I do not own X-Men anything.
Or teenagers. Yet.
Dream On
Girl Power
"Alright, what is a logical argument in which each statement you make is supported by a statement that is accepted as true? Ray?"
"A proof!"
"Correct!"
Shower of green sparks over the head of the proud scholar.
"What is a statement that describes a fundamental relationship between basic terms of geometry and is accepted as true without proof? Jenny?"
"Postulate!"
"Correct!"
Shower of purple sparks.
"What is a statement or conjecture that can be proven true by given definitions, postulates, or already proven theorems? Joe?"
"A theorem!"
"Correct!"
Shower of orange sparks.
"What is an educated guess based on known information called? Joy?"
"Hypothesis?"
"No. Try again."
". . . Conjecture?"
"Yes!"
Red and blue sparks.
"Okay, name a . . ."
Class was over. The quiz papers on the teacher's desk.
And everyone was gone.
Well, not quite everyone.
"Jubilation-"
"It's Jubilee."
The strawberry blond cleared her throat, setting herself square with the young mutant.
Who was clearly preparing herself for tongue lashing for her classroom antics.
By popping her gum louder and crossing her arms defiantly across her chest.
"Jubilee. Your power is very unique-"
"Yeah and dangerous, I know."
Susanna Cambridge, resident geometry teacher of the Xavier School and not just a little bit of a patient pyropath (she'd paid surprisingly little in heating billing before coming to Xavier's), started again.
"Jubilee, I was wondering if you would like some extra tutoring in geometry. I think if we apply your ability to your studies, you would really excel."
The girl tried her best to look apathetic.
"Why would I be interested in that?"
The teacher smiled.
"Because . . ."
Suddenly a perfectly isosceles triangle of flame appeared in the palm of her hand, forming and reforming itself over and over again.
". . . then you can give form to your abilities. And really show off."
Jubilation Lee stared at the triforce of flame floating above the adult's hand.
And grinned.
The pryopath grinned back.
"Yeah?"
"Yes!"
". . . been studying her, Hank?"
"Yes."
"And these fireworks-"
"Technically, they're energy plasmoids-"
"Energy . . . plasmoids. Are they dangerous?"
"They can be. Anything composed of explosive energy can be damaging."
"Hmm . . ."
Charles Xavier's mental list of Potentially Deconstructive Mutants was growing uncomfortably long.
And complicated.
Of course, they didn't always use their powers to fight back against their adversaries.
"Urrrggghhh . . ."
"Pardon, what exactly has happened here?"
Another hallway.
Another day.
Another dispute.
Another tale to be told.
"Well . . ."
"That's not possible!"
"Well, she is!"
"Nuh-nuh!"
"Yeah, and she doesn't need to be pretty or wear short skirts to do it! Margaret Thatcher is a badass!"
"She can't be in charge of a whole country, she's a woman!"
" . . . and that's why I had to kick him in the balls, Professor!"
Heavy sigh from the man in the wheelchair.
A nod of affirmation.
"Alright, young man, you'd be better get up and apologize."
"Me, why me?"
"Is she telling the truth of what you you said?"
"Well, yeah."
"There's your reason."
"Man . . ."
"Teresa, if you feel so inclined . . ."
"Okay, okay!"
Were all conflicts so easily resolved.
Though Mother Hen Xavier found himself quite weary at times of mediating them.
UFO sightings seemed to have risen substantially in upstate New York.
And nobody . . .
"One . . ."
. . . quite knew why.
". . . two . . . "
Or would readily admit it.
". . . three!"
Teresa Cassidy's sonic burst met with Jubilee's turquoise energy plasmoid, sending it soaring wildly above the the treeline before disappating like a smoke ring.
"Yes! High five!"
The girls burst into girlish laughter, faces aglow with triumph.
And suddenly felt they were being watched.
Turning in unison, they found themselves face to face with . . .
Boys.
Lizard Eyes.
And two of his buddies.
Complete with an unfortunate set of fresh acne and raging hormones
Were staring, rather unceremoniously at two very pretty, very giggling, very smiley teenage girl mutants.
And really couldn't think of a single thing to say but . . .
"Hi."
With of course prompted said girls to respond appropriately.
And run giggling off in the other direction.
"Where they stumbled across the withdrawn, defunct Jean Grey . . .
Handprints on the glass, why am I thinking of flowers . . .
. . . alone by herself, back against a largw, towering oak.
"Hey, oh, hey!" Jubilee exclaimed sincerely. "Wow, your hair is beautiful!"
Jean Grey barely smiled, pressing back as if to actually become one with the tree if possible.
"Hi. Um, thank you."
The energy plasmoid sparks shooter dove on.
"I'm Jubilee! I blow stuff up!"
The girl on the ground seemed uncomfortable, almost squirrelly.
"Jean."
"What do you do?"
"Nothing."
"Oh."
The bubbly girl seemed to take this in stride.
"Wanna go do nothing on the kitchen? I need a Tab."
Silence from the girl on the ground.
"Um, ok."
They say your life affects your writing.
How obvious is it that it's the end of the school year for me? *facepalm*
Thanks to brigid1318 and Muggleborn92 for the great reviews!