Linger

X-men: Evolution

*Written By Gale*

Disclaimer - It goes without saying that some of the characters in here are mine. Others aren't. I'm not getting money. Sure, I want money, but not at the expense of a lawsuit, in which case I would end up with even less money than I have now, which is none.

Chapter #1: Prologue

I bet you'd think that every kid from a small nowhere town would dream of moving someplace close to New York City. I used to be one of them. Then I moved to Bayville. Being near the life, the excitement, the magic -- it was enough to earn me a popular name in my old high school before I left. Too bad that kind of fame doesn't last, though, especially when you learn that living in a place near the big city means that everyone else around you doesn't care. Quick tip for future reference if you're excited about moving: the destination is never so welcoming as the things you left behind.

My name is Molly Carver, and if that little blurb of an introduction didn't grab you, then you're sure to discover what all my new neighbors and classmates were sure to discover: I'm a fat, lazy nobody from a small nowhere town where nobodies are harvested like tobacco. (Actually, some of the nobodies, lazy and fattness optional, farm tobacco where I used to live, so imagine the irony.) Sure, all the people I knew -- 13 years worth of knowing, by the way -- were back at home missing me and feeling absolutely thrilled that they could say they knew somebody who now lived in New York.

Of course, I got even bigger pats on the back (out of pity this time) when everyone realized I was going to the place where the first major mutant breakout was documented by the government. A few of my mom's friends even looked up some information on the internet about support groups, which actually meant they were hoping I'd join into the rash of anti-mutant sentiment that was sweeping the nation. Mom didn't quite approve of this, but she never said so in front of them.

My friends weren't so dense, Mom included, who is my best friend (as all moms should be for their daughters). That is because, naturally, I only had a few, all of them very close, and they knew I might very well have been a mutant, myself. Nothing flashy to give it away, of course. I can read your basic tarot, tea leaves, and crystal balls, and I have a knack for knowing how other people feel, or knowing when they're lying to me. I'm also fairly good at doing bare minimum, (at the last minute, mind you,) in a given assignment and still pulling out better than most. But like I said, none of us are sure if that makes me qualify. Some fanatic activist might think so, though. You'd be amazed at how many openly goth, gay, and general-weirdos were kicked out of my old school in the months following the Presidential Address -- not because they were proven to be mutants, but because anti-mutants were beginning to strike out against anyone who just wasn't normal (and in Kentucky, that usually meant non-Southern Baptist, too). I got off easy in that area because while I do have my quirks, I keep them to myself. The only thing I ever got up in arms about was my attachment to Paganism, and that was because I was young and stupid at the time, and I only practiced because it was new and different.

When I finally got up here, I kind of wished my mom had been coming with me, but no such luck. My parents were divorced the summer before my junior year. It took them until Christmas to sort out all the legal mumbo jumbo, and amid all that, everyone suddenly decided my father should get a transfer, and because mom works minimum wage, he should take me along to "support" me. Asshole couldn't just pay child support like all the other fathers that don't want to be around their kids, and yes, that is an accurate description. Before all this divorce business, the last meaningful discussion held between my figure of paternal mentality and myself had to do with getting my first and only C on my report card back in the sixth grade. Even then, all it involved was "Don't do it again. Now go ask your mother what's for dinner."

Anyhow, enough of my beef with the man of the house, on with the story. My father works for some company called cypherCom. I've never actually visited nor even asked Dad what he did after being promoted, but judging from the name, I think you and I can both guess that it probably has something to do with computers. All I do know is that it's run by some big-shot by name of Nathaniel Essex, who decided he could better run a corporate empire overseas as opposed to his native Britain, which is where he's from. Word is that he's running for Mayor or Governor or something like that. I didn't care to clarify because I hate politics. I love to argue and debate, though, so go fig. Anyhoo, I've seen him on TV a couple times since getting here, and I already don't like him. Is there a rule somewhere stating that all corporate executives should look like vampires?

The Principal of my new high school wasn't shaping up to be much of a charmer, either. Have you ever met an adult, whom you know probably spent his wonder years wearing a pocket protector and fearing the word "swirly?" Principal Kelley was one of those guys, and he grew into a bitter, bitter man because of it. The way he looked at me when I went in for my schedule seemed to say -- I don't know -- something along the lines of "what now, bitch?" only in a slightly more forty-year-old-balding-white-guy way. He genuinely looked as though he was expecting me to undermine his authority, like every tom, dick and harry was out to make him look like a pansy. He didn't realize there was no need. He managed quite well by himself. You could say I was kind of bitter about our first encounter. He regarded me as a criminal, did the whole "I don't want to hear you've been causing trouble" speech, when the jerk had my permanent record right in front of him stating I was an honor roll student who'd never rocked the boat in her life. Obviously, being from Kentucky must have meant my old school system didn't have very strict disciplinary procedure. That's funny all by itself. Bayville High is a thirty minute drive from the projects, and I come from a criminal breeding ground?

So yeah. Not a good first impression for the new school. I was wary of the teachers after that, although I learned not to be after a day or two. It was just Kelley that I had to tread lightly around, which wasn't hard because out of habit I don't do a lot to draw attention. By doing what I did best, watching other people, I got the lay of the land pretty quick, noted who to avoid and who probably deserved a chance. The mutants in the school were pointed out for me by some gossip who couldn't put her money where her mouth was. Fairly nice looking kids, too. Appeared to do okay with friends and schoolwork. Someone told me the worst of them were expelled for starting a disturbance during an assembly.

Yay, I thought. These kids could do some amazing things, apparently. Nothing like what I believed I should be proud of. Again, they looked like cool people, but I didn't have any classes with them, and being a watcher and not a doer, I never thought to approach them.

When the first week was over and done with, I had no friends, and like any nervous new kid with no outward popularity to speak for, I segregated myself from everyone, everywhere possible. That kept up for two weeks, the turning point being when I had my schedule changed for no reason save that Kelley probably needed something to do. So out of chemistry I went (which I was glad for, since I hate the class) and into physics.

That's where I met Newton.

Newton Essex.

TO BE CONTINUED