I don't own Star Trek or any recognizable characters like Data, Wes or Troi. Lynn, her other friends and her father are mine though.

She hopped helplessly from one foot to the other in a poor attempt at dodging the many, many people in the corridors. It wasn't usually this crowded, but after having everyone who was anyone in one room, you can't really expect there not to be a line for the lift. The doors opened quietly and a few people stepped in, and they were yet again waiting. A small group of the crew had opted to take a shorter route, which probably involved more walking and awkward small talk.

"Excuse me," she said in a small voice as she tried to push through the crowd. Echoes of "Yes, sorry," and "If you could just," left her mouth until she was at the front, right in front of the lift when it opened.

She stepped in carefully and tried to find a corner in the circular elevator, without result of course, in an attempt to avoid conversation. It didn't work. "Marilyn," Troi began. "It's nice to see you again. You spend so much time in your father's quarters, we hardly see you anymore."

"I've been very busy with my lessons," Lynn nodded. "It feels great to get out and see everyone though," she added politely.

"If you wouldn't mind speaking with me in private," the counselor offered, "I'd like to talk to you about something."

There it was. Everybody was always wanting to 'talk to' her, which really meant they wanted to lecture her about how they knew she was upset, but that she needed to interact with people her age. She wasn't any good at interacting with people her age! She was awkward at best most days save the sudden bursts of something that was probably either confidence or want of fitting in that occurred occasionally around people she found particularly interesting.

"That sounds lovely. I have a few assignments to finish up, but they can wait," she said as they left the lift.

She was fine when talking to adults; more than fine, actually. Older people treated her like a child, but it was a goal to make them see how responsible and mature and not childish she was, and that gave her something to do. Troi was one of the few crew members who didn't think of her as the small child she was when she came to meet them all, separately. This was partially because there were entire groups of people she hadn't even said hello to since then, which included many of the highest ranking officers. She wasn't even sure that the Captain knew she was aboard anymore until just recently.

"My father isn't here right now, so if this was a discussion you wanted to have as a family, you're out of luck," Lynn smiled as they entered.

The room was messy in the way that an artist or genius's might be, though she considered herself neither. There were paintings scattered on the walls and a few on the floors, and they appeared to be of various crew members, some of which she didn't even know the names of but had observed at work or in the lounge when she got out. There were also numerous books laying on the floor by the bed and in a small corner of the room. The corner had a small, wrinkled blanket and a pillow on the floor, along with pencils and notebooks, both of which were considered 'old fashioned.' Her bed was made neatly though, and there was a couch, too, with pillows and folded blankets on it.

"It looks like you sleep everywhere but your bed," Troi commented.

"Yes, sorry! I didn't know you would be dropping by, I'd have cleaned up a bit or something," she apologized ferociously.

The look on the counselor's face was one of astonishment and worry. Never had she seen such a young woman, only sixteen, fret so much over anything other than some boy she thought she couldn't live without. "It's fine, it's just very lived in," the counselor assured her. "Take a seat."

"Right, what was it you wanted to talk about?"

In the lounge, she sat with two other kids her age.

There was Denise, a human girl with a blonde hair, blue eyes combo to kill for and ambitions of working in a university someday. Lynn had a painting of her somewhere in her room, of her in their history class when she was so engulfed in the lesson that she didn't even notice that Lynn was looking at her.

The other was a half betazoid, half human boy called Hayden, who was very interested in going into Starfleet security. He hated nearly every class and, from what she could tell, only enjoyed the moments they were allowed to socialize and be friendly with each other.

And then there was her. Marilyn Addams, daughter of a little mentioned but still very, very important engineer aboard the ship. She was a very unconfident girl, with brownish, redish hair that fell just below her shoulders, green eyes, and an extreme want to be a captain of her own ship someday.

The last of their merry band of unsociable, or in Hayden's case, unliked teens was Wesley Crusher, who was running late. They assumed, as usual, that he was working on something in engineering. He was good at working there, and it was something he loved to do, but he still ended up in their out-crowd, as she was thinking of it as.

"Where even is that kid?" Denise asked bitterly, as they had been sitting there for nearly ten minutes.

"You know how he is," Lynn responded. "He'll be here soon and if he isn't, we could at least try to make conversation."

"Alright," Hayden offered a saucy, devilish grin and added, "Why don't you two lovely ladies tell me more about yourselves."

As if on cue, Wes came running in, apologizing for being late and saying he knew the perfect thing they could do.

"Bowling?" the girls asked in unison.

"Yeah, it's the one where you try-" Hayden began.

"We know what it is," Denise quipped.