Thanks to hippiechick2112 for reviewing! And of course Jean's there ;)

Ororo passed less of her GED exam than Scott did, and she wasn't happy about that. Although he was older and had been in school far longer—from kindergarten, whereas she only started a couple of years ago—she considered herself smarter than him. The GED had indicted otherwise.

They both passed the social studies component. Scott of course passed the reading and writing sections easily, and surprised himself by passing science, though he fell short in math. Besides social studies, math was the only section Ororo passed.

So she wasn't happy. She needed to retake reading, writing, and science; Scott needed to retake math.

"I went to the woods because I wished to live del… deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach—what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die—okay, what is this?" Ororo demanded, looking up from her study guide.

They had been asked to stay out of the way while the Professor's student was here, at least for now. It was understandable, really. He had explained that he built a careful environment for her to feel safe and wanted to introduce them, but not suddenly.

So Ororo and Scott sat on the grass at the side of the mansion with study guides that were meant to help them prepare for their next test.

"It's from Walden, I think," Scott replied. He leaned over to look at the passage. "Yeah. Walden."

"That helped."

"Well, let's take it one sentence at a time. Actually, these are complex-compound sentences. One phrase at a time. 'I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately.'"

"Deliberately? Doesn't that mean on purpose?"

"Yes."

"Well that doesn't make sense," Ororo replied. "You can't decide to live, you're born and you live, it's that simple."

"He means more than physically living. He means the quality of his life, the things he does every day and how they impact him. Living is more than just being alive."

Ororo shrugged. "So he went to the woods for this?"

"I think he felt too confined by society."

She considered that for a moment. It sounded a lot like running away to her. It was too hard for him to live as he wanted to around other people. Why did he care so much what they thought? Why was he letting them make his choices?

"Okay, think about it this way. You used to cover your hair, right?"

"When I was a kid, yes."

"When you were in the desert, did you still do it?"

She thought about that. "Not at night. During the day I had to. I was blistering everywhere."

"Did you like having your hair uncovered?"

Again, she had to think about it—but not for long. The day was beautiful, warm weather and a sky with just a few fluffy white clouds. A breeze ruffled her hair. It was a simple good feeling.

"Yes."

"Would you have done it back in Cairo?"

Ororo shook her head. "My hair is different. It's obvious. Dangerous." Her hair would stand out anywhere but a retirement home—and the rest of her would stand out there.

Scott nodded.

A moment later, she realized what he had done.

"That's different."

"Why?"

"Because it's different! It was actually literally dangerous to me."

"Okay, but how about what you were looking at when we went to the market?"

Ororo's eyes widened. She looked away. "I didn't know you saw that."

"You can do it if you want," Scott assured her. "I get it. I don't like being stared at either, and it's way less obvious for me."

"I'm not really going to dye my hair."

"You thought about it, though. And that's what Thoreau wanted to escape when he went into the woods."

No matter how accepting Scott was about it, Ororo didn't like that he had caught her looking at hair dye. And she was only looking. So did that make her better or worse than Thoreau? Running away did kind of make him a coward, but at least he was dedicated to his cowardice.

Then again…

"So we're like him. Aren't we?"

"How?" Scott asked.

"Because real life is too hard, and we came here."

"Thoreau's situation was a little more… rustic," he replied, which was probably a fair assessment. Most things were more rustic. "And our lives have probably been harder."

Ororo couldn't argue with that and she knew it. She glanced at Scott's shirt. He didn't talk much about the orphanage, but she had seen the scars and heard the nightmares. If they truly had retreated from the world, they had good reasons.

His were easier to think about, because remembering the emptinesses of her past just hurt. Ororo pulled her knees up to her chest when she thought about what happened to her in the desert, about watching her home burn, and—bitterest—about what happened to a friend back in Kenya. All of that and it was before coming here!

For a while they sat quietly, both lost in their own miseries. Their lives, Ororo thought, truly had been harder than most, and she didn't care for the self-pity it made her feel. She could get caught up in this. It would weigh her down.

Anyway, it made her stronger.

There were better things to think about, though. Like snacks.

Or, as she discovered, not.

"Did you seriously eat all the pretzels?"

"What? No. There's—okay, most of them, yes."

"Well, go get more."

"Ororo, we agreed."

They would give plenty of space for Professor Xavier's student. Yes. And it was fair. They had been given such space when they first arrived.

Still…

"You agreed."

"Ororo."

"Fight you for it."

"We're not—"

She tackled him. Scott had always been the better fighter and had her pinned in a moment, but Ororo was scrappier and she pounced again as soon as he let her up.

Once they set in, nothing stood a chance. Book pages were bent and the remaining pretzels crushed. They alternated laughing and hushing each other, sounds that quite easily could have given the wrong impression.

Ororo was just about to get the upper hand when they were interrupted with a telepathic request to come inside.

"I win," she announced.

"No way."

"I do. We're meeting Charles's student after all."