I.
Michael Lawson packed yet another shirt. He was sure that he had already packed way too many clothes for a three-day trip. However, he had learned from his cousin, Monet St. Croix, that options were a necessity. And that there was no such thing as too many clothes or over-packing. He chuckled to himself as he managed to stuff two additional shirts into his oversized Samsonite luggage.
His levity faded as he reflected on many of the recent events that occurred—mainly the battle with Emplate and the subsequent discovery of their kidnapped mentor, Dr. Niles Cain. Though he should have been elated that they defeated the team's arch-nemesis and that Niles was safe, he couldn't help but to focus on the secondary consequences. Marius St. Croix, Emplate's unwilling host, was freed, but severely traumatized, leaving the school without a word to anyone. Niles decided to stay with the Arminthorpe Corporation for reasons unknown, which perplexed them all. Neither one of those situations really turned out to have a heroic happy ending, and it bothered Michael continuously.
A knock at his door jolted him from his whirling thoughts. "Come in, Ethan," he unemotionally directed.
The young man stepped into the room, a concerned frown upon his normally smiling visage. "You could at least act surprised," he said. "Or maybe not telepathically scan anyone who comes within twenty feet."
"It's a habit," Michael nonchalantly replied. "I hope that you didn't come here to ask me how I'm doing for the hundredth time."
Ethan's disapproving frown only deepened. "Reading minds without permission?"
"No, you're just predictable," Michael quipped. He recoiled at his own snippy tone, but didn't even consider apologizing.
"Well, I'll change it up a little. How do you feel about going to the NDC?" Ethan asked.
Michael shrugged, checking his bag one more time before zipping it closed. "I feel okay," he initially responded. He could feel Ethan's steely eyes boring into him, but he didn't turn around. The profound silence lingered, and Michael knew that Ethan waited patiently for further elaboration.
After waiting a few more silent minutes, Ethan commented, "That doesn't reassure me in the least."
Michael whisked around, his brows arched in anger. "What do you expect me to say, Ethan? That everything's fine? I have something inside of me that I still don't understand. The Arminthorpe Corporation is still out there doing God knows what...and now, Dr. Cain is helping them. Don't even get me started on the whole Emplate thing. With everything that's happened, am I really supposed to be fine?"
The air suddenly felt heavy, and for a moment, the atmosphere surrounding Michael seemed to impossibly bend to match his growing ire. But the unusual display didn't faze Ethan even slightly. "No, that's why you have to talk to someone."
"I don't need to talk to anyone," Michael snapped. But his anger quickly lost momentum, and he simply turned away, fiddling with his zipper.
Ethan noticed the tension in the air fade and took a sigh of relief. He knew Michael's powers had grown, but something felt completely different than before. There was something raw and ferocious about his teammate that left him feeling uneasy.
"If you're not fine, then yes, you do," Ethan responded.
Annoyed, Michael replied, "You're like a nagging grandmother."
"Look, I've known you for a long time. I'm just concerned—we all are. Everyone is afraid to ask you because you'll bite their head off."
Michael's eyes flashed as he turned back toward Ethan. "When did this become all about me? Has anyone talked to Monet? What about the twins? Yvette? How about everyone one else that has been through all of these horrendous situations. How are they doing?"
His voice still calm, Ethan said, "Yes, we have. And we're all doing better because we talk about it."
Again, Michael's anger withered. He rubbed his forehead, hoping his growing headache was nothing more than stress. "You know, maybe this NDC thing will give me a bit of a break."
"You're running away from the issue."
Michael crossed his arms, unintentionally flexing his muscular physique. "If I recall, I was recruited for this trip. I didn't ask to go. I get that you're concerned—if I need to talk to any of you about it, then I will. We have a job to do, and that's what I need to focus on."
"If you burn yourself out, you're no good to anyone, most of all yourself."
"Thanks for the friendly reminder," Michael sourly responded. "I hope you don't plan on bothering me the entire trip with this nonsense. I'll deal with it myself. Everyone else is going to have to focus on the mission...including you."
"I simply asked because no one else felt they could."
If he's like this the entire time, I'm going to throw myself into oncoming traffic, Michael ruefully thought.
Ethan's mouth fell open in shock. "You're projecting! I totally heard that, Mike!"
Michael sighed heavily, recalling the lessons on reducing his telepathic footprint. As relayed by his instructor, Jean Grey-Summers, some telepaths possess the ability to amplify their powers based on their emotional state. It could be advantageous in some situations, but Jean warned of the dangers of telepathic and telekinetic power spiraling out of control under the influence of emotion. To Michael, it seemed to be just another drawback to his powers.
Oh, well, at least he knows how I feel. Seriously though, I have got to get a grip. Again, Michael calmed himself. "Sorry. I understand you're concerned, but it's just making things worse."
"Fair. Just don't try to figure all of this out on your own. We're here for you."
Michael smiled wanly. "Thanks. Maybe you should start packing too. We're supposed to be leaving soon."
"Politely telling me to go away?"
"Yes, I am."
Michael waited until the door was closed, and he was alone once again in his room. He let out a heavy sigh and flopped down on the edge of his bed. His headache was slowly getting worse, but that was probably the least of his concerns right now. Closing his eyes, Michael willed himself to calm down. But even as he did so, he recognized that it was getting more difficult to keep his powers under control.
I'll just talk to Jean when I get back, Michael resolved. He could have easily talked to Emma about his worries, but she didn't exactly give off a sympathetic vibe. At least Jean understood—only because she's entangled with the Phoenix too, Michael thought.
Honestly, there was something enormous and frightening about the entity. From what Rico and Paige told him from the files of Cerebra, every time it appeared chaos and destruction followed. He hadn't talked directly to Jean about it previously, even though she helped him through his renewed contact with the force. But if things were going to take a turn for the worse, Michael had to figure out something soon.
Pushing his fears aside, he laid back, hoping to get a bit of rest before heading out. He fell into an uneasy sleep, dreaming of vast space and cleansing fire.
II.
Only a few hours later, the Frost Enterprises jet was already halfway to its destination. The pilot, Frank Buchanan, kept the plane steady, easily circumventing the few patches of turbulence they encountered. Frank had worked for Frost Enterprises for years, first as Winston Frost's pilot, then his daughter's, Emma. Most people cringed at the thought of working the same job for decades, but Frank thought the complete opposite. He loved flying, and despite the Frost family's somewhat taciturn demeanor, they had taken care of him and his family over the years—to that effect, Frank had nothing to complain about.
He glanced back at the plane full of youthful vigor and chatter, reminded of his own teenagers—two sons, one daughter. Outwardly, the kids in the back were no different than his own, but he knew that they were indeed different from his own children—mutants, as the public dubbed them. He had never directly spoken to Ms. Frost about her students, and she never provided any explanation. Though he was curious, and admittedly uncomfortable at first, the more time he spent around them, the more he realized that there was nothing to worry about.
They were always courteous and provided some interesting conversation when they weren't heckling each other. To their credit, they had never displayed any sort of overt foreign ability in his presence, keeping their powers a long-standing secret. He often wondered about Emma Frost and the other headmaster, Sean Cassidy. Surely, being teachers of such unique students would require them to have some powerful abilities of their own. Though his curiosity piqued from time to time, he was content to mind his own business—if Ms. Frost wanted him to know, she would tell him.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Frank announced into the intercom, returning his focus to piloting, "we'll be descending shortly into Emerald Springs. Looks like there's good weather on the ground, mid-eighties. Make sure you're all fastened in for landing."
He listened to excited chatter along with buckling seatbelts and last-minute adjustments. Frank made a gentle turn into the normal descent pattern after a quick radio call to the air traffic control tower. The landing proved to be just as smooth as the flight, something he prided himself on—providing his passengers with the best flight possible, no matter the external factors.
He rolled to a stop at Gate 15, which was reserved specifically for the Frost aircraft. He next few minutes were nothing short of muscle memory as he flipped switches, turned dials, and pushed buttons to bring the plane to rest. As soon as he deactivated the fasten seatbelt indicator, the teens and their chaperones began bustling in the back once again.
Frank felt a firm hand on his shoulder—it was Sean Cassidy. "Ach, ah cannae have done such a fine landin' meself!" the Irishman patted him solidly then turned his attention to the students. "Make sure t' thank' Mr. Buchanan fer th' excellent flight as ye exit."
Frank was bombarded with various, sincere words of thanks as the students walked by. As he stood, Emma approached him.
"Superb as always. I already made arrangements at the Loews—you have the penthouse suite all to yourself. The concierge will provide the wi-fi access code. It's unlimited, so you can talk to your family anytime over the next few days while we are here. As usual, just use the Frost Enterprise Purchase Card for anything else. We should be on schedule to leave on Saturday after the conclusion of the conference."
"I'll have the plane ready, ma'am."
"Excellent," Emma concluded before disembarking the plane after everyone else.
Frank smiled to himself, highly appreciative of his job but still secretly wondering what exotic powers his employer and her entourage possessed behind their seemingly normal appearances. Maybe one day, he would know. Until then, he was content with simply wondering.
III.
It wasn't hard to spot the group from Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. The diverse group of five teenagers, trailed by the redheaded gentleman and regal woman dressed in all white, seemed to somehow exude the kind of positive flair and presence that was near legendary among the general populace.
Nolan Hargrove waved knowingly towards the group, advancing with a friendly smile. "Miss Emma Frost and Mister Sean Cassidy, a pleasure to finally meet the two of you." He extended his hand, and Sean grasped it firmly in a cordial handshake.
Emma, unlike her counterpart, kept her distance. "Regretfully, I haven't the slightest notion of who you are."
"Ah, my manners—Nolan Hargrove. Headmaster of the Academy of Tomorrow. I spoke to Nick Fury briefly…" Nolan trailed off, throwing a glance toward the teens slowly approaching. He thought twice about discussing the conversation in an open area and with younger teens nearby. Nolan wasn't sure what information they already had, no he figured it was best to wait until he had a chance to ascertain how much they actually knew. Changing the subject, he stated, "I have a shuttle that can take your students to the campus. My staff will help them get settled in. We can take a separate shuttle to discuss any matters of concern."
Emma narrowed her blue eyes suspiciously. "And can you guarantee the safety of students?"
Nolan continued to smile. "Of course, Ms. Frost. I wouldn't offer the service if it wasn't safe. And you don't have to worry about your bags. Another one of my staff members, Lee, will transport them to the school."
"Fair," Emma said after a nod of agreement from Sean. She turned to the teens, who were now gathered around, quietly chatting amongst themselves. "Everyone, we'll meet tomorrow morning before the various news hounds begin their prowl for comments and interviews. Let's try to stay out of trouble," her icy eyes flicked toward Jubilee.
In response, Jubilee crossed her arms and shifted her weight. "I'm like the last one ya have ta worry about, Frosty."
"That's for everyone. I just know you tend to be the ringleader."
"Whateves," Jubilee shrugged dismissively.
Nolan addressed the teens after motioning to another man standing to the side. "My driver, Addison Falk, will take you to the school." Turning to the auburn-haired man, Nolan added, "Cristal will be waiting at the front, and she'll get them checked in."
Addison nodded in compliance.
"Guess, we're like with ya, big guy," Jubilee smiled.
"I have the van waiting this way," he replied.
While the teens followed Addison, Emma and Sean followed Nolan in the opposite direction through the brightly illuminated airport. It wasn't until they were settled in a luxury van with tinted windows that the conversation stared again.
Nolan shifted in his seat as the van pulled from the airport passenger loading zone. "I'll be upfront with you—about a week ago, I received a threatening e-mail that alluded to a threat against the Conference, and it signed by The Brotherhood. The e-mail self-deleted before I could do anything with it. My computer techs weren't able to find any trace of the e-mail on the server."
"A terrorist group using modern technology to deliver threats," Emma concluded.
Sean inquired, "Have ye had any previous contact from them?"
"No. That's why I was alarmed. This is the fifth year that this conference has been hosted at my school, and we have never had something like this happen before."
Emma's unsympathetic expression didn't waiver. "Honestly," she said, "I'm surprised you weren't targeted sooner,"
Nolan shook his head in denial. "It wouldn't serve anyone any good, Ms. Frost. I established the Academy of Tomorrow as a place of unity and peace. Though I have a huge amount of respect for the Xavier Schools and the Avengers Academy, I personally do not believe that violence will achieve the core of what we're all striving for—peaceful coexistence. Anyone who would attack a peaceful institution and event would undoubtedly seem cowardly. It wouldn't do them any good."
Emma responded, "Charles learned long ago that there is a balance between peace and war. You cannot have or appreciate one without the other. We most certainly do not condone violence, Mr. Hargrove, but we aren't so naïve to think that others won't use it against us. To that end, we are more than willing to defend ourselves and those who cannot, or in this case, will not fight."
"I know, my vision probably sounds childish at best."
"Yes, it does. Especially considering you now have to rely on the "violent schools" to save your ass. Besides, you are nothing but a beacon to anyone who wants to stand against coexistence of any kind. You have a congregation of people from across the nation, to include the superhero elite. Of course you would be targeted by an extremist group eventually. And in most cases, they don't care that you're peaceful—in fact, it makes it easier for them to make their point."
"Aye, lass…" Sean warned.
"No. I deserve that. And I expected no less from you, Ms. Frost. It's hypocritical, but this school is important to me. So are my students. And so is my vision. I don't want any of that to be threatened."
Emma's browed furrowed slightly as she leaned forward just slightly. "Keep in mind, we are only doing this as a favor to Charles and Tony. I don't like that you would rather risk other people's, to include my student's, well-being to save yourself so you don't have to go against your principles. My students are going to be the eyes and ears on this one. They will do whatever is necessary to ensure everyone's safety. It will be easy for them, since the focus will be on the more prominent figures in attendance."
"I know it sounds lacking, but I appreciate this."
She relaxed in her seat, giving Nolan one last once-over. "Don't thank anyone until after the event is over, and no one is hurt. But I have a feeling that this will not go without incident."
IV.
The shuttle passed through the front gate of the Academy of Tomorrow, stopping only long enough for the stout guard to verify everyone's identity with his list of entrants. He bid them goodnight as he opened the iron gates and waved them through. Though on the school grounds, the curvaceous road remained dark and quiet, surrounded on either side by a dense forest.
"Geez...what a creepy road," Jubilee commented, wondering how much farther they had to go. The darkness of the passing forest seemed ominous, hiding something sinister in its depths. She averted her eyes away from the whizzing scenery, instead focusing on the back of Ethan's head.
"Yeah," the driver, Addison, mentioned as he guided the shuttle into yet another curve. "We have to watch out for deer and other animals up here. They usually bound right out from the trees."
"Really?" Rico asked, suddenly peering out of the window, searching for any sign of a wild, abounding forest animal. Having grown up in the city, he actually hadn't ever seen the forest creatures of storybook lore. Right now, he would have been content to catch a slight glimpse of a squirrel or something. To his disappointment, the shuttle cruised through several uphill curves with no sign of animal life. Disappointed, he sat back in his seat, his eyes now toward the front, watching the street rise in front of them.
"The school is right up ahead."
As the shuttle rounded one last rising curve, the six-story structure jumped out from the surrounding verdant scenery. Large paneled windows, brushed nickel pillars, and the dark stone exterior starkly contrasted the picturesque landscape. As they drew near, the modern design showcased clean lines and sharp angles, which blended traditional architecture and a more sophisticated, stylish flair.
The shuttle then pulled into a steep driveway, which took them to the Terrazzo level. Around them were the Air Gardens, a verdant display of trees accented with lit fountains. Benches and monuments were speckled across the wide-open courtyard, and unlike the road leading to the school, was well-lit.
"The Academy of Tomorrow—this place is beautiful," Rico marveled. "The brochure says it was originally built in 1958, but it looks brand new!"
Addison explained, "Well, it's a historical site as well, so the city pays for the upkeep of the place," the guide explained. "Originally, it was a high-ranking college for the elite. About twenty years ago, it was purchased by Nolan Hargrove, and he was the one who expanded the student body and curriculum. Of course, it stirred a lot of controversy, but eventually, the protests against it died down. Now, it is showcased as a premiere institution that embraces everyone equally."
"Sounds pretty cool," Jubilee responded, still marveling at the structure.
"And here we are," Addison announced as he pulled beside a woman with dark hair. "The young lady there, Cristal Lemieux, will take care of you all from here."
The teens offered words of thanks as they exited, ready to get settled in after their long trip.
V.
The room was spacious and warm, furnished with mahogany furniture, with earth-toned accents. The lighting was just right for relaxing as he unpacked his bags with a simple thought.
Telekinetically manipulating multiple items at one time had become much easier after training with Jean Grey-Summers. He managed to also hone the fine control of his ability through telekinetic disassembling and reassembling of a watch, the handling of a thin glass ball, and keeping a feather afloat. And now, he demonstrated his control, mainly for his own amusement as the clothes floated from the bags, drawers opened and filled with undergarments, shirts were placed on hangers, and pants were draped across the armchair in the corner.
The full sized beds with dark blue comforters were placed side by side with a small nightstand between them and two matching ones on either side. Two desks were opposite the beds, and a LED flat-screen television was on a stand between them. The armchair rested against the large window, and pale sheer drapes along with thick curtains were closed. With just a hand gesture, the curtains opened to reveal a great view of the Terrazzo from the sixth story room.
He stepped to the ground-to-ceiling, double paneled window and gazed over the scene below. There were several other teenagers traipsing about the area, as well as small group huddled together in conversations full of gestures and laughter. He watched for a few moments, resisting the urge to telepathically eavesdrop on their conversations.
But he stopped cold when he noticed the familiar swagger of a blonde strutting toward the dorm. Graylon Walsh, Michael identified, immediately feeling himself tense. It really wasn't a surprise that the ubiquitous junior reporter was in attendance. In fact, he already presumed their quasi-auxiliary teammate would insert himself into their investigation, which would only complicate things. Again.
The reporter was a local celebrity, continually writing articles and presenting newscasts that interested the masses. But he also had an agenda—his uncle, Dr. Niles Cain, had mysteriously disappeared from Snow Valley, so he decided to launch his own investigation. This caused him to cross paths with Generation X, whose new student body had connections to the doctor as well. Ultimately, they found Dr. Cain, but it surely wasn't going to be the last time they saw Graylon.
The investigation can start tomorrow, he thought as the curtains slid closed, courtesy of his telekinetic force. Fatigue had already settled in, and a wide yawn punctuated it. He glanced again at the empty bed, wondering when his roommate was going to arrive. Deciding to not wait up, he turned out the lights, slipped out of his clothes and into the bed. But he still mulled over Graylon's presence.
What is he looking for? What does he know? Does he want to work with us? Why doesn't he just join the school?
Michael turned onto his side, pushing the thoughts out of his mind. He relaxed then found himself drifting to sleep with a last thought, Everything will be fine as long as he doesn't get in our way.
VI.
"I'm not going to be in your way, Lee," Monet St. Croix assured as she filled the valet cabinet with her toiletries. She neatly placed various soaps and perfumes along the four shelves, lining them up with the acuteness of an engineer. She was nearly done unpacking when her teammate burst into the room ten minutes ago, somehow having gotten at the end of the check-in line. As Jubilee began to unpack, the complaining began, much to Monet's annoyance.
"Like it's too late fer that. You've totally got all yer high maintenance gear all over tha place. Where am I supposed ta put my stuff?"
Replying while still tending to the proper placement of another row of toiletries, Monet said, "I am absolutely sure there is an abundance of space for your commonplace apparel. I have already assessed the amount of space needed for my volume of clothing and yours. My belongings require 87.93 percent of the closet, of which I have maximized. Your clothing will only require 7.47 percent, leaving 4.6 percent of additional space."
Jubilee's scowled and her lips formed into a pout. "Can't you stop being so selfish for two seconds?"
Monet whisked around, her dark eyes flashing with anger. But she only glared at the girl momentarily before returning to the cabinet to finish her task.
Jubilee flopped on her bed. "Look, we shouldn't start this week off like fightin' an' stuff. I know we totally don't get along. Trust me, if I could like change roommates, I would. But we're here 'cause somethin' bad is supposed ta happen, an' a like rando roommate would blow our cover. So, at least until we get back to tha school, can we be decent to each other?"
Monet stopped organizing the items in the cabinet and turned with a withering glare. "Despite your claim, I am not being selfish nor am I being standoffish. I obviously travel with more necessities than you. My actions are logical and well-thought out, unlike your random outbursts."
"Fer real? Like yer really gonna act like that?!"
Impatiently, Monet crossed her arms, settling into a defensive scowl. "There is no ambiguity regarding my actions or reactions, Lee. If for some unforeseen reason you discovered you needed an extra iota of space, then you could simply inquire rather than immediately casting insults and throwing tantrums."
"Whatev, M. I'm good. Don't like worry about it," Jubilee resigned. "I'm headin' out fer a walk." The young girl snatched her trademark yellow trenchcoat from the back of the armchair and left without another glance, careful not to slam the door.
All this time, and I like still haven't figured her out. And she still totes pisses me off, Jubilee fumed while storming down the hallway and ignoring the curious glances from other students. They had been together as students at the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters for over a year, and by now, she presumed that they all should be getting along just fine. She reflected on her time as an X-Man, and she couldn't recall having petty, nonsensical arguments with any of them. But then again, they were all reasonable human beings. Surely, Monet was some kind of alien—maybe a Skull impostor…there was no way a girl her same age could be so difficult.
Then again, maybe Jubilee was being insensitive. Only a few weeks ago, they were embroiled in a complicated event that ultimately freed Monet's brother from Emplate, a parasitic demon. But the situation uncovered old wounds, like her mother's death and the issues within their own family. Luckily, they were victorious thanks to teaming with the X-Men. So, maybe Monet's attitude was still being affected by what happened—at least that's what Jubilee tried to rationalize.
Before she realized it, Jubilee was outside, walking the outer edge of the Terrazzo. The beauty of the illuminated Air Gardens caught her attention and eased her ire. The verdant foliage swayed gently in the cool breeze from the eastern mountains, while the soothing sound of the fountains calmed her foul disposition. She stopped at the edge of the park-like area, inhaled the crisp air, then exhaled loudly, her dark brown eyes panning the area.
"Stunning, isn't it? This whole place is really something," a voice sounded from behind her. She turned to her right as a young man stepped next to her, his eyes gazing over the same scene.
Messy, boyish bangs swayed in the wind, framing a firm jaw and complimentary features. Despite a content smile, grave consternation was set behind his expression, which matched his voice—a baritone of melancholy.
"Yeah, it is," she replied, taking her eyes off of the young man. There was only a moment of silence before she introduced herself. "I'm Jubilee," she offered her hand for a shake, but he kept his hands shoved deeply in the pockets of his long coat. Feeling a bit embarrassed, she chuckled uncomfortably and rubbed the back of her head. "I guess handshakes are like totally ol' fashioned these days."
"I'm Kevin Ford," he genuinely smiled. "And I'm not trying to be rude. It's my thing—if I touch anything organic, it disintegrates. It's something I can't control."
Jubilee saw a deep sadness brimming in his dark eyes, despite his friendly smile. Sympathizing, she said, "I've gotta friend kinda like that. Well, kinda...she like absorbs memories and powers when she touches someone. But she's tryin' ta control it. I think maybe she's like finally gettin' tha hang of it."
He looked away for a moment, hiding his expression. "I wish I could. Maybe I could live a normal life. Everything around me has to be synthetic...fake. I haven't touched anyone or anything since..." he trailed off and sighed heavily. His eyes were suddenly distant, as if he were reliving some fateful day that he had long tried to forget. Kevin pulled himself back into the present, forcing another smile that wasn't convincing. "I enrolled here at the Academy of Tomorrow. They accept people like me with dangerous mutations."
Jubilee felt the sadness in his voice. Several of her teammates over the years had dangerous, uncontrollable powers, but for the first time, she realized that she couldn't understand what it was like to not be normal. It was relatively easy for her, as she could control the exposure of her abilities. And her talent of creating fireworks never interfered with personal interaction—in no way was she confined by her powers.
She realized that mutants like Kevin could never truly have any semblance of a normal life. "I—I'm like sorry."
"For what? You don't have to apologize. Fate, nature, or the big guy upstairs made me like this. I'm this way for a reason. I don't understand it, but I don't let it get me down. It's hard, but being in a place like this—I don't know, it just kind of makes it a bit easier."
Jubilee couldn't help but to return his smile, impressed with his optimism. "So," she asked, "this is like a school for mutants?"
"I thought everyone had heard of this place. It's not just for mutants—we have normal people and mutants alike. Coexistence. And acceptance. That's what we're all looking for, right?"
Jubilee shrugged. "Ya know, it seems like so far away though. Because there's like baddies out there who use their powers ta totally dominate peeps without powers. Those are tha guys who like make it hard ta like get along with everyone. Ya kinda need someone in the middle who can protect tha folks who can't protect themselves, ya know?"
"Spoken like a true superhero."
Jubilee laughed. "Nah. I jus' like...I don't know. I jus' wanna help folks. I think I'd be happy with coexistence an' acceptance. But it's like tha harder we work for it, the farther it totally gets."
"You're from Xavier's, aren't you?"
Jubilee narrowed her eyes suspiciously.
Catching the shift in her demeanor, Kevin quickly added, "Don't worry. I mean," he nervously paused, then gave a sheepish laugh, "I admire you guys. But not just me...a lot of us do. You're brave, and you do things that some of us only dream about. I have to be honest—you guys are kind of legendary around here."
Jubilee's stance softened a little. "Meh. It's okay. I mean, this place seems like normal. Like, you can go to school without worrying about aliens landing on the front yard or like demon portals ta hell totally openin' in the middle of tha living room. Trust me, that part kind of blows. And you don't have ta deal with totally snobby roommates."
Kevin's mouth opened in surprise when Jubilee didn't show any signs of joking. "For real? Like you guys really see aliens and portals?"
"Like totes. It's nowhere near as cool as it sounds. Not ta mention that they're all totally trying to either take over the world or kill everyone on it. Completely over it," Jubilee waved her hand dismissively.
His surprise turned into a grin of awe as his dark eyes sparkled. "I think it's amazing. That's like the stuff that action movies are made of."
"We just want a simple life to, Kev. Every now an' then, when we get to jus' sit around, laugh, an' talk, it reminds me of life before this…" she flicked her wrist towards the sky and a small spherical prism of light shot up. It burst several feet above them, with a small, but audible paf.
"Fireworks?!" Kevin said. His grin was even wider.
"Yeah. They can be a cool light show, but I'm learnin' how to focus 'em inta streams of light."
"That has got to be one of the most awesome powers I've seen!"
Jubilee laughed. "Well, you'll really be impressed when ya meet M. She's got like fifty-thousand powers. And I swear, bein' a jerk is tha main one."
It was Kevin's turn to laugh. "Sounds like you're frustrated with her."
Jubilee shifted her weight and sighed pensively. "Kinda. She's just like so perfect. And snooty about it too. She's like never wrong, an' she's always actin' so superior. It totally rubs me the wrong way."
"Well, is she?"
"Hardly," Jubilee paused. "Well, kinda. I mean, like I guess she is. Mostly. Okay, like nearly all tha time. But still…"
Kevin simply replied, "Then you shouldn't worry about it. You can't change her. But you can change how you react to her. Maybe you're, I don't know, reacting in a way that's causing conflict."
At first, Jubilee's annoyance quickly peaked at the thought that she was to blame for Monet being a jerk. No matter the circumstance, it seemed Monet always had to reply with a condescending tone or some lofty comment that only served as a self-compliment and degradation of her supposed target of the moment. Surely, the conflict wasn't Jubilee's fault—she was only responding to Monet's attitude.
But maybe that's his point, she pondered. She started to reply, but stopped short, rethinking her next words.
He paused, then suddenly averted his eyes. "Sorry," he lowered his voice, "I sometimes just jump into things feet first. My mouth doesn't keep up with my head. I hope you're not mad—"
"Actually, I was like for a total hot minute there, Kev. I hate ta say it, but ya may be totally right about that. I mean, she's like always the way she is. But I don't always have ta like snap back at her."
Kevin's dark eyes flashed with enthusiasm, and he smiled yet again. "See, that's perfect! That's the exact point I was making!"
"Like fer reals, I appreciate it. I think I just like needed to hear it from someone other than like my teammates or teachers. Listen, I've gotta head back inside, but maybe I'll catch ya at one of the forums."
"Yeah. That would be cool. Maybe I can meet some of the other junior X-Men!"
"Junior?" Jubilee playfully scoffed. "We're tha like real deal, homeboy! Don't forget it!" she winked before waving and taking quick strides back to her dorm.
Jubilee smiled to herself as she navigated the hallways, glad that she met Kevin. She thought more about his advice and decided that she was apply it as best she could. She was always seen as the immature one—maybe it was time to shed that persona.
Slipping into the room quietly, she found a dim light still on next to her bed. She stole a glance at the closet to find that Monet had left almost half of it empty. She glanced toward the other bed, but Monet was tuned away, unmoving, seemingly sleep.
Maybe she's not so bad, Jubilee wistfully thought. She smiled and mouthed thanks to Monet before getting herself ready for bed. We'll be fine—this will all be okay in the morning.
Notes:
X-Men, Generation X, and all characters related to Marvel belong to them. Any other characters are fictional.
