“He had better not need to watch out for me.” The girl finally released the giggles she’d held in the last time she spoke.

Even without seeing his face, Twyla could tell that Gawain was smiling, she could feel it in the way her hands rose as his face stretched. A moment later her hands were pulled from his eyes and with a look over his shoulder Gawain proved his girlfriend right. I missed that smile. But she couldn't get lost in it--there were others present. Namely Sam, her teacher and the leader of the X-men--it probably wasn’t a good idea to ignore him.

“I’m good, camp was good.” She pulled her attention away from the smile for a moment to answer both of Sam’s questions in one breath. As she looked at the man with the one eye she could feel Gawain’s eyes on her face and this caused the typical blush to creep across her cheeks. Apparently her boyfriend had been enlisted to keep an eye on the party, but luckily, he was being let off the hook. Good. Soon Sam’s attention wavered as well and then there was hugging.

Twyla burrowed into the boy’s warmth, feeling all the homesickness she’d tried her best to ignore when she was away ebbing until it was all gone. There hadn’t been much contact since she’d left to meet her grandmother, which was also why her being home was a surprise. The Mansion was definitely home. This was where she needed to be. “I missed you too.” She mumbled into Gawain’s chest, hugging him close for another long moment before pulling back so she could get a full view of the ‘finery’. He is dressed up. Her face broke into a half smirk, half soft smile.

Untangling herself and reaching out a hand to the thing around his neck she gently tugged on the tie. “I like this--it makes you look fancy and sophisticated.” She looked at her boyfriend for another long moment, realizing exactly how much she had missed him. “Seriously, you look nice.” The softer smile won out on her face.

It was good to be home.

A dance?! Henrietta was there. She loved dancing. Her and Van were an official couple now, which meant she had to drag him with her and introduce him to everyone. At least that seemed like the appropriate thing to do. Besides, Henri had never had a boyfriend and she was giddy. Not to mention her beau was quite handsome, in her opinion. The problem, of course, would be finding a way to get the young man to agree, but it ended up being a lot easier than she had anticipated. It seemed that he felt guilty about what he had said at the McDonald’s. This made him pretty submissive to almost anything the teenage girl asked of him.

The brunette heard the dance started at 7. She had asked her boyfriend to meet her outside the Mansion at around 7:30. Henri had requested that he be prompt and look at least kind of nice. She was excited to have him meet all the other people she cared about and wanted everyone to see him the way she did. Henrietta was a bit nervous though. Twyla had already disliked Van before she even met him, but the girl understood her friend’s feelings. If someone had made Twyla as upset as Van had made Henri, she’d punch the guy in the face.

Henrietta stood outside the Mansion with her cell phone in her hand. She was looking at it and her foot tapped nervously. The teen didn’t expect the boy to show right on time, of course. The foot tapping came from her worrying, not from irritation. Her outfit consisted of a silver dress that came to above her knees. It tied around her neck and had a gold belt around it that came right below her bust line. She had small gold hoops, a gold necklace, and gold flats with small bows. None of the gold jewelry was real, but it was pretty enough. Her hair was fashioned into an up-do and her make-up was natural, but her lip gloss was a darker pink and had some sheen to it. She hoped that Van liked her outfit alright. The brunette turned and looked at the Mansion and let out a small sigh. She really hoped that Twyla was home to meet Van.

Sam was presently busy with a boy, who turned out to be a couple and Fade watched in silence as the two scampered away together. The attention was on her and the single stunning eyed mutant definitely noticed her outfit. He gave her a couple of compliments, which she was hoping he wouldn't. She didn't ask him not to compliment her because she was embarressed, she asked him to to mention her dress because she didn't want to do exactly what she was doing now, blushing. Normally, anyone who complimented her was received with a simple nod and a smile, but Sam happened to be one of the most attractive men Fade had ever seen, much less worked with. Attempting to hide the blushed cheeks, she bit the inside of her lip. It didn't look like she was biting her lip, more like she was picking something out of her teeth, with a very shy facial expression. Every inch of her body urged her to turn invisible: the increase in speed of her blood coursing through her veins, the light sting on her reddening cheeks, the sudden change in temperature; yet she remained visible.

"You know, you're still the only person who can call me Jenny and get away with it," she said. Since when did Fade become so shy? She was always the tough one, always on her guard, but men sure were different. Reflecting back on her silly blushing, she returned to a straight face only to be ambushed by anther blush threat; he asked her to dance! She calmed herself out of another blush and rattled up the turnstiles in her brain. It was time for her to get out and stop all of this isolation. It was time for move on from Raph and time to set aside everything she once was and become what she needed to be. In other words, it was time to dance. "Not much of a dancer, but yeah, I'll take you up on that," she said, taking his hand lightly. It always made her feel uncomfortable when she took someone's hand because although her raptor talons were usually phased and she basically controlled when they were solid, she was always afraid she would prick someone. Slowlyly, her youthful courage crept back to her and she walked out to the dancefloor, graspong his hand tight enough to not lose him in the crowd of dancing mutants.

"So," she began a little conversation, although it was slightly hard to hear over all of the music and chatter from the students. "You'll have to lead since I don't know how to really dance."Now she was really glad she didn't wear heels, she would have been even worse off with a couple extra inches and her center off balance. Not knowing exactly what to do, she stretched out her other arm away from her body and began the mental battle. Should she place her hands on his shoulders or his waist? The shoulders were always friend-dances, but were rather childish. Even adult friends would occassionally dance hands on the waist. Wait! No! It was men grabbed the waist, women got the shoulders, right? Sticking with that slight revelation, she draped her arms around his shoulders, keeping a fair enough distance. Sam was a taken man after all and Fade briefly met her in Romania, and Alex, if she recalled correctly. She remembered the name because she was under the initial impression that Sam was calling out a boy's name. No, Alex was a woman.

Everyone at the dance was so beautiful and elegant, with their hair all done up, their makeup perfect and their best dresses on. As more and more people began filing into the big room, Amber began to feel inadequate. She had been so excited about tonight, finally having a good reason to dress up pretty and mingle with the other students, but she was such an ugly duckling compared to all of them. Her skin was far too pale and of amount of foundation was going to change that and in contrast to her paper white skin, even the small amount of eye shadow and lipstick she decided to wear made her look like far too much like a walking corpse for comfort. Maybe some people could pull of the corpse look to good effect, but she certainly couldn't. It just made her look vaguely inhuman.

Amber walked up to the punch bowl, poring herself a drink and taking a sip. Well at least the punch was good. Maybe when Kai finally arrived she would feel better about the whole experience, but right at that moment she was questioning why she had even decided to come in the first place. She knew that she wasn't one for large crowds of people and she never had been much for actual dancing. She didn't even know how to dance! The mystique and myth of a school dance had been what had attracted her and now she was beginning to realize that all that was was fantasy, and a poor fantasy at that. Fantasy had a tendency to disappear in a puff of smoke as soon as reality managed to intrude. Much like it was intruding now.

Amber hadn't even been at the school long enough to even know anyone and she certainly didn't see anyone that she actually recognized. Well, aside from the supervisors of course, which she had seen walking around during her brief time at the school, but they didn't really count because they weren't anyone she could consider a friend. If only she had someone to talk to, someone to mingle with, then maybe the whole experience would seem far less traumatic than it was feeling currently. Everyone else, she realized, seemed to be having a good time and here she was, moping in a corner. Why did life have to do things like this to her?

Continuing to watch the festivities go on around her, Amber spotted a girl with greenish blue skin stumble away from her dance partner and make her way back to the wall, very near where Amber was presently standing. She didn't look all that healthy and Amber walked up to her. "A-are you ok?" She tried to make herself heard over the racket. She might even look more unhealthy than Amber herself did and that was saying something.

>>“I like this--it makes you look fancy and sophisticated. Seriously, you look nice.”

Gawain arched an eyebrow at Twyla, complete with a cocky smile.

"I always look fancy and sophisticated." he declared "Besides, you should see the dress Maya's gotta wear..."

He was really hoping he could somehow aviod that part of the evening though. He positivey hated wearing dresses. They usually went with heels. Moderate heels, in her case, but heels none the less. Ew.

Gawain dipped his head to steal a peck on the lips from his girlfriend before he stepped back to twirl her around.

"And you look beautiful" he smiled "Y'know that after a dance camp that long ya've got no excuse for not dancing with me tonight. You heard Sam, he let me off the hook."

He chose not to elaborate on why he had been on the proverbial hook in the forst place. As long as she didn't ask, he was good.

"I'm all yours." he grinned, taking her by the hand "Let's go get something to drink, and you can tell me about your vacation..."

Things you did, friends you made, guys you met.

Rachel nervously walked into the dance room. It had only been a week since she'd broken into the Mansion, so she didn't know many people. On top of that, the dance scene was way out of her normal comfort zone. People laughing and having fun, bright lights, cute boys, loud noises, dresses, cute boys. Rachel let out a micro-chitter, tip toeing forward. She had gone through a lot of effort to get ready for tonight. As 'coon-ish as she was, she wanted friends. She really did.

Rachel had spend the entire night before scrounging through the school dumpsters. After hours of searching and mad creation, she had created her dress out of cardboard, newspaper, trash bags, and held it all together with tape she'd peeled off the cardboard boxes she used, candle wax, and some glue she'd stolen from one of the classrooms. Rachel also had been able to steal some black lipstick and nail polish from various students. Because of the bright lights, Rachel had to wear her goggles, allowing her to not get blinded. Also, because of her mutation, she was able to see perfectly when the lights weren't shining. She had to be carefully however, because Rachel had gone barefoot. Or in her case barepawed, with only black and white striped leg warmers covering the bare skin between her furred feet paws and furred knees. Rachel had also found matching gloves that fit over her hand paws and went up to her furred elbows. An old black sports bra a size or three too big she'd found a few weeks ago in another dumpster in Queens went under the dress, her gray chest fur poking out of the top and sides.

Pulling up her cardboard dress slightly, Rachel brushed a piece of lint out of the fur covering her chest. This was either going to be brilliant or horrible.

Oregon Trail Boy's hair was falling in his eyes a little bit. Katrina could never really tell if people wore that hairstyle because it was the cool thing to do or because they were shy and wanted to hide behind it. This boy seemed cool enough that he didn't have to be shy. Katrina tried to figure out how old Locke was, but she was not the best a guessing ages, and found that age didn't really matter most of the time anyway. “Older than herself” was about as close as she could get.

“I'm a girl, so any excuse to get dressed up is a good reason to show up at something like this,” that and it was sort of her birthday party in a roundabout way. “I'm Katrina by the way.” She waved a cute, girly wave rather than offer her hand for a handshake. Lesson one at mutant high, whether it was actually taught in classes or not, was to be careful about making skin contact with strangers. Even if they were other students.

Katrina rocked back onto her heels and surveyed the dance floor. There were a lot of people who had already started dancing. She wasn't so sure about jumping right into things, though. Especially since dancing generally involved touching someone's hands. She really should have thought to wear gloves, actually, but at the time she thought she'd probably only have time to dance with the people she knew weren't going to melt her hands off or anything.

And she was supposed to still be talking, but about what? The music beat loudly, filling up the silence between them. What was she supposed to talk about? When in doubt, ask about someone's mutation? Nah, too cliché. The weather? Even worse.

“So, have you had any interesting adventures yet this summer?” That should be safe. It was hard not to have adventures when one lived in a mutant school, and everyone had their own definition of 'interesting'.

Alexander had been standing in front of the mirror for the past fifteen minutes. His hair just wouldn't cooperate with him today, of all days. News about this dance had been spreading around like hot fire on dry grass for some time now, and people had all been mustering up the courage of asking for dates. He on the other hand, was going solo. Though it was not the first dance he would have attended in his life, they all shared the common link that he was yet again going solo. The difference between this dance and his high school dance however, was that instead of young hormonal teenagers, you had young hormonal mutant teenagers. Of course not everyone would be teenagers, but it probably still applied for a lot of the people attending.

With no longer looking at his own grimaces in the mirror, he walked over to his closet. It had taken him days to decide what he would be wearing to the dance. His only concern was that he could end up being overdressed. He knew Andrea would be wearing a dress, he had picked it out for her, and it had been quite formal. However it was not a ball gown. The young mutant took out the suit from the closet, and put it gently down on his bed. After putting on his attire, he walked over to the mirror. Giving himself a frown, he realised that he was wearing all black. "darned" he thought to himself. In this situation he decided that he would instead of changing his shirt, which he would have had to iron first, that he would just change shoes. Glancing over his very organized closet, he found a pair of shoes he had bought some time before coming to the school. It had taken him quite some time to save up for these shoes, and they were indeed one of his favourite pair. The shoes were a pair of high men's shoes from Gucci, which he had gotten on sale.

Taking a final look at his outfit, he took his brush and combed his hair. A little dash of hairspray and he was seemingly ready to go. With a sigh he opened his door and entered the hallway. Seeing as he was already running late, he probably wouldn't end up meeting too many people on the way. The dance was supposed to be down in the Danger Room. Though he knew of the location, he had never actually been inside of it. A little part of him was excited to see how it had been programmed to look like. Minimalistic and sterile would have been perfect, and a little champagne tasting in some corner. Of course since it was a school, and most, including him was too young to have alcoholic beverages, it was highly unlikely.

Having arrived down to the entrance of the danger room, he was surprised by how it looked. Though he had wanted something more grand and special, a big school gymnasium look seemed fitting. Alexander brushed a couple of hair strands of his suit before he proceeded into the danger room. Seeing a lot of faces, some more familiar than others, he couldn't see any he actually knew well enough to engage a conversation with. Walking against one of the walls, he saw a pair of high heeled woman's shoes. Looking more closely he saw that they belonged to Andrea. After all he had been the one to make her buy them. Why they were on the floor and not on her feet was a complete mystery to him.

"Just great" he thought to himself as he picked up the shoes before someone else did. He began scouting for anything resembling green skin. Knowing Andrea, she would probably be hauling down snacks or similar instead of dancing. Instead of taking a 'shortcut' across the dance floor, he walked around the whole thing. Hopefully he would find her, before she noticed her shoes was missing. If there was anything he wanted, it would be to give her a really harsh look and hand her the shoes. Before reaching the snacks he noticed a small green woman standing against the wall. No shoes, fitting. Alexander quickly walked over there with the shoes in his left hand.
"Missing something?" He said to Andrea coldly as he approached her. He quickly noticed that Andrea was not standing there alone. A girl younger than them both was standing there too, looking a bit sickly, thinking more closely, even Andrea looked more sickly than the last time he had seen her. Alexander smiled awkwardly at the other girl, hoping Andrea would quickly react and say something about her.

Even when Van still attended school he never ever ever ever EVER went to a school dance. School dances were just so...what was the word for it? Square...very very square. Van preferred not to be square. Also, he apparently preferred not to wake up on time. When the young man rolled over in his bed at six thirty that evening he had a mild panic attack. Generally on his days off it didn’t matter if he slept so late but today wan ’t just any day--he had a...wait for it...school dance to go to.

Yuck. Oh, and “[Insert curse words here!]”

Van managed to get himself up and going momentarily and after the World’s Fastest Shower, and Shave he was almost ready to boogie on down with all of Etta’s schoolmates and...friends. It was a bit terrifying, the prospect of meeting all of his...girlfriend’s peers at such an awkward function as a dance. Only for Etta would he subject himself to such forms of strange and unusual torture.

He’d half to psyche himself up...what was the best was to do that? As he got dressed the young man took one shot and then another of some...of his father’s wares--what could it hurt? The Alcohol burned like bright courage in his veins, making him walk with a cocky stride. Waking up was a whole other matter, so in a fit of genius he grabbed three of the four cans of Monster that were sitting on the counter and chugged them on the subway across town. By the time he arrived at the illustrious Mansion it with 7:29--he’d arrived with time to spare, shaking slightly from the overload of energy drink and out of breath from running from the subway stop. As soon as he walked past the gate he caught sight of his date. Maybe it was the metallic dress or maybe it was the lighting, but the brunette was glowing and Van suddenly felt like she’d look strange on his arm--he hadn’t dressed right...or something. The young man was wearing a light blue cut off shirt that was printed in white with a collar, vest, and tie underneath a black suit jacket that had been his grandfather’s. On the bottom Van wore his best pair of black skinny jeans and a pair of black high tops that only had a minor hole or two in them.

“Hey,” He said when he got closer, pulling Etta into half a hug. “You look all shiny and pretty.” The energy drinks and the whiskey were kicking in--making the smile he gave her all the more awkward for the sugar and booze in it. “So...let’s get this over with.” He sighed and grimaced and then tried to smile to show that he was kidding...and he was...sorta.

Henrietta was facing the opposite direction when an arm wrapped around her. A big smile instantly popped onto her face. She turned and looked at her date. Van looked nice, but still like Van. She liked that though. Henri didn’t want him to pretend to be someone he isn’t, even if some people would approve of him more that way. She liked him just the way he was and vice-versa. The brunette knew she wasn’t perfect, but she could just imagine Twyla ranting about the boy. With a small smirk, she latched onto her boyfriend’s arm. His compliment made her face turn a slight shade of red.

“Woah, you smell like you’ve eaten three pounds of sugar.” The girl backed up slightly to look him in the face. “Were you chugging energy drinks or something?” Henrietta laughed and shook her head. “Whatever helps you get through the night, I suppose. I just hope you don’t get sick from all that.” She looked momentarily concerned before shaking her head again. “Okay, let’s go in. Hopefully Twyla’ll be back from her dance camp. I really want you to meet her.” Smiling, the girl began to drag Van into the Mansion.
--
Once inside the Danger Room, Henri began to search for people she recognized. There were many familiar faces, but most of them still had no name to attach to them. Shrugging her way through the people, she eventually saw Gawain. And there was Twyla, the two of them practically hanging off each other. A grin spread across her freckled face and she began to tow Van along faster. Henrietta ran up and hugged Twyla. The girl probably wouldn’t see it coming, but she didn’t care.

“Twy! I missed you! I’m so glad you’re back!” Henri let go of the blond and backed up a little. She glanced quickly at Gawain and smiled. “Hey. Good to see you again. We really need to talk again sometime.” Henrietta looked up to Van and then back at the other couple. “Gawain, Twyla…This is my boyfriend, Van. Van, this is my best friend Twyla and her significant other, Gawain/Maya. It depends on the day.” If he asked, maybe she’d explain it later, right now, she was only excited to see Twyla and introduce her to Van.

A voice off to the side caused her to jump, and swivel about. She had thought, for a moment, that it was Alex... and that she had been caught red handed with her outfit in shambles. It was not the cloud controlling mutant though, instead it was a rather pale girl. The Greek blinked, and relaxed a little, her toes wiggling excitedly- happy to be free of the heels. Was she alright? She blinked once more, and took a moment to think about that question. Was she alright? She had a horrible headache that was buried under mounds of pain killers.... she felt near naked in her dress, and there were lumps on her head... painful ones....

"I am quite fine." She smiled weakly, and scratched at the side of her cheek. It was odd, having random strangers walk up and ask her questions like that. She figured she'd get used to it eventually though. "I am Andrea, by the way. Who are yo-"

She felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end, and froze- effectively cutting herself off mid question. It was like there was some great, evil presence behind her... ready, and waiting to pounce.... And then she heard it. "Missing something?"

The gorgon squealed like a stuck pig, and wheeled around to face none other that Alex. "Eh... heh... Hi... Alex..." She shrank against the wall, and took the shoes from the coldly glaring boy with a sheepish grin. "I uh... did not want to trip... on the dance floor?" Excuses, excuses... With a weak laugh, and a soft cough, she bent and secured the heels back onto her feet. With three -ish inches suddenly added to her height, she stood again, and looped an arm across her stomach to hold her other arm at her side. The very picture of awkwardness. "It is nice too see that you came. This is...um...?" She turned a questioning look back at the pale girl, and tilted her head.

Emil paced down the hall in her new green dress as she made her way to the Danger room now party room. Awkwardly she bumped into someone near the door as she blushed and mumbled a sorry before passing the person with a small glance back. With the music thumping in her head the heavy atmosphere Emil felt herself feel loose for once, it was odd but it felt okay. Breathing in lightly she walked over or at least tried to the refreshments table in hopes of getting something to snack on.

Really the only reason she was here was because there was nothing to do and basically the whole Mansion was here! She wanted to start to break out of her meek little shell that she created for herself and become a little more adventurous. However it was proving to be more difficult than she thought- add the fact she couldn't dance and she found herself in a lose-lose situation!

Pushing back the unsavory thoughts Emil walked daintily towards her destination luckily not bumping into other students as she got to the table. looking at the spread and taking a plate she took a few potato chips, dip, and some celery she wandered slowly over to a more empty spot on the dance floor and began to nibble on her food, as her pale eyes observed everyone else having fun. Oh well- at least the food was good.

The Californian gave Kat an awkward smile. He had not expected this conversation to happen at all past the whole enjoying the dance thing. It was nice that she had waved to him rather then shake hands, for a few reasons. Not only because it would have been weird shaking hands, but also because he still had a handful of potato chips to eat through. Politeness dictated that he shouldn’t eat while someone was talking to him, which meant that the chips were going to have to stay there until the conversation came to an end. Given his track record Locke would be crunching the unhealthy snack again soon. “Locke,” he introduced himself, doing a bird like head bob and holding his free hand up.

There was a period of uncertainty between the two of what to say next in which the music took over the conversation. What should they talk about next? What does anyone ever talk about during a school dance. At least when Katrina talked again she didn’t ask the repetitive question of mutation. “Adventures?” he asked, and had to think about it, “I guess just being here is one. Before New Years I was still living in San Francisco.”

Garrett stood in his new office, looking it over. He was already late, which was pain enough. Straightening his tie in the mirror, he thought about the droll possibilities of a dance. Mostly kids, few adults. He certainly wasn't going to be checking how close they girls were to the boys. It wasn't a media event, after all. It was just a fun dance. What was that again? Fun. The last time he had fun was....when was that? It was always media packets, investigations, records, paperwork. Yeah, Garrett was turning into a proper old fart at the age of twenty two.

Looking at his manicured fingernails, he took a step back to have a looksy at the finished project. Shiny black shoes, pressed lack pants and white shirt. The collar of his shirt was a bit tight, but his new extracurricular activities made it doable. Well, enough with the ego stroking, it was time to join the rest of the Mansion in the Danger Room. The soles of his shoes clicked on the hardwood floors whenever there weren't luxurious rugs padding underfoot. As his hand slid over the polished railing, Garrett reached into his pocket and retrieved a pair of leather gloves, sliding them over his fingers, stretching them slightly. he would hate to be able to dance with the one or two fully matured women who might be there without them lighting up as a neural map.

A small inaudible sigh escaped his lips as the hall leading to the Danger Room was filled with tweens and whatever the next age group was called now. Kids, basically. His slight intolerance was easily glossed over with pleasantries and smiles. He could already hear music piping in from the Danger Room. This was a good thing, as the lights would be dimmed somewhat and he could work the room in whatever fashion he liked. A few handshakes and he was in. It crossed his mind how pleasant it was to touch a hand and see nothing but flesh and sleeve for a change. He stood amongst the party goers, seeing that it was soda and punch. Gods, how he hated punch.

His eyes began scanning the room. some faces he knew, some he did not. With his new job title,, he'd have to make sure to know all of these faces soon, but not right now. Now was time for fun, or a search for whatever that was. He could see not os little anymore Katrina, talking to a boy nearly eye to eye. That was something.He could also see Sir Gawain and his damsel, cooing over each other. What a pair. His eyes began to wander back and forth, forth and back, until he saw someone who he did wish to speak to. Andrea, who seemed to be surrounded by people. No surprise really. A boy was holding a pair of shoes up to her in an accusatory fashion. Garrett's eyes panned down to her bare green feet. Timing made the world go round, so he moved closer, lining himself up with her general line of sight, but not intruding.Yet.

“Oh, so sorry, I forgot that fancy and sophisticated was your thing.” Twyla smirked and giggled and them grinned when she realized that Maya would be wearing a dress. “I can’t wait to see it.” And she really couldn’t, having never seen Maya in anything similar to a skirt. It would be an interesting night if that’s what she had to look forward to.

A peck on the lips was stolen before the girl was twirled around--she hadn’t been expecting it but she still somehow managed not to trip or look like too much of a goober. Twyla did blush a light pink though from the sudden rush of chemicals in her brain. When the world was no longer spinning (more than usual) beneath her she said an almost shy and very quiet: “Thank you.” To the compliment--he thought she looked beautiful, her night was made.

“Oh, I’ll be dancing--probably in circles around you.” After the ‘you’ she jabbed at the boy playfully in the chest. When Gawain took her hand and they started walking towards the table with the drinks she opened her mouth to say something about camp when she was suddenly charged by something metallic and snatched up in a ninja-couldn’t-see-it-coming-hug. A moment later she realized what was going on and she squeezed the other girl back.

“Henri! I missed you!” They spoke at the same time, their sentence trains colliding--Henri’s won, as she had more to say. It wasn’t until she was released from the hug that she noticed the other...er...boy that had entered their talking space. Instantly she recognized the piercings and the hair. This was Van--douche bag Van--and he was at the Mansion, presumably to be on of her best friends’ date. What? Something had obviously changed while she was away. Something Big, like--This is my boyfriend, Van.” WHAT!? Twyla missed the rest of what the brunette said, her mind just played those words over and over again.

She let herself freak out for a moment and then she reached for and found Gawain’s hand again and squeezed it a little bit, trying to convey her panic. She told her boyfriend about Van, right? She must have--Henri’s story had made her so angry and...she must have--hopefully he understood the squeeze. A fake and forced smile plastered itself onto Twyla’s face without too much effort on her part. “Oh, your boyfriend. When did this happen?” Finally she looked the tall boy in the face, making her best attempt at eye contact. “It’s nice to meet you, Van.” Nice like steeping in dog poop or finding a giant zit the day of Prom. Twyla Ashby wasn’t being very nice herself...and she knew it.