A/N Frank is introduced in this chapter, but not at the very beginning, sorry! He'll be in every chapter probably the whole time, from now on.

"Stormi! Get down here!" I groaned, my eyes fluttering as I flopped over in bed lazily. "Stormi!" My mother yelled up the stairs a second time. I ignored her, in hopes that she'd leave me alone. "Stormi! Don't make me come up there!" She hollered angrily. "Ugh." I muttered before hesitantly replying to her empty threat. "How many times have I told you not to call me that, mom? It's TORI. Call me Tori." I yelled back, screaming extra loud when I said Tori, hoping to put enough emphasis on it that she'd finally get the point. Yeah, like that was going to happen.

I hated my name. I was named after something everyone hates. Storms. Just thinking of them make me cringe. Don't get me wrong, I love the rain. But, my name isn't Rainy, is it? No. It's Stormi. Angry, booming and destructive. Stormy weather is my worst nightmare, and as much as I hate to admit it, I'm afraid of them. And every time someone calls out my name, although only ever my mother, it reminds me of a storm. The pounding, thunder roaring above my head as if laughing at my tears and helplessness. The normally peaceful rain comes down in angry pellets, seeming to slice through my bedroom windows like bullets, generating a loud and painful smack.


Yes. Thunder and lightening made me cry, embarrassingly so. Right from the first rumble to the very last flash of light, my senses were heightened, my mind was whirring, and my knees were weak, leaving me shaking after.

"Stormi is your name, and I chose it for you. You may not like it, but I happen to think it's beautiful. I am your mother and I will call you what I please." Her serious tone interrupted my thoughts, and I saw her body leaning in the doorway. Just when I thought I was in for another speech about how great my name was, her eyes were brimmed with tears.

I swung my body out of bed and ran towards her, rubbing her back. "What is it? What's wrong, mom?" I asked gently, as if she was glass and words any louder would shatter her. I looked at my mother's tear-stained face. She was a beautiful woman, people always used to say we looked alike. Though, over time we've seemed to look gradually less similar. I peered at our reflections in the mirror.

She was a tall woman. Well, taller than me. Even now, at 18 years old, I was fully grown and my mother still loomed several inches above my unusually tiny 4'9 frame. Her hair was long and blonde, with big, blue eyes. I shifted over to my own doppelganger. I was known for changing my hair colour semi-regularily and right now it was approaching the end of my ribcage and a pastel teal shade that I loved. And it appeared as I moved my gaze between the two of us that the only thing I had even partially inherited was her big eyes. My own orbs were now a shocking shade of grey, though used to be like my mom's, but hers had always remained a pretty ocean blue. She had a tanned complexion, I was crazily pale. She had a long nose, mine was freakishly small. She had full lips, mine her painfully average. Her flawless smile, my lone dimple. I was blotted with imperfections, while to me, my mother was amongst the most beautiful people I'd set my eyes on.

She was always saying that I "look like my father," whom I'd never met. That's helpful. Comparing me to someone who's never bothered to show up, if only for a moment to say "Hey. I'm your father." But he never came. Never called. Never knocked on the door. From what I hear, he abandoned her after finding out she was pregnant. So, my relationship with my dad; I wouldn't have it any other way.

I was taken by surprise when my mother laughed, a large grin taking over her face as she bared her pearly whites, another thing I seemed to get from her. Nice teeth. "Frank's moving in today." She giggled. I frowned. "Frank?" I questioned. Not recalling anyone with that name. "Oh, honey. You probably wouldn't remember him. Haven't seen him in what? Six years or so. He would've been probably about 15. You'd be 6. Wow. Time flies." I shook my head. That still didn't answer my question. I gave her a look, telling her to explain more. "Oh, right. Anyways, he's a good family friend. Me and him have kept in touch over the years, so I'm overjoyed that he's moving in next door. He's my friend's son, good kid." I nodded, approving her explanation.

She turned to leave, and just as she was half way down the hallway, she spun around on the hardwood. Her hair flew around her, reminding me of a blonde-coloured curtain and the floorboards squeaked under her bare toes ungracefully. "Oh, and one more thing." She panted, like she was out of breath. "Yeah?" "The reason I'm so happy is because this is the best day he could've chosen to move in." My mother added, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. I sighed. "Why is that?" "Because. My business trip, remember?"

I shifted my gaze towards the ground sadly. "Oh, that's today?" I muttered. "Mmhmm." I nodded. "How long again?" I said questioningly, as our feet padded against the carpeted stairs on our way to the blindingly white kitchen. "I'd say…" She began, tapping her chin and leaning against the counter. "'Bout six months." I gasped. Would it really be that long without my mother? "Do you have to?" I whined childishly. I didn't want to be all alone for half a year. I wasn't exactly prom queen material and didn't have many-- didn't really have any friends. "Stormi, this is probably the most important deal of my career, I'd lose my job if I don't go." Attempting to glare daggers at her for the name, and failing, I slugged my suddenly heavy body over to her and buried my teary eyes in the crook of her neck, enveloping her in a warm hug. "I'll miss you." I mumbled into her shoulder blade.

"Miss you too, honey. Now go get ready! I have to leave in a bit, and Frank will be here soon." My eyes nearly bulged out of my skull. "What?!" I demanded. "Oh, yes. Forgot to mention that. Frank will be staying here for six months to keep an eye on you." Oh. My. God. My mother was planning to leave her barely-eighteen-year-old daughter alone in the same house as some strange however-the-fuck-old Frank guy for six whole months. I began to panic, blurting a confusing mix of questions and points into an unintelligible half-sentance. "But, what if--hormones and I mean, you know? Like if he were to, this isn't fair. Just, oh god. This can't happen. Just no. We'll run out of clean forks and clean underwear, what'll happen then? Huh?" I spewed. My mom face-palmed and then looked at me wide-eyed.

"Are you implying that he'll be wearing your underwear?" She finally spoke. There was a painful silence, filled with my mom's fear and my confusion. "Oh, honey. I'm so sorry. I see why you're so scared. Frank isn't a cross dresser. You won't have to worry about that." My jaw dropped as I stared at my mother, who was smiling like she just solved the greatest problem in the world. I tried to form words with my only semi-gathered thoughts. "No, mom. That isn't what I meant." I started, her grin dropping. "I meant…what if he's thirsty?" I tried.

"Oh, I see. That's very considerate of you, sweetie. You're concerned about his time here. Well, if he's thirsty, fix his little problem. Give him what he needs. You may as well treat yourself too." She winked. "Ahh." I screamed. Her face was a mask of sheer panic and confusion. "Ew. mom. Ew. First of all, no thanks. And secondly, you picked him so he probably…" I trailed off. "He probably what, Tori?" Her use of my nickname displayed her genuine concern. I sighed for the millionth time this morning. "He probably looks like his face caught fire and someone tried to put it out with a steak knife." Okay, so maybe it was a bad analogy but I can guarantee that I got my point across.

We both stood in silence until she finally muttered "I don't know what you were implying but I was implying that you get him root beer or something." I turned around and walked off to get ready.

I slipped on an old Rolling Stones t-shirt of mine. It was overly tight, and by that I mean that I was having a titty malfunction. I didn't understand. Both me and my mother were scrawny, though it was natural for my mom, I worked for it. She had ordinary boobs and well, I was "gifted" as she said. I didn't feel gifted though. It wasn't nice to stuff my D tits into a shirt, only to have it loose around everything else. That's why it was such a chore to shop for the contents of my closet. I shrugged and kept the all around tight shirt on, not feeling like changing. I pulled on some gray, acid wash jeans and my converse. Then, I proceeded to coat myself in a layer of eyeliner, mascara, foundation and eyeshadow, covering every crevice of my face in a thin layer of insecurity-shattering makeup. After, I did all the good stuff, brushed my teeth, straightened my hair and all that jazz.

"Stormi!" My mom's clear, unusually kind voice broke through my thoughts. "Yeah?" I replied. "I'm leaving now, come say bye!" She answered. I made my way downstairs and turned the corner, seeing her coming back from the hot, summery outdoors, with her suitcases loaded into the taxi and a dark head of hair disappearing into the house next door. "Bye Stormi." She said into my hair as she kissed my head. "Frank will be right over, be good to him. Love you!" And with that, my mother was gone, and off to Hong Kong for a whole half a year.

I decided to go to the kitchen and make a sandwich, my first act as a fully self-supporting, self-reliant adult, well, kind of. Just as I was cutting the crust off, I felt a warm breeze on my neck. I turned around, as arms shot out on either side of me, locking onto the counter and holding me in place. I looked up to the man towering above me. In reality, he was probably quite short to average, but to me, he was the Empire State Building. I let my eyes travel up his lightly muscled body, covered with tattoos. I had been meaning to get one. They intrigued me and I wanted to ask about each one. I wandered up to his face, settling on a single lip piercing, accompanied by a single nose ring. I admired his cute, button nose and his messy, shaggy crop of black hair. Finally, I met eyes with him. I wanted to dive into those deep pools of green. Unfortunately, my thoughts were cut of by a rough, deep voice.

"Checking me out, are we?" I tried to keep my cool and rolled my orbs playfully. "You wish." I whispered in return. "I'm Frank." He chuckled. "I'm Tori." All traces of humour were gone and his eyes grew dangerously dark as he leaned in. I noted his small stretchers in his ears, probably a little larger than my own. "No you're not." He whispered, his tongue purposely grazing my ear with every word he spoke. He trailed down my neck, his tongue still poked slightly out, creating a small, damp line.

"You're Stormi." He stated, sending a sheet of hot air over my neck and shoulders, giving me chills. "And it's nice to meet you." After that, he trailed back up my neck and instead of leaving me alone, his mouth connected with my neck, just below my jaw. He began sucking powerfully, and nipping at me aggressively, not letting go, making me gasp loudly. I blushed in embarrassment.

When he finally did, I ran to the mirror to check out my situation. There was already a large, purple hickey forming. "I'll get you Frank." I muttered under my breath, trying to ignore how terrifyingly turned on I was.

"So," His deep, melodic voice interrupted my plotting. "Angela said something about my face catching on fire and someone putting it out with a steak knife?" I didn't know what horrified me the most, the fact that he was on a first name basis with my mom or that she told him that. I put on my "sexy" face and attempted to be seductive.

"No. She heard me wrong. I said they put it out with a sexy wand."

A sexy wand?

You fucking idiot.

My face burned a dangerous crimson red as I tried to cough, and hide my face, and obvious niavity.

Notes

Sooo here's the first chapter! Sorry that it took so long to get to Frank! I hope it was okay, please let me now if you liked it or not and anything that you want to happen. Thanks for reading! :)