Stanford: Fresh Start
Chapter 1
by Cascade
Disclaimer: Amazingly enough none of Marvel's mutants appear in this fic-- but some are mentioned and it does take place in their world-- Well, Alicia's spin-off of their world. All Pantheon 'kids' are Alicia's, except for Alison and Nathan Guthrie. All the Stanford characters are mine, except for Algie the Fish, who either belongs to Alicia or himself, depending on how you view things.
Author's Notes: Thanks have to go to Alicia and Duey who beta-read this for me and to them and all the others who wrote me and bludgeoned... err... encouraged me to write more about Alison Guthrie. This is a sequel to my short fic Black Sheep. I adore feedback! Feedback is your chance to vote for or against Alison. I'm not sure whether to continue with her or to go back to Dana, so write me at cascade@subreality.com and let me know which you'd prefer!
The corkboard beside the door had two signs on it announcing the names of the people who would live inside. The one on the left said "Kristin" in bright pink letters on a cheery yellow background. The one on the right was a little more low-key. Maroon letters on a blue background spelled out "Alison."
Alison Guthrie spared it a passing glance and then adjusted the box she was carrying on her hip so she could fish the keys out of her pocket that they had given her at registration. One was for the front door, one was for her mail and one was for her room. They all looked the same. She frowned and tried one in the lock. No luck.
"D'ye need some help, lass?"
"No thanks Ms. Cassidy. I can probably get it from here, actually." She pulled the key out and tried a different one.
"Are ye sure ye don't need any help t' unpack?"
"I'm sure." Alison tried to smile warmly despite clenching her teeth in frustration at the fact that the second key hadn't worked either. "Thanks so much for giving me a ride. I really shouldn't take up any more of your time."
Theresa Cassidy paused for a moment, undecided on what to do. "Well... ah... enjoy school. Give me a call if ye need anything."
"I will." The second key was pulled out of the lock.
"Well, I'll be seeing you then."
"Bye!" Alison waved with her free hand as Terry walked away, but dropped the keys she held in it. Alison glared down at them. She couldn't tell which ones she'd tried so now she'd have to start all over. She sighed, put the box she was carrying down, and bent down to pick up her keys.
At that moment the door opened. Alison looked up in surprise at the cheerful looking girl beaming down on her. Alison straightened.
"Oh! I thought I heard something out here! You must be Alison!" She stuck her hand out. "Hi! I'm Kristin Becker! I'm gonna be your roommate!"
Alison smiled, but raised a skeptical eyebrow. Kristin seemed a little too perky to be natural. Everything she said seemed to end in an exclamation point. Alison shook Kristin's extended hand.
"Hi, Kristin. I'm Alison Guthrie."
"Do you need any help with your boxes?" Kristin asked, looking at Alison's things piled in the hall.
"Well, if you don't mind."
"Oh, it's no problem!" Kristin scampered out into the hall, heading straight for the largest and heaviest box.
"Here, lemme get that one. It's pretty heavy."
Kristin hefted it and shrugged. "I've got it. Don't worry." She grinned and headed back in the room.
Alison grabbed a box and followed her. It was a small room, with a bed and a desk on either side. The right side was barren-- a simple bed with a mattress, a plain desk, an empty closet, bare white walls.
Alison looked over at the other side. Kristin's side of the room seemed to somehow divert all the light from the overhead fixture. Her side of the room was bright and cheery. Everything she owned, from her bedspread, to her lamp, to her picture frames were all part of some sort of floral motif and were covered in big sunflowers or daisies or other cheerful flowers. Her bedspread, for instance, was pink, with big white and yellow daisies on it. Her pillowcases matched. And someone had made her daisy accent pillows to go on her bed as well. They vied for space with a number of exceedingly cute stuffed animals. Her walls were covered in posters. All of them were cute as well. Some had teddy bears or kittens and some had cute boyish TV, movie or music stars.
Dropping the box she carried on her bare bed, Alison sighed. Kristin was just too adorable for words-- Wavy brown hair that was dangerously close to being in ringlets, big innocent blue eyes, and only about a skinny 5' 3 to Alison's muscular 6'. She was also an entirely unknown quantity. Clare or Zara certainly weren't like this. The year promised to be interesting.
Kristin brought the last of Alison's things in and set them on her bed and then sat down next to them. Her feet dangled off the bed and she crossed them at the ankles and sat on her hands. She tilted her head and examined Alison like a little bird might. She looked about 9 years old.
"Here, lemme get this stuff off your bed." Alison said.
"No, it's fine here. If you need to spread out your stuff while you unpack, it's cool."
Alison raised her eyebrows, and chuckled. "Okay. Uh... Thanks." She turned back to the box on her bed and began to rip off the packing tape. "So... uh... Where are you from? I haven't heard that accent before... and trust me... I've heard a lot of different accents."
Kristin wrinkled her cute little upturned nose in what looked like embarrassment. Alison could just hear her saying, 'Oh, you don't want to know about little old me.' Kristin gave a little shrug and said, "From Canada, actually."
"Really?" Alison looked at adorable Kristin, the flowered bed spread, and the posters of kittens... and thought of Logan. She dissolved into laughter.
Big blue eyes got impossibly bigger as Kristin widened her eyes in shock, and then her full lower lip jutted out in the beginnings of a pout.
"Oh, I'm sorry. It's not about you at all. It's just that I know one other Canadian, and he is SO not like you that it just seemed hysterical." Alison calmed herself and wiped tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. "Once I dig out my photo album, I'll show you. He's not really the flowers and kittens type."
"Oh." The pout instantly dissolved and was replaced again with the friendly smile she had been wearing before. "Well, I'm from Halifax. Is he from Halifax?"
"Probably not." Alison thought for a moment. "Actually, I don't think many people know what part of Canada he's actually from."
Kristin furrowed her brow. "That sounds mysterious." She shrugged. "I don't think I'm very mysterious. He's probably not from Halifax. We're not very mysterious there."
Alison repressed a grin and went back to digging through her boxes. She pumped her fist in triumph as she found her bedding, and then pulled it all out and laid it on the mattress. It was all blue and green and not nearly as cute as Kristin's was, but it suited Alison fine. She set the box she had pulled it all from on the floor and started to make her bed.
"Do you need a hand?" Kristin asked.
"No, I've got it."
"Oh." She seemed disappointed. "So, um... where are you from?"
"New York."
"Wow. You came a long ways too."
Alison nodded. "Why did you come all this way? Must be a hassle to come all the way from Halifax."
Kristen shrugged. "I'm in pre-med. Stanford's got a great medical school. Plus, there's no snow here. I was ready for some sunshine."
Alison grinned and nodded. "I think I partially came for the sun too."
"So why are you here?"
"I'm here to swim. As warped as that makes my priorities sound, that's basically why I'm here. My secondary reason is to major in Archeology."
"Why archeology?"
"I watched a lot of Indiana Jones growing up." Alison winked. "Really, it's just interesting to me, and it's one of the few things that the rest of my family doesn't do. Keeps me from being redundant... Although, I guess you could say one of my 'uncles' is an amateur Egyptologist." Alison chuckled to herself.
Kristin wrinkled her brow in confusion. "I have a feeling you have a lot of in-jokes."
**********************
*This is so mind-blowingly stupid..."
Alison glared through her sunglasses at the Residence Assistant sitting across from her. Heather, the RA in question, was as perky as Kristin, but in an irritating cheerleader sort of way. Heather turned to look at her.
"And can you tell us a little bit about yourself?" Heather bubbled.
Alison glanced around the circle of unimpressed and bored freshman she was sitting in. Few, if any, were even looking at her or Heather. It was hard to tell, they were all wearing sunglasses.
"Okay," Alison said, temporarily plastering a Kristin-bright smile on her face. "I'm Alison Guthrie. I'm on the swim team. I'm an Archeology major."
"And where are you from, Alison?"
"New York."
"That's great!" Heather turned away from her to ask the next person to spill their guts. Alison rolled her eyes and dropped her grin. Heather had responded to every single statement made by everyone in the circle with her "That's great!" answer.
She turned to look at the boy next to her as he spoke.
"I'm Brian Thompson, I'm from Encino." Some other boy across the circle pumped his fist in the air. "Dude! You too? Sweet!" He seemed astoundingly pleased. "Yeah, anyway, I'm on the men's diving team..."
"As opposed to the women's diving team, you knob." The boy next to him punched him in the arm. Brian punched him back.
"Knock it off, *Christopher*..." That got Brian another punch in the arm. Brian shoved him back. "As I was saying..."
Alison looked at Christopher. She raised an eyebrow. *Helllllo.* She lowered her sunglasses and looked over the top of them to make sure they weren't distorting her vision. They weren't.
Alison was not easily distracted by pretty boys. Spending all of her life around fit, wet boys in Speedos had effectively inoculated her against guys with pecs. However, few swimmers managed to have very good hair after all that time in chlorinated water. Good hair was her weakness. Christopher had good hair in spades-- although she had to admit he had almost everything in spades.
Short, neatly trimmed light brown hair crowned a narrow, tan face-- everything in damn near perfect proportion-- eyes hidden behind trendy sunglasses. He wore khakis and a polo shirt, a little more preppy than Alison usually liked, and had a cross-country runner's body: Skinny, but in a muscular sort of way, and tall, about 6'2".
Alison shook her head and scolded herself. She had always prided herself on not judging people by looks. Her previous boyfriends hadn't been anything too special in the looks department. They had all been chosen for other qualities.
She looked at Christopher again. *Well... He's joking around with this Brian guy, so he seems like he's got a good sense of humor. And he got accepted to Stanford, so he's probably pretty intelligent.*
It was Christopher's turn to talk. "My name is *Chris* Weaver." He fixed Brian with a glare. "I'm also from Encino, and I'm in Pre-Med."
"That's great!" Heather enthused.
Alison grinned a secret grin. *That IS great, Heather. That means he's REALLY intelligent.* With that she shooed her conscience away and went back to watching Christopher-- *Chris,* she corrected herself-- full time.
*************************
"Now, I've never actually played this game with so many people before, but I'm sure you'll all do great!"
Alison rolled her eyes at Heather. This was feeling less and less like freshman orientation week and more and more like some sort of bizarre prison camp. Heather ruled her camp with an iron fist. Though she had never said that she was involved with sports, Alison suspected she played some sort of role on the school's track team. She had already run down three of her group that had tried to escape and dragged them back.
They were now playing a stupid bonding game-- the one where everyone holds someone else's hand and then the group works together to untie the knot that creates. Alison had tried to lead, but no one was listening, so now she was content to get dragged around until they were ready to listen to her.
Kristin got dragged by her. "Hi, Alison!" she said brightly before being dragged away again. She tripped over someone and apologized, and then got dragged through an impossibly small opening, apologizing the whole way.
Someone, probably Kristin, fell at the other end of the knot. It sent a ripple through the crowd of people and sent Alison colliding into another person. She looked up. It was Chris. He smiled at her.
"Hi," he said.
"Hi, Chris," she replied.
He looked impressed. "You remembered my name. I'd give you a handshake, but my hands are a little occupied at the moment."
"Mine too." She grinned at him.
"Say, where'd you get put?"
"Bennet, floor 2."
"Really? What a coincidence! Me too! Room 209."
"Room 223, here."
"Just down the hall! You should come visit."
"I should."
They were both jostled by another person. "Hi, I'm Brian."
"I know," Alison smiled at him, but underneath was pissed off at him for interrupting.
"Cool." Brian nodded his head in a not-very-successfully suave way. "I see you've met Chris."
"Yes, she has." Chris said coolly.
"You should come on over and visit sometime. We're two pretty cool guys."
"I already invited her."
"Good."
There was another shift in the group and Chris was yanked bodily in another direction. "Hey! That's my arm! I need that!" he exclaimed as he glared at the person next to him. She shrugged. He looked back across the crowd at Alison and Chris. "IT WAS A PLEASURE MEETING YOU!!" he yelled across to them. "I HOPE TO SEE YOU AGAIN SOON!"
*********************
The reflection in the mirror was everything she hoped it'd be. Carefully crafted to be as devastatingly attractive as possible, and yet also did not look too intentional. She had her father's gift for strategy. Every piece of clothing, granule of make-up and strand of hair had been carefully chosen and placed to look like it had not been carefully chosen and placed.
Alison gave her reflection one last sly smile before heading for the door.
Chris's room was at the end of a long corridor. She squared her shoulders as she walked, mentally psyching herself up like she would before a swim meet. By the time she reached his door she was ready to play whatever little mental game it took to get him. She looked at the bulletin board next to the door. "Christopher" in green and light blue on the left. The 'topher' part of the sign was crossed out with thick black marker. "Brian" in orange and yellow. Beneath were a few items that looked to be the start of a collage about themselves. A postcard saying "Greetings From Encino!" in the middle. Pictures scattered around it: Brian diving, the two of them goofing around. Souvenirs from Californian ball-teams. A collection of surfing memorabilia. A bumper sticker from Ron Jon's Surf Shop in Florida. Another asking "Where in the world is Wall Drug?"
She smiled and knocked on the door. She heard movement inside and the door opened. Her smile dimmed imperceptibly.
"Umm... Hi.... Brian." She started, looking past him into the room. "Is Chris around?"
Brian shook his head. "Huh-uh. He's taking a walk or something. He should be back soon though. You wanna come in and wait for him?"
She shrugged. "Well, I just stopped by to say hi like you asked me to."
Brian grinned winningly. "Well at least stay until he comes back and you can say hi to him."
His grin was infectious. She couldn't help but return it. "All right. I'll stay for a little while."
He stepped back out of the way so she could enter.
"But I can't stay too long. I have to get up early tomorrow." She looked around the room. The left side was pristine... the right side looked like a bomb had gone off. She demurely sat on the bed on the left hand side.
"How come? School doesn't start for a few more days." Brian kicked a few things out of his way and sat down on the bed on the right. "Oh. Um... Pardon the mess. I haven't quite gotten everything unpacked yet."
Alison acknowledged him with a nod. "I have to get back in the pool. The sooner the better. I need to get in the habit of going before class before class starts."
"Before class? Yuck. That's early."
"Well, you're a diver. Shouldn't you be used to it by now?"
He chuckled and ran a hand through his medium-length bleached blond hair. Medium brown roots showed. "I practiced after school."
"You better get used to morning practices fast."
"I can do it." He grabbed a picture frame off his cluttered desk and looked at it. Then he showed it to Alison. It showed Chris surfing. "The good waves form at dawn."
She nodded and glanced at Chris's desk. There was a similar picture of Brian on his desk. She indicated it with a nod of her head. "Matching frames?"
Brian winced. "Our moms thought it was cute." He changed the subject. "You're from New York, right?"
She nodded. "I've lived there my whole life."
"No offense, but you don't have a New York accent."
"It was hard to pick one up where I lived. Mom's from New York, but she doesn't have much of an accent. Dad's from Kentucky, which basically counteracts any New York in mom's accent. Mom and Dad, uh... sorta teach at a private school. We lived there. There were people from all over the country-- and then there were African, Canadian, Russian, German... I heard a lot of different accents growing up. It was hard to get stuck on one."
He smiled at her. "You've got one though. It's pretty. Kinda musical."
She smiled back softly. "Thanks." The musicality of her accent was thanks to Cable and Sulven. Alison's mother and most of the kids knew at least the basics of Askani from them. The song-like language had affected their accents a bit, which had then rubbed off on Alison. She wished she knew more of the language. It had never been taught to her.
She really did not want to get into her family yet, though. She wasn't quite sure what the reaction would be out here, and she'd prefer to keep a low profile. Plus, her somewhat wild imagination told her, if it was to get around that she was very dear to some of the key players in the XSE... well... a kidnapping attempt would really affect her schoolwork and swimming. She looked around the room.
Her eyes found an interesting focus among the clutter on Brian's desk. "Who's this?" She asked, standing and pointing at an elegant fish in a bowl.
Brian ducked his head in embarrassment, smoothing his hair back. "That's Algie. He's a Siamese fighting fish."
"He's pretty," she said, kneeling down to be eye level with the bowl. "Aren't pets illegal, though?"
Brian came up behind her to look at Algie. "It's kind of a 'don't ask, don't tell' policy where fish are concerned. Besides, I couldn't leave him at home. He would have gotten lonely."
"Lonely? I didn't think fish got lonely."
"Oh yeah. They do. He gets all despondent and just floats around in his bowl if I'm not around."
Alison raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Really?"
"Yeah. When I'm around he does stuff like this." He touched the surface of the water once with his finger. Instantly Algie began to swim, waving his large, flag-like fins around. He swam in loops and circles and figure eights.
Alison laughed in delight. "I didn't even know fish could do that! It's like he's dancing! He should be in the circus or something. Did you train him to do that?"
He shrugged. "Not really. He does it on his own a lot. He's pretty smart... for a fish." Algie stopped dancing, and looked at them, then he turned away almost indignantly.
Alison gasped. Brian looked embarrassed. "I'm sorry." He tapped the water. Algie didn't turn around. Brian sighed, reached for the food and dropped a few flakes into the bowl. "I didn't mean to say that. You're smart for any species, Algie."
Algie looked back in their direction for a moment, waved his fins, and then went to go eat his food.
Alison turned around looking warily at Brian. "Did that fish just *forgive* you?"
"Maybe." He shrugged. "I dunno. He's a weird little fish. I've had a lot of 'em, but-- you know how sometimes dogs and cats can take on personalities and almost seem human?"
She nodded.
"Well, it's the same way with Algie. He's the only fish I've met who's ever done that... although I've never had a fighting fish before, so maybe the whole species is like that." He scratched his head.
Alison frowned. There was something... well... fishy about this.
"Brian, are you showing off your fish again?" It was Chris.
Alison spun, fish forgotten, and greeted him. "Hi Chris." She smiled broadly at him.
"Nice of you to come over, Alison." He was holding a map of the school in his hand. He indicated it with his other. "I don't suppose either of you have a good sense of direction?"
"Only on the beach, Chris. You know that." Brian smirked.
"That's what I thought." His brow wrinkled in frustration.
"I've got a pretty good sense of direction," Alison said quietly. She reached out and took the map. "Where are you trying to get to?"
"I was trying to find my classes," he said, pulling his schedule out of his back pocket. "I didn't have much luck."
"Oh, sure, find your classes ahead of time," Brian mock-scolded. "Then you lose out on all the fun of dashing around on the first day of school in a panic, 15 minutes late for your first class because you can't find it. That's what I'm going to do."
Chris rolled his eyes at Brian and then looked back to Alison. "Can you find them?" he asked, indicating his class schedule.
"Shouldn't be a problem. While we're out I should probably look for my classes too. You wanna come Brian?"
Brian sighed dramatically. "Oh, I *guess.*"
********************
"And anatomy 110 is in room 4...0...3." Alison stopped dramatically in front of the room in question, indicating the door in a Vanna White pose. "Ta-da!"
Christopher golf clapped. "Amazing."
Alison bowed. "Thank you. No autographs, please."
Brian checked his watch. "So now what do we do? We've got the rest of the night..."
Alison checked her watch. "Crap! It's late. I should go to bed so I can get up early to swim tomorrow."
"Awww..." Brian gave her puppy-dog eyes. "Don't go! Come to the pool later in the afternoon with me."
She shook her head. "That'll throw off my whole schedule."
She looked back at Chris to say good bye. He looked at her, warm chocolate-brown eyes asking her if she wouldn't, just for him, stay out a bit longer.
*I could get happily lost for a very long time in eyes like that,* she thought. "Look, I really shouldn't..." she said out loud.
"Alison--" Chris started.
"Well, okay. I guess I'll stay."
**********************
"Okay. If you could be any kind of tree, what kind would you be?" Chris twirled a blade of grass in his fingers and looked up at the sky.
"What kind of lame question is that?" Brian rolled his eyes. "Ten for ten on originality, there, *Christopher*."
Alison snorted and shook her head. The three of them were laying in the grass in a big open space on campus. The moon was full and she could see the outlines of the arid hills surrounding the school. There wasn't another soul around. It was nice. It was quiet. It would have been terribly romantic if Brian wasn't there.
"I would be a maple," she said, interrupting they boys' tussle.
Chris sat up and looked at her, ignoring Brian. "And why's that?"
She smiled. She liked it when he paid such close attention to her. "I dunno," she said. "There was a big maple tree outside my window that me and my brother and cousins used to play in. It just always seemed like a fun tree."
Chris nodded his approval and then turned back to Brian. "What about you, Bri?"
Brian stuck his chin in the air, and affected a snooty accent. "I think, after weighing all the options at my disposal, I would have to choose to be a member of the species Strawberrius Arborius, otherwise known at the strawberry tree."
Chris looked heavenward. "There is no such thing."
A big dopey grin graced Brian's features. One that made her instantly think of her "uncle," Bobby Drake. "Exactly," he explained. "I would be one of a kind!" He burst into song. "But one of the most wonderful things about Brians is I'm the only one. Iiiiiii'm the only one!"
Chris sighed a long-suffering sigh. "All right, who's next?"
"I think it's me," Alison said quietly while Brian continued to chuckle at his own cleverness. Yes, he was definitely a kindred spirit to Bobby Drake.
"And your question is?" Chris asked.
"Umm.... How about 'If you could be any other person, alive or dead, who would you be?'"
"Good question." Chris looked back over at Brian. "You want to go first so we can get your answer out of the way?"
"Okay. Fine." Brian leaned back and thought for a moment. "I think I'd want to be Nathan Summers... You know.... the XSE guy... well, he's an ambassador, now... but you know who I'm talking about, right?"
Alison choked, but recovered quickly. "Why him?"
Brain shook his head. "I dunno. He's just... cool. Mysterious. Enigmatic. All the stuff he's done and seen... He's like a legend! I'm surprised they haven't made a movie about him or something."
"They tried."
Brian and Chris looked at Alison. "What did you say?" Brian asked.
Alison cursed herself. *Way to blow your cover.* Anyone could probably look up who her family was without too much trouble... She just preferred not to advertise it. "I said they tried," she repeated quietly. "A producer or something showed up at his doorstep and asked him if they could make one. Nathan nearly kicked him down the stairs." She had been young when it had happened. The XSE was fairly new and a hot buzzword among the media. She and Clare had been playing outside when the man had come. Nathan had had quite enough of being held in a spotlight and being tagged as a messiah and wanted nothing more to do with anything that smacked of similarity. Seeing the poor man get tossed out had been one of the best shows of her young life.
"How did you..." Chris started.
"I read it somewhere," she said, too quickly. The boys seemed to let it go at that, though and moved on.
"What about you, Chris?" Brian asked.
"I'm thinking..." Chris was in a pose of intense concentration. "I think I'd have to choose my dad." He said after a lengthy pause.
"Your DAD!?" Brian was in shock. "No offense, dude, but your dad is BORING. Why on earth would you want to be your dad?"
"'Cause he's got everything I want. He's got a successful practice, is happily married, has a few kids, an nice house... What more can you ask for?"
"Adventure! Excitement!"
"Ahh... but a Jedi craves not those things."
"Okay, I'll give you that, but teenage boys should." Brian looked to Alison. "Help me out here, Alison. Would you ever choose to be your father?"
Alison gave him an apologetic look but remained silent.
"Oh my God, I'm surrounded!"
"Well, that's only because he's done some kinda exciting and adventurous things," Alison explained.
"You said he was a teacher at a private school!"
"Well, yeah... but he's got his pilot's license... and he's a pretty cool guy..." she finished lamely.
Brian gave a disgusted sigh. "You people both need to go to bed. You're not thinking clearly."
Chris checked his watch. "It IS late, and you both have to start training tomorrow. We should go back."
Alison nodded her agreement. Five minutes ago she would have fought to keep at least Chris out here with her, but his answer provided her with some conflicting data. It didn't really change anything. he was still intelligent, funny and cute-- but something in her rebelled at the thought of being attached to a guy who wanted what he did. There wasn't anything wrong with that, in fact she had told her parents that she wanted as much when she chose Stanford over some 'human' position in the XSE, but... there was just... well... it was like a craving. A craving for thrills and adventure. She got up off the ground and dusted off her jeans and lead the boys back towards the dorm.
She remembered the days when the XSE was still headquartered at the mansion. A call would come in and a team would scramble to the hangar, and she loved to get in the thick of it... nosily asking her father all about it, getting an adrenaline buzz from second hand experiences of the major excitement that was commonplace to her family. She had loved that. The question was, did she still?
Chris looked over at her. "What's up? Why are you so quiet?"
Alison shook her head and shrugged. "Just thinking about something," she said.
****************
"I never train this late in the afternoon. This is going to put me off."
Brian turned and sighed at Alison as he threw his dive gear into his blue and yellow Encino High Dive Team bag. "What's to be put off for. You're not going to race, you're not trying out for the coach. Just swim a few laps and then go home."
Alison rolled her eyes at Brian. Her eyes caught on Algie's bowl. The fish was looking right at her. She narrowed her eyes. There was something about that fish that was downright unnatural.
"Okay. I'm ready." Brian slung his bag over his shoulder and followed her out into the hall. "You know, I've been meaning to ask you something..."
"What's that?"
"Your last name sounds really familiar."
Alison shrugged. "It's a fairly common last name." She raised an eyebrow. She wasn't a empath, like her mother, but an empath's daughter learns to pick up on body language and facial give-aways. Alison did not like Brian's body language.
"Are you related to anybody famous?"
*Uh-oh. Heads up.* "Nah. There are a lot of famous Guthries-- a musician or two-- about a half dozen ball players, but none of them are related to me."
"There's a superhero too, actually."
*Danger, Will Robinson!* "Really? That's kinda cool. Seems kinda obscure though..."
"Yeah. Samuel Zachary Guthrie. Code named Cannonball. He fought with Nathan Summers once. That's how I know."
*Red alert!* "You have a thing for that guy, huh?"
"Well he's a pretty fascinating guy. The reason I know is I wrote a term paper about him in eighth grade. Everyone had to pick a famous person and do this huge report. I wanted to do someone in the XSE, so I flipped a coin between him and that Bishop guy. Summers won. He's got, like, no past though, so in order to fill up all the pages I had to go really in depth about what I could find. Came across some references to this mutant team called X-Force. They were outlaws for a while... did some pretty cool stuff. The leader of the team, when Summers wasn't around, was this kid named Guthrie. It came to me last night after I went to bed. This guy is from Kentucky and can fly planes, just like your dad."
"What's the point?" she snapped. She stopped in the middle of a park. There weren't too many people around, so at least no one would overhear.
"Well, is he your dad?"
She could lie, but lies were hard to keep up. She sighed. "Please don't tell anyone."
"He IS your dad!? That is so wicked!"
"Look, can you just keep it to yourself? I'm trying to maintain a low profile."
"Is there a security risk?" He looked thrilled.
"No. I just want to pretend to be a normal kid for as long as possible."
"So... Do you know Nathan Summers?"
"Yes." She tried to look as unencouraging as possible.
"NO WAY!" He didn't take the hint. "This is so COOL!" He paused, and a sly grin crossed his face. "So, do you know his daughter?"
"Clare? Yeah, she's one of my best friends."
"She's so hot."
Alison couldn't help but laugh. "She'd rip your intestines out for saying that."
"Can you hook me up?"
"No! She's seeing someone."
"Damn. You know what the weirdest thing about Nathan Summers is?"
"I bet you're going to tell me."
"He just appears mid way through the '80s. Nobody knows where he came from... he's just there all of a sudden."
"Yeah. He does that."
Brian furrowed his brow. "Made the paper a bitch to write, but I was too far along to switch to Bishop by the time I figured that out."
Alison chuckled again. "Trust me, switching to Bishop wouldn't have made it any easier."
A look of complete confusion crossed his face, but he recovered quickly. "So you basically grew up in the XSE, surrounded by mutant superheroes?"
"Yeah. Look, can we not talk about it now?"
"But it's cool!" He paused and pouted. "Can we talk about it later?"
Alison sighed. "Fine. But let's just go practice now, okay?"
"Okay. Hey, what's your mutant power?"
Alison clenched her fist, glared and seethed.
"What!? What did I say?"
To be continued...