A/N: Most of the main characters' appearances-being teenagers or younger than intended-are pulled from the actors' early roles (links in profile). Harry Osborn and Gwen Stacy (who will both appear later) take their face-claims from my previous work, We Don't Need Another Hero (Version 2).

Jackson stood, looking up at the Doric building. SHIELD HIGH SCHOOL. It couldn't be any worse than his last school. He transferred after the fall formal went from bad to... well, he may have gone Carrie on everyone's asses.

"Are you new?" The boy spun to find a beaming brunet, probably a year or two younger than himself, clutching his backpack with his left hand, a paper in his right. "Jackson, right?" He nodded. "I'm Peter, your student guide." Jackson looked up at him blankly. "Oh, I'm sorry. Do you... speak?"

"Yeah," he replied shortly. "Just... observing you, that's all." Way to sound weird, Shanley. "Trying to decide whether or not you pose a threat."

Peter looked a little taken aback. "Oh no, I'm not a threat. You'll find that a lot of people here, although they seem like it, are actually really nice. I promise."

"I'll take your word for it." Jackson had trust issues but Peter seemed like a nice enough guy. "So what'd you do?" Peter looked confused. "Must've been pretty bad to get stuck with a gig like showing the new kid around."

"I volunteered." Now it was Jackson who seemed surprised. At every other school he'd been to, people would rather take detention to playing tour guide. "I can't make any promises but I think you'll be fine here." Peter opened the door and, for the first time, there was no metal detectors or security guards at every corner. Jackson chewed on his lower lip. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm good. Just... not used to the freedom." He exhaled. "I think you're right, Peter. I'm gonna be fine."

Peter dropped him off at his homeroom, where he stood for about fifteen seconds before entering. Almost instantly, all eyes were on him, and Jackson looked at the floor.

"Mr. Shanley?" His gaze went up to see a blonde woman holding a remote. "I'm Miss van Dyne. You can take the open seat beside Mr. Barnes." She nodded to a tall boy with coiffed dark hair and his left arm in a cast.

She returned to the lecture as he put his bag down next to the chair. "Hi," he murmured. "'m Jackson."

"I know. Pyro- and cryokinesis, huh?" He felt the back of his neck heat up. "Don't blame you. If I could do what you can, I'd have burned them all." Jackson wasn't a normally violent person; he'd just taken enough abuse. "Bucky."

Jackson nodded. "Pleasure." He wasn't sure how many people knew what he did but hopefully not too many.

When the bell rang, Bucky clapped him on the shoulder with something resembling a smile and left. Now he just felt awkward, which came all too normal. He trudged into the corridor and glanced around before looking at his assignments. Locker number 237; this was the second floor as Peter had indicated, so it had to be around somewhere.

"Need some help?" A voice asked. Jackson turned to see a dirty blond boy with headphones around his neck. "Peter Quill." He extended his hand. "Most people call me Star-Lord."

Not wanting to jeopardize a possible friendship, Jackson suppressed a snort and accepted the gesture. "Jackson, aka Kid Psionic."

Quill cocked his head. "You're not making fun of me, are you?"

"Not at all. Online superhero name generator." After having his powers for about a year, Jackson decided to adopt an alter ego. "What are you listening to?" He nodded to the Walkman attached to the boy's belt.

Quill rubbed the back of his neck. His musical tastes were different than most kids his age. "I mean, the oldies. Y'know, like Hooked on a Feeling—"

"Blue Swede." Quill looked at the shorter boy in astonishment. "Yeah. I'm old-school too, although I shoot more for disco, pop and musicals. Bit of a stereotype, really." Jackson reached up and shut Peter's mouth with a nudge. "Let me guess, people think you're weird?" Peter nodded. "Boy, can I relate."

"No one really comes here unless you're special. I'm half-Celestial."

Jackson raised his right hand and a small orb of fire appeared. "Freaky mutant powers. Also, I..." He cleared his throat. "I may have used said freaky powers to go Drew Barrymore on a few dozen people."

Quill was amazed by this guy. He had a small group of friends but he'd been meaning to branch a little outside of them. "Do you want to— hang out or something?"

A small smile crossed Jackson's face. "Sounds great."

He made it to lunch without any problems. Turned out he and Quill (he referred to him by his surname to distinguish between them) shared three classes, and the other was just like him on a good day. The guy talked nonstop and Jackson didn't mind.

"I can't believe you know Footloose!"

Jackson propped himself up on the bench in a pose. "I can also Flashdance."

"Oh no. Quill found a twin." The brown-haired boy fell off the bench as he stared at the raccoon walking on its hind legs. "Lemme guess, never seen anything like me before?" Jackson shook his head. "Well, you're in luck."

A green-skinned girl sat beside Quill and observed him closely. "I think he's in love," she concluded. "You understand him?" She motioned to Quill and looked at Jackson, who nodded. "Perfect for each other."

"He has platonic love for him." An insectoid girl touched the top of Quill's head and his excited expression changed to one of peace.

"I'm Gamora." The first girl sat on Quill's right. "This is Rocket," she motioned to the raccoon, "and Mantis."

Jackson got back up, side-glancing the animal to his left. "Jackson. Pleasure."

"So what can you do?" Jackson raised his hands, right in flame, left in ice. "Okay, that's cool."

There was a burst of loud laughter from the other end of the cafeteria. Jackson looked over to see what was obviously the popular clique. Two more people—a dark-haired boy and a girl with curly black hair—arrived at the table and cast a glance over where Jackson watched.

"Don't worry. They won't mess with you as long as you keep to yourself." The girl gave Jackson a small smile. "I'm Hope, and this is my boyfriend Scott." Scott looked up, a bunch of fries already in his mouth. "Real polite." She rolled her eyes.

Scott finished and put an arm around Jackson's shoulder, leading him around the room. "Here's what you need to know." He pointed to each table. "Shield High School works like practically any other, except the powers. You got your jocks; typical Neanderthal douchebags with super strength. Stoners; some of them are pretty chill. Band geeks; please do not ask them what they did at band camp. Show choir; it's just like Glee, minus the echo mimicry. Girls that eat their feelings aka metabolization, and the girls who don't eat. Debate team; really into mind manipulation. Dance team. Mathletes; you're not that big a nerd, are you?" Jackson shook his head. "Overachievers. Religious believers; not sure who they consult though. The greatest people you will ever meet." They were back at the start. "And the worst." Scott spun Jackson to face the popular table. "No offense but you seem like you know this kind all too well."

Jackson just got a whirlwind of new information in less than three minutes. "Yeah. I do." At the head of the table was a black-haired boy in an Autre Marque leather jacket. "Isn't that—"

"Tony Stark. Richest kid in school. Dating Maya Hansen, except rumor has it she's his beard—"

"Who tells you these things?" Hope cut Scott off.

"He does." Scott pointed to Rocket, who blinked. "You really gotta work on that winking thing."

Jackson's fifth period was English Lit with Miss Carlyle. He was seated beside a blond boy who introduced himself as Wade Winston Wilson. When the teacher shushed him, Wade complied but nudged Jackson's side. "She's totally into me," he mouthed.

Jackson shook his head with a chuckle and took a gaze around the room, landing on a boy with a buzzcut, who was already watching him. The other punched his palm, and Jackson knew all too well that his face was going to be made unrecognizable. He didn't even question what he could have done; undoubtedly, the guy was an asshole who beat up kids smaller than him, and Jackson was smaller than everyone else in the room.

"Don't worry about Flash. He's a dick. If he touches you, tell me. I'll kick his ass again." Wade tousled Jackson's hair. Jackson combed his hair back but smiled. He didn't even have to make an impression on Wade. "I know what you're thinking. No one deserves to get their ass kicked without a good reason. Flash does it for the hell of it. Also, you're compact."

"Thanks." He decided to ignore the short joke.

Wade grinned. "You should hang out with me and my best friend Petey later! After his decathlon thing or whatever." He made a face. "Petey's a nerd but he's mine. Not like that though. Although I'd be open to the opportunity. I think he likes that girl— Michelle or MJ or whatever. She's cool too—" He flinched when Miss Carlyle hit his desk with a pointer. "Sorry, ma'am." She gave him a stern look before walking back to the front of the room. "Check her out," he muttered.

Wade insisted accompanying him to his next class, so Flash couldn't get him alone. About halfway down the hallway, Wade bailed and ran to pick someone up around the waist. The surprised yelp answered that the victim was Peter. Once Jackson came over, Peter was still swatting at Wade's hands to put him down.

"Wade, stop!" He gave up and slumped in his hold before smiling at Jackson. "How was your first day?"

Jackson shrugged and leaned against the locker. "S'okay. Made a lot of friends. I could be okay here."

"Sup, Puny Parker?" Flash was flanked by two other guys. He smirked and flicked the side of Peter's head, not seeming to acknowledge Wade being right there. "You can't protect him forever." He nodded to Jackson, who took a brave step towards the much larger male.

"C拗你祖宗十八代." No one knew what Jackson said, until a door opened and a tall Asian woman stepped out.

"Who said it?" Flash pointed at Jackson, whose wide-eyed expression moved back and forth. "You're the new student. I'm Helen Cho, guidance counselor." She widened the doorway. "In."

Wade and Peter watched Jackson walk away. "We'll wait for you," Peter called after him. Jackson looked back and smiled.

A/N2: Scott's Mean Girls bit was deliberate; Flash is modeled after the Chris Zylka form from The Amazing Spider-Man; Jackson's insult (C拗你祖宗十八代) is a rough translation of "Fuck the 18 generations of your ancestors".