Flare's P.O.V.

"I'm back!" I called as I entered my lab.

"You missed the session," my lab partner, Carona, told me. Her red hair tinted crimson.

"What's up with your hair?"

"They tried to light it on fire."

"Those stupid heads. When will they learn?"

"They always say: You should be able to light it, like everyone else!"

"Just because you can't turn into a fireball like the other students doesn't mean they have to be mean to you!!!" I felt myself heat up.

"Calm down, Flare, or else I'll call you Flame." I hate being called that, so I cooled off.

"Much better." We went around our shared lab and updated the information on the computers. We sat down at a computer and began inserting information on our newest research project.

"You got the necessary data, right?"

"Project W has the data." I showed her a small test tube of energy.

"Is that from... her?" I nodded.

"Be careful. I fear that it may be... the untouchable."

"I'll be fine!" she told me as she inserted it in our testing kit.

Oops. I forgot to explain myself.

I'm Flare. With my friend and lab partner, Carona, I attend Solar Wave Tech. It's a school for those who are educated enough to go to college, but might be a bit to young, or not meet other qualifications. Carona, for example, would've graduated into Middle School, but was accepted here. I'm only a couple years older.

"Flare?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think it's because of my age that I'm... different?"

"It depends on what you mean by that. Yes, if you mean why you're bullied. No, if you mean why you are not able to complete the ignition of your hair." She laughed.

"Night, Flare." She then opened the door to her room, which was connected to the lab.

"Night, Carona," I said, doing the same.