Light shone into the rather large classroom from high windows. At the front of a room were three chalkboards, each currently obscured by white pull blinds. There was a long high table with a tall stool behind it.

The center of the room was an assortment of tables, with four or five chairs sitting around each. It had a oddly un classroomish look. Each table had a small centerpiece of flowers and a white tablecloth draped over it.

On the remaining three walls of the room were twenty kitchen workstations. Each had modest counterspace, a sink, oven, and a refrigerator. Cabinets lined under the counter and on each wall beside the stations filled with various cooking needs.

Henry tried not to think of the electric bill as he entered the pantry behind the desk. He heard the door open as students began to enter but paid no attention. He was wearing his dark jeans and slide on shoes with a black tee shirt and a bandana around his shaved head. He wore a black apron that said "Don't mess with the Chef" in bright red letters.

A cart with wheels stood beside him and he was placing non perishable ingredients on it for the class. He wasn't nervous, soldiers didn't get nervous about teaching kids. But there was a pang of tense energy in his gut. He pushed the cart into the classroom and went to face the students.

"Quiet down! Time to learn." He said in a firm baritone ad he stopped behind the big instructors table.

How bad could things go?

When Ghost had first recommended Amber complete her GED upon her first night back at the Mansion, she had been uncertain.  After all, with the ability to change shape at will and subsist upon the flesh of any animal she hunted herself and with a strong resistance to any weather condition, money was more of a want than a need.  There was also strong doubt that no matter how successful her reintegration into human society, a walking corpse would never truly be accepted into any station where having a GED would matter.

A great deal of thought went into her decision to pursue to diploma.  In the days and weeks since her return, she had begun remember the things about human life that she enjoyed, and the things her human body could do that none of her other forms could.  The use of hands with opposable thumbs that lead to the use of things like books and computers almost made the lack of strength and dulled senses worth it.  If her human self still felt like her inferior self, at least she was making progress.

It was, in the end, her re-discovered love of learning that prompted her to seek out Gemma and sign the papers that would get her back into school.  Even if it would never matter in the human world, it mattered to her and that's what was important.  It was necessary to balance the two disparate sides of her self.

Coming down to the home economics classroom, Amber felt nervous.  This was the first time she'd been around so many people all at once for a prolonged period of time and the first time she'd been in a classroom for many years.  It has difficult to tell her age, given the nature of the physical aspects of her mutation, at 5 foot she could have been 15 years old or 35.  How did one determine the age of a corpse, anyway?  As the teacher spoke, she did her best to quash the urge to flee in the opposite direction and never turn back.

Among the students that filtered-in was the dark-haired human-shifter, head-and-shoulders shorter than most of the attendees. Of course, he could always try and look taller, but too much effort went into free-form shifts, beyond his usual "human" form. The Latino-looking boy took a seat at the table with dark-eyed, pale-skinned young woman, clambering into an open chair.

Cooking class had been Mama's idea. She insisted that it was beneficial for young ladies and young men to learn how to cook, because everyone benefited from learning life-skills. It wasn't a suggestion. It was a demand.

It was thus that Chase found himself sitting in a chair that was too big for him, feet dangling uselessly. He'd brought his backpack, just in case, and a wide-ruled notebook.

"Um... I-I'm Chase," the child greeted the dark-eyed girl, the sleeves of his sweater balled over his clenched fists. While outside of class he idolized the big kids, inside of a class they were scary. A big kids' class... this girl seemed about Chase's size, though, so she seemed safe, "Wh-what's your n-?"

>> "Quiet down! Time to learn."

Chase tensed, his eyes pulling towards the front of the room. That guys was huge. He looked like he threw bags of flour for fun. Probably the teacher. The twelve-year-old shrank in his chair, eyes owlish.

First day of school is always scary, but the first day at a brand new school full of mutants is the stuff of nightmares. At least it was for Allegra.

Literally nightmares. Her alarm jolted her out of a frightening dreamscape where she was running late to class naked chased by mutant zombies and about to fall off an impossibly tall building. All those cliches that seem laughable in the morning can be pretty darn terrifying when you're dreaming about them.

Things weren’t so much better when she woke up. Allegra looked around and felt an instant sense of claustrophobia surrounded by the mountain of unopened boxes that took up most of her tiny room. Ok, it really wasn’t tiny but as Allegra was used to having a whole floor to herself in her mom’s mansion, this was quite a downgrade. Deciding to bring just about everything she owned to fit into this room wasn’t one of her better plans.

She had meant to talk to someone about getting a bigger room but after spending some time yesterday decorating the cleaning robot along with the Tinkerbell looking girl with the fish scale legs, Allegra decided she was exhausted and just fell into bed.

Wait? Was she really decorating a roomba with pipe cleaners or was that a dream too? Allegra was getting the feeling that ‘reality’ was going to be a pretty subjective term here at this new school.

Allegra showered and instantly missed the shower head's ‘gentle rain shower’ setting that she was used to back home. She was really going to be roughing it here. She then spent an excruciating half hour in the tiny bathroom doing her hair and make up. She then rifled though the unpacked boxes for something to wear and thankfully found one of her favorite Michael Kors floral dresses which would make her feel so much better and more confident. She desperately needed to feel better and confident. She was a wreck.

Allegra hadn’t looked at the schedule ‘Ruddy’ gave her, so it would probably be a good idea to check it out now. First period. Home Ec? Allegra had housekeepers to do all that cooking and cleaning stuff. Well, maybe she could bring home some good recipes.

Allegra wasn’t even going to ask why the headmaster had scheduled her for just about every class the school offered and many of them were scheduled for the same time. Was that a mutant thing? She wasn’t even going to ask what the hell ‘Danger Room’ was.

But now she had to get to her Home Ec class. Thankfully a few passerby took pity on the new girl with no sense of direction and pointed her to where her class was. And it was like no class she had seen before. It looked like a little restaurant inside a classroom. Allegra looked and saw the workstations in back. Workstations equaled work. Allegra was fine with eating food. She wasn’t so much about cooking it.

A young man whooshed right past Allegra as she was standing at the doorway to the classroom trying to take it all in. She had read there would be students of all ages in the classes. A 12 year-old didn’t seem too threatening so she followed the boy and moved to introduce herself.

“Hi, I’m Allegra. Today’s my first day. Do you mind if I sit here?” she asked him.

Allegra then turned and looked the other woman right in the eyes. Or at least she thought she did. It was like looking into pitch black nothingness. And the woman’s skin? My god! It looked sickly and pale like those zombies from her nightmares earlier.

A scream tried to escape Allegra’s lips but she held it back. Allegra tried to remind herself once again that she was attending a school with mutants and some of them would look strange. Strange she could take. Abby’s legs were kind of strange. But this woman looked like something from beyond the grave. Allegra wasn’t sure she could deal with that.

But the only other options were to move to an empty table or just run out of the classroom altogether. Option one would be incredibly uncomfortable and option two would brand her a coward. No,Allegra would just have to pretend that everything was just fine and hope this woman didn’t eat brains.

“N-n-nice to meet you too,” Allegra stammered. “So...um…… looks like an interesting class, huh?” Slowly she slid into her seat. “Wonder what kind of stuff we’re going to learn how to cook. Hopefully not people.” Allegra gave a weak laugh as if to say ‘of course I’m joking.’

Then the drill sergeant of a teacher made his presence known. For a second, Allegra was actually more afraid of him than she was of Amber. But just for a second.

"Think he's gonna make us peel potatoes and do push ups?" Allegra whispered. Chase seemed nervous. Who could tell what Amber was thinking? And Mr. Turner did not look the least bit amused.

Allegra followed Chase’s lead and just sunk down into her chair hoping not to be noticed.

Frantically, Glitch threw on the first T-shirt and skirt she could find. Backpack? Check. The bedroom door was flung open, and out she raced. She'd really overslept this time, and if she didn't hurry, she was going to be late to her new class.

Much time had passed since Glitch had last cooked something. Becoming a robot kind of rendered the activity moot, pointless. Yet, the fond memories of first learning the craft with her parents still lingered. This class was an opportunity to pick cooking back up. It could be fun, even if she couldn't partake of the final product.

Besides, a cooking class was a recipe for an easy A.

She tried to open the classroom door quietly, though it did well to sabotage that with a loud creak. Crap, the teacher was already standing in the front of the class. He looked different than she expected, kind of like a military man, but the apron and everything else set up in the room told her she was in the right place.

Hoping she wasn't late, she tiptoed through the classroom about as subtly as a bright yellow robot girl could. She took a seat at the table behind three other students – a heavily clothed woman, a younger boy, and a blonde-haired girl. “Am I late? I am SO sorry if I am,” she apologized, both to her classmates and the teacher.

The words had barely exited Henry's mouth when the door opened and a robot girl walked in, attempting stealth. Okay, teaching at the mansion was going to take some adjusting. After reaching her seat she gave out an apology, which Henry found to be a bit rediculous. Why try to sneak in quietly if your just going to draw attention to yourself? He pushed the cart in front of the teachers table and ignored the apology as he faced the class. He put on his mental army hat and began.

"This is Home Economics. My name is Mr. Turner. You can call me Mr. Turner, or Sir. This class will teach you how to feed yourself, cloth yourself, and maintain a home" He explained, lifting up a finger for each one.

"These skills might seem dull or useless to some of you, but one day when you are in the real world and you don't have mommy, or daddy, or teachers to cry to you will be glad you know how to take care of yourself." He spoke in a harsh military tone.

He walked around the table and stood behind it, as he continued to speak he made it a point to look into each of the students eyes at least once.

"Today is a pre-test of sorts. You will be cooking a side dish, an entree, and a dessert. Once cooked you will set a formal dining placement and be allowed to eat, afterward you will clean the kitchens and dishes and put them up. Finally i will show you how to do a bit if upkeep in the kitchen." He explained.

He turned and pulled the shades that covered the chalkboard one at a time. The first board was ingredients and directions for macaroni and cheese. The pasta, cheese block, milk, and butter measurement were all written on the board in neat handwriting along with directions on how to prepare the dish.

The middle chalk board had a lemon chicken dish on it. It explained how to chop the vegetables, cook the chicken in a frying pan, and add in spices for proper flavor.

The final board had directions for cookies. Simple enough.

He spun and looked at the class once more.

"There are three fundamentals of cooking. One, you must follow directions. The recipe is the law, at least until you get good enough. Two, you must be able to multitask. Multiple things will be baking, cooking, and popping and you need to focus on all of them. Three, don't be an idiot." He said giving the room a skeptical glance.

"If you can do all of those you will be fine. Most people have trouble with the third. Now non perishables are in the cart, meat and dairy is in the fridges. Don't use work stations 13 or 14." He barked out orders.

"Any questions?" He didn't wait for them to respond," Good. Begin now."

A young boy sat down beside her, introducing himself as Chase.  Although she was now physically in her 20s, in some ways she was still a teenager.  At 16 she had ended up on the Brazil and spent a year as a deinonychus surviving in the rain forest.  That year was largely lost time, she had only small flashes of her life there.  Eventually she woke up, in a manner of speaking, and found herself feasting upon a dead human.  It was not a memory she cared to remember.  

A couple years later she had left the human world a second time, this time remaining closer to home a couple hours outside New York City and this time retaining her human mind.  Still, her second foray into the wild lasted over 2 years and if those two years taught her many things about hunting and general survival, they taught her nothing about emotional and mental development or what it was to be a human adult.

"I'm Amber," she whispered as the teacher started speaking.  She would have smiled but knew from experience that, now days, her smiling was less than reassuring.

The second arrival, introducing herself as Allegra, didn't seem nearly so comfortable in her presence as the first.  Amusement warred with distress at the reaction with amusement winning out by a narrow margin.  "Why not people?" Amber asked, raising her black eyes to meet those of the newcomer.  Her expression remained deadpan.  Maybe playing off her intimidation factor could be fun.

Just as the teacher started speaking, a robot girl entered.  The different, varied mutants made her miss Sanctuary and her little lost family all the more.

As her new teacher spoke, Amber decided not to mention the fact that she didn't technically need to learn any of the skills he suggested were necessities in life.  Eating was as simple as killing something and tearing flesh from bone.  She had lived in a den in the woods for years, so she had that covered.  Clothing was a human convention and a somewhat puzzling at that.  Still, even if she didn't technically need any of these things, she wanted to learn.  Part of being human again.  For the moment, she had no questions.

She made sure her silver hair wa sin place as she came through the door a few minute before clas sstarted. It had been awhile since Aoi had been in class, but she was very happy to be here. She did her best to stay to herself, as she took her seat, looking over the class with interest. Powers really did have such a huge diversity to them it was amazing. She managed to keep smiling though, she liked home ec and was a decent cook, as her parents had tought her. She was full of nervous excitement and looking forward to what she might learn this year.

Looking over the class she thought most seemed to be within a few years of her. . She overheard Allegra and Amber and hoped if they were put in groups she would be put somewhere other then Amber as she was not entirely sure the woman was joking and Aoi considered herself a 'people'.

Before she could dwell on she focused on the teacher both to know what was going on and to keep the monster inside her at bay. She was pretty sure she had teachers like this guy before, he seemed like he might be on the strict side, which she was use to. Their task seemed easy enough to her. Looking at the board she determined the ingredients she would need and began to gather them quietly. She decided to make the macoroni and cheese first and move on from there.

Chase's eyes pulled towards "Amber" first, and then towards the blond girl who joined them, Allegra. Allegra squawked at Amber and then stammered something about how interesting the class would be, and how hopefully they wouldn't cook people. Amber said something about, "Why not people?" and this earned a laugh that was a little-too-loud from the twelve-year-old. Why would they cook people!? The idea was so absurd, the twelve-year-old couldn't help but laugh.

"D-do you eat people?" the twelve-year-old asked the blond, not wanting to seem to judgmental. The colors in his eyes flickered through an array of curiosity and amusement, but he quieted as the teacher gained control of the class. Allegra asked if the boy thought they'd peel potatoes or do push-ups and the child shouldered a shrug. He didn't really know what to expect. And that unknowing intimidated him.

>> "This is Home Economics. My name is Mr. Turner. You can call me Mr. Turner, or Sir. This class will teach you how to feed yourself, cloth yourself, and maintain a home."

Chase glanced sideways at his neighbors, a small frown tugging at his lips. Yup, this sounded like the class that Mama wanted him to be in. Chase had been hoping for a nice teacher though-- a soft, fat grandma type perhaps. Mr. Turner looked like he could tear a phone-book in half with his bare hands.

It was at about this point that Chase locked eyes with Mr. Turner. He bashfully looked at his hands as Mr. Turner drilled the importance of his class, the purpose it would serve, on and on. Chase knew his eyes changed colors, and he knew that at this moment they were probably swimming through the worried/anxious hues of orange, yellow-orange and yellow. He was afraid that if he looked in Mr. Turner's eyes, Mr. Turner would know that the twelve-year-old thought he could rip phone-books with his bare hands.

>> "Today is a pre-test of sorts. You will be cooking a side dish, an entree, and a dessert. Once cooked you will set a formal dining placement and be allowed to eat, afterward you will clean the kitchens and dishes and put them up. Finally i will show you how to do a bit if upkeep in the kitchen."

Chase swallowed hard, feeling anxious. Weren't they in here to learn how to cook? That's what he was supposed to teach them... why were they cooking on day one, if they hadn't learned anything yet?

>> "There are three fundamentals of cooking. One, you must follow directions. The recipe is the law, at least until you get good enough. Two, you must be able to multitask. Multiple things will be baking, cooking, and popping and you need to focus on all of them. Three, don't be an idiot."

Chase kept looking at his hands. Follow the rules, do a whole bunch of things at once, don't be an idiot. How could you be smart about something you knew nothing about?

>> "If you can do all of those you will be fine. Most people have trouble with the third. Now non perishables are in the cart, meat and dairy is in the fridges. Don't use work stations 13 or 14."

The eleven year old could feel his ears growing warm, a restless spasm had grown in his leg. He bounced his foot. How could you be smart about something you knew nothing about?

>> "Any questions?"

Chase rose his hand.

>> "Good. Begin now."

Chase lowered his hand. He was younger than most of the students and, as such, was wondering if... maybe.. they got to work in pairs? Or did they have to work independently? He cast a glance at Amber, and then hoisted himself from his chair. Shyly, he made his way towards Mr. Turner, the anxious orange of his eyes virulent now.

"Mr. Turner, sir," Chase asked, his eyes pulling towards Mr. Turner's face. He looked at his teacher's nose, rather than his eyes. Eye contact was too stressful, "Are we doing this independently? Or is it okay to work in pairs? It's just, uh, I'm twelve. A-and I don't know a whole lot so, um... it might help... to, uh, have someone older help me? Please?"

What do you get when you cross a robot with a ninja? Someone who failed ninja school.  

It was an awful joke but it was the first thing that Allegra thought of when Glitch tried to sneak in. Her next thought was ‘why is there a robot in this class?’ Of course, this wasn’t any stranger than flesh eating zombie mutants. Besides,this seemed like a friendly robot, kind of like DJ Roomba. The T-shirt she wore made her seem more whimsical. Allegra wondered how many other mechanical beings were lurking around here. Allegra had no idea that Gladys was a mutant as well. She just smiled and waved at the mechanical mutant as she joined them at the table.

Then Allegra noticed Aoi sitting by herself. Allegra was the type that wanted to include everyone and didn’t want people to be lonely. Plus, Aoi looked like a normal person unlike most of the folks at her table. Normal was comforting. Sure, the girl’s hair color was different but that fell under the category of ‘cool not creepy.’ In fact Allegra wanted to ask her about it so she called over to her. “Hi. Why don’t you come over and sit with us?” Allegra offered with a welcoming smile.

The smile turned to something like the expression in ‘The Scream’ painting as Amber calmly asked "Why not people?" Allegra was dumbfounded. How do you answer that?

“Because…….people!” Allegra managed to gasp. No, it certainly wasn’t a debate team worthy response, but Allegra was both shocked and afraid that she might be the appetizer. Discussing the finer point of cannibalism wasn’t something she was prepared to do while Amber’s unblinking eyes were piercing through her. Allegra just whimpered and scooted her chair back away from the table.

The young boy started laughing. Did he think Allegra’s sheer terror was funny? “No! I do not eat people!” she shouted. “Normal people do not eat people. Why are we even discussing this?”

(FYI: Anyone who answers 'because you started it' is going to make Allegra very upset. )

Then class began. Allegra did not care for the teacher’s comment about the real world where you can’t go crying to mommy. Allegra had already texted her mother her school schedule so her mom could start rounding up people that could do Allegra’s homework for her. Allegra decided that Mr. Turner had a very warped view of the real world.

She frowned at the menu. Allegra was a vegan who didn’t eat animals or animal products. Although her shoes and handbags were leather (fashion comes first) Allegra loved animals and couldn’t understand why they needed to suffer needlessly when there were so many alternatives to eat. Granted, this paled in comparison to the idea of eating people but she was still concerned. She wished she had looked at her schedule when Ruddy gave it to her so she could voice her objections.

Allegra rose her hand along with Chase then lowered it at the same time. Mr. Turner (aka ‘Sir’) was not much for the questions.

Chase was persistent. He was going to ask anyway.

“I think we should work as a group,” Allegra said to the others. She’d wait to see what the teacher had to say about the matter, though.

And, Glitch still didn't know if she was late. Eh, she probably was. She shrugged and returned the blonde girl's wave. Whatever. No news is good news.

She tried to follow the conversation her classmates were having, but it seemed she'd only caught the tail end of it. Whatever the woman's joke was, the boy clearly found it funny, and the blonde, well, looked hysterical. Dang. Glitch wished she hadn't missed that. Served her right for failing at sneaking into class, she supposed.

It was clear that she and her classmates were being thrown into the first cooking session sink or swim style. She eyed the recipes. Mac and cheese? Cookies? Easy peasy. The chicken, however, was a more complex dish involving spices and veggies. Not to mention, there was cleanup afterward, and only so much time. Maybe this A wouldn't be so easy after all.

A couple of students raised their hands, but they were ignored. Glitch snerked. The teacher was going with the hard-ass drill sergeant routine. In a class that wasn't P.E. Heh. It looked like she'd better behave or else run laps or do sit-ups.

“Ooo! Group work's fun,” she eagerly replied to the blonde's suggestion. It was an excuse for socialization, but hey, it sure would take the edge off the day's tasks. Besides, there were probably students present who'd never held a spatula nor ladle in their life.

Henry had seen the hands raise and ignored them. He knew there would be questions. Passivity was not a tact Henry respected, standing up and doing what was nessisary was. And a small boy did just that. He said he was twelve and Henry suppressed a grin. He was only a little older than his daughter Aerial. He asked if they could work in groups. A blonde girl, who looked like she didn't know a hard days work followed up by agreeing. She was speaking with the classmates but he could sense her trying to feel out Henry's response. Robot rock also chimed in.

Henry let a smile cross his lips. He had wondered when the group work idea would happen.

"Sure you can work in groups," He said walking around to the front of his desk.

He planted his hands and hoisted himself onto the desk, sitting comfortably.

"But if you work in groups, you share a grade. You can work solo if you'd like or form groups. I won't put a size limit but I grade off the person who does the worst." He explained, "So if you form a group and someone stands around doing nothing congrats you all fail together."

Now to see how these kids adapted.

"Last rule. If you form a group today it's your group for the semester. No changes no substitution. If they fail you fail, if they drop out you fail. Consider it motivation to keep your team on track." He said.

It was a competitive tactic. Those with skills would be better off working alone. Those without any would want to group together to work through problems. A group of incompetent people trying to work together could lead to disaster. It would lead those who lacked confidence to look for those who did, and those with confidence might hesitate to do it

It would show him how they prioritized.

"I'll be coming around to check on you guys once you get started. Split up as you wish. Once the foods done I'll show you how to set a table. Anything else?" He said with a wolfish grin.

Chase started laughing which either meant that he appreciated her dark sense of humour or that the context of the comment had gone swoosh right over his head.  Asking the blond if she ate people made the whole experience all the more entertaining.  Who said zombies couldn't' have a sense of humour, anyway? 

The blond sputtered her indignant response at the very idea of eating people.  Amber smiled at her and although the smile was meant to take the sting out of the words and indicate she hadn't been serious, she was well aware that now days her smile was more ghastly and possibly a bit horrifying rather than mirthful.  If she took it as the grin of someone a little mentally unstable and threatening rather than playfully mischievous, well, how was she to know?

"Who here is normal?"  It was a fair question, as far as she was concerned.  They were all mutant, right?  And in the crowd was a robot girl, a zombie, a girl with funny black and white hair and she was pretty sure she saw Chase's eyes change colour.  Probably given enough time, the others would prove to be unusual too.  Nope, nothing normal there.

At the suggestion of working in groups, Amber's attention returned to the task at hand.  Cooking.  Cooking without any actual teaching at all.  Thrown right into the deep end and being expected to sink or swim.  It was all fun and games until someone ended up unintentionally poisoning someone else.  

"Um...yes, groups.  Please."  Suddenly she wasn't feeling nearly so confident as her momentary mirth had almost allowed her to forget her usual collection of anxieties.  So apparently they would all sink or swim together.  OK then.  She was beginning not to like her new teacher very much.  He seemed mean.
It was probably a good thing her sister, Aura, was no longer in her life because her sister's violent tendencies had tended to rub off on her when they were together.  Biting off the teacher's hand was probably not the best way to encourage a passing grade.

"So, um, does anyone actually have experience with cooking things?"  That seemed like a good place to start.  At least it looked like she could actually eat all the ingredients. That was something.

SHe hesitated a moment at joining the group but came over in part because she figured it would be good to be a little more social. She did her best to push the joke about eating people from her mind. It would not be good for her to dwell on such things she knew.

Focusing in the task, she considered what they had to make. She had never mac and cheese before but she had cooked with chicken before with her mother and the cookies looked easy enough to make. Like the teacher said it was all about following the directions.

WHile she was thinking of this her eyes came to rest on the robot girl which reminded her of a cartoon or two she had seen, which made her smile softly. Amber looked a bit scary, the older blonde girl looked pretty and she was unsure about the boy about her age,

"So may i please ask how good you all are at cooking? I have some skills"[/color] she said figuring the best place to start was by understanding each of their skills. "when i cooked with my mom she would always have me prep something while she worked on something. Maybe we could do something like that here?" she thought figuring dividing their resources among the three projects so that when one finnished the next could go in.[/font]

Mr. Turner allowed for groups. On one condition--

>> "But if you work in groups, you share a grade. You can work solo if you'd like or form groups. I won't put a size limit but I grade off the person who does the worst."

Chase nodded, his eyes swivelling back towards his classmates. Anything was better than working alone. He didn't know what to do, which meant failure was sure-fire alone. At least if he was with someone, the likelihood of not-failing was a little higher.

>> "So if you form a group and someone stands around doing nothing congrats you all fail together."

Doing nothing wouldn't be an issue. He'd do something-- whether that something was "fail" or "try", it would be something. Mr. Turner said something about "dropping out" but Chase glazed right the heck over when he started to talk about that. Mr. Turner announced he'd make rounds once everyone got started, and the students set to deciding on how to group themselves.

Chase looked at the kitchens, the small cubicles with their own ovens, sinks, and counter-space.

"Even if we all work together," the twelve-year-old said, "I think there should be two or three people per station. I don't think there's enough room for more than three butts."

Amber asked if anyone actually had any skill with cooking. A silver-haired Asian girl announced that she had some skills. Chase shook his head wordlessly. He didn't have any, that's why he wanted to be with other people. So that they could carry each other.

In the back of his mind, Chase wondered if the silver-haired Asian girl would let him borrow a personal affect. He could just turn into her and subconsciously acquire the skills she possessed around cooking after turning into her. No... that would be cheating...

With his hand still covered by a sleeve, Chase lightly tugged on Amber's sleeve.

"Wanna work together?"

She looked different, which already gave Chase a sense of kinship with her. Though he looked humanoid right now, he could just as easily devolve into his natural form and be just like Amber.