My stepbrother

                    Maija

 "Mom, where should I put these boxes?" I ask as I walk into the huge entrance of our new home. I have still not come to terms with living in a house big enough to be a small hotel. 

    "Just leave them in here, for now, honey." 

    I drop the boxes, returning outside for more, when I see a black Jaguar pull up in the driveway behind the moving truck. I have no interest in the car or the person driving it, figuring they must be a friend of my stepfather’s, so instead of gawking, I grab some boxes for my room and make my way into the house.

    "Everything ok?"

    I spin at the sound of his voice, Charles, my new stepfather. My mother married him within twenty-four hours of their meeting in Vegas. They called it a whirlwind romance. That was three months ago, so we're still getting to know each other. 

    "Yup, just a couple more boxes left. The movers took care of the larger items," I reply, beaming. Although I had not known him long, I could tell he was a good man and that he truly loved my mother– even if I was skeptical when she came home with a ring on her finger and a new husband when she had left home three days earlier a single woman. I can see why my mother is attracted to him; he was a silver fox, grey all over, muscular with light grey eyes. My mother told me he had a son who was a year older than me; I whispered a silent prayer that he somehow lost the lottery at the gene pool and he was nothing like his father. He clears his throat, cutting through my thoughts, and looks at me with concern.

    "How are you handling the move? Your mother and I uprooted your life when we fell in love. You had to move and leave your friends. It would make sense if you were not happy with us right now."

    I smile at him. This is one reason I like him; he cares about me as a person and does not see me as just my mother's daughter. He wants to know how I feel about everything, but he really has nothing to worry about. I was never close enough with my friends to care that much about being separated from them. Mom and I moved around a lot before she finished dental school and established her practice in Connecticut, so I was used to moving. 

    "I'm fine, Charles, you don't have to worry about me.  I never went through an emotionally unstable teenager phase, and I don't think I will start now. I'm easy. If mom's happy, then so am I."

    "Your mother did say you were very mature. Perhaps you can be a good influence on my son."

    I smile and nod. Yeah, hopefully, that is all I do to him, I muse before giving him a quick hug scurrying back down the stairs. 

    "Zayne just arrived, get him to help you," he shouts after me. Zayne is my new stepbrother, who I hope is super ugly. I haven't met him in the last three months because he was spending the semester in Europe– the lifestyle of the rich, I scoff. I had been poor before, and while we're now comfortable since Mom's dental practice had been doing well, Charles was clearly Bill Gates rich, well, maybe not as rich but quite close.

    "Ok," I mumble, lost in thought. As I descend the stairs, my face smashes into something, or someone warm but firm, the scent of pine nuts and aftershave fill my nostrils. I look up slowly at the handsome face. Oh. My breath catches in my throat, green eyes, pink lips, and his sandy blond locks. He definitely won the lotto at the gene pool. A single thought floats into my head. I'm in deep trouble if this is my new stepbrother.