Author's note: Second chapter already! I changed the title, I'm just trying to keep it high on the lists. No reviews yet, but it's only been up since this afternoon, and this section updates quite slowly, so oh, well! Please review, I've been missing reviews lately since I've been a slow updater with my other stories! Disclaimer: Same as first chapter! :)

Anya hated when her mom was in a bad mood; most people got a little tense when they were around someone depressed, but for her it was like a cloud hanging over her mind. And she felt guilty, because she was the cause of the gloom.

"Baby, I'm going to miss you so much!" her mom said tearily a few times each day, inevitably following this statement with a watery hug. Anya was used to knowing what to say, but she came up empty-handed in this situation. The truth was, her mom was going to be living alone once she left for college in three weeks. Anya was an only child, and her dad had left before she was even born. None of her mom's family lived nearby, and while she had friends, of course, it wouldn't be the same. So Anya's excitement at being on her own at last was dampened, and her last few weeks at home were overshadowed by her mom's worry, even though she gallantly tried to cover it up (since she didn't know that such efforts would be in vain, anyway).

It was a Friday after school, and Anya was planning on going to a movie with a few of her friends later on. But at the moment, she was having a snack, casually perched on the counter, watching Oprah on the little TV in the kitchen. It was an episode about overweight people, a subject that always interested and alarmed her since she still had a little stubborn baby fat at age eighteen. This was the reason she was chomping on celery instead of the cookies her naturally thin mother had made that afternoon.

"Annie? You need to pack some more later, OK? You don't want to have to rush, you'll forget stuff."

"OK, Mom!" Her mother's voice was casual, but Anya sensed the tension she had just bringing up the subject of her coming departure.

"You're going out later, right?" Her mom wandered into the kitchen.

"Yep. Movies."

"Who with?"

"The usual."

"No special guy?"

"Nooo, Mom," Anya sighed.

"Are you still not over that Jason guy?"

"I've been over HIM forever, but the whole high school dating thing has just been so stupid..."

"That's a very mature decision," her mom beamed.

"Yeah, I guess so." It wasn't a hard choice, actually; Anya's former boyfriend Jason was considered quite a catch, but as she'd spent more time around him, his herd mentality had begun to wear on her. Almost everything he did for her seemed to be motivated by appearances, just following the girlfriend-boyfriend routine, and while she was something of a slave to public opinion, too, it would have been nice to have a guy who specifically liked HER. She'd ended it with the "It's not you, it's me speech"-- even though it was totally him. But to be fair, any girl who hadn't had such a closeup view of his thought processes probably would have become disillusioned much more slowly.

Her extra knowledge had really put a cramp in her love life; thanks to her insights, she could get the interest of a lot of guys. But after she spent more than a little time with them, she usually found something in their head that bugged her: extreme insecurity, a big ego, plain old pervishness. She really didn't appreciate her powers then-- the honeymoon ended for her, so to speak, much more quickly than it did for everyone else.

Oprah ended, and Anya hopped off the counter and went upstairs to get ready. Her friends would be coming in half an hour or so, and she always took a long time on her hair; it was a nice light golden color, but fell in big, frizzy curls; she kept it cut just to her chin, but it was still a force to be reckoned with. It was always sticking up, flying all over the place, standing out like a crazy halo. She kind of admired its spirit, actually, but sometimes it was a bit overwhelming, and it kind of made her look slightly insane, which she didn't enjoy.

She walked into her room and was startled by its bareness; she'd already taken down the posters she wanted to take with her and packed up the pictures that had been on her shelves. It was weird seeing her room that way. She kind of wished she could just leave everything like it was until the last minute and then just pack it up quick, before she had time to think about it all. But her mom was right, she'd forget things that way. She hummed absently to herself as she put water on her hair and tried to drag a brush through it. She turned on the radio as she waged her daily battle against her curls, and a news report blared out.

"More mutant protests occur in Washington. Citizens are still concerned about the growing numbers and increasing power of mutants, who are daily staging more protests themselves, demanding more representation and protection in society..."

Anya was always a little freaked out by the word "mutant." She had a hard time remembering that, in the eyes of the world, it applied to her. It sounded scary; it was a word that provoked fear, or discomfort, in the heart of the general public. She was a minority, an exception, a curiosity-- at least she would be, if anyone ever found out. She was glad that she had a normal life, actually a BETTER than normal life, but sometimes, when she heard all the controversy going on, she felt a little cowardly, a little weary of keeping her secret, a little bit like she was staying out of a fight that involved her personally. But if she got involved, who knew what would happen? People would be scared of her, her advantage would be gone, she wouldn't have control over her image anymore... she couldn't even think about that. No one would ever find her out. She wasn't like those freaks-- no way. She shook the thoughts out of her head and ran downstairs to wait for her friends. No need to even worry. None at all.