-Jordan's POV-

Over the past few weeks, I've been going through these… these "changes" I guess you could call them. It's not exactly the same kind of changes that the average fifteen year old boy goes through. I've been trying to hide it as best as I could, to cover it up, but sometimes it gets really, and I mean really bad. Whenever it happened at school whether I was in a hallway, the cafeteria, even a classroom, I would run away as fast as I could to either the bathroom or janitor's closet. Whichever one was closer.

So I guess it started about three weeks ago when we just moved to Bayville from Seattle. I was moving around some boxes in my new room when it happened.

-Flashback-

I can honestly say that I absolutely hate moving. There's nothing worse than having to spend hours on end unpacking boxes and putting junk away. Finding out which boxes belong to who. Moving boxes up and down stairs. Boxes, boxes, boxes! Now, you think it would be easy and organized, considering it was just me and my mom, but it's most definitely not. It's even harder because she kept asking me to help her move her stuff while I was trying to move my own stuff.

When I got some time to deal with my own junk, all I could do was gawk at the amount of cardboard boxes that were crowding my room. When I finally pulled myself together, I walked over to one of the large stacks of boxes and opened up the first one. It was filled with some old shirts that I was almost positive I haven't worn since I was twelve. For starters, they were just a bit small and covered in stains. As I was holding up one of the shirts, I thought about how badly I wanted to get rid of it. I considered throwing it in the rash when Mom wasn't looking or even possibly tossing it in the fireplace whenever we get around to lighting it up.

A bunch of different scenarios ran through my mind, distracting me from what was going on right in front of me. My hands were, well, they were glowing a bright red. The blue plaid shirt I had been holding was slightly singed and small puffs of smoke rose from it. In shock, I threw the shirt away from me and dashed out my room, heading for the bathroom. With my hands still red, I ran them under cold water. I was probably standing there for about five minutes with no change at all. It was odd though, I couldn't actually feel the heat that I knew was there. I mean, I saw the shirt; it definitely looked like I had set it on fire.

-End flashback-

Bayville High seemed friendly enough; minus Duncan and his football lackeys that always seem to terrorize e and other students as well. All they did was pick on that little group of students for some reason. What were their names? Well, I know one of them was Cat or Kitty or something along those lines. I've heard rumors that her and her friends were mutants, but they don't seem like it. from what I've heard, mutants were disgusting looking creatures. So if Bayville High had undetectable mutants in it, imagine how many must be all over the city. I… I might even be one of them.

I was kneeling on the ground outside the school under an old oak tree, trying to put away some stuff that had fallen out of my book bag. The cold wind nipped at my bare arms while I hastily grabbed for my jacket and put it on. Proceeding putting some read and blue notebooks into my bag, I heard people running around behind me. I didn't pay much attention to any of it, that is, until I heard them running towards me. Just moments later, something hard made painful contact with the back of my head, causing me to jerk forward a bit. Rubbing the spot that had gotten hit, I stood up and turned around. Just as I had expected, Duncan and the other football jocks were standing right behind me.

"Hey there Freshman." He sneered

I could feel my hands starting to tingle as I looked Duncan dead in the eyes. I clenched my fists as my blood started to boil higher and higher. A small crowd gathered around the two of us, whispers and murmurs filling the air around us. Duncan signaled for his buddies to fall back and glared down at me.

"What? Do you wanna start a fight or something, Seattle?"

"My Name is Jordan. Get it right."

Now, I guess you could say that it's just a bit foolish of me to stick around for this long, but I stood my ground. Duncan started pushing me back, taking a step towards me whenever I took a stumble back. With every shove, my hands tingled more and more. I finally turned around to walk away, only to feel a strong hand on my shoulder. My body unwillingly jolted around to once again face Duncan. A fist came flying at me, knocking me over. Without thinking, I retaliated. The next thing I knew, I was on my feet, charging after Duncan. Rolling up the sleeves of my jacket, my own fist flew towards him, hitting him right in the left temple. A gasp came from the growing crowd of students.

"Mutant!"

I was taking too much pride in my work to realize what had actually went down. Once I heard the shout of that single word, I brought my hands to my face to find that they were now stone. This time it wasn't just my hands, my arms as well. Quickly, I rolled down my sleeves and shoved my hands in my pockets. I looked around to see the shocked faces of my classmates and teachers. Everyone was staring at me as if I was some sort of hideous monster. Only one thing came to mind as the stares turned into glares, running. Running away as fast as I could, I still couldn't escape the shouts of "mutant" and "freak" coming from the student body of Bayville High.

I ran and ran until I was positive I was alone. Looking up from the pavement, I found myself at an old playground made up of old teeter-totters and a rusted, creaky swing set. Taking a seat on one of those creaky swings, I pulled my hands out of my pockets to examine them. They were still solid stone, not showing signs of turning back to normal any time soon. I looked down at them in shame at what I have become. A mutant.

Footsteps sounded from behind me, pulling me out of my thoughts. As the feet grew closer, I readied myself for a fight. Seconds later, they stopped. That's it; just stopped. Surprisingly, a small, gentle hand placed itself on my shoulder. Although every bone in my body wanted to turn around and see who this gentle person was, I resisted. Temptation flooded through me the longer we sat there, only to deplete as a soft, feminine voice spoke up.

"Jordan?"

AN so this was my first X-Men: Evolution fic… I honestly don't know what to think of it. So could you please tell me how you like it? If it was good or not? Did you have a favorite part? Do you have any idea who the soft, feminine voice belongs to? Tell m what you think :]