Note: Okay, I'd just like to mention I've been planning this little development since long before the latest comic-book movie came out. What's the betting all future DD comics have Bullseye with a severe Irish accent, though?
Girl 1.
Did I mention that my life's been weird lately?
Imagine you've just moved clear across the country to start at a new school where you don't really know anybody. Now imagine that you haven't been to school in nearly four years. Then throw in that you've spent those four years doing drugs and turning tricks. And, just as a bonus, imagine everyone else in the school has super powers, and some of them really don't like humans.
The first day, Angelo shadowed me throughout. I realised my life was irredeemably weird when I noticed that the guy with loose grey skin and eyes that turned red at odd moments was the most normal thing I could think of. Nobody tried anything that day, which is what led to me saying that I wouldn't mind going back there. I mean, the place might be full of complete strangers with super powers, but Mr Summers and Dr Beast and Angelo were there, and they seemed okay, and Wolverine and Emma might not be particularly nice people, but they acted like they cared.
Emma did not approve of my saying yes to Mr Summers' offer. She said that place was a long way from providing any kind of stability. But she also said she'd respect my wishes. And if I ever felt like backing down I should just tell her, and she'd have me into a private school with experienced counsellors within twenty-four hours.
The fuck I'm gonna back down.
Angelo agrees with me on this. He told me he went to 'Mutant High' when it was three middle-class kids, a millionaire's stuck-up daughter, a social-climbing hick, and him, and he only really stuck it out to show that a guy with comparatively lame powers and a background about as bad as mine was at least as good as them. Not being a mutant just gives me one more thing to prove.
Mr Summers wants me there, and he agrees with Angelo on the last point. He reckons my presence will help show the more prejudiced kids that humans and mutants are equal. It doesn't seem to have occurred to him that someone like me may have the opposite effect.
It's kinda flattering to think he believes in me that much. Although maybe really he just believes in Blue Eyes that much.
And Wolverine says that if anyone gives me any trouble I should just tell him, and he'll rip them a new hole. Mr Summers gave him a look, and he added that he meant verbally.
Then Mr Summers took me aside, and told me to tell him first. And to tell him, not assume it was my own problem to sort out.
Then he told me that the other kids spent an hour a day working on controlling their powers. And he reckoned I could use that time as well. I asked, what for? He said, the faculty had a lot of useful skills between them. And some of those would put me on an equal footing with most of the people with super powers.
I can see it now. Jubilation Lee, Kung Fu Master.
Girl 2.
I don't believe this. I'm working in a law office. In a month I start at NYU, and I'm probably gonna major in law. I'm still not sure if I want to be doing this.
Matt says that's what this month is for. He and Foggy are gonna show me as much of their work as we can fit in the time. In return, I've got to turn up on time daily, do what I'm asked to do as well as I can, and not hesitate to ask stupid questions.
You see what I'm saying? He added, and then smiled.
I asked how he knew Cece. He said if she hadn't told me, it was none of my business. He smiled as he said it, though.
You can't win a staring contest with a blind guy. That's one of many things him and Scott have in common.
I think I'm gonna like working here. Cece told me they were cool with mutants; I thought that would mean the usual 'some of my best friends are mutant. So, because you're both the same species you obviously know exactly why Magneto did this, right?' self-conscious liberalism I've met a few times – people who work at being cool with mutants while still thinking of them as a separate class.
Matt and Foggy, though, don't seem to think being a mutant means anything. I told them on the first day, just to get it out of the way, and Matt said,
'Yeah, Dr Reyes mentioned you were. Is that going to be a problem?'
'I don't know.' I said. 'Is it going to be a problem?' And he was actually confused. He didn't see how it might be.
Then Foggy got it, and just said, 'No.'
And that's the last they've said about it.
Matt and Foggy are kinda weird together. They've got this vibe. I've seen it before; Bobby and Hank have it, and Scott and Jean, and not many others I've seen. It's like they've known each other so long, they know each other so well, that they've already said everything that needs saying and don't really need to talk any more. So when they do talk, there's nothing they can't say to each other.
Something else that's weird. Matt's always in the office before anyone else, every morning. He says it's so he can read everything through and listen to the tapes of recent rulings he gets sent, but one time when I got there I passed a woman in the lobby, on her way out, and I'd swear to God it was the Black Widow. She didn't seem to recognise me, but then, it's been three years and I've changed my look a lot since the last time we met.
I'll have to ask Matt about it. As soon as I think of a reason why I'd recognise her.
Girl 1.
The first day was okay. The second day – it's kind of like the second day of cold turkey. In that they're both fucking awful.
It starts okay. My first class is Math with Mr Summers, who does make me stand up and introduce myself, but also makes everyone else in the room do the same. I remember about three names, and nobody speaks to me. I can take that.
After that I have to go to the bathroom. I walk out of the cubicle, and find myself face to face with five identical blondes. None of who look happy to see me.
They're standing in a line in front of the mirror, and look kind of like they were gossiping, except none of them were talking at all. And when I step out they all turn to look at me.
I'm not wearing makeup; the only face I know is waterproof lip-gloss and fuck-me eye shadow. And I'm wearing jeans and a baggy sweatshirt; Emma had said I was overcompensating when she took me shopping, but hey, New York's a lot colder than California. So I just wash my hands, and hope like hell that they don't think I look like a hooker.
'Why would we think that?' One of them asks, making me jump.
'Think what?' I ask, once I get my heartbeat under control.
'That you look like a hooker.' I don't think it's the same one.
Because I used to be one, I don't say.
'Because, uh . . .' They interrupt before I can think of a good excuse.
'You used to . . .' One of them begins, before another – and I think this is the one that first spoke – interrupts with 'How old are you?'
'Sixteen. What's it to you, girlfriend?' I ask, but I've already got a bad feeling about this.
'And you used to be a prostitute?' Says one of them.
What the fuck am I supposed to say to that?
The five of them walk out in step. Any other school, that'd look mundo weird.
And by lunch everyone in the school knows I used to earn a living on a street corner.