As the taxi pulled up in front of the school, Skylar Daen had to suppress a shiver. The main building sat back from the road, a green stretch of lawn before it riddled with grey sidewalks. Low brick walls separated the grounds from the road, and in front of the massive brick building, to one side of the rotunda-shaped porch staked with white pillars, stood a large sign. Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, it read, its raised letters carved from the stone of the sign, casting faint shadows that marred the white of the stone. The windows of the building gleamed in the late sunlight, blankly staring at the young girl still sitting in the taxi. They gave off no signs of life. "Are you sure we're at the right place?" Skylar asked, toying nervously with the torn hem of her black miniskirt.

"This is the only school out this far," the cabdriver said, looking back at her in the rear-view mirror. She raised her gaze to meet his in the tempered glass.

"That isn't exactly an answer," she said.

"Hey," the cabbie said, shrugging. "Ya asked to be taken here. I took ya here. Now ya want I should take ya back to town? I'll have to charge ya double."

Skylar opened the door of the cab and climbed out of the back seat. "No," she said, closing the door and waiting for him to get out as well. "If this is the place . . ."

"It is." With that, the cabbie reached down below his seat. Behind her, the trunk popped open. Leaning out of his open window, he said, "Hope ya don't mind gettin' your own bags, doll. What with my bad back and all -- ya understand."

"Uh-huh." Skylar walked around the back of the car and pushed the trunk open wide. From space between the car and the hood of the trunk, she could see the cabbie, watching her from the mirror. When he saw her looking, he smiled, a little too widely.

As she hefted her bags out of the car, he called, "I'd help ya, but I'm sure it ain't too much for ya to handle." What he didn't say was mirrored in his eyes. She was supposed to be "gifted," wasn't she, going here? And everyone knew that another word for "gifted" was "mutant."

There were only four bags, but they were awkward, so she sat them down on the road behind the car. As she was about to close the trunk, the cabbie called out again. "Close that for me, will ya?" Narrowing her eyes, she slammed the trunk shut. Coming around the driver's side to pay him, he smiled warily. "Thanks." Skylar handed him a twenty, but when he took the money, he held it between two fingers like it was covered in slime. "I don't seem to have any change on me."

"Figures," Skylar said, and before she could back away from the car he took off, leaving her engulfed in a plume of exhaust that burned her eyes, making them water. Her lower lip trembled, but she vowed she wouldn't cry, not now, not here, in the middle of some street in Massachusetts. But she was tired -- her plane had left California late the night before, and she couldn't get used to the idea that she was suddenly four hours ahead of where her internal clock told her she should be. Walking back to her bags, she tried juggling them, the small one over her shoulder, her backpack over her other shoulder, a large bag in both hands. But the bags wouldn't cooperate, and she couldn't handle them all at once. Suddenly, the attitude of the cabbie, which had become insolent once he found out where she was headed, and the jetlag caught up with her. Dropping her bags to the ground, she pouted, and kicked at the nearest of the bags. Inside of it, glass shattered, and she couldn't remember what was in there that could break, and right now she didn't care. Her eyes filled with tears that fell despite her wishing them away, and she sat down on the ground and was about to give up when she heard someone walking through the grass behind her.

*It can't be that bad, gel.*

Turning around, Skylar saw him approach. His face was hidden -- his eyes by the auburn hair hanging in front of his brow, and his mouth by a black scarf that was wrapped tightly around his upper body. His fists were shoved deep within the pockets of his black leather jacket, similar to hers but in much better condition. When the wind blew his hair back from his face, his eyes were watching her intently. Skylar wiped at her own eyes in vain, her fingers coming away streaked with black eyeliner. She hoped she didn't look like a raccoon. He spoke again. *Yer the new kid?*

She nodded, her chest hitching as she tried to stop crying. *The name's Jono,* he said, holding a hand out to her. She took it, not really shaking it rather than using it as a lever to lift herself off of the dusty road. Wiping the dirt from the back of her skirt, she nodded again. *Don't yer talk?*

"Yeah," she said, sighing. "Yeah I do. It's just that there's not much to talk about right now." She ran a hand through her cropped hair, dark green thanks to some dye she bought at an airport out in Chicago on a stopover earlier in the day. "I mean, I . . . " She looked at him again. "My name's Skylar."

Now it was his turn to nod. Without another word, he moved to her bags, lifting the two largest, and led the way back to the large building. Quickly she grabbed the other two bags and jogged to catch up with him. Now she saw the door between the two pillars standing wide open, but there was no one else around. "You Mr. Cassidy?" Skylar asked as they climbed the few stairs leading to the porch.

*No,* Jono said, setting her bags against the wall and shutting the door.

"I didn't think so," Skylar said, surveying the room. It looked almost like a waiting room, with sofas and chairs strewn about, a few tables covered in magazines, and closed doors leading off to unseen rooms. A stairway wound up out of sight, and Skylar turned to Jono. "I got the impression from the letter that he was a little older than you."

*Yer got a letter?* Jono asked, leading her to the nearest sofa.

"You got any food?" Skylar asked, reluctant to sit down right away. She had been on the move for so long, it was hard to imagine that this was finally a place to stay.

One of the doors led to a kitchen, and Skylar began rummaging through the cupboards as Jono poured her a glass of water. *Who was the letter from?* he asked.

Sitting at the square table, Skylar piled the bags of chips and boxes of cereal she had found before her, suddenly ravenous. Through a mouthful of food, she said, "Some professor. Said he wanted me to come here, though I can't imagine why. This looks like a pretty private school, with only one other student, and all."

*I'm not the only one,* Jono said, but before he could continue, she interrupted him.

"What's the scarf for? It doesn't get that cold here, does it?"

Pulling down one side of the scarf, he showed her why he was at Xavier's school. Psionic power swirled beneath the confines of the scarf, which she now saw was simply a huge bandage. Pushing back from the table, she said, "No."

Jono nodded, but her wide eyes didn't see him anymore. The color drained from her face, and the horror there suddenly made Jono feel very sad, as if he had expected she would act differently. *'Sokay, gel -- I won't hurt yer.*

"I'm not a mutant," she whispered. "I don't know why I got that letter, or why I even came, but I'm not a mutant." A panicky expression flickered across her face. "How can I be a mutant when I don't have any powers?"

"You said you weren't the only one," Skylar said, stuffing a handful of chips into her mouth. "Where are the others?"

When she had calmed down, she had told Jono that it wasn't because he was a mutant that she had reacted that way -- it was because she wasn't one, and she didn't know what she was doing at a school for them. Then she had dived into the food, pulling her legs up beneath her on the seat so that she sat a little higher than him, and he could no longer see the torn fishnet stockings she wore or the clunky Doc Martin's on her feet. With her ripped tank top and rusty chains on her faded leather jacket, she looked like a throwback to the punk era, but he got the impression that fashion wasn't high on her list of priorities. Her dark eyes flashed when she talked, and she kept looking around, as if expecting at any moment for all of this to be taken away from her, as if she would be alone again. When she looked at him, it was shyly, with an expression in her eyes that he couldn't read. He hoped the others would stay out for a while more.

*They went to an art show,* he said, shrugging. *1 didn't want to go.*

"Because you don't like art or because you don't like crowds?" When he looked up at her, she ducked her head. "I'm sorry -- I wouldn't have gone because I don't like crowds. They make me nervous." She stared at the bag of chips in front of her. "I didn't mean --"

*I know.*

They sat in silence for a few minutes, and then she asked, "So, like, what do you do here?"

*We go to classes, learn to be superheroes.* The way she looked at him made him want to smile, but he had lost the ability to do that long ago.

"Seriously?" When he nodded, she seemed to think this over. "There's no way I'm going to get out of this place," she said, sighing. "First off, I'm not a mutant, and if that's a requirement for graduation, then I better not be planning my party anytime soon. Second, I haven't been in a school for years -- I doubt I'll be the next valedictorian here."

Jono seized on the opportunity to know more about her. *Why 'aven' t yer been in school?*

She sighed. Placing her hand over his, a gesture which made his skin tingle, she said, "My life has been hell." Looking at him, her gaze lingering over the bandage that covered the gaping hole in his chest, she whispered, "I guess I don't have to tell you that."

He shook his head slightly, and she squeezed his hand. "I was really young," she began, "when I started getting these awful headaches. The doctor said it was just stress, but how much stress can a ten-year-old have, I ask you? He said he wanted me to see this other guy, Professor X or something, but I was scared and convinced my parents I was fine. Then one night, I wake up to find this blinding light streaming in through my window." She smiled wryly. "At first I was like, cool! Aliens and stuff. I'd be on Unsolved Mysteries, or whatever it is. But then this huge hand came through the wall, reaching for me. It was attached to the largest robot I have ever seen, and I ran. My family ran. And I've been running ever since."

Tears glistened in her eyes, and Jono placed his other hand over hers, hoping she would see it as a sign of support. "I ran," she whispered, her voice cracking with sobs. "But they kept following me, and soon I realized it was only when I was around others that they could find me. So I left my family somewhere in the south, afraid to cause them any more pain. And I kept on moving, never staying in one place for fear they'd find me again."

*How did Xavier find you?* Jono asked.

"I don't know. But one day I got this phone call, at a pay phone of all places. It was this woman, telling me everything was alright. She asked me where I was staying, but I wouldn't tell her, so she asked if she could send me something general delivery. I figured, 'Why not?' So a few days later I get this letter from Xavier, telling me that I should enroll in this school." She sighed. "With no other options, I decided what the hell. I didn't know what else to do, where else to go. I'd been on the run for seven years -- I've almost forgotten what my family looked like. I can't even remember my little brother's name -- he was born right before I left . . ."

They sat together, silent, as Jono tried to find something to say, something to comfort this girl crying into her arms beside him. Suddenly, he heard the sound of a car pulling up outside, and the slam of a door told him that the others were back. *Gel,* he said, leaning closer to her. *The others, they're 'ere.*

Raising her head, she looked at him, her eyes ringed with makeup, her nose red from crying. She looked so vulnerable at that moment that he had to stop himself from pulling her to him, and he pushed back roughly from the chair, letting her hand fall from between his until it dropped onto the table. His sudden brusqueness caused a frown to crease her forehead, but she said nothing. And then, the door out in the living room opened. "Jono!" came a loud cry. "Jono, where are ye, boyo?"

*That's Mr. Cassidy,* Jono said, and Skylar looked up as a tall man walked into the room. He appeared to be in his early forties, but his blonde hair was devoid of grey streaks, and his build was strong and fit. He smiled when he saw Jono, a smile that lit up his eyes.

"Jono!" he cried in his thick Irish accent. "Wait'll ye see what we've got ye!"

Jono was standing by the sink, and with his eyes he tried to direct Sean Cassidy's attention to Skylar, still sitting at the table. But the door opened so that table couldn't be seen, and the mutant known as Banshee didn't understand what Jono was trying to say. Coming fully into the room, the school's headmaster let the door swing shut as he dug into a plastic bag he held in his hand. "It's in here somewhere -- Paige picked it out. A keychain or some such thing."

Suddenly, Banshee stopped, noticing that Jono was just standing there, not reacting to what he had said. "Jono?" he asked, and that was when he saw the boy's eyes looking behind him, and he turned around.

Still sitting at the table, Skylar waved tentatively. "Hi," she whispered.

A wicked grin eased across Banshee's face as he turned back to Jono. "Well, me boy," he said, poking Jono in the ribs with an elbow. "Looks like we weren't gone long enough for ye, eh?"

*That's our new student,* Jono said, suddenly embarrassed.

Banshee stared at the girl until she began to squirm under his gaze. Then, remembering that Xavier had told him to expect her, Banshee slapped his forehead with his hand. "Skylar, right?" he asked, holding out a hand for her to shake. She looked past him at Jono, her eyes pleading. "I'm Sean Cassidy, headmaster of the school." Raising his voice, he called out, "Emma? Emma! Come in here a minute."

With Banshee standing over her, Skylar looked frightfully small. Because he didn't want anyone to make a scene -- he could already hear Jubilee's remarks about the two of them alone at the school -- he quietly slipped out the back door, holding the screen door so it wouldn't slam behind him. When he looked back, Skylar was still looking at him, that unreadable look in her eyes again.

"You don't look like much of a mutant to me." The girl called Jubilee cracked her gum loudly and tried to stare Skylar down. "What kinda powers you got?"

"None," Skylar replied, her voice cold. Already she didn't like this girl. "I'm not a mutant."

The blonde beside Jubilee smiled shyly. "It's okay," she said -- Skylar thought her name was Paige. "We're all mutants here. You're among family."

"I don't have any family." Skylar glared around at the others, daring them to say anything else. Besides the immature Jubilee and the brown-noser Paige, there was only one other girl her age, and although Emma had introduced her as Monet, the girl hadn't said anything yet. Then there were two guys, Angelo and Everett, draped across the couch watching television. The way Angelo kept glancing her way make Skylar nervous -- he looked vaguely familiar for some reason, but she couldn't place his face. The headmasters were in the kitchen, having left the students alone with the "new girl," and Skylar just wished Jono was still here.

But he wasn't. Jubilee opened her mouth to say something else, and Skylar sighed. Suddenly Monet spoke up. "You'll room with me," she said simply, and picked up the pile of Skylar's luggage with one hand as if it weighed nothing. "I'll show you our dorm."

"Who died and made you headmaster?" Jubilee asked, but Monet ignored her, pulling Skylar along as she brushed past her into the kitchen.

Emma and Sean looked up from the table. "Nice to see you helping out a fellow student, M," Emma said. Skylar tried to duck her head further into her collar -- she didn't want to be here.

"We're roommates," Monet said.

"A sudden interest in making friends? You?" Emma asked icily.

Monet sighed. "If you really must know, Ms. Frost, I do not wish to be confined to the same room as Jubilation Lee. I believe Skylar feels the same."

Sean looked at her, and Skylar blushed. "It's good t' see ye've already made some friends, Sky. Jono, Monet -- you've broken our toughest students already!"

Beside her, Monet groaned. As she pushed open the screen door, she whispered to Skylar, "Ignore them. They think it's cute that we all have our differences. Like that makes us a real team or something."

"A team of what?" Skylar asked. Monet led her down a narrow paved path. Around them trees sprouted from the lush grass, hemming in a few brick buildings. The whole campus seemed more of a private college than a training ground for future superheroes.

Monet shrugged. "Not much, actually. I'm the only one who can harness my powers. The others --" She let go of Skylar and waved disdainfully behind them, towards the building they just left. "They think this is all fun and games. They aren't serious about it." Monet looked at Skylar suddenly. "Are you serious about your powers?"

"I don't think I have any," she said honestly. She told her about how she had come to the school -- what she had told Jono earlier. "Unless I'm just gifted with extraordinary bad luck," she said, "I don't think I'm much of a mutant."

Monet laughed. "We'll see." Suddenly a sharp pain flared behind Skylar's eyes, a brief headache that faded as abruptly as it had bloomed. Monet frowned. "That's odd," she said. "I tried to scan your mind but all I saw was my own. I wonder why?"

"Whatever you did," Skylar said, clutching her temples, "don't do it again. It gave me one hellacious headache."

Ahead of them loomed a large building with a weathered metal plaque bolted above the large doors that read GIRLS. "Here we are," Monet said. "Home sweet dorm. Just through those doors, up the stairs, to the first door on the left. I'll meet you there."

"Where are you going?"

Monet smiled. "Up the easy way," she said, and lifted off of the ground as if she were as light as a breeze. "See you inside."

Skylar sighed. Why couldn't she fly instead of having the mutant power of migraines?

The tattered duffel bags that were Skylar's luggage lay spread out on the bare mattress that would be her bed. Monet had left her alone to unpack, but she had been on the run for so long, she didn't know where to begin. The last two years she had spent in an abandoned warehouse on a forgotten corner in L.A., living hand to mouth with a gang of girls like herself. Mutants, she thought suddenly, but then shook the word from her mind. She couldn't imagine Calliope a mutant anymore than she could herself.

Two years of gang life sat carefully folded away in the bags before her. Skylar wondered if maybe she didn't want to start unpacking because she didn't want her past to intrude into this quiet campus, where there were others who would accept her for who she was, where she might finally find a place to call home.

A sudden knock at the door startled Skylar. Quickly she opened one bag and began pulling out her clothes in an effort to look busy. "It's open," she called. She refused to let herself think it might be Jono.

The door swung open slowly, the hinges creaking slightly. Turning around, she saw Angelo, leaning against the door frame. He wore a loose tanktop and baggy jeans, and a silver cross hung around his neck. A black bandanna held back most of his hair, but a few wispy strands obscured his eyes. "Hello, Sky," he said. "Or should I call you Ricochet?"

Damn, she thought. Now she remembered him. "Angelo Espinosa," she hissed, turning back to her luggage. "I wondered what happened to you."

He came into the room, and Skylar heard the door close softly behind him. When his hands touched her shoulders, she stiffened. "Do you remember that night at the Den?" he whispered. His breath fanned her cheek.

The Den of Thieves, an underage club in downtown Los Angeles, and a neutral meeting ground for the street gangs. Skylar had gone to the Den with Calliope and Goner, looking for trouble. They found it, all right, in the form of a couple of Hispanic thugs. In the thick of a shootout, Skylar ran into a young Angelo, a newbie to the gang scene and just as terrified as she had been. Together they hid out in an old car lot. One thing led to another, and . . . "It was nothing," she said, but she didn't pull away when his hands eased down her arms. She couldn't feel his touch through her leather jacket but her skin tingled just the same. "You were with Tores and I was with Calliope --"

"Only because she kept you from being alone," Angelo said. He was right -- Calliope had taken her in, and Skylar loved her out of gratitude. His fingers entwined with hers, and his body pressed against her back. "Tores and I were terminado. That night it was just you --" he leaned closer, whispered in her ear -- "and me."

"It was nothing," she repeated softly. In her mind she remembered his touch, his kisses. She still felt the ghost of his lips on hers. "Stolen kisses, that's all they were. A mistake."

His fingers tightened around hers. "It doesn't have to be."

Abruptly she pulled away from him. "I came here to forget my past," she said, her voice shaky. "I want to forget Calliope, and the streets, and the guns and the violence and everything that happened to me before I got out of the cab in front of this place today." She looked at him, tears shining unshed in her eyes. "That means you too, Angelo. I want to forget your kisses and your caress and that night that should have never happened in the first place."

Skylar expected him to get angry -- she expected him to shout and yell and call her awful names. Maybe she even expected him to hit her. But instead, he smiled disarmingly, and she wasn't prepared for the warmth she felt when she saw his charming smile, his devilish eyes.

"We'll start de nuevo -- from scratch," he said, holding a hand out to her. Tentatively she placed her hand in his, and he covered it with both hands. "My name is Angelo. And you are?" He looked at her expectantly.

Skylar looked back, her eyes wide. "This is absurd," she said, but his hands were warm and she didn't resist when he pulled her a little closer.

Angelo's smiled widened. "What's your name, chica?"

"You know my name," she said as he slipped an arm around her shoulders. "I'm not playing this, Angelo. If we have to go to school together, then fine. But there's nothing between us." Skylar pulled away from him, but his hand stayed on her shoulder, his arm stretched unnaturally as she edged further back. Finally she plucked his fingers from her jacket, and when she dropped his hand, his arm returned to its normal length. "Nothing," she repeated.

Angelo grinned and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "Not yet," he said, his grin infuriating. "But you're crazy about me -- I know it." Leaning towards her, he whispered, "I felt it when we kissed. I can wait."

As he left her room, Skylar wanted to cry. So much for leaving the past behind.

Mine, Skylar thought, looking around. Her side of the room rivaled Monet's in neatness, her bed made, her clothes carefully put away, her well-loved stuffed bunny Fufoo propped on her pillow. Fufoo and she had been though a lot together -- that raggedy doll was the only remaining evidence of life before the streets, when she had a family, and had been safe. She held onto Fufoo religiously, hoping to one day feel that loved again.

Outside her windows, dusk pressed close around the school grounds, dotted here and there with halogen lights, just beginning to blaze to life. She stood with her nose touching the cool glass, and watched her breath frost the window. Suddenly the door behind her opened. Skylar saw Jubilee saunter into her room in the reflection of the glass.

Turning around, Skylar asked, "Don't you bother to knock first?"

Jubilee shrugged. Looking around, she tried to see everything in the room at once. "Chow time," she said, cracking her gum loudly. "Everybody's waiting on you to eat."

"I'm not hungry," Skylar replied. In truth, she was famished, but she wasn't going to jump for this teeny-bopping mall-rat. She'd sneak into the kitchen later, get some chips to hold her over.

Jubilee shrugged again. "Your call. They just sent me to fetch you. So c'mon -- you gotta show even if you don't eat. You're the new girl -- everyone wants to see you." Suddenly Jubilee spied Fufoo, sitting on the bed. Reaching for the stuffed bunny, she asked, "What's this old thing?"

Quickly Skylar stepped in between Jubilee and the bed. "Leave it alone."

"Jeez," Jubilee said. She crossed her arms in front of her, rolling her eyes. "I wasn't going to break it."

"Just go away. I'm not coming to dinner." Skylar crossed her arms also, and the two stood there defiantly. "Don't slam the door on your way out."

Jubilee's eyes narrowed in anger. Without warning, she lunged past Skylar, intent on Fufoo. Skylar held out an arm to stop her, and Jubilee pushed her away. Pain erupted in Skylar's head, clouding her vision. The kinetic energy from Jubilee's push flooded Skylar's body -- she felt it race uncontrolled through her arms to ball in her hands. Swirling, the energy grew stronger, and before she could stop herself, Skylar pushed back.

She felt the energy release itself, spinning out of her hands and out of control. As soon as it was spent, the pain in her head eased away and her vision cleared. Jubilee sat on the floor in the hall, a dazed look on her face. The door shook slightly as if she had knocked against it. "I'm sorry," Skylar whispered, but Jubilee didn't hear her.

"No mutant powers, my foot," Jubilee said, shaking her head. "What do you call that? Reflexes? I barely touched you and next thing I know, I'm flying across the room." She stood up, brushing her knees.

Skylar just stood there, her arms held up slightly. She felt as dazed as Jubilee did. "I --"

"Ferget it," Jubilee said. "Don't come down for dinner -- see if I care." She hurried down the hall. Skylar heard the echo of her footsteps ringing through the dorm as she ran down the stairs. The heavy front door creaked open far below Skylar's room -- she heard the latch catch as it eased shut. Turning, she could see Jubilee as she ran down a lighted path outside the window, heading back to the cafeteria or wherever it was the students ate.

Skylar's lower lip trembled slightly, but she bit back the tears that filled her eyes. She wasn't going to cry -- that girl would not make her cry. Picking up Fufoo, she hugged him close and curled up on her bed. She reached out with her foot and kicked the door closed. Backing up tight against the wall, she cradled Fufoo closer and wished she was anywhere but here.

Jubilee stormed into the dining room. Eight expectant faces turned towards her -- the students and headmasters of Generation X sat around a table laden with hot food, waiting for the two empty seats to be filled. Jubilee plopped into one of the seats and reached for the plate of mashed potatoes in front of her. "Might as well eat," she said, spooning a handful of potatoes onto her plate. "She ain't coming."

Sean Cassidy frowned. "An' why is that? The lass must be starving by now."

Shrugging, Jubilee reached for the bread. No one else was eating. "She went postal on me. Shoved me out the room and said she won't coming."

"She shoved you?" Paige asked. "What did you do to her?"

"Nothing," Jubilee said defensively. "She's a looney-toon." She looked down at her plate, avoiding the others' gazes.

Quietly Angelo spoke up. "We come from the same nabe, Sky and me. They called her Ricochet."

"Ricochet?" Sean asked.

Angelo nodded. "As in whatever you hit her with, she hits back harder. Never knew it was a mutant power, though -- I just thought she was one tough chica."

Jubilee sighed. "Anyway, she's ain't coming. So hurry up and eat already, peeps."

Jono stood up. *I'll talk to the gel.*

"You?" Paige asked.

Angelo eyed him suspiciously. "Why you?"

Jono looked over at him. Without flinching, Angelo looked back. Before anything else could be said, though, Emma Frost cleared her throat. All heads turned to her. "Leave her be. She'll come down to eat when she's finished sulking. In the meantime, the food is getting cold."

Silently Angelo reached for the mashed potatoes, and the others followed suit. Jono pushed his chair away from the table and walked out of the dining room. Paige turned around as he passed her chair. She almost stopped him, but then he was out the door and gone.

At the table, they began to eat. Just as Angelo was about to give in to the urge to follow Jono, Monet spoke up, and the moment was gone. "Congratulations, Jubilee," Monet said. "You've managed to single-handedly alienate our new student. How do you do it?"

In the brightly lit hallway of the girls' dorm, the shut door to Monet and Skylar's room looked uninviting. Jono stood just outside the door. He couldn't hear anything from the other side -- maybe she had fallen asleep. Maybe she had left, gone for a walk to cool off. Maybe -- Let's face it, Starsmore, Jono thought, running a hand through his hair nervously. You don't know what to do. Why would a gel like Skylar want to talk to a bloke like you?

Behind the closed door someone coughed. Guess that answers yer questions, Jono said to himself. Before he could think about it any further, he knocked on the door.

"Go away," came the muffled reply.

*It's me,* Jono said. With his inability to speak as normal people do, he was able to talk directly to Skylar through the door without having to raise his voice. He hoped he sounded sincere, but doubt rang through his mind. Like she'll care that it's me, he thought, ready to just turn around and walk away. Just let the gel be.

But, surprisingly enough, Skylar called out in a small voice, "Come in."

Gently he pushed the door open. The room was dark. He could see Monet's bed and desk, the screen of her computer reflecting blankly back at him. Coming into the room, he looked around the door. Skylar sat on her bed, wedged into the corner formed where the walls met. A small study lamp was the only light in the room -- it was clipped onto the opposite end of the her bed, where her desk and computer sat, its beam aimed at the ceiling so that its light was soft and diffused. The windows were black reflections of the room -- Jono saw himself in their depths, entering the room, Skylar sitting on her bed hugging a stuffed animal close, her legs pulled up beneath her. *'Ello, luv,* he said.

Her eyes were rimmed with black circles from where her eyeliner had run. To Jono, she reminded him of the girls in the punk scene he had hung out with back home in England, before he lost his lower face and half his chest to his mutant power. The lost and lonely expression in her large blue eyes was one he easily identified with.

Silently he closed the door. He sat down on the edge of the bed opposite her, and her eyes sparkled wetly when his shadow fell upon her. Nodding at the stuffed bunny she held, he asked, *Who's that?*

"Fufoo." She sniffled, and Jono wondered if she was going to cry again.

Quickly he tried to think of something to say. *Angelo said they used to call you Ricochet.*

Skylar scowled. "Angelo needs to keep his mouth shut."

*So we won't go there,* he replied, which forced a smiled to her lips. *Do yer want me to leave?*

She looked down at the bedspread. "No," she whispered.

*Do yer want to talk about it?*

"Not really." She sighed.

Jono nodded. *It takes a little gettin' used to, being part o' a team.*

"I don't want to be part of a team," Skylar said. "I came here because they said I would meet others like myself. They said I would learn about my headaches and how to control --" She shook her head. "I didn't ask for this."

*None of us did.* Jono pointed to the bandages that hid the psionic energy eating away at his body. *At least you look normal.*

Skylar grinned, running a hand through her cropped green hair. "Few would agree with you there."

Seeing that smile made him wish he could still smile back. Yer fallin' hard, he told himself, surprised to find that after all he'd been through -- after Gail, after Paige and that incident in the old dorm -- after all that, he was still a sucker for a pretty smile. The fact that she felt as scared and alone as he did himself made him want to help her out, to protect her, to show her that this mutant gig didn't have to be so hard. And she reminded him of his old life, his old punk days. Looking into her smiling eyes, he ached to smile back.

For the next hour or so, Skylar and Jono passed the time talking. Skylar told him about her life on the streets of L.A. and he in turn told her about his growing up in Manchester, England. They found they had a lot in common -- a love of the same bands, leather jackets, motorcycles, Doc Martins, and DKNY. Carefully Skylar told him about her old friends, Calliope and Goner, and about how she had met Angelo once or twice back in the 'hood, but she didn't say much more about that. In return Jono told her about the school and its students, omitting any reference to the construction going on across the quad, where the former girls' dorm used to be before Paige drunkenly tried to kiss him. They talked for a long time until there was nothing else to say, and then they lay side by side on Skylar's bed, facing each other across a comfortable silence, neither ready or willing to say goodnight.

A tentative knock on the door shattered the silence. Quickly Jono jumped off the bed, and Skylar sat up. "It's open," she called as Jono opened the door.

Monet came in the room, a covered plate in her hands. "Sorry to interrupt, but I brought you dinner."

Jono looked at Skylar. *I was just leaving.*

Smiling, Skylar said, "Thanks, Jono. I'll see you later."

He nodded and left. Monet closed the door behind him. Handing Skylar the plate, she asked, "Feeling better?"

"Uh-huh." Skylar peeled back the aluminum foil that covered the plate, revealing a full meal -- meat and potatoes and vegetables, still steaming with warmth. "Monet, you shouldn't have!" she exclaimed before diving into the food. She was starving!

With a toss of her hair, Monet said, "I know. But I thought you might want something substantial after using your mutant power to throw Jubilee across the room."

"That wasn't a mutant power," Skylar said, averting her gaze when Monet stared at her. "She just made me so angry."

"She has that effect on a lot of people," Monet agreed. "But few manage to kick her butt."

"I didn't -- did she say that?" Skylar asked, exasperated. "She pushed me, I pushed back. That's it. I must've pushed her harder than I thought." Grinning, she added, "Got rid of her, though."

Changing the subject, Monet asked, "What were you and Jono talking about for so long?"

"Was he here long? I hadn't noticed."

Monet cocked her eyebrow. "Skylar. It's well after nine -- I stayed out as long as I could but we do have class tomorrow. If I hadn't come in, when would he have left?"

Shrugging, Skylar said, "It's your room, too. You can come and go as you please. Don't let us stop you."

"So now there's us?"

"I didn't mean it that way!" Skylar frowned. "Jeez, Monet, you're twisting everything around!"

"You and Jono were alone before we came home today," she pointed out. "Don't think Paige hasn't noticed."

Skylar looked up from her plate. "Paige? What's she have to do with anything?"

Monet shrugged. "Just watch yourself. You're coming into unfamiliar territory here."

For a long moment, neither said anything. Monet picked up a hairbrush and began running it through her long dark hair. Skylar watched as she pulled the brush to the ends of her hair. Finally Skylar said, "I thought we were going to be friends."

"We are," Monet said confidently, without turning around. "You're the only girl here who's not ga-ga over guys. You've got a head on your shoulders, and I think you might even be as smart as I am. I just don't want you to forget that."

"I won't." Pouting, Skylar said, "And I'm not ga-ga over Jono."

Monet turned around and smiled. "Might want to tell him that."

Sighing exaggeratedly, Skylar rolled her eyes. "Monet!" Playfully she tossed a small pillow at her roommate, who shrieked and giggled and tossed the pillow back. Later, when they decided to call it a night, Skylar lay awake and listened to Monet's steady breathing across the room, and wondered if Jono thought she might like him. She wondered if she did.