Peter looked around the hall for the umpteenth time, sighing as Professor Strickland wrote yet another equation on the board.  Watching the clouds outside the window float by Peter imagined he could feel the lightning just waiting in the clouds, his abilities sometimes acted up during thunderstorms and beforehand he felt himself building a charge.  His hand sparked under the desk, looking nervously around to make sure no one saw swallowed hard and brought his concentration back, letting his hand pass through the desk before resting on his lap.<br/><br/>Looking at his hand Peter wondered while the class buzzed around him, was being a Mutant a disease?  A curse?  He knew that it was a part of him, the powers, the electricity, they had developed slowly as he aged.  It was natural.  Mutations, an aberation, or the next step.  As he spread his fingers he wondered, was he normal?<br/><br/>When the class closed their books he jarred back to his surroundings and followed the others out, seeing the flyer tacked on the wall outside the door noted it was another rave.  A clap on his shoulder jarred him and Trent yelped as the slight shock ran across his friends hand.<br/><br/>"Yow!  You have the worst static of anyone I know."  Trent shook his hand, tall and wiry thin Trent was dressed in his usual black.  Long sleeves, pants two sizes too big, sunglasses that he wore even at night, and the thick, shoulder length hair.  Black.  If not for the slight tan Trent could come across as Goth, he wanted to be one but only for the girls.  "Rave, tonight at St Elizabeths.  You and me buddy."<br/><br/>"You just want me to pay for your drinks again," Peter sighed.  Trent was fun to hang around with, stuff always happened with him, though he was perennially short of cash, which is where Peter came in.  He didn't mind, his parents always gave him money, Peter really didn't want for much so he was always flush, and with Trent he was never bored.<br/><br/>"Maria is going to be there," Trent lowered the sun glasses slightly and wagged his eye brows.<br/><br/>"What time?"  Peter asked as they turned, Trent also knew his weaknesses.  Maria Talencio was one of them.  Tall, buxom, a face that one could die for, and those piercing blue eyes.  If she'd go out with him Peter would show her everything, so far she'd resisted.<br/><br/>Trent laughed as they walked down the hall, "that's my boy."