys had to be so noisy." My suspicion was validated when I heard her swallow her food on the other end of the phone, "See this is why I like being an only child, no noisy siblings. It's a good life."

Being the only girl out of my five older brothers meant that life in the Jensen house was not only difficult but chaotic. Over the years each of the boys had gradually moved out.

Nick, my oldest brother at twenty-six lived in London with his girlfriend of three years. He worked as a journalist, a job he'd been eying since he was seventeen and a job he finally bagged after two years in a crappy marketing agency.

Carlisle, my second eldest brother at twenty-four had moved to Sheffield with his boyfriend of six years, where he worked as a History teacher at a local private school.

Harry, my third eldest brother at twenty-one, was living somewhere in France. He'd dropped out of university last year, a decision that almost gave my mother a heart attack, and decided to travel across Europe instead.

And then finally, there were my twin brothers, Macaulay and Arthur. At eighteen, they were the last of the boys to leave the house. Three weeks ago, when the twins were set to leave for the University of Michigan in the States, Mum had spent almost half-an-hour hugging the boys and blubbering about how much she would miss them. Mac had tried to comfort her but Arthur had been desperate to pry himself away from her vice-like hug because people in the airport were staring at them. I knew the only reason the twins had chosen Michigan was because they, apparently, had it on good authority that the girls there were, and I quote, "filthier than the sewers". I suspected this was bullshit. The girls weren't dirty and my brothers just wanted to get out of England, far enough that Mum couldn't catch wind of the stupid things they would get up to.

I didn't want to but Mum forced me to hug them goodbye when I was content with a punch in the shoulder. I did make them promise to bring me back something from the states.

It was a muddled mixture of relief and anxiety to live in such a vacant house.

"Really?" Tam said, "I would've thought you loved having the house to yourself."

I was in my room, sat cross-legged on my bed as I surfed the internet on my laptop and talked to Dane and Tam on my mobile. I'd changed out of my school uniform about an hour ago. I'd bunched my hair up into a high bun and slipped into some leggings, and one of my many too-big hoodies that had once belonged to one of my older brothers. I probably looked like something that had fallen off the back of a lorry but I couldn't care less.

"No...I..." I paused, "I think I might miss them? Oh God. It's barely been a month and I already miss Mac and Arthur. God help me."

Dane made a fake gagging noise, "God help you indeed."

"Dane don't act like you don't miss them," Tam said, I could hear the all-knowing smile in her voice.

"Yeah," I grinned, "especially Mac."

"Pft. I have no idea what you're talking about."

"How about the fact you and Mac totally made out before he left for uni?" Tam said, "Don't try to deny it, we all saw you. You looked so love sick it was almost disgusting."

It was true. About a week before Mac was due to leave for uni with Arthur, Tam and I had walked in on Mac and Dane in the living room, in the middle of a make out session when they were meant to be watching Hollyoaks. I'd never seen either of them look so embarrassed.

"What's going on with you two anyway?" I asked. Mac and Dane had a weird will-they-won't-they relationship for the past year and a half.

"Nothing," she answered, "we agreed to just be friends, it doesn't matter anyway, he's all the way in the U.S now with all the pretty American girls so...yeah. Can we talk about something else now?"

I'd warned Dane not to get involved with Mac, he had a bad record with girls since he had a tendency to break hearts.

"Uh, how was your footy match then?" Tam asked, sensing the sour mood that had taken over Dane. I found it so weird how easily Mac could affect Dane, he could send her to heaven with a smile or straight hell with one word. God. Having a crush just seemed so...messy. I found myself suddenly hoping I was never cursed with such a thing. Love was just another problem I didn't want in my life.

"No, we didn't win," I said, my fingers danced along the keys of the laptop and hitting enter, I logged onto my twitter account. I might as well check out what other people were up to this fine and rainy Friday evening. Huh. As I scrolled down the newsfeed it made me happy to see that, just like me, everybody else had a pretty shit day.

"Aw, that's a shame," Tam said. "Well, there's always next year."

I said, "The weather was so bad and we had this massive arsehole for a referee who knew jack shit about football."

Dane spoke up, "Tam, why didn't you come?"

"I have to babysit my little brothers and plus, I didn't fancy standing in the rain for like ninety minutes."

"Oh my God," I said, "You guys will never guess what happened to day."

I went on to tell them about the horrible events of this afternoon and when I finished speaking, Tam gasped and said, "He cut your hair?"

"And he ate my cake, Tam, my cake! You know how my grandma only makes that ginger cake, like, once every blue moon."

"Did you strangle him?" Dane asked, "I would have strangled him, I mean, what kind of creep does that? I bet he sniffed your hair right after."

"That arsehole..." Tam said, "Wait, isn't this the guy your mum told me would be staying with you for a while?"

I blinked, "She told you?"

"Yeah, she kept telling you but you were too concerned about the footy match to care," she said, "Oh shit, how old is he? Is he cute?"

I shrugged, "Seventeen? Eighteen? I don't know, I don't have the magical ability to immediately tell someone's age by just looking at them."

Tam laughed, "Wow, you're in a mood today aren't you?"

"Shut up," I grumbled. Maybe I should have gone to Kopov's party after all.

"What's he like? Is he cute? El, tell me, is he cute?" Tam asked.

"Tamara, is that all you care about? How cute this guy is?" I said, "He's a prick, that's all you need to know. I can't believe mum gave him Carlisle's bedroom, she said it would be mine."

"Huh, so, what's his name?" Dane asked.

I sighed as I was reluctant to tell them. "Elliot," I grumbled.

Dane said, "What?"

I rolled my eyes. "Elliot," I said, "the prick's name is Elliot."

"As if!" Tam said as she started laughing.

Dane chuckled, "That's brilliant. Absolutely brilliant."

After my mum had forced me to apologise to Elliot, I had to lead him to Carlisle's old bedroom which was located all the way at the end of the unnecessarily long hallway. He'd stepped into the room with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his leather jacket as he wordlessly inspected the room. I was still pretty bitter about the fact she'd given him Carlisle's room. I mean, I'd been asking to move in for months but Mum always said it was for guests or when Carlisle came back to visit.

She did say I could have any of the other boys' rooms but they weren't as spacious or nice as Carlisle's. A few seconds had passed before Elliot nodded and then shooed me out of the room. He'd slammed the door in my face, merely an inch away from knocking me out.

"Shit, guys, I need to go," Tam said sounding a little panicked, "I can hear the cat screeching and I think my brothers are shaving it again, I gotta go!"

She ended the call before I had the chance to reply.

Dane laughed, "What is it with her brothers and that cat?"

"We should call RSPCA."

I went back to roaming aimlessly on twitter and I frowned when I saw the new picture O'Connor had posted on his twitter. He was in Kopov's living room, it looked packed with lots of people from school I vaguely recognised and the boys from the footy team. O'Connor had his arms around these two girls from my Psychology class, Danielle Richmond and Hannah Soltan. He grinned at the camera as both girls kissed his cheeks. He looked like he'd died and gone to heaven. I could already tell that come Monday, this party was the only thing him and Finley would be able to talk about. How many girls they'd pulled, how many times they'd drawn on Goodwin when she'd passed out from drinking, how bad the hangover had been...blah, blah, blah.

"Hey Dee," I said, "Why didn't you go to Kopov's party? O'Connor said you'd be there."

"Work called me up after I left the dentist," she said, "They want me in the restaurant first thing tomorrow morning. I missed too many shifts so I have to go in tomorrow. Ugh. I wish I was there, it looks mad."

My stomach growled and I groaned, "I'm gonna get some food, I'll talk to you later, Dane."

"Oh wait, wait, wait...Come over to mine tomorrow? I need help with this Psychology essay, I'm so lost. What the hell are SSRIs? How do they help with treating OCD, El? You have to help me."

"Selective Serotonin Reuptake Inhibitors, it can help reduce symptoms by changing the balance of chemicals in your brain," I said, "y'know you should really listen in class Dane."

"Yeah, yeah, so you'll help me?" she said, "Please, El. If I don't get at least a B on this essay my dad won't let me go see Kanye West in December."

Knowing how much Dane loved Kanye West (she was borderline obsessed), I rolled my eyes and said, "Okay, fine but you owe me."

"Yes! I love you," she said, "Great, come over to mine at like seven."

I nodded, "Cool, see you later."

I ended the call and dropped my phone on the bedside table. Having had enough of Twitter and the other drunken pictures O'Connor had posted, I shut my laptop and decided to head downstairs to find some food. I slid off my bed and left my room. My eyes flitted towards the far end of the corridor, where Elliot had taken up shop in Carlisle's old room. As quietly as I could manage, I tiptoed towards his room and paused outside the door. He'd been in there for almost three hours now. What was he doing? I leaned forward and turning my head to the side, I lightly pressed my face against the door. There was only silence. I frowned and closed my eyes. I tried to pick up any sounds but heard nothing. I wondered if he was even there.

My eyes flew open and a sharp shriek left my mouth when I heard shuffling sounds and Elliot's muffled voice on the other side. I pushed myself off the door and ran into the bathroom. I pressed my back against the wall as I heard the door to his room open. He muttered a few curses before closing the door a few seconds later. I poked my head past the doorway and glanced around the hallway. Once I was sure the area was Elliot free, I crept downstairs.

The alluring smell of cooking led me into the kitchen. I found Mum standing by the stove, her mane of curly blonde hair pulled up in a bun and flour dusting her apron as she dropped a clump of chopped onions into the simmering pot.

"Oh my God," I breathed, "Mum are you making Shepard's pie?"

She glanced back at me and nodded, "Yeah...I thought it'd be nice to give Elliot a taste of some traditional British food."

Even though I hadn't tasted every Shepard's pie in the country, I just knew that no one could ever match my mum's. Every Sunday evening when I was a kid, me, my brothers, my parents and our great-aunt Sophia would sit around the dinner table and tuck into the delicious Shepard's pie. Although that tradition kind of came to a halt when Elspeth died five years ago. It just didn't feel the same without her and Mum didn't really feel like making Shepard's pie anymore. She only made it once in a while, usually when my brothers came back to visit.

"Yes!" I hissed as my fist shot into the air.

She shook her head at me but she had a small smile on her face.

"What?" I said.

"Get changed."

"Why?"

"You look homeless," she said, "Do you want Elliot to think we get your clothes from a skip?"

I glanced down at my hoodie and leggings. I didn't see what was wrong with it. I wore this every time I was at home, why did it matter?

"He can piss off, I don't care what he thinks of me," I said.

Mum frowned, "You better be nice to him, I'm sure he may come off as a bit-"

"Of a twat?" I provided.

"No," she said throwing a glare my way, "He may come off a bit...distant but Penelope told me that deep down he's a good lad, he's just a bit misguided is all."

I resisted the urge to scoff. "Uh-huh."

I left the kitchen and walked into the living room. Switching on the TV, I picked up the remote from the low-set glass coffee table and slumped down onto the sofa. I channel-hopped until I settled on a re-run of The Inbetweeners playing on E4. I was half way through the second episode, laughing at the scene where Neil was punching the fish to death when Mum came into the living room.

"Dinner's ready, go fetch Elliot for me will you love?" She said.

I nodded, the smell of the Shepard's pie made my stomach grumble. More than eager to eat, I bolted up from the couch and ran up the stairs. I paused outside his room, hesitant for a moment before I lifted my curled hand and rapidly knocked on the door. I waited. Nothing. I knocked again. Nothing. I knocked. Again nothing. After a minute of this, I booted the door with my foot.

"Fintry!" I called, "Open the damn-"

The door swung open with a loud bang, revealing a rather aggravated looking Elliot Fintry on the other side. Judging from the greatly dishevelled state of his jet black hair and the sleepy look in his dark eyes, I could tell he had just woken up. He had changed out of the leather jacket, jeans and converse ensemble and into a Ramones t-shirt and lowly slung joggers. He folded his arms across his chest as he leaned his shoulder and head against the side of the doorway and glanced wearily down at me.

"Can I help you?" He asked, his voice was low and robotic.

"Dinner's ready."

He just stared at me, unblinking for a few second before he sighed and pushed himself off the wooden panel. He bumped past me, making me stumble a few steps back.

"By the way," he said as he headed towards the stairs, "I know it was you outside my door earlier."

Dinner was proving to be delightfully awkward. For the past fifteen minutes Mum had been trying to ignite some sort of conversation in the stone silence that occupied the dining room. Mum had laid out a great selection of food on the table and I had practically dived for a plate and stockpiled as much of the Shepard's pie as I could. I hadn't stopped shovelling the stuff into my mouth since. Elliot, on the other hand, didn't look even remotely interested in the assortment of Shepard's pie and roasted potatoes on his plate. He was just rolling the vegetables around with his fork and occasionally braving a minuscule taste of the Shepard's Pie.

Ungrateful swine. If he didn't want it, I would gladly have it.

"So, where in America are you from?" Mum asked.

"California," he said.

"Oh, where in California?"

Wow. She must have been desperate for conversations since she already knew the answer to these questions.

"Sacramento."

Elliot sat on the opposite side of the dining table, about two seats to the left. I thought a native Californian like him would be tanned since the climate was pretty warm and sunny there but he had a pale porcelain complexion. His milky white skin was contrasted by his coal black eyes and tousled raven-dark hair. I was finding it hard to even imagine him with a tan. I must have been staring a moment too long because he glanced up. He held my gaze for a few seconds and then cocked an eyebrow at me. I frowned at him and looked away. I went back to stuffing myself with Mum's delicious food.

"We actually went there last summer to visit some family in Del Dayo," Mum said, "So, uh, you live with your mother and sister at home?"

He popped a carrot in his mouth. "Just my mom," he said, "my sister's in college."

"Oh yeah, Violet right? What does she study?"

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes for the umpteenth time that night. Mum was seriously failing to notice that Elliot and I were not interested in making conversation.

"Law."

"Oh wow," she nodded in appreciation, "Uhm, have you ever been to England before?"

"Only once," he said. "London, for this History trip."

"Oh right, did you like it?"

He shrugged. There was a long stretch of silence before Mum spoke up again, "Y'know Manchester's a great city, a lot to do, lots of friendly people."

Elliot didn't say anything.

I wanted to tell her to give up. This boy was a lost cause.

"I'm sure you'll like your new school," she said, "St. George's is the best sixth form college in the city."

I snapped my head up to look at her. My eyes widened. "H-he's going to my sixth form?"

"Of course he is," Mum frowned, "Where else would he go?"

Hell, I thought.

I wanted to protest. I wanted suggest the copious amount of other sixth forms in Manchester he could go it other than St. George's. I really wanted to protest but Mum was giving me a warning glare so I just shut my mouth and went back to eating.

"So, yeah, El here," Mum said nodding her head in my direction, "is in her first year of sixth form at St. George's, so you already have one friend to hang out with."

I snorted in disagreement and I could feel the daggers Mum was sending me. He wasn't my friend and I had no intention of hanging out with him.

"Uh-huh," Elliot said.

Just then, the phone in the living room started ringing. It cut through the awkward silence like an axe. Mum pushed her chair back, "Won't be a moment."

She walked out of the room, leaving Elliot and I alone. In the living room, I heard her pick up the phone and start speaking to whoever it was on the other end. I glanced around at the sparse dinner table. It really was weird. I was so used to dinner times being filled the sound of my brothers and I laughing and trying to speak over each other. I never thought I'd miss pieces of food being slung at me and the boys fighting over who the last piece of chicken belonged to. The bright side was that they would come back for Christmas. Christmas was always hectic and noisy and completely amazing.

My eyes flitted down the dining table and landed on Elliot. He rummaged through his pockets and a second later he pulled out, what looked like, a whiskey flask and quickly poured some of the liquid into the glass of orange juice. He then stuffed the flask back into his pocket.

"Weirdo," I muttered under my breath as I went back to eating my food.

"What?"

I looked at him, "What?"

His eyebrows furrowed as he frowned, "What did you say?"

"Nothing!" I said plastering on the most artificial smile I could muster.

His scowl deepened and he opened his mouth to say something, most indefinitely something rude, but he was cut off by Mum walking back into the room.

"That was your dad, he won't be able to make it tonight," she said as she sat down, "Something about a crisis in Human Resources."

I nodded. Dad was the head of finance at a law firm in central Manchester, so he was always working.

"I'm going to go to sleep, I'm tired," Elliot announced as he stood up from his seat. He trudged out of the living room and shut the door behind him.

Mum sighed.

I pointed to his plate, he hadn't even touched his Shepard's pie. "Can I have it?"

Mum didn't look impressed but she didn't say no either so I took that as a yes. When she passed the plate to me, I grinned and started tucking into his food. Mm. This was so good. Elliot was an idiot to give this up.

"Could you at least have a little decorum?" she asked.

"Decorum is for arseholes with no life, Mum," I said through a mouthful of mince.

I saw the corners of her mouth quirk up into a smile. She chuckled, "Maybe."