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My powers weren't completely back yet. I knew that much. I had no idea what had happened, not exactly, but I supposed it was something like a blown fuse, with too much energy coursing through my system -- more than I could actually handle. I thought I was able to feel my own emotions, but I dared not try too hard for fear I'd blow myself out again.
I hadn't been to see Jono yet. Not since the accident, but I'd made a promise to myself that I would after I'd eaten something. Because of the suddenness of the accident -- I still felt terribly guilty for it -- nobody had made any dinner, and it was now nearly 9:30 and I still hadn't eaten anything yet. I made my way into the kitchen.
I opened the refrigerator, found nothing of interest, and closed it. I next opened the freezer and took out something in a red box covered in ice flakes. It was cold and started to stick to my hand. I put the box on the counter and turned it onto its side with a loud, icy clank. I did as the instructions instructed, tearing the cover from the frozen meal and placing it in the microwave for four minutes. As I watched the box spin slowly in the microwave, I heard nobody come into the kitchen.
"H'lo," I said, turning to see who nobody disguised herself as this time. It was Alison, and her hair was green. Right behind her was a grey nobody who was saying things to her.
The microwave beeped just as Alison opened the refrigerator. I took my dinner from the microwave and stirred it with a fork I'd taken from a nearby drawer.
"Jen?" Alison called. No, not Alison -- she wasn't here. Nobody. My dinner was hot; the steam came off it in pretty waves rising from the thick noodles covered with brown sauce. There was even a meatball. But there were probably mushrooms in it. That wasn't good. I would have to pick them out and throw them away. I moved the noodles around with my fork and looked for the mushrooms.
"Help!" Alison squeaked.
I glanced up. She was stuck to the refrigerator like some kind of green-haired magnet.
"What?" I asked.
"I'm stuck to the refrigerator!" she said. She was talking fast and loud like Paige was before. She didn't need to do that; I could hear her just fine. And I would understand her better if she talked slower.
But she was most certainly stuck to the refrigerator. "That's nice," I commented, and took my dinner to the table. I stirred it again and found that there were no mushrooms. That was good.
But I was getting cold. Maybe if I ate my warm food I would be warm, too. Unfortunately, as soon as I brought the noodles to my mouth, I found that they were too hot, and I dropped the fork, causing sauce to splatter all over my T-shirt. That would have to be cleaned.
Abandoning my dinner, I proceeded to the sink, passing the nobody that was still firmly affixed to the refrigerator. She was muttering something under her breath. I couldn't hear what she was saying. It didn't matter.
I took a towel and soaked it, wrung it out, and attended to the stain on my shirt.
"Jen, are you okay?" asked the green-haired nobody.
"Yeah," I answered, finding no need to look up as I scrubbed.
"I'm stuck," she repeated.
"I know."
"Jen!"
I looked up at her sharp tone, which wasn't really necessary. "Don't shout," I instructed. "It hurts my ears."
The grey-skinned nobody snickered and played with his orange yo-yo. It spun in circles around him, nearly hitting the ceiling before coming back down and quietly spinning by his feet. That was a neat trick. I couldn't do anything with a yo-yo. Sometimes I wished I could, so I could do neat tricks. It didn't matter now, though. I was hungry and my head hurt.
I abandoned the towel, deciding the sauce would not come out so quickly. My food was likely cooler now, so I returned to the table to continue eating it.
It was brown and it was warm.
When I finished, I threw the package away and kindly asked the green-haired nobody if she could retrieve a cold Pepsi from the fridge that she was stuck to. Instead of doing so, she gave me a level look and told me, "Go away."
What, she didn't like me, either? I was thirsty, and I couldn't get into the fridge if she insisted on being stuck to it like that. But that was okay. Instead I got a glass of water, and took it with me upstairs to my room. It was getting late, and I wanted to go to sleep.
(*Jen?*)
I thought I heard somebody calling my name, but that was silly. There wasn't ever somebody. There was only nobody, and he never called my name like that.
(*Can you hear me?*)
I thought I could hear him, but it would be even sillier if I said that I did hear him when in actuality I didn't really hear him. I ignored the voice that couldn't possibly be there, and took my glasses off and turned off the light. My room was dark, and so was the ceiling.
(*I wish I could hear you, too. I hope you're getting this. I don't know if it's working. It doesn't matter if you do, I mean, I want this to work, but if it doesn't I suppose that's okay, too. There's something I want to tell you. No -- something I need to tell you. But I can't tell you now. I have to tell you in person. I'm getting better, Jen. That wasn't what I had to tell you, but it's something, and it's true. I'm getting better. That I can even talk to you is proof enough of that. But then again, I don't know if I'm talking to you, because I'm not sure if it's working.*)
That voice talking to me started to sound familiar.
(*I don't know what's happened, or why nothing was working properly. I want it to work. I've never had anyone understand me the way that she has. I don't know if that's because of the link, or if that was something that happened before the link. I wish I knew. But I don't want to terminate it. That's odd, isn't it? That I don't want it to end? The truth of the matter is that I don't want to let go. I don't want to lose her. She's different ... but I can't ... *)
The voice faded. I wondered for a moment if this was all just my imagination. It had to be. After all, Jono wasn't really here, and I had no way of knowing if he was really talking to me, since the link was broken, and it probably wouldn't be repairing itself anyway. It just didn't work like that. It was just dead and gone, and I couldn't fix it.
Of course it wasn't really Jono. I turned over in bed and pulled the blanket closer around my face.
I watched in not horror, but a kind of detached disbelief as Jen walked stiffly out of the kitchen, right by me as if I didn't exist. And even if she could have otherwise ignored me, wasn't it kind of hard to ignore a person stuck to the refrigerator?! This was not fun, in my opinion. I didn't even know how this happened - one minute, I was pulling open the heavy white door to get a diet pop, and then next I was plastered to the front like a huge green-haired magnet. I did not want to be stuck to the fridge, and Angelo was not helping in the least; in fact, he was making things worse. He stood across the kitchen from me, flicking his orange yo-yo inches away from my face, wearing the biggest smirk imaginable on that malleable grey face of his. And it was annoying. He reminded me of my friend from back home, Jason. He went nowhere without his yo-yo, and probably would have stood there and laughed at me in the same manner in which Angelo was now doing. Great. Just Great.
"So, how's it goin', Lorna?" Angelo asked, emphasizing Polaris's name. Yeah, there was that too - someone, most likely whose name began with a J and ended with a "lee," had decided that it might be fun to put green hair dye in Alison's shampoo and make her end up looking like an incredibly short Lorna Dane. Not exactly my idea of a hilarious joke, but obviously certain other people found it as such. I had tried to wash the dye out about three times now, and it was definitely not working. If anything, I thought my hair was now brighter green than it had originally started out as.
"Shut up, Angelito." I snapped back, wishing he would take that yo-yo and strangle himself for all I cared. My head hurt, my stomach hurt, I was still thirsty, and I was not feeling particularly wanted or cared about at this point in time. And I still didn't know why I was stuck to the stupid fridge, like Joseph on a bad day. Or Lorna, more appropriately. And I wanted to get off this Georging appliance before Angelo got it in his sick mind to go find a Polaroid camera. God, I hoped he wouldn't think of that. I hoped that almost as much as I hoped that I would become magically unstuck from the refrigerator, just like I had somehow become stuck to it.
This wasn't my mutant power, I reasoned. At least, I tried to reason - I really wasn't quite sure what my power was yet, although Emma and Sean believed it to be telekinetic or something like that in nature. But that wouldn't have gotten me stuck to the fridge, would it? Why me? I silently questioned the orange disk as it whizzed by my face yet again. I was getting fed up with it, as I was with this whole situation. Just like Jennifer blowing me off - that was so unlike her. I mean, she wasn't that taken with Jono, was she? I certainly hoped not…
"Angelo, stop it!!" I yelled, finally getting sick of the stupid Georging yo-yo whizzing by my face every two seconds. "If you're not going to get me off this Georging thing, then either get someone who can or leave me alone!!"
The yo-yo stopped, a bright pink tongue stuck itself in my direction, and Angelo turned on his heel and sauntered out of the kitchen, chuckling to himself as he exited.
"Suit yourself, Lorna." was what I could make out as his form retreated down the hallway. Well, this was just great. Now I was still stuck to the fridge, with no one to help me get off of it. Jen was off in la-la land, Angelo was busy laughing at me behind my back, and no one else cared. I wanted to curl up and go to sleep right there, but that wasn't going to work, seeing as I was plastered across the magnetic front of the icebox.
The kitchen fell silent, save for the electrical humming of the refrigerator. I was beginning to get annoyed - how the George was I supposed to detach myself from this thing, anyway? Eventually someone would wander in, but -
My thoughts were interrupted as Everett walked into the kitchen; he stopped in his tracks when he saw me and I could tell he was desperately trying to suppress his laughter. It wasn't working very well.
"Fine," I sighed, looking at the floor and probably inventing a new shade of crimson. "Laugh - I'm sure it's funny, so go ahead." I crossed my arms and sighed again. Everett laughed a bit, but to my relief he came over, still smiling.
"So you really are stuck," he confirmed, shaking his head.
"Yes, I really am stuck. Do you think I'm just standing here glued to the fridge because I want to be?"
He smiled again, but grabbed my hand with both of his and put one leg up against the white metallic door to brace himself.
"Ready?"
"Sure … what …"
He yanked hard and although I stuck at first, after about five seconds of tugging I finally came free. Of course, this caused us to fly backwards and we ended up in a heap on the opposite side of the kitchen.
"Thank you!" I said, exasperated but thankful to be rid of the refrigerator nonetheless. My back was sore now, and my head hurt, and I'd probably never hear the end of this. But at least I wasn't stuck to the stupid refrigerator anymore.
"No problem." Ev grinned and stood up as I tried to drag myself off of the floor by grabbing the table. "What happened?"
"I don't know! I was just in here trying to get a pop, and suddenly I was stuck to the fridge. It wasn't like a conscious choice or anything. I'd rather not be stuck to any mechanical appliances, thank you very much. And now everything hurts and I want to go to bed," I whined.
Ev just stood there as I complained, and made no effort to move as I stumbled out of the kitchen towards the girls' dorm.
"Oh, Alison?" he called as I left.
I turned around and stopped to hear what he had to say.
"Nice hair."
I managed to make it up to my room without meeting anyone and I slammed the door shut behind me as I walked over to the CD player and punched the PLAY button. I turned to volume up nearly as loud as it would go and "Enter Sandman" filled the room as I flopped down on my bed and stared at my plain white ceiling. I felt, well, pretty darn crappy. My back was sore, my head was buzzing, I was tired, I felt unwanted and like an object of mere amusement, and on top of all that, my hair was green. This was not fun.
I wanted a reason not to get right up then and there and jump off the roof of the dorm, and unfortunately I could not find one. Great, maybe I should just jump off. Maybe I'd get better, and then I could go off to Seacouver to visit Duncan and Richie… Yeah, and while I was at it, I might as well stop off in Cascade and see how Blair's thesis was coming along, right? Sure, Alison, you need some help. I suddenly missed Blair and Richie and Jim and Methos and Duncan, and Joe and even Amanda and Simon. Why? I was among Generation X, practically the X-Men, and I missed Richie and Blair? What was wrong with me? Wasn't visiting one form of media enough?
But no one cared here, either. Did they? Well, Ev did enough to get me off the stupid fridge, but that wasn't enough. I wanted someone to care that I might actually jump off the roof, but I couldn't think of a single person who would. I got the feeling that Jen didn't care about a darn thing right now - she was just kind of floating off in her own little happy world without a care or a concern or a worry in the world. Everyone else had someone else to worry about - Jono about Jen, Everett about Jubes (and how I was going to kill her), Paige about Jono, Angelo about Paige in some way, Monet about herself and Penny about nothing - which left no one to worry about me.
I found myself getting off my bed and walking over to the window and leaning out. Was this high enough? Maybe just high enough so that I'd break my leg or something. Then maybe I could take a rest, sit back and just watch life for a while instead of being so privy to its every whim. That was getting old, and it was getting old pretty darn fast. Then again, with my luck my mutant power would suddenly decide to be invincibility and no matter how high the precipice I jumped off, it wouldn't matter, and that wouldn't get anywhere. Then again, I could always die, and then I supposed I wouldn't really be anywhere either.
Well, then, this was going to get me far, no? I supposed I should postpone jumping out the window for a little while… at least until this next song was over. I kind of liked it. I went back and sat down on the bed again, sighing heavily and staring up at the ceiling. So, what should I do in possibly my last moments on Earth? Take some Tylenol - that was a welcome option. But in that case, I would have to go downstairs, and I really didn't want to do that. Maybe…
When I woke up, I was very cold, and very stiff. The room was dark, and upon inspection the glowing green numbers of my alarm clock told me that it was 8:00 in the evening. Great - that meant that I would have to get up and face the world again. Let's just not, okay? Regardless of my reluctance to even move, however, it was cold in here. Shivering, I got up off my bed and closed my window, which had been left open for hours, if the clock and the absence of the sun were any indication. Had I really fallen asleep? How long? What time had it been last time I checked? I couldn't remember. I went over and turned the power to my CD player off, noting with some amusement that if I had fallen asleep, which it did indeed appear had been the case, it had been with none other than Metallica at full blast in the background. Now, if that wasn't an accomplishment, then what was?
Well, the fact that my stomachache had compounded itself, for one. I felt horrible, more physically than mentally now. Not that I didn't still feel like the world's punching bag, but my stomach hurt more than my ego right now, and I was willing to forego any attempts at cutting myself off from human contact in order to get some Pepto Bismol. Then maybe I'd come up and consider the window again; but not until after my stomach felt better.
I slowly made my way downstairs, wary of meeting anyone on my way to the medicine cabinet in the kitchen. Although most of the medical supplies were kept appropriately in the med lab, the everyday stuff was kept in a small cabinet in the kitchen. And wouldn't ya know, the cabinet was over the refrigerator. Great, just great - now how was I supposed to get the stuff down? At least the kitchen was empty, I thought, as I walked in and switched on the light. My stomach hurt too much to find a chair and all the phone books in the building to climb on top of, and I still didn't want to get anywhere near that refrigerator - I was not about to get stuck to that thing again. I sighed and collapsed onto the chair nearest to me, wondering how exactly I was going to get the medicine down. I felt tired still, not ready to do anything, and the pain in my gut was the only thing preventing me from falling asleep again right then and there. I wondered if I sat there long enough and ignored it if then it might not be enough to keep me awake. Who knew? Who cared?
I buried my head in my arms on the kitchen table, wishing the pain away. That didn't work, so I tried forcefully willing it away instead. No such luck. Screw Riggs and Murtaugh, I was thinking, when a sound from over by the doorway caught my attention. I wasn't willing to lift my head; I figured whoever it was could just tell me who they were, if they cared to do so at all.
"Uh… chica? Yo, Lorna?" Well, who else could that be?
Not lifting my head from the table, I managed a "Mmf," or something considerably close. The footsteps got closer, and I could practically feel Angelo standing over me.
"Chica, you all right? You didn't come down for dinner. We had pizza…" he enticed. Oh God, the very idea of pizza was enough to make me want to throw up. I remained silent, trying not to think about food and willing Angelo to go away and leave me alone. That wasn't working, either, but it didn't stop me from trying.
Then I heard another sound. Like a "whizz, whizz" that I soon recognized to be the sound caused by the motion of a yo-yo up and down its string. Oh great, not that thing again. If it even almost got stuck in my hair…
"Goway." I decided to be slightly more direct this time, given that my willing him away didn't appear to be working.
"No." Now he just sounded indignant. Wonderful.
"GoWAY."
"NO."
"Thibbit."
There was a pause, and the yo-yo stopped moving. "Thibbit? What is that?"
I nearly laughed - something which I didn't really want to do, considering my present condition. It came out more as a laugh/"ow", which Angelo found more amusing than my original "thibbit."
"Stop it!" I whined into the table. "It hurts!"
"What hurts?" Angelo managed to get out in between laughs.
"My stomach. Don't make me laugh!" I insisted.
"Well, did you take any medicine?"
"No." If I could have stuck my tongue out at him, I would have.
"Well, why not?" Now he was starting to sound condescending.
"'Cause." I knew that if I told him the real reason - that I couldn't reach the medicine - he'd never leave me alone even more than he'd never leave me alone for my hair and my speech and my life…
"Why not?"
I remained silent, refusing to tell him. Of course, this was almost more direct than admitting it, because when he next spoke there was definite mockery in his voice.
"Oh, I get it. You can't reach it, can you?"
"SHUT UP!!!"
He laughed. "You can't!"
"SHUT UP!!! GOWAY!! LEMMELONE!!!"
"Fine, have it your way." He walked out of there slowly, banging that stupid yo-yo on as many cabinets as he possibly could in the process. It was so unnerving that I practically got up and followed him out of there to strangle him with it myself, but I just wasn't up to it. I just wanted to sleep, but I wasn't going to be able to do that until my stomach stopped hurting, and it wasn't going to do that until I got some medicine, and I wasn't going to do that until I grew another two feet. Where did Emma keep those butcher knives again?
My arm inadvertently slid out from underneath my head, and as it did so it hit something. I lifted my head, wondering what I'd hit, since the table had been cleared when I decided to use it for a very inefficient pillow. And there, sitting right next to my head, was a bottle of Pepto Bismol and a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup.
I trekked back up the stairs, not really feeling all that much better despite the Pepto Bismol. Of course, I was amazed and almost flattered that Angelo had gotten it for me; unfortunately, I still felt as sick and worthless and unwanted as ever. I was just in one of those moods, and no matter how nice or caring someone was to me, right now I was stuck in my worthless rut and not planning on digging myself out anytime soon.
I groped through the hall, finally reaching the last room and stumbling inside. The green numbers of my clock glowed 1:57 AM in the darkness as I tripped over a pair of jeans strewn across the floor. I crashed onto the floor in a heap in front of my desk - this was just turning out to be the most pleasant night …
As I climbed back to my feet, I hit the PLAY button on my CD player, blasting Metallica I cared not how loud, not caring what time it was or who might notice. They didn't care about me - why should I care about them? It seemed perfectly logical to me. I crawled underneath my blanket, wishing I felt better, wishing someone cared, wishing I was someplace else.
It wasn't that I didn't want to fall asleep. I did. Very much. But I didn't really seem to have a choice in the matter.
I was glad that Alison had chosen the room down the hall. I was glad I wasn't someone's roommate. I was glad it was time to go to sleep. I was not, however, glad that Alison had chosen the ungodly hour of two o'clock in the morning to veritably blast Metallica so that the angry strains of noise could be heard throughout the girls' dorm. If she didn't turn it off within the next minute I swore I would march down there and turn it off myself.
Sixty seconds passed without relief. I threw the covers off and, sockless, stomped down the hallway to Alison's room. Out of sheer politeness I knocked, but my knock obviously couldn't be heard, so I opened the door myself and explained into the dark, "I am not going to Never Never Land!"
I expected the light to turn on in the few moments after that, but it remained off. She couldn't actually be asleep, could she? How could anyone sleep with such noise? I had come to expect the odd from her, but this went beyond even mere oddity. Naturally, I didn't get it, but went to the CD player, which was glowing in the darkness, and hit what I thought was the stop button. Beautiful silence filled the room, though my ears still ran from my close proximity to the speakers.
"I was listening to that," a low, muffled voice informed me.
She was awake! "How could you listen to that?" I asked. "It's two AM! And that was loud!"
"Mgfff," she explained."Oh," I replied. "Well, then. Some of us are trying to sleep." With that I turned and left the room before she could counter my statement with another.
I poked my head reluctantly into the open doorway, glancing around the office until I saw Mr. Cassidy seated behind his computer, partially hidden from view by a stack of files and papers piled high next to his monitor.
"Mr. Cassidy?" I asked weakly, hoping to get this overwith as quickly as possible so I could go hole up in my room and shut out the world again. My nose was only a little clearer since I'd woken up and my head still ached with a ferocity; I wished the pain would just go away for the millionth time as I heard the clack of keys on the keyboard halt at my inquiry.
"Ah, come in, lass." Mr. Cassidy poked his head out from around the computer. "How are ye feelin'?" he asked as I sat down gingerly in one of the three chairs across from his desk. He shoved the stack of papers aside and came into full view as I sat there, looking around the office and wondering why he'd called me in there. I just wanted to be in bed.
His office was comfortably messy - not to the point of total chaos, but with piles of papers here and there on the floor and a few discarded coke cans on the desk. One filing cabinet drawer hung open, some its contents apparently missing, most presumably present in the stack of files on his desk. This was much better than Emma's pristine, painfully clean and immaculately white office, I thought.
"Eh," I said, "okay, I guess. Better, but my head still hurts and so does my stomach."
He nodded, concerned. "I'm sorry to have to call ye out of bed like this, but Ms. Frost and I need to have a brief talk with you and Jen about yuir powers. We figured it would be better to do this together in one session."
Oh, great. The words "brief" and "powers" did not belong in the same sentence together. It just wasn't possible. So they wanted to talk about our powers? Then where were Emma and Jen? They must not be here, I reasoned. I sighed, the air rushing loudly out of my lungs as I contemplated the possible implications of this "talk." This was definitely gonna take a while…
Just then, a curt knock sounded at the doorway and Emma walked in, sitting down in one swift motion in the chair closest to the side of the desk, positioned more behind it than the one I was sitting in and the last vacant chair, presumably Jen's.
"Good morning," she said, looking at first Sean, who nodded, and then me.
"Hi," I managed. I looked around the room again for lack of anything better to do, as Emma leaned over and whispered something to Sean before looking at his monitor and reaching over to tap some keys and read some more.
She leaned back in her chair again and folded her hands, addressing me now. "I assume Mr. Cassidy has informed you as to the reason you are here?"
"Yeah." I nodded. "You want to talk about our powers."
"Yes," she said. "We feel that both you and Jen have now reached a point at which you need to begin to learn conscious control of -"
"Hi - what's going on?" Jen poked her head in the door before coming in and sitting down in the last chair, glancing nervously at Emma before focusing her gaze on Sean.
Emma sighed nearly inaudibly. "As I have already explained, Mr. Cassidy and I would like to have a talk with you and Alison about your powers. More specifically, developing more control over them."
"But I don't even really know what my power is!" I interjected. "Is it even telekinesis?"
"Actually," Sean began, tapping some keys, "we've come to believe that yuir power is not based solely in telekinesis, but a myriad of other things."
"Your power has no specific signature - in essence, you have the ability to adapt to any situation," Emma went on to explain.
Jen and I cast glances in each other's direction; she silently mouthed "borg" before we looked once more at Emma as she went on. "Your power is much like Synch's, in that you can mold it into whatever you require at the time. However, it differs in that you do not need a blueprint to work from. You can change the essence of your ability without the presence of another mutant."
"Basically, lass, we're talking about something on the level of Franklin Richards," Sean said.
"What?!" I asked, totally confused. That wasn't possible - Franklin was like the most powerful mutant on Earth. There was no way I could even be remotely close to being on the same level as him. Next to me, Jen was practically visibly radiating confusion as well, but that was probably due more to the fact that she didn't even know who Franklin was.
Sean, on the other hand, was nodded despite my disbelief. "It's true - if ye can change your ability into whatever you need it to be, you could be virtually invincible."
Wow. That was insane - not to mention about as scary as you could get. What if it got out of control? What if I blew up the entire school? That would be very bad…
"And that is why it is our duty to ensure that you receive the proper training," Emma said. "You need to be taught to consciously control this power, so that you do not, in essence, 'blow up the entire school.' "
I nodded slowly, taking this in. Next to me, Jen was obviously getting bored and restless. "What about me?"
Emma considered Jen for a moment before answering. "Your powers are not something to be taken lightly," she finally said. "There's no way to truly train you in the uses of empathy. It is a skill you must learn to master on your own. You're the only teacher you'll ever really have."
She turned back to me for a moment. "The same applies to you. We can't truly train you in something so variant."
"Aye," Sean agreed. "All we can do is help you become conscious and aware of your powers - and eventually you'll get that control."
I nodded, hoping that he was right. Control would definitely be a very good thing. Jen bit her lip and looked to the front panel of his desk; it seemed like she didn't want to be here, didn't want to deal with this. It was like she didn't even think this was worth her time - like Emma and Sean didn't know what they were talking about and weren't sincere. I, on the other hand, thought the complete opposite of what she radiated. I understood that it was different with each mutant - you never knew what you were dealing with, and though the general of learning how to control a power was the same each time, each was specific and every time they faced something new that they, in truth, had no idea of how to control.
Jen sighed. "So what's this all about?"
"It's about taking responsibility - taking the initiative to learn about your powers and not simply expecting us to magically come up with the answer," Emma continued.
Sean nodded. "It's the same with any new student. We know the basics of learning to control a mutant power - but it's different with every student."
There! What had I just thought? "We've never dealt with powers exactly like yours before," he went on. "It's true your powers are like Synch's, but there's still a big difference between what you do. Even with a mutation as general as telepathy, each telepath's powers are different."
"I can lecture you on grammar and history," Emma added, "and Mr. Cassidy can inform you of the finer points of mathematics and science. I can explain how your powers work, the mechanics of the astral plane, or a metamorph's physical-chemical instabilities and how they are applied -- but in all truth, mastering one's own power is best compared to artistry."
Artistry? Whatever - maybe she was just trying to play mind games with Jen. Let them deal with that. I just hoped that I would get to study with Sean rather than Emma. I just wanted to get this control they were assuring me I would eventually end up with - I had no idea what I was doing, and I definitely wasn't consciously in control of my powers. Up to this point, they'd always just happened, without any conscious attempts by me to muster them.
"We will begin working on a way for you to maintain conscious control over them on Monday," Emma added. "Mr. Cassidy and I will go over all your files this weekend in order to devise the best method for you to maintain this control."
I nodded, glad that I would hopefully soon have a way to control all of this. That, I decided, would be a whole lot less detrimental to my existence.
"That is all," Emma said, and I got up to leave.
I nodded, glad that I would hopefully soon have a way to control all of this. That, I decided, would be a whole lot less detrimental to my existence.
"That is all," Emma said, and Jen got up to leave; I was right behind her.
"Thanks," I said, Jen said nothing, and we left. I closed the door behind me as the white walls of the outside hall greeted me. Jen was already walking swiftly away, as if she had some prior engagement. Either that, or she didn't want to catch whatever it was that I had that was making me miserable. I walked down the hall, headed nowhere in particular, just wandering wobbily as my brain got used to the idea of standing up after having been seated. It didn't seem to be able to handle the idea, however, and I made my way carefully back down the stairs to the deserted kitchen, where I sat in one of the chairs by the table in hopes of regaining my balance.
I hoped it would at least come back before this afternoon - we had a training session in the Biosphere later, and despite the fact that I couldn't yet get my powers to work properly, I was still required to be there.
