Thomas Blackhurst enjoyed rugby. He always had. But sometimes, he found himself enjoying it less than usual. This was one of these times. It was a cold, rainy day in winter, where the sodden pitches were covered in mud, and the players had travelled hours to get to the game. The game was supposed to have been cancelled, but the coach had already driven everyone here, and did not want to drive all the way back. So while the Mr Brown stayed indoors with a hot cup of coffee, the rugby team toiled outside against a team that far outclassed them.

Tom was quite strong and fast for his age, so he played on the wing. As he squinted through the downpour, he saw the rest of the backs passing it down the line towards him. He got his hands out ready, and when the player next to him flung the muddy ball through the air, he somehow managed to catch it. He looked around him, and saw the opposition closing in on him fast. He started sprinting in the rough direction of the enemy try line, drifted out towards the touchline, hoping to avoid getting tackled. He outpaced his opposite number, and thought he was through, and he cut inside to place the ball between the posts. However, he was not a clear as he thought he was, and suddenly the huge fullback thundered out of the rain and clattered into Tom, knocking him to the ground and making him spill the ball.

Tom cursed as he lay on the ground, winded. He had come so close to his team's only try of the game! He sighed and began trudging back to his own players, and could hear the celebrations of the opposition as they scored yet another try.

The next day at school was the same as any other day. Tom went to his lessons and worked hard. He was a quiet boy, and was intelligent, so school was not too hard for him, even if it was a bit boring. He was fourteen years old, and had yet to start worrying about his exams, so school was still quite relaxed. Tom thought himself quite lucky, and enjoyed his life. He was good-looking, played plenty of sport, and had a lot of free time. He was not the most sociable, however, and he lacked confidence in going outside of his comfort zone. He had many friends at school. He always tried to be kind to people, and was respected for that.

Today was an ordinary Monday. He arrived in school as normal, yet was surprised to find a large crowd near the assembly hall. Lots of people were whispering and talking. "Did you see him?" one boy asked his friend. "I can't believe they're allowed," another drawled, "Father says they are a danger to us all." "A mutant, here!" a small boy squealed.
Tom pushed himself to the front of the crowd, and went into the assembly hall. A mutant? In his school? What on earth could they want? The assembly hall was packed, but his friend Paul had saved him a space. At the front was a bald man in a wheelchair with and African woman with long white hair next to him.

The man in the wheelchair cleared his throat. "Good morning everybody. My name is Professor Xavier, and I run Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. I am here today to educate you on what people call mutants. Mutants posses the mutant X gene, and usually have extra capabilities beyond that of a normal human. These are next step in the evolution of mankind. Mutant powers can very, from telepathy and telekinesis, to possessing extreme strength and speed..."

After the lecture, the school was buzzing. Were mutants really the next step in evolution. Or were they horrible deformities that the humans made them out to be. The guest speakers had seemed normal enough(except for the woman's white hair), and their might be more mutants in the world that people did not know about. Tom was quite worried. His father hated mutants. Would they bother him at all?

The rest of the day, Tom was distracted. At lunchtime, all the computers were occupied by people watching videos on YouTube of mutants. Tom saw one with a red visor lift it up and shoot lasers from his eyes.

After lunch he had PE, where they were supposed to be playing basketball. Tom did not mind basketball. He was okay at it, but found it unfair that the tall people always had an advantage. The lesson had begun, and everyone was about to start playing their matches, when a a ringing sound started.

"Fire alarm, don't panic." Mr Brown said lazily.

As the class piled out from the gym, Tom looked back and heard a scream.

Then he realised.

Jacob Ashlee always stayed in the changing rooms while PE was on, because of his broken leg. Tom sprinted back in, ignoring Mr Brown's shouts, and pelted into the changing room.

Fire was raging in there, and Jacob had locked himself in a toilet cubicle. There was no way to get to it except through the flames. Tom took a deep breath, and ran through the fire. He could feel the flames licking his skin, but they did not hurt that much. Tom just assumed they would hurt later and that adrenalin was keeping him going. Tom leapt over a fallen bench, and reached the cubicle. He pounded on the door, and, to Tom's surprise, the door flew off his hinges from the force of Tom's hit.

Tom himself was amazed. He was not that strong. But he grabbed Jacob and slung him over one shoulder. Wow. Jacob was heavy. Tom struggled, trying desperately to keep him above the flames. Jacob wailed, until he inhaled too much smoke and passed out.

Tom held his breath, and staggered through the flames, barely able to lift the weight of the unconscious boy. But the further he went, the lighter Jacob seemed to become, and eventually, Tom made it out of the changing room. He looked around. He could see the gym. Jacob fell to the floor. Tom lugged him across. He was inhaling smoke, and his eyes went hazy. Sweat was pouring off his brow. He kept going, pulling with all his might. Finally, Tom dragged Jacob out of the fire exit. He was exhausted, and collapsed on the ground, letting himself go.

He woke up in a hospital, feeling groggy, and saw the news on the TV.

'The local school, St. Wilfred's College has been severely damaged in a fire. The causes of the fire are unknown, but it has led to large amounts of property damage. Fortunately, there were no severe injuries, but one of the students passed out from smoke inhalation. There is an interview with the student, Jacob Ashlee now.

"Jacob, where were you when the fire started?" The interviewer asked

"I-I-I was i-in the changing rooms, w-when the f-fire came in. I l-locked myself in a c-cubicle and called for help. Then, my friend Tom came in and knocked d-down the d-d-door. He then carried me out, and then my eyes went b-b-blurry. I c-can't remember anything else." Jacob stammered.

"How did Tom get in the cubicle?"

"I d-don't know, the l-lock must have b-been broken."

"How do you feel about the incident?"

"It w-was v-v-very scary, and I am very p-pleased to be alive."

"Thank you very much for your time, Jacob."

Tom was shocked. The fire. Of course. He looked at his body. How had he not been burnt? He remembered walking through the flames. He could feel them, but they did not hurt him. His body seemed to absorb the flames. He was confused. He had knocked that door down, and had carried Jacob through. What was wrong with him?

"Nothing is wrong with you."

Tom looked up. The guest speakers from earlier had come in. Professor Xavier looked at him. Tom then realised. The man had read his thoughts!

"How did you-" The man held up his hand.

"As you already know, or should do if you were listening earlier, certain mutants have the ability known as telepathy."

The Professor said this without moving his mouth.

"I am one of those. What you did before was no accident."

"What do you mean?"

"I know of a mutant who is able to absorb certain types of energy, that can grant him additional strength. I believe your power is very similar."

"My power? I-I'm a-..."

"A mutant? Yes, you are."