Retrospect

by LxRebecca

Disclaimer: All original characters belong to me but all other characters belong solely to that of Marvel's X-Men

Warning: Minor language

Summary:"She doesn't love you!" I screamed, my blood boiling, as I glared at the stubborn man in front of me. The muscle in his jaw kept fluttering incessantly like a bird struggling to escape a cage.

"She's just using you to get to Logan. Why don't you see that?" My voice broke on the last word.

OCxCyclops

Chapter 1:

She froze, her eyes locked on mine as her hands stopped fidgeting over the brown paper bag.

"Now. I want you to do as I say. Will you do that?" I asked softly. Her stare didn't falter once. "Good. Now put it in the bag." She grabbed the family size bag of pretzels and stuffed them in without taking her eyes off of me. I snatched the bag from her and smiled.

"Thank you." I drawled out as I walked off just as she began to shake her head in confusion.

Sucker.

I know there's nothing wrong with me. My mom knows there nothing wrong with me. But for some reason half of Prantridge High is convinced I'm not just Nadia but also a conniving bitch with a secret. Senior year has arrived and instead of feeling the swell of nostalgia I'm more than eager to escape this hell.

Being stuck in a one horse town with a preacher dead set on the idea that I'm the antichrist has been less than a pleasure but as my mom always says, "Suck it up and hold your head high". I have no problem doing that considering I've always been the height of an NBA player since the second grade, but having to put up with everyone's shit is a skill that doesn't come naturally.

"Hey Nadia! Tell the devil I said hey!" Sadie Thacker shouted from across the parking lot. I gave her the bird as I trudged home ignoring the slight pain in my head. So much for the preacher's daughter. Mom always tells me to ignore that one. I can lose myself so easily when caught up in the anger.

The concrete smacked against my chucks as I stared ahead, my red hair fluttering into my eyes every once in a while. I hate winter. All the trees look like they've gotten passed out drunk and forgot to put their clothes back on and the air feels like tiny shards of glass weaseling it's way in and out of my lungs.

I live in a neighborhood full of old people who spend their days glowering at me from the front porch of their houses. Apparently this had been a nice place in the '50s, drew in a lot of young couples who are still here today. I don't see the appeal. I kept my eyes focused on the sidewalk as Mrs. Gates called to me from her porch, "You best keep walking young lady! You take my roses again and I'll tell your mama."

Mrs. Gates, a crazy old hag, but a genius at gardening. My mom particularly loved having her roses in a vase rested on our old dining room table, and who was I to stop providing the inventory?

"Nadia?" I froze and turned my head. "Honey will you help me put the bags over the daisies? It's supposed to get real cold tonight." I walked over and leaned down, placing the paper bag on the dead grass.

"Sure."

"Did you have a nice day at school?"

"Yeah." I replied softly while squeezing a plastic bag over the new optimistically bought daisies that wouldn't last the night.

"You didn't use them today did you?"

"Use what?"

"Your gift darlin'. You seem a little down'" I sighed and said,

"No."

"Good. Pastor John came over earlier to say that some man came to the church looking for you. Said he was a professor or something at some college. It sounds to me like he might be a recruiter!" She smiled. I could feel my heart race and before I knew it I was spewing out questions.

"!? Who was it? What did they say?"

"Pastor John said he would be back on Sunday to try and meet you. He knows you're quite good at basketball and thought this might be a good chance for you." I raised an eyebrow.

"Pastor John?"

"Yes. He can be a pleasant man sometimes. You just have to give him a shot." She said as she made one last motion to straighten up the bag. She brushed her hands over her holey jeans and stood, her greying hair swept up into a bun with strays lightly blowing in her bright green eyes that kept flickering between the house and the daisies.

"I think this could be exciting. You just might get out of here." She said with a wink as she returned to the porch. I swept up my pretzels and walked in ignoring Jason as he sat on the couch quietly flipping through the channels.

"What are you doing here dirt bag?" He asked.

"Just got back from school twerp. Shouldn't your mom be picking you up soon?"

"Nah. She had to stay late for work. She's paying your mom extra though so don't worry." I was about to head up the stairs when I heard the television click off and Jason jump excitedly up and down on the worn leather sofa. "Nadia! Can you show me how it works again?!" I looked down the stairs at his ridiculously cut blond hair and only quirked up a smile. His mother was training to be a hairdresser and loved using her son as practice.

"Fine. But you have to leave me be for the rest of the afternoon."

"I promise!" He exclaimed, making room on the cushion.

I slunk back down the staircase and sat on the edge of the pillow.

"Alright. Remember. When I say stop you have to close your eyes. You understand?"

"Yeah. Come on!"

"Alright!"

I opened my eyes and stared directly at his.

"Woah…" He muttered softly. I could feel the Earth shifting as I kept my eyes completely focused on the pupil that seemed to grow larger and larger. The dark circle swallowed up the lamp, the television and before I knew it, the edges of my vision.

"Purple, blue, orange." He whispered as his mouth begin to droop.

"Stop." I said firmly as my vision began to clear. He kept staring, his chin going slack.

"Stop!" I shouted as I tried to refocus the room.

"Stop!" I screamed and backed away blinking furiously. I shook his shoulders gently as his head lolled. "Mom!"

She ran in her gaze darting nervously around the room before landing on the half-conscious Jason.

"What did I tell you Nadia?" She exclaimed as she grabbed Jason's shoulders and rested him against the pillow.

"I know I know. He asked me to do it… He thinks it's cool when they change colors."

"Yes but he's just a kid. It's dangerous to play around. You're eighteen you need to act like it!"

"But mom-"

"I know I know. This is difficult. For both of us. Just… I could get in trouble… You could get in trouble… Or worse they'd take you away."

"I could just make them forget!"

"Honey it's not that simple! You're special! They wouldn't understand."

"I didn't mean to mom." I whispered my eyes beginning to fog up.

"I know. It's okay. Just… go upstairs… do some homework. He'll wake up." I began to sit up and walk towards the stairs. I stopped and whispered,

"He stared at them too long."

"What?"

"My eyes. They changed and this time I didn't even have to say anything before they took effect."

"You're getting stronger." She muttered.

"What does that mean?"

"It means you have to try harder… No more showing the kids your powers. You're going to have to fight it. Just for this year…. Until we figure something else out." I continued up the stairs and pushed open my door. The light streamed in lazily from the opposite window onto my dirt encrusted carpet. I collapsed onto my bed and placed my palms on my eyelids.

Just one more year. I can do it. Only one more year.

I don't know where my supposed 'gift' comes from but I do know that it doesn't make me special or different. It's just another obstacle. All of the kids who knew me knew that something was weird with me. The young ones don't judge, they just want to see the cool swirling eyes of the girl who their older siblings tell them to stay away from.

My mom says my dad was like me before he died. He didn't have the same power but he had something similar. She won't tell me.

There's nothing wrong with me.