I originally wrote this story back when I was in high school. For those of you born after the year 1995, you would consider me to be old. I have actually been informed of this by my niece (who is circa 1995). In reality, I'm just out of college by one year and just now getting married. For those of you like-minded to my niece, No, I am not going to get preggers any time soon. Just thought I'd clarify that I'm not that old.

This story only got halfway published under the name "Everything's Constantly Changing" before life started to get in my way. The story however continued to live on and is now actually finished on my hard drive. However, I finished writing it in a style that I don't particularly like anymore. So now I'm rewriting the whole darn thing (like I'm also doing with my ROMY series) in a style that I feel is not only more representative of me as a writer, but also more interesting and descriptive for you the reader. I hope you enjoy.

FYI:
I do not own the X-men. I do own the OC. That's why she is an OC. Isn't that cool?
Also I write this as a tribute to the awesomeness that is Samuel Guthrie. He deserves far more loving than he gets in the fan-dom normally.

Chapter 1: The Tough Girl

Allison navigated her pick up truck down the long winding road to the Frederick farm. Upon reaching the farmhouse, she pulled over and allowed her only passenger, Missy, to disembark and collect her gear from the bed. They waved to one another as Missy headed not towards the house but the barn. Allison just shook her head. Missy's brother, Mark, had painted a strike zone target on the back wall and built her a pitcher's mound. Missy's determination would keep her out there throwing softballs until either her father told her to stop spooking the cows or her mother called her in for dinner.

She was about to shift the truck back into drive, when a blonde, blue-eyed boy appeared in her driver's side window. "God, Mark, you nearly gave me a heart attack." She stared at him, taking in his broad shouldered appearance and well tanned features. He had the rugged good looks that made girls melt and actually find the notion of farmboys appealing.

"Sorry, Spank. How'd she do today?"

Allison held her hand out flat and then rocked it back and forth. "Ehh...okay. Only one fit today."

Mark nodded in understanding that his sister was more than a little touch and go sometimes. "Well, that's better than yesterday's practice."

Allison nodded in agreement. Yesterday had been particularly rough. As her catcher, Allison was all too aware of Missy's tendencies to throw a fit when her aim started to slide. This was well known, not only on our their own softball team, but on others too. She had the speed, but she was still young and working on her aim and it had fallen to Allison in her senior year to coach the hysterics out of the rising star. As Mark and Allison talked, they could hear what sounded like rapid fire gun shots as Missy was beaming the side of the metal barn with softballs.

"She's been doing that ever since she saw you hit the button to start the milking machine with a throw," Mark said thumbing towards his sister.

"It's a lot different tossing down to second base overhand than it is to try and pitch underhand at sixty miles per hour or more," Allison chuckled. "How's Bessy?"

Mark smiled at the mention of his favorite cow. He had raised her from a calf and had taken her to all of the local county fairs for years now. "Great actually. She's due in about a week. And then I guess I get to start the process all over again." There was no resentment in his voice. He truly loved his life on the farm. "How about you? You doing okay?"

"Yeah, of course. Why'd you ask?"

"Well," he started scratching the back of his head, "Missy told me 'bout your fainting spell and you do look a little pale. The dehydration things just has me worried, that's all."

"Look, the doctor's can't find anything wrong. So I doubt it's anything more than just the heat. Besides, you try wearing all that catcher's gear and tell me it's not an extra fifty degrees inside there. And did you forget I'm over half Irish? Pale is what I do," Allison said with a wink. It was true, she never did get a tan, even for trying.

Mark frowned not quite buying her answer and decided to change the subject. "Big game Monday, huh?"

"You could say that. It's just Northern Bedford. Think you'll make it?"

"As long as my dad doesn't insist I milk the cows or something."

"God, it some old rivalry that no one remembers how or why it started, just that it started before our parents were even in school. Think it'll ever end?"

"Nah, it's too much fun beating them in football season," Mark smirked remembering the two suffering defeats that they'd delivered since their sophomore year. "Absolutely thanks to our super kicker."

The corner of Allison's mouth twitched up into a grin. Mark had convinced her to try out for football the year before and she'd made it as a kicker. Nearly everone in school had been surprised that a girl had made the squad at all, let alone taken as many hits and sacks as she had. "I'm not that good."

"Yeah right! When we won states, you were this close to making national news for being the only female state football champion." For emphasis, he held up two fingers barely a half inch apart. "If it wouldn't have been for the Michael Jackson fiasco, you'd have been on CNN."

"I doubt that very much," Allison said rolling her eyes.

"You're too modest. Coach Chonko got a call from them asking for game footage. I doubt they cared about us farm boys."

"I'm just another one of the guys, and you know it."

"Yeah, uh huh. You just happen to have your own personal padding and can switch to running back at the last minute in the middle of a state championship game."

Allison just reached through the window and patted Mark's stomach. "Keep it up and you'll have your own extra padding."

"Read for boot camp to start?"

"You make it sound like Albright and Chonko are devil incarnate. Summer practices are a cake walk and you know it."

"True, it is always fun to watch you show up half the team in the weight room."

Allison again rolled her eyes at his exaggerations. "That's only on the squats and it's because I'm a catcher too," she said punching him in the shoulder.

"Got any plans for Saturday?"

"I dunno. I might be working. I have to check."

"You've got too much on your plate, take a break," he insisted.

"Well, give me a minute and I'll call for my schedule," she said turning to dig through her glove box. She came up empty and turned around to look into the bed of the truck before turning back to Mark. "Do you think you could check my equipment bag for my cell?"

He nodded and dug into the side pocket of her bag and pulled out her phone and handed it to her. After a few moments, the far end of the line was ringing and was finally picked up. It took her a few minutes and she had to keep shushing Mark but she finally knew her schedule. She was about to hang out when her coworker, Theresa, decided to get a little nosey.

"So, why you asking about it so early? You got a hot date?"

"Not really any of your business," Allison said sourly.

"Ten bucks says Mark finally asked you out."

"I'm hanging up now."

"Wait a min..."

Allison cut off Theresa by snapping the phone shut and tossing it into the passenger seat. "I gotta work that morning, but I got the night off."

"Then I'll pick you up at six."

"Or I'll meet you there at seven. Give a girl some time to shower."

"Come on, you'll be fine," Mark argued. "You look fine now and you've been sweating it out for the past four hours. I think you'll be okay after dipping ice cream for six."

Allison scowled at him. She knew better. She felt like a wreck and a quick glance in the rear view mirror confirmed it. She had helmet hair, her shoulder was developing a nice purple bruise from where someone had clipped her witha bat, and she was wearing a cut off t-shirt and a pair of tear-away pants. "I look like shit and you know it."

"Naw...you the spitting image of beauty. The Venus, no, the Aphrodite of Central High." He gesticulated towards the heavens and then glanced back down at her grinning.

"I'm leaving now. So if you don't want me to run over those precious toes of yours, I'd back up," she warned.

He stepped back and waved, doing his best not to laugh at her expense. "See you Saturday night!"

Allison sped off down the dirt drive, kicking up dust in her wake.

"So what took you so long to get here?" Kelly asked as she hovered near the entrance to the kitchen so that she could keep an ear open for the popcorn popping.

"Mark held me up when I dropped of Missy." Allison glanced behind her before plopping ungracefully into a beanbag chair in the middle of Kelly's grandmother's living room. She'd only been living there for about a year after a falling out with her mom but her grandmother was being a champ letting Kelly feel like she actually had a home there when she would soon be leaving for college. The living room was a testimate to the kindness. A pair of bean bag chairs, hot pink coasters, and a framed poster for the Killers adorned the wall.

"Ooo." Kelly was grinning broadly down at Allison who only looked back up at her with a glare.

"You're worse than Ashley! Get your mind outta the gutter now, or I'll remove it for you!" She smiled as she went back into the kitchen to retrieve the popcorn. She brought it back and plopped into the matching bean bag chair. "So how's Nate?"

"Good. You know, the usual. I think he's getting used to me saying 'no' now. God, he used to be all over me all the time and it made me way too self-conscious," Kelly said handing Allison the bag of popcorn.

She grabbed a fistful and munched for a few moments. "Well, at least guys notice you. Somehow I just blend right in."

"You've made it that way! Tell me once when you've ever dressed up and tried to look slightly feminine."

Allison gave it some serious thought before coming up with her answer. "Prom," she said definitively.

"How about sometime other than that. Like just an ordinary day," Kelly quizzed.

"Well, there was the one time the guys on the football team dared me to wear a dress and walk into the guys locker room for the opposing team and insist that that was were I was going to change." Allison snickered at the memory and Kelly rolled her eyes.

"You're hopeless. And Mark notices you…he really notices you."

"No, he doesn't. He just likes to tease me. Besides, we're best friends. Just like you and me. I couldn't date him!" Allison shuddered at the thought.

"Uh huh. But he wants to see that change. Besides, boyfriends can still be your best friend."

"Yeah until you break up. I'm not going to toss away my friendship like that."

"Paranoid."

"Am not!"

"Are too."

"Not."

"Too."

"Not."

"Not."

"Too."

"Hah! You admit it!" Kelly declared, fist pumping the air, a look of triumph on her face.

"No fair, you used the oldest trick in the book."

"And for going to be our valedictorian next year, you fell for it. That's pathetic," Kelly teased.

"Shut up," Allison muttered burrowing deeper into her beanbag chair as if she could disappear. It didn't work and Kelly offered her more popcorn. "Can't."

"Why not?"

"Camp starts in three weeks. You know that."

"That and you wanna look good for your date with Mark on Saturday." Allison tossed a pillow at Kelly's head with a satisfying smack.

"Mother," Allison whined, "I am not getting all dressed up just to go meet Mark at the movies." Allison stood with her fists on her hips staring her mother down who was physically blocking the doorway to Allison's bedroom. Allison was wearing a pair of cut off jeans and last year's summer league t-shirt that bore more than a few clay stains. She was tired from work earlier and had not been able to escape Theresa's incessant banter and interrogation about her supposed date with Mark. Part of her wished that she could snap her fingers and Saturday would be over.

"I'm not letting you go on a date looking like that," Ms. Steele said shaking her head. When she'd divorced Allison's father years ago, she'd reclaimed her maiden name. It sometimes caused confusion at school but luckily she was still okay with being called Mrs. Williams every once in a while by a confused teacher or classmate.

Allison cringed at the 'date' word. Why did everyone insist that it must be a date if it's a guy and a girl hanging out? "It's not a date Mom. He's not picking me up, he's not paying, and we're splitting right afterwards," she explained ticking the reasons off on her fingers.

"Uh huh, and I was born yesterday." Her mother rolled her eyes in such a way that you'd know instantly that the two of them were related.

"Then I'm definitely too young to date," Allison chuckled. "Besides, you do see the irony in what you're saying right? If this really is a date, I'm underdressed. It could definitely be worse, Mom." Allison grabbed her truck keys from her dresser and stuffed a small wad of cash into her jeans pocket. Her mother heaved a sigh of defeat as she turned sideways in the door to allow Allison to pass. Allison jogged down the stairs from their side porch to the driveway and hopped into the driver's seat of her pick up truck. After fiddling with the radio for a few moments, she as pulling down the quarter mile drive that set her mother's home up on top of a lonely hilltop. Ms. Steele loved the quiet, the peace, the lack of busy-body neighbors. Allison hated it. She found the quiet to be eerie and would have preferred living somewhere with a little more noise and excitement.

The radio spit out a little static as the truck moved into a low lying area and upon exiting the road, the music finally came through loud and clear. Allison smiled at the familiar voice of Toby Keith and tapped her foot as she sung along, temporarily forgetting about the evil 'date' word.

She reached the theater and parked her truck in the back row where she felt it was less likely to get dinged up by other movie goers. She had paid for the truck with cash and was extremely protective of it. As she walked towards the entrance, she dug her hands into her pockets and silently prayed that they'd stop sweating. Everyone insisted that it was just a nervous tic, but Allison knew that it happened all the time and without rhyme or reason. She could be brushing her teeth before bed and they'd start sweating.

She paid for her ticket and got into the snack bar line debating the merits of regular soda versus diet. "Hey Spank!" Turning, she could see Mark approaching, balancing a tray that was overloaded with popcorn, candies, and two sodas. "I already got you a drink since you were running late."

Allison forced a smile as she stepped out of line and followed him towards the theaters. Well, so much for him not paying for anything. "I see you're already trying to bulk up," she teased.

"Never too early to start," he said grinning. His postion as a linebacker gave him quite a bit of leniancy on his weight, but still, Mark was built strong and nearly every ounce of his weight had been converted to muscle through farm chores.

They walked side by side into the theater and sat in the back row. It was their usual place to sit so that they could point and snicker at couples making out. Their game was to find the most awkward kissers. Allison propped her feet up on the back of the seat in front of her and was grateful that it wasn't a packed house for once.

They were halfway through the movie when she felt Mark shift in his chair, stretching his arms above his head before allowing his right arm to go along the back of her seat. She cast him a sideways glance but he didn't turn his attention away from the movie for a second. To him it was as if nothing was out of the ordinary. A few minutes later, his arm shifted so that was going across the back of her shoulders causing Allison to shoot him another wary glance. Seeing that he was ignoring her, she decided to step out of the situation literally. "I gotta use the bathroom," she hissed standing up.

"You feel the need to announce that?" he asked, arching an eyebrow up. She just glared at him and walked out.

Once outside the theater, she didn't go to the restroom but rather paced back and forth in the hall, her sweaty hands shaking irradically. Her heart was pounding as the 'date' word thudded in her head like a song she couldn't get out. I'm over reacting. Mark doesn't want to date. We're buddies, pals, bestest of friends. No sirree. Football players date cheerleaders, not teammates. That's pretty much an unspoken law of football. And my problem is merely that our school doesn't have any male cheerleaders. That's all.

She wasn't paying attention and walked directly into someone who grabbed her by the shoulders to keep them from crashing into one another. "Sorry, miss, I think your boyfriend is looking for you."

Allison looked up at the usher and her face wrinkled up in confusion. "Boyfriend? I don't have a boyfriend."

"Um, well, the guy you came with is over there," he clarified pointing behind Allison to where Mark was standing, his feet shuffling just outside the theater they'd been in.

"He's not my boyfriend," Allison repeated herself as she turned away from the stunned looking usher and she walked back towards Mark.

"There you are," he said sounding relieved. "I was worried when you didn't come back."

"Sorry," she said sheepishly glancing down at the ground.

"If you didn't like the movie, why didn't you say something? We could have switched theaters or bailed completely." He gazed down at her worriedly and placed what was meant to be a comforting hand on her shoulder.

She sighed, her shoulders rising and falling with emphasis on her frustration. "It wasn't the movie."

"So, you wanna tell me what then?" He looked geninely confused and Allison was beginning to see that perhaps she was the only one who hadn't seen this coming.

"I just want us to stay friends, okay?" If there'd been an easier way to broach the topic, she didn't know it.

Mark's face fell instantly. After a beat he managed a whithered smile but it held none of his usual joviality. "Sure...friends."

Allison began to wonder how in the world such a tough football player could have such weak self-esteem. She groaned inwardly as she struggled for something to say to rectify the situation. "I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression, but, I would never want anything to happen to our friendship. I value it far too much."

"No," he said shaking his head, "I just took it all wrong. Of course, we're always gonna be friends."

Allison punched him gently in the shoulder and smiled. "Best of friends. Don't forget the 'best'." He gave her a slightly less weak looking smile as she threw an arm over his shoulder. "Come on you big lug. Let's fatten you up some more. Burgers on me."

"So, how'd it go?"

"How'd what go?" Allison asked twirling the phone cord around her finger.

"Duh...your date with Mark."

"I couldn't tell you if I wanted to," Allison said in a bored voice. She hoped that if she sounded disinterested enough herself, that Kelly might drop the topic as well. She certainly didn't need a reminder of how poorly the night had gone.

"He kissed you! I knew it...I just knew he would eventually gut up the nerve."

"Get your head out of the Gossip, Kel. Nothing happened. Unless you count me setting things straight with him."

"You're such a killjoy." Disappointment just dripped from Kelly's voice.

"Hmm...maybe that's why I'm captain and you're not."

"But at least the freshman aren't scared of me."

"You know, if I wanted this kind of harassment, I could have just talked to my mom," Allison sighed before instantly regretting it. The long moment of silence confirmed that she'd made a mistake by bringing up parents. "She's such a pain in the ass. Be grateful you're living with your gram. Grams like to spoil."

"Uh huh." Kelly was still quiet and Allison felt the need to somehow rescue her friend's mood despite the obvious trespass into her own personal life that Kelly had just made.

"Hey, are you coming to see me at work tomorrow night? I'll make you the best banana split for two."

"On the house?" Kelly asked her interest being piqued again.

"Of course. When the boss is away, the employees will play."

"You're the best."

"Don't I know it."

Emma Frost stood just behind Charles Xavier as he set aside his helmet onto the Cerebro console. "What is it, Charles?"

"A new mutant signature," he said softly as if still thinking. "From what I can tell, she has a lot of potential to be quite powerful." He turned in his chair to face her and steepled his fingers under his chin.

Emma nodded in understanding. She had come to help Charles with recruiting. It seemd that more mutants were popping up all the time and that if they didn't work together, then there would be a lot of confused, and potentially dangerous, teenagers out there. "What exactly are her powers?"

"It's still too early to tell. She herself may not even know yet."

"But you've pin-pointed her location?"

"A small, rural community in central Pennsylvania. I'd like you to take Kurt and Logan with you to talk to her. Let her know that there's help if she wants it." He paused, once more looking for the right words. "We must be careful though. These types of communities tend to be ignorant of the mutant condition. We could be met with resistance, not just from the community but by the girl and her parents as well."

"I'll keep that in mind. Don't worry, we'll find her before someone else does."

"I'm mostly worried about Mystique. She's actively recruiting for the Brotherhood again now that she's back." Xavier looked deeply concerned and Emma frowned at his expression. He hadn't been sleeping much since Rogue's departure and the fact that Mystique was running the circus known as the Brotherhood again didn't help matters.

"She'll be fine. Both Rogue and this girl…they'll both be fine."

Charles looked up surprised that Emma had identified the source of his real concern. "Her name is Allison. Allison Williams. She's sixteen, almost seventeen, and will be a senior this year." He didn't move as Emma turned and left, anxious to get to work even if she wasn't exactly thrilled to be working with Logan to accomplish the task.