The only thing Alexandria hated more than her stupid stepmother was her stupid stepbrother, Connor Stevens, but here she was on college move-in day, hauling luggage with none other than her dear stepbrother.

"Need a hand?"

She ignored him. Stupid Connor. He was always trying to be nice to her. Ever since she and her dad had moved in with the two of them last year he'd always acted like some sort of goddamn saint, like in the romance movies where some hotshot nice guy takes the socially awkward new girl into his jacked arms. Dammit, she hated guys who thought they could just ingratiate themselves with a girl by holding doors and smiling the way he was smiling now, hand extended, gesturing for her to pass the luggage. Smiling apologetically, as if he'd done something wrong. But he didn't seem to realize that sometimes you didn't need to have a reason to hate someone, and Alexandria was going to hate Connor as long as her stupid father slept with Connor's stupid mother.

She shouldered her suitcase and hauled it foot by foot into her dorm room. Behind her, Connor grabbed the other bag, the one full of her books, curled it like it was a goddamn dumbell, and carried into the room.

He lowered the bag softly onto the bed and sat down beside it. Behind him, the door swung closed. Her roommate wasn't here yet, so it was just her and Connor. Normally she would have felt uncomfortable alone in a room with a guy who could probably curl her as easily as he'd curled her bag, except for two things: one, he was her brother (stepbrother, she reminded herself angrily) and two, Connor had a boyfriend. Jules, or something. The famous Jules. The one Connor was always texting. She'd never seen him before but she could recognize his voice as easily as Connor's. More nights than she cared to remember, she had fallen asleep listening to Connor and Jules quietly skyping in the room next to hers, heard the murmured love you's and see you in Septembers. Well now it was September and she'd probably end up meeting this Jules, because Jules was also attending the University of California, San Diego. If there was ever a moment when she thought she maybe didn't hate Connor that much, it was when he talked about his boyfriend of five years, more than four of which had been spent through skype, text, and the occasional visit to L.A. or San Diego.

"Are we done here?" He asked.

"Yeah." She paused. "Thanks." She said at length.

"Okay. I'm going to find my room, and then I have to go find Jude." So it was Jude, not Jules. He got up quickly, smiling that damn smile, and left.

She heard the sound of his car pulling away from the dorm as Connor went to move own his own stuff.

She sighed and started unpacking. Much as Connor bothered her, it was a little lonely now that he was gone. He was the only person she knew on campus. She'd never made many friends in L.A. after she'd moved there, and before that she had lived in New York. She started putting her putting her books on the shelf. Hamlet. Anna Karenina. The Catcher in the Rye. The Marriage of Figaro. She paused at that one. Her mother had given it to her, which is why she'd brought it with her. Thing is, she'd never read it, because she couldn't read French. Her mom had wanted her to learn the language, so she'd given her this dopey French book, but in between her mother dying and her father getting remarried within a few years, she hadn't really paid much attention in French class. The most beautiful part of the play her mom said is when the Count discovers that the woman he has tried to seduce is actually the Countess in disguise. And he gets on his knees and he begs for forgiveness from his wife, and despite all the intrigue and all the madness, she forgives him, and the love of all the couples there, young and old, is blessed by the power of forgiveness. Bullshit. Some things are unforgivable.

She tossed The Marriage of Figaro on to the bed and started sorting through the rest of the books. The Great Gatsby. The Sun Also Rises. Peter and Wendy. Some things are unforgivable: a novel by me, Alexandria Sorenson.Chapter 1: Marry some old temptress barely a year after your wife of two decades dies. Chapter 2: Send your kid off to college over a hundred miles away so you can have your sweet time with the aforementioned temptress.

She was consumed in this train of heard the door open. She didn't bother turning around, thinking Connor must have forgotten something and come back. She was startled when a female voice said, "The Marriage of Figaro, huh?"

She turned around, seeing a pale, red-haired girl standing in the doorway holding her book with a rather amused look on her face. That annoyed her. Who did she think she was, walking in to her room and touching her stuff. She tried to be polite, but ultimately what came out was,

"Who are you?"

"Well I guess I'm your roommate," the girl said. "My name's Taylor." She put the book back down on Alexandria's bed and walked over to the other side of the room, flopping down casually on the other bed before sitting up and browsing through Alexandria's books.

"I'm Alexandria." She could already tell she wasn't going to like her new roommate. Still, it didn't hurt to be just a little friendly. "But you can call me Alex. That's what everyone calls me." That was a lie. Nobody called her that. It was weird, because her full name sounded weird and archaic, but no one had every given her a nickname.

"Okay Alex. Just to let you, I'm told that I talk quite a bit when I sleep," she said apologetically. So she was just like Connor. Only shitty people would talked like they were constantly apologizing for being shitty people.

"Oh. I hope that didn't keep your parents up?"

"No. My dad sleeps like the dead. And my mom really is dead." She paused. "Just kidding." And she laughed like it was the cleverest thing ever but to Alexandria it just confirmed that Taylor was indeed a very shitty person.

That night Alexandria lay awake on her bed, sweating uncomfortably in the nighttime heat. Across the room, Taylor was already asleep, and contrary to what she had said, she was not talking. Typical for a shitty person to lie like that. She couldn't fall asleep, so she picked up her phone from the bedside table. There was one new message. She quickly opened it, hoping it was from her dad, but it wasn't. It was from Connor's mom.

Hope you had a smooth move-in, honey. Your father is already missing you. I packed some extra blankets in your suitcase in case it gets cold at night. Let me know if you need anything extra!

Love,

Angela.

She breathed a sigh of relief. For a moment there she was afraid Connor's mom was going to sign "Love, Mom". She promptly swiped left and deleted the text. Now her phone was empty, and in the still languor of the night she found herself crying in anger. Anger at her father for not sending her a text himself, for finding a new wife so quickly. Anger at her stepmom for acting like she was the real deal when she was just that - a stepmom, with some two degrees of separation from her. Not a part of her life. Someone who shouldn't be texting her with love at this hour of the night. Angry at Connor for pitying her and then leaving her alone with Taylor, and angry in general at all these people who thought they belonged in her life, and thought they understood what she was going through but didn't really, didn't really care at all for her. And she had a plan now, a brilliant plan that would take everything back to the way it was before, when she was happy, and before she had met all these people she hated.

Whew so this going to be my first Jonnor fanfic. It'll be a multichapter one, so please send me feedback so I can improve in future chapters! I know there's not much actual Jonnor yet but we'll get there.