For future reference, Lizie is Elizabeth Braddock- otherwise known as Psylocke. And Kitty is Kitty Pryde, or Shadowcat.

………

When her alarm went off at five, she groaned and hit the snooze button. She wasn't all that tired, but it was just one of those mornings where you don't want to get out of bed. Her dream stirred in the back of her mind and she fought to remember it. The only thing she could recall was an uncanny chill that spread throughout her bones. The alarm went off again ten minutes later, and she rolled out of bed.

"All right, all right." This time while taking a shower, she turned the radio to oldies. Her singing hadn't improved much from the morning before, but at least it was easier to sing to oldies than to country. She quickly dressed, peeking out of her window to see how warm it might be today. I suppose you could call Ange a prep. She wore clothes that she liked, that she felt comfortable in, but often those were hooded sweaters, cords, jeans, a few collared (but not polo) shirts, and tank tops. She absolutely loved flip flops- closest thing to not wearing shoes at all.

She shuffled down the hall way, not quite awake. She could hear a few other alarms go off and heard a few dresser draws open and shut.

Storm was in the kitchen trying to throw together some omelets for breakfast. She got up late and was running behind, trying to coordinate the omelets, toast, and getting cereal bowls set out.

"Miss Storm, I don't feel well." Lizie strolled into the kitchen, her face as pale as her nightgown.

"Come here, let me see if you have a fever." Ange took Lizie into the TV room.

"Hmmm, you might have a slight fever. How don't you feel well?"

"My stomach. I have a really bad headache, and I think I might puke."

"Lizie's been sick lately. It was going around the school last week. Lizie has a bad immune system- she gets sick easily." Storm said, continuing to flip the omelets. They smelt good! The sizzling cheese and bacon bits! A little bit of onion and garlic.

"Well, go back to bed and I'll bring up some soup and crackers. Do you want some ginger ale?"

"No thanks. Water is fine."

"Ok. We'll check you're temperature when I come up."

Lizie nodded and sluggishly drug herself back up to her room.

"Thanks for helping out." Storm said, stirring the omelets.

"No problem. That's what I'm here for."

"The soup is in the cabinets above the fridge. Here, here's a bowl. Do you know where the laundry room is?"

Ange shook her head.

"It's on the second floor. It's the door to the right of the towel closet. Go inside, and you'll find a medicine cabinet; inside is the first aid kit. There should be a thermometer in there. Lizie's room is 103."

Wolverine passed Ange with her tray of goodies for Lizie on his way into the kitchen. He turned and watched her turn the corner in the hall and then turned to Storm. "She's a regular Nanny." His tone was sarcastic and caustic. Storm laughed at his facial expressions, quickly suppressing it- the children were starting to come down for breakfast.

Ange took a tray upstairs with some crackers, soup, and water. She knocked on the door softly and went in. "I'll set this on your desk and you can eat it whenever you want. Let me go get the thermometer."

Ange returned with the whole first aid kit; she figured it would be easier to sift through the kit when sitting down. "Here we go. Ok, hold this under your tongue for five minutes." ... "Hmmm, a real slight fever: 99.9. Just relax and lay in bed. If you need anything, you know where to find me. If I'm in art class don't hesitate to come and grab me, ok?"

"Thanks." Lizie said. She pulled the covers over her and Ange shut the curtains.

Ange could hear the loud chattering of the children and the clattering of spoons in the cereal bowls and forks against their plates from down the hall. Kids were bustling in and out of the kitchen, grabbing their breakfast plates, drinks, and putting away their empty dishes. She found Rogue helping to herd the kids around; help them get what the needed and direct them out of the kitchen when they were done. Storm must have left to get ready for class. Rogue yelled that there was 5 more minutes until the bell rang. The last minute sleepy heads dashed into the kitchen and grabbed some fruit on their way outside- their first class was gym.

…………..

"Settle down. Please find the sketchbook with your name on it; that's where your new seat." She waited for them to find their seats and get settled down; she waited for their moaning and groaning about the new seat arrangements to quiet before she continued.

"Ok, first, your sketchbooks will be due every Friday- first one is due tomorrow. It's not a large assignment- all I want you to do is sketch, or write, make notes of things that inspire you. But please, don't just put something down to get a grade. If a really cool idea comes to you, sketch it- or make notes on it. If you get inspiration to write a poem, write it in your sketchbook. Now, from time to time I will have some more specific things for you to do in your sketchbooks as well.

Today we're going to start off with a simple still life. I'm not a big fan of still lifes, so we won't spend a lot of time on them. But they do help you to notice proportions and shading, positions and perspective." She walked over to a table she had set up. "This is our still life piece. DO NOT TOUCH IT. I would like you to include most of the scene in your still lifes. Paper is on this table. Your still lifes are due Monday. You can move up to one of these stools if you would like." She sighed, trying to think if there was anything else; it seemed like she was forgetting something, but she couldn't remember it. "All right, the time is yours!"

She moved over to her easel, facing perpendicular to the still life set up and began to sketch the still life too. She paused for a moment and looked over the class- which triggered something. "Oh, it seems that a few more students might be joining us. If that is the case, will we be splitting this class up. We'll split it up according to age." The class seemed to barely notice her last statement, so she returned to her sketch and the rest of the class started sketching and whispering. The whispers grew louder, but she didn't mind.

"Anyone here have anything against some oldies?" A few kids groaned, but most shook their heads. "Good." She turned on the radio and continued to work on her sketch.

From time to time she would over hear the latest gossip about boyfriends and girlfriends, quarrels, arguments, and break-ups; who liked who and who hated who.

…….

"It's time to clean up." She announced. "I have a shelf in the back. There are enough cubbies for you each to have one. Take some masking tape and write your name on it and put it below the cubby you want. You can keep your sketchbook there if you like, and that is where I would like for you to keep your still life sketches each day until their done."

The kids got up and claimed their cubbies. They grabbed their bags, and the bell rang. They rushed out the door, resembling a herd of buffalo or cattle. She sat down, relieved. Second day seemed to go well, though she had hoped for more conversation with the kids, which no one else seemed interested in. Ange spent most of the rest of the day hanging each of the drawings they had turned into her the day before, on the bulletin board. She finished up her still life, and left it out for the students to refer to. She would start on another idea tomorrow- an idea she had only briefly sketched in her own sketchbook. She sat down, analyzing her idea, thinking of ways to expand on it, better it, complete it. Her mind wandered and she wound up thinking about the kids at her old job and the kids here- and that's when she remembered that Lizie was still up stairs, sick. She put down her sketchbook and left for Lizie's room. She was experiencing artists' block as it was.

She softly knocked on the door, but Lizie didn't answer. She opened the door slowly to find Lizie fast asleep. She replaced a few of the covers that had fallen off of Lizie and moved over to her desk. She had eaten most of the soup and only crumbs were left where whole crackers had once been. Her water was gone as well. She grabbed the tray and lightly shut the door behind her as she left.

Ange was in the kitchen washing the bowl and tray when Nightcrawler walked in calmly. "I heard little Lizie is sick. How is she doing?"

"Ok, considering. She's fast asleep right now. Good news is that she ate her soup and crackers. I think she's getting better, but only time will tell."

Nightcrawler nodded. Ange dried off the tray and put some more crackers and soup on it, and a full glass of water. "I'm going to take this up to her, but I'll be right back."

"Ok."

Ange set the tray down on Lizie's desk. She placed the back of her hand on Lizie's forehead- she couldn't tell if her fever had gone down any or not- she had such a slight fever it was hard to tell.

"She might have a slight fever," she said as she walked back into the kitchen.

"I hope she gets well soon."

"Same here. Apparently it was going around last week."

"Yes. Several of the younger ones had it."

…………

The first official day of class was slow, and the days after would pretty much follow suit. Things would pick up slightly- as they were gaining eight more students. The Professor decided to split the class, 20/20. She would now have a second hour art class and a fourth hour art class. The younger kids had their class earlier in the day and the older kids had their class later in the day. She would read the newspaper in her free time, sketch- whatever she could; plants, some of the kids at the school, angels- heh, she even started a sketch of Nightcrawler. His appearance, yet his devotion to Catholicism intrigued her greatly. His tattoos, dark skin, and "devil's tail" was such an interesting combination. She drew her own versions of Storm, Cyclops, Rogue, and the Professor and what she thought it would look like for them to use their powers. She had ALWAYS been fascinated by mutants. In her free time she would also write in her diary. She wrote about events, feelings, observations, beliefs, poems, and dreams:

"... Thursday ...

I'm not sure what to think about the X-men. The Professor and Nightcrawler, whose real name is Curt, they're really nice. Storm, I dunno. She seems to want to like me, but still a bit apprehensive around me at the same time. And I understand. Cyclops- hmmm. Well, hahaha, he's a bit obsessive with his cars. And I think he's not sure what to think of a new girl member to the team, (well kinda to the team), since he lost his fiance only a few months ago. But at least he seems to be more comfortable with my arrival then Wolverine. Wolverine rarely says anything to me- definitely on purpose. Rogue said he's being territorial- feels I'm replacing Jean, or trying to. Still, he certainly doesn't go out of his way to be polite. Oh I just don't know. I can understand why- maybe- a little bit. He lost someone close, and oh, while I know how much that has to hurt, I just don't understand why he has to push the blame off onto me! I mean, I just. … oh forget it.

One of my art students is incredibly talented, though he is kinda a goof-off, along with a few of his friends who are also in my class. He's a good kid. Hahaha, I think I say that about all of them. Ohhhhh, there's the cutest little girl here. They call her Nightmare because she can control dreams and she often purposely gives the other kids nightmares. She's only about 5. She's really adorable. Reminds me of myself; she's incredibly picky and stubborn. And I really like all of the kids- though I only have 32- well, 40 kids in my art class. Tomorrow we're going to split the class up into two classes of 20 students.

Oh, I had the neatest idea for a picture depicting emotions- like a struggle of emotions. Only, I can't figure out how to- how to really get it to turn out the way I want to. I have this great array of ideas, half pictures in my head- but it's really hard to transfer to paper. I've tried a few times in some simple sketches- they haven't turned out like I'd like them too. But, I have a lot of free time with only two classes and not a lot of homework, so I'll have time to play around with some ideas.

..."