Tarissa made her way through the empty halls of New Rochelle high school, a pleasant smile on her face. Besides the excitement of being someplace new, she had always enjoyed the familiar classroom smells that were a part of any school. Though her senses were as normal as any human’s, she could still smell the scents of chalk, books, and locker-lined hallways. Passing one particular hall, she got a whiff of what they were cooking in the cafeteria and licked her lips. It was still quite early yet and if any students had yet arrived, she hadn’t seen them. Probably for the better. She would rather slip in quietly than draw attention to herself by entering a room full of people. She always hated that.

    Glancing at her schedule, she looked up at the room numbers as she passed them, attempting to find her first class. Her father had done everything online and over the phone, from registration to class scheduling before they moved here, so not even the principal knew that they had a mutant openly attending class today. Not that that had been their goal, it was more to make sure she could start right away and not miss on any class work. But slipping in under the radar was a nice bonus to that. Now the question was: What would be the result?
Tar breathed in a deep breath as she found her class. “Well,” she muttered to herself, “should be interesting.”

    She then reached for the handle and opened the door to an empty classroom. Warm sunlight poured in through windows on the far wall, some of which had been opened allowing the crisp morning breeze to flow in and fill the room. Tar breathed deeply the fresh air and smiled at the quiet and peacefulness of the room. She knew it wouldn’t last long and so decided to enjoy it while it lasted.

    Closing the door behind her, she walked to the far corner of the room to a desk that sat next to one of the open windows. Safety precaution. Her dad’s voice rang inside her head. She sighed. “Yeah, yeah.” She muttered, sitting down at the desk and slipping her tail through the convenient hole in the chair back.
It annoyed her much of the time, how concerned he was for her. She had never gotten hurt by anyone wanting to try something and those who did try eventually gave up because they just couldn’t do anything. Still, she was grateful for the freedom he gave her. It was her who vied for attending school outside the home once her mother had died. She knew he couldn’t home school, stubborn as he was not to admit it. They had prayed about it and he finally conceded, being very edgy and scrutinizing at first, but relaxing as time went on. She was grateful to have him as a father.

    Tar smiled at the thought and looked towards the door. She thought, for a moment, about sitting closer so she could see who would walk through first before they actually got there.

    Nah, let it be a surprise.

    She pulled out a notebook and pen, and began writing.

Juliette gathered up her overstuffed bag from the trunk of the car she had borrowed to drive all the way to Westchester. This was the first school on her list, New Rochester, or something along those lines. Her mind had gone almost completely blank during her drive there. Was she on time? She had no idea. The email she had received seemed distant, an unattainable memory in the back of her mind.

When she had been first presented with the idea of speaking to a class of high schoolers about first aid, she had jumped at the chance. If only someone had done that for her when she was a student, she reasoned. Now, however, she was shaking in her skin. Were teachers this nervous? Surely she shouldn't be since she was somewhat successful and had been out of high school for years, but it was still nerve racking to go back. Sure, she talked one on one with teens all the time, but that was different. It was easier to exert authority over one injured teen than an entire class of healthy ones.

Technically, it should have been a government or public health worker going in, but with such a divisive topic the hospital opted for someone with a more... Personal perspective on the matter. And, somehow, someone had found out about her mutation and volunteered Juliette, which she was initially excited about. Initially.

She took a deep, extended breath to steady her nerves and increased heart rate as she swerved through the crowds and into the doors. A moment of panic plagued her as she tried to remember the room number she was supposed to be in. The moment quickly passed and she made her way to the designated area.

She took a good look around the classroom. So far, there was only one student sitting down. She was near the window, sitting with her notebook, and very clearly a mutant. Good. That was good. At least one of them would take something from her talk.

Juliette dumped the huge bag of supplies on the desk at the front with an awkward bang that reverberated off the walls. She winced, probably not a great way to start. Maybe Memo would help to take some of the attention off of her.

Memo... She glanced at the door. Would he remember to show up? She had texted him multiple reminders including one only half an hour ago. Hopefully he would find it or the talk would definitely lose some of its... Potency.

Juliette waited a second for the class to file in before starting with her lecture. "Hi, I'm Juliette and-" she was cut of by the bell; a rookie mistake. Cue second wince. This was not going as well as she hoped.

"I'm Juliette," she started again, "and I'm a nurse from New York. I'm here to spend this class giving you an overview of useful first aid that you can use. Can anyone tell me when you might use first aid?" Good. Start with a question. Shift the attention off of her for a bit.

She glanced at the door again, praying to see Memo's striped face.

Tar jumped at the sound of a loud "bang!" that reverberated through the room. She looked up from her writing, momentarily panic-stricken. Thoughts flashed through her mind of being too into her writing and her father's voice warning her to be aware of her surroundings. Her body was tense, ready to react to whatever was happening.

She calmed when her eyes spotted the brunette woman standing at the desk wincing at the sound she had just made and the cluster of medical supplies that had spilled out. Tar relaxed and put her hand over her chest.

Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! What were you thinking, Tar?

She shook her head and put away her notebook. Then a thought occurred to her and she pulled out her class schedule. Her first class was supposed to be history.

Am I in the wrong class?

 Her brow furrowed. She looked again at the desk of supplies as students began to file in. She noted their odd looks towards the desk (and a few at her) and found some comfort in the fact that she wasn't the only one wondering what was going on.

The teacher (at least that;s what Tar guessed her to be), began to introduce herself and was cut-off by the bell. She winced again. Tar raised an eyebrow.

Maybe she doesn't even know what she's doing.

The teacher began again (Tar noted she didn't use a prefix, but just her first name) and then introduced herself as a nurse and first aid as the topic.

Ah. Guest speaker.

Tar then began to feel sorry for the lady. She was obviously nervous and kept glancing at the door for some reason. When she asked a question, Tar raised her hand. Maybe she could help this lady get the topic moving...

When Juliette's first bunch of reminders came through, Memo's phone was sitting in the pocket of his jacket on its hook on the back of his door at home.

He was at work, at least until he realized he didn't have his phone and wrote on his hand to run home on his next break to get it. He nearly forgot, but halfway through that short break he realized he hadn't set his usual end-of-break alarm and went hunting for his phone... at which point he noticed the note on his hand and sprinted home.

It was covered in text messages, with the most recent maybe five minutes ago. From Juliette? He was supposed to be -

OH. The full memory of walking in the park with blood and froyo crashed between Memo and the current world, and though by the end he remembered where he was supposed to go and why, it had taken a few minutes.

He was going to be late! Memo kicked off his work boots, shoved his feet into his runners, ditched his vest in favour of the jacket that had held his phone, and was running before his door finished closing (unlocked, but then he'd also left his keys in his vest, so.... no harm no foul?)

He ran flat out the entire way, phone calling out directions as he sprinted past the scattered morning pedestrians. He checked his messages whenever he had to stop for a crosswalk light, reminding himself of why and therefore forgetting how tired, and honestly made pretty good time.

He still careened down the school hallway a few minutes late, hair super skewed (or at least as much as the almost-kinked fluff would ever show), but hey, he'd made it!

...now, which room was it- there she was!

Memo strolled into the room as if he hadn't just run flat out for however long (since, as far as his body was concerned, he hadn't) and totally didn't think about what was happening with his actual paid job. Y'know, the one he'd ditched without warning.

To Juliette's surprise, it was the girl she had first noticed when she walked in that put her hand up to answer the question. It was strange, actually. When she was in high school she could remember wanting to stay low and in the background, and her mutation wasn't even physical. She silently commended the girl for her bravery.

"Yes?" She nodded to the girl expectantly. "I don't know anyone's name, sorry," she explained, silently hoping the girl would tell her so she would know at least one.

Shoot... Was Juliette supposed to be doing the attendance? Did they even have that anymore? Well, no one had told her one way or the other, so some kids may or may not be getting marked absent. It probably would have helped her with the whole name situation, though.

Before the girl had the chance to answer, the door burst open. Standing behind it was a slightly ruffled Memo. Juliette smiled widely at him. He had made it! Only a few minutes late, too.

She turned to the startled group of students in front of her and did her best to calm their nerves and explain the sudden arrival of a random man in their class. "Sorry guys, I forgot to mention, this is my assistant... Of sorts... Memo. He'll be helping out with some of the demonstrations." Yes, Memo was going to be a very helpful addition. Especially because of his visible mutation and their difficult topic. As much as Juliette could sympathize with a lot of the trials and tribulations of being a mutant, a visible mutation was not one of them.

Juliette then focused her attention back on the lesson and tried to act like she had everything under control. She had to seem a bit cooler somehow... She had an idea. Juliette walked over to the desk and leaned against the side. Yes, that was the cool teacher move. Or, at least, it would have been if she hadn't knocked over a mug of pencils. Her face flushed as she turned around and tried to get everything back inside of it. An awkward silence fell over the room as she did. 

When she was finished, Juliette coughed once and pointed to the girl by the window, saying nothing to aknowledge her mishap.

The nurse pointed to Tar and awkwardly asked her name.

Poor lady.

Tar opened her mouth to reply when the door to the classroom burst open, Tar jumped a second time, and in strolled a somewhat disheveled...very tattooed...guy.

"Sorry guys," said the nervous nurse, "I forgot to mention, this is my assistant... Of sorts..."

Of sorts?

"...Memo. He'll be helping out with some of the demonstrations."

Tar just stared at the two with wide eyes, raised eyebrows and a slightly open mouth. Then the nurse tried to act cool and wound up being clumsy. This broke Tar's "ah...what?" look and Tar had to stifle a snicker and look down to hide her smile. Not because she thought the lady a fool, but because she had seen her dad do the same thing a million times over and he always played into it, turning it into a goofy display and making Tar laugh as a result. He had always laughed at himself and taught her to do the same. She had certainly had her share of oops moments as well. But she understood the embarrassment so tried not to let her amusement show.

Gaining control, she looked back up just in time for the nurse to clear her throat and point to Tar.

"Tarissa Rain," Tar answered with a smile, hoping the end of a good-natured giggle hadn't escaped the first part of her name. Her smile dropped however as her awareness alerted her to a couple students a few seats away whispering to each other and casting glances at the newcomer and Tar. She had seen what they looked like and where they were without even looking. She had heard what they said and didn't like it.

Jerks.

Nevertheless, Tar ignored them and answered the lady's first question.

"You might use first aid to treat minor injuries such as a sever cut or scrape, but nothing major like a serious car accident."

Tar clamped her mouth shut, her hands gripping the edge of her desk. She willed her face not to display the shock she felt at the last part of her statement escaping her lips.

Where had THAT come from?

She knew the answer to that.

Okay, Tar, just forget it. Don't think about it, Pay attention. This tea- uh, nurse needs help. Help her to make things go more smoothly. Lord, please help me to be a help to her and not a hindrance.

Calming herself, Tar cleared her throat as if some phlegm or something had got caught there and would thus explain her subtle behavior.

"Or if you choke on your own words," another student chimed in. It was a skinny, brown-haired kid who was looking at Tar and smiling. He was five feet away, on the edge of her awareness. As the class rung out with laughter, Tar swung her tail to point away from the boy. His image melted into a formless blob in her mind. As the laughter continued, Tar turned her eyes to the ceiling and shook her head.

Same kids no matter where you go.

Assistant! He was introduced as her assistant! That made Memo grin, flashing a gloved thumbs-up at the kids as he closed the door behind himself and moved to the corner behind Juliette. He'd actually remembered to wear gloves for work, and today his hands were covered in thin grey fabric decorated with yellow dinosaurs.

From his casual background spot, Memo glanced over the mixture of students, vaguely reminded of his half-forgotten high school days. Tons of apparent non-mutants, that hadn't changed. There hadn't been an undeniable visible mutant in most of his classes though, not that he remembered. His visibility had come after he'd graduated, and really very recently even if it usually felt like he'd looked as he did now forever. The pictures of him as a long-haired kid his mother still had stashed away just felt like someone had photoshopped his markings away.

He also had the casual advantage of being mistaken for a heavily tattooed human - and the immortality to survive an act of anti-mutant violence.

Memo's near-eternal casual happiness faded a bit at the whispers and glances. Did kids really not realize how obvious their every action was from up here? Like, seriously. He could see everything, and if he knew who any of these kids were, or would remember why, he would have taken notes on all of them so they could have a little re-education. The girl actually willing to answer Juliette, the one with blue skin and hair that reminded him of a lighter, longer version of his (and a tail), didn't seem to be too shaken, though, so since he was the assistant and not the one in charge he kept his mouth shut and just nodded reassuringly at her. At least, he hoped it was reassuringly.

The murmurings from the class had grown loud enough to hear from the front. There was one boy that obviously thought he was being especially funny with his horrible comment, but comments like that against mutants were exactly why she was there. Juliette glanced at the girl who had spoke, noticing her reaction. She was taking it well, actually. Better than Juliette would have. Courageous would definitely be a word she would use to describe her.

She shot a glare at the boy that had spoken, trying to silence the class. It worked after a second, with a hush falling over the room. Well, she had lost any chance of being the cool guest speaker now. "Well, yes, technically you could use first aid to help someone choking, though I'm sure most people don't choke on words. You must have experienced it yourself, then, obviously."

A chorus of 'ooh's' came from the students around the boy. It hadn't been all that much of a clever comment, but Juliette guessed that teachers probably didn't call him very often.

"That's right, Tarissa," she turned back to the girl by the window. "Although many of the things you'll learn could come in handy in the case of a car accident. While it's not going to do as much as surgery, the first responder could be the difference between life and death. That's why it's so important that everyone at least has a basic knowledge of the topic; especially with the increased violence in the New York area of late."

She glanced at Memo, running through the list he had given her in her mind. "Let's start with something simple, like cuts and scrapes. The first step is to clean the wound with water. Then, you need to stop the bleeding. If it's not very deep, then it will usually stop in its own, but sometimes it needs a bit of pressure. Usually, a clean cloth or bandage work best.

Next, you would clean the wound. Make sure that any debris or dirt is out, and then apply some rubbing alcohol. Then you can use some sort of an antibiotic cream on top to discourage any kind of infection. Finally, you want to cover the wound. A gauze bandage works best, especially if the cut is deep."

Juliette had fallen into a bit more of a rhythm by that point. She always felt much more comfortable when talking about something medical. She opened her bag and rummaged through her supplies, pulling out all the items she had mentioned before.

"Alright, so Memo's going to give me a hand in a little bit of a demonstration now. If anyone's at all squeamish, you may want to wait in the hallway for a little bit. It is pretty... Realistic. Does anyone want to volunteer to go through the steps I just mentioned?"

Tar hesitated. She appreciated the silent defense and moreso a teacher who wasn't taking any kind of bullying from a smart-alec student. But Tar didn't want to draw unnecessary attention to herself. It was easy enough to do that without even trying. It's not that it bothered her all that much. It was just the smarter thing to do. Normal average everyday attention was fine. But there was no reason to put herself in the spotlight anymore than she already was. Plus, the nurse was clearly into her flow, so there was no reason to help her along.

But then she noticed the nervous glances, and lack of raised hands. She breathed out a sigh and rolled her eyes.

Fine. Guess I'll have to blaze a path.

Without a word, she stood up and walked to the front of the class, her hands in the pockets of her jacket, and stood next to Juliette. She didn't even look at the rest of the class. She just stood there waiting for the demonstration to begin so it could end and she could sit down again, her impatience at the students' behavior clearly displayed on her face.

Juliette's practiced speech drifted around Memo's ears like the fluff of his hair when he was wearing his favourite hat, since it pressed his hair down over his ears more than it would do on its own. It was interesting, but Memo would be more likely to remember it if it were something he could make effective use of and was doing. Mostly doing. He remembered things he did in so much more detail than things he simply heard, since the latter's memories got so cluttered with what he was feeling or doing at the time. Existing took up a lot of space.

That was his name! His turn was coming up! Memo went to roll up his sleeves, found himself to be wearing a t-shirt but finished the motion anyway, and then carefully peeled off the glove from one hand. He tucked it into his pocket. All ready!

The girl who had stood out stood up when the class hesitated for so long that Memo nearly forgot that Juliette had asked for a volunteer. He smiled at her as she approached, for now still forgetting that he was about to seriously, if temporarily, injure himself and be in severe pain and whatnot.

"Ready?" he asked jauntily. "I'm pretty sure the janitor isn't."

Ambiguous warning aired, Memo tapped his bare hand against a patch of marking-free skin on his opposite forearm. A certain shiny black streak along the side of his hand turned white, and the skin split open as if a knife were just now sliding through it.

Cue the mess, and the near-blinding pain.

There was an uncomfortable silence following Juliette's question of a volunteer. Each of the students avoided her eyes as she scanned for any raised hands. After a moment, Tarissa raised her hand again. She looked reluctant, which Juliette understood completely, but she was grateful nonetheless.

Wordlessly, the girl came and stood beside her with her hands in her pockets. "Great," Juliette smiled, trying to look as if all of the students hadn't just confirmed her fears of her lesson being boring. "Just stand here."

>>"Ready? I'm pretty sure the janitor isn't."

Juliette watched as the line on Memo's hand split open and began to spurt blood, just like it had in the park. Gasps and a few screams erupted from the class behind her as the students watched in horror. In hind sight, Juliette realized that it may have been just a bit too realistic for a high school class. Too late to do anything about it now, though, she noted. She stepped closer to the desk, making a show of the items she had gotten ready for the demonstration.

"Do you remember what I said to do first?" She asked Tarissa.

Tar scrunched her eyebrows at Memo's statement.

What-

That was as far as she got. For as soon as the thought entered her mind, Memo slapped his skin, the wound opened up, and Tar's eyes went wide.

"Whoa," she said, moving closer and peering at the wound. "How did you..."

She had expected Juliet to pull out a scalpel and make a minor cut on Memo in place where there was a hidden bloodpack or something like that. But Juliet hadn't moved. Tar glance at her at her question, then looked back to Memo. His face was showing signs of pain. The blood was gushing from the wound and dripping onto the floor.

Wait. This is a demonstration right? This isn't real. No, it couldn't be real. He couln't really be bleeding, could he?

More blood was spilling. Memo's face was contorted in pain. Tar's eyes again went wide.

Oh no! He's really bleeding! What did she say? Dag! I can't remember! Gauze! Gauze pad! Apply pressure!

In a rush, Tar turned to the desk and grabbed a fistful of gauze pads, then jumped over to Memo, and used her free hand to grab his wounded hand around the thumb area. She then slapped the gauze pads over his wound with her other hand and squeezed. She gripped his hand firm, applying as much pressure as she could without squeezing the life out of it. She felt the blood seeping through the pads. She felt the warm, sticky liquid touching her palm and his skin touching her other hand. She looked to Memo's face, ready to catch him should he collapse. She looked to Juliette, trying desperately to figure out what was going on.

PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN

Was this a bad idea? Maybe, but he'd agreed to it and he'd felt worse. He just couldn't think too closely about what had felt worse, or try to distract himself, because then he'd stop bleeding or break a bone or something, and that wasn't the point of this lesson. He had to just endure the pain but OW

Still, he could clench his other hand into a fist and focus on breathing. He had to stay aware of his hand, blood running freely down his elbow now and onto the floor, but with the right balance he could keep from reacting so strongly that the volunteer student wouldn't be able to do what she'd volunteered for.

It worked reasonably well until the student grabbed his hand with her bare hand. Three separate markings, all small ones little more than darker dashes against his skin, blinked white.

A moment of torn skin - the aching muscle cramps of written exams that just kept going and going, always more pages, he'd already killed one pen and his back up was starting to sputter but it was his last exam and then he was free forever - the press of someone else's hand in his, skin on skin with no memories getting tangled in the way, the smell of his first boyfriend, back when everyone said girls had to date boys so he'd tried it with his best friend at the time -

The tangle of overlapping, confused memories faded and Memo opened his eyes with a little shake to his head. What was he- he was in a class. That was that nurse - oh, first aid demonstration. Memo gave his head a slightly stronger shake and shrugged off the disorientation of living unrelated moments in abrupt succession.

Wait, he wasn't bleeding anymore, was he? %^&* that was too early. Where had he been bleeding? Same place as when he'd first met Juliette. Side of the hand, where that panicking would-be-mugger slashed him. Triggering memories from inside his head was hard sometimes, but with a moment's focus he was able to relive the moment, and the remembered wound opened again.

The student was probably panicking by now, wasn't she? Never mind the rest of the class. Memo raised his free hand and gave the class a thumbs-up over his head, and tilted his head to whisper to the volunteer. "You're doing good, just maybe try not to touch any of my other markings with your skin," he said gently, a band of humour woven through his voice with the traces of renewed pain that had his jaw set and all the muscles in his forearm tensed.

Juliette watched carefully as Tarissa panicked, obviously trying to remember what to do. She bit her lip as her eyes then fell on Memo. He looked to be in pain - something that Juliette had neglected to think about when volunteering him for the position. Whoops. She felt rather bad about putting him in that situation.

"Just breathe," Juliette said to Tarissa calmly. "You've applied pressure. What's next? The wound needs to be clean, right?"

She kept her eyes on Tarissa, watching her carefully as she addressed the class. "This is a simulation, but the shock and fear is as real as it would be in an actual situation. That's why it's so awesome that we have Memo to demonstrate something like this. In a situation where the injured person is in danger and pain, you need to be as calm as possible to make sure you work correctly."

She gave Tarissa a thumbs up as she watched her, hoping that she had been reassuring enough to let her work.

"Just breathe," Juliette said to Tarissa calmly. "You've applied pressure. What's next? The wound needs to be clean, right?"

Tar heard the words, but was too busy thinking to respond immediately. She had initially panicked. She wasn't squeamish or afraid of blood. But ever since her mother and brother had died, any situation where someone might be in danger of serious injury catapulted her into a state of urgent action. Her panic came from the unexpected realization of the reality of the situation and her delay in tending to it. But now, she had the gauze on there and the pressure was applied. The bleeding was being held in check. The situation was under control and Tar began thinking about what was going on.

Her awareness kicked in and she saw through her hand and the cloth the markings blink white and the wound disappear. She looked at Memo and saw him dazed. He then shook his head to break out of it...and then was in pain again. Something was up.

Having grown up as the only mutant in a small town, she'd never encountered any besides herself. And since anyone hardly ever made a big deal about it, she often forgot she even was one, or that there were any more out there. This was one of those times and the thought that this guy whom she was genuinely trying to help might be one hadn't even crossed her mind.

"You're doing good, just maybe try not to touch any of my other markings with your skin," he whispered to her gently, a band of humor woven through his voice with the traces of renewed pain that had his jaw set and all the muscles in his forearm tensed.

Tar's brow furrowed.

Okay.

She gently removed her free hand and was careful not to let the fingers of her other hand touch his "markings." She didn't know what was going on, but she intended to find out. For the sake of the rest of the students and not embarrassing herself or these two weirdos, she would go through the motions of the class, acting like this was all perfectly normal, until she was able to speak to these two alone. She didn't like being left in the dark. Frankly, she would have rather let the guy's hand go, grabbed her stuff and walked out in a huff. But she was too determined to understand a situation in which she found herself for something like that. Most people, her dad included, would just call it stubbornness. He was probably right.

"This is a simulation," Juliet instructed the class, "but the shock and fear is as real as it would be in an actual situation. That's why it's so awesome that we have Memo to demonstrate something like this. In a situation where the injured person is in danger and pain, you need to be as calm as possible to make sure you work correctly."

Juliette gave Tarissa a thumbs up as she watched her. Tar didn't respond. She just tried to shake off any look of suspicion and play into the scene.

"Sorry," she said. "Um...yeah, clean the wound."

Her tail being longer and closer, she reach it over to the desk and wrapped it around the bottle of rubbing alcohol and some more gauze pads. Checking to make sure the bleeding had stopped, which it seemed to have in a regular way, she took the items and whetted the gauze pads with the alcohol. She then looked to Memo.

"Sorry," she said again. "This is going to sting."

She the proceeded to gently wipe the damp pad over the wound. Following Juliette's instructions and using her hands, as she didn't need to hold Memo's hand anymore, she put back the alcohol and threw away the pads, got the neosporin and bandages and went to treat and wrap the wound, although she suspected that none of this was necessary. But she would play the part until the class was over.