Dislaimer: Do you honestly think I own any of this? (besides Jen and her friends of course)

Quick Note: This is my first time posting as story here, so feel free to give constructive criticisim. I completely suck at spelling, so please excuse any errors that may occur.

Prologue

A boy around 15 or 16 was leaning up against a streetlight, staring up at the sky, and wondering why everything happened to him. He felt empty; empty of emotion, empty of feeling, just empty. The only time he didn't feel empty was when he felt angry, which happened often. He had been snapping at people a lot recently. He continued looking up, completely zoning out the world, until he heard a car pull up. Who would be driving around at this time? he thought. It was getting late, and everyone driving home from work would have been back by now. He looked over and saw a car pulling up the driveway of the house next to the one he was standing in front of. Never seen that car before; oh well, the snobs next door probably just got a new one. He was about to resume staring at the sky when he saw a girl around his age emerge from the car, along with a man and a woman that he assumed must be her parents. He was confused until he saw a moving van pull up behind the car.Oh great, just great; he thought sarcastically, new people to hate me. It was bad enough that just about everyone in this neighborhood disliked him simply because he wasn't a stuck-up idiot like the rest of them, but new people hating him because of what they heard about him from the stuck-up idiots was freaking annoying. He had been staring up at the sky some more when he heard a pebble clattering. He looked back over at the people and noticed that the girl was beginning to walk away from the house. "Jenna, sweety," a woman's voice called, "where are you going?"

"Just gonna walk around for a bit mom. You know, get to know the neighborhood and all that good stuff." He finally got a good look at her; she was a little shorter than medium height for a girl her age, with dirty-blondish hair that was brown at the tips with brown streaks. She was wearing a blue T-shirt that said 'Panthers' in black. She was also wearing tennis shoes and loose jeans that were a little too long for her. Wow. He was surprised that he thought her so beautiful. She looked nice, there was no denying that, but he felt strangely attracted to her.

"Alright, but don't stay out too late. It's going to get dark soon and you don't know the neighborhood, and besides, you need to unpack." the woman called again, bringing him back to reality.

"Got it!" the girl called back. She started walking again, and noticed him for what must have been the first time. She walked over to him. "Hi," she said as she reached him and extended her hand, "I'm Jen, who are you?" Not really any of your business, now is it? he thought, his attitude returning. However, he decided to be as polite as possible. He wasn't really sure why he was so angry at her speaking to him. Probably just because she seemed so happy when he was so miserable.

He shook her hand and said rather coolly "Harry."

"Well someone's awfully cheery," she replied while rolling her eyes. And what exactly do I have to be cheery about? Why did she even give a damn whether or not he was freaking cheery? Instead of replying, he just rolled his eyes and leaned back up against the streetlamp. "So," she said, obviously trying to change the subject, or rather have a subject to begin with, "how'd you get that scar?" Now that's definitely not any of your business.

"I got it the night my parents died in a car accident," he replied solemnly. He didn't really see the point in lying about it. At least this way she might leave him alone, or possibly think she understood why he was so unhappy and then leave him alone.

"I'm really sorry to hear that. Were you in the car when it happened?" she looked like she was sad. Not really sorry for him, which was good because he really would have snapped. He had enough people feeling sorry for him as it was. It made him feel weak. She just looked sad.

"Yeah that's how I got my scar." he kept his tone indifferent.

"How old were you?" Geez, why do you freaking care so much? Its not like it really concerns you.

"One." he was getting sick of talking about this with a complete stranger, and was about to leave as the streetlight he was leaning against flickered on. He had been warned not to stay out at night. He didn't really care, he just didn't feel like having anyone gripe at him right now.

"Well then you might want to ask whoever told you that that scar is from a car accident for the truth. That isn't how you got your scar. That's not anywhere close." Harry, who had been in the process of getting up from leaning against the lamp and coming up with an excuse to leave stopped short, falling back against the streetlight. How did she know that? Was she- no, no she couldn't be. He was just jumping to conclusions.

"What exactly do you mean?," he asked, trying to keep his voice calm.

"There's no way that you could get a scar like that from a car accident," she replied calmly. He must have had a confused look on his face, because she explained, "You couldn't have gotten that in a car accident because if anything had hit you in a way that would have left a scar, it would have either been metal or glass. Metal doesn't break off in a way that would leave a scar that shape. Glass would have to break off in shards and then pretty much embed themselves in your skin deep enough to cause a permanent scar. Plus, the chances of glass shards hitting your head so they left a scar that took that exact shape are roughly...1,500,000 to 1."

He wasn't sure whether to be relieved or not. She didn't know how he really got his scar, but she had a lot of reasons for why he didn't get it in a car crash. Had she made all that up or had she come up with it right after he told her he'd gotten his scar in a car crash? "Do you always over-analyze everything, or are you trying to freak me out?" he asked seriously.

"A little of both," she said, completely calm. "You seemed like you knew more than what you were saying, which I can understand; I'm a total stranger. I just don't like being lied to." He was impressed, the tiny smirk on his face showed it. "Ahhh, so you're capable of smiling after all." she said, looking like she was suppressing a grin herself. He rolled his eyes, then looked back over at her and noticed two things he was surprised hadn't jumped to his attention earlier. The first was that she had a bit of an accent. It wasn't annoyingly obvious, but it was there. He couldn't quite place where it was from, though. The second thing is what surprised him. Her eyes were blue, but not the kind of blue one would expect to see as an eye color. They were the same color as her shirt, a blue that reminded him of deep water when he saw it in her eyes. He kept staring at her eyes, trying to remember what that blue was called. "Cerulean" she said, snapping him out of his trance.

"What?" now he was really confused.

"My eyes, they're cerulean." she stated, keeping her nonchalant air about her.

"How did-"

"Everyone always asks me what color my eyes are. You were looking at them and looked like you were trying to figure something out. I just assumed you were wondering what color they were; or what the color was called, now that I think about it." He was a little creeped out and really interested. She seemed to know what he was thinking, which he was sure she wouldn't be able to. Unless...no, I'm just being paranoid. Now he was very interested in talking to this girl. Maybe she was like him and just didn't recognize him. "It's getting late." she said, checking her watch, "Not safe to be outside late at night. See you around?"

"Yeah, sure." He was a little saddened, he wanted to figure out what was going on. Was he just being stupid or was she really like him? Oh well, she's right either way. I should get back inside, where it's "safe". The chances of it being safe anywhere where he was were probably less than the chances of glass shards causing a scar like his lightning-bolt shaped one.

"Bye, Harry." she called over her shoulder, already walking towards her house.

"See you." he called back, still a little down in the dumps. He watched her go inside her house as a light wind picked up, causing his naturally messed up jet-black hair to become even messier. He stood back up and walked into his house. If she was like him at all, she would show it soon enough...

AN: please review so I know what you think. Hope all of you like it. I'll have the next one out soon; I just need to check a few things.