The jet hummed loudly as Irisa sat in the chair, buckled up all safe and nice. Her black hair fell over her shoulder, shocking blue bangs falling into her eyes as she watched Storm and Logan operated the controls.

They hit some turbulence, making the jet bobble dangerously. Irisa grabbed the edge of her seat and whimpered. Storm glanced back with an apologetic look. After a moment the jet steadied and Irisa lessoned her grip.

"You okay back there kid?" Logan asked in his low and gravelly voice. She nodded but he couldn't see.

"Yeah," she answered in a small voice. Truth be told Irisa didn't much like flying. But her parents thought she'd be safest in the hands of the X-Men and their professor, Charles Xavier. After the attack on the president Irisa's parents feared the animosity and resentment of her peers and were glad the young girl could be among her own kind.

"We're coming up to the mansion now," Storm said, looking back at Irisa with snow-white eyes before turning back. "We just need a little cover."

A thick fog came rolling in and Irisa had to take a few deep breaths to calm her.

The jet sank gently onto its little landing pad and Storm turned off the engine. Both Logan and Storm took off their seatbelts. Irisa quickly reached into her pocked and pulled on her black fingerless gloves.

"Are you used to wearing those?" Storm asked in a gentle voice, brushing some shocking white hair out of her face with a gloved hand. Irisa nodded.

"I've had to," she said, unbuckling her seatbelts and standing. "For four years."

Logan nodded and opened a compartment next to her, taking out her messenger bag and her backpack, slinging them over his shoulder, walking down the ramp and into the mansion.

Storm put a reassuring arm over her shoulder. "Don't be nervous. First you meet with the professor. He just needs your name, birth date, school stuff, and the extent of your powers. Then I show you to your room and you can get settled in."

The weather goddess began steering Irisa toward the ramp. "You don't have classes until Monday. Everyone is still on their spring break."

Irisa nodded and followed Storm down the ramp and into the mansion. She tried to look around but all she saw was the jet hanger, and some gas pumps to fill her up when need be, and some tools that would be needed to fix any damage. But other than that it was a plain gray room. She wasn't allowed too much of a pause because of Storm's arm still around her shoulder.

She was lead into an elevator, bright white and almost blinding. Her black hair stood out most, like a beacon of darkness against the purity. It's how she felt sometimes, like a dangerous person. Like she could kill you if she wanted, and sometimes she did want to and she felt so guilty for it.

It was only a few seconds before the elevator doors opened again and Irisa was being steered out of it and into the hallway. The walls were simple wood, squares carved within them to be decorative. They were polished so they shone. For some reason it made Irisa think of a psychiatrists office, how it's supposed to look homey but instead it looks imprisoning.

She passed a group of students and Storm and Logan paused to speak with them.

"Bobby, John, what are you guys doing?" Storm asked with amusement alight in her voice. Both boys looked to the ground guiltily and were trying to hide the smiles that begged to come to the surface.

A young girl, no older than Irisa, ran up behind them, panting and hitting them playfully on the shoulders. Her hair was chocolate brown, but what Irisa found most memorable about her appearance was the two strips of pure white hair that hung in her face, framing it. For a moment Irisa wondered if the color was dyed or accidental. Everyone had such histories that were just waiting to unfold.

She bit the inside of her lip, hard, in order to scold herself for such thoughts. People's memories didn't belong to her and it wasn't her right to just go and take them, look at them.

One of the boys had blonde hair, cut short and curly. His eyes were piercing blue. Normally Irisa would find this attractive, but she couldn't for some reason. The other boy, the total opposite of what she found attractive, is the one that caught her eye.

His hair was brown, long but not ridiculous. Not longer than a female's. Not longer than hers. In fact, his hair curled slightly at the ends, brushing the nape of his neck and falling into his eyes, which were also brown. His eyes held a fire in them, like he just loved to be rebellious, the opposite of what everyone else says, thinks, and does. Despite herself Irisa felt her cheeks getting hot.

"New student Storm?" asked the one with the blonde hair, whom Storm addressed as Bobby. The other one must be John. Then who was the female?

"Yes," Storm said, tightening her grip on Irisa's shoulders. "Before she can meet you all formally she needs to meet with the professor. Excuse us, please."

Irisa was led down the hallway to a pair of large oak doors. Storm knocked twice and opened one of them, a hand on Irisa's lower back and pushing her inside.

The man behind the desk was bald, certainly not what Irisa expected. He looked younger, but not terribly young. He certainly had some aged wisdom just by the way he looked at her. She thought he was sitting in a chair, but a chair in an office like this would be grand, with a large back, maybe leather…

"You're deductions about me are fascinating," he said with a gentle smile. "You have quite the attention to detail. I would think that you were an artist or a writer with the sheer way you notice small things. Like my chair."

Irisa gave a small smile. He talked to her like she was his student, but oddly that gave her a homely feeling. Like he could be a father figure. But, she didn't know him nor did she trust him that much.

"Oh Irisa you can trust me," he said, still with that smile. It was like it was plastered on his lips.

Does my smile unnerve you?

She couldn't help but jump and gasp. He was a telepath. No wonder he kept answering the questions she asked herself inside her mind.

"No you're smile is just fine," she answered, taking a seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk.

"Irisa I have built this school to help mutants- special people such as yourself. This is a place where you should never feel left out; never feel unwanted, unloved, and uncared for. There are people like you here, and they have had worse outcomes than yourself. You're parents loved you, elected you to come here. Most of my students, if not more than half, are runaways."

Irisa bit her lip, fiddling with the elastic on her fingerless gloves.

"My point is, Irisa, is that no matter what you have gone through, you are welcome here. Some students may resent you, having had it much better than they have. But they are kind, and you will find your place here."

She nodded, still fiddling with the elastic.

"Now, can you tell me what your powers are?"

She sat silently for a moment, looking at him as he gazed back at her. She tried to find judgment in his eyes. Every human had that; judgment. About her hair, the way she dressed, or her demeanor alone. But she could not find judgment in his eyes. Instead they remained kind.

"When I touch people, I can see their memories. From the moment of their birth to right this second. Everything they can't remember or wish they'd forget, I see it. But on top of that, I get every emotion, every single blasted emotion that is attached to those memories. And it hurts them, drains the person's energy to have their memories dragged from them and placed front and center inside my mind. It's painful to both of us."

The professor nodded, making a small affirmative noise as he wrote this down on a piece of paper. "And this is everywhere on your skin? If they touch everywhere?"

She shook her head. "Only my palms. That's why I wear my gloves."

The professor nodded again, making a note of this as she finished speaking. "Thank you Irisa. Storm and Logan can show you to your room now."

She nodded, getting to her feet and walking out the door. Storm led her to her room, which happened to be on the third floor known as the "girl's floor".

"You have to have roommates unfortunately. There just isn't enough room for everyone to have their own room. You'll be staying with Rogue, Kitty, and Jubilee. They might be downstairs in the rec. room. If you have any questions please ask."

And then she was left alone.

Sighing to herself Irisa picked up her messenger bag, placing it on her bed and opening it. She would have to unpack if she was ever going to get settled. She paused for a moment, looking around the empty room at the three other beds. They were made neatly; no way a teenager could have put that together. Did the mansion have a cleaning lady?

There was a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach as Irisa went back to unpacking, using the small dresser next to her bed. Luckily she didn't bring that many things.

It had been perhaps an hour before her roommates joined her. They stumbled in laughing and giggling as teenagers do. They noticed Irisa and froze in their tracks. One of the girls was the one with the white streaks.

"Hi," said the girl with the streaked hair. She had a slight southern accent. She walked further into the room with the other two in tow. "I'm Rogue. This is Kitty, and Jubilee."

Kitty was a petite girl, with mousy brown hair and a heart shaped face. Jubilee looked Asian, with an oval shaped face and almond shaped eyes. Her hair was black and straight, pulled up into a ponytail with a bright yellow sweatband. Everything Jubilee wore was bright yellow or red.

"Hi," they greeted in unison, waving before sitting on their beds.

"Hi. I'm Irisa," she said, waving with a gloved hand. She noticed that Rogue had long gloves that reached up to her elbows.

"Are you a poison skin too?" Rogue asked, motioning to Irisa's gloves. It took a moment for it to click and Irisa nodded.

"Only in my palms though," she said, holding up her hand to show the fingerless gloves. "Otherwise I'm completely touchable."

"Must be nice," Rogue mumbled, leaning back on her bed and resting her head on the headboard.

"Lucky," said Kitty, who pulled her knees up to her chest. "Rogue can't touch anyone, anywhere. That's why she wears her gloves. Me, I phase through stuff. I can walk through walls and people and all sorts of things."

To demonstrate her point she stood up, walking towards Irisa. Before Irisa could step back, Kitty walked through her. "Woah," Irisa said, shaking her head.

"What about you?" she asked Jubilee. Jubilee shrugged.

"I make energy balls with my hands. I call them paphs."

Irisa nodded, clearly impressed.

"What about you?" asked Kitty, sitting back on her bed. "I know you have poison skin, but… is it taking powers and energy like Rogue?"

Irisa shook her head, she too sitting on her bed with her legs tucked up close. "No. When I touch someone with my palms, I see their memories. The things they can't remember, the things they don't want to remember and everything else in between. I get the emotions that go on with those memories. And it's painful. Terribly painful, to both of us."

The room fell silent as the girls looked at each other. They were unnerved by this piece of information and silently Irisa cursed herself. She might have just scared off her only friends.