I chewed on the end of my pencil, frustrated and trying very hard not to project my emotion onto those around me. I'd oh-so-conveniently left my calculator in my room from the homework I hadn't managed to finish, and this quiz that Frost popped on us demanded that I use one. Of course, I couldn't share a calculator. That was against the rules. And we simply couldn't go about breaking the rules. So I dealt with it as best as I could, using arithmetic when possible and flat-out guessing when all else had failed. The pencil I used, though, had no eraser; I'd used it up working on sketches.

That was the problem with the Massachusetts Academy: no art classes. Fortunately, the schedule worked out so that there was a long break in the middle of the day and classes resumed in the afternoon, so I could draw then. Or write, or practice the piano, or whatever.

I hadn't practised in a while. I was going to get rusty and then piano therapy, when I needed it, would only frustrate me further.

How the heck was I supposed to do this without a calculator?

"Please pass your papers forward," Frost instructed coolly.

But I wasn't finished! I frantically scribbled down some random answer -- forty-two -- just so I could have something on paper. There was no chance it was actually right, but it comforted me in a strange sort of way. Reluctantly, I passed my paper forward.

Monet whispered a quiet ~disgust~contempt~ as she accepted my paper. Of course, I noted, she's taking in my absolute imperfection and wondering how so inferior a creature could possibly exist.

I grinned. Being imperfect was quite all right with me. And if some people refused to accept me the way I was, so be it.

(*Are yer directing that thought at anyone in particular?*) Jono's psionic words came with certain humour directly to me over the link that had been established between us only last week.

I tried my hardest to pointedly ignore him, but it was rather difficult to simply ignore someone inside my head. Instead I just didn't answer, hoping he'd get the hint.

Of course he did.

The clacking of chalk on the blackboard called my attention to the front of the room, where Frost had written the assignment.

I sighed heavily and turned my attention to the textbook that lay closed on my desk. After opening it to the prescribed pages, I tried to read the words before me, but they only swam in a circle like a lonely goldfish trapped forever in its terrible prison of a bowl.

I didn't understand those words, so I didn't really read them. There was no point in even trying because Frost would never actually help me if I needed help. She was a terrible teacher. And I didn't like her, either.

"Please concentrate on your texts," she instructed, issuing a blanket statement which was actually directed at the daydreaming Jubilee. "Jennifer, could I see you a moment?"

Oh, Light above. I abandoned the notes I wasn't taking and went to Frost's desk. When I arrived, she spoke in the quiet tones teachers use when they're certain the rest of the class can't hear, even when those in the second row pride themselves on their impeccable hearing.

I ignored Monet's sudden interest in this conference. "Ms. Frost?" I asked.

"Yes ... Jennifer, is everything ... okay?"

No. "Everything's fine ... ma'am ... why do you ask?" Had I just called her "ma'am"? Ew.

She eyed me suspiciously.

"Ah, well, I ... I left my calculator in my room," I admitted. "I couldn't, ah, finish the quiz." Maybe that was what she was looking for -- I hoped so.

She looked perplexed. "That's all?" she questioned, hoping to elicit a responce from me.

"I think so, Ms. Frost. Yes, that's all." Light, I sounded like a Girl Scout.

"Why were you unable to begin note-taking after the assignment was given?" she demanded.

What? Her question had come out of thin air, catching me off-guard and I wasn't sure how to respond.

"You are aware that there is to be no communication during class," she told me.

"Communication?" I echoed.

"No talking," Frost reminded, "no passing notes, and no telepathy."

Oh, crap. She didn't ... she didn't know about the link, did she? I'd be in so much trouble.... "I'm not -- I mean, I don't --" My voice escaped in short bursts of sound, spouting incoherent thoughts. Smooth, Jen. Real smooth.

"I am well aware of the nature of your powers. I am also aware of your classmates' powers. Do not let it happen again."

A warning -- not bad. Maybe she didn't know about the link, per se. "It won't," I promised.

"You may return to your seat."

I did so, feeling like I'd been trampled upon. I stared at the open book on the table in front of me and opened my notebook. I had no desire to take notes. I scribbled something on the paper to appease Frost, hoping I could just get this done with so I might be allowed to leave this dirty fishbowl.

Scratch, scratch, scratch, as my pen travelled over the paper, the dark ink marks spelling out my frustrations with bad teachers across the world in free verse. I glanced to the book and then back to the notebook -- I could pretend I knew what I was doing. If I could convince her I'd be free to go ... just as soon as she let us out.

If only this school worked on a bell system instead of the whims of its headmistress! Then I wouldn't have to wait so long ... and the time spent here turned long, much longer than usual. Was this some sort of group punishment for some infraction of the rules I was unaware of?

I hoped not.

A few seats behind and to the left of me, Jubilee was becoming ~nervous~ and drummed her fingers on the table in front of her. It was irritating. Everyone else was ~anxious~ to leave ...

Oh, please excuse us from the misery of class!

"Class dismissed."

Thank you! Thank you! The ~gratitude~ in the classroom was almost palpable as the slim student population of the Massachusetts Academy left the room in an eager hurry.

I fell into step beside Jubilee and Alison. "Hey," I greeted.

"Hey," Alison replied.

"Dude! What was up with that, like, thing? Wha'd Frosty talk t'ya about?"

"Eh ... " I evaded the question with a vague answer. "Stuff."

Jubilee grinned. "C'mon, 'stuff'? Wha'd she say?"

"Nothing important," I answered. I didn't need my personal business public knowledge, though I imagined nothing was very personal here. There weren't many students and word had a tendency to travel fast. The link would eventually be known, and the longer I kept the information regarding its presence to myself, the better.

Jubilee raised a suspicious eyebrow but said no more.

"Did you guys want to do something this afternoon?" I asked.

"There's a test tomorrow," Alison pointed out.

"So?" Jubilee wondered.

I grinned. Even though she could be obnoxious sometimes, I had to agree with her philosophy now. "Look," I pointed out, "if you don't know the material now, you're not gonna know it."

Alison just stuck her tongue out at me.

"Oh, now that's mature," I commented.

Jono breezed coldly past the three of us. I knew he'd been coming, so he hadn't scared me, per se, but the icy emotions he emitted just seemed so off.

Alison glanced at me, slightly worried.

"I --" I started to answer, but my voice caught in my throat.

"You okay?" Jubilee asked.

I was so tired of that question. "Yeah ... yeah, fine."

"Somethin's goin' on between you two," Jubilee observed.

"Not really." I thought maybe there had been. But nothing could ever come of these feelings I harboured -- these feelings I knew he was aware of -- because neither of us wanted to do anything about it. Even the link went by undiscussed -- we hadn't discussed anything. We hadn't even spoken to one another -- not really, anyway.

"Not really?" Jubilee echoed.

"Could we just drop the subject?" My words were perhaps a bit too harsh, but I had sensed Alison's ~discomfort~ as the subject was brought up.

"Sure," Jubilee agreed a little hastily. "Not a problem."

Going back to our respective rooms, we abandoned the thought of doing anything since Alison needed to study for tomorrow's test. I probably should have studied, too, but I didn't feel like it.

As I went through my e-mail, I grew increasingly bored. There was nothing of interest to be found in my mailbox.... Why not just talk to him? Why not just clear everything up?

Because I had no idea how to do that. And this bloody flaming link wasn't helping anything. His ~boredom~ filtered into my own emotional state and altered it -- or was that my boredom changing his emotions? I wasn't sure. But we were both bored and irritated, coloured with impatient tinges of ~regret~. And though my regret wished I could only speak to him properly, I didn't know just what his was directed at. Paige? Maybe. It certainly wasn't outside the realm of possibility.

I really should just go talk to him, I thought. The worst that would happen is that he'd only confirm that he did indeed hate me.

No, I corrected, pushing the chair away from the computer, he didn't hate me. They didn't hate me. I didn't know what it was, but it wasn't hate.

Well, it wasn't love, either.

I took my case into the hallway -- Jono was close by? What was he doing in the girls' dorms?

Oh, Light. I didn't know what he was doing up here and I didn't care. It would be so much easier for me to just forget this. Forget all these things that I felt and forget about them sitting in there doing only Light above knew what. I didn't want to deal with this. They could just lead their happy lives together forever because it was like destiny with them or something and I just wasn't in the picture and --

Oh, Light, I needed space.

I needed to get out of here. Now. Lots of space. So far away from him -- from them --

How could I be so stupid? I should have known --

It was a little bit of everything, I guessed. It was always a little bit of everything. There was never just one thing -- it was always a build-up of little precious things, just breaking and cutting me up until I finally snapped, and then I started feeling masochistic. Blood would have been nice about then.

I ran back into my room -- my room? Yes -- my room. The room I lived in. Complete with X-Files poster and CDs and all. Tubes of acrylic paint and brushes littered the floor amidst the dirty laundry. I'd attempted to paint fire last night ...

The yellow was still uncapped. I ignored it. I was beginning to hate that colour.

Even though I paid good money for that paint. Light -- it didn't matter. Hell, nothing mattered. I wanted my keyboard. I wanted to play -- I needed my music -- but there were people down there and I couldn't disturb anyone.

Light! I needed more space than this! I had to get out of here! I got out of my room.

"Hey, Jenny!"

I walked right past Jubilee in the hallway without so much as my typical "Don't call me that" -- I just kept going.

"Where ya goin'?"

Don't stop, don't answer, I told myself, don't do anything. I didn't want to hurt her or snap at her. She wasn't a part of this. Of course, she followed me, emanating ~worry~ like someone was sick or hurt.

I was not sick or hurt.

Well, I wasn't sick.

"Jen, stop! Please."

I stopped and prayed I wouldn't do anything rash. Control, I reminded myself, it's all about control. I held my gaze level; Jubilee fidgeted with the edges of her jacket as she spoke.

"Well, I mean, like, you're ... um, emoting ... and stuff ... again. I know Frosty was like it'd happen and stuff but this seems like way too much or somethin'."

"Your point?" She did seem to have one, but I didn't think she'd get to it soon.

"Well, uh ... it's like yer upset about somethin'. And I know it isn't like my business or nothin' but I just wanted to know like what was wrong and stuff."

I nodded and uttered some non-committal sound, then continued on my way downstairs. I didn't want to talk about it now. Talking would solve problems, and I was still feeling masochistic. Besides, if I did want to talk, I didn't want to talk to Jubilee. She was nice and all, but ... well. She was Jubilee.

"Jen! Wait!"

I stopped and turned. What was it now? Couldn't I just leave without having to talk to someone?

"Look, ya don't hafta tell me what's wrong if ya don't want to. But ... c'mon an' have some fun and stuff."

Fun? Sure. I wanted to ... have fun ... now.

"Ev an' us were gonna watch a movie, order a pizza."

A pizza. And a movie. Right. Just what I wanted.

"C'mon, Jen! It'll be fun!"

"Er ... maybe later."

She grinned. "Yah, well, y' wanna go with Ange to get the stuff?"

I didn't want to go anywhere. Hadn't I made that perfectly plain? "Um ... why don't you guys go. I'll stay here."

"Dude, like, yer goin'. Yer not gonna just, like, mope around the house. S'like, wrong, or somethin'."

In a whirl of motion, I was dragged downstairs, stuffed into one of the school's Jeeps, and subjected to Angelo's driving skills (or the considerable lack thereof). Why, I wondered, hadn't Jubilee come with, if it was her idea? Or Alison, or Everett, or even Monet?

She just wanted to take my mind off of Jono, didn't she?

Of course she did.

As if that could even be done.

I remained in the car, having no desire to go into the video store or even come here in the first place. Whatever happened to the masochism I'd felt before?

Going to rent movies was not the kind of pain I wanted to inflict upon myself. I sighed and turned the radio on.

"... anywhere you go, I'll follow you down ... "