Disclaimer: I don't own Warren, his mom and dad or the state of California. In fact there is very little I do own. Pity.

A/N: The reviews are great…thanks everyone I'm thrilled by all the responses I have received. I'm trying to keep updating this story relatively often. Hopefully, I have done a decent job so far. Nothing beats writing in my free time between classes…

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Well, after accidentally lighting my first grade teacher's desk on fire and burning (in front of a full classroom of little brats) brown hair dye right out of my hair, my family's cover was blown. Yeah, the government sent in people to clean up the whole mess and try and tone down all the rumors but, we all know the government never fixes things to satisfaction. So the only logical choice my family had was to move. Preferably, far far away. Like all the way across country. Away from the stares of the neighbors and the whispers that fallowed my mom when she went to the store. It was a small town, people talk. Everyone knew that something wasn't quite right with the Battles.

Within a week, we had moved out of Closter. It seems my parents had decided to ditch the East Coast for a while and move to the West Coast. Welcome to California. That was one hell of a long drive across the country.

I always wondered why we didn't fly across. (It wasn't until I took Powered Piloting for Heroes in my sophomore year of high school that I knew why) I'm sure I'll be forced to tell you this story too in the days to come.

Right. Driving to our new home in California. A). Not fun. B). Mom and Dad fought (civilly) 95 of the way. C). Oh boy on a few hundred more hours before we got there.

Never drive with your parents (at any age) across country. Especially, if you lit your teacher's desk on fire from several feet away.

But once we arrived at our new home the problems of the last few weeks seemed to melt away. The water front property home in Alameda (a town just outside of San Francisco) was beyond description!

Naturally, I've been informed that I have to try and describe it…here goes.

(1)'Your own Castle on the Bay' Bay front home with awesome views and beach. (now if you want a good view you have to look over a condo. Not easy to do.)Extensively remodeled three-story home boasts 5 bedrooms and 4 baths with remodeled showers, beautiful kitchen with Sears appliances and custom cabinets, large media room/den, family room, living room, 2-car tandem garage with shed. Enjoy bay & city light views from balconies on every level.

Yes, I understand that doesn't sound like how I would describe it. I looked it up on a real-estate site…It's my story let me just tell it how I will.

Yes, I would be too hard for me to just tell you how it looked….

Ok, Ok, ok, Whatever….

I wasn't muttering ANYTHING under my breath!

It was a nice house, mansion, mini-castle…whatever you want to call it.

We settled in relatively quick. It seems all Californians are a little...odd…so we fit in easily. Just your average wealthy family that grew tired of the snow and sleet that hounded the winters in New Jersey. Dad spent half his time driving back to New York City to tie up all the lose ends and Mom started to home school me.

With Dad out of town Mom decided to make a few decisions on her own concerning my education and social (lack of) life.

California. Surfing. Typical.

So did I enjoy surfing lessons? I knew how to swim, in fact for a boy of my age I was a damn good swimmer. Yeah, I actually looked forward to them. However, the lessons usually left me exhausted from trying to control my body temperature in the water. Water and fire don't mix well, but I worked through it.

When Dad came home and found out what Mom had signed me up for he was far from pleased. I'd say water was a weakness for my Dad. The idea of letting me take surfing lessons didn't appeal to him.

That was the first major all out battle between my parents. Screaming and cursing on my Dad's part and yelling, sobbing, and pleading on my Mom's part. First time I ever saw them less than happy with each other. I had led a very sheltered 8 years of life. That first fight terrified me. There was so much going on behind the scenes of that fight that I can only guess about now that I have lived through the years since that first fight. It certainly wasn't just about surfing lessons. (As I'm you know)

Anyway, I was eight now and everyone else in the class attended a variety of second grades scattered around the county. I was the only home schooled kid in the group. That alone kept me ostracized from the rest of the kids. And as you know, I'm not the friendliest of people, so in the end I kept to myself.

All that time spent learning how to deal with my power in water of all temperatures sure paid off.

I was enjoying California, even more than I had enjoyed Closter, New Jersey. I was actually, happy.

So, of course, our lives have to go down hill from there.

Dad started to spend more and more of his time working back in New York. Mom spent the time that he was gone in a sort of harried worried state. Every time he got back, they would start to fight again.

They kept me in the dark about their fights. I only heard snatches of unrest between them. I blew it off, stress of moving or something like that. After all, what eight year old assumes the worst?

My family was still perfect. Nothing would ever change that! Ha! Note the sarcasm dripping form each and every word…

Read…check, Review…please? Thank You!