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As her friend talked, Twyla made a list of given characteristics to this ‘Akshay’ fellow. The blonde was glad that he was nicer than the other party favors that Emerald seemed to have a habit of attracting. Nerdy was also a good characteristic as was the fact that Em felt so comfortable around him. It seemed like this type of relationship was something new for the wolf-girl; Twyla hoped that things would work out for them. People deserved to find people that they could be themselves around.

The young woman refused to let memories of her past relationship surface. They remained in the nice little box she’d placed them in before she’d shoved them in the back of her mind’s closet. Safe and unseen.

Materializing words? Very cool. Twyla made a mental note to pester Emerald about meeting this guy…after the relationship between the wolf-girl and the camouflager had righted itself a bit more. The young woman quirked her lips into a satisfied smile as the pair headed into the shed. She plopped herself into the offered chair with the ease of a teenager, curling her legs up under herself and otherwise making the seated position comfortable.

What else did she want to know? Oh, there were lots of things. Twyla just wasn’t sure how to ask them or in what order. Usually she wasn’t very interested in these kinds of ooey-gooey things. Of course, usually one didn’t just materialize like a discolored ghost back into a social life, missing all the important things between ‘I met this guy’ and ‘We’re dating’. One of her sisters or friends from high school was probably better at making this kind of ‘girly’ conversation and for a moment the blonde wished that she’d been better at talking about boys when she was younger. Oh well, no use in crying over spilt perfume…

“So…how did you guys meet?” She leaned towards Emmy to show her interest, cocking her head to the side and putting just a little too much emphasis on the ‘o’ in ‘so’. That was right, wasn’t it? The logical next question to ask now that she had a basic sketch of what this guy was about was to ask where they’d met. If it wasn’t she doubted that Emerald would care—neither girl had been particularly gushy about this kind of stuff when they’d been closer all those months ago. Twyla was friends with all kinds of girls—Em was the type more likely to defend a friend in a fistfight then go out for coffee and gossip. Perhaps this wasn’t the best conversation to get their relationship on track seeing as how neither young woman was particularly good at it.

Silently Twyla wondered why all of the relationships she’d seen in the last few days had been between mutant and mutant partnering. Back home it was non-mutant and non-mutant. It seemed like a telling separation—who you date represents who you relate to, right? Could she ever have a lasting relationship with someone without a mutation? It was an interesting question that was put on the back burner to boil and be served later.

It felt so nice to be out in the city. Twyla had been back in New York almost a week but she’d been keeping to herself at the Mansion, spending a lot of time in her room and avoiding the awkward questions of ‘why are you back?’ and ‘where were you?’ that came along with returning to the school. She spent a lot of time in cities while she’d been traveling but there was something special about New York City. Sure, Los Angeles had been nice and she’d enjoyed the sun in California but there was something about the dark streets of the Big Apple that said something special to Twyla Ashby. They asked her to prove herself, told her she wasn’t getting anything free, and gave her the chance to test her abilities.

Or she was blowing the feelings of coming home way out of proportion. She had been reading a lot of Romantic Era poets lately…that probably had something to do with how grandiose she was feeling the city to be that afternoon. Brown eyes looked up at the tall edges of the buildings towering over Central Park. So maybe Manhattan wasn’t really the part of the city that wanted to test Twyla, but it was the most familiar area. The blonde had gone for a run earlier that morning and had found that even after the exercise she was restless. It was a Saturday so the school had been especially quiet. Twyla had tried to stay in her room a little while longer but the feeling drove her to the nearest subway entrance.

It really was nice to be out and about. Her hometown had less than 1,000 people and she’d been staying at home since last October so it had felt odd at first, being in the crowd on the subway train. Soon the blonde found that she enjoyed the anonymity. At home everyone knew her business—which is why she had to leave in the first place. New York City didn’t care who she was or what her genes said about her, at least not in its day-to-day. If she caused trouble it would give a crap but until then she was just a faceless passerby. It felt like freedom to Twyla.

Her stomach gurgled; maybe it was time for some lunch. Twyla adjusted her green leather jacket and headed for the nearest park exit. The boxes that her parents had shipped out hadn’t arrived yet so the young woman was low on clothes. A sister school tee shirt had been shoved into her mailbox by someone and when Twyla found it that morning she decided to wear it. A free tee shirt was a free tee shirt, even if the school logo was being advertised on her chest. The rest of her outfit was pretty typical of her sense of style.

I want a coffee and a sandwich… She thought to herself, gazing at the ‘walk’ sign and willing it to turn into the little running man. For a Saturday there weren’t a lot of people in the queue for the crosswalk. Maybe it’s the weather? The day was overcast and the clouds kept threatening to mist on any pedestrians planning on enjoying their weekend. Twyla blew her bangs out of her face and impatiently glanced at the sign again…

Later that afternoon the group was combing through a tiny grocery store trying to decide what to make for dinner. Eating at any sort of restaurant was out of the question at this point, at least that’s what Twyla suspected. As the five mutants browsed the shelves she kept glancing back at Lighter. After their conversation at the beach she’d avoided talking alone with him. For the first time since she’d met the older man she felt a bit nervous around him. Suddenly every move that he made was suspect. This suspicious attitude had been picked up by Flicker and the other girl in their group, Dot. They’d been trying to mediate between them all day, as if they thought Twyla was mad at their leader or something. The blonde did her best to act like she usually did…which was hard because their little trip had thus far been done in a haze. Twyla was starting to wake up and as she did so her role in the little band was becoming strained.

Dot grabbed a bag of pretzels and placed them in the shopping basket that Twyla carried. Her mutation manifested in large purple circles of hardened skin scattered across her body. In public she usually hid her mutation through the use of gloves and a hoodie. She was fifteen and Twyla realized now that there were much better places for kids so young…Her autopilot functions were malfunctioning. Soon she’d remember to worry about everyone…Brown eyes glanced quickly across Flicker and Dot’s backs. They really were too young to be away from real adult supervision. Lighter, the other boy, and Twyla were all over eighteen years old and she had no right to tell them where to be but the other two were just kids. Young kids. They deserved a chance at something better than living out of a van.

Stones filled Twyla’s stomach. There had to be a way to call someone…do something…

“GET OUT OF MY STORE, FREAKS.” The young woman was pulled out of her thoughts by the sound of the store owner behind the counter screaming. Quickly she discovered the problem. The hood that Dot’s used to cover her face had slipped, revealing the purple spots of skin. She held a loaf of bread in one hand for a moment before she started to cry. It dropped to the floor. Instantly Twyla dropped her own basket and was at the girl’s side. “Hey, we’ve got money—we can be here!” Lighter’s words did nothing to help the situation. The other boy in their group stood behind Lighter, backing him up. “C’mon, Dot.” Twyla whispered at the younger girl, wrapping an arm around her comfortingly. As they headed for the door she snaked out and grabbed Flicker by the shirt before he could follow his brother’s antagonizing lead. “Guys, stay here.” She directed after they’d crossed the street. “I’ll be right back.”

Twyla’s instincts took over. This situation was gearing up to go very badly. She ran back into the store. Lighter held a ball of flame in his hands; the store owner held a gun pointed at the mutant men. She didn’t hesitate to put herself between the boys and the man behind the counter. Her hands came up as if to mediate the groups. “Lighter, put it out.” The look she gave him was scathing. There was something new and powerful in her gaze. The taller mutant glared back at her but lowered his hand a bit, not putting out the fireball but looking slightly less threatening. She then turned to the storeowner, trying her best to put a nice expression on her face. “I’m really sorry about this sir, we’ll be leaving now.” Her tone was calming and even. The man behind the counter obviously looked scared. He really didn’t want to hurt them, just a knee-jerk reaction. She’d encountered this kind of response before in New York and while she didn’t agree with the discrimination she understood where it was coming from. Giving this guy a real reason to hate mutants was not going to make the world a better place.

She turned back to her friends. They didn’t look very happy about her promise. Twyla bridged the gap between herself and Lighter and put her hand on the arm with the fireball. “Put it out.” She was shorter than he was so he had to look down at her; she stared up at him, unwavering. This was not the robot Twyla he’d met. The slightly disoriented but cute girl was gone, replaced by someone who was actually challenging him. Like an amnesiac having a flashback, Twyla was a flash of someone she’d tried to leave behind. He put the flames out and shoved past her, exiting the store with the other young man close behind him.

Lighter wouldn’t even look at her as they made their way back to the van. Once inside he punched the steering wheel, making the horn go off loudly. “Human supremist b*****d! He’ll get what’s coming to him—he would have sooner if someone hadn’t stepped in.” A glare was sent in the direction of Twyla. She could feel her standing with these kids rapidly dropping. Things were getting dangerous.

“If you would have gotten picked up by the cops for torching his store who would take care of Flicker?” She replied coolly from the backset, playing things from a brotherly love angle.

“Well…” Lighter’s anger began to simmer out. “We can still pay him back.” Twyla did not like the sound of the promise in those words.

Things seemed to have settled into small talk between the girls. Twyla hadn’t been expecting much else—she realized that things at the Mansion would be awkward for a while. Hopefully she and Emerald could get back some semblance of the relationship they’d had before she’d left and if not…that was Twyla’s fault and she deal with the consequences. Emerald did say something, however, that made her hears perk up. Em’s got a boyfriend? This was new and (as far as the blonde could remember) unheard of.

She peeked at the wolf-girl. You go. A smile twitched at her lips. Emerald was wagging her tail. That was cute. So who was this guy? A million questions burned inside the young woman but she managed to contain herself. She didn’t want to come off as nosy after…everything. It seemed like everyone that she bumped into was in a relationship. Gawain, my roommate, and now Em. How many do you need for an epidemic? These were things that Twyla liked to see. It made her oddly happy to see other people happy with each other. Seeing everyone else with someone almost made the twenty year old jealous in a way but she didn’t dwell on it—she was more important at the moment. Sometimes you gotta do you. Twyla needed to work on Twyla. Besides, being in a relationship sounded like work and she was planning on having enough on her plate.

That didn’t, of course, mean that she couldn’t wonder all about Em’s boyfriend—how they met, what he was like, if he was a mutant, all those things. She made a note to ask her old friend at the most appropriate opportunity. If she was lucky she’d be able to weasel in some questions that afternoon. Gah. It almost hurt not to ask. It was odd, normally Twyla didn’t really pay attention to those kinds of things but she’d missed the beginning of Em’s relationship—all the buildup and everything that she would have taken for granted had she been in New York still. This was Big News to someone that had just plopped back into a social life at the Mansion. Usually Twyla wasn’t a relationship gossip, but she had a lot of catch-up to play.

The young woman was glad that her friend still wanted to talk to her. She almost winced when asking about where she’d been was suggested. There were things from the past year, especially recent things, that she wasn’t ready to talk about with anyone. Instead of showing her discomfort however, the girl smiled up at the taller young woman brightly. At least they’d be alone out on the grounds. “Sounds good to me, I just gotta drop these things off—come with me to my room?”

Twyla led the way to the bedroom that she shared with Rebecca and quickly deposited her backpack and bag of assorted goodies on her bed. Her side of the room was still bare as none of the boxes her parents had sent to her had arrived yet. She’d probably still be living in the things she’d brought in her backpack for the rest of the week. As the pair headed for the shed Twyla picked up the conversation once more: “As far as what to talk about, I think that you need to tell me about this comic artist boyfriend and I’ll be sure to ‘ooh’ and ‘aaah’ in all the right places.” There was a laugh in her voice. “But seriously.” She looked at Emerald expectantly, both eyebrows raised. Twyla would ask as many questions as it took to keep Emerald off the subject of her…er, time away… and she was still ridiculously curious.

Twyla let the comment about not being a coward slide—she’d had that discussion with too many people too many times. Besides, that was Old Twyla. New Twyla had a better handle on things. She wasn’t perfect, mind you, but she had her priorities in place once more. She’d done a lot of changing in the time she was gone. She’d made promises to herself that involved not being ruled by fear and she planned on sticking to them. No, there was no need to rehash an old argument.

The young woman appreciated Emerald’s honesty. Straight up telling her that she was still mad at Twyla for leaving was relieving in a way. She didn’t have to worry about where they stood; things began to align themselves in a relatable pattern. She nodded, to show her friend that she understood where she was coming from. Really it made sense and Twyla wasn’t asking for things to go instantly back the way they were. What she really wanted was to work with what was left and create a new patchwork life.

She wanted to know how things had changed, but saved her questions for after the ear was explained. Emerald brushed it off. Twyla quirked and eyebrow but decided not to push their reunion by pestering Emerald with worried questions. “Fair enough.” Her tone was calm and her expression was apologetic. If she wanted to tell Twyla about it she’d do it on her own time. There were things that the blonde had gone through recently that she didn’t want to talk about so she’d be a hypocrite if she pried. Her brown eyes were curious however, as she glanced over the wolf-girl. What sorts of trouble could Emmy get into in a year? Twyla guessed quite a lot.

The things she’d dropped on the ground were begging to be cleaned up before they got trampled. The blush she’d felt so intensely earlier faded away as she looked at her shampoo and candy. They reached up with their imaginary arms, wanting to be back in a bag. Stooping down, Twyla acquiesced to their silent request. Looking up at Em she asked: “Anything exciting I should know? How’s…your life been, I guess.” Her voice was bright and curious. She hoped that things had been going well for Em like they’d been going well for Twyla before her boss and then community found out about her mutation.

It only took a few seconds for everything to be safely back in the paper bag. Twyla stood up and brushed off her knees. “I should drop this stuff in my room—do you want to head somewhere to catch up properly?” Her smile was hesitant, unsure if Emerald would want to have that kind of chat so soon or if she was too upset by Twyla’s sudden reappearance to have an old-friend-like conversation. Either way Twyla was content with how things had gone thus far. She’d been expecting everything she got. Perhaps she’d be able to work up the courage to ask Emerald to forgive her one day. That day was not the right time, obviously, but it was something to think about.

And there it was. The question you’ve all been dying to hear the answer to folks: “Twy, if you were so overwhelmed then why didn’t you ask for help?” It echoed all of the questions that her family had asked when she ran away from home due to her mutation and then the ones they asked when she came back from running away from the Mansion. It was the Burning Question, the one that would unlock her entire reasoning for every majorly bad decision she’d ever made. The problem? Twyla Ashby didn’t have a suitable answer to it. No matter how many different ways she framed a response in her mind the answer wasn’t good enough. She understood her reasoning about as well as the bottle of shampoo she’d dropped did.

She watched as Emerald’s body language became more strained. Twyla almost took a step back in response but held her ground, listening to the questions and the accusations with a look of calm determination on her face. She wouldn’t interrupt—her friend needed to get these feelings out. Twyla wished she hadn’t waited so long to come back. Ripping off old Band-Aids from year-old wounds was never a fun experience. The girl forced herself to watch the emotions rolling over the wolf-girl’s face. She couldn’t totally understand what Em was going through but she did her best to take in as much of it as possible.

”What’s done is done right?” The way the other girl looked made Twyla reach out to pat her arm subconsciously. She nodded at her last words, paused, and then shook her head. “It doesn’t have to be so final as that. What’s done is done but that doesn’t mean new things can’t overwrite the old.” She wasn’t sure if she was talking to herself or the other woman more. Shaking her head again she responded to the first question: “To be honest, I don’t know exactly why I left. It’s obvious now that things would have worked out if I’d talked to someone—figured out my issues but at the time…” Thin shoulders shrugged, she was at a loss. “I don’t know why it didn’t seem like an option. I think it was cowardice.” She added the last bit in an almost whisper, shame crawling around in her stomach. Admitting these feelings aloud made her feel slimy and weak.

Emerald ducked some hair behind her ear. It looked scarred up, like it had been mangled. Instantly brown eyes narrowed. Twyla’s face assumed an all too familiar worried-mother position—the face reserved for Mirror and Emerald when they got hurt. She hadn’t used it in ages but it popped on her face out of habit. “Em, what happened to your ear?” Her tone was not hesitant as it had been when she tried to explain herself. Twyla sounded like her old, concerned, and stubborn self. The tone demanded an explanation, all history forgotten.

Without thinking the blonde took a step forward to get a better look at the damage. She could tell that it was an older mark. An eyebrow shot up and her curiosity and worry were piqued. When had it happened? What had her friend gone through while she’d been away battling her own demons? Was it her place to even ask about the ear…it had been so long…

I have issues. This was not a new idea to Twyla but she thought it needed to be reinforced. She didn’t think she was responding to the change in events in the correct manner. Was it appropriate to be obscenely happy that your ex had a new girlfriend? Yes/no/maybe/dear-God-what-is-wrong-with-you? This was the blonde’s only experiences with an ex-boyfriend so she really had no baseline to compare it to. He introduced the girl as ‘my girlfriend Ami’ and a weird bubble of relief and happiness popped inside of the girl, relaxing her shoulders and softening the smirk to a more usual-Twyla smile. She’d been right about the attachment level. It was cute.

Brown eyes quickly gave Ami the up-down. Yep, she was pretty and didn’t seem likely to attack Twyla in some kind of girlfriend-meets-ex-girlfriend-rage (was that to be expected?) so the twenty year old decided that her first impression of the shorter girl was a positive one.

This was good. However badly she’d decimated Gawain he’d managed to move on. There was hope that she herself could fully change, remake her life in New York into something new and balanced. Twyla wondered if she was supposed to feel jealous at all. A tiny part of her felt a pang of something green but it was quickly silenced by the rest of her. Sure, it always hurt to see your position change in someone’s life but that was part of the deal—it was better for both of them this way. Besides, she’d forced that change in status a long time ago; it was all her doing. She had no claim to the gender-shifting mirror-walker and she knew it. Meeting Ami was awkward but necessary. Maybe the universe wanted to get everything Important out of the way as soon as possible?

There were a couple of ways that the Trio of Awkward could play this and Twyla chose to direct it into an amicable route. If either of them weren’t comfortable with that she’d roll with the mood shift. The young woman couldn’t help it if it felt good to her to see Gawain and Ami together. Her hand shot out to meet the extended one. The shake Twyla gave the brunette was warm. She beamed at her, ignoring any hesitance she probably should have felt. “It’s good to meet you, Ami.” The tone she used was honest and her gaze was direct. She looked less in that moment like her old self than she had in a long time. This was Calm Twyla, the updated version of the shy girl.

”Sounds like we’ve got a lot in common.” The little smirk wasn’t missed. Twyla responded with a hesitant one of her own. Discomfort trickled back into her mood. Was she allowed to return the joke? Was it weird or rude to do so? Eh, so far she was pretty sure that her response to the situation couldn’t get any more inappropriate—maybe this would break some ice? She glanced at Gawain, then back to Ami. “I guess we do.” An awkward pause. “So, what’s a girl got to do to get a new bedroom around here?” She’d meant for her tone to be more easy-going but it sounded a bit flat, even to Twyla.