in knowing you | scott summers

⋆.' ✶☾✦☽✶ '.⋆ part two ⋆.' ✶☾✦☽✶ '.⋆

Amberle shoved the rest of her school clothing into the locker provided. The small locker was just one of many inside the provided locker room, clearly Xavier had great plans and hopes that this x-men initiative would become larger than any of them thought was possible.

For now though, the women's locker room only had three participants- Amberle, Jean and Ororo.

The three girls kept the conversation light and brief as they changed into their training uniforms, the black suits were gender fluid amongst the team. Long sleeves and pants made breaking them in a bit tiresome, seeing as movement was mildly inhibited. But after the first few weeks of training back in the summer, the suits were far easier to move in. Amberle was happy to have no more blisters in the crevices of her arms, she had to apply rash cream to Scotts armpits and the backs of his knees for those first few weeks.

Amberle did feel that the massive yellow X across the chest was a bit of an overstatement, but she was in no position to comment- it is not like she was the one funding this entire program.

Jean had gone ahead as soon as she was finished changing, leaving Ororo and Amberle alone to catch up.

Ororo and Amberle shared a glance, despite the briefness of it, it was enough. They could both tell that something was bothering Jean, deeply. And while neither girl necessarily wanted to confront the class five level mutant about what was bothering her, they both felt it would be in everyone's best interest if the red head expressed her emotions a bit more.

But Jean had never really been one to be out and open with her thoughts and feelings. While she would occasionally allow one of their friends in, opening up just enough that they felt like she was trustworthy enough to be considered a worthwhile teammate, it was just enough. Regardless of her near limitless powers.

What was boundless potential within a teammate if you did not act like one?

"You need to talk to her." Ororo near whispered as the two trailed through the door where Jean had left a couple minutes prior.

Amberle trained her attention onto her friend, a brow lifting, "Why am I the one who has to do it?" She asked, genuinely curious as to why the white haired girl suggested that she be the one to ask.

"It would be better coming from you, I think." She exclaimed. Ororo waved her hand in the direction of the training room, where Jean likely was, "She trusts you the most, I think that much is evident. Though she might feel as though you do not trust her. But I think that is just a setback that comes with her mutation, she fears that everyone is scared of her. And that includes us, her friends.'

The blonde often forgot how Jean was before she had gotten to know her. Upon her own arrival to Charles' school, Amberle had been warned by a handful of students to be 'wary of the red head, Jean Grey.' For reasons that were far too out there to be considered true, or so Amberle had thought.

In truth, she herself had distanced herself from accumulating friends and developing those relationships. She had just been exposed in her hometown for being a mutant when she arrived. Amberle had been effectively shunned by those she had considered her friends since young childhood, her own aunts and uncles- even her parents had seemed to want nothing to do with her as far as association.

Her grandparents had been the ones to step up and demand that she go somewhere where she could learn to control and harness her mutation, "Why not take advantage of an opportunity like this, for her? Why shun her for what she is?" Her grandmother had reasoned.

Despite her grandparents oftentimes being 'old fashioned', Amberle was surprised the most by their reaction to her being a mutant. Her own parents had made little to no effort to communicate with her since she arrived at Xavier's school. While her grandparents had both been nothing but supportive of what she needed, such as new school clothing or supplies, money for spending, field trips- they had stepped into the roll of a parental figure without even a second thought.