Layla

Chapter Three: You Should Join

Mutants, born with extraordinary abilities. And yet still, they are children stumbling in the dark. Searching for guidance. A gift can often be a curse, give someone wings, and they may fly too close to the sun. Give them the power of prophecy, and they may live in fear of the future. Give them the greatest gifts of all, powers beyond imagination, and they may think they are meant to rule the world. 

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X-Mansion-1983

"Hey, whoa!" Layla said dodging the fireball that almost hit her shoulder. The fireball skimmed past her shoulder, knocking against the stone wall outside the patio, sending tiny pieces of ash on her shoulder. Layla brushed it off, looking at the mutant student who threw the ball. "You need to be careful! You could seriously hurt someone! The professor," She told the young mutant, keeping her hands placed firmly on her hips. "Does not like that! There are other students here. You want the professor to know about this?" She asked arching a neat brow, pointing to the burnt spot on the stone wall. 

The young mutant, who looked to be in his early teens, shook his bowl cut dirty blond hair, at her. His green eyes lowered in embarrassment, and a faint blush crept along the top of his cheeks. He scratched his head, keeping his eyes down, while his friends snickered behind him.

"Sorry, miss." He mumbled low enough for her to hear. 

"Uh, huh. Now, you and your," She drawled waving her hand to his friends behind him, trying to remember the word friend. "Uh...group of friends, be careful next time you use your powers." She warned before turning on her heel to leave. 

The kids behind her rushed down the steps, and were out of sight. Stepping back inside the mansion, Layla dogged the group of kids that practically ran her over in the hall just to get outside. Layla watched the kids rush outside in a happy frenzy, and let out a deep sigh, shaking her head. The school had grown over the years, and it was still filling up. Honestly, Layla had no clue how Charles had room for all of these students. There were many mutant students, with different abilities. It was fascinating for Layla. She enjoyed seeing different mutants come in, learning to control their abilities. Some struggled like her, but there were others who managed to control their abilities, quickly.

Layla had been here for three years living with Charles, and Hank, and still she was trying to control her abilities. While here, she had finished high school. She never got too, after what happened with her parents. Luckily, Charles and Hank helped her, while learning to control her powers. Layla had managed to control her telepathy, and do more with her healing ability. However, her telekinesis still spiraled out of control. Layla finally came to the realization, that it would probably never get under control. She had managed to do the best that she could. Charles was struggling with that. He didn't understand why she was having a difficult time. He kept telling her something was holding her back. Layla never told Charles or Hank, about her past, though. If they knew, Charles would hate her, or kick her out. Charles and Hank had become good friends of Layla, and she didn't want to lose that. She had already lost Peter, and her heart still ached for him.

Stepping into the professor's office, Layla looked around, hoping to find him. He was nowhere to be seen, and Layla huffed, sagging her shoulders down in defeat. Seeing that no one was around, Layla stepped into Charles's office, dropping her radio and bag of candy on the table beside the door. Charles had many books, relating to different topics. It ranged from history around the world, to anatomy of the human body, biology, cells, fables, myths, and the list could go on. There were old books with worn spines, yellowed pages, and they were filled with that old book smell. When you opened the book, the spine cracked, and the pages crinkled with each turn, showing the reader how much it had beed used over the years. Then there were newer books, but it didn't excite Layla as much as older books did. Layla was a bookworm, and the library in Charles's office was her favorite. She hated sneaking in, but she wasn't going to steal anything.