X-Men Evolution: Rogue Evolution

Lessons 7.3

A rush of cool air sent the unsecured flaps of Anna's jacket flying out to either side like bat wings when she pushed open the mansion's front door. She wrangled in her hoodie and nearly caught her finger in the zipper after stuffing her scarf between layers. She took a long draw of the steady crisp breeze and tracked the sun only a few feet above the tree line to the west.

Stepping down the narrow set of stairs, her boots manage to catch a few roaming leaves despite their considerable wind-bound speed. It was satisfying to hear them crunch beneath her weight. She remembered when she was little, she would go out of her way to find the biggest fattest leaves and stomp on them during the fall. She remembered just earlier that day doing that exact same thing between classes at school when she was pretty sure no one was looking.

She threw her hood over her head and pulled it snuggly against her scalp with the drawstring as she began her walk North along the mansion's drive. Walking, for walking's sake, sounded like a thing that retires with nothing to do - and detainees did with nothing to do - did the pass the time. It's not like she was at a loss for damn exercise these days, thanks to the Danger Room or whatever sadistic regimen Logan may have concocted for her to do. Still, Kitty mentioned how much she liked 'getting out in the fresh air', and whenever Anna looked outside, she always seemed to clock Jean going out to her special spot by the sea. While she wouldn't consider either of them the 'picture of mental health,' well, it's not like she had anything better to do.

It's not something she would admit it to either of them, but after a while, she had to admit walking around the mansion this close to sunset was pretty nice. The trees were all oranges and reds, the weather was the coolest it had ever been, and she never considered the value of fresh air. 'Fresh air' always seemed like the thing a parent tells a kid to go get when they're done with them being in the house all day, but maybe there was something to it after all.

Anna pulled her hands out of her pockets, unfastened the buckle on the back of her right glove, and allowed her bare flesh to greet the sky above. She held the sun between her fingers and moved the tips slowly till one eclipsed the sun's rays. It was crazy how pale her hands had become over the summer after constantly being covered. Made sense, was just strange having a farmer tan on your wrist. She pulled her hand close to her face and inspected the frayed nails and damaged skin around the smallest knuckle. Nail biting had always been her bane. She thought she had kicked the habit, but the little chipmunk bite marks along the whites on the nail of her thumb said otherwise. She missed painting her nails too. It's not like there was anything stopping her, she supposed, but there wasn't much point if they were just going to be covered by gloves all day, was there?

'It's a skin condition,' Anna remembered telling a girl once who asked her about her gloves in school. 'It's not contagious or anything, just... you know.' She couldn't remember exactly what the other girl, a pretty blonde with a wonder bra that didn't leave much to wonder about, said exactly, but she was pretty sure it was something like 'gross' or 'whatever' before walking away.

Anna brought her hand close to her chest and held it there like a wounded bird. She drew in a long breath, and when she did, she smelt something like gas. She looked up and saw she was just starting to pass the garage on the far side of the mansion. The middle of the 5 garage doors was open, and inside, she spotted Scott's little red sports car with its black canvas top pulled up. If she peered her eyes, she could just spot a pair of wingtip shoes poking out the passenger-side window.

She wasn't trying to be subtle in her approach. She didn't try to walk in the grass or keep out of view of the car. Still, when she leaned over and knocked on the driver-side window, Scott jumped hard enough inside to shake the whole car. Formerly reclined with both of his feet dangling out the open window, in his shock, he made to pull both of his feet back in the car but only managed it with his left foot while his right was stuck wedged between the frame and the door's mirror. With his foot tangled, his body twisted in a way Anna didn't think possible toward the driver's window, and the thing he had been holding, a book, slipped from his hand and fell to the floor.