English with Miss Doherty

[heather]

The room that she'd been given to teach English is was, in Heather's opinion, absolutely fantastic. It was open and airy, and didn't really conform to what most people's vision of a classroom would be - sure, there was a blackboard, and a few desks, and posters on the pastel-green walls (incidentally, she'd had to take a couple down once she'd moved in, leftovers from the previous occupant in a gorgeous shade of royal blue that was now safely in her room where she could afford to stare at it for hours if she so desired). But it wasn't carpeted in those horrible carpet squares, nor was it set up so that one person was seen as the bearer of all knowledge. Heather (or Miss Doherty, as she'd written in the top corner of the blackboard when she'd first arrived) preferred to run her classes in a much more round-table fashion, with the students on a journey that she was simply the guide for. If they ran off the path for a while, that was ok, so long as they remembered their final destination in the end.

Of course, she much preferred teaching biology - with such beautiful grounds, she'd immediately gotten the children out of the classroom to admire and learn about the various plants they were so lucky to be surrounded by - but that wasn't until later on in the afternoon. She was enjoying her schedule, enjoying being surrounded by such wonderful students, and her only wish was that she'd graduated sooner so that she could have met the man who had brought such a vision to life.

"So, how has everyone been going with their book reports? Don't forget that they're due tomorrow - I would hope by now that everyone has finished reading." She'd been taking them through classic literature, giving them a choice of certain well known books to read and write a report on. One hand went up to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, and she paused for just a moment. Her hair was one of the few blue, shiny things that Heather could manage to not stare at for hours - but she still tried to keep it out of sight and out of mind when she was teaching.

"We're going to be looking at some of the film adaptations over the next few weeks, and we will be comparing and contrasting - so if any of you have thought you'd get away with just watching the movie, you've got a lot to be doing tonight. I have read all of these books, and I have watched all of the movies - don't even try to fool me." The words were said with a smile.

[Animaux]

Cal sat at a back-corner desk with a good view of the window, and zoned out.

It wasn't that she disliked class, or disliked the teacher, but she generally disliked sitting still for long periods of time. And the window next to her, combined with the nice green on the walls, made her antsy for the outdoors. Miss Doherty didn't usually scold students anyway. She tapped a foot compulsively against the desk leg, and leaned her head on her hand, letting her blonde hair fall forward in a wave.

She wished sometimes that she could turn into a bird too. Her bat form was not the prettiest, nor the most suitable for the daytime. That reminded her, she should fly with Angel sometime. Or Liam. Liam scared her a little, though. What a strange-looking kid.

Miss Doherty was saying something about the book reports. Gosh darn book reports. Cal had picked Hound of the Baskervilles for its promising name, but found it very disappointing. There was barely a dog in it at all.

She'd have a lot to do tonight. She sighed. Maybe she could work out in the orchard... Then again, that had a way of distracting her completely... Then again...

Cal didn't have much of a work ethic.

[heather]

"So I'd like you all to break into groups to discuss each of your respective books - we're going to be starting on a new piece of assessment tomorrow, something a little more hands on this time, but you'll have a few weeks to think about it." The blue-haired woman wandered around the room, eyes sweeping over each of the students in turn as she considered just how this would play to each of their own talents.

It was a demonstrated learning exercise that would give those children less interested in the written word a chance to express themselves. She was hoping that it was going to be fun - but it was hard to know if it would actually work with this group. Still, Heather wanted to give them all a bit more responsibility for their own learning - so this would be a good test to see who could handle it.

"I'm going to ask you to work either on your own or in pairs to demonstrate something that you've learned from your story. It could be something that you've learned to do - so if anyone was inspired to try needlepoint, or learn more about cooking or transportation from your book - or it could be something that you really enjoyed about the book - so maybe you'd like to work on painting a scene that particularly resonated with you, or performing a short skit for us, or even writing an essay on it. The only limit is your imagination, though I would like for you to come up with some sort of plan to show me by the end of the week." Giving them all free reign to do whatever they liked could be downright dangerous.

Leaning back on the desk, the young teacher watched with a smile as the classroom filled with a buzz of voices.

[Iceman]

The door of the classroom opened, and Bobby Drake stepped through. He shut the door behind him, his eyes sweeping the room casually and then searching the front of the room for a few seconds until they landed on Miss Doherty, sitting at her desk.

He held a binder, a notebook, and a book titled 'Tuesdays With Morrie', which surprisingly enough had a bookmark sticking out of it. He held his books down against his thigh as he made his way toward the desk, giving Heather Doherty a smile, pausing only to give a grin and a nod to a couple of boys who'd read his shirt and started laughing. Bobby had traded in his usual shirt of some shade of blue because Bowerbird had asked him not to wear blue around her--not that he'd wanted to, after their first meeting, during which he'd been wearing a solid blue track jacket. He was instead wearing a maroon-colored t-shirt that said 'DON'T BOTHER ME' above a watch. Below the watch it read, 'I'm wasting potential'. It was so perfect for Bobby that it might have been made specifically for him.

"Sorry I'm late," he said in a casual tone, his glance turning to the class as they talked amongst themselves. "I was mailing a letter." Wow. Once out of his mouth, that sounded like the lamest of lame excuses - even for Bobby, who often tried to come up with as outlandish an excuse as possible.

He laughed a short laugh under his breath, at his own awkwardness, and gave a half-shrug. Setting his books at the edge of her desk, he said, "Anything I can help with? Coffee?"

[heather]

"No, that's fine." The shirt got him a slightly raised eyebrow, but she could hardly complain after having only specified that he shouldn't wear blue around her.

Apparently, Bobby Drake was fond of blue. Something to do with the ice powers. It didn't go so well with hers.

Also, the letter excuse was the lamest she'd ever heard. But he wasn't one of her students, so she wasn't going to scold him - Bobby was just there to help out.

"No, no, I'm fine. We've just split into groups to dicuss ideas for our next assignment - a bit more practical than the book report. Why don't you start with one of the groups to see what ideas everyone has come up with so far?" There was a short pause before Heather said, "Just don't give anything the OK yet, we're only brainstorming for now."

He may have been an X-Man, but to her he still seemed young. She didn't know if she'd trust her students with him - not in a teaching capacity, at least, even if he was perfectly capable of helping to protect them from the world.

[Iceman]

Bobby nodded and turned, ambling toward the desks. "Hey, you know how NYU has a Westchester campus?" It wasn't actually in Westchester, rather in nearby Purchase, NY, but it was called the Westchester Campus. "Well in September they're opening their School of Business here, too!"

Since Ms. Doherty hadn't known Bobby for long, she probably wouldn't have had reason to be very shocked when it came to his actual excitement for school. But those in the class who knew him, or knew of him, might have been more surprised. After all, the few things that were most widely known about Bobby were: he's an X-Man, and he's a joker.

When he continued, he lowered his voice a little. Excited he may be, but he didn't want to go proclaiming to the world--though the students nearby could still have heard him easily, if they were paying attention. "So I just applied..."

He wore a grin as he turned to a group of boys nearby. They reminded him of himself when he was their age, the way they obviously weren't working on brainstorming. Bobby reached into the middle of them and pulled a piece of notebook paper from a desk, which they'd been drawing on. He looked at it, and then at the boys in turn, then back to the artwork.

"A self-portrait, huh?"

The boys looked sheepish, but laughed nonetheless. Bobby was cool in their eyes, and cool older guys tended to be more likely to get younger guys to do what they wanted than a teacher. "I'm sure your art teacher will weep over this," Bobby joked dryly, "but you're supposed to be discussing ideas."

[heather]

"Good luck," Heather smiled, watching as he turned his attention toward the rowdy desk of boys at the front. One of the other teachers had said something about Bobby wanting to be an accountant, but she'd always thought it was a joke. Maybe not, though.

Well, if he ever needed a reference, she'd be more than happy to provide one.

Wandering over to a group of her own, Heather found herself nodding at the ideas that were being passed around with a soft smile on her face. There were some really good plans already, and she was hoping that the rest of the class would be able to take the cue and think of something both interesting and innovative. She didn't want to see twenty dioramas, though, so she didn't raise the idea to the rest of the class. Even if a townful of miniature victorian homes would make her grin with glee.

She was a collector. She liked pretty, shiny, miniature things.

Especially if they were blue.

After speaking to another table full of people, the blue-haired woman wandered back over toward Bobby and spoke quietly to him. "Everything going alright?"

[Iceman]

Bobby stepped away from a group he'd been watching list some ideas, looking between Ms. Doherty and the list as he read a couple of their most recent ideas. "Yeah...Some pretty good ideas," he said, sliding his hands into his pockets.

"So, did you teach somewhere else before you came here?" he asked her with true curiousity. He hadn't voiced the idea yet, but he was thinking of maybe teaching a class at the school. Maybe business. He'd taken the college-level classes on it at Xavier's, but if you wanted to get any higher degrees or specialize in something, you had to go on to another college.

Which was why Bobby had applied to NYU Stern. Of course, he'd have to get some more experience under his belt before he could teach a class on business. But Bobby was growing up, and was starting to see that while he could be an X-Man for a long time if he wanted to - which he did...he needed to get a job. Something more long-term (and well-paying) than landscaping and being a snowboard instructor during the summer months at a lodge up north.

[heather]

"I did substitute for a while, but this is the first school that I've had a full time job at." Heather lifted a lock of blue-black hair and gave Bobby a small smile. "Even with the Mutant Rights Act, it wasn't so easy to get employed - and if I didn't explain about my mutation, most schools didn't think I'd be setting an appropriate example, with the hair and the eyes and all."

There'd been one blazing row with a principal who had wanted her to dye her hair black. Explaining that it wasn't some hippy college student thing had only made things worse. He hadn't been the most tolerant of people, and in the end she hadn't bothered reporting him anyway - all he had to say was that she was under qualified, and she didn't want to work under him anyway.

No, all their laws and acts and protestations of equality weren't worth the paper they were printed on in the end. Things were never so simple as the government liked to pretend, never so cut and dry.

"And are you planning on being an X-Man your entire life? Or is the reference you're getting for helping out actually going toward some other goal?" There was nothing wrong with volunteering because it would look good on his college applications. Heather was simply interested in just what he was applying for.

[Iceman]

Bobby looked to Bowerbird as she mentioned vaguely that her appearance had made it hard for her to find employment. He'd been around people who were much more odd-looking than she was, so he'd become desensitized to it. He could definently see how people would protest, though. He just kind of thought she was pretty. She looked kind of...mystical.

"And are you planning on being an X-Man your entire life? Or is the reference you're getting for helping out actually going toward some other goal?"

"And are you planning on being an X-Man your entire life? Or is the reference you're getting for helping out actually going toward some other goal?" "Well..." Bobby started, mulling over her question. "I'd like to be an X-Man as long as I can...but I don't necessarily want to live here my whole life, you know?" Bobby had no problem living off of Xavier's money, but he wanted to get a job - a paying job - and make a place for himself in the world.

He did have some ambition, after all.

"I've been thinking about going into accounting," he said with a slight shrug. "But if it could work out that I could do that and still be an X-Man...live close, maybe? That'd be nice."

He looked to her. "So, are you training..?"

[heather]

"Oh, no, I'm not. I don't really have a mutation that would be... Uh, useful for the X-Men. And I really just want to spend my time concentrating on my students." There was a hint of pink in her cheeks at the revelation of how useless her powers were, but Heather held her head high anyway. She may not have been any good for the X-Men, but she didn't care about that - all she wanted to be good for was her students. Of course, there may have been some merit to learning something about defense if she had powers useful for defense, but all she could do was imitate noises.

Hardly a defensive skill. Unless you had an enemy that responded to the sounds of specific bird calls or something. Then they could maybe be called off with a little misdirection. Of course, that required knowing which bird calls and... why was she even thinking like this? She'd never thought about how her powers would be useful during a fight before.

"Accounting sounds good. You like math, then?"

[Iceman]

"Oh, no, I'm not. I don't really have a mutation that would be... Uh, useful for the X-Men. And I really just want to spend my time concentrating on my students."

Bobby nodded. She was very passionate about her teaching, that much showed very clearly.

"Accounting sounds good. You like math, then?"

Bobby bobbed his head, his expression one of uncertainty. "Ehhh...I'm good at it, I guess. And I like it, better than--" He paused, glancing around the room. Insulting English in front of Ms. Doherty didn't seem like a very kind thing to do. "--than some other subjects." English wasn't the only one he didn't like, anyway. He wasn't very good at any kind of history classes, either. He'd barely managed not to fail Government a couple of years back; it had been one of his worst classes, and he'd only squeaked by with a D with Kitty's tireless help.

"So, where are you from?" he asked conversationally. Heather was cool; Bobby liked her. She seemed like a fun teacher as well, though Bobby didn't mourn the fact that he was done with the high school level classes.

[heather]

It was impossible to hold back a smile at the way he diverted attention away from the fact that he'd just about said 'better than English' - amusing as it was, though, Heather wasn't going to enquire as to his opinions on biology.

She didn't take it personally; not everyone did enjoy English. It was a mandatory subject, so she was used to the idea of some people only being there because they had to. At least the older biology students were there because they wanted to be, and having a small class let her give them all the attention that they deserved. Heather always tried to be careful to give everyone equal time in her classes, but unfortunately it wasn't always easy. Those children who were gifted in the subjects and actually wanted to be there didn't get enough of her attention, she felt - but then, that was part of why she'd agreed to let Bobby help her.

The more rowdy students seemed to be listening to him just as she'd suspected. Even in a school where they were taught by some of the X-Men, talking to one of them could still be a big deal for some people.

"Actually, I'm originally from Australia, but I moved out here when I was fourteen. My father's a New Yorker, he lives upstate, not too far away." She smiled, though the memories that telling even a small part of her story brought up could be a little painful. "Where are you from? How did you come to the school?"