Adjusting
This wasn't hard. This was impossible.
Jubilee kicked open the door to her shared room, hauling a gym bag and school books inside. Two steps in and she dumped everything to the floor, staggering to the nearest bed where she collapsed.
She decided that she hated this place.
"It's like 11am, it's too early to be that tired."
Jubilee had grown accustomed to Kitty's matter of fact approach to absolutely everything, and was content to ignore her.
Lifting her head from the mattress, she found the girl at her desk, finishing up a paper on a laptop. Her hair was done up in a messy bun, and she was dressed in gym clothes.
"Didn't you already have training?" Jubilee mumbled.
Kitty nodded, not sparing a glance. "I have an extra session after my next class."
Jubilee rolled her eyes. Kitty's determination to be The Best There Ever Was had run it's course of amusement, and now it was just annoying.
"Did you finish the notes for Professor X's class?"
Jubilee mumbled in reply.
"Great, I left my notes from McCoy's class on your desk, just leave X's notes on mine. Kay?"
Jubilee grumbled in reply.
Four weeks had crawled by, each day crammed with classes and homework and training - this was far worse than any schooling Jubilee ever endured. If Kitty hadn't been so damn persistent about partnering with her to keep up with the rigorous schedule, Jubilee would have let the girl flail in their shared courses.
Classes consisted of various sciences, maths, and history - each of which she managed with ease. Learning had never been an issue for her - there was just so much of it everyday. Quizzes, exams, projects, labs, papers - one after another, after another, after another.
She only had four professors - including Ororo, who had dumped half a year's worth of school work as preparation for her class.
Therefore, Jubilee despised the woman. And anything to do with social sciences and history.
Like, who really needed to dissect the problematic structure of politics in South Africa?
And one of her Professors was a huge blue cat. Huge. Built like a line backer and fuzzy all over. With cat ears. Jubilee spent her first conversation with him just staring. He taught every kind of science imaginable - and beyond. Biology, chemistry, physics, theoretical something else - it went on and on and Jubilee was already at the point where she never wanted to look at another molecule structure for the rest of her life.
Professor X was hardly ever in his own classes. Wheel chair guy with the bald head was the most elusive person she'd met. To everyone on this campus he was some kind of celebrity. Kitty tried to shove a video clip of a TedTalk with the guy and Jubilee had just propped up a textbook against the computer screen instead. Any time she saw him, he was always on his way somewhere, flanked by another professor or one of the upper classmen - particularly the red head. Often, if not Ororo or the giant cat, she would sub for his class. If there wasn't such a strict attendance policy, Jubilee would skip as much as she can. She hated being in the same room with her.
Unlike Professor X, SHE was everywhere. Jubilee was tired of looking up and finding the girl staring at her from across the hall or some doorway. It was giving Jubilee headaches.
Last was Logan. So far, he had kept his promise to stay on campus. To the surprise of other students, apparently. Of the entire staff, he was typically the most absent. But his presence only caused everyone to dread HIS class.
He was in charge of training. Unlike any public school she had ever been to, it involved obstacle courses, martial arts, weight training, and extensive team building. At least, that's what he told her. Since she started he had separated Jubilee from the other kids, having her run drills for the entire session. The rest were ushered into some kind of gymnasium while she remained in an open training room. She didn't mind though. If anything, it was kind of like home - like the gyms during her Olympian days. The familiarity of weight machines, stationary bikes, and double bars were the only things helping her adjust. And it was the only time she was ever really left alone. Meanwhile, students like Kitty complained regularly about how brutal Logan was.
Kitty made a few clicks on her lap top, closed it, and jumped to her feet, scooping up a bag and a pair of shoes. She paused to look over Jubilee.
"Did you even eat?"
Jubilee started, "Food?"
Kitty rolled her eyes, marching toward the door, "Where do you put away all that crap? You eat like a hippo.”
Jubilee was already scrambling to her feet, the prospect of raiding that kitchen dulled the ache of exhaustion.
"This incredibly sexy fighting machine I have for a body is very high maintenance," Jubilee shoved past Kitty through the doorway, making a sprint for the kitchen. "I also shit regularly!"
"Hey! The notes!"
Kitty received a shout and a wave and watched Jubilee disappear around a corner.
The mess hall was already buzzing with students eating late breakfasts or early lunches, tables crowded with food and school work.
Jubilee immediately darted to the left side of the vast room, walking parallel to the wall as she made a b-line for the kitchen doors.
Kids still stared at her and whispered when she walked by. Jubilee paid no mind. She wasn't here to make friends.
Kitty, despite her best efforts, was hardly a friend. Jubilee's relationship with her was at most a fragile alliance.
Marie, on the other hand.
Jubilee shoved the kitchen door open, already scheming what she would throw into her omelette, and came to a hard stop.
There, sitting on the marble counter eating a bowl of cereal in her pajamas, hair standing out at odd angles and regarding her with a sleepy expression, was Marie.
Jubilee couldn't stop the frustrated sigh as she felt all the joy leave her, only to be replaced by full blown anxiety.
The two had worked extremely hard to avoid one another, and never remained alone in the same room. After Kitty’s arrival, they never revisited that conversation. Jubilee had decided she didn't want to explore what else Marie had picked up from their contact, and hoped the girl wouldn't want to either.
But the moment they discovered the tension between them - a strange, shared silence where they did not break eye contact, which happened the last time they both reached for a dinner roll in the mess - there was an unspoken agreement to not let it happen again.
And then there were the weird things that Marie did. The gestures. The things she said. The way she walked. What she laughed at. Her sudden change in color wardrobe. No one else noticed but Jubilee.
How she was dealing with it was stupid, immature, and clearly getting worse, but Jubilee didn't want to talk about it. She didn't. Oh god, she didn't.
Marie was the first to look away, interested only in consuming her breakfast.
Jubilee huffed, marching towards the fridge and throwing it open, immediately getting to work gathering her ingredients.
She was going to make the most delicious omelette ever. It was going to destroy all omelettes ever made. Nothing would ever compare -
"You're out of egg whites."
Jubilee froze, her hand already reaching for that drawer. She had just pulled the onions, peppers, tomatoes, and a loaf of sliced bread.
How could she have known? Jubilee never made her regular meals in front of Marie. With her mouth twisting into a snarl, she yanked the drawer open and cursed loudly.
They were out of egg whites. They in fact, had no eggs.
Jubilee slammed the fridge closed. Whatever, it was a good guess. Everyone has eggs for breakfast. Clearly they did because there were none left. Fine.
She had just put her hand on the freezer door when Marie spoke again.
"Toaster strudels. No Eggos this week."
What the fuck.
"Who does the grocery shopping for this place? Don't they know how many people need to eat?"
These were not the questions Jubilee wanted to ask. She stifled a groan as she pressed her forehead to the cool surface of the refrigerator door.
"I hid a box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch in the cupboard."
That did it.
"How do you know that?"
Marie stopped mid-chew, glancing at Jubilee, who pushed herself away from the fridge, frowning, angry.
"Don't play dumb. Answer the question."
"Can you be more specific?"
"What the f - everything! How do you know everything? How do you know what I like for breakfast? How did you know I like that one part of that Taylor Swift song but not the other? Why do you say the things out loud that I think of in my head? Who told you what incense I like? How is it that you know what to give me before I even ask for it?"
In her anger, she had moved closer and closer to Marie, until she was standing right in front of her, looking up at her bewildered face.
"What did you see when you touched me?"
It had been the one question burning in her mind since Marie admitted to taking more than a sample of her power when they had touched.
Marie lowered the bowl she held in her hands, biting her lip.
"I saw you on the mats the other night."
Jubilee couldn't sleep, and had gotten up to burn the energy in the training room. She had trudged up to the door, and froze. There, tumbling and flipping and flying across the floor with precision and ease, was Marie.
It would have been easy for Jubilee to dismiss the sight - anyone could do a cartwheel or a backflip.
But it was a specific routine. And it wasn’t just ordinary tumbling. Olympians could only do that kind of work. And Jubilee knew those moves, down to the count. They were hers.
"Tell me what you saw, Marie."
The girl had held Jubilee's glare, and her mouth twisted into a snarl.
"Ask me a question."
Jubilee scowled. "What?"
"Ask. Me. A question."
It took Jubilee a moment to process the command.
"What's my favorite color."
"Blue."
No hesitation. She almost answered before Jubilee could finish the question.
"Where was I born - "
"Santa Monica, Mount Sinai Hospital," Marie pursed her lips. "Don't make this easy for me."
Jubilee felt the anger twisting in her gut. "My twelfth birthday -"
"You climbed a rotted railing on the pier and fell into the ocean. The current took you so far out you couldn't swim back to shore. A surfer caught you. His name was Gil."
Jubilee gaped at Marie as if she grew a third head. Not a second. A third.
"You lost the stuffed unicorn you won at one of the booths. He showed up to the hospital after winning another one for you."
"You -"
"Your mother -"
"Stop."
Jubilee had only breathed the word. But Marie fell silent. And waited.
She was standing between Marie's knees, hands on either side of her, clinging to the edge of the counter.
She was shaking.
"The ocean was so blue that day. That's why you climbed onto the railing. You liked the smell. The wind in your hair. The fall ruined your favorite jean jacket. The one with the cartoon buttons. Bugs Bunny."
She had never told anyone that story. It was during the summer, before school, and no one ever knew what had happened. And she kept that stupid unicorn. She named it
"Gil. You named the unicorn Gil."
Jubilee almost didn't notice Marie slip down from the counter and wrap her arms around her neck. The embrace was so warm and soft, she couldn't pull from it. She couldn't remember someone holding her like this. Had it been so long?
"I really liked that jacket," Jubilee whispered.
"I know."
"I bet you hate hugging."
"I really do."
"Glad I could be an exception."
"Want some cereal?"
"I do."
A beat passed.
"By the way I loved cinnamon toast crunch before we met."
"Oh, thank God."