Disclaimer: I don't own Sky High.
Mrs. Powers finally led Ivy into what, at first, appeared to be an empty classroom. Upon further entrance, however, Ivy noticed someone standing in the back of the room. He was looking out the window, with his arms behind his back, as if pondering some deep mystery of the universe.
"Rob," said Mrs. Powers.
The man turned around suddenly, surprised.
"Joanne!" He said cheerfully. "I wasn't expecting to see you so soon. You must be Ivy."
Ivy gave him a smile. He was fairly young, with gorgeous brown curls. The shirt he was wearing seemed a bit loose around his thin frame.
"Hi," she responded quietly.
"It's nice to meet you," he said, walking over to her. He put out a hand to shake. She took it politely. "I'm Mr. McCabe, I'll be working with you to try and gain some control over your powers."
Ivy felt her heart skip a beat.
"I'm sure you'll do well," Mrs. Powers said to Ivy. She looked back at Mr. McCabe. "See you later, Rob. Let me know how it goes."
"Sure, Joanne," said Mr. McCabe. He looked back at Ivy before continuing. "Alright, if you'll just follow me back here, we can get started."
Ivy suddenly became very aware of her breathing as she followed Mr. McCabe to the back of the classroom. They were short, quick breaths. Her palms were sweating again. Mr. McCabe seemed to notice her uneasiness and ushered for her to sit down in one of the nearby chairs. She obliged, thankful.
"Ivy, It's alright," he said reassuringly. "You'll be okay."
She nodded, not sure of what to say. She was worried about what was going to happen to her—to him. She looked at Mr. McCabe intently.
He looked like he was in his early thirties. His eyes were hazel, and very kind. Small crows' feet surrounded them. Though not classically handsome, Mr. McCabe did hold some kind of strange attraction—at least to Ivy. He had nice cheekbones, and strong eyebrows. And that hair…
Ivy blinked. She noticed her breathing was back to normal. Mr. McCabe was still smiling expectantly at her.
"Shall we get started?" he asked tenderly.
Ivy nodded.
Mr. McCabe had Ivy perform a series of routine motions. He asked to her close her eyes, to relax all of her muscles and to control her breathing. Every now and then he asked her questions and she provided him with answers. And though she tried her best to avoid thinking about it, Ivy's mind wandered to the handsome boy on the ledge. She couldn't stop thinking about that wonderful heat he'd given off. She let the warmth consume her once more…
After a little while, Ivy began to feel strange: like she had finally made peace with some inner evil. She didn't even realize how much time had passed until Mr. McCabe jolted her from her thoughts.
"Well, we should wrap this up," he said.
"Already?" Ivy asked, opening her eyes; the peaceful feeling dissipated almost immediately. She frowned. "We… we didn't really do anything."
He chuckled.
"Relax, Ivy. I'm not going to ask you to use your powers today. First you need to learn how your muscles work: control your breathing, find your center, things of that nature. If you don't have control over those things, you certainly can't expect to have any control over your powers." Ivy blushed. He continued, "In fact, I'm going to assign you some homework."
She furrowed her brow, perplexed. He grinned, and took out a small piece of paper from his pocket.
"Here," he said, handing it to her.
She studied its writing for a moment before looking back up at him.
"It's an address," he said, answering her unspoken question. "That's a yoga studio. I want you to attend classes there; at least two a week, to help you learn control. Don't worry about costs, the school has offered to pay for everything—so long as you attend classes regularly. If not, you'll be withdrawn from the class. Clear?"
Ivy nodded and offered him a sincere smile. He returned the favor.
"It was nice working with you today, Ivy," he said as he led her to the door. "I hope we can make some great progress."
"Thank you. Nice meeting you," she said quietly.
Ivy shuffled out of the classroom just as the bell rang. Swarms of other students began to flood the hallways. Ivy gave one last look toward the door, but Mr. McCabe had already gone. Ivy soon became swallowed up in the crowd, and she reluctantly made her way to her next class.