Yes, it was a very bold question, but alcohol had a way of making its imbiber bold. Marisol often had to be told after the fact when people were attracted to her because the whole concept felt foreign and unrelatable to her. Most of those were one-off instances, but Marisol was hanging out with Skye often enough to notice things. She was finally connecting the dots between what Skye said and the pieces she noticed, and it left her too curious not to ask and, in her typical fashion, her delivery was blunt.

The question was met with the sounds of sputtering and choking, leading to a wide-eyed and concerned Marisol. Thankfully, Skye seemed to recover fine, though she was redder for the whole experience.

Skye confirmed what Marisol noticed: she was Skye’s “type.” Was that it then? For other people, were there a few checkboxes that were checked off and flipped some kind of attraction switch? So that seemed to imply Marisol flipped Skye’s metaphorical switch, but then Skye walked it back. They were friends, which was not something she shared with the people Skye slept with. Did that mean Skye was not attracted to friends she knew well? Were they just polar opposites somehow?

Hesitantly, Skye harkened back to their first meeting on the subway. It took Marisol a moment to parse through her tipsy state to recall memories. They weren’t very clear, but she could remember feeling a degree of suspicion she felt. And then Skye admitted what she was doing way back then.

Marisol blinked several times as her brain really took that news in. She looked almost dazed as she accepted it. The out-of-it expression faded into a grin that devolved into laughter. ”So that was what you were doing?” she asked loudly, catching confused looks from guests inside who were in earshot. ”I kinda remember thinking something was up. Oh wow. You thought I was hoooot,” she teased in a lyrical, singsong voice.

Oddly proud, Marisol took another sip of her drink and relaxed. ”Well. Wow, that’s interesting. But I guess since we’re friends now, you’re just not attracted to me like that anymore? Like, is that was flips your ‘switch’ back off?”

Skye felt her face flushing a little more, if that were possible. "Yeah...that's what I was..." She gave a weak smile, and then paused as her friend continued.

"Actually, I still do find you attractive. Like....really attractive," she said matter of factly. "I mean, I'm still attracted to you, but I've learned to sort of...dial that back and enjoy our friendship. Nothing really flips the switch off, as you put it. But the fact that we're able to sit and just...talk about this kind of thing shows just how much I trust you," she said as she relaxed her body language considerably.

"I've slept with a lot of people, Mari. But there are very, very few people that I can call my friend." She smiled, scooting a little closer to her.

"Though I wouldn't mind someone that could be both." The problem was, that last sentence was supposed to be a mere thought, and the young mutant hadn't even realized it'd come out of her mouth...

Marisol was usually uncomfortable when people hit on her because it seemed forward and unfounded in most cases. The people who wanted to flirt with her did not know who she was, so why would they make “moves” on her. Technically, when she met Skye, the mutant fit into that category, but with the benefit of hindsight, that bothered Mari less. In fact, looking back now, it was actually kind of flattering.

Apparently, Marisol was still missing some pieces in how attraction worked for people. There was no switch, and Skye still found her attractive. Really attractive, which made the whole porch feel warmer. Skye was attracted to her, but she thought that was secondary to how important their friendship was. That was reassuring; Mari was fine with Skye finding her appealing, as long as that did not stop them from being friends.

Skye scooted over closer to Marisol and the dancer did the same. They were comfortable around each other, and for Marisol, that was incredibly rare. They sat next to each other and, instinctively, Marisol rested her head on Skye’s shoulder.

>> "Though I wouldn't mind someone that could be both."

It was a fair thing to want, and Mari hoped Skye could have that. She deserved it. Someone she could have that sexual attraction to and someone she could trust. It sounded like something she did not often find, since according to her, one of the few people to meet both criteria was—

Mari felt her heart skip. Surely that was not what Skye meant. There was a sudden, inexplicable feeling in Mari’s core. The younger woman took an immediate sip of her beer. No reason to over think things. Skye was her friend and she was attracted to Mari, but she was used to more “casual” encounters. Mari was not the type of girl to fit the bill, even if she was Skye’s type. And Celeste was the only girl Mari was attracted to so far. Right?

”You will, one day. You’re awesome, Skye.” She was, and that was all that mattered tonight. Skye was an awesome friend. Marisol snuggled up closer to her friend. ”Thanks for convincing me to come out tonight, Skye.”

Skye didn't know why she was suddenly feeling nervous, like her heart was about to explode in her stomach right now. With the aid of booze or not, Skye had just laid all of her cards on the table and she was no vulnerable. Again she was thanking whatever deities were out there that Mari was an adapted or she probably would have turned purple and flash-banged this whole freaking party a long time ago from embarrassment, and then she'd never get to go to one of these again.

Mari slid closer, and rested her head on Skye's shoulder, and Skye gave a warm smile at the feeling as her arm wrapped around to rest on Mari's shoulder. At Mari's words, Skye sort of leaned her head against Mari's as they snuggled closer.

"Thanks, and you're welcome. But..." she sighed. "To be honest, I don't even know if I'm capable of that. I mean...at least with one night...encounters, I don't have to worry about ****ing that up. But a relationship? That's deep...and I don't know...." She looked away, sighing again.

Marisol kept talking in situations where she would normally shut up and get awkward. Now she was just talking and getting awkward. She liked talking to Skye, and resting her head against her, she was starting to think she liked being near Skye in general.

Relationships were a topic Marisol obviously knew little of, unfortunately. Her romantic experience amounted to pining after one friend over almost eighteen years. Nothing ever made sense for Mari, but Skye seemed to actually be scared of relationships. Marisol furrowed her brow as her friend explained how she was worried she would screw up a relationship.

The idea seemed to weigh on Skye, and Marisol could not help but speak up once again. ”I mean, I’m hardly an expert on love, but I think that’s just part of the risk. I’m sure you’ll find the right person, Skye. Someone worth taking the risk for. You deserve it, being so awesome and all.” She was not teasing or joking; her tone was genuine. She thought Skye was incredible.

Marisol would have continued, but she could have sworn she spotted lights moving inside the house. Lights immediately followed by a surge of noise on the other side of the glass doors? ”Hm, what on earth is going on…” The patrons of the party were trying to run over each other to get to doors, thinning out the crowd made up of partygoers who were standing still and…

”Skye.” Marisol felt a sense of dread. ”The police are here.”

Skye relaxed against her friend as she spoke, her words really sinking in with the now-brunette. Though part of her had to wonder if Mari even caught her hints, realized she was the one Skye was debating taking that risk for. She snuggled against the other girl's head for a moment, the hand on her shoulder giving it a soft squeeze.

In all honesty, Skye could have kissed her; nothing wild, just a quick one. Her heart pounded in her chest as she felt her face grow warm. Maybe it was the alcohol, but she was gonna do it. She lifted her head and sat up--wait what were those lights? And why was everyone running?

"Skye. The police are here."

"Shit..." she mumbled, standing to her feet, though she wasn't very good at it because apparently the alcohol was doing a little number on her. "Mari, get down, and cover your ears. When you hear a loud bang, start running, I'll catch up."

Adrenaline pumping through her veins, Skye clenched her fists, closing her eyes and waiting for her powers to kick in. But they didn't. There wasn't even any light. "Butbut...I'm super stressed...I'm supposed to explode. Why aren't I exploding?" she pouted.

About that moment an officer stepped out onto the back porch where the two girls were.

"Shit..." she mumbled under her breath.

Marisol was useless in their predicament because she had never been in this kind of potential trouble before and because beer had a funny way of impeding thought processes. They were not about to jump from the height of the patio to the ground, (not if Marisol wanted to keep her dancing legs in two unshattered pieces,) and the inside of the house was drained of people, so running in would just have them stopped on their way out.

Thankfully, Skye was proactive and came up with a plan to get them out of trouble. Unfortunately, her plan involved using her powers to give Marisol a chance to run. She did not like the idea of Skye using her powers on the police—that sounded like how you were treated like a threat. She also did not want Skye sacrificing herself to let Marisol escape. There was a third thing too, but what was it again?

>> "Butbut...I'm super stressed...I'm supposed to explode. Why aren't I exploding?"

Oh. Right. That. Tugging on Skye’s shirt, Marisol quietly reminded her. ”Um, Skye.” Skye protested her interruption, but Mari kept tugging on her. It’s me.”

Without a mutant distraction, the door slid open and a young male cop smirked at them. “I don’t suppose you two actually have ID on you.”

---

Marisol sat on the steps of the house next to Skye, her heart still racing. Was this going to get her in trouble with her school? Did they expel people for getting detained by the cops for underaged drinking? She could not be the first dancer to be in this position.

”I don’t feel great, Skye,” she admitted. She still had a buzz going, but it was no longer pleasant like it was on the patio. Concern, anxiety, and alcohol did not mix.

The young police offer walked over to the young women, looking at a notepad. “Well, it seems like you two might be lucky. Someone is coming to pick you up.”

”Really?” Marisol was confused; was this just how things went? Was this her slap on the wrist? ”Like, we’re not in trouble?”

“Well… you’re being let off with a warning.” That was good! “Detective Cervantes is on his way to get you.”

Oh. That was less good. ”And we’re sure prison isn’t an option?” she groaned. She had never been in this kind of trouble with her uncle, and at least prison could not get disappointed with her.

Skye just kept closing her eyes and trying to get her damn power to work, but Mari kept tugging at her shirt. "Not noooow, Mari! I'm trying to a'splode!"

"Um, Skye. It's me."

The mutant's face blanked for a moment, and she looked over at her Adapted friend. "Oh....right." At that moment, the glass door slid open at the same time their window for distraction and getaway slammed shut, and a young--rather strapping--officer met them outside. Great...

A little time passed and the house was pretty much cleared out. Skye found herself sitting on the steps next to her friend, and the other girl put a hand on Mari's knee and gave it a gentle squeeze. "That's probably the alcohol combined with getting in trouble. They don't mix well," she said softly. "I'm sorry I got you into this mess, Mar," she whispered.

Oh nice, a warning, but considering Mari's reaction maybe that wasn't as optimal as it first seemed. Her reaction was exactly what Skye's would have been if the officer had said Lee was on her way to get them. Her uncle Blaine would have been ideal because he was a little more understanding and lenient, but Lee...yeah.

"I'm sorry," she whispered again, leaning her head on Mari's shoulder.

The long shift. It was finally over. Jorge didn’t mind staying at the precinct when there was a tough case to be cracked or someone had called him in for assistance with one matter or another, but these days it just seemed to be weighing on Jorge. Maybe it was the fact that there was an evil version of himself running around New York, or maybe it was planning the impending nuptials with Gemma, in either case, the detective was certainly a wick that had been burned at both ends -- and now there was only the shortest of fuses.

But, his day was over. That was all that mattered. Now all he had to do was finish writing up this report, collect his things, and head out of the building. It was a simple enough plan that it couldn’t possibly be derailed.

The final period added and the report was submitted. That being done the older detective breathed a hefty sigh of relief. Carefully he craned his neck, feeling the vertebrae crack with ease. After running his hand through his hair, he stood up and began to bid farewell to his colleagues. It was time to go home and kiss his bride-to-b--

“Wait! Cervantes!”

He cursed under his breath. So close. Looking up, he spotted an officer Bridget Grant trying to flag him down. As the blonde came up to his side he gave her a tired look. ”Grant. Unless someone is dead, I really think I’m done for the day. I’ve already done two double shifts, I haven’t seen my fiance in at least sixteen hours, I just want --”

“Jorge. It’s a 10-64D. A house party with a lot of underage drinking.”

Jorge shrugged. ”So? Patrol can easily handl--”

Bridget edged closer. “Your niece was there.”

***

The car pulled up to the house. Already there came with it a cloud of tired-fueled irritation and disappointment that could be seen from several blocks over. The door popped open and there came the grizzly, tired, and mostly angry police detective. Though he looked a little haggard from his long hours, he certainly didn’t carry the aura of being a pushover. Rather the man that strolled towards the front steps of the house, dressed in hi darkened jeans and his brown leather jacket with the badge hanging from his belt looked to be anything but an easygoing time.

He eyed Marisol, hard before he turned and spoke with some of the responding officers. It wasn’t that big of a bust. Just a lot of underage drinking and a lot of parents being called. They did inform him that there was at least one guy that who was certainly not a teenager and had been making moves at unsuspecting party goers. The thought of that had only served to annoy him further.

After thanking the officer for directing the call to him as opposed to elsewhere, he sighed as he broke away. Head up, he looked over the house, glanced at anyone else whom he passed, before he came to a halt directly in front of both Marisol and the brunette at her side. His lips formed a thin line as he peered down at them, eyes boring into their souls with practiced intensity. Finally he looked away, shaking his head.

”Off your butt. Now.” It wasn’t a request.

Marisol was out of her depth and out of her element, but she was trying to find her composure. It was harder to find a degree of emotional control when alcohol apparently tossed a spanner in the control panel to her feelings.

Making things worse, not only was trouble imminent, but Skye was feeling guilty about what happened. That was the last thing Marisol wanted! Sure, the end of the night was… not ideal, but everything leading up to it was amazing. Beer was nothing special, but beers with Skye on the patio having a heart to heart? It was the kind of night she could scarcely remember having before.

Before Marisol could speak up and reassure Skye, a shadow was cast over her thanks to the nearby street lamps. She froze, reluctantly looking up to meet her uncle’s gaze. The look was enough to make her shrink in her seat. He broke eye contact, but it was less of a sigh of relief and more a tangible reminder of his disappointment.

>> ”Off your butt. Now.”

That was certainly the kind of tone you did not disagree with. Marisol sprang to her feet and instinctively grabbed Skye’s hand to pull her along. ”Yes, Tío,” she muttered dutifully.

Following her uncle closely in silence, she kept hold of Skye’s hand like she was hanging on for dear life. Maybe she could let go and let Skye run off? Nah, at this point, she would just get in more trouble. It was probably selfish, but having Skye there was something reassuring. When the two girls shuffled into the backseat of his vehicle, there was the briefest of moments where Jorge was walking over to his own car door. In a hushed voice, Marisol leaned over toward Skye and said, ”Whatever happens, thank you for tonight, Skye. I had an amazing time with you, honest.” Maybe the choice was not the right one, but that was the past now. All she knew was her night had one amazing highlight.

And now for the inevitable lowlight…

Skye was trying to stay calm, while trying to keep her friend calm as well, but as she saw the gruff figure heading towards them, her heart caught in her throat. Of course Mari's uncle radiated an aura of badass....why wouldn't he? 

Why couldn't she fall for someone with a wiry, harmless guardian for once? 

Lost in her thoughts, Skye didn't really register the voice telling them to get up, but she felt Marisol's hand in hers, pulling her to her feet, so she followed the other girl's lead. Hand in hand was nice, she had to admit, though it felt like Mari was squeezing the life out of her. "It was," she whispered, flashing her friend a slight smile which quickly faded as they got to the car. 

Once in the back seat, Skye took a breath without letting go of Mari's hand. In fact, if anything, she squeezed tighter as she found the courage to speak. Something about situations like this really had a way of sobering someone up, didn't they. 

"This....this was all my idea, sir," she said, her voice starting shaky before finding a dash of confidence. "I talked her into it." Her heart was pounding in her chest; maybe it was a good thing Mari cancelled out her powers. She didn't know if it would ease Mari's consequences any, but it was worth a try, right? 

>> ”Yes, Tío,”

Jorge was not in the mood. As he stood before his niece, looming over both her and her friend, the grizzly detective merely gave the young woman a firm look before he grunted a firm command. They were getting out of here. The smell of alcohol still in the air, the detective wanted to push past this night as quickly as possible. He didn’t relish being the bad guy but there was looking the other way and there was being completely negligent. He wasn’t going to let Marisol slide under this one. Not one bit.

The other girl took him a second. She was familiar. The officer he spoke to gave him her name and it sounded familiar then, but when he saw her face he instantly knew her. She was from the Mansion, one of the students staying there. Great. That was all he needed. Oh well, at least it meant that there would certainly be information on who her parents or guardians were. And if not, he was certain that Gemma would be more than happy to fill in that role and dole out an appropriate punishment.

Once Marisol was up (he caught sight of her holding the hand of the other), the detective turned on his heel with a grunt and made back towards his car. It was taking a lot to keep his composure right now. He loved Marisol. She was his family. To see her making a mistake like this just pissed him off. Fuming all the way back to his car, Jorge opened the door for Marisol and Skye before he returned to the officer.

There was a quick conversation where Jorge thanked the other for calling this in. He was glad that something worse didn’t happen but the disappointment, the frustration, and the annoyance were hard to forget.

Returning to the car, both girls were in the backseat. Ensuring the doors were closed appropriate, Jorge slipped into the driver’s seat without a word. The silence was probably the worst part of it. If he were shouting or displaying any kind of forward anger then that was progress towards eventual resolution. The fact that was he was quiet, a stewing storm waiting to erupt, made the future all that much more terrifying.

He pulled the car into the road and headed away from the scene.

The silence was deafening. Jorge didn’t bother checking the rearview to see what the girls were doing, but instead kept his gaze forward, watching the road as carefully as he could. The silent cocoon was destroyed, however, when the new girl spoke up.

>>"This....this was all my idea, sir...I talked her into it."

A glance into the rearview. He didn’t linger his gaze long upon her but instead shifted his attention back to the road. He didn’t say anything for a few moments but when he did reply with was with a low, growling voice. The kind that made the criminals he faced every day wet their pants. The effect of teenagers he wasn’t sure yet, but he didn’t imagine it would be any better.

”I don’t want to hear it,” he said, firmly squashing any further explanations from her. His gaze returned to the rearview to glance at Marisol before shifting back to Skye and to the road. ”But make no mistake, your guardian will hear about this from me the second I get back the mansion.” A pause, again he glanced at the reflection of his niece before returning to the road. ”As well as your mother.”

Marisol sat, wordless, as Jorge got into the car and got their long trip home started. It was amazing how much clearer one’s mind could feel when it was preoccupied with a sense of dread. She was unsure of what she was supposed to or expected to say in such a situation, so she sat, quiet and timid, waiting for something to happen. She expected her uncle would go off on them soon enough, and she was just waiting for the stormfront to crash.

Marisol did not expect the silence to be broken by Skye chiming in to claim responsibility for the night. It was incredibly noble (and technically true) of her, but Marisol did not want her friend throwing herself on the line just to save Marisol. She tried to hastily add, ”No, no, she didn—“

>> ”I don’t want to hear it,”

The man’s tone was so firm, it stopped Marisol midword. She watched eyes in the rearview meet her, filled with frustration and disappointment. Jorge might have kept them from sitting at the station for the night, but they were not being let off scot-free. Skye’s uncle would be informed, not to mention the school itself. As for Marisol… well, talking to her mother about all this was not going to be a pleasant phone call.

There was a lingering pause before Marisol spoke up, the reserves of alcohol in her system letting stupid nervous words escape. ”Tío, plenty of teenagers go to parties. Skye was just trying to get my mind off show stress. Is that really that bad one time?” For all the fallout of how the night ended, Marisol had enjoyed her night and, creeps trying to flirt with her aside, she had felt much less stress for one night of relaxing on a porch and getting to know someone she really liked.

Of course, she quickly remembered that her stress was temporarily less, but if this party had led to her getting disciplined at school, that could have impacted her financial aid. If not for her uncle, things could have been worse. ”I won’t do it again, and thank you so much for getting us, but… this is the first time I’ve been a dumb teenager; don’t first timers get leniency?”

Skye was no stranger to situations like this, but this was more trouble than she'd been in. And she'd dragged her friend into it. She felt terrible; not to mention Mari's uncle was...scary. Skye sat in silence, but noticed that Mari's hand was still in hers, so she gave it a comforting squeeze. Her free hand pulled up the hood of her hoodie, trying to melt into both the hoodie itself and her friend's side as the situation unfolded.

From the look on the older man's face, it wasn't reasonable to keep talking, and yet...Mari was, so she just held onto the hand. She felt terrible about the whole thing, but she had to admit...up until that point, she'd had a great time just hanging out, and talking to Mari like they had. She felt a sort of....attachment to the other girl. The attraction was still there, but this was something....different. Though she wasn't sure what exactly it was. Maybe this is what having an actual friend was like.

Either way, she had to admit she liked it. Even if it confused the **** out of her.

The safest thing for anyone to do was to just be quiet.The more that anyone talked, the more sensitive the powder keg was going to become. Jorge loved his niece, unconditionally, but right now he needed to be mad at her. She made a stupid decision and now she was going to have to deal with family who didn’t like her. That was just how it was going to be. What else could she expect when her detective uncle was being called in because his underaged niece was caught drunk at a party? Seriously if she expected any kind of lienance, she was sorely, sorely kidding herself.

But as the drive wore on, Jorge could feel himself leveling out. He wasn’t going to let this pass; hell no. But at least he felt like his disappointment and his angry had finally reached a leveling off point. He would be angry with her for maybe the next day or so but he would leave her stewing in silence while he calmed down.

At least, that was his original plan…

As much as the detective wanted to keep things straight, simple, and to the point, Marisol had to complicate matters -- by voicing her buzzed thoughts.

>>”Tío, plenty of teenagers go to parties. Skye was just trying to get my mind off show stress. Is that really that bad one time?”

His eyes drifted to the rearview mirror. He didn’t want to do this right now but Marisol’s attempts to make this appear less severe than it was began to fire off in protective-uncle synapsis in his head. He didn’t respond at first. Instead his gaze gave Skye an accusing look through the rearview mirror before drifting back to the road. Under his breath he muttered, several times, pleading for Marisol to not pick up this topic again. Anymore and he knew he wouldn’t be able to sheath his tongue.

>>”I won’t do it again, and thank you so much for getting us, but… this is the first time I’ve been a dumb teenager; don’t first timers get leniency?”

”Are you ****ing kidding me?” That was it. He shook his head, his jaw clenched as he drove on. While he may have been angry, he was a careful enough driver to not put them at any risk, but it was clear that the young woman had struck a nerve. ”Marisol, you were caught drinking...underage...in a stranger’s house.” He listed off. ”You’re lucky I didn’t let them throw both of your asses in a cell.”

Wasn’t so much a “cell” as a quiet room to allow them to sober up while family is contacted. It wasn’t as if Marisol could be arrested for this, but if news got back to her school? The kind of reprimand she would be facing he couldn’t even imagine. Schools these days were not lenient on such things. He shook his head as he stared ahead.

”Do you realize what would have happened? I didn’t know where you were. Your mother didn’t know where you were. If you have drank too much or been approached by the wrong person...there would be an entirely different story unfurling right now. I know,” he growled. ”I’ve had to help those girls on the absolute worst day of their lives. And that could have been you.” He narrowed his eyes as he looked forward. For an instant Marisol’s face flashed across those memories when he used to be a beat cop; he couldn’t fathom it and his fingers curled around the steering wheel tighter. ”You were allowed to come here because your mother trusted you. I trusted you.” A small shake of his head. ”You broke that. Now you have to mend it. How? I don’t know...” With a sigh he turned the corner, starting the final trek towards the mansion. ”...but for right now, for me? I don’t want to hear another word out of you.”