I'd been right; I shouldn't have come to school today. As soon as I had, Sam had took me aside, and now we were 'chatting'. I'd briefly wondered why we couldn't chat before this, since we'd walked to school, but her first sentence had clenched it.

The school was noisy after all, and with her whispering, there was no way even our friends would overhear us by chance from this little nook under the stairs. We could also see anyone coming close enough to hear us, which was just perfect to be told what I didn't want to hear.

"You're sure?"

"You can look."

Right, five minutes and google would confirm what Sam was telling me. Confirm that my stupid body seemed to like guys. Or at least, liked the smell of guys; it was apparently a biological imperative from the days when we lived in caves and huddled around fires. Just the thought of... snuggling? sidling up to? Someone like Ricky or Ralph... no, bad thoughts! Bad thoughts!

"I need to purge my mind with fire."

Sam gave me a deadpan look, then a small smile. "Chocolate."

Chocolate would probably help. Chocolate always seemed to help. Stupid body.

"Does everyone feel like this? Do you feel like this?"

Sam shook her head. Figures, I'd be the weird one. Again.

"Varies." Sam explained a bit louder, and wiggled her hand at me.

I wasn't ready to say anything out loud just yet. "So, it comes and goes? Or it's different for everyone."

"Yes. Hormones." Sam whispered at me. Then, of course, the bell rang, and we needed to get to class.

I was glad that Jeanette had stayed a few steps away and so probably hadn't heard anything. She fell in behind me as we stepped around the stairs, joining the throng. Sam waved as she left me to the tender mercies of the school, her smile seemingly fixed in place.

"Did you hear any of that?" Morbid curiosity compelled my voice.

Jeanette answered instantly. "Yes. I heard some of what you discussed, and can infer the meaning of the rest with the clues provided. However, you should not worry. I hold your privacy paramount in my thoughts, second only to your safety, as all good maids should."

Well, that was something. So only Jeanette and Sam knew. And all my other bots. And Maggie, who I'd come to asking about the smell as well, thinking maybe she might know. Maggie, who loved to gossip as much as anyone.

I was doomed.

No, I couldn't think that way; the entire school didn't know about Sam's favorite pajamas or what her guilty pleasure movie was, so there was a chance they wouldn't find out my secret shame. Still, if this was a problem for me, even if I was unusual, then surely other girls had this issue? How did they deal with it? Just ignore it? Was it a hormone thing or a scent thing? If it was hormones, it would be easier to formulate a blocker for it; I didn't really want to shut off my nose just to make it stop.

"Mistress."

Right, shop thinking was later, school was now. It was okay; I could deal with this.

I'd be talking more with Sam; how could she just dump this on me right at the start of the school day?!? It was criminal, was what it was. And after I let her crash my drone all last night!

True, Ricky had done most of the crashing, but Sam had gotten her licks in; that little one was never going to be the same... at least until I rebuilt it. Right, later.

I slipped into the classroom and tried very hard not to smell anything - or anyone. Nope, no smells here, thank you traitorous nose. Just the smell of paper and glue and wood from somewhere. Pencil shavings? A broken desk? It didn't matter; the smell didn't exist. None of them did.
Mr. Welsh walked in right after I got through the door, and I ducked into my seat. Jeanette took her usual spot in the back of the class and started in on her statue impression.

Ricky leaned over. "You okay? You look a little... I don't know, off."

I pointed back at my maid, the perfect excuse: "She isn't moving, so I must be fine."

Ralph was also giving me a once-over. He caught me looking and shrugged.

Nice to know my electrical activity was normal.

Mr. Welsh gave us all a stare, and we shut up so he could take roll call.

When he put his class book down, I opened my notebook. It should be okay if I was careful; I'd been getting better about this. I didn't need notes in this class anymore, and I'd be driving myself more crazy than normal today if I didn't at least design something.

So I'd redesign the drone that Sam had smashed into our tree last night. Preferably into something with better lights. The normal running lights were fine to see it by, but they were woeful at giving enough visibility to fly at night through the camera.

Maybe I could expand the case a bit? I could add something better than a simple light if I did. After all, even a rudimentary sonar would be more effective than the best lighting I could power inside the frame. then again, the draw from sonar might be too much too....

Right, just focus on the simple stuff for now. the physics of flight and the fuselage would be fine to speculate about and wouldn't mess me up for the day. I could control this.

Still, the sonar did haunt me a little. A sketch of a basic one shouldn't be too hard, and after that, I could just fine tune the size versus the range later. More of a proof of concept, really, nothing special at all.

Mr. Welsh stopped writing, and stopped droning. tuning him out was getting far too easy; even if he didn't care anymore about it. Class was nearly over, and everyone was packing up. I'd come close, but I hadn't lost it. Another to add to my growing list of wins, and I'd take it.

Algebra was next, and it was a bit better. Mainly because I could go ahead and go as far ahead as I wanted. Right now I was well past the basics, and the textbook. I wish the teachers would just break down and let me use my laptop or phone in class to study with; I'd already be on advanced trigonometry or something. Something collegiate level or past, but still something was better than nothing. Maybe I could calculate the distances of the planets for a lark.

Crap, I already did it in my head. Well, maybe I could do something else equally mundane. I'm sure with enough distance involved, I'd actually have to use paper to write it out.

Jeanette moved from behind me to the front, just in time to intercept a student even more distracted than I was. She was a blonde, a bit larger than I was, dressed in faded jeans and a pink sweater. I knew her, vaguely, mainly from the faint freckles dotting her nose; Cynthia. Cynthia... something. Something with an H.

She bounced off Jeanette with an eep, and almost lost the books she had clutched tightly in front of her. Jeanette reached out to steady her, and any potential crisis was averted.

As small as she was, Cynthia was bigger than me now; if we had collided with us both distracted, she'd have bowled me over easily.
Still, she got herself together and actually bowed slightly: "Sorry. I wasn't looking where I was going."

No, she wasn't bowing; she was hunching in. Presenting a smaller target. "It's fine, neither was I. Sorry about my part in this."

I moved around her, taking advantage of the crowd; they always moved away from a potential fight. Well, those that didn't actually crowd closer to see it. Sorry people, no fight today.

I ducked into class and Jeanette was right on my heels, her good deed for the day done. Sam was giving me a forlorn look, so I tapped Jeanette and pointed. She nodded and walked over, delivering my notebook. My notes were pretty well written if I did say so myself, and could undoubtedly help those less fortunate than myself.

Sam wasted no time opening it and finding the page she wanted - seemed her homework wasn't done? For shame! Well, whatever. She should have just asked me for help last night; too much time spent piloting drones, not that I could blame her.

Flying things was fun; even more so in person. I really needed to get an actual pilot's license; I was allowed to cheat a bit because of my mutation, at least the once. I couldn't expect that would hold forever.

Trying to play by the rules felt like it just kept getting harder. It probably wasn't, but telling myself no was... unpleasant.

Right now, the distance from Earth to Alpha Centauri was a bit of twenty-five trillion miles. I couldn't be absolutely certain since it changed by the second, but that was close enough. Four point six-seven light years - or one hundred and forty-eight years to reach with standard propulsion systems. Some of the ones I knew were out there could cut that to forty years, potentially.

I was pretty sure I could cut it to five right now.

Ricky was giving me a look. Not the look, but a warning look. He was much easier to read than Sam was. Even though right now, Sam was anything but hard to read.

No weird scents. It was a bit weird that while my eyes were trash, my nose seemed to be pretty sensitive - at least for a human nose. It wasn't like I could smell road kill from here or track people by scent or something.

At least I hoped not; that would not be a fun mutational expression.

I could simulate it, though, if I wanted. A form of robotic or cybernetic nose was easy enough; the only issue would be translation software in order to properly identify one scent from another. I could brute force that; it would be simple enough. Scan the scent and then match it to the substance to create a database; then I could upload everything to all my bots and....

And Ricky was tapping the side of his head. Jeanette hadn't moved just yet, but it was only a matter of time before she did. I put those thoughts carefully away and turned the page I'd just been messily scribbling the proper equations on.

Jeanette caught me looking at her and smiled.

Mr. Mullins was already halfway through the class, and like the others, he seemed pretty determined to ignore me. Fine by me really; I just wish I could get a bit more warning from them; I knew my teachers knew what it looked like when I went all mad-science. Some of them, anyway.
Whatever. Safe numbers, so even if Mr. Mullins were to check me, I'd be doing math. He didn't though; just droned over the same old tired equations he'd written on the board.

My notes came back just as we were about to leave. Our homework was already handed in, but Mr. Mullins was nice enough to sometimes let us hand in homework as class ended rather than before it started. A small mercy for us.

Sam handed hers in as soon as the bell rang, and shot out of the class as if she had somewhere to be. She didn't, though? At least not that I knew, and she'd tell me if so, right?

No, it was fine. She probably just had to go to the bathroom or something. Luckily, even with all the coffee, I was fine on that respect for now.
I waited until everyone else had left before getting up; it was easier that way.

Unfortunately, geography was even more boring than algebra or physics were; it was just blind rote learning of places and names around the country or the world. This week was supposed to be Romania of all places, for reasons only known to Mrs. Carson.

This one I'd have to pay attention in, because even though I'd read the book and my memory was pretty good, there were no underlying principles to be used here. It was all dry place names and terrain.

I took my seat, and Jeanette took her usual place. All was normal - even Pam glaring at me was normal now. I never did get to ask her what her problem was since she ran every time I got close enough. It was for the best I wasn't dealing with P.E.. Pam and a few others still didn't like my presence in there, or even in the female bathrooms.

They'd been overruled, of course. I tested as female through any method one could use, so there was no reason to deny me. For the best really, since the idea of using the same bathroom Monty or Flash used did not thrill me; Pam could hate me all she wanted, but she was unlikely to knock me out with a single punch. Those two? Very much could.

My days of being tough were over. At least, without some form of armor - that was what Jeanette was for. Well, one of many things that Jeanette was for.

Not ideal, but I had to do what I had to do. I could design body armor, but it would be obvious and rather heavy. Once I got the power armor down I could go back and work on some other things. I could also work on a personal force field, but power was a problem.
I needed to work my way up on the power supply problem; I didn't see any way to make a small form fusion or fission core, and my battery technology was non-existent at the moment.

So much work to do, so little time. I'd love to say that science never stops, but these were more engineering problems than anything else.
The desire to just... let go and automate it all, to go full on infrastructure so that I could simply type an order into my computer and see an item or invention machined out in a day or even less was strong.

It would involve holing up in my lab for a few weeks to a month, though, and so my parents would never go for it. It would also be an escalation, a step I wasn't sure I'd be able to take back once I took it.

I wanted to though. I wanted to just leave now and do it so bad I could taste it on my tongue. Did mutants have issues with impulse control, or was it just me? I'd have to ask Ricky; his opinion would at least give me another data point.

I wrote down a reminder and stuffed it in my coat. Sure it slowed my note taking down, but it wasn't like Mrs. Carson was going all that fast.
The bell signaled the end of class and lunch, and I went back over my notes; I'd gotten all the place names on there, and the notable things each place was supposedly known for. Not that Romania was known for much. Well, at least here; I'm sure Romanians knew all their lore after all. We Americans didn't really need to.

The chief export of Romania was electrical devices. At least, according to the book. So... that seemed like a good place to go if I wanted to manufacture some things.

I wasn't hungry, but I could use the break. "Jeanette, how cold is it now?"

"The current temperature indoors is seventy-three degrees. The temperature outside is forty-four degrees, according to the best information I possess."

At least she figured it out and corrected herself. Fourty-four was too cold. "I guess we need to head to the cafeteria then. Outside is too cold."
Even with my coat, even with my sweater, it'd be freezing outside.

"I see. Let us depart then."

Right, getting up was a thing, and it took a little more effort now than earlier. I hadn't even lost myself, and my body felt heavier than this morning. Which was cheating, body! Come on, work with me here!
It didn't get any better, but didn't get any worse, and my steps were steady enough. Jeanette stayed behind me and Ricky fell in beside as soon as I exited the classroom.

"I saw you look my way; what was it?"

"Do you have a problem with impulse control? Ever want to just do something you know or suspect is a bad idea?"

That was clear and utter confusion. "No, I don't think so. I have impulses occasionally, like 'I want a snickers right now' or 'I want to go here', but nothing I suspect is bad. I have bad thoughts, but I can ditch those fine. Are you saying you do?"

Yeah, deny that one: "I admit nothing, but it occurred to me that mutants might have impulse control problems, and that might be why I have to fight so hard to avoid designing and making things."

The light dawned on my friends' face. "Oh, you meant that. No, I think devisors are the only ones who have that sort of problem; all the ones I know of seem to be compelled to build, sooner or later. You might be onto something, though, cause that might partly explain how powered villains and criminals happen."

Hmm, maybe there was something to the idea after all. There might be enough for a study; should I ever feel the need - I wasn't really a fan of the soft sciences. At least not for myself; reading a study performed by someone else and actually creating the study myself were two different things.

The cafeteria was packed, which wasn't great. Yet it was also warm, so it was a trade off. The farthest table at the far side had enough space for us at a glance, but there were some people there. People we would likely disturb.

It was their table first, and according to the unwritten rules of the school, just sitting down was a no-no and a crime.

We'd have to ask first.

"Excuse me, are these seats taken?"

The guys I was addressing looked up or around at us. I knew them; all four were members of the vaunted computer club. All four were on the smaller side, with one being a little pudgy. None of them exercised willingly I was sure, and in P.E. class they were picked last routinely. Not that I could judge, because without my own pass, I'd be getting picked last every single time.

I couldn't read them. Before, my relationship with these guys was good. At the very least, it was neutral, mainly because I didn't make any fun of them. Now I certainly had no room to judge; for all I knew these guys might have a condition similar to my own; it wasn't like I asked them or anything.

"Nah, we're it. You can all sit down here if you want," the guy said.

What was his name again? Andre, I think.

"Yeah, plenty of room for all of you," another one said; he had his back turned to us, but I knew him a bit more than the others. Neil, from just two streets over. He was a geek through and through, and he and Ian played one of the strategy games he liked together.
I'd tried it, and it was a good game, but it lacked complexity. I guess rock paper scissors was good enough for most people.

Quinton, that was his name. Right now, he was staring at Jeanette as she moved around the table.

The pudgy guy was Fred, of all the names to have. I sat down next to him since it was the nearest empty seat, and Ralph took my other side in a hurry.

"Too cold outside, huh?"

"I'm pretty cold -blooded anymore," I replied. Was Jeeves coming, or was Jeanette going to meet him at the door?

The latter it seemed, as she stomped off at a brisk walk, dodging others with a grace that one would expect from a dancer. She'd definitely improved her control recently; I wonder how?

Another thing to ask; I dug the paper scrap out of my pocket and wrote the question down.

Sam and Maggie came up and just plunked themselves down across from me, to the obvious discomfort of the guy next to Andre. I mean, he was trying to play it cool, but it was obvious to me he was failing - so it must be equally as obvious to everyone else.

Ricky came in next, breathless, and took the seat next to Ralph. "Thought we'd be outside."

"Too cold."

"It isn't that cold," he argued. Why he felt the urge to argue with me over it I didn't know, nor did I care to know. It WAS too cold, objectively.

"Not all of us are made of muscle," Ricky broke in.

They glared at each other for a bit.

"So, what's for lunch?" Maggie asked. I pretended not to see the start of her drool. She was more than happy to eat whatever Jeeves brought.
Exactly when my lunch had turned into an opportunity to feed all my friends, I didn't know. I was long past the point of no return now, though, since none of them even bothered packing a lunch anymore.

Still, a question demanded an answer: "I've got no idea. I didn't get so much as a glimpse this morning on the way out."
I hoped it was something light. I wasn't sure how my stomach felt about anything rich right now.

We waited with varying levels of patience; Ricky even tried to play it cool as his own stomach betrayed him with a growl (thankfully, my own wasn't that loud, certainly not enough for others to hear).

Finally, Jeanette came back, our picnic basket held in both her hands. She all but skipped through the room; everyone else was already sitting down and chowing down.

She set the basket down between Ralph and I, and began dragging things out. First, a tupperware container of... chicken? My sensitive nose caught a whiff; we'd had this before. Basil chicken, Jeeves had called it. The next container was a massive one, and contained a salad. A salad I'd not had before, but it looked good. "What are those?"

"Chickpeas," Jeanette answered immediately, already setting plates out. She served me first, of course, then went around the table counterclockwise.

The drink she'd given me was a manufactured one... a tea mixed with chocolate? That sounded pretty good.

"I knew about it, I'd even seen it, but to be this close to it is something else," Quinton stated.

Was that supposed to mean something? "What is something else? I'm afraid I don't follow."

Quinton favored me with a hand, waving it all in. "All this. The picnic lunch at school, for all of you. The rich food, made by a chef. A chef robot no less. You have to admit it's a little wild, even for here."

I did? "He's not a chef, he's a butler."

Quinton gave me a stare. "I've never seen anything like what you eat for lunch outside of a restaurant in the city. The real expensive places. I'm not judging, it's just a little... wild."

Jeanette had finished serving, and was now standing at her favorite spot, right behind me. She said nothing.
What could I say in the face of this? "Jeeves likes to cook."

"Been meaning to ask, if it's not too personal or anything. Can your robot even taste the food?"

Good question Andre, glad you asked! "Of course. It doesn't work exactly like ours since my androids need a way to categorize what they taste, and bad tastes aren't really bad to them in more than an academic level, but they can taste and smell just fine.

"Smell?"

"Well yeah, taste and smell are linked. You can taste smells after all. It's all linked to molecules in the air around us, and... no, wait. You didn't ask for all that. Sorry."

I was getting better.

"Uh, right. It's fine, I get it."

I heard the guy next to him whisper, something about biology. Quinton shook his head, ever so slightly. He was still smiling, so it shouldn't be anything bad about me. Right?

Ricky already had his face in the salad. "How is it?"

He didn't spit anything out at me, but the thumbs up said it all. I took a taste. It was good, zesty with a bit of tang mixed in. Jeeves had done it again, and this time without actually cooking anything. Well, other than the chicken. The first bite of it proved I had it before, and it tasted just as good as I remembered.

I wanted to fill my stomach until it exploded, but that wouldn't happen; there was only so much to go around, and Jeanette was watching.
The tea was truly excellent, and paired well with the salad somehow. I don't know, I wasn't a foodie or anything.

Conversation ceased as we ate; no one wanted to be caught with food left by the bell. I could see that some of my friends had things to say, but the magic food had ensorcelled their brains, just as it had mine.

I was done with plenty of time. I finished the tea off, and my plates vanished back into the basket. Another drink came out of it, the same stuff.

Interesting, that meant we probably had more at home. I wasn't really a tea fan, but this stuff was speaking to me at the moment.
"So, ready to work all the food off?"

Maggie looked like she was bursting to say something... but she didn't seem to want to lead with it. "Nah, I'm not very psyched for P.E. today."

"Volleyball," Sam said.

"Right, it's just more volleyball. We had that last week! We need to do something different!"

"Couldn't agree more," The guy next to Andre muttered, then looked shocked he'd said anything.

Not sure why, most of us agreed with him. "Right! maybe we should suggest something to the Coach! Something like... wiffle ball or table tennis!"

Ricky, what? indoor wiffle ball so soon? We didn't usually go for that until another month into winter.

Table tennis was cool; I could maybe do that. It wasn't like I had any special issues there, and it was only table tennis. Even Ralph would find it hard to go all 'over-competing mutant' at table tennis. Even golf could be scammed, but table tennis? You hit the ball too hard, you lose outright.

It was something anyway. Something to look forward to maybe, for the second half of the day. You know, before the real fun started.