THIS CHAPTER HAS BEEN EDITED!

My eyes flutter open, adjusting to the light in my room, and remember the night immediately. It was relatively quiet after that little encounter with Jason Stark.

I roll out of bed and get ready for school. I hate school, everything's messed up there. No one actually gets any sort of education, we just sit and "be disciplined" which is a total waste of my day, but my parents swanted me too, so I will.

My clothes for school consist of dressing in a t-shirt, jeans and my boots. There's a uniform, but no one gives a care, we'll be chastised whether or not we wear uniform. I throw on my jacket and scarf and grab a little pack of trail mix for later.

I toss my bag out the window and follow it noiselessly. I sling my bag over my shoulder and start walking towards the school, a thin blanket of snow crunching under my feet.

The old-fashioned architecture of the school dominates the street, its tall and looming, making all the other buildings shrink and cower.

I barely notice it anymore.

I walk a bit slower, taking in the quiet street. A few other students are hanging out in the coffee shop, and few more behind a dumpster. I just continue on, nothing's out of place.

Except a sleek, luxurious, expensive-looking black car pulled over on the curb directly in front of the school.

I continue to the school, acting ignorant and nonchalant about the car as I swing open the front doors and go to sit in the auditorium as I always do before the bell rings for first period.

I set my bag down and stare at the cover of my textbook, keeping my ears open for gossip about the wealthy visitor.

No ones talking about it, apparently they've heard no rumors.

I continue to stare at my textbook as the auditorium fills up, but no one sits next to me. People here don't like me much.

I start daydreaming and am pretty out of it until someone sits down next to me.

My head immediately whips up to look at who's stupid (or simply oblivious) enough to sit next to me.

Jason Stark.

Since when does he go here?

I almost freak before realizing - he doesn't know that I'm Mist.

I catch a sigh of relief in my throat.

He gives a distracted half-smile. "Uh, hi. I'm Jason. I'm new."

I raise an eyebrow and reply "One look at you and even an idiot could tell you're new here, no offense"

He reddens but keeps quiet.

Jason suddenly stops studying the floor and says, "I like you're boots, I know a girl with ones just like those."

I force a smile "Thanks." Then I consist of pretending he's not there.

He looks awkwardly everywhere but me.

Or he was until he says, "Hey, could you help me out with my schedule? I don't even know where my first period is."

I nod, "Sure, but after that have your teacher help you out, ok?"

He hands me the sheet of paper and I skim it quickly. How the heck is he in advanced technology and workshop? That class currently has five students in it! You had to go to nationals for your invention in order to get into that class….oh yeah. His dad's Tony Stark. Ugh. And everyone in that class has the same schedule because of that class.

I sigh, annoyed. "We have the exact same schedule."

"You're in Advanced tech?"

"Don't sound so surprised, not all smarts come out of money." I say sounding tired and weary.

He raises an eyebrow at the callous remark and chokes down a retort and just glares at me.

"What's your problem?" He asks sharply.

"You'll get pummeled here, won't last a day without protection. And you're completely ignorant of it. You don't have a place here."

"You speaking from experience?" He says, eyebrows still arched.

"I don't talk about things I know nothing of." I say annoyed.

The bell rings. We stand simultaneously, much to the annoyance of each other and head to class.

Mr. Z is the single strangest teacher on the face of the earth. For example, no one know what "Z" stands for, I think even Z himself may have forgotten.

He was my favorite teacher until today.

His firm voice rings out over all fivesix students in the large classroom.

"Mister Jason Stark is new to this school as of today. Would anyone like to show him around for today?"

His eyebrow rises from under his spectacles (he refuses to call them glasses) at us, "No takers?"

No one moves. In this class, everyone is fiercely independent, extras slow us down. Or at least, that's what we tell ourselves.

Jason Stark's standing at the front of the class and is beginning to fidget.

We're ignoring him, he has no say in who gets stuck with him for the day.

All of us start arguing the five and Z, lots of yelling and pointing.

Finally, Z throws his hands up. "FINE!"

We all shut our faces.

He points to me "Kat! You can take him around today."

I groan, but keep my glare to myself.

Z points to the seat in between Anna and me. Stark grumbles but complies, he's not happy about this arrangement either.

He plops his backpack down and class begins.

Z's class is erratic and interesting as always but short. The bell rings all to soon and I leave the class faster than a rabbit with a coyote on its tail. I weave quickly through the mob hoping to loose Jason in the chaos.

He jogs up to me by my locker. "You're supposed to be helping me."

I shut my locker and scramble the code. Then turn towards him. "All right then, Tip number one, if you can't keep up with me then you're going downhill fast. Tip number two, try not to make anyone mad. We're all stronger or faster than you. Learn to brush off insults."

"You never do" he says annoyed as we race through the hallway.

"I'm a separate case all together"

"So you're super tough or something." There's a mocking tone in his voice that I don't appreciate. He's amused that someone as small as me is regarded as dangerous.

"Not at all."

Amusement thick in his voice he says, "Only Mist can pull of the small and deadly masquerade, you're gonna get killed if you keep it up. Mist won't like impersonators."

"You say that like you know her."

"Not well. We accidentally met, I'm surprised I escaped with my head," He jokes dryly.

I raise an eyebrow. "Come on, let's get to class."

He shrugs.

The first half of the day goes smoothly (we didn't murder each other), or at least as smooth as it can considering the circumstances.

The bell rings for lunch.

I go sit with Anna and Ellie. Jason following me. I whirl around and snap, "What?"

He shrugs, "I have no where to sit."

Ellie grins and colors when she sees Stark. "He can sit with us!" She squeaks.

I roll my eyes and sit down across from Anna,who is as skeptical as I am about Jason Stark.

"Why is he here?" Anna says not caring if Stark over hears. "SHouldn't he be at some private school for the kids of geniuses?"

"No idea" I say picking at my food.

"How'd he get into Z's class?" She ponders.

"Tony Stark." I state bluntly.

She nods, then falls into thought.

Jason looks over at us from his spot next to Ellie and asks her a little too loudly, "What's their problem?"

She giggles and consists of spilling all she knows about me and Anna's lives since we were five.

Which thankfully isn't much.

Ellie has started going on and on about the graffiti that encases my house.

"A bunch of us are going to black out the 'art' all her precious paint's going to be covered up." Ellie whispers just a little too loudly, but not loudly enough so I could clearly hear what she said.

I stand up suddenly about to explode.

Anna pulled my arm a little bit but then let go, knowing that it was unsafe to do so.

My anger is building and building and this is about to get worse, but I sit down anyway.

"I'm ok." I say a little too quickly.

Why would they do that? It's just graffiti to them! Why do they care about trying to make me miserable. I wonder how to stop them seeing as I'm not there half the time.

My head its spinning and spinning, I don't have time to worry about this! Why would Ellie do that? We've been friends since we were kids, only this year has she gotten to be like a freaking wannabe popular. I sigh and my anger bubbles away slightly.

Jason approaches me but doesn't say anything on the way to Mrs. Bellan's class.

He looks at me like I'm insane.

"You're not normal are you?" He says, the bluntness shocking me.

"I'd think that'd be obvious by now." I snap.

He raises an eyebrow, "I didn't mean it like that…"

"Look, just don't ok?"

He shrugs, "Fine."

By the time the bell rings for schools end, me and Jason haven't said anything since lunch.

I hurry home, racing through the streets.

Then I stop at the corner where I live.

That is not my home. That's simply not it. I misheard Ellie. She weren't planning, She was gloating.

Tears sting at my eyes. They could have done anything, and I could have brushed it off.

I put my hand to the wall, the black paint's still drying, based on that It's been a good couple hours since it was applied. I hate it.

I throw my bag through the window and prepare to follow it when I hear snickering.

My head whips around to see Ellie and some popular girls attempting to hide, behind the wall of the old ice cream shop.

"Thanks! I needed a new canvas anyways!" I holler at them, a fake cheerfulness tainting my voice as it threatens to crack. I just turn back around and get inside as fast as I can without it looking like I'm running away.

By the time its pitch black outside I am Mist again. I run through my regular routine and rest on my favorite perch, but I feel weighed down. Those now dull walls used to be some of my favorite things to look at, and to add to. It reminded me that people have been just…different… for decades.

Jason Stark is hanging around in the same place we met. I drop from the roof softly. He turns towards me.

"So you do come here often." He jokes.

"It's just routine." I say in a lower voice than usual, glad for my simple mask.

"Yeah. So, Mist, why do you patrol New York? This is the Iron City." He says referring to Iron Man and himself.

"Oh, you know, Iron man can't be every where, and he never seems to be on the poor side of New York, or in the alleys or anywhere the regular people suffer." I say, a razor edge to my voice.

Jason grinds his teeth, "Are you saying we don't do a good enough job?"

"Actually I'm saying you don't do it period." My anger about all of today and the graffiti is spreading to everything I say and do.

He clenches his fists. His backpack grows and I quickly realize it's his suit.

Silverfist, that's what he calls himself.

His suit quickly consumes him and he's fiercely angry.

"Itchin' for a fight, huh?" I say, my eyes narrowing, "Bring it on."