I wouldn't say I was normal, but I can't say I'm crazy. I'm kind of both, I guess you could say. But according to my family, I'm a complete and utter whack job. They wanted nothing to do with me. So, when I was in 7th grade, they sent me away from our little town of Hampton to live in San Francisco.

There, I lived with my aunt and uncle, and they showed me this love that I knew I would never experience with my real family. When my parents realized what a good daughter I had become, they wanted me back. Is that messed up or what?

By then, it was the summer of my junior year. Soon to be my final year at San Francisco High School. I had a good life in San Francisco, and I was pretty happy I left Hampton. But then, my parents managed to ruin everything. Again.

"Jordan?" my aunt said, knocking on my door. I looked up from my painting and turned around to face her. From my window, I had a beautiful view of the San Francisco Bay and it was because of that I developed a love for the arts.

"Yeah?" I responded.

"I need you to come downstairs for a second. I want to introduce you to some company."

I shrugged and followed her, placing the half finished painting against the window. Walking down the stairs, I noticed two adults sitting in the parlor, hands tightly clasped together.

"Bridget, Thomas, this is Jordan. Jordan," my aunt breathes in deeply. "They're your parents."

I stared at them intently, staring at them for who knows how long. 4 years, 4 years they kicked me out. Now, they expect to just come out of nowhere and think everything's going to be perfectly fine? If that's what's going on in there mind, I really don't think I could last living with them for one more year.

"Huh, really?" I finally scoffed. "My parents. My parents who kicked me out of the house four years ago and sent me to the other side of the country. My parents who only want me back because I'm no longer fucked up. My parents who only want me because I'm smart. My parents who don't give a shit about who I am. Yeah, great parents those are."

I went to turn back into my room, but my uncle stood there, staring me down from the stairs. Let's just say he had the ability to make me do things, without talking. It's pretty scary how much authority he has over this household without speaking more than 20 words a day. And trust me, this house was chaotic!

I reluctantly turned to face my… parents, who sat there looking at me hopefully. "What?" I finally said.

Bridget, not Mom, spoke in a low sweet voice, her eyes watering over. "I know this may be hard on you, but we want you to come back and live with us in Hampton."

That was the last straw. "No. You expect me to come back to you just because you're my real family? Well, you sure haven't been acting like one. Aunt Jeramie is a better mom than you ever will be! If you want me to go back, you'll have to talk to her first." I snapped, and pushed past my uncle.

I heard the four adults shouting my name, but I paid no heed and slammed my bedroom door. I looked at the unfinished painting of the bay, leaning against my window. Grabbing the pencil on my desk, I stabbed the canvas over and over again, until all that was left was a shredded canvas.

I looked down at the remaining pieces, thinking how only earlier this morning; I had decided this would be the masterpiece of my life. How quick all that could change…

I hate my life. Just when I finally get settled in, I'm forced to leave. First Hampton, now San Francisco. What's next?!

Unfortunately, Aunt Jeramie had decided it was time for me to return to my family. My real family. I had no choice but to go along with her decision, I respected and loved her that much. I was on the airplane by now, heading back to the little town of Hampton.

Hampton, there's not much I remember about it. I spent most of my time at-

"Jordan?" Thomas said, cutting me off from my thoughts. I looked up at him, giving him permission to continue. "I understand you hate us now, first for kicking you out, then dragging you back. We understand. But please, just make this year your best. I want you to be able to live your own life, because now I know what you are capable of doing."

He now officially has the rights of being called Dad.

I nodded at him then turned my attention back to the TV. 50 First Dates. Not a bad movie. Just as I got really into the movie, my dad taps me on the shoulder. Again.

"You do remember Aidan, right?" I nodded. My twin brother, how could I forget? He was the only one that had understood me then, even if it was when we were in 7th grade. He never ratted me out; in fact he never tried pushing me away from my decisions. He lived with them, even though he hated everything I did. But that's why I loved him so, because he respected me.

"He's excited to see you again. He also told me to tell you that he really misses you, because you never answered a single letter he sent you." he grinned.

I flinched unintentionally. When I first arrived at San Francisco, I was depressed beyond my mind. I read all his letters, but I never made any move to respond to them. By the time I was in a better mood, I remembered I had thrown away all his letters. God, I feel like such a bitch…

"Yeah." I sighed. "That was an accident…"

I leaned my head back against the chair, letting the pillow cushion my head. In a few hours, I would have to go back to Hampton. The one place I thought I'd never see again. Was it a good idea for me to come back? What would everyone think about me? Would my… bad choice… going to make everyone hate me? Goddamn it, I really do hate myself.

Our car pulled up into a very… very… cozy? I guess I could say that. It was a cozy house. Yeah, I bet you thought I was going to say mansion, right? Well, that's somewhat right. Hampton has been known for being a rich/preppy town, which is correct on half of it. We are not preppy. So maybe most of us are, but not all. It's split about 50/50, but that doesn't really matter to us.

All the houses in Hampton were nice and big, so you really couldn't compare it to other houses in the town. Now, if you go to the town next to ours, then that's when the difference comes in.

But enough about that.

I walked up the front steps and through the door, which my dad had conveniently left open for me. I could hear the sounds of screaming and cursing from upstairs, which did not give me a very good first impression of our family.

The door was slightly open and I could see 3 guys huddled around the TV, screaming profanity at each other. Boys and their video games; it was pathetic how obsessed some could be about them.

Bridget stood by one of the doors, pointing inside. She smiled at me tightly. "This is your new room. We moved to a different house, so I figured you wouldn't know where to go." I nodded curtly and put my stuff down on the floor. It was a nice room, just like the one I had back in San Francisco.

I headed towards the window, and pulled back the blinds, taking in the view. The house was located at High Point, the richest part of Hampton. It was located high up in the mountains, hence the name, and gave me a beautiful view of Hampton and Providence, the town next to ours.

I turned back around to Bridget and smiled gratefully. "Thank you." I whispered.

Her smile relaxed as she held out her arms. "No, thank you for coming back." I hesitantly walked into her arms, and I felt her chest heave with emotion.

After a few moments, she pulled away and gave me another smile before walking back downstairs. "Your brother is in the den." she said simply.

I walked quietly down the hall, approaching the still rowdy room. I pushed open the door, looking at the three guys in there. None of them turned in my direction, so I just stood there, wondering how long it would take before one of them noticed me.

I took in their appearances, wondering which one was Aidan. I instantly recognized him. The same blondish-brown hair as mine, and the same steel gray eyes I was known for back in San Francisco. Unless it was some freak in nature, I knew that had to be him.

"Who's the chick?" one of the guys, not Aidan, spoke up. The other two paused the game and looked at me.

"I don't know." the other guy said.

"You're hot." Aidan chirped up. I had to start laughing right there. There was nothing to stop that. Did he even know he was hitting on his own blood? The person that shared the same womb when we were still unborn babies? I guess not.

"Aidan, you're fucked up." another guy says, walking into the room. "That's your fucking twin."

I looked at the guy. He looked oddly familiar, but I couldn't pick it up. He looked at me and smiled. "Don't tell me you don't remember me." When I shook my head, he gasped mockingly. "Your cousin David? Come on! I didn't know you had such fucked up memory."

Memories flooded back to me. He was the only one there for me before San Francisco. Even when I reached there, he continued trying to contact me, though I ignored his calls, e-mails, IM's, letters, whatnot. Eventually, he just showed up at the doorstep, and that's when I realized I was hurting not only myself, but everyone else around me.

"Hey." I laughed and pulled him into a hug. "I owe you big time." I whisper into his ear.

"Nooo." he laughed deeply. "Being happy again, that was your gift to me. And that's just the way I love you."

See, this is why I love David so much.

I pulled away from him and looked at the guys. Aidan was staring at me in shock. "I just said my twin was hot. I feel like a fucking bastard." he kept muttering to himself over and over again. Eventually, I was sick of his ranting and pulled him into a hug.

"Your not one. Don't worry."

"You're not leaving again, are you?" he said quietly.

"No, I'm not. I never will." I replied back just as softly.

And I knew this time, I never would.


Haha, do you like this story so far? Trust me, even though this part is quite emotional, things will begin to get more light-hearted and comical. P So it's all good. Thank you all for reading You Are My Addiction. It really brightens my day to see reviews like those. If you haven't read it yet, go ahead! I'm not forcing you to.