Chapter Five: Who Controls the Flame

Meanwhile, at the Institute, another young mutant was having her own problems.

"Nickayla?" Nickayla Romerez awoke, startled by the sharp tap on her right shoulder. She had fallen asleep at her desk again, and now the other students were laughing at her. *Why wouldn't she just let me sleep?* She asked herself.

"Nickayla, please see me after class." Her teacher, Ms. Grey instructed.

Nickayla was the new kid and just wanted to fit in. It was hard! She entered the school halfway through the trimester and so far had lost more sleep than she had brain-cells! Her appearance didn't help much either. You could tell by looking at her she was Asian, she had brown eyes, but her naturally red hair made her look out of place. It was these odd features, when put together, that made her look inhumanly adorable.

"Nickayla, You really need to get some more sleep," Jean Grey told her. "I can't keep letting you sleep in my class! It isn't fair to the others."

"You make it sound like I asked to come here!" Nickayla shouted, storming out of the room.

To her teachers she was Nickayla, an overly tired, yet normal student. To her friends she was Firefly. She had an unnatural talent when it came to fire. She could set anything ablaze by pure thought.

Naturally, upon arriving at the Xavier Institute a month ago, she bonded instantly with pyrotic, John Allardyce. She created the flame, he controlled it until she decided she was bored and willed it away, that was how they worked.

Later, in the dining hall, Nickayla reamed into John.

She wasn't scared of him like most people and if it were up to her, John wouldn't come into contact with fire again. She could destroy the fire before John even realized it existed.

Wouldn't you know it? This eight-year-old little girl had big, bad, seventeen-year-old Pyro wrapped around her little finger.

"Pyro?" she screamed at him. "What kind of stupid, juvenile name is that?"

"Oh yeah," Pyro scoffed. " 'Firefly is soooo much more mature!"

"Well, I thought it was cute!" A tiny ball of fire appeared in her right hand. "Oh no you don't." She said, making it disappear as John tried to take control of it.

"Come on! What did I do this time?" John was so tired of her little temper-tantrums.

"I think you should change your name-"

"NO!" John cut her off.

Firefly glared daggers, a thousand times sharper than Logan's claws, at him. John swallowed. There was no way this little brat was gonna tell *him* what to do. And yet, she always did.

"As I was saying," she growled, "I think you should change your name to something more along the lines of, oh, let's say Ashes?"

"I was thinking something more along the lines of, oh, let's say 'no'" He mocked.

"You're so conceited!" She yelled slamming the dining hall door as she left. John didn't worry, he never did, and she'd be back in five minutes with a better attitude.

* * * * * * * * * *

The other students watched, holding back laughter, at the trail of flames that followed Nickayla to her room; where her pillow burst into flames as she screamed into it.