Okay, I know what some of you MUST be thinking. How lame. Am I just copying the plot of The Invisible with Teen Titans as the main characters? well, kinda. But I am adding my own touches! (for any of my Titanic/X-men fans out there, yeah. Same deal, different movie). So I really, really, REALLY hope that you love this crappy story, and the fact that I'm trying something different from my other stories. Yeah, that's right, I'm gonna try to make this story about 60 000 words long! Sorry, not a lot of talking in the first chapter (as is the same for most of my stories :(...)

I own nothing!

"Gar'' Logan is the good guy. He has his friends (below average popularity), his girlfriend (above average), and his foster parents, who have high expectations from him.

Rachel Roth is different. She has no friends. Her boyfriend is a low life criminal. And every night she risks her life for her sister.


Rachel Roth ignored the noise of the school cafeteria. It was lunchtime, and the large room was filled with students. They chatted together, they laughed with each other, several were finishing up late homework, and Rachel was ignoring all of them as she slipped away into deep thought. In her corner of the cafeteria, she was alone. Nobody sat at her table, and it was rare for a person, even the janitor, to walk by her. Her presence seemed to scream "back away, and stay there", and if someone was ignorant of the death vibes around her, she was quick to send them away with a harsh word or glare. So Rachel was left alone to think and brood, as she liked it.

"The necklace alone would bring in $1500, if we take it to Rancid, and even then we'd have to wait a week for the heat to wear off... The diamonds won't get us much around here, maybe $800... and the car's trash, parts for sale... He's not gonna like this..."

The small teenager snarled, and hardly noticed as she gripped the mug in her hands tighter. Normally the aroma of hot tea kept her mind grounded, but not today, she was too preoccupied to keep her thoughts under control. Slouched down in her chair, hood of her dark jacket up, she was largely unnoticed by her fellow classmates, and that was how she preferred it. Her hoodie was perfect for hiding the oddities of her appearance. Purple hair, matching eyes, and skin so pale under shade she looked gray, Rachel herself was an oddity, and she hated staring eyes.

Loud laughter shot through Rachel's concentration, and the mug of tea went flying from her hands as the strange teenager jumped in surprise. Almost instantly, Rachel's thick, gray hoodie was soaked with the brown beverage, and even through the fabric, she could feel the burning liquid. Seconds later, the crash of porcelain breaking told her that her favorite mug was beyond repair, and one area of the cafeteria went silent.

Rachel stood up from her seat, the front of her hoodie, and most likely her shirt as well, drenched. From under her hood, purple eyes searched the masses of students, and quickly locked on target: Tara Markov. Amethyst orbs glared at sapphire, and Rachel fought the urge to run up and throttle the blond haired girl. Beside Tara, a blond haired boy rubbed the back of his neck nervously, and mouthed 'sorry'.

The violet haired girl gave no response. Instead, she turned to gather up her books into a worn, and almost threadbare backpack, every other second spent looking up to glare at the blond and his small group of friends. She recognized them all, and sneered in annoyance. Rachel had a class with every one of them, but it didn't make much difference. She ignored them, and they carried on with their lives.

Shouldering her backpack, Rachel left the cafeteria, not bothering to give a last look back at the happy group of friends. She wouldn't give Tara the satisfaction of knowing her embarrassment, especially when Rachel knew that the blond vixen had witnessed the entire scene with a smile on her face. Without a single word, she left the cafeteria, and even with her back turned, she heard what was said behind her back.

"Holy crap. What a bitch, eh Logan?" Rachel sneered, though nobody could see, and walked on, head bent low her hide her face. She had been called worse in second grade. At sixteen, Rachel was numb to the names, and when a student suddenly got very brave (or extremely stupid), and a rotten fruit was thrown her way, the violet haired darkling was quick to retaliate. They didn't always hit her, but she never missed.

Halfway down the hallway lined with red lockers, she stopped, and dropped the heavy sack down before lowering herself to her knees. Her locker was on the second row. Facial expression still lacking emotion, Rachel was quick to open her locker, and dig around inside. It was an organized mess. Old books with pages filled with dust occupied most of what little space there was given, and they were stacked on two pairs of baggy jeans and an old vest. Rachel sneered again as she glanced at the old articles of clothing.

Her closet at home consisted of mostly the same things; Jeans at least four sizes too large for her; t-shirts which were too small; and a worn, zip-up hoodie. The pants used to be her fathers, a man too cheap to give his only child clothing bought from a store. Rachel had to wear a thick, leather belt (luckily, her father's from when he was younger, and thinner) just to keep the heavy clothing from falling. Her shirts, however, came from her Mother's closet. The older woman was frail and thin, and her clothing stuck to Rachel like a second skin. Not something the dark teenager would like to be seen in, but it was better than nothing. The hoodie, fortunately, was her own, bought with what little money she could salvage. Cash was hard to obtain, and even harder to keep.

Pulling off the drenched hoodie, Rachel examined her shirt. Blue, long sleeved, and skin tight, it wasn't something she would normally wear. Her chest was larger than her mother's, so the normally decent v-neck collar showed more than what was necessary, but she considered herself lucky. If her shirt had ended up wet, she wouldn't have been impressed. Walking around in a vest too many sizes too small did not seem appealing to her, therefore, the blue shirt of her mother's would have to do.

Rachel reached into the back of the locker, behind the books, and grabbed a hidden box. It was a present. Wrapped in pink paper, and tied with a white bow, the medium sized box didn't look like it should be in the possession of the dark teen, but Rachel smiled at the gift. On a white square on the box, it said 'to Melvin'. It was a birthday present for a little sibling.

"And just what do you think you're doing?" A voice echoed in the hallway, and Rachel clenched her jaw. People really needed to stop disrupting her thoughts.

"I'm putting a box into my bag, what does it look like I'm doing?" The violet haired teenager responded in a flat monotone, and Rachel stared up at one of the three vice principals of the school. Tall, bent, and old, Mr. Blud was one of the creepiest teachers in the school, and many rumors flew around the school of him, cults, and an alias of 'Brother Blood'.

"Well Missy, pink doesn't seem to be your colour" Mr. Blud took a small pause as Rachel glared up at him. She didn't trust the old man, something seemed off about him, and it wasn't just that he called her "Missy". "Give me the box, and I won't report you, Miss Roth. You know how hard this school works to keep drugs out." His voice was smooth, and Rachel fought to keep her emotion from her face. She was used to the rumors and whispers about her, and she knew that she looked like a druggie, but she never touched the stuff, it was beneath her.

"It's my personal property, you have no right to take it, and no proof that it contains drugs." Rachel responded calmly, but inside, she was snarling.

Without a word, Blud snatched the package from her loose hands, and Rachel stood up in a flash, her self control slipping. The lightest of pink flushed her cheeks in her anger, and Blud examined the pink present. Shaking it twice, and then tapping it, Rachel hoped that he was done. Her hoped were dashed, however, when the crooked old man ripped off the expensive pink wrapping to reveal a cheap brown cardboard box. Practically ripping open the box, Blud held up the contents. An old and worn, brown, stuffed bear; and a card.

"I found him for you last week, sorry he's late for your birthday...

I couldn't bring him to you in time...

He can protect you when I'm not there...

His name's Bobby.

I love you Mel, and so does Mom, where ever she is.

Rave."

Rachel had found the patched and old bear at a second hand store, and immediately thought of the little blond girl at home. It hadn't cost her much, and she knew that if he broke, she could easily fix him. But now she worried for the small, child's toy.

Blud stared at the bear, and sneered.

"How sentimental. However, I wouldn't put it past a delinquent as yourself to go past certain boundaries." The old man grabbed the bear at both sides of it's head, right under the ears, and pulled. The sound of ripping fabric was heard, and Rachel watched in horror and fury as the toy was torn in two. Cotton stuffing floated to the ground, and Blud's fingers raided the stuffed bear's remains. It took only moments, and the ground by his feet was covered in white fluff, ''Bobby'' becoming nothing more than a bear skin.

With a frustrated grunt, Blud flung teddy bear that no longer looked like a teddy bear to the tiled floor. He had found no drugs, just as Rachel knew he wouldn't, and the plum haired darkling knelt down to collect what was left of her little sister's present. She ignored Blud's retreating footsteps as she fingered the two limp remains of what used to be "Bobby".

with a sneer and a sigh, Rachel pocketed the two halves of the late stuffed bear, and stood up just as the end of lunch bell rang. Leaning over to grab her backpack and stuffing her wet hoodie inside it, Rachel straightened her self up before kicked the small pile of stuffing as went on her way. The grungy teenager wouldn't have enough money to rewrap the poor thing after she had it repaired. Shouldering her backpack once more, Rachel made her way to the deserted girl's washroom, the halls filling up with the mass of students. Pushing, yelling, and brainless students.


"Holy crap. what a bitch, eh Logan?" The blond muttered to Gar, a sneer clear on her beautiful face. Tara was everything an awkward boy could ask for in a girlfriend. She was attractive, with her slim body and big blue eyes; her sense of humor was flawless, she even laughed at Gar's corny jokes; and she got along with everyone. The blond socialite was nice and friendly to Gar's group of minor social outcasts, but at the same time, she had her own group of popular diva-friends. Kitten Moth, a rich little daddy's girl; and Connie, Kori Ander's older sister.

"She's in my English class... She's really smart." Gar muttered, watching with mild interest as the girl clothed in gray stalked off in a huff, and Tara scoffed beside him.

"She's all brains but no personality, Logan. Forget about her." Gar barely noticed as his girlfriend gave him a small peck on the cheek, a farewell kiss, and left for the popular table of the cafeteria. There, the beautiful blond chatted with Kitten and Connie, her mouth in a slight sneer as she gossiped (maliciously, Gar knew) about the majority of Jump High. Gar turned his attention back to his friends with a smile. It was strange that they were all friends, so different from each other as they were.

There were nine of them in all. Dick Grayson, at 17, he was one of Jump High's many teenage heart throbs. He was a trouble maker, and had crossed paths with Rachel Roth more than once. It never ended well, one always beating the other. But it didn't matter. Athletic, with jet black hair and eyes rumored to be icy blue (nobody knew for certain, since Dick never took off his sunglasses) he was the secret crush to many of the population of teenage girls. Not that they'd actually date him, he was too much of a social outcast, and he was taken.

Dick was involved with Kori Anders, 16 and a foreign model from somewhere in between western Europe, and far east Asia, nobody was completely sure. Really, she was a beauty, and perfect for modeling. Tall, tan, and jaw dropping gorgeous was the opinion of most of Jump City. She was considered fluent in English, though she didn't seem to get certain phrases or figures of speech, but her friends accepted her for who she was. However it was the quirks in her speech which kept her outside the popular circle, unlike her older sister, Connie.

Another unrightfully cast from the popular circle was Victor Stone, he was 18. Soccer star of Jump High, the 6'2 tall sport star was on his way to a full scholarship to any college he wished, but Victor didn't possess a mean bone in his body. While the popular crowd gossiped and sneered at those 'beneath' them, Vic was sure to stick up for the little man, the underdog. Too kind for the 'in' crowd, but too cool for the outcasts, Gar didn't know why the black giant stayed with them.

Wally West was another sports star at Jump. Part of the track team, the scrawny red head was the fastest boy in school, and had a horrible ego. Cocky, arrogant, and a nerd, the straight A student was total outcast material. He was 17, though he didn't look it. Girls tended to ignore him, and he was often the target of pranks, though he took it all in good spirit, and often got them back. It was a surprise that he had a girlfriend, let alone that he was dating Jinx.

She didn't give out her real name, her friends only knowing her as Jinx, and she let it be known that she was 15. Her hair rumored to be dyed pink (though her friends new better), the pale, petite girl was fond of leather. Black leather dresses, with matching boots and purple leggings was the definition of her closet. She was goth, and had a long criminal record. How she ended up with West was anyone's guess, but she was happy. The two were voted the oddest couple in Jump High, and Jinx was proud of it.

Voted hottest was Roy Harper, only one of them for the company he kept, and for his dating preferences. Harper was a womanizer, and a regular playboy, and still the women went crazy for him. 16, with short orange hair, and an athletic build, Roy was attractive and suave, a dangerous combination when it came to him. But he was a loyal friend, and never went after girls already called for.

Girl's weren't only on his hit list. Harper batted for the other team as well. An example was Garth. Another 'hottie' of Jump, the boy was dark, and mysterious. He drove the girls wilder than Roy ever could, but he wasn't interested. Garth was out of the closet, his reason for being one of them. He had been in a relationship with Roy, but what had happened between them, not even their friends knew.

The only one who didn't seem to belong with them was Tara. She had friends in the inner circles, and still, she stayed with Gar. She was 17, blond, with big blue eyes, and beach bunny skin. She was thin, and beautiful. But she held old habits. She'd snip and sneer at Jinx, the two would often get into fights. She'd make fun of Garth and Roy, and their odd relationship. And though she was helpful with teaching Kori proper English, she would sometimes mock the sweet girl. Though her friends were quick to forgive her little slip-ups, when the blond went too far with her jeers, it was only Gar who stood by her side when the others turned, and it was always Gar who got her to apologize. She would never do it on her own.

But still, Gar loved her. He was forgiving, and the youngest of the group at 15. Blond hair, green eyes. He was the shortest, but that was only because Jinx wore platform boots. Gar was the joker, the little brother, and as Victor would say, the 'annoying, veggie grass stain'.

"Yo, green bean." Gar tunred to find a large hand placed heavily on his shoulder. The hand belonged to Vic, and Logan looked up to find the soccer jock frowning down at him. "Come with me man, we gotta talk." Gar visivbly gulped. He knew just what his best friend wanted to talk about oo. Victor was friends with almost everyone in the school, or at least he tried to be. Stone's connection with Rachel wasn't that large, or well known for that matter, but Logan knew that a sheepishly guilty Grass Stain, and a sulky Rachel wasn't anything good.

Gar nodded silently, slightly ashamed of how he had laughed when he saw the goth girl's mug fly into the air, and the sour expression on her face afterwards. Without a word of protest, Gar allowed his friend to steer him towards the only place anyone could talk in privicy: the boy's bathroom on the east wing.

The bathroom was a wreck. Stall doors were lose on their hinges, and one or two were gone altogether; the sinks were grime covered, and they leaked rusy brown water constantly; the tiles on the floor and ceiling were either cracked or missing, exposing concrete and wireing; and graffeti was on almost every surface. Rachel was accustomed to the disaster around her, in a way she found it comforting, the peace and quiet it offered. Nobody ever entered the boys bathroom on the east wing.

Nearly stomping over to a sink, Rachel let the red, rust filled water fill her cupped hands, and spashed her face. The shock on the cold water on her cheeks, warm from anger, snapped her sense back, and she glanced at herself in the mirror. Jeans baggy, shirt three sizes too big, and a blue, long sleeved shirt too tight, she held a strange attraction. Purple eyes stared back at themselves, and Rachel was glad to see that her cheeks held some colour, and were the slightest shade of rosy, instead of the cold pale that she usually was.

Baggy jeans and a shirt too small. It was a brief summery of what she wore everyday. Kori Anders, a shy but enthusiastic girl from her Biology class, wore desiner clothing (her most notable being a purple miniskirt and a pink leather jacket that should have clashed horribly with her red hair, but some how appeared stunning on her), and Tara was always seen in skinny jeans and black pumps. Oversized hoodies and tattered shoes. Rachel wasn't materialistic. She didn't need clothing or appliences to make herself feel good.

"You should at least say you're sorry, I mean, she looked pretty upset." The sounds of voices the bathroom door swinging open broke Rachel of her thoughts for the third time that day, and Rachel found herself on the bathroom floor in surprise as two boys interruped her privacy. Jumping up, the purple haired teenager wished for her hoodie as she realized how low cut the blue, v-neck shirt of her mother's was, and a faint, rosy blush painted her cheeks once more.

She recognized both boys, and she felt her lips curl into a sneer as she noticed the blond haired boy walking in on her solitude. The boys noticed too, for Vctor stopped in his tracks. Logan noticed a second later, and his eyes widened in his nervousness. Rachel folded her arms across her chest, accidentally reminding everyone how low her top really was, but she reused to drop her arms.

"You can't come in here, bathroom's destroyed." Her tone was flat, and was deprived of emotion. She epected them to turn back, she didn't expext the annoying one to respond.

"You have less acess to this room than us. You're a girl." Rachel was speechless. Her back-talk switch was broken, she couldn't control the quality of her wit.

"Your point?" The purple eyed ice queen kicked herself inwardly for such a weak comeback, but the conversation didn't faulter.

"It's a men's bathroom. See the urinals?" He nodded to the chipped and yellow porcelain sculptures on the walls, and Rachel's sneer deepened.

"What's left of them, yes. But I doubt that you're here to use them, or any other facility in here." She had him, she knew it. He and his friend would turn and leave, and she'd be alone. Why she wanted it so much, Rachel had no idea.

"well... Maybe I'm here to apologize." Victor was flabergasted as he stayed and watched from the sidelines. They were almost talking instead of challenging one another. She wanted him gone, and he was trying to keep his ego in check, but it was like they were playing out an argument, like they were friends. At the mention of apologizing, Victor was sure that Rachel's cold demeanor would warm up, and that she would leave peacefully, instead, she tensed up, and glared at the boy just as tiny as she was.

"Apology denied. Now get out of my way." Her voice was pure ice, and Gar jumped back into the wall as she marched passed. The dark teen yanked the door open, and both boys noticed a small white square fall from her back jean pocket, and down to the ground.

Rachel didn't notice until Gar had leaned down to grap the small piece of paper in his hand, and even then, it was too late to stop him. He had read the small birthday card to Melvin. His emerald eyes moved back and forth, as her amythest ones narrowed in anger.

She moved fast. Her entire body moving forward as she leaned into Logan, and slammed his back into the cement wall behind him. Her left forearm was pressed against his neck and chest, holding him pinned, and her other hand snatched the paper from his. Her lips were dangerously close to Logan's ears as she spoke to him softly.

"Do you have anything to say to me, Logan?" She hissed at him, but he wasn't scared.

"You're a nice person." He choked out, and Rachel snarled. Her hand clenched into a fist, white piece of paper crumbled in her grasp, and she ramed her fist into the blond boy's stomach, leaving him breathless, and pressing againt her forearm, trying to kneal over himself. In a second quick motion, Rachel backed up, and let Gar fall to the ground. Victor watched, utterly speechless. He had never seen Rachel lash out so viciously over something so small and quiet. The soccer jock hadn't heard what the two teens had said to each other, be he had seen the response. Rachel let them be without another word, the bathroom door swung shut loudly.

"You okay man?"

"Yeah." Logan managed to gasp out. "Man, she can pack a punch!" Gar laughed, though it looked painful to do so, and Victor quickly joined him.