I hate being a mutant. No, wait, that's too harsh. I don't hate it, and for the record, I really don't hate mutants. I had mutant friends – Rogue, Scott, Ororo, and Pyro before he ran off, and Wolverine, kind of. I think Logan's the sort of guy who has allies and enemies, but maybe not friends. They're all mutants and they're okay with it.

Me? I don't like being different. There's nothing wrong with being unique, but different, this different, is hard.

Which is why I'm leaving. I'm only seventeen but I'm going to college at NYU. I'm skipping 12th grade altogether and going straight into college classes.

And I don't want to talk about anyone at Xavier's School. I have mutant friends, but I need some space.

I thought about writing to my parents. I haven't gotten up the nerve to call them yet. It's been months since I was at their house, and I've kept trying to contact them, but every time I just stand there with the phone in my hand, unable to dial the numbers.

And I don't want to talk. Everyone kept asking me if I wanted to talk. "Bobby, you'll feel better if you just talk." "Bobby, just tell us what you're thinking." "It takes time to deal with grief, Bobby, it really does."

Scott gets to mope around in his room, and Logan drinks a galleon of whiskey a day, but I'm the one who needs to talk about stuff, apparently. Another reason I left – I don't want to have to share my feelings. I feel stuff; why do I have to talk about it?

So that's how I found myself on the train on a hot August morning, a suitcase in one hand and a backpack in the other.

I was no longer a student at Xavier's – I was a freshman attending NYU, completely independent and self-sufficient. Undeclared as of yet, though I said I was leaning towards pre-law in my application.

Forget those guys I left behind and all their guilt. I was a free man.

I got off the train along with dozens of other college students, some with suitcases and other baggage like me.

One door down, a thin older woman with silver white hair was stepping out with a boy about my age.

"Are you sure this is the right stop?" the woman questioned as the guy pulled his suitcase off the train with a clatter.

"Yes, it's the right one. You don't have to come with me. I can find the way on my own."

"I'm not having you get lost in all these people," the woman fussed. "What if you couldn't find your dorm and you had to sleep on the street? Now, you come along like a good boy and we'll get you settled in."

"Aunt May . . ." the boy sighed but he offered her his free hand as we all started up the stairs.

I thought about trying to find a map, but I figured I'd just go along with all the college kids and see where I ended up.

Sure enough, I found myself outside of NYU and got to the right table to sign in for orientation. There were hundreds of students milling around, and I loved that.

Nothing make me happier than to blend into a huge crowd, to pace myself in a moving group so I keep walking and never slow down or speed up past the person beside me, to stand among lots of people and have no one recognize me. I don't like being pointed at or stared at or feeling so different that I have to live with a bunch of mutants just to seem normal.

I don't want to be different, and I plan to never, ever, ever use my powers again. As far as I'm concerned, I have no powers.

"Here is your info," the woman behind the table handed me a bag stuffed with papers, flyers and pamphlets. "Your dorm number, key card, and roommate assignment are in the bag. Find your group because the tour starts in fifteen minutes. For those of you who brought stuff, but did not have time to take it to your dorms before now, we have lockers for you to put your stuff in."

I took the bag and stepped away from the table, careful not to hold up the line. Most people don't realize how hard it is to blend in, but I do. Timing is everything. You can't leave too early or stay too long; you can't ask too many questions or look too bored; you nod along with whatever the other person says, but you don't quite make eye contact.

I knew the moment I stepped away from the table the woman had already forgotten me.

After locking up my suitcase, I went to sit under a large tree, on one of the small wooden benches surrounding the trunk.

I shifted through all my papers and stuff inside the bag. Info about course, guidelines to follow, numbers to call, places to go – all pretty routine stuff. They had given us several sheets of paper when I first entered Xavier's so I was used to getting the layouts and the info.

At the bottom of the bag, I felt something hard and square, and I reached in to grab. I thought it might be candy or gum – I've heard sometimes that companies go to college campuses and pass out candy with their logo to promote whatever they want you to buy. I wouldn't have said no to something to chew on while I waited for the tour.

I glanced down at the object in my hand. It was packaged in clear plastic, a round red circle inside. It was a condom.

A second later, I realized that not only was it a condom, but it was a cherry-flavored one that was supposed to make my pleasure "sweet as candy and twice as good."

I dropped it in the bag as I felt my cheeks heat up. Hey, I'm no prude. Yeah, I'm still a virgin, but I'm only seventeen, and the one girl who I loved is a mutant who can't be touched. We had one beautiful kiss at my parents' house months ago, but that's as far as I've gotten pleasure-wise with someone else.

This was just all so different from Xavier's. We had health class there and we talked about sex and reproduction and John made sly remarks under his breath that got us stern looks from the teacher. But we didn't get condoms in our welcomes bags, and I never knew of any of the students having sex, though I wouldn't put anything past Kitty Pryce. She was always popping into people's rooms and explaining that it was quicker than taking the hall, but we still threw pillows at her and told her to stay in her own room. It could get embarrassing when you were trying to get dressed, and she had no respect for anyone's privacy.

I glanced around, trying to look cool, to see how other people felt about the free gift in our bags, but no one else seemed to care or even notice. Most of the students were talking to each other or using a cell phone. I took a few papers out of my bag and pretended to read them again.

My dorm room was #312 so I guessed that meant on the third floor in the middle probably. I was sharing a double room, but the showers would be down at the end in a Co-Ed bathroom. Great – that was going to be a lot of fun. I might get to see naked girls, but then they'd see me naked, too.

I was sharing a room with someone called Parker, Peter. Well, at least it was a guy.

". . . no reason for you to stay," a boy's voice drifted over to me.

I glanced to see the kid and the old woman again, this time standing in the shade of a large tree near mine.

"I have my information, I know where my dorm is, and I'm going to be okay," the guy insisted.

"But I worry about you," the woman shook her head. "You're so delicate, and you know how nervous you get about school. I won't be here to cook for you and wash your clothes and see that you go to bed on time."

"I can do all that myself," the boy promised her, not sounding too annoyed. I swear he almost had a smile in his voice.

I couldn't help myself – I glanced over at them. The boy looked about my height with light brown hair and quiet blue eyes. He wore a tee shirt and jeans, but the jeans were nice and his shirt was tucked in with a belt, too. He looked thin-ish, but he seemed solid at the same time. The woman beside him was at least four inches shorter and looked frail compared to him, but she kept fussing over him as if he were a sickly child.

"Remember to drink milk everyday and take your vitamins," the old lady instructed. "And no going out after nine – you know how the night air affects your asthma. And wear a raincoat when it gets damp, and a sweater everyday when October comes. And I'll be waiting for you everyone other Saturday."

"Will do, Aunt May," he nodded.

She looked like she was trying to find other reasons to stay and caution him to take care of himself, and I wanted to snicker. How embarrassing to have your aunt take you to college like the first day of school and then have her fret over you with so many people around.

"Well, give me a kiss," she raised herself up and he bend to kiss her cheek. "Remember that I love you, and I'm very proud of you, and your uncle would be, too."

I looked away and I didn't hear the boy's response. My throat felt tight all of the sudden. I've always been pretty independent and I don't remember my mom babying me much when I was a kid. She was more concerned about Ronnie, and I used to tease Ronnie when we were little and he would get upset and she would hold him until he stopped crying. I didn't want my mother to be here on NYU campus, but it would have been nice to hear her voice once before I left for college. I would have liked her to say that she was proud of me, and Dad, too. I would have liked to know that they still loved me.

"Bye, Aunt May," the boy waved as his aunt walked off.

The guy turned towards me, but I looked down at my bag, pretending like I didn't notice him.

"Welcome, students, to NYU," a voice suddenly boomed over the speakers. "Group tours will begin in five minutes. Please find your group and wait for your campus leader. Once again, group tours will begin in five minutes."

I got up and began heading towards my group. Once I found them, I stood there, once again trying to look casual. But as I glanced around, I noticed that most people were sweating from the heat. A few people waved their pamphlets in front of their faces to cool down, and one girl had a tiny, pink, battery-charged fan that she held two inches from her nose and sighed into the small bursts of air.

I don't sweat. I can turn almost anything into ice, and my body stays pretty cool most of the time. I went into the sauna at school once and the hotter the room got the colder my body got until the guys complained that it was like putting a refrigerator in the room and Scott said he didn't think a sauna did much good for me anyway. But I don't sweat, and as I stood there in a group of sweaty people I tried to come up with a reason why I wouldn't sweat, just in case someone asked. Surely there had to be some medical condition where you didn't.

"All right, people," the group leader raised her hands in the air. "We're going to start our tour. Feel free to ask any questions and refer to your map as often as you like."

Hands-down, it was the longest tour I had ever been on and the most complicated. We went through buildings and up stairs and down stairs and through walk-ways, and the map didn't help at all because half the time I had it upside-down as I was trying to walk and listen to her at the same time. Thankfully, everyone else looked confused, too, so I didn't feel too bad.

We finally got back to the beginning of the tour and they announced that it was lunch time, so I followed everyone inside to stand in line for food. The big room where they served lunch had air conditioning so I could stop worrying about not sweating.

I got a tray full of food and sat down at a round with nine other students.

" . . . so lameass," the girl beside me was saying to her friend. "He keeps rampaging, and no one does anything."

"I heard the army can't even take him down. He's indestructible," her friend replied.

I froze. No, not literally – I meant I stopped moving and stopped breathing as I listened to them. They were talking about Wolverine. Who else could they be talking about? Who else was rampaging and indestructible and being chased by the army? What if they knew about him and then they knew about me and they knew I was mutant and they told everyone?

"It's a dumb name too," the first girl went on. "Who came up with that?"

"I know. Hulk – so stupid. I think of this green hunk of rock every time someone says it," her friend laughed.

"You girls talking about the Hulk?" a guy on the other side of the table asked.

"Yeah, we are."

"My brother's friend said he was here in New York a few months ago," the guy grinned. "Actually here, full on green and angry. Badass, huh?"

I leaned back in my chair as they kept talking. I had heard about the Hulk a few times, but I'd never seen him and I didn't really believe he was real until the teachers started talking about him. Logan wanted to go find him and bring him down, but I guess the Professor said no.

I finished eating and went back to get some more to drink, just to have something to do. I really just wanted to go to the dorm room and be alone, but I didn't want to be the one guy that wasn't socializing on orientation day.

As I got another cup of ice and coke, I turned and nearly bumped into the same guy again, the one with the over-protective aunt and the soft blue eyes.

"Sorry," he apologized, stepping back to balance his tray.

I stared at all the food on his plate, nearly twice as much as I ate.

"I'm really hungry," he admitted with a half-smile.

I didn't understand how a guy my size could eat that much food, but I nodded along.

It was the perfect opportunity to start a conversation and maybe get to know at least one person in this room of hundreds, but I dropped my gaze and headed back to my table.

When I got back to my table, the conversation had shifted to the freshman courses they wanted to take.

I listened, but I didn't say anything. From the way they were talking about subjects, most of them seemed to come from normal high schools, not a boarding school. And certainly not a mutant boarding school posing as an exclusive prep school in upper New York State. As the students talked, I looked over the list of courses and they didn't seem too hard. I understood most of the descriptions.

I guess Xavier's prepared me more for college than I thought, but still, I wasn't going to sign up for anything too hard. A math, an English, a history, maybe a film class and a language, and that was it. I didn't plan to be the best student or worst so nothing too easy or too hard.

After another long half hour later, they moved us onto the latter part of the tour which ended with us signing up for classes and finally getting to go up to our dorm rooms. I signed up for five classes, got my schedule printed out, and pulled out my trusty map to find my way back to the dorms.

I finally figured out how to get in the building and had climbed two flights of stairs before I realized I had left my suitcase downstairs in the locker. As I went back down, I felt so angry with myself. I couldn't remember anything anymore, not a single damn thing to save my life or anyone else's for that matter. I wished I could break something, I wanted to smash my fists into a wall, I wanted to freeze the entire building and then shatter the whole place into icy chunks. I hate feeling out of control – I hate that I'm not strong enough to pull myself together.

I had calmed down a little by the time I reached the locker, and I hoped I looked entirely normal and sane to the people who were also opening their lockers. I smiled slightly at the girl in front of me, struggling with her huge suitcase. It weighed at least a hundred pounds and she nearly dropped as it tumbled out. Before I could stop myself, I reached forward to help her. I grabbed the handle and stood the suitcase up. My fingers brushed over hers, and she looked up with warm brown eyes.

"Thanks," she smiled. "I think I packed too much, huh?"

"Yeah," I shifted my weight from one foot to another. It felt so weird to touch a girl and not have to worry about getting hurt.

She paused for another second to see if I would say anything else, but then she moved towards the door, pulling the huge suitcase on rollers.

After I got my suitcase, I went back into the building, and I found the elevator (I didn't mind hiking up three flights with my backpack and bag of papers, but with a suitcase, too, I was taking the elevator).

The hallway on the third floor was wide enough when it was empty, but with so many students coming in and out of the rooms with all their stuff, it took me a minute to get down to room 312. The door was cracked open, and I guessed my roommate was already inside.

Time to meet this Parker fellow.

I cautiously opened the door.