You Can't Make Me

Ginny Hayes tugged her green cap down, and pulled her thick red braid over one shoulder as she approached the imposing stone structure. Cullen's School for Gifted Youngsters was what it said on the gate, but she had yet to see anyone on the grounds. She was hoping it was spring break for the kiddos and that no one was home. After all, she was only here in the first place because her lawyer was making her go. Said she needed someone to talk to, and that while he could advise her in legal matters...

The trailing off bit is what had done it. A raised eyebrow was added, and Mr. Ironwood's hands had fallen to his desk as though he'd done all he could for her. Really, it wasn't any of his business, except to keep her out of jail. That's what she had him on retainer for. Just in case.

But he was a nice man, and was sympathetic to her cause. He just wanted her to talk to one of the teachers at the school here, for whatever reason. Ginny peered at the palm of her hand where she'd scrawled a name hours earlier. It was smudged beyond recognition, though it looked like it started with a D. Or maybe an F.

Suddenly nervous, she wiped her hand on her jeans and reached for the doorbell.

Silence. The wrought iron gates that lead the way into the institute remained firmly locked. As Ginny watched the doors in the distance, beyond the gates and the sloping pathway that lead up from them, the grounds seemed perfectly still. Very slowly and with only the faintest of sounds, a security camera - mounted on top of one of the stone pillars that framed that gate – turned its minute lens onto her. Apparently it was satisfied with what it saw, as within moments there was a slow groaning of old hinges, the gates opening inwards.

Ginny gave the security camera a two fingered salute, and kick started the Harley she was sitting on. Picking her left foot off the ground, she slowly headed onto the grounds. The gate closed behind her, slowly, but she could see no threats and no need for her to be concerned. There was probably another exit from the school, but she couldn't see it from her vantage point.

She took in everything about her surroundings, and already had an escape route planned out by the time she reached the big house. It was part of her Ranger training, and one she'd continued to cultivate since she'd been out. Releasing the kickstand, she turned off the chopper and swung her leg over. There was still not a soul in sight, though the faint sounds of music seemed to be coming from one of the top floors of the building. Jay Z? The beat didn't match the idyllic mansion.

She checked her boots for dirt, then walked up the steps towards the big double doors.

The sound of a motorcycle approaching was enough to draw more than a few inquiring glances. A young face peered out of one of the school windows, peeking just long enough to avoid being noticed before vanishing again. Ginny found that the doors were open – they almost always were. The entrance hall was wide, airy and not as stuffy as the outside of the building suggested it would be. Although the old wooden floor looked polished, the scuffs and scrapes of thousands of feet could be seen under the veneer. Central to the southern wall was a staircase, that split into two curved paths as it rose upwards. It was down one of these curves that a young woman walked, looking towards Ginny expectantly.

“Miss Hayes?”

Cap still on, Ginny stood in the doorway. "Ah, the doors were unlocked." She took a step forward, sunlight coming in behind her.

The woman coming down the stairs was dark haired and pretty, about Ginny's age if not a bit younger. Ginny tugged on her ponytail, and flicked it over her shoulder so it hung down her back. "I didn't think I was expected."

“Not exactly, non.”

Francoise smiled a little as she stood opposite Ginny, at the foot of the stairs. It had been an educated guess on her part that this woman was the client that Ironwood had informed Ethan and the other senior staff about. Her appearance also went some way to explain the unusual premonitions Francoise had been having about a red-haired stranger...

“I am Francoise. I teach here at the institute,” she continued, her English a little awkward. “What brings you here?”

"I... I'm not sure." Ginny cast a glance over her shoulder at the open door. "My lawyer told me to come here, said maybe I could get some help. But I'm just wasting your time. I should go."

She pulled her jacket together in front and started to zip it up. "I'm sorry, this was a mistake." No matter what Ironwood had said, she was not about to start trusting total strangers with secrets that could land her in jail, or on the wrong end of a lynch mob.

“Arrêt- wait,” Francoise held up a hand, reaching out. “It's... such a long way back to the city. You've come all this way and riding that bike must wear you out. Why not stay for a drink? We can sit out on the lawn, in the shade where it's cool.” She smiled, as best she could, quite sure she knew exactly how Ginny was feeling.

"Ah... okay." Ginny half-smiled. "I am kinda thirsty."

She shoved her hands into the pockets of her short jacket, and edged out onto the porch while the other woman disappeared for a moment. She returned quickly, two perspiring Cokes in her hands, and handed one to the redheaded woman. Ginny grinned and popped the top as Francoise led the way out and towards the lawn.

"So... you teach here?" She gestured around, taking in the whole campus.

“Oui,” Francoise nodded, as they walked slowly across the gravel driveway towards the grass. There were trees here and there, as well as benches and picnic tables set out for students to sit out in the sun, studying or socializing.

“Though I was a student here too, many years ago... one of the very first, in fact.”

Ginny sipped her Coke, and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "Thanks for the drink, by the way. I'm not usually... that is, I'm a little out of my element here."

They sat at a picnic table, and Ginny leaned back against the table, looking out towards the gates. "What subject do you teach?"

“Art, literary studies, psychology... French, too, of course. There aren't many of us here to teach, so we all help out where we're needed.” Francoise took a drink and looked with quiet sense of pride towards the school. “We didn't set out to become teachers. Things just... happened that way. We learn something new from one another, and from the students, every day.”

Ginny followed Francoise's gaze towards the school, and then looked down at the Coke in her hands. "So, everyone here's a mutant, then, I guess."

She purposely tinged the word mutant with a hint of disdain. Just a little, just enough to let her gauge this teacher's reaction. And, if she got kicked off campus for being a bigot, all the better. She took a drink of her soda.

“Most of us yes,” Francoise nodded. “All of the children are, though there are some non-mutant staff. Ethan, our headmaster, likes to say that you don't need to have superpowers to teach, but it does help.” She smiled, a little rueful, and reclined a little in the sun, looking up into the wispy clouds. “Sometimes I wonder if it's good for us all to... how do you say, cooped up? Cooped up in here, separate from the world.”

"Sounds... interesting." Ginny finished off her Coke, setting the empty can on the table behind her. Brushing off her hands, she sat forward and rested her elbows on her knees. The two women sat in silence for a few long minutes, and Ginny once again wondered why she'd allowed her lawyer to change her mind.

She shifted her weight, then stood up. "Thank you for the hospitality, but... this... it doesn't really apply to me. I'm not a teacher, and I'm certainly not a student any more. I don't know why Mr. Ironstone wanted me to come here."

“To talk, perhaps?” Francoise asked, her eyes narrowing against the sun as she looked up at Ginny.

“I know how difficult... it is. We all do. It is nothing something you have to go through alone.”

She turned towards the other woman abruptly, sitting down once more. "Have you heard of the mutant they call the Vigilante? I doubt that if that woman showed up you would be as willing to talk."

Ginny was almost breathless. She'd never come this close to outing herself before, and her heart was pounding. "It is difficult to know who to trust."

“If she came here...” Francoise began, her eyes held firmly with Ginny's.

“We would certainly talk to her. The institute welcomes anyone, regardless of their past.”

"Though I imagine that their future choices would be important, huh." Ginny smiled, grinning suddenly. "I heard a rumor that you help mutants control and learn how to use their powers here. Sounds like you probably have a lot of enemies out there in he world." She paused. "And, I'd be interested in learning more about my own powers.

"I can teleport, though its hardly public knowledge, if you know what I mean."

The sudden, almost convulsion, confession did not surprise Francoise. She had seen Ginny in her dreams, visions if they could be called that.

“And you already have some control over this... ability, yes?”