The next day, Riffa tiptoed past the slumbering adults and headed outside to the bus stop a couple blocks away. As she waited for the yellow school bus to arrive, her eyelids hung heavy, she still being sleepy from the late night escapade. She let her eyes close and listened to the dead leaves swirl around in the cool breeze crackling and crunching as they skipped about. Thomas, Marco, and Arisa had already left. The older kids took a different bus. For some reason, the school she attended separated freshmen from the upperclassmen for transport. Soon she heard the lumbering diesel vehicle pull onto the street. It came to a stop with a whine and a hiss and she boarded the bus with a few of her other classmates. She claimed her usual seat near the back on the passenger side. She stuffed her hand in her jacket pocket and settled in for the 30 minute ride to school. No one on the bus bothered her. No one knew she was a mutant.

At school, Riffa met with no one. Once people found out she was an orphan, well, she could never make any lasting friendships. Add to that missing a hand under "mysterious circumstances" (At least, in their opinion. Riffa let them think what they wanted,) and no one cared to get close to her. She didn't mind. She found many of them to be annoying anyways. At least in art class some of her classmates would talk to her and compliment her on her work. She felt a sense of camaraderie there. She just had to wait until the second to last class of the day to enjoy the company and solace. It was going to be hard enough making it through the first class of the day - Math.

She retrieved her books for the morning and reluctantly entered period one. Seats were assigned, so she sat at her usual desk with her assigned group for the next few weeks. Her teacher regularly changed things up. She had placed Riffa in a group that had one other struggling student and two advanced students. It was the teacher's hope that the two advanced students would help the struggling ones. But they were just impatient. And they couldn't explain how a plug went into a socket if they had to; it was too much of a bother. So Riffa did her best to not annoy them.

She would say she was okay at math. The problem (heh, math pun) was that it was the first class of the day. Many nights she stayed up late helping with heists or listening to the thudding music from the living room. She just couldn't focus. It took at least until third period to wake up. But they were only a month into the school year. Things could change.

Her teacher, Ms Dorner, stood at the board explaining a new set of equations to find the value of x or y in different situations when Riffa felt her head nod forward. She caught herself and shook the sleepiness off. It had been hard to fall asleep after such a charged evening. She decided to doodle to keep her semi focused. But soon she got lost in the world she was creating, her wandering thoughts being broken by a worksheet sliding over her notebook.

"No drawing in class, Riffa. Unless you're making a comic about solving math problems."

The class snickered at the scolding. Riffa kept her eyes on her worksheet. It contained problems to practice the new equations they were learning. She sighed and did her best.

Gym followed Math class. Since she currently had a failing grade in the class, and since Kerri told her she had to bring her grade up, she decided to actually attend. But she wouldn't be changing into gym clothes. She drew the line there. When she shuffled into class, her head ducked down but eyes on alert, her teacher rose an eyebrow at her entrance. Riffa acknowledged woman and took a seat on the bleachers. Soon everyone filed out of the locker rooms, some starting to play basketball, others chatting in groups by the bleachers.

"Alright everyone! Gather 'round. Chop chop."

The class gathered in a loose clump near the teacher. Some boys jostled each other, poking fun about something.

"Today we're playing five on five basketball games. I'll assign the teams so things are a little more fair."

Once the teams were organised, the teacher walked up to Riffa.

"No uniform? Did you forget yours?"

"No."

"If you want to participate tomorrow, I insist you wear your uniform."

"My clothes won't impede my participation," Riffa argued.

"I don't care. Those are the rules. If I make a concession for you, then others will want the same treatment."

Riffa looked down with a frown on her face. Maybe she'd fail the class anyways.

The rest of the day was more or less uneventful. She was assigned a paper to write in English. They did memorization work on the periodic table of elements in Physical Science. Finally she attended her calm in the storm - art class, specifically, painting and drawing.

In art, they were working on developing the method of gesture drawings, a technique that added fluidity and movement to a drawing by emphasizing the lines of a subject over the details. Her classmates took turns posing and the sketchers had 30 seconds to capture the pose with their quick, vague charcoal lines. Five minutes before the end of class, they added their works into their portfolios. The teacher then clapped her hands, shaking the metal bangles on her wrists, and arrested everyone's attention.

"Alright. Good job today, students! Before you go, I have an announcement. In six weeks we will participate in an art show. We will pick the medium by random. But first, I need suggestions; pertaining to Drawing and Painting of course."

She wrote down the shouted offerings of her class. Riffa secretly hoped for a charcoal drawing. She then put the pieces of paper in a prop hat and shook them in a jumble. "Alright, Hannah, pick our medium."

The girl with hair the color of a sugar maple leaf in fall plunged her hand into the hat and rifled around for just the right choice. She plucked the white paper out and opened it with bright eyes.

"Ink!" she exclaimed.

"It's decided then, compose a piece in ink. That is all the criteria I give you. You have six weeks to complete your piece, in addition to any minor assignments I give you." The bell then rang and the class filtered out with excited babble.

Finally, after one last class, Riffa was on her way home. Her feeling of safety and contentedness fading away with each passing block and being replaced with a gnawing pain in her stomach. School may have had its drawbacks, but its predictability and order were preferable to the chaos of the foster home. Soon she departed at her stop and dragged her feet as she made her way back to the foster home. On her block, before passing by an overgrown juniper shrub, a familiar young man stepped out in front of her. Riffa halted and watched the newcomer warily.

"Gerrin, what are you doing here?"

"I can visit home, can't I?" he grinned, falling in step with her and walking the rest of the way together. "So, how is my little sister doing?" he asked elbowing her side.

He always called her his sister, ever since she had come to the foster home at 10 years old. All the younger siblings were brother and sister. "I'm fine."

"And school? You're a freshman now! High school. They grow up so fast," he pretended to wipe a tear away.

"Don't be so weird," she grumbled. Gerrin laughed and patted her head. "What are you doing here anyways?"

"Hmm, I'm here to see Kerri."

Riffa pondered this. It didn't escape her notice that after Gerrin turned 18, he left the foster home and joined a gang of young adults he'd associated with in the years leading up to his release from the system. She also knew they were mutants and mutant sympathizers. And they did several illegal things. Gerrin was a good guy, but he made bad choices. Meeting with Kerri certainly had a bad ring to it. He expounded no further on the meeting. They entered the house and parted ways.

In her room, Riffa worked on her homework. She heard footsteps ascending the stairs and soon Arisa was standing in her doorway.

"Hey, did you see Gerrin is here?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"He looks so much more mature and grown up. I wonder what he's been up to."

"Nothing good, I'm sure," Riffa said with an edge of bitterness.

"What is good, Riffa? There's only survival. And some of us have the guts to make the hard decisions to survive," Arisa snipped.

"Or you could decide to do something good with your life. Something that benefits society instead of stealing from others and harming yourself with drugs, which is all Kerri does and I'm sure what Gerrin does, too."

"You think you're so righteous! Grow up, Riffa! The world isn't as fair as you think it is." At that she left with a huff. Riffa glared at the empty doorway then returned to her work with tense concentration.

'I know it's not fair. But that doesn't mean I need to add to it.'

But her heated encounter with Arisa was far from over. Kerri soon bellowed from downstairs. "Brats! Get down here!"

The four teenagers and two young ones stood in the living room. Kerri lounged on the couch and Gerrin stood by the unused fireplace.

"Gerrin has a proposition for us. It can make us very rich," Kerri began, a greedy smile spreading across her face. Gerrin hopped in to explain the rest.

"My gang is planning a demonstration to show we are not to be messed with. We want to run this city and bring some of the unsavory elements under our control. It will make things better for people like us, and help out the little man, so to speak. And so, I need use of your expertise." He then outlined what his gang planned to do. The current ruling gang in the city had a nightclub they ran where the leader and his top brass frequented to drink and relax, as well as do business. Lots of money exchanged hands at that nightclub. But that money was unfairly taken from the poor, hard working people as a charge for their safety. Gerrin wanted to end this tyranny and enact a new form of protection that put no strain on the neighbors he served. It seemed noble.

But at the same time, he wanted to make sure the local authorities knew his intention and firm stand to do this. He suspected some of them were in the gang's pockets. He planned to make the known dirty cops pay for their crimes. He wouldn't say how.

"I've known many of you for several years. I know what you can do and how you feel about these problems. I know you want to help. Join me and we will succeed. When you graduate high school, you are guaranteed a place with the family. What do you say?" he looked at them with serious expectancy, his arms folded behind his back.

Riffa had to admit he presented a convincing plea. She could see the logic behind his motivation. And she was well aware of the constrains the local gang put on the community, something the authorities were slow to contain, almost as if they didn't want to. But he was putting himself up against some powerful people. It gave her trepidation to involve herself in something so big. But Thomas was quick to agree (of course).

"I'll help. I'd be happy to melt a few locks, or limbs, to pass along the message." His hands glowed an orange red in eager anticipation.

"If I can help, I'd like to," Marco said with a shrug.

"Of course," Gerrin said with an enthusiastic nod. "We could definitely use your help, Marco."

"Fine. I'll join you. I'd rather have something to go to after the waste of time school is over," Arisa said.

"Thank you, Arisa. I was hoping you would say yes," Gerrin said with a wink. Marco caught that gesture and leveled a glare at him. Gerrin ignored this and looked over at Riffa. "What about you, little sis? Will you help?"

What a loaded question. Of course she wanted to help, but in a totally safe and legal way. There were things she'd do to put food in her belly. But social revolution? That was a bit much. Everyone looked at her expectantly. Arisa rolled her eyes at Riffa's long pause.

"She won't do it. She thinks she's a goody two shoes who's going to make it in this world with her art and stories. Her head is the clouds. You don't want her." Arisa's bitter remarks caused Riffa to blush in embarrassment. Kerri added further flavor to the chastening.

"She's always been a know-it-all, thinking her way is best. Well, I say anyone that doesn't help doesn't deserve to eat," she said, drawing an ultimatum.

"Do you expect Gina and Henry to starve?" Riffa countered, calling her bluff.

"No, 'cause they're going to help out, too. You're never too young to fight for a cause!" Kerri insisted. Riffa was appalled at this. She looked at Gerrin as if to say, 'Do you agree?' He shrugged.

"We'll take anybody, even Gina and Henry. What do you think, kids?"

"Yeah! I want to blow something up!" Henry said excitedly.

"That's the spirit," Gerrin praised, ruffling Henry's fluffy hair. Gina quietly added her acceptance to volunteer. Riffa was standing as the odd one out. It went against what principles she had, but she couldn't exist on the streets by herself. She would do it, if only to watch out for the younger ones.

"Fine," Riffa said bitterly. "I'll help you." She knew with a sinking feeling she would regret it.

Up in her room, she gazed at the business card for probably the 10th time since she received it. Earlier, Gerrin had returned to his home, with promise of coming back once plans were set in stone and he would give them their assignments. It was risky, he said, but it was for a noble cause. And no noble cause was realized without risk.

She thought about what it must be like at that school for mutants. Did they have to join rebellions just for some food on the table? She figured, no. What would that Logan guy think if he found out she had powers? Did he suspect it all along? Or did he just see a wayward teen and hoped to help? It interested her that he was a mutant with scary, deadly powers, but he found a way to benefit the people around him. Riffa always thought that with destructive powers, there was no way to use them for good. Her's weren't particularly destructive, but they were invasive. She wasn't sure how they could be particularly beneficial.

She slid the card back under the mattress and turned onto her side. Gazing out into her small room, she contemplated her increasingly complicated life; and also what she would draw for the art show.

A week later, Gerrin returned with finalized plans. They needed to accomplish two goals: Cripple the gang by stealing the majority of their goods and money. And rat out the dirty cops, with the hope of pinning the robbery of the gang on the dirty cops, as if it were a raid. The gang would be out of commission and the cops would stay out their way - by hopefully being dead at the hands of the gang. To accomplish these goals, they needed supplies. Gerrin's group would do the majority of the grunt work, but the foster kids would be needed for their expertise.

As per Gerrin's plan, they needed evidence to plant at the raid to incriminate the cops. A badge, name tag, piece of their clothing with their name on it - identity. And that's where Riffa came in. All she needed to do was get close to the cop in question and freeze them. Another person would take what they could grab and the two would be on their way. In order to come to terms with the plan, Riffa told herself the cop was getting what they deserved by aiding in cheating the people they were meant to serve and protect.

Prior to this, after weeks of surveillance, Gerrin and his gang were able to ID all the dirty cops. He finally gave Riffa the list and pictures and told her to get to work. She had five days to get to all of them. He assigned Gina to help her. She could use her ability to turn into a bird and be a lookout, or swoop in and grab what was needed.

Thomas, Marco, and Arisa would train with Gerrin's gang for both of the raids. It needed to be quick and seamless or it would be doomed to failure.

The next day, Riffa located her first target, Officer Cho. He walked out of the coffee shop with a disposable cup of something steaming and caffeinated. Riffa chose her moment to strike and came out from her hiding spot behind his car, sneaking up behind him. But he noticed her approaching in the side mirror. She saw him stiffen up and prepare to confront her. Hey, she was learning. Sneaking up on people didn't come natural to most.

She reached out her hand before he could turn around and froze him in place. She snatched his badge, then hesitated on what to do next. People she froze typically returned what they had been doing immediately after she let go, particularly because they never knew they'd been frozen. Gina must've noticed her hesitance and flew down to land on the roof of the patrol car. She cocked her head and looked at her with beady, black eyes and let out a clipped chirp.

"Humanize near that alley and scream the moment I let go," Riffa ordered her.

Gina flew away and into the alley. Now in human form, she poked her head around the corner of the cafe and gave Riffa a nod. Riffa let go. Before the man could turn further around he whipped his head toward the piercing scream coming from ahead of him. He plopped his cup on the roof of his car and ran to investigate. Riffa bolted in the opposite direction.

"What is it, dear? What's wrong?" he asked Gina, kneeling down before her.

"I saw a big rat!" she whimpered.

"Oh, I thought you were in trouble. Rats won't hurt you, dear. Please don't scream like that unless you are in trouble, okay?"

Gina nodded and skipped away with a content grin on her face. Officer Cho shook his head, then turned back to look at his car. He scanned the area, remembering he'd seen a girl earlier, but didn't see anyone now. He shrugged, grabbed his coffee, and got into his car, driving down the street to catch traffic violators in the act.

Riffa got better with the other two. They never saw or heard her coming. Soon one name tag was gone; another, their hat missing from the passenger seat. She brought her bounty to Gerrin when he came to retrieve it at the deadline.

"Great job, you two! You're a good team."

Riffa had to agree. She looked over at the girl and gave her a broad smile that Gina returned with a chuckle. She just wished they could use their skills for something more...beneficial.

"How's the training going?" Riffa asked.

"Good. We've almost got it to perfection. And it needs to be. One mistake could unravel the entire plan."

Riffa nodded, a tightening sensation forming in her stomach. They were about to do something big, something dangerous. She couldn't help but worry about the outcome. Gerrin seemed worried, too. He didn't carry his usual breezy attitude and looked around as if on constant alert. After discussing a few things with Kerri, he left.

And then the night of attack arrived.