"(Y/n)," Professor X was the next person on the screen, "I believe I'm the last person to give my message. I've seen many minds, and many mutants in my years, but you will always stick out to me. When you thought you were dangerous, or doubted yours...
I don't own anything except any original character and/or any original plot
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Chapter Eight: Dresses
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I woke up the next morning at around 8:30, giving me an hour before Liz and her mom came to pick me up to go shopping.
Checking my phone and scrolling through social media for a few minutes, I then got up and meandered to the kitchen. Mom set a plate of eggs and bacon in front of me, a cup of (Hot Drink) on the side.
"Thanks," I picked up the drink and blew on it.
"So, dress shopping for your first school dance. Are you excited?"
I shrugged. I set down my cup with a nearly inaudible clank. Picking up my silverware I started on my food.
"I'm going with Liz, that'll be the best part. But having to go out in public with people... Not so much."
"It sounds girly either way," my dad shuddered, "Don't get me wrong. I saw a guy wearing a pastel blue dress when I was getting out of a cab the other day, and I kind of wanted to ask him where he got it so I could buy one."
"Or yourself or one of us?" Mom asked with a small laugh.
Dad shrugged, chuckling. Being raised a mutant, with my parents being close friends with all the teachers at Xaviers, had given all of us insight on the discrimination minorities faced. From that, all of us were on a level of acceptance and understanding that many couldn't reach.
My small family sat- or stood- around the kitchen counter together. All of us made small talk as we ate our breakfast. When we were done we put our dishes in the sink- Dad promising to wash them later that day.
I went back to my room and rummaged through my clothes until I found an outfit I could wear out. It was a black pair of jeans and a white shirt with LIBERTÉ written on the front in all caps black letters. It was simple enough for an outing to different stores around New York. I looked over the jewelry on top of my dresser. Gingerly picking up the gold locket the X-Men had given it I hooked it on my neck and went to the bathroom.
In the bathroom I rinsed my face and patted it dry with a towel. Looking at myself in the mirror I styled my hair and put on a bit of makeup, putting in an effort I normally wouldn't I was leaving the house after all.
Swiping a bit of lip gloss over my lips I popped them, grinning when the sound echoed through the bathroom.
"Ooo, she's working it Clara!" I heard my dad yell from the living room.
"Yas queen!" Mom yelled in response.
"Where did you two learn to talk like that?" I asked in disappointment, walking to the living room to face my embarrassing parents.
