"What the hell were you thinking?" Locke asked himself, reaching across the seat to grab his backpack. His body was stiff and sore in a way that could only be rivaled by when the cast was taken off his arm and he learned to walk again. Three days straight. That was how long he had been cramped up in that unreasonably small seat. Hopping a train and heading across the country might sound like fun for some teens. In fact his best friend Eaan would think of it as a good weekend adventure. But this was Locke, the practical one, the one who washed his laundry before he ran out of clean jeans, the guy who didn't like magic shows, the guy who was rooted and in reality, not fantasy. This was major, the only thing that could possibly top this would be considered an act of terrorism. Not only did he blow most of his savings on that ticket, One way? Nice, but he didn't even have a plan of what to do next. Somewhere in New York he had an aunt and uncle, but he last saw them when he was seven at a rather forgettable birthday, and he didn't have a specific address, or even a last name. What the hell was he thinking to spend all that money to have strangers stare at him?

Locke hobbled off the train, keeping his head ducked low, because there was no way that the ticket guy, or conductor, or whatever you called the guy who worked on the train would think nothing unusual about Locke being by himself, and found a bench. They probably already were calling the City to check to see if someone had reported a missing teenager. Something told Locke there probably weren’t too many teens on that train with a dead eye. This was no time to panic, even if he was alone in one of the biggest cities in the world, with little money, little food, and a bag of dirty laundry and looking like the runaway that he was. He had taken the train for a reason. Not much of one considering the current outcome. The sound, logical thing to do would be to call Kendra, apologize for running away, and ask for money for a ticket back. Anyone who knew him even a little bit would expect him to do so.

The idea gave him a dull ache though, one that closed his throat. Going back would mean having to wake up each day to strange, knowing stares from his step-mother, painful memories of his loss which in five years still hadn't gotten better, and that silence that threatened to crush him at night once Chris and Mai were asleep. One more day had become his mantra, but it had lost some of its effectiveness as each night pushed on him harder and closer. Darkness was hunting him down and drawing near. During the day there were enough distractions to keep the silence away, getting ready for school, school, picking the twins up and making sure they got supper, homework, chores... Even if he wasn't in the same room as his little brother and sister their voices and laughs could be heard from anywhere. When they were awake, the twins were his light, the sun in the center of his universe. At night though... Locke uncurled a little from his ball to look up at the skyline, not caring that it marked him as a tourist. At night it was silent and in that silence darkness could snatch him up, toss him into its mouth just as casually as someone eating popcorn at a movie. At night silence of death and loss was a moon, drawing out the worst fears in him, like they were the ocean waves. Yes Locke liked his privacy, and yes he was thankful when he could have a quiet moment to himself, but at night silence troubled him. Funny how he hadn't noticed how dead quiet it was at night until one eye was bandaged up and he had more pain medication in him then he could count. He had to get away from that, had to keep moving. Maybe if he ran far enough the silence wouldn't catch him. "Right now you're about as far away as you can get from San Francisco without a passport," Locke continued to speak to himself. Alone, lost, and apparently insane because he refused to do the logical thing and head back, this could end up being OK for awhile. They say that New York is the city that never sleeps. Well living in an insomniac city would definitely keep the dead silence away, and a small crooked smile found its way onto Locke's lips as a car alarm went off nearby. It was, sadly, the most emotion that he’d shown on the trip, other then exhaustion, which really is more of a physical condition then an emotional one given the circumstances. Even the people who looked like this was their usual way of getting to work had bloodshot eyes that had to have pulses of their own just like his.

Locke yawned. New York City might never sleep but for a teenager who just spent three days, traveling through as many time zones sleep was inevitable. He checked his watch, still set to Pacific time. It was seven back home. On a normal night this would mean he’d be giving Chris and Mai their baths. If it was a spicy day at work, like finding someone making mature content out of Telletubbies, Kendra would just be getting back and eating whatever was left in the fridge from his earlier meal. Afterwards he’d would have probably been in his room with music playing as he tried to start on his homework. Occasionally heading out to break up arguments between Chris and Mai. Here in New York it was what? Ten? If he was going to find a place to sleep that did not include pigeons as roommates, then he'd have to start hoofing it. No way in hell did he want to go back so soon. And he would have to go back to a house where the only noise came from the heater occasionally kicking in during the night, and it was all to easy to remember that feeling of dread that the last thing he'd see would be strange shadows on the wall. Strange how the thought of being blind was more of a worry to Locke then being a mutant.

The small smile grew as he stood back up, cold still making him want to hide in his jacket. Mutant. There wasn't any other explanation for the weird stuff that had been going on over the last couple of months. It was the first time he could really think of himself as one, the time he made that little... thing included. In a city of thousands of people Locke was alone and could think these things freely. It was just too uncomfortable back in San Fran to mention it around Kendra, even though they both knew what he was. Her walking in on him made Locke loose control over the little thing.

Henrietta strolled around the New York streets. She was still trying to get to know the place. It was large and a bit different than her hometown of Springfield. Parts of Illinois were similar to the state of New York. It was in the sense that there were both bad and good parts. Of course, there were to most things, but Chicago was more likely to remind her of this bustling city.

It wasn’t that Henri didn’t know better, but she was too trusting. She had been walking alone a lot as of late. Maybe not the best plan for a 16-year-old girl. It didn’t occur to her that something bad could happen to her. Usually, it didn’t because she avoided danger. Her mother had always told her that if something didn’t seem right to her, she was suppose to run. Knowing now that she may be able to fend for herself, she didn’t seem as scared of roaming alone. Her hair could take on most regular thieves and whatnot.

Walking along, she looked down at the ground. She would step over the cracks in the cement. She wasn’t superstitious. Eventually, the larger steps turned into leaps. Leaps she had learned in dancing. After she made it over a line, she did a twirl. People were staring, but it didn’t bother her. She grinned. Dancing felt so freeing for the brunette. It always had and she hoped it always would. Henrietta didn’t look silly when she danced, but she was always afraid she did. She was actually quite beautiful when she would let herself be free.

A young girl on the street began to applaud when Henrietta made a sashay and a last spin. Henri laughed and smiled at the girl. “Thank you.” The girl nodded and followed what appeared to be her mother into an apartment building. They were holding hands, which brought the assumption of mother and daughter. Continuing her journey down the streets, she noticed someone sitting by himself. He didn’t look much older than her and he was grinning. He stood up.

Noticing she was out of breath and a little tired from all the dancing, she made her way over to the bench. She perched on the far end of it and leaned back. Henrietta glanced at the boy out of the corner of her eye and then looked at him. He was just standing there.

(( I noticed no one had responded to your thread and I was thinking I would give it a shot. If I have something wrong, just let me know and I'll try to fix it. ))

The choice to stay had been made, but Locke still was not quite happy. Not that he ever truly was. One could say that he was the type that would say that the glass is half empty, but he would argue that he was just being realistic. Locke was an intelligent sort of boy, and was aware of when things were not right in the world. So, it was all well and good to decide to stay in a city where there was always something going on, but the same thing that would keep back the silence and darkness would keep him from sleeping, at least if he stayed where he was. At this point he did not have much pride. Any place to sleep would be better then a public one. Too many people were walking about to give him any sort of peace. He could feel the crowd moving, knew where they were, even if they were outside his line of vision.

That had been the case for several months now. Locke was becoming aware of things that he had never thought people would know about. There had been an earthquake. Not catastrophic enough to split the road like he had seen in old newspapers, but it was still bad enough to shake part of the ceiling loose in his home. People said that there was no way to predict that it would happen. Maybe animals would have, but there wasn’t even a goldfish in the Tori household. Yet Locke had felt it. He had felt the plates moving, miles beneath the earth’s crust, like how you could feel your foot slip if you stepped on a patch of ice. If Kendra had suspicions before about him being a mutant, that, in combination with the thing in the flower pot, confirmed it.

Of all the things moving only two were of any interest to Locke. The first was rather spastic, as if the source was not moving about like a normal person. After looking in the direction that the weirdness came from Locke felt significantly better about his sanity. This vacation, and that was the way he was going to justify this wild behavior, might have been out of character for him, but at least he wasn’t dancing through New York City like she should be in the Nutcracker. Don’t come near me, don’t come near me, Locke thought desperately. It was more then just not wanting to be around someone who was clearly crazy. She was a girl, about his age, and fairly attractive. He was on the other hand quiet, and a horribly disfigured. Besides which, even before the accident he was never good around the opposite sex. Of course the girl had to plop herself down next to him on the bench. As she looked at him he brushed the hair over his left eye and looked away.

Locke might not have been able to do anything about the first concern, but he was going to have to with the second. The train ticket guy was talking to a police officer. Kendra might not be that close to him. For some reason Locke could not allow himself to connect to her, not even knowing that she must miss his father as much as he did. That did not mean that his step-mother cared for him any less though. No doubt she had contacted to police as soon as he went missing. When someone who is as sound and logical as Spock decides to abandon their family and go across the country, you have to question their motives. If either Chris or Mai pulled this stunt off Locke would be chasing them down himself. It was not a matter of anger, but of love. If you love someone, you want them near you. More then anything Kendra was probably worried about his health. That did not mean he had to like her though.

When Henrietta had glanced at the boy, he moved his hair over his left eye. She felt bad because he looked nervous. Her breathing was still a little difficult. The brunette decided that as soon as her breath was coming easier, she would go. Maybe part of the nervousness had come from the fact that she was randomly dancing around. Henri was just playing. She wasn’t crazy, just free.

Usually she would’ve been scared what people thought of her, but since all of her “friends” lived tons of miles away, she felt she could be herself. What she called friends and what most people called friends were two totally different things. Most normal people’s friends were people who were nice to them. Henrietta’s version of a friend back home, were people who stepped on her and treated her like dirt. They talked to her though. They actually talked to her.

The boy seemed to be lost in his thoughts. She wondered what he was thinking about. He also seemed a bit lost. Henrietta didn’t want to frighten him, but she did want to help him. She didn't want someone to just be sitting around and not know where to go. It would be scary. At least her mother had dropped her off at her destination. “Excuse me. Are you lost?” The brunette wasn’t an expert on the area, but she did know how to get from here to there.

The tips of Locke’s ears developed a pink tinge as Henrietta began talking to him. It was bad enough that she had sat near him. Any second now he was going to say or do something incredibly stupid and or embarrassing. For some reason whenever Locke was around a pretty girl his age, his brain liked to pause and watch him make a fool out of himself. Part of his awkwardness was him being afraid of doing something stupid. He would worry himself until he said something wrong. Locke opened his mouth as if too speak and made a weird gurgle noise. It had been too long since he had to talk to anyone that his voice was unsure if it should be used. Anyone that had set next to him on the train was fortunate enough not to have a neighbor that would talk their ear off. Well, it didn’t take long for him to embarrass himself. “No, I’m not lost,” Locke said when his voice rebooted. He was surprised by it for a moment. His voice belonged to somebody’s grandpa who smoked way too much and for way too long. Even though it had settled at that two years ago it still sounded odd to Locke.

He had not lied when he said he was not lost, not exactly. One can only be lost if they care where they are going. Since the only place that Locke could think that he should be going was his aunt and uncle’s, whose name he did not even know, being lost was not much of an issue. Maybe saying that he was not lost would convince the girl that he was nothing interesting. Not that he wanted to be rude, but seriously, there were things that he had to take care of, like the cop talking with the train’s ticket master, and he really felt awkward around her. Mostly because a girl his age was paying attention to him.

“Act like you’re talking to me,” Locke muttered to Henrietta, as he leaned forwards to study the police officer closer. The ticket master stretched his neck out, looking around the crowd as if trying to find someone in the crowd, and the police officer was talking into his shoulder. By squinting Locke was able to see that there was a walkie-talkie there. He could not be sure if they were talking about him, but Kendra would have probably mentioned his loner tendencies. If this spontaneous trip was out of character, him acting like a normal teen might make him seem like someone else. For the first time Locke turned to face Henrietta. Lack of depth perceeption sucked, but being able to tell where people stood behind him was pretty sweet.

He stared at Henrietta and tilted her body towards her. From behind it probably would look like he was paying attention to her. Truth was he was more focused upon the places where the cop and the ticket master were behind him. It was not like back home where he always knew where the twins were. It was easier to tell where someone was if he was familiar with them. Everybody has a different way of balancing their weight, which means that the individual would press down on the earth differently. Every few seconds he would glance over his shoulder, checking where the cop was and trying to figure out what pressure was from him. "Actually do you know where Central Park is?" Locke asked as he felt the cop drawing closer. It was, sadly, the only place he could think of off the top of his head that was in New York City that anybody who lived there should know the location of.

>> “No, I’m not lost.”

Oh, okay, Henrietta thought, though he didn't seem sure. She had just been checking. He seemed quite nervous around her and his voice sounded weirdly old. It probably had to do with the nervousness or maybe he just had an old-sounding voice. She highly doubted the second option though. The brunette knew what it was like to be nervous around people. She could completely understand that. Still, she felt like she had done something wrong to make him act that way.

>> “Act like you’re talking to me,” the boy said.

He leaned toward her as if they were talking. She felt her face get a bit red. What was he doing? He didn't actually focus on her. Deciding that he had his reasons for this, she began to talk to him. She didn’t mind if the boy wasn’t actually paying attention. “I’m Henrietta. You probably saw me dancing and think I’m weird now.” She stopped for a minute and wondered what he was trying to do. Why did she need to pretend to talk to him? Was he in some kind of trouble?

>> "Actually do you know where Central Park is?"

Henrietta glanced at his face. “Yes. I go there sometimes.” The girl still wasn’t sure what was going on, but he seemed in a hurry and kept glancing around. She wondered if someone was after him or something of that nature was going on. “If you want to go there, I can show you how to get there.” Henri first wanted to know his name. If she didn’t ask, she’d feel a bit stupid for going off with him. The name may not have made any real difference in her safety, but it made her feel a bit better all the same. “What’s your name?”

“Tori” Locke said, giving her his last name. It was not that he was trying to be evasive or secretive. Between little-league practice, teachers, and his friend Eaan, Locke had gotten accustom to being called by his last name. There was nothing wrong with his last name, other then maybe it sounding like either he belonged in the American Revolution, or like he had two first names. Even if it was not his intention to keep his personal information, well, personal, it was still good to go by his last name. Henrietta might not feel comfortable going off with a teenage boy without knowing his name, but Locke was no idiot. These days you would be the biggest fool in the world to give out personal information, especially if there was something different about you. Not necessarily the mutation. Granted Locke had not quite figured out how his powers worked entirely, but he was not about to let the fact that he was half blind allow anyone to try and hurt him. Kendra’s line of work made him aware of just the kind of filth and sick things that go on in the world. Still Henrietta was being way too honest and way too innocent in behavior for him to think she was going to be doing him much harm. “Locke Tori.”

At last Locke could separate the police officer’s impression easily enough that he would not have to keep looking over his shoulder to check what he thought he knew. He grabbed his backpack, and grimacing stood. Until he had the chance to walk off the stiffness from the train ride he would just have to put up with a sore body. The thing that sucked was that it wasn’t the good kind of sore, like he got from playing baseball years ago. This was the kind of sore where it did not make a difference if he moved or not, there was still tiny twinges of pain. He would be moving slower for at least an hour. Central Park would be good for him. Lots of dirt and earth that would try to cling to him, there already was a nice layer of dirt on his jeans. Dirt he knew was something he could work with.

As the cop approached Locke caught maybe a glimpse of nervousness from Henrietta. The teen’s already low self image plummeted. How could he tell that Henrietta’s concern was that he might be in trouble? Locke suffered from the perfectly normal condition of can’t-understand-the-female-mind. A condition that strikes all males of any species. He had the simple mind that he was meant to have, so he assumed that despite his best efforts, somehow the girl had seen his disgusting scarred eye and was frightened by it. Chris and Mai had grown up around it, they even doubted that pictures from before the accident were of him because he looked like a normal person, not like their big brother. At the very least it was shcoking the first time you saw it.

At first, the boy said his name was Tori. After a few moments of silence, he then said his name was Locke Tori. She assumed that at first he didn’t trust the girl, but then decided to. Maybe he thought she didn’t pose a threat or maybe it was because of her honesty. Henrietta knew that trusting the boy may have been stupid on her part, but he seemed genuinely concerned with something. She also could tell he was not from around here. The caring part of her couldn’t bear to watch some kid wandering around alone and lost.

He stood up and grabbed his bag. She then got to her feet. “To central park, then?” Pulling her coat tighter around her, she began to walk towards the park. She assumed the boy would follow, and if he didn’t that was his choice. Henri shivered as a small wind blew. The only negative thing about winter: the cold. She thought the snow was beautiful and she didn’t mind a little chilliness. The kind of cold she hated was the kind that made you start to think your fingers were going to shrivel and fall off.

She continued to walk. At one point, she thought about checking to see if he was there, but if he wanted to talk to her, he’d have to make an effort. Locke had been acting odd ever since she met him and he didn’t really seem interested in what Henri had to say. She had no idea what was going on in his mind, so she decided to give him some space. The brunette didn’t give him the cold shoulder and it was obvious, just some space.

You would think that someone had dipped Locke into the Arctic Ocean, the teen was shivering so much. The weather in New York might not be all that different from the weather back in San Francisco, but Locke was the type of person that would be happy in Death Valley. He detested the cold. During the fall he would begin to dread what lay ahead in nature. Locke tried hiding deeper in his jacket, cursing himself for not having a sweater too. Pretty much on a daily basis the Californian wore layers upon layers. Only on the rare occasion that it hit higher then seventy did he go without the two additional shirts. Winter officially sucked.

Locke was grateful that Henrietta was not asking him a million prying questions. At the moment he was leaning on the exhausted side, and trying to explain why he hopped a train across country was a rather daunting task. Truth was that in spite of his earlier decision to stay here in New York, at least for a brief time, he could not quite describe what got him here in the first place. That was a story too personal, and at points too painful to just divulge to anybody, even if the person was nice enough to show him about. All in all Locke supposed that Henrietta was a fairly good, if a little insane, person. Definitely better then the only girl he had ever dated, and in some ways better then his best friend. Some people just do not understand the concept of personal space.

There was a strong temptation to follow her with his head ducked down. Henrietta had not made a comment about his eye, which meant either she had not seen it and was disturbed by something else, or that she was nice enough not to mention it. For Locke it was hard to picture the former being the case. What else could he have possibly done that would set her off? At least he wasn't dancing down the street. "I'm not a psychopath you know," he said. Locke kept his eyes low, following the legs and shoes rather then looking at the person in front of him.

>> "I'm not a psychopath you know."

Henri stopped, turned, and looked at the boy. She hadn't thought that at all. "I never said anything about you being one. I figured you just wanted some space. Sorry if I offended you or anything." The brunette just looked at Locke for a minute. She already had a difficult time understanding boys, so this wasn't helping. First, he seemed like he didn't want to talk to her at all, and now he seemed upset or something. Henri had never really talked to boys at her school in Illinois. She usually kept quiet as if trying to hide. Boys never asked the Henrietta on a date, or to a dance, or anything like that.


Looking at the boy still, she blinked. "Well...what would you like me to do?" She didn't say it in a mean way, but in a curious, confused way. She really wanted to know. Was she suppose to try to talk to him or leave him alone? Locke Tori didn't act as if he wanted to make conversation. He didn't even look at the brunette. Glancing across the street from their current location, she smiled slightly. "Central Park's this way."

The girl came to a halt in front of Locke, and did so so suddenly that his head snapped up to see what was wrong. Of course the pessimist, (or realist as he would argue), would think that something had gone foul if his guide stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. All Locke really could do was gawp at Henrietta. Somebody who had been walking behind them snickered at the exchange, causing Locke's ears to turn another shade of pink in addition to the hue change from the cold. He might be utterly clueless when it came to the mind of the other gender, but in five years he'd gotten pretty good at telling when people were trying to give him space. At times it seemed like that was all that anyone wanted to do, not that he did anything to discourage it. Privacy was important to the teen, maybe more so than for others his age. Once again the first thing to tumble out of his mouth was a nonsensical noise. Alright so maybe he had forgotten how to talk to people on his trip, but for a brief period of time he still had linguistic skills.

What he wanted to say was that she had not offended him. If anyone would have been offended it would have been Henrietta. It was not entirely her fault that she ended up playing guide to a slightly anti-social mutant teen with a physical handicap, and the inability to string together two sentences without making himself look like the next Bottom. Henrietta could have done the logical thing and stepped away from the walking dustpan that was Locke, but instead she went against society and human nature and decided to help him. Instead Locke struggled as his throat locked up before blurting out, "I only said that because you looked freaked!"

The Californian groaned and rubbed his eyes. New York City's lights burned a little to brightly for him and he was getting a headache. Not exactly the best thing to have when you are tired, getting cranky, and freezing your buns off because Mother Nature likes to leave her fridge's door open for three months of the year. A homeless shelter was sounding like a better idea with every passing minute. How to find one still eluded Locke. Should he just pick a random hobo and follow them, or go to churches? Of course the answer to these sort of questions does not come from a formal education, because nobody wants to tell you what to do if you find yourself out on the street. Asking Henrietta was an option, especially after she asked him what he wanted her to do. Show me a bed, and maybe a hot meal he wanted to say, but pride would not let him say that. Not yet. "Sorry. I'm an idiot. I think it runs in my family."

>> "I only said that because you looked freaked!"

Even if she hadn't been wondering what was going on with the boy, he just made her more curious. He remained silent and acted strangely around police men. "You just make yourself look really suspicious. Otherwise, I wouldn't have been so wierded out, but you kept looking at the cops like you did something bad. That was the only thing that freaked me out." She stood and looked at Locke a little longer. He wasn't good with social skills and it was a little frusterating for Henrietta. She loved talking to people, but she wasn't getting anything back from the kid. At least he's talked a little bit, she thought.

>>"Sorry. I'm an idiot. I think it runs in my family."

"You aren't an idiot. You're just a little awkward." It was the nicest way to put it. She didn't know him well enough to determine if he was kind of a jerk, or just uncomfortable. Henri wasn't the type of person to say mean things either. She had never really said anything horrible to anyone else except her mother. She had started it though. Her mother had been popping up in her thoughts here and there, and it made the brunette mad. Part of her felt bad for being so rude to her, but the rest of her was hurt by her words and actions. Unfortunately, the part that felt bad was quite small compared to the other part.

Looking across at the park, she realized that there wasn't much for a teenage boy to do there. She would've mentioned the Mansion, but she had no idea if he was a mutant or not. There was a way to test that. If she showed him her ability and he had one, he may not be freaked out. This was how she had done it when she met other mutants. It was strange, but they were almost always mutant. Thinking for a minute, she decided to go ahead with it. A small amount of Henri's hair lifted up. It waved at the boy. Even if he wasn't a mutant and he hated them, she could always walk away. Luckily, no one else noticed her demonstration.

“I didn’t do anything bad. Not really,” Locke said, though he feared that maybe he had. Clearly Kendra wanted him back, and he knew that Chris and Mai must be sad to have lost their big brother. Kendra could go suck on an egg for all Locke cared. It was not that she was a bad mother. When she was taking care of them, Kendra was pretty much as great as you could find, and Locke would have to admit that she did alright on her own when the twins were first born. The only problem was that Locke just did not like her. Chris and Mai were a different kettle of fish though. At only the age of five they could convince Locke to do things he might not normally do, such as roll around on the ground, go downstairs to watch a movie, and eat fish sticks with mayo. If not for the twins Locke probably would have left San Francisco as soon as he was on his feet again. “I just…” he shrugged, trying to figure out what exactly to say. That he was afraid that the darkness was going to get him? “I just needed to have some breathing room you know? So I hopped a train, and here I am.” It was more information than he had wanted to give out. Locke would have been perfectly happy to just keep his trap shut, but on the other hand he did not want anyone to think he was some sort of criminal just for getting away from a painful environment, even if it was only for a short time. Call it teen rebellion if you wanted, but the Californian had run out of his ‘one more days’.

Being told that he was awkward was not a great confidence boost. Locke knew that he was awkward. Screw social butterfly, he was the social ostrich, slightly hideous and flightless. At a school dance he was likely to be the one stirring the punch to watch the whirlpool it made. All this he knew, and he did not need Henrietta pointing it out to him. "I know that," he commented apathetically, even if in his mind he was attaching a sting to it. Just because a girl his age had taken the big red stamp saying 'AWKARD' and smacked him on the forehead with it was no reason for him to unlease his crankiness upon her, as tempting as it might be. That was not his style. If someone was bothering Locke he just set his jaw and sucked it up, letting his anger or frustration fume inside of him. Not a healthy way to handle things as he had been told by so many psychologists and therapists in the last five years. They would have him lay down his emotions immediatly. Instead of shouting at Henri Locke looked to the ground, trying to avoid eye contact.

Why is she staring at me again?[/color] Locke wondered. He hoped that she would stop soon and they could continue on into the park. By now his ears were burning and this head was starting to hurt him even more. The sidewalk made a groaning sound, echoing the teenager who once again rubbed at his eyes. For a brief moment he looked up at her, hands shoving his hair up and off of his face. Then suddenly he pulled them away, as if they were hot coals that he had just put to bare skin. Was it because he realized what he had just done, or was it because he had just seen hair wave at him? Locke was not entirely sure. "I really have lost my mind."

>>“I didn’t do anything bad. Not really. I just...I just needed to have some breathing room you know? So I hopped a train, and here I am.”

Henrietta knew what it was like to need breathing room, but hopping a train and disappearing...It seemed a little scary. Not to mention it would only anger her mother more if she vanished all of a sudden. That would definitely not help the current situation between the two. The brunette could just imagine the yelling...

>>"I know that."

She let out a small, frusterated sigh. If he knew, why didn't he try to work on it? Henri felt a bit bad for just saying it though. There were better ways to help people besides saying semi-offensive things. "I'm sorry, Locke. I know it can be hard around other teenagers. I didn't exactly have anyone who treated me like a real friend. It can be rough..." Deciding to venture away from topics that could cause pity, she respoded to something else the boy said...


>>"I really have lost my mind."

"Depends...Why do you think that?" She tilted her head and smiled. Locke had lifted up his hair. The girl had noticed that one of his eyes looked different. She realized it must be because he was blind in the one. Was that part of the reason he had been so self-conscious? She hung out with a fish-boy for gosh sake's and this kid was worried about a white eye? "If you were worried about me seeing that, don't be. I don't know what you thought I'd do when I saw your eye..." Henrietta felt a little insulted. She was never the type to judge by appearances and that wasn't a big thing anyway. He automatically assumed she'd be wierded out or something...

Locke wanted to say that it wasn't just teenagers in general that gave him such problems. At the very least he could talk to a guy his age. He just generally chose not to. It was not like he had never had a friend before. Back in California Eaan had been his friend for years, and Locke knew, though not necessarily hung out with a lot of the jocks at his school. If he chose to do so he could hold up a conversation with any guy. Provided they did not mention his eye, which Henrietta decided to talk about all because he had moved his hair slightly. She wasn't screaming in terror, but despite, or maybe because of her words Locke did not feel that she was cool with the disfigurement. Henrietta was trying to downplay everything, which to the Californian was the equivalent of making it even bigger. Locke clenched his jaw tighter, the bones sticking out a bit. He was not going to shout at Henri, but by his body language he hoped he was conveying a clear message of "I don't want to talk about it.". If it were either one of his little siblings, they would recognize it as Locke's serious face, the one that meant he was standing firm in the issue.

"That's not why I'm going insane," he said, drawing a deep breath and shivering with the cold. A louder groan came from the sidewalk, reminding the boy that he better calm down. More than anything he wished that Henrietta would just hurry up and bring him into the park. From where he was standing he could sense the frozen, and therefore lazy, dirt, which was still dirt to him. Something familiar that he knew how to work with. The sidewalk had something familiar in it too, but he was too tired to try and figure out what exactly. "I'm going insane because I thought that it would be good to jump a train with no destination in mind, buying a one-way ticket, and now I'm seeing hair wave at me." One might think it strange that Locke was surprised to meet another mutant. In some way he was, but the surprise came more from the fact that they were so willing to tell that to someone on a whim. Locke might not be ashamed of being a mutant, and he might not want to have to act like he wasn't, but he had the brains to know that outing yourself as a mutant was social suicide.