I step out into the crowd of people waiting for their flights, my nerves hitting me in waves, and gape at everything around me. I can't believe I'm actually in Portland. Being an antisocial girl from London, I never imagined I would be staying here at seventeen.

My thoughts are cut off by something colliding with me, actually, make that someone. "Watch it." A man in a crisp-looking suit spits. I stumble backwards slightly but manage to regain my balance. He hoists his backpack back onto his shoulder before stomping off, not sparing me another glance. With a huff, I narrow my eyes at his retreating form.

I roll my eyes as he goes out of sight, but it doesn't take me long to get lost in my thoughts again. My dad suggested, just before my last year of school, that I should apply to be a part of the exchange programme. I thought he was out of his mind. Why would I want to go to another country to do things I can already do at home? He went on and on about how I was missing opportunities. His exact words were "these are the best years of your life and you're wasting them." Of course, I was offended at first. There's nothing wrong with not leaping at the thought of a party or bubbling with excitement when a boy spared me a longer glance than usual.

After a while, I started to see what he meant. I spent most of my time at home and when I wasn't there I was at school. This realisation was how I ended up alone at an airport ten hours away from home, only minutes away from meeting, Penny, the girl I'll be living with for the next year.

"Heritage booksellers," I repeat these words as my eyes wander around the terminal shops in search of the place we agreed to meet at.

Once I find it, I drag my suitcase behind me and anxiously make my way over. My palms grow sweatier by the second meaning I have to readjust my grip on the handle. Once I'm close enough, I notice that she isn't where she said she would be. She must be running late.

The only other person standing outside of the store is a boy who appears to be around my age. He's staring into the distance blankly. I know I should be looking at the entrance for her to show up, but he keeps distracting me. It's his fault, not mine.

It's not his attractiveness or his mysterious demeanour that catches my attention, it's the tattoo that snakes up his right arm. There are three black butterflies dotted around his bicep. The lack of colour suits him. I wonder if they have a meaning behind them.

I shake the thought out of my head and rip my eyes away from him. If I stare at him for any longer, he's going to notice. Instead of shuffling my feet awkwardly waiting for Penny, I decide to head outside.

Only I don't make it very far as someone grips my wrist, holding me in place. I whirl around in shock, my eyes widening when I notice the butterflies imprinted on their arm.

"Madison, right?" He asks. His American accent still manages to take me by surprise. My eyebrows furrow involuntarily. How does this guy know my name and why does he think it's okay to touch me?

"Um," I pull my arm out of his grasp and step back slightly. "Yeah," I trail off. He seems satisfied with my answer which causes my confusion to grow. I look around for any sign as to what's going on and then back to him. "How do you know me?" Nothing about him seems familiar. I think I'd remember if I'd met him before.

The only reasonable explanation for this is that he's mistaken me for someone else. Someone else whose name is also Madison... "She was supposed to tell you." He mutters to himself with an eye roll.

"Who was supposed to tell me?"

He groans in frustration. I get the feeling that he doesn't want to be here right now. "My sister, Penny. The one you're supposed to be meeting here." He states as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

This boy is already getting on my nerves and we've barely even spoken. How was I supposed to know she was his sister? "I didn't know she had a brother."

"Why would you?"

Okay, what's going on? I eye him suspiciously. He's being very vague considering that he's supposed to know who I am. He stuffs his hands into his pockets and avoids all eye contact with me. Something's not right here. "I need proof." I cross my arms over my chest.

"What?" He scoffs, giving me an incredulous look.

"How do I know you're who you say you are?" I raise an eyebrow, challenging him.

"You're joking, right?" Once he sees that I'm not he reluctantly continues. "You think I'd come up to some random girl in an airport and pretend I know her for what," he laughs at my accusation, "fun?"

I shrug nonchalantly and tap my foot against the floor, waiting for him to show me proof. There's no way I'm trusting some random guy in a place I've never been just because he knows my name. Not even if he's attractive.

He presses his phone to his ear briefly before shoving it towards me. Is everyone in Portland rude or am I just unlucky? I narrow my eyes at him before taking it out of his hand. The first thing I notice is Penny's caller ID and the second thing is that the call is connected.

"Archer, why are you calling me right now? You're supposed to be with Madison. What did I tell you? I swear if you're not there I'm going to destroy-" I pull it away from my ear, cringing inwardly at the volume of her voice.

Cautiously, I clear my throat and ask, "Is this Penny?" I throw the supposed Archer a side-glance as I wait for her to answer.

She gasps slightly. "You're not Archer." She states. I can hear the embarrassment in her voice.

"Yeah," I giggle awkwardly, pacing around outside the store. "It's actually Madison. I think I'm with your brother."

I hear shuffling on the other side of the phone, and I switch it to my other ear. "I'm sorry," she blurts out. "If I'd have known it was you and not him, I wouldn't have shouted like that."

"No, no, it's fine," I reassure her.

I end the call after establishing that the boy in front of me is indeed her brother and hand him his phone back. My cheeks stain pink as I glue my gaze to the floor. How embarrassing. My first encounter here almost ended with me on the floor and now this. This isn't a good start.

"Do you believe me now?" He shoves his phone back into his pocket. His scrutinizing gaze meets mine, making me feel small.

I play with the hem of my t-shirt. "Yeah," my voice comes out considerably lower than it was before.

"Finally." He rolls his eyes and starts walking towards the exit without warning.

I grab hold of my suitcase before scrambling after him. His legs are a lot longer than mine meaning that I have to walk faster to keep up with him. Even in these trainers that have a slight platform he still towers over me.

"Penny mentioned your name's Archer." I try to make conversation to reconcile my previous accusation. He keeps his cold gaze focused in front of him. For a while, the only sound ringing in my ears is the wheels of my suitcase rolling against the tarmac outside.

"It is." He confirms.

His clipped reply deters me from continuing. We reach his car, and he climbs straight into the driver's seat. I don't know what I was expecting but it definitely wasn't that. I thought he might have been kind enough to help me with my bags at least. I purse my lips together and shove them onto the backseat.

The first thing I notice when I slide into the passenger seat is our proximity. I find myself shuffling to the edge of my seat to get as far away from him as possible. I don't know if it's out of embarrassment or lack of confidence, probably both. The second thing is the uncomfortable silence between us.

I stare out of the window at the passing traffic. It only grows louder and louder as the seconds turn into minutes. My heart pounds in my ears and if I didn't know better, I'd be convinced he could hear it too.

Discarding my better judgment, I open my mouth to say something but before I can get a word out his hand is moving towards the dial to turn the radio up. I get the idea that he's done talking to me and instead slump back into my seat. Definitely not a good start.

*

We pull up outside of the house and I don't wait for his help this time. Finally feeling like I can semi-relax now that there's at least a metre of space between us, I grab my backpack out of the back, planning on placing it on my shoulder. Instead of doing that, my hand slips and it comes undone causing all of the contents to spill onto the floor.

My jaw hangs open when I notice the half-naked barbie now lying on the path. I squeeze my eyes closed, hoping that luck is on my side at least once today. After I've crossed my fingers, I slowly peel them open, instantly looking in Archer's direction.

I mutter curse words under my breath when I see him staring directly at the doll, refraining from covering my face with my hands and curling up into a ball. Instead, I shove it back into my backpack.

Sadie must have slipped that in there before I left. Why does the universe have to punish me like this?

A slight smirk tugs at his lips and I want nothing more than for the ground to open up and swallow me whole. Instead of waiting for that to happen, I choose to leave my pride on the floor, following behind him with the rest of my stuff.

The house is a lot bigger than ours is back home. There are four pillars around the porch, making it feel like I'm stepping into a kingdom rather than a family home. Not to mention the huge driveway and garden. It surprises me that only four people live here.

Scratch that, it's five now.

Archer casually throws the door open and walks inside. He tosses the car keys onto the shelf before going out of sight. I stand at the threshold, chewing my lip. I can't believe I've managed to embarrass myself twice already. Once I've given myself a quick pep talk, I finally allow myself to go inside.

I leave my things at the door and brush my fingertips along the walls as I round the corner. The kitchen is directly in front of me, and I almost stomp my feet in frustration when I see him standing there with his head in the fridge. Couldn't he have just gone to his room already?

He turns around with a carton of orange juice in his hand but, thankfully, footsteps rushing down the stairs steal his attention away from me.

"You're here!" Penny exclaims with a genuine smile on her face. At least she's more welcoming than Archer. I was starting to regret my decision to come here after meeting him.

She wraps her arms around me, pulling me into a bone-crushing hug. I'm surrounded by the scent of vanilla as she does. She stands back, looking at me as her moderately full lips curve into a smile. Her brown hair falls just below her jaw in untamed waves, and she tucks it behind her ears.

"Sorry I wasn't there; I have this very annoying friend who was demanding my attention." She apologises.

"You don't need to explain," I stuff my hands into my pockets. "Your brother was very welcoming." The sarcasm is evident in my voice. She gives me a knowing look, seemingly understanding my impression of him.

She throws him an eye roll, placing her hands on her hips. "Can't you be nice for once in your life?"

He unscrews the cap off the orange juice and gulps it out of the carton. His shirt lifts slightly. I glue my eyes to his face, knowing that I shouldn't be looking at his revealed skin. More importantly, I shouldn't want to look at it. His intimidating brown eyes dart to mine and don't leave. He brings the carton away from his lips, nodding towards me in acknowledgement.

He runs his hand through his dishevelled, dark hair only for it to fall onto his forehead again moments later. Our second chance at an introduction is short-lived as he screws the cap back onto the orange juice and makes his way upstairs with it still in his hand.

"Mom said don't drink all of that, you'll get bad teeth!" Penny shouts, but the sound of his door slamming makes it clear that he doesn't care.

She groans, shutting the fridge that he lazily left open and grabs two glasses, filling them with water. She slides one over to me. My mind replays what just happened over and over again in my head. Is that all I get, a nod? I didn't even get a wave.

"Don't be too disheartened, he doesn't like anyone. Just stay out of his way and he won't bother you." She tries to comfort me. I give her a tight-lipped smile.