Mutant lessons.

Jameson wrinkled his nose a bit at the idea as he hitched his backpack a little higher up on his shoulder.

Riding the bus to mutant lessons. Mike had thought it was hilarious, like Jameson should have been driving a sports car or riding a giant moose or something ridiculous. Then again, Mike thought everything was hilarious.

The brochure was in his hand, and Jameson rolled his eyes at the thing. His parents thought it would be helpful...something to stop the jerks at school from finding opportunities to scare him out of his skin. It only lasted a few moments these days, and the other kids thought it was more cool than anything, but still...it was a pain to wake up with your face in your mashed potatoes twice a week.

Leaning his head back slightly, the 17 year old sighed. He'd never been to the Mansion, and had always been vehement that he stay in normal school. Was this a step towards his parents pushing him in this direction? Probably not, considering the fact that he was entering his Senior Year, but the place was still disconcerting. A school full of mutants. A school full of people like him.

Again, Jameson made a face, this time at the notion of needing a distinction there. Were they like him?

The bus stopped, and the boy climbed down the stairs and made his way up the drive. He was supposed to make his way to the main gate and buzz his way in. There was still time to turn and ditch the whole thing, but Jameson sighed, his parents had already written the check for the lessons. It couldn't hurt to try.

Reaching out, Jameson poked the button on the call box. "Um, hello. I'm here for control lessons."

Gina had a habit of running into new students. It wasn’t that it was a job of hers, not exactly, but instead purely coincidental. A new kid would show up, Gina would see them, and as they were not acquainted, Gina would get acquainted with them. It was all very simple, and Gina always enjoyed making new friends. It had grown so customary for Gina to nab newcomers before the actual greeting staff could that, whenever there was a small task at-hand that they didn’t need a real greeter for, they went to Gina. They young gargoyle was all-too-willing to help.

Today’s task was to escort a guy named Jameson Harris to mutation control classes. He wasn’t a student, just… here for that one class—apparently you were allowed to do that. Kind-of like going to a junior college for classes that weren’t offered at your high school, or something—apparently, they were in search of a friendly face, looking for a mutant to show the new guy around.

No problem, Gina said. He had the same name as her second-eldest brother, so that had to be a good omen. She was lingering behind the front desk, hovering over the shoulder of the greeter on-duty, when the voice of her mentee broke over the speaker. The greeter pressed her button, and replied, “Jameson? Hi, I’m a greeter here at Xavier’s. I’ll buzz you in, and Gina will be out to meet you.”

She released the button, and hit another, turning to the gargoyle behind her.

“Okay,” the greeter said, “The new kid awaits. Try not to be so forward that you scare him.”

“Since when I have scared people off with forwardness?” Gina laughed, “Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on the new kid. I always do.”

With that sentiment, the gargoyle jogged out the front door, and down the drive, dark eyes sweeping for her friend for the day. She wasn’t overdressed, but didn’t look like a slob, either—flyaway curls restrained in a bun, jean shorts and t-shirt, simple stud-earrings in her ears. If you didn’t take her mutation into consideration, she looked pretty normal, for a teenage girl. Short, unassuming, cute.

Gina. They were sending Gina out to get him.

Jameson had to chuckle a bit. That’s what they should have put on the brochure for the mutant lessons. He could see her now, making her way down the drive from the doors. She was cute, and small, he decided as she approached. Maybe these lessons wouldn’t be so bad after all…

The girl approached, and Jameson squinted. Did she have horns? And weird feet? And wings?

Jameson couldn’t help himself, he stared a bit as he studied her, trying to work out his opinion. Yeah, short and cute was still short and cute. Still, he wondered if she looked like that all the time, or if it was something she could change. Again, the thought that maybe these classes wouldn’t be so bad.

“You’re Gina?” he said as she approached, putting on his best smile.

“I’m Jameson. Nice wings.”

Gina slowed as she descended down the hill, casting a friendly smile the new kid’s way. He was staring—so, what else was new? The real test came when Gina got to see how he reacted up-close and personal.

>> “You’re Gina?”

He grinned, and Gina smiled back, “That’d be me.”

>> “I’m Jameson. Nice wings.”

First impressions were proving favorable. Jameson had complimented her wings. Kudos to Jameson.

“Hey, thanks,” she said lightly, extending a hand, “Welcome to Xavier’s.”

Once the formalities were handled, Gina gave a brief introduction of herself, “I’m a student here, volunteered to help you out today, since I meet a lot of new kids on my own anyways. What’re you here for?”

Gina knew the answer to this, but was making conversation as she turned, and gestured for Jameson to follow, as she began to march slowly back up the hill.