(A/N: Hey everyone! I'm making the terrible mistake of starting a new fanfic and probably ending up putting all my other ones on hold! Sorry for any mistakes for the Harry Potter books, it's been a while and I'm gonna try to do this from memory so I don't end up copying word for word. Also, I'm sorry if I mess up any British or Scottish slang words, I'm Canadian so I might accidentally call something the wrong name, like the lift or a lorry. Without further due, let's begin! Enjoy!)

I ran down the hill, ducking into an alley and leaping into a nearby dumpster.

"Asher! Just one kiss? A quick snog's fine too!" a girlish voice exclaimed.

I held my breath, ignoring the stench of garbage as I squatted in the trash.

"Ew! Asher, you better not be in the trash! I just got a new school uniform so I'm not snogging you in there."

I didn't reply, mainly because the image of her snogging me disgusted me.

The girl who was desperately trying to snog me was Genevieve Brook, a girl a year younger than me. She was a ten-year-old, who was obsessed with me for some reason. She's got it in her bloody head that I like her and want to sleep with her! SHE'S TEN!

I'm eleven for Pete's sake! I would rather play video games or go dancing, not snog a girl younger than me!

She sighed. "Okay Asher, I'll see you at school in a couple of weeks! I can't wait to see you in that spiffy new uniform of yours!" Judging from the clipping noises, she was skipping away merrily.

I peeked my head out of the dumpster, checking to see if she was still there, just in case that clipping noise was a decoy. You never know with obsessive ten-year-olds.

I swung my leg over the side and jumped down, brushing off the garbage that still clung to my body. I did a quick survey of my body, checking to see if I dropped anything important. Thankfully, I didn't.

I slipped out of the alley, looking down both sides of the sidewalk to see if Genevieve was lurking around for me.

"Guess she's gone..." I stuffed my hands into my pockets, turning left and strolling down the street.

I guess Genevieve's sorta cute? I just never found a girl I really liked anyway, they seemed to be too high-maintenance in my opinion. Way more emotional than guys, but I could be wrong. I haven't met every girl on the planet yet.

I kept on walking, arriving at my house in no time.

It was a simple two-storey house. It was a basic Scottish house, pointed roof, white and brown paint separating the top and bottom, and the standard metal fencing around to keep out the pests.

I walked up to my house, fumbling with my keys before unlocking the door. I stepped inside, wiping my shoes on the rug before pulling them off. My step-mom hates mud training into the house, especially after she finished sweeping the place up for her afternoon book clubs.

"Ah, yer home, Ash," my dad greeted me from the living room, sipping a mug of likely coffee while reading the news.

"Hi, Dad," I replied.

Unlike my family, for some bizarre reason, I don't have that much of a distinct Scottish accent. It was there, yeah, but when I say certain words they sound normal. My dad thinks it's from my mother's side, but I never met her so.

Apparently, my dad went on a business trip eleven years ago to America and met a 'stunning waitress'. They started dating, allegedly, before breaking up because he had to move back to Scotland. However, nine months later, I was somehow delivered to his doorstep. I question the possibility of that though.

For starters, my mum lived in America, not Scotland. How did she find my dad's address? Why did she bring me here? Why couldn't she raise me herself? Did she really not want me enough to keep me around?

"Asher? You're just in time for lunch." My step-mom stepped into the living, which was connected to the kitchen by a small doorway.

She was about a foot taller than me with wavy, brown hair and hazel eyes. Naturally, my half-brother was almost the spitting image of her, but he had grey eyes, like my dad.

That was the only trait I got from my father as well. Grey eyes. My mother had silver-blonde hair, therefore I inherited it. However, I didn't inherit much otherwise.

"C'mon, son, let's get in some grub." My father patted me on the shoulder, being almost two feet taller than me.

I nodded my head, having this weird feeling grow in the pit of my stomach when he said this.

"ASH!" my younger brother, Zachery Evans-Reid, long name, I know, exclaimed. He ran into the room, nearly tackling me to the ground if it weren't for the fact his mom reached out and snagged him by his shirt's sleeve.

"Now, now, Asher wouldn't want that," she scolded him before leading us all into the kitchen.

My dad married Evelyn Evans, my step-mom, ten years ago. She raised me, yeah, but I never really considered her my real mother. I felt like she didn't want me at times, but other times, she's really loving and caring towards me.

"What's for lunch, love?" Dad pecked my step-mom on her forehead, pulling her towards him and making my brother and I gag.

"Dad," I groaned.

"It's natural, someday yer be like us, snogging and-" Dad was cut off by my step-mom slapping his arm, giving him a pointed look that meant 'not in front of the kids'.

"Well, lunch is going to be a grouse casserole," she responded, gesturing towards the table, which had been plated already.

We all slid into our own seats, Dad flirting shamelessly with very sexual terms that I had to coverup my eight-year-old brother's ears.

"Andrew! There are children here!" my step-mom turned bright red, glaring at my dad.

"Dad, can we just eat dinner before Zachery and I throw up?" I suggested.

My dad nodded before motioning for us to dig in.

The food was good, especially since it had my favourite as a side, mashed potatoes. However, my thoughts kept on wandering towards school, which would be starting in a couple of weeks.

I was excited about school, I guess. I just feel like something else is supposed to happen. I've had this feeling for weeks now, actually.

I went through every day like a routine. Wake up, eat brekky, go to the pool, run away from Genevieve, go home, eat lunch, go to the dance studio, come home, eat dinner, sleep, repeat. I feel like my life is boring and average, I want to spice it up somehow.

Is that too much to ask?