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A fly buzzed so close its drone roared. She watched it—the frustration bounced against her belly—she pointed.
Zap!
The fly fell to the grass.
It was Laurie's stupid fault! Laurie and her no control, Laurie and her meanness, Laurie not caring about anyone but herself like her power didn't leak out and contaminate everyone around her—
Zap!
A dandelion this time, growing unwanted in the middle of the path. Now a weed, now ash. The frustration ricocheted from one lung to the other, back and forth.
Moving targets were more satisfying, really. Ororo held out her hand, gathering a ball of lightning in it. Moving, not swaying like the grass, and she felt a sourness in her as she spotted one. She would regret this, later, but right now—
"Stop it."
She turned, a ball of lightning crackling in her hand. The reality of that moment crashed over her. Part of Ororo had been a thief and a runaway and looked after herself all the while, but another, very big part of her was new to the United States and undone by the strangeness. Even she had known what she nearly did was wrong, but that second part of her said it was okay as long as no one knew.
Now Scott knew. He had seen. Ororo felt her chin quiver and hefted her lightning.
Scott shook his head: no, he was not afraid. "Get rid of it."
"You don't give me orders, Scott Summers."
He looked no more certain than she felt. Ororo narrowed her eyes.
"Get rid of it or I'll tell Professor Xavier what you were about to do."
"You can't know what I was going to do, you're not a mind reader."
She realized her mistake a moment too late to stop herself from making it.
"He is."
Ororo glanced at her lightning, then back to Scott. She knew he would tell—he was the type for telling tales—and she knew she was in the wrong. The problem wasn't what she knew, though, it was: "I don't know how."
This was actually new. She had used lightning before, but never gathered it in a ball like this and certainly never tried to give it back.
Suddenly she frightened herself. The tongues of tiny lightning licking from her hair frightened her.
How this mouse walked right up to her like he wasn't scared, Ororo couldn't imagine. She wasn't sure how his pet cat didn't hunt him.
"Okay, lightning comes from the sky," Scott said. Brave, she thought, but not the cleverest. "Can you send it back to the sky?"
"How?" Dumb idea.
"Um…"
"Well why would you even say it, then?" she demanded. She was standing here with a handful of lightning and he was blathering nonsense!
"Just focus, okay? Think, think about how lightning comes down to you—"
"It just does."
"What do you do to make it?"
Ororo shrugged. She did know the answer, but not the words. She didn't know the words in her own language, let alone the clunky language this boy spoke.
"Will it back to the sky. It comes down from the clouds, it just has to do the same thing in reverse."
He didn't understand, of course. He didn't know how it felt when the energy gathered. Lightning happened; it didn't unhappen. Ororo was caught now in the middle of what should have been a blink-and-you-miss-it process.
"Ororo, open your eyes."
She hadn't realized they were shut, just like she hadn't realized she could send lightning back to the sky. She turned over her hand like the lightning might have just moved, but it hadn't. It was gone. She grinned at Scott, who grinned back for about two seconds before looking at his shoes.
"I can't be stuck here another day," she said. "I can't. I'm not some… pet!"
Scott thought about that for a moment, then nodded. "I'll be right back—don't throw lightning at my cat."
"I won't."
"I swear to God—"
"I said I won't," but since she nearly had, she could only be so indignant.
Artie was a useless animal and so baffling to Ororo, but the fact that she had nearly taken a life disturbed her. Somehow hurting Artie bothered her while hurting the fly did not. Scott had gone inside now and Ororo wondered whether her feelings toward the animal suggested she, too, had appreciation for pets in her.
And she wondered if he had gone to tell, after all. He said he wouldn't, but Scott was—what was the word?
"Okay," he said, stepping outside again. "Do you want to explore?"
"What?"
"Explore," Scott repeated. "The town is that way, over there you'll hit fields, but there's a little wooded area if you cross the road. We can go wherever you want. Ruth said it's okay."
Ororo rolled her eyes because of course Scott asked permission. He was that word, the one she couldn't remember—but she liked the idea, and she had to admit he had given her exactly what she asked for.
"Let's cross the road," she said.
Scott nodded.
They headed across the road, Ororo realizing for the first time that Scott was a good deal larger than she was. It surprised her; she knew she was smaller than everyone else, as well as several years younger, but most of them seemed bigger. Doug certainly was and Laurie was bursting with unfortunate personality.
"Wait up." Scott paused to tie his shoe.
Ororo glanced around, then up at the way the leaves canopied overhead, shifting to show glimpses of a pale blue sky. This she loved. So many things about America she accepted, but for this… she missed home. She always would.
Away from the city, though, she wanted to fly not to leave the earth behind but to join the leaves.
She realized she had been daydreaming for some time. "Honestly!" Until recently, Ororo had never worn a pair of sneakers. Was he some kind of spazmo? "How long does it take you…" and she trailed off, seeing his reasoning walk across the road. "…to…" So! Mouse Boy had cunning in him after all!
Ororo kicked him. He was still crouched down like he needed to tie his shoe, so she caught him in the ribs with the side of her bare foot.
She was at least a dozen centimeters shorter, but Scott didn't retaliate so they left it at that. He just nodded a greeting as Doug and Laurie joined them.