Here are the next three chapters pasted together, still not really happy with how it looks, but it's better than I had it before. And the Kota parts were written by me.

Disclaimer, this is Whateley fanfiction, so take it with a grain of salt. And enjoy.

Downers Pub, Neutral Territory,
Edmonton, Alberta,
December 22nd, 2007

Fly By

Downers Pub was not a place that most people heard of, at least not most regular people. It was a place that the average Joe would pass quickly. With the windowless front, metal door, broken neon sign, the broken bottles out front, it looked like a place that would take in any so-called tough guy break them in half, steal their valuables and spit them out after an hour long beating and other less fun activities if it was feeling generous.

The masked man, wearing the always fashionable colour black, with a less fashionable but very intimidating large pistol on his hip, who came flying out of the night sky looked like a customer who just might survive. He knocked on the door, hard, surprisingly the door didn't even rattle. There was a long wait, as a dozen or so very well hidden cameras took his picture and if someone had very good hearing, they'd hear the sound of cursing and running feet.

The door finally opened and three bouncers with body armour and one of a kind firearms pointed at his chest, greeted the would be customer. “What do you want?” one of them with a too pretty face asked.

“It's just little old Night Flier, and I'm here on peaceful business. Just want a beer and to pass on some information. And if you don't get those guns out of my face, I'll have to shove them somewhere very painful.” When the guns didn't lower, he smirked. “If you do manage to shoot me, you'll have to deal with Crowbar. She needs some serious stress relief right now, a lot of tension, that time of the month, you know how she can get, Sweet Cheeks. Remember the last time you pissed her off kidnapping that kid, she made a necklace out of your teeth, lately she's been talking about getting matching earrings.”

Sweet Cheeks glowered at his hated nickname even as he turned white, and stepped aside. “As long as it's peaceful welcome to Downers.”

The inside of the bar was more like a fancy club, comfortable chairs, tables widely spaced with privacy curtains to help with private conversations, lots of private rooms, half naked waitresses, and a bunch of even less dressed girls sitting off to the side smiling at the customers. It was close to Christmas so the bar was only half full, even criminals like to take vacations. Still there were enough ears for his business.

Night Flier went to the bar and was greeted by a well dressed bartender holding a cold bottle of beer teleported straight from a micro brewery in Germany. “Night Flier, haven't seen you in a while. Your usual?”

“Thank you, Benny. Things have been going pretty well, so I haven't had much call to drop by. I'm hoping you can help me keep it that way,” he said before taking a drink.

“I'm always willing to help out the community. Provided it doesn't push any boundaries.”

“You've heard how the heroes were talking to some people in the community about a doomsday cult right?” he asked, already knowing the answer. “Well a little bird told me that there is a very good chance the cult is coming here, looking for a kid.”

Benny nodded. “That would be foolish of them. We all know how your... partner deals with people like that. But cultists have never been particularly gifted in commonsense.”

“Exactly, and these ones are stupider then most. Pass the word, if anyone hears about people talking about a strange god, rituals, or scoping out schools for young teenage girls, to speak up. If the information is good, certain parties would be willing to overlook minor problems.”

“I'm sure they'll be more than happy to help out. Gods tend to be bad for business. Would you like another?” the bartender asked, as a young woman with just enough clothing on to make a small glove draped herself over Night Fliers' shoulder.

“One for the road, please,” he said, putting five hundred dollars on the bar. Standing up he gave the girl a hundred and a smile. “Sorry not interested kid.”

Taking the beer, he headed out making sure to give Sweet Cheeks a mocking wave.

**
Edmonton, Alberta
December 23rd, 2007

Kota

Staring at the outfit that was waiting on my bed was difficult, I could hear my brothers calling me a 'pretty little toy' as I cried. Sure I'd picked it out with Mrs. Young the other day, it had looked ok in the mirror, not painted on or showing off my body. But it made me look pretty, it made me look beautiful.

My blue jeans, the baggy shirts, they hid me. People looked at the clothes, not me. It was safer that way.

Sitting on the bed, my skin rapidly cooling in the air after my shower, I couldn't bring myself to put on anything more than my underwear.

There was a knock on the door. When I didn't answer, Mrs. Young walked in, closing the door behind her. She sat down beside me, looking so confident in her red dress. Taking the hairbrush on the bedside table, she began combing my hair, humming softly with each stroke. I hadn't had anyone comb my hair since I was three or four, I'd always had short hair. Even after I turned eleven, and realized I wasn't going to get much support from my parents, I never really let it grow longer than an inch or two.

I kind of wish I had more memories like that.

My shoulders and neck relaxed, I hadn't realized they'd been so tense.

“Do you want to come to the banquet today?” she asked, still gently fixing my hair.

“I think so. I've been to a few, they were kind of fun.”

I could hear the smile in her voice. “Alright, you have to get dressed than, unless you want to cause a scandal.”

Picking up the bluish grey t-shirt, I stared at it uncertainly. It was softer and smaller than a mans shirt, the collar was almost non-existent.

“You've worn t-shirts before, haven't you?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“This just the same. A different style than you're used to but nothing else.”

She was right. It was just a shirt. It didn't show anything off, it wasn't even much tighter than what I wore when I was a boy. I slid it on, pulling my hair out of the collar. Then the pants. I'd thought that most pants for girls was skin tight. The jeans I'd bought were always a few sizes too large so they didn't cling to me, but the slacks felt normal. They weren't blue jeans, but they were ok, like the dress pants I'd had to wear for special occasions.

Having gone so far already, putting on the thin jacket with its weird short sleeves that looked like they'd been rolled up and sewn that way, was actually a relief. It hid the low collar of the shirt. I looked in the mirror and then stared at my feet. “I'm pretty.”

She wrapped her arms around my shoulders. “Yes you are, and you will be for a long, long time. You can live in the past and hate it. Or you can find a place where you are comfortable and learn how to enjoy it, defining yourself in the way you want to be seen.”

I forced myself to look in the mirror again, trying to see myself as Mrs. Young saw me. I was pretty, which to her was good. But I wasn't girly like Estelle who would cry or freak out at the drop of a hat, or Theresa who was so giggly and chirpy, I looked more mature, a little stronger, a little harder. I didn't think I could handle wearing a skirt or a dress, they'd made me wear one at Whateley for two days, before I refused and said my blue jeans and t-shirts were my uniform. But the pants, the t-shirt, I could do it. I could do it for Mrs. Young.

She must have seen something shift in me, because Mrs. Young began to grin, squeezing my shoulders and kissed my cheek. I was getting used to stuff like that, and truth be told was starting to look forward to the little hugs and kisses. “Thank you, Kota. Now, can I try something with your hair. Nothing too fancy, but a little different.”

“Ok,” I said a little nervously. The other day she'd taught me how to make a loose braid for my hair so it didn't tangle so badly at night. Even after becoming a girl I hadn't known anything about how to handle my hair, a ponytail was about all I could do for it, I'd had to figure out how to dry it properly from watching videos on the net.

Mrs. Young sat me down in the chair and began doing things to my hair. Her hands moved so quickly I couldn't see what she was doing. Her hands really were a blur. In less than five minutes, she had two braids on either side of my head, just above my temples, wrapped around my scalp, pinned together and buried under the rest of my hair.

My reflection had gone from pretty to beautiful.

“What do you think?” she asked, looking really pleased with herself.

I hated it. I wanted to just shave my hair off and keep shaving whenever it started to grow back. But that wasn't an option, I'd actually tried that for two days until my brothers made me stop. I looked in the mirror again, not looking at me but at the woman who had acted more like a mother for me in two days than my own mother had in ten years. I didn't want to see her stop smiling. “It looks great,” I lied.

**

Estelle

I didn't recognize the girl brushing her teeth in the mirror. The shoulder length blonde hair, the reddish skin, a little less fat on my cheeks, a little bit more hair on my eyebrows, who was I becoming? I took a few extra minutes plucking and sculpting my eyebrows, and applying makeup, focusing on lightening my red skin, with all the parties and get together's that day I wanted to look my best. Annie and Reese had already arrived for breakfast, then we'd go to a big lunch banquet with lots of city officials, and another big party with a few dozen other families for supper.

I wondered how Kota and Theresa would handle things. They could opt out, my parents never forced anyone to go, although they did encourage it. I usually enjoyed it, the food was good, some of my friends would be there, and I got to dress up.

Finishing up in the bathroom, I quickly put on my thigh length, sleeveless, emerald green dress, with a lighter shade of green leggings for the cold. A matching velvet coat with elbow length sleeves kept me warm and added a bit more style to it. I put on an ornate silver necklace and small dangling earrings. I left off my belt and bracelets, they did not match the dress at all and there shouldn't be any need for them. Looking in the mirror again, I could see myself once more.

Hurrying downstairs, I saw Theresa was already up wearing fashionable tight jeans and a long, pink sweater. Her straw blond hair was done up in a fancy french braid, and she had on some nice looking jewelry. Annie and Reese both shook my hand, telling me how pretty I was, and causing me to blush. We sat at the table as Dad finished putting the eggs, toast, waffles, and cut fruit on the table.

As Dad sat down, Mom came in with Kota. Theresa's jaw dropped and I'm pretty sure mine did to when we saw the tom boy. She was wearing dark slacks that were loose around the legs, and just a little tight on her hips, so she showed her figure without flaunting it. A greyish blue shirt with a scalloped collar, hinting at her cleavage, and a short sleeve coat the same colour as her slacks, didn't quite hug her body. Her long dark hair had a side braid that gave it some nice layers and volume while keeping it off of her face as it fell like a waterfall down her back. She looked like a very pretty, young woman. The way she played with her hands and stared at the ground didn't help the image much, but no one would laugh at her clothes or her appearance.

Reese got up right away, putting his hands on her shoulders and beamed. “Kota, you look wonderful!”

“Thank you,” she whispered, the blood rushing to her cheeks.

Theresa was next giving Kota a huge hug, “Oh my god! I've never seen you dressed up before, you look so hot!”

For a moment Kota tensed up, but then she relaxed and patted her friend on the back an honest smile coming to her lips. It seemed like the two were back to normal at least. Everyone else commented on her clothes, nothing over the top, I just told her the clothes looked good on her, which was true and probably wouldn't embarrass her.

Finally we all sat down to the serious business of eating. Theresa looked up from her eggs a little nervously. “So at the big party thing, what exactly are we suppose to do? I've never been to anything important.”

Before Mom or Dad could answer, Kota was speaking. “Stand around listening to some speeches and toasts, eat a lot of food, smile a lot and don't say anything embarrassing. As long as you look like you're having a good time time everyone will be pretty happy with you.” She looked around the table, as Dad started to chuckle. “What? I went to a few parties before.”

Giving her an encouraging smile, I nodded in agreement. “Kota's right. It shouldn't be too boring though. There will be a bunch of people our age there, and as long as you can talk about music or movies, you'll have something to talk about. And the food is always good.”

“Really? What if they ask where I'm from, or about my family?” Theresa asked.

“Just tell them that you're a family friend of ours and you're visiting for Christmas. Don't tell them you're a mutant, but anything else is fine,” Dad told her.

“As long as you relax and enjoy the food everything will be fine, Theresa. We've brought lots of teenagers to events like these and it's never been a problem,” Mom encouraged her. “Just follow Kota and Estelle's lead if you get nervous.”

“But what about the silver wear? What spoon should I use for soup, the movies always seem to make that important?” Theresa kept panicking.

“Start on the outside and work your way in,” Kota said.

“And if you're you're not sure, take a few seconds to admire the food, and then look at Kota or me to see what we're using,” I offered.

She took a deep breath to calm herself, then looked at Kota and I. “Ok, I think I can handle it. But you guys have to help me if I run into trouble. Promise?”

“Definitely!” I said.

Kota patted her on the back. “That's what friends are for.”

The talk shifted to other things, funny stories, plans for Christmas, and things like that. As we ate, I noticed that Theresa was acting completely normally, as if she didn't have a care in the world. Every few minutes she'd look at Kota out of the corner of her eye, as if making sure the girl was alright. My opinion of the bubbly, hug loving girl went up several notches.

**

There were about five hundred people at the Christmas lunch, every city council member and their family, provincial and federal members of parliament for Edmonton, business people, group leaders, the chief of police and a number of other officers, several reporters, and anyone who was anyone. My parents were invited because as the personal assistants of the only full time superheroes, they had a special place in the city hierarchy, even so we were seated near the back, and when we arrived only a handful of reporters bothered to take pictures of us. Which suited Kota and Theresa just fine, they didn't seem to have any idea what to do as the camera's flashed and shouted a few questions at my parents about Fly By and Prairie Sun. I simply smiled and waved at the camera, taking the attention away from the two girls.

Once inside we had to go through a metal detector, and there were a lot more police officers than I was used to seeing at an event like this. Probably because of what had happened in Vancouver, no one wanted to take any chances. I was really happy to know they were taking things seriously, one attempted sacrifice was enough for me.

When that was over with we got in line to shake the mayors and other elected officials hands. This was the most boring part of the party, and I would have been quite happy to do without it, but it was part of the ritual. I just wished that there were some of my friends close by to talk to, unfortunately they were well ahead of us or behind us. So I just pointed out different people to Kota and Theresa, saying who they were and commenting on their clothes with Theresa. Kota silently rolled her eyes and tried not to yawn.

Twenty minutes later we were free to wander around a bit talking with friends before lunch started. I headed off to a group of girls I knew with the others in tow. My friends had to do a double take when they saw me because of all my changes.

“El, is that you?” Wendy, a girl I'd gone to public school with for seven years asked.

“Yeah, its me, Wendy. Decided I wanted a change and went a little nuts,” I joked.

Taylor, another old friend, reached out to touch my hair. “Oh my god, I can't believe you cut your hair. I couldn't do that!”

“It's nothing,” I lied. “If I don't like it I'll just grow it out again. Anyways, these are some friends of my family, Theresa and Kota.”

Introductions were made, and Theresa and I jumped into the conversation about Beyonce, Nelly Furtado, Justin Timberlake and other singers. I noticed Kota miming shooting herself in the head, before wandering away. She seemed to be doing alright so I didn't say anything.

**

Enough time had passed for shaking hands and making connections so the mayor called for everyone to take their seats. Theresa and I had to scramble a little to find Kota, since she didn't know where our table was. I was shocked a second time, when I saw her talking to a group of boys, she was smiling and playing with her hair, nodding in agreement with something one of the guys had said.

“Kota, it's time to listen to the speeches,” I said, interrupting their conversation about some video game.

“Oh joy,” she said. “Bye guys, maybe we can talk later.”

As we walked away, the guys were quick to agree and ask for her number.

Theresa was smiling. “So you weren't sure if you liked guys?”

“We were just talking. We like the same video games and stuff, and Jonathon wants to learn Parkour this summer,” Kota said.

Theresa and I shared a look. “Ok, whatever you say Kota,” Theresa said.

“Really, we were just talking. I don't even know if I like boys,” she insisted.

As Kota proclaimed her non-sexuality, I was diplomatic and shut up.

Reaching the table, got to sit through a short speech from the mayor, and then began eating while some local bands and singers performed. The turkey and ham were really good, the vegetables a little overcooked, and the soup was fantastic, but the dessert was best of all, a piece of chocolate cake dripping with chocolate sauce and a wonderful vanilla ice cream beside it.

They had placed us at a table with two other families, they hadn't paid much attention to our ages so there were a brother and sister under ten on one side, and a seventeen year old boy on the other. That was a bit of a bust, and the three of us mostly talked to each other, making fun of a really bad singer who tried to modernize 'Silent Night', and saying how cute one male singer was to Kota's discomfort.

After lunch was over, Mom and Dad excused themselves, leaving us alone to listen to more speeches. We mostly ignored them, until Mom and Dad stepped out on stage, with Prairie Sun and Fly By.

I chuckled as Theresa and Kota did a double take, seeing my parents, looking like regular everyday people, standing at the side of the stage just visible to the audience, while they were also in their superhero identity waving and mugging to the audience. It was actually pretty easy. They had purchased a devise that gave an illusion of my parents civilian identity, and could do basic things like avoid obstacles and wave people away. It let them appear in two places at once, and they made sure that there were people in the know to play interference for them so the illusions weren't discovered by someone asking a question or bumping into them.

It helped throw off potential suspicion when they had video evidence of them being together at the same time.

My parents gave a rousing speech about the spirit of Christmas, working together, goodwill towards men, and other things, donated a check for a hundred thousand dollars to the local food banks, and encouraged everyone to give what they could for a good cause. Then they and my illusionary parents left the stage talking quietly to each other. Fifteen minutes later, Mom and Dad were back in their seats, getting looks of awe from the little kids.

Another hour of speeches and music, and it was time to go home and prepare for supper.

**

Kota

Sitting in my room relaxing after the big banquet, still in the fancy clothes I was beginning to like a little more, I thought about the lunch that had ended about an hour ago. It had been about what I thought, a little more interesting than the country club and company banquets my parents had taken me to, but only that the food was better and the people more important. That wasn't really what I was thinking about.

The important thing was the note in my hand. It had a number on it, a boys number.

Simply getting inside the hall had been an experience. The photographers taking our pictures, had made me want to hide. I had an image of my parents and brothers seeing the pictures and coming to get me, forcing me to wear pretty dresses again, locking me in my room. Mrs. Young had put a reassuring hand on my shoulder to get me moving. Estelle seemed to be in her element, waving to the cameras excitedly, getting their attention focused on her instead of me. It had been enough to let me hurry past the gauntlet.

Then after shaking the mayors hand, Estelle had taken us to see her friends. The talk of singers and songs I didn't like, was worse than listening to a Powers Theory lecture. So I'd wandered away looking for something interesting. And I'd found it with a blond haired boy talking to his friends.

I'd heard Jonathon talking about wanting to learn parkour. He'd been really excited about it, talking about learning some moves from the net, and practicing in his garage. But as I listened he was making a lot of mistakes about the moves, what the purpose was, and why you should try it. I hadn't been shy, I hadn't even thought that I was a girl, it just seemed natural to introduce myself and start talking about it. They'd paid attention to me when I explained to them how to do some moves, and described some of my better runs. They hadn't really seemed to be just looking at me as a pretty girl, but actually listening to me. I'd felt normal for the first time in a long time.

And then Jonathon had asked if we could meet later. When I told him I was just in town for the holiday, he'd seemed disappointed, and seeing the crestfallen expression actually made me feel bad, I liked seeing him smile. So I took his number, and told him I'd try to come for the summer, and maybe we could talk sometime before we left. When he gave me his big goofy grin, I'd felt warm inside.

The other guys started talking about hockey, which wasn't really my thing, but Chicago had its own team so I could follow along and not sound clueless. That and then video games had distracted me from the weird feelings, at least until Theresa and Estelle had found me playing with my hair learning about the newest games I hadn't had a chance to play. And apparently playing with your hair means you like a guy.

I didn't know that.

Now that we were back home with a few hours to relax before the dinner party I just wanted to think. So with a few minutes of peace I laid down, after taking off the jacket so it didn't wrinkle, and tried to sort out my feelings.

When I first got to Whitman, I'd thought I'd have some fun watching the girls in the showers and things. Sex was the farthest thing from my mind after what my... brothers had done, and I didn't have the right equipment, but I could admire from a distance. Some of the girls were pretty, some were beautiful in a creepy kind of way, and for the first week or two I'd found it nice. But then it had become boring, even embarrassing, trying to catch little glances. Sure they were half dressed and occasionally naked, but the girls I was interested in had the same things I did, what was the point in looking?

I brought my knees up to my chin. I'd found myself looking at boys, their chests, their butts, other parts. I'd told myself I was jealous, I believed it. When I heard Theresa talking about her boyfriend, or other girls talking about cute guys, my mind kind of recoiled. But I kept listening, it was for research I had to fake it as a girl so I needed to know what they talked about. I'd even believed it.

But could I really like boys?

Someone knocked on my door.

“Come in,” I said.

Therese came in, not wearing her fake skin. She said it got itchy after a few hours, so she her regular unnatural black, until it was time to get ready again. “Hey Kota, how ya doing?”

“Confused. But better than I've felt in months.” It was nice that she was talking to me again. She'd had a freak out thinking I'd been lying to her and had been watching her naked. I don't know how she'd worked it out, I wasn't up to explaining much to her, but she'd seem to be cool with everything that morning. Since she was my best... only friend, I'd almost cried when she'd hugged me in her overly enthusiastic way and gushed about my clothes.

She sat down beside me. “Confused about boys?”

I bit my lip not willing to admit it.

She gave me a wicked smile. “Maybe I should be worried about you making eyes at Tim? If you try to steal him away from me, I'll fill your underwear with sand, while you're wearing it.”

I looked at her like she was crazy. I'd met Timothy who was a nice guy, but he was weird looking, with crystal plates creating a mosaic across his skin. He could hypnotize people with them, sometimes accidentally if he was walking around shirtless, which made him doubly weird in my book. “Your boyfriend is safe from me. Believe me.”

She gave a superior smile. “Good. Anyways we both know I'm much prettier than you are, so there's no way he'd leave me in the dust.”

“I'll be sure to let everyone in Whitman know that you're the prettiest, and Dickinson. I wonder if I can get you a trophy? Or a crown might be better. What do they call those little crowns that women wear?”

“A tiara. And don't you dare tell people that,” she said, poking me with a finger. “If you did I'd have the Venus Club breaking down my door with contracts.”

“Hey no messing with the clothes! I actually like these now.” When my friend finally stopped poking me, I looked at her seriously. “How do you know if you like a guy?”

Theresa looked like she was about to give a quick answer, but paused realizing I was being serious. “Well, when I saw Timothy, I thought he looked so good. The way his crystals lit up like rainbows, his strong arms, his rainbow eyes. Even his ass looked nice. I couldn't stop thinking about him, and when he looked at me I was so nervous but really happy at the same time, especially when he smiled at me in class and offered to help me with my Spanish.”

I hadn't been nervous, but seeing Jonathon smile had made me happy. And I was thinking about teaching him parkour in the summer if I came back. I groaned, pulling a pillow over my head. I wasn't going to cry or complain. There was nothing certain yet, I liked parkour and if I could teach someone who was friendly and treated me like one of the guys, great. It didn't mean I liked him, liked him.

It didn't.

**

Estelle had changed into more casual tight pink jeans and a matching pink sweater when her parents called us to the entrance way. Theresa was wearing the same outfit she'd worn earlier, and I was wearing black jeans and a black turtleneck sweater. Theresa and Mrs. Young had helped me pick the clothes up the other day. The jeans were a little too tight for my taste, but there was still space between my skin and the denim, and the sweater covered my butt, so it wasn't bad. I just had to tell myself I'd worn jeans and sweaters as a boy, these were just a different style.

“I love your outfit Kota. It goes really well with your hair,” Estelle said, smiling.

“Thanks. You look good to. Very... pink,” I finished lamely, after trying to think of a good compliment.

Theresa giggled. “When complimenting clothes, just say it matches their eyes, skin or hair, or it makes them look fantastic.”

What was wrong with just saying you liked the clothes? It was easier being a guy.

“You know,” Estelle said, looking at my face critically, “if you put on a bit of red lipstick and some blush on your-”

“NO!” I practically snarled, remembering how happy my brothers had been getting the beautician to put makeup on me.

She jumped back in surprise and a bit of fear. “Sorry! I didn't mean anything!”

Taking a deep breath to calm myself, I didn't let myself look at her. She had been trying to help. “It's ok. I just don't like makeup. You didn't know.”

Mrs. Young came walking in, followed by her husband. “Is everything alright?” she asked, eyeing both of us.

Estelle looked at me cautiously, letting me know wordlessly she wasn't going to say anything. “Nothing important. You look good, Mrs. Young. I... love how your shirt goes with your glasses,” I said, looking at Theresa and Estelle for support.

They both nodded approvingly. I had just been guessing that her silvery blouse matched her wrap around shades well enough to compliment.

“Thank you, Kota. I wasn't sure if it they would go well together, but I took a chance. All of you girls look wonderful, but I think you need just a little more to get the perfect look.” She held out a hand and Mr. Young placed a small jewelry box in it. “The black looks good on you, Kota, but you need some colour. I hope you it's not too much to ask you to wear this necklace.”

Gingerly I took box from her and opened it up. It was a silver necklace with a finally crafted bird erupting from roaring flames. “It's beautiful,” I whispered.

“It's a phoenix. When I saw it I thought it would be perfect for you. I hope it's not too girly,” she said.

It wasn't girly, it was gorgeous. It looked powerful, a little scary even, like it would fly away at any second wreathed in flames. I couldn't speak, so I just shook my head, taking it out of the box very carefully. Mrs. Young took it from my hands, and clipped it around my neck so it hung just a little below my neck.

“And for you Theresa, Steve thought you'd like this pin.” Mrs. Young said, while Mr. Young gave her a multicoloured crystal flower that was almost finished blossoming. I didn't know a thing about crystals, but the pink petals, green stem and leaves, and the sparkling dew, didn't look like it was simple coloured glass.

Theresa squealed and put it on with a loud thank you, before running the nearest mirror to look at it. Five seconds later she was back giving hugs and squealing some more.

“Now Estelle, we love what you've done with your hair, and we thought this would emphasize it a little bit.” Mrs. Young took a larger box from her husband and pulled out a brilliant blue and gold butterfly hair clip, studded with tiny diamonds. She almost gingerly put it in Estelle's hair, carefully deciding the best place before she touched her daughters hair.

Watching closely I saw Estelle wince when her Moms fingers pressed against her scalp, and Mrs. Young pulled her hand away as soon the clip was in place. I felt a surge of sympathy for Estelle for the first time. I felt even more for her mother. My mother hadn't cared about me, so we had never been close, never hugged except when in front of other people, and certainly never kissed after I was six. But I could see how much Mrs. Young wanted to touch her daughter, the way her hand hovered over Estelle, not quite touching, the warm smile fading a little, taking a moment to straighten Estelle's sweater careful to only touch the fabric and not put much if any pressure on Estelle herself.

I could finally understand why Estelle was jealous.

With our outfits ready, we threw on our coats and headed for the garage.

**

The party was being held at an actual mansion. It was only three stories tall, but it was about twice as wide as the Young house, and probably half again on the sides. There was an actual parking lot just to the side of the house where about a dozen vehicles were already parked. We got out and an actual valet came out of the house to take our names and drive the car a hundred feet.

We stepped inside and were greeted by the LeBlanc's, who were big shots in some oil company. While the adults made some jokes, Estelle, Theresa and I were directed to head to the basement where the teenagers were having there own party.

The basement was better then most houses, just down the stairs was a big room with couches, a stereo playing modern Christmas songs, tables with snacks and drinks that was being quickly depleted. An open door showed a few teenagers playing video games on a huge screen, another was playing some movie, and I heard more stuff going on down the hallway.

Like at the banquet, Estelle introduced Theresa and I to some of her friends. I didn't have much to say when they started talking about gossip, so I wandered off to grab a drink and a piece of cake with Theresa. Somehow Theresa found a girl to talk to about a chick flick with, so I was left to my own devices. As usual I was left feeling alone and adrift in a crowd of people I didn't know, not knowing how to act.

Finishing the cake, I took my soda into the game room.

There were actually three consoles each one playing a different game, heading over to a fighting game, a guy stood up and gave me his spot on the couch. “Thanks,” I said.

“My pleasure. I haven't seen you around before, I'm Tyler,” he said, smiling with perfect teeth.

“Kota. I'm just visiting some friends of the family for Christmas.”

He sat down on the arm of the couch, a little too close for my comfort. “Let me guess, you're staying with the Young family.”

My brow furrowed. “How the hell did you guess that?”

“They're always bringing family friends to these parties. Not many of them are as pretty as you are though.”

I hated him.

“So... what can you tell me about Mr. and Mrs. Young?” I was desperate to change the conversation, and I kind of wanted to know what others thought of them.

Tyler seemed to realize his attempt at flattery had died a painful death. “You should know more about them then I do. I just know the rumours.”

“I just met them a few days ago, so I'm interested in the rumours.”

“Ok,” he said, looking at me a little strangely. “Well I guess the big thing is that every few years people will say they're actually Fly By and Prairie Sun, it never gets very far. When they first started working with the heroes, there was actually an expose about it. Then the Young's had a joint interview on live TV with the heroes, and sued the tv station for slander and making them a target for supervillains. That's how they made their first few million.” He smirked a little, I wasn't sure why.

“They've made a fortune from playing the stock market. Someone actually claimed that Mrs. Young was using psychic powers to make so much money. That got the MCO involved and everything. When the MCO said she wasn't psychic, they took the guy who pointed the finger at her to the human rights commission for discrimination.”

“Wait, they think she's a mutant?” I asked.

He gave me another odd look. “Yeah. It's not talked about, but it's not exactly a secret at least for people who know her. Why do you think she always wears those sunglasses?”

“Oh. What are her powers? I haven't really seen her do anything.”

“My parents saw her do something with light once. It wasn't much just a couple of sparks from her fingers she used once when the power went out and they were in the basement. Pretty lame power.” Tyler gave me a smile, letting me know how happy he was to be showing off his knowledge.

“Yeah, I can see why she wouldn't want to show off if that's all she can do.” I knew from watching the gadgeteers and devisors at Whateley how easy faking a little light show would be. And doing a live interview would be doable if they got a wizard or two shapeshifters to help out. I wondered what Mr. Anderson would make of their tactics to keep a secret identity while having her still admitting to being a mutant.

“And no one minds?” I asked, not quite believing it.

He shrugged. “They work with superheroes, and through them know almost every official in the province by their first name, along with a lot of other movers and shakers. They donate at least a million dollars a year to charity and let people know about it. And if anyone says anything too nasty, they have their lawyers on speed dial. No one wants to look at them cross eyed because of the shit storm they can cause. My parents wish they had half the influence those two do.”

“Wow. I just thought they were really nice.”

He put his hand on my shoulder, opening his mouth to say something else. I grabbed his hand and shoved it away. He looked surprised and a little annoyed but didn't say anything, as I glared at him. Fortunately for me, one of the guys playing the video game had died bloodily and threw down his controller in disgust. Seeing a chance to get away from Tyler the flirt, I didn't quite shout, “Hey can I try?”

**

An hour later with a lot of kills to my name, I had to hand over the controller and take a bathroom break. There was some cheering as I left the room, half the audience loved how I'd cleaned the floor with all opponents, the other half were happy I was leaving.

As I left the bathroom that was bigger then my dorm and at the far end of the basement away from the rec areas, three older girls came up to me, spreading out so I couldn't get away easily. “So you're the hopeless case this year?” the redheaded girl who was also the biggest asked.

“Uh, what?”

“The charity victim who's parents don't want her,” she sneered. “We always get one or two of you whenever Estelle comes to a party.”

That hit too close to home. Something caught in my throat keeping me from speaking.

“I think you're going to make her cry Amanda,” the brunette said. “Did you get those clothes from a charity bin?”

“Get out of my way,” I said.

The red head, Amanda, laughed. “Why? You want to go back to your video games, being adored by the gamer geeks.”

“I don't think so,” the last girl with dyed blue hair said. “I think she's more a dike. She and that other girl with the weird face are probably lovers, that's why she isn't at home for Christmas.”

I didn't want to start a fight at the party, it could cause Mrs. Young trouble, but I really wanted to punch them. Shutting up, I pushed past them and headed back to the party. Amanda grabbed my sleeve and pulled, I felt it rip a little.

“What the fuck do you think you're doing!” I shouted furiously. I didn't really like the sweater, but it was a gift from Mrs. Young and the bitch had damaged it. I had to stop myself from punching her, Mr. Anderson's words came to mind, 'Discretion keeps you alive, fists can kill you.'

“Oh I'm sorry, I didn't know your clothes were so badly made,” Amanda said, her voice dripping with sarcasm as her eyes danced with glee.

I heard people coming towards us, probably because they heard my shouting. Estelle pushed her way to the front. “What's going on? Oh hell, Amanda what have you done now?” she asked.

“We were just talking, then she walked past and her sweater caught on something. She really should get some better clothes.”

I didn't take my eyes off the girl. “You liar! You grabbed me and ripped it on purpose.”

“Can't we go one party without you trying something?” Estelle asked, stepping in front of me. Great, now I was being defended by a girl who was younger than me. I wanted to shrivel up and die of embarrassment.

“What can I say, I don't like freaks like you. And your 'friends' should stay in their place.”

I smelled ozone, and saw Estelle's hair start to rise like it was full of static, I'd seen that happen before when sparks shot out of her hands the previous night. Definitely not something that would be good here. Grabbing her by the shoulders, I tried to get her attention on me. “Come on Estelle, really not worth it.”

Amanda made sure it didn't work. “Yes Estelle, go and run to your mother. She knows all about being a freak.”

A spark shocked my hand. Without really making a conscious decision, I swung past Estelle and punched Amanda in the stomach. It wasn't hard enough to do real damage, but for the skinny girl who wasn't expecting it, it was very painful. Amanda fell to the floor wailing.

Estelle turned to me looking shocked at what I had done, but her hair was flat again and there were no sparks, which was the most important thing.

With all eyes on me, and the sound of people running up the stairs calling for help, I just wanted to sink into the floor and die.

What would Mrs. Young say?

**

Estelle

I watched as Amanda rolled on the ground clutching her stomach. Punching her was something I'd wanted to do for a long time, but I'd never actually do it. Kota just stood there, fists at the ready, looking upset but determined to cause more mayhem if she had to.

Several adults came down the stairs as everyone else just watched, Mom and Dad were with them of course. Dad got between Kota and Amanda, taking in everything and making sure without actually touching that nothing seemed to be broken on the crying girl. Mom saw the look on Kota's face, grabbed her by the arm and marched back to the common room. Another guest Dr. Saxx, knelt down beside Amanda, and after checking with Amanda's mother who was shaking her hands and crying as loudly as her daughter that he could look her over.

He pulled up her shirt to look at her stomach, and after a moment poking and prodding a small bruise, he said she would be fine, but should take it easy for the rest of the night.

Amanda's father who was listening to everything, nodded his head gratefully that his daughter was fine and asked, very loudly, “What happened?!”

One of Amanda's friends, I thought her name was Kelly, spoke first. “We were just walking to the bathroom Mr. Price, when that girl said Amanda ripped her sweater! It was all her fault.”

I hadn't seen what had happened, but I had to speak up for Kota. “Kota was trying to walk away when she called my Mom and us freaks.”

“Even if that is so, and I have trouble believing that, there is no excuse for that girl to punch my daughter,” Mr. Price said.

“Let's ask Kota her side, shall we,” Dad said, gently pushing me off to the side.

We all walked into the main room where Kota was sitting beside Mom on the couch. The girl was as white as a ghost, and it looked like she was holding Mom's hand so tightly it would have hurt anyone else, but she looked up at the angry adults without cringing.

Mom stood up in front of Kota. “Mr. Price, I am very sorry abut what happened. I assure you that Kota will be punished for her actions.”

“That is hardly enough for assault, I should call the police.”

Dad stepped forward. “For a single punch, that may have been provoked?”

“Assault is assault. And I don't believe my daughter would dream of hurting another soul, unlike your... foster child.”

I snorted. Amanda would do something like that if she thought she thought she could get away with it. That earned me a glare from pretty much everyone, except Kota, who had somehow gotten even paler at hearing about calling the police. Theresa who was standing close by looked just as scared, pulling her phone out of her purse. I had no idea who she could think about phoning, but I knew Kota needed some support. I stepped up and grabbed Kota's hand.

“If you want to talk about assault, than certainly lets call the police. Damaging her sweater could be considered assault, and calling people freaks is definitely harassment,” Mom said.

Dad and Mr. Price both began talking over each other, getting louder with every word, when rescue came from the hosts of the parties, Mr. and Mrs. Grasse. “Excuse me, we are trying to have a Christmas party here,” Mrs. Grasse said, as her husband stepped between everyone. “Unless either of you want to call the police, I'm going to ask both of you to leave and sort it out in private.”

Mom and Mr. Price glared at each other, while Dad turned and began ushering us out. “I don't see any point in this going further. As my wife said, we will see that Kota is punished appropriately and will make sure she doesn't see Amanda in the future. Let's go. Kota, we will discuss this later.”

Mr. Price stomped off to see his wife and daughter as we headed up the stairs.

**

The car ride was silent. When Kota tried to talk, Mom told her to keep quiet in a tone of voice that had made criminals sit down and shut up. I was pretty hungry having only eaten some of the snacks rather than a real meal. From the growling stomachs everyone else seemed to be in the same situation.

We finally made it home, and were marched into the dining room. Mom made a quick call ordering in some Chinese food while Dad sat down and glared at the two of us, with Theresa caught in the crossfire because she was sitting so close to Kota it looked like they were joined at the hip.

Mom came back and sat down. Dad leaned forward. “What happened?”

Kota took a deep breath. “I was protecting Estelle.”

“What?!” I practically shouted.

She looked me in the eye. “When the girl... Amanda called your mom a freak, you started sparking a little, like last night. I didn't want them to find out you were a mutant.”

“Estelle, you've been using your power without being charged up?” Mom asked.

I turned to Mom. “Only when I get angry. I've kept it under control, mostly.”

Dad rubbed his temples. “Why didn't you tell us? This is serious, you could hurt someone if you're not careful.”

My eyes went to my shoes. It hadn't been that bad, just a few sparks sometimes at school and most of the time I knew they were coming and just ran to the bathroom or hid my hands in my desk. I didn't want people knowing about it at all. “I had it under control,” I finally muttered.

“Obviously you didn't if you were shooting sparks over a simple insult,” Mom said. “What do you think would happen if you suddenly began arcing in class?”

“It hasn't happened,” I whispered.

“It almost did tonight,” Dad said. “I'm calling Whateley tomorrow.”

“YOU CAN'T!” I yelled. I didn't want to leave my school or my friends. Not so suddenly, not like this.

“Estelle, you can't control your powers. You could hurt someone, at least at Whateley they'll be able to handle things if somethings goes wrong,” Dad told me.

I looked at Mom, but she was staring at her lap, refusing to look at me. I tried to think of some argument, something I could say to change his mind. A jolt of inspiration hit me. “Aren't you scared about what happened to Paragon?”

Dad suddenly looked nervous, and Mom was startled enough to look up. “What do you know about her?”

“She was murdered, because she was... was changing into a girl.” I had only heard Dad mention that the person was murdered, so I was taking a wild guess. I must have been close to the mark because Mom turned white. “If I go now, everyone will know I'm a girl turning into a boy.”

“She's right,” Kota said to my surprise. “There's a girl at school who's been bullied pretty badly because she has a penis. She was even sent to the hospital pretty early in the term.”

Theresa twisted around. “You mean Ayla Goodkind? I thought it was just because she was a Goodkind.”

“No. I heard she changes for martial arts in the instructors room because of it. And she's been asking around to change her bit.”

“How did you learn that? I didn't even know that except for some gossip I thought was just a bunch of lies.”

“I listen. Especially to stuff like that,” Kota said quietly.

I jumped at the opportunity. “See! If I go now I'll be bullied and maybe worse. I can't go yet, not until I'm- I'm a boy.”

Dad looked like he was about to say something, when Mom put her hand on his and motioned to the stairs. “You three do something down here, quietly. When the food gets here use the cash in the kitchen and serve yourselves,” she said.

We nodded, and waited until they'd gone upstairs to talk.

“Thanks Kota. For everything,” I said.

“Welcome,” she said with a shrug.

“So... do you think you'll be coming to Whateley this term?” Theresa asked.

It was my turn to shrug. “I don't know. I don't want to, I want to finish the year here. But they're right, I could hurt someone.” Tears started to well up, all I'd wanted was to go for another few months as a normal girl, was that too much to ask?

Kota patted my back a little awkwardly and harder than I was used to. “You're mom will do what's right. And Whateley isn't bad, you'll do ok.”

“But what about the bullying and stuff?”

“It's not so bad, just avoid a few people and learn to stay in the background or defend yourself and it's a lot like regular high school,” Theresa assured me. “Sure some of the bullies can be really bad, but most of the time its just pushing, shoving and pranks. And you've got an advantage.”

“Really, like what?” I asked, not believing I could have a single advantage considering what I was turning into.

“You're part of the Fly By and Prairie Sun club,” she explained, which didn't actually explain anything.

“What?”

“Do you know how many kids your parents have helped send to Whateley?” she asked. “Right now there's six of us from freshmen to seniors. We're not a club or anything, but your parents have let us know that if something gets out of hand they expect us to help each other out. If we know that Ron, a junior, needs cash for a school uniform because he destroyed his last one, again, we'll pool our pocket money together and help him out. If someone has been giving me a hard time, the others will get together and talk with the person. We don't really hang out or anything, but we keep an eye on each other. Now think about what we'll do for you because of your parents.”

I didn't really know what to say about that. “You guys really help each other?”

She nodded. “For Ron and I, your parents saved our lives. For the others, they helped them out when things were looking bad, and a few of them talk about you to, even if Phil said you are a lot like his annoying little sister. He usually smiles when he says that. So yeah, if your parents ask us to do something, we'll do it. We owe them.”

“So that's how you got TNT off your back,” Kota said, sounding surprised.

“And why they didn't go after you,” Theresa said. “I asked the gang to put in a word for you when they went to thre- ah, talk to the morons.”

“Thank you,” Kota said, blushing and looking at her knees.

“So it might not be as bad as I think?” I asked hopefully.

Theresa leaned over Kota to pat my knee. “We'll try to make it ok. Just don't go picking fights with some of the big groups, especially the Alpha's or Team Kimba. The Alpha's are scary assholes, and the Kimba's are crazy.”

“What about the other groups?”

“Most of them are ok. If you get on their bad side, they might beat you up or give you a hard time, but it will be a one time deal unless you keep annoying them. And if you keep out of the way you won't have any problems. Kota is so shy, she hasn't gotten into any trouble at all.”

“I just want to be left alone. I'm not really that shy,” Kota protested.

“Sure. I believe you,” Theresa said with a grin. “Anyways, I think we can safely say that the Fly By and Prairie Sun group will have a new member as soon as we get back to Whateley, so you'll have plenty of people watching your back.”

We both looked at her in confusion.

“Kota, after seeing how Mrs. Young has taken you under her wing, I think everyone is going to get an email asking us to help you out if you need it. And when you finally get there Estelle, I'll bet you twenty your Mom will ask us to keep an eye on you in person.”

“I'm not taking that bet,” I said, knowing Mom would do just that.

The conversation kind of died after that, so we turned on the tv to watch some Christmas specials and waited for the food. When the food finally arrived, we piled the food onto our plates, saving two generous portions for Mom and Dad, and returned to the tv room to eat off of tv trays as we watched the Grinch steal Christmas.

We had just finished putting the dishes into the dish washer, when Mom and Dad called me upstairs. With a fearful look at the two girls who I was starting to consider friends, I headed upstairs.

Mom and Dad were in the office they shared, and from their expressions they'd had one of their arguments. They rarely shouted at each other, and they never argued in front of me, but I knew the signs. From the tight lips, narrowed eyes, the flaring of Moms nostrils, and the way Dad clenched his hands, this couldn't have been an easy discussion.

“Estelle, please sit down,” Dad said.

I sat on the leather couch that was there for visitors and relaxing.

“You're Mother and I have talked about it, and we've reached a decision.”

I bit my lip. I was going to Whateley, I knew it. They were afraid I was going to hurt someone and I had to leave for everyone's safety. I fought back the tears.

“You're going to train very hard over the rest of the break. If you can prove to us you have control of your powers, you can keep going to school until the end of the year. If you still have outbursts, you'll go with Theresa and Kota to Whateley,” he told me.

My jaw dropped. I had a chance of really saying goodbye to my friends and not having anyone thinking I was a freak. It was a small chance, but I'd take it.

I gave them each a quick hug, thanking them and giving them air kisses.