Whenever someone moved to our little hole of a town, everyone knew about it. Within minutes, every single person in my town knew your name, birthday, your past, and the names of your last five goldfish. What? It's a small town.

So I was walking down the street, getting ignored by everyone because I could control fire, when suddenly I bumped into him.

Tall, dark hair, emerald green eyes. Kinda cute, not gonna lie. But that was the problem. I'd never met a cute guy before.

"Sorry," he grinned. He had a strange accent. I was starstruck. He talked to me! Me! That was new.

"Uh..." I fumbled for a reply. Excuse me for not knowing etiquette, it's hard to learn when no one is nice to you.

He cleared his throat and stuck out his hand. He was clearly a city boy. And he clearly didn't know what I could do.

I stared at his hand. Then shook it. He jerked his hand away as soon as I let go.

"Your hand's hot!" He exclaimed. I watched him flail his arm around until his palm cooled off.

"Do you normally have a burning hand?" He asked in that strange accent.

"I don't know," I shrugged. "I don't touch people. And they don't like to get near me, so I don't worry about it."

His features softened. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," I replied, puzzled. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Suddenly, Old Woman Cynthia—the village's resident crazy lady—grabbed the boy's shoulder and pointed at me.

"Stop talking to her. She's a witch. A freak. Don't speak to her," she warned. The poor boy looked so confused.

Cynthia backed up and went back into her old little house.

"Well, not my most pleasant encounter, I'll tell you that," the boy said. Then he looked at me funnily. "What did she mean? About you being a witch?"

I laughed nervously. Was I going to lose the only person that had ever talked to me? "Oh, it's nothing."

"Wait! Did it have something to do with your burning hands?"

"I don't know."

"I bet it did!"

I shrugged. "I don't really know. Like I said, I don't like to touch people, and they don't like to touch me."

"Hmm. Okay. What's your name? I'm Jack."

"Valerie."

He grinned. "That's a pretty name."

I must've looked so confused. He laughed. "It's a compliment!"

"A...a what?"

He looked me over worriedly, as if he was concerned for me. "A compliment?"

"Yeah. What's that mean?"

He looked shocked, as if I'd just told him that the sky was green. "You don't know what a compliment is?"

"No."

"It's like...being kind to someone. Saying their name is pretty or their hair is awesome or something like that."

My brow furrowed. "Kind?"

His jaw almost hit the concrete. "Kind? Are you okay? Do you need help?"

"Um...no. What's does kind mean?"

He stared at me for a few seconds. "Okay, you meet me at the little coffee shop a few blocks down from here and I'll tell you the answer to everything you ask. Got it?"

I nodded and started to walk away. But then I paused. "Why are you doing this?"

He smiled. "Because it's the right thing to do."

And with that, he left me with a bunch of unanswered questions and a head full of confusion.

So In case u couldn't tell, Jack is *does Australian accent* aWsTrAiN *clears throat* srry that was unnecessary. Anyways, Jack is from Australia and is going to help V out (V is what I call Valerie for short)

Cya'll laters!