Maybe if I'd known how many people were going to show up around breakfast time, I would've gone back to bed.

Person after person poured in through the kitchen doors, talking and laughing at one another. They came so quickly it was almost impossible to take in any of their appearances.

I'm sure a lot of you have experienced what it feels like to start out at a new school and have everyone staring at you with the 'that's the new kid' look on their face. Well, I've found the one thing that's worse than that feeling.

That is, the feeling you get when you're new and not one person even acknowledges you.

It might not seem so bad, but the problem is the tension. You know that sooner or later, someone is going to notice you, and give you that 'new kid' look, but you have no idea when it's going to start.

But I was trying to teach myself to look at the positives instead of the negatives. Quite a hard task for a pessimist, but I was going to give it a shot anyway.

My positive for this situation would be that, with no one noticing me yet, I could take a good long look at each of the people sitting before me.

I swivelled on the bar stool I'd been using to sit at the bench and tried to memorise as many faces as I could.

The women were definitely outnumbered by the men.

Closer to me, there was a very loud, twenty-something in a Hawaiian shirt poking fun at a really tall muscular man who looked like he was about to stab him with a fork. Just next to them sat a short hairy man who looked incapable of smiling and a dark woman with stark white hair eating quietly, and exchanging only a few words here and there.

The group further away consisted of a woman with a hairdo that made her look like she was wearing either a skunk or a very small badger as a hat, and a man with five o'clock shadow and weird pinky-red coloured eyes. Also, how could I possibly forget to mention the man with the huge white wings sticking out of his back.

There were a few other people spattered around, but my eyes wouldn't stay on them for long, preferring the more – 'visually entertaining' of the bunch.

I was still in shock at some of these people's appearances (mostly just trying to cope with the wings), when, out of the corner of my eye, I could see Hawaiian shirt guy staring at me.

Oh crap, here it comes.

"Who are you?"

I hadn't noticed how loud it had been in the room until the noise suddenly stopped. It was so quiet; I think I could hear the short guy blinking.

"Uh…" I let out a stupid noise as all eyes in the room turned to look at me.

There was a dramatic pause as I tried to force some words to come out of my gaping mouth, but it just kept opening and shutting like something from a mini-golf course.

"This, Bobby, is Seven."

Yes! I was saved from having to answer when Tall-g- uh, I mean… oh no. What was his name?

"She's one of the new recruits we picked up in the jet yesterday."

Steve? Stanley? I know it started with an S. Or was it a C…

I felt my eyebrows rise as I leaned back towards S-name, speaking in barely above a whisper. "Are there always this many of you?"

"Sometimes more," he whispered back, freaking me out even more.

He cleared his throat; effectively getting everyone's attention back to him after they'd begun speaking again.

"Everyone, you have twenty minutes to eat your breakfast before morning drills start." He left the room to a chorus of groans.

What the hell are 'morning drills'?

"I must thank you, Ms. Taylor. If it weren't for this appointment of ours, I would be stuck outside doing drills with the rest of them." He gave a deep growling chuckle as he adjusted his spectacles to get a better look at me.

I laughed along nervously for a minute before words splurted out of my mouth without permission.

"You're blue."

I kind of miss my voice not working.

Dr. McCoy stared at me blankly for a moment.

My positive for this situation would be that I was learning new things and gaining further knowledge of exactly what a mutation can do to a person's… colour for example.

"Well, at least we can cross 'colour-blind' off the list," he muttered finally. He picked up a clip board and pen and ambled slowly towards me. "Now, Seven, because you're new, I will need to take all of your medical details. With the x-men, you will have to undergo a monthly examination to make sure you aren't being brainwashed by alien slugs, or anything of the sort."

I was still too startled by his skin tone for me to realise he was joking.

Seeing my worried expression, he quickly added, "But that kind of thing is very unlikely to happen."

So on he went with the examination, occasionally making smart-people jokes that I didn't get, so he had to laugh at them on his own.

I'd been there for about a half hour when he swivelled in his desk chair and pulled off his spectacles with a fanged grin.

"Well, Ms. Taylor, I think I may have identified your mutation."

I kept my mouth closed this time in the hopes that it would stop any comments about his fur popping out unexpectedly. Instead, I let my eyes do the talking.

And my mutation would be…?

"Judging by the growth pattern of the bones in your arm, and, in fact, all over your body, I'd say you have a more than good chance of having bone manipulation capabilities."

"What, so you think I'm willing this to happen?" Ah! Who let the guard down on my mouth?

"No, I think that your body is. A few weeks from now, going by the growth rate, the bones in your body will have extended above your skin in certain areas, creating a sort of natural armour to protect you."

Once again I found myself unable to think, or form words. All I had was a single thought circling around and around in my skull.

Great, complained the thought. I'm slowly turning inside out because my body thinks it's for my own good.

My positive for this situation would be – ah, screw it.

There is no such thing as a 'silver lining'.

I spent the rest of the morning carefully avoiding everyone. I didn't really feel like being interrogated by anyone right now, and the Hawaiian shirt dude looked particularly like he wanted to grill me for information.

I grabbed some food stores from the kitchen cabinet Jean had been rifling through the night before and headed back in the direction of my temporary bed. It was just about the only place I knew how to get to. I'd already gotten lost twice today, because Jean forgot to mention, 'oh, by the way, we're in a mansion'.

I scuttled into the lounge room, trying not to drop anything and kicked the door shut behind me.

I threw all the stolen foods down on my make shift bed and just stood for a second.

Then I broke.

I guess it was just too much for me. One moment I was standing up perfectly fine, if not a little depressed, and the next my knees had buckled beneath me and I was on the floor in tears.

Everything I'd been holding back for the last two days suddenly came rushing out of me in one big go.

I can't say I didn't know why I was crying. Heck, with everything that's happened the last few days I think I was quite right to ball my eyes out. The thing I didn't know was why I was crying there and then instead of when the bad stuff was actually happening.

I guess that's one more thing I got from my dad. The initial reaction to just soldier through anything the universe throws at you until you're sure you're alone.

Problem was; I'd forgotten that I wasn't alone.

I began mentally cursing myself as I heard a Texan accent coming from across the room. "Whoa, are you alright?"

Jean said she hadn't been too far out of the way. In what way was Texas 'not too far out of the way'?

There was a squeak from the sofa bed as the girl climbed off it to kneel down beside me.

Instantly, I sucked up all my emotions and locked them away like a pro. I blinked furiously, trying to make my eyesight come back into focus.

Forcing a smile through my now soggy and mucus covered face, I went to say 'I'm fine'.

A simple enough task, but apparently something still managed to get confused on the way to my mouth because what came out wasn't 'I'm fine' so much as the opposite.

"Not really." I sniffed. I concentrated and tried to correct my mistake. "It's just that a lot of stuff has happened in a very short period of time, and I guess I'm just having trouble handling it."

Okay… I had completely lost control over my vocal chords. I understood this to be a bad thing.

She put a comforting hand on my shoulder and spoke quietly. I think she might've guessed I was worried by the fact I pressed a hand to my throat, feeling to check if everything was still there.

"Sorry; it's kind of a side affect of being near me."

She sighed when I looked at her with a confused expression. "Let's just say, people find it hard to lie when I'm around."

Of course. It was her mutation. I should have known the universe wasn't going to let me forget the 'M' word, even for a second.

I looked back down at the floor again, feeling thoroughly uncomfortable after my little outburst. I didn't bother sniffing, this time opting to just rub my nose along my sleeve.

She spoke again, trying to break down the massive barrier of awkwardness that had just settled down between us.

"You must be Seven, huh?"

I tied to answer, but my throat was too clogged up with mucus from my crying spell for me to speak without sounding like Mickey Mouse, so I just nodded and gave a weak smile.

Of course, what I had wanted to say was 'if you're a telepath and just read my mind, I WILL hurt you', but I didn't know how to say that using body language, so nodding and smiling would have to do for now.

"They told me about you last night when you were still asleep." At least I wouldn't have to kill her. "I'm Aisha," she added thrusting a hand towards me with a friendly smile.

I shook her hand and opened my mouth to grumble a 'nice to me you', but then I remembered that I couldn't lie, and thought maybe it was best to stay away from that sort of thing.

"Yeah," I cleared my throat, hearing my high pitched voice. I averted my eyes again. "They told me about you too."

Then she got really quiet and her grin dropped into a barely visible understanding smile.

"They told you what happened, didn't they?" It was more of a statement than an actual question.

I don't know why it made me feel guilty, but it just did.

"Yeah." Then the overwhelming need to defend myself took over. "But only a little bit, y'know. I mean, they didn't give me any details or anything."

She took in a deep breath and glanced towards the door as though someone was about to burst in to listen to our conversation.

"That's because I didn't give them any details." Her voice fell to a whisper and she leaned closer to me. "When they asked what happened, I pretended to pass out again."

Oh, so Jean doesn't read HER mind to find this kind of stuff out, that's just a privilege saved for ME.

She continued. "I know I'm supposed to trust these people, but I just can't bring myself to do it. I don't know them."

I felt exactly the same way. Maybe this chick wouldn't be so bad to have around after all.

The tears had dried off by now, but my face was still red and blotchy. And also kind of itchy. Y'know, like your skin gets when you leave moisture on it for too long?

My eyes landed on my school bag sitting by my bed/lounge and I suddenly remembered that I was still wearing my clothes from yesterday.

"Uh, I think that I should maybe get changed." I announced, pointing towards my school bag. "It's just that I might start to reek after a week or two."

She smiled and nodded, which I assumed meant that I had permission to leave the conversation.

After I'd grabbed my clothes and was heading out the door, I heard her call one last thing.

"It was nice to meet you, Seven."

I smiled and turned back.

"Nice to meet you too, Aisha."

You remember the buddy system that teachers use to make sure no kids get lost on school excursions, right?

Well, I'm just starting to think that maybe I should've thought of using that system.

I was lost again.

I don't quite know how it happened. It started with me taking a right where I should've taken a left, but when I realised and went to go back, I must have taken another wrong turn, because after five minutes of walking, I was now standing in a huge deserted metal corridor with big round doors sticking out from the wall every so often. I'd been down here once to get my check up with Dr. McCoy, but Jean had taken me down in an elevator.

I at least had enough common sense to think 'hmm, don't think this is the right place', and so I turned around to jog back up the stairs.

Problem with jogging up stairs is that you can't do it through solid objects, and the last time I checked; people were pretty solid.

As I turned, I walked smack bang into someone's chest. Rubbing my nose and grumbling under my breath, I opened my eyes to scowl at whoever it had been that blocked my path.

The first thing my eyes were met with was the light blue floral pattern of a Hawaiian t-shirt.