7 YEARS AGO

“Betsy! Betsy! Over here!” yelled a photographer, the limousine pulling up behind him.

She hated when they mauled her like this! Yes, dating a huge football star like Stephen Knight was a big deal. And, yes, she was an heiress turned socialite but she really didn’t need all of this attention. Couldn’t she just enjoy dinner with her boyfriend?

She complained to Stephen, who had gripped her waist and was posing for the cameras.

“Stop worrying, Bets,” was his response, flipping his auburn hair and smiling. “This is how I’m going to get some endorsements! If people know that I’m always in the media, they’re going to want me to wear their clothes and promote their products.” Stephen had just signed a twenty million dollar contract with Chelsea and he was flying high: he wanted to be the next David Beckham.

Dating Elisabeth Braddock was a good start, wasn’t it?

Betsy took his advice and smiled along with her handsome beau, flipping her jet black hair and batting her eyelashes. She blew a kiss to one of the photographers and they all went crazy with excitement.

“Love you, Bets!” yelled one of them.

“You’re so hot!” yelled another.

She turned to Stephen and pulled his head down. “Can we leave now? Daddy will be worried,” she whispered. He nodded his head, waved to the photographers and opened the limousine’s door. Betsy slid in, the collective sigh from the paparazzi quite audible to her. Stephen slipped in afterward.

“Wasn’t dinner wonderful, Bets?” Stephen said. He kissed her neck; she rolled her eyes: she was becoming a bit tired of him.

“It was fine,” she said. He was clearly drunk and he continued to grope her all over and she continued to shove him off. When the limo stopped in front of her family’s Knightsbridge townhouse she exhaled heavily, shoved the drunken twenty one year old off of her chest and opened the door herself, too impatient to wait for the driver to do it. She opened the door and waltzed inside.

Brian was in the living room, sprawled out on the sofa and reading a book. He looked up at her with the same violet eyes. He was a peculiar nineteen year old boy: so handsome but such a geek. When he had turned thirteen, it was as if overnight he’d become a major hottie. Girls were all over him! He had somehow gotten muscular and he no longer needed his glasses, which hid his eyes. With a makeover from his twin sister, he had looked fabulous. Despite his good looks, he was an ambitious soul. He could easily have become a male model but he decided to do something “more meaningful” by getting his degree in business.

Betsy was doing no such thing.

“Hi, Brian,” she said, sitting in one of the luxurious chairs that they had just gotten. “You stayed home on a Saturday night to read? I don’t know how we were one in Mum’s womb.”

“It’s a question I ask myself everyday,” he retorted, propping up and closing his book. “Filmed your sex tape tonight, did you?”

Betsy chuckled. “With a brother like you…”

Sir James Braddock walked into the room and tousled his daughter’s curly hair. She yelped and swatted his hand away. Sir James was a tall man who looked nothing like them, save for the same violet eyes that both teens possessed: a characteristic that all Braddocks with the exception of Jamie, their older brother, had inherited; he had their mother’s green eyes. He was very fit for a man in his early fifties and he wasn’t all together an unattractive man.

He ran his fingers through his silver locks, a habit he had since boyhood.

“Daddy, I hate when you do that!” Betsy yelled, flipping her long hair behind her shoulder.

“I like your dress,” he said, dismissing her last statement and tugging at the hem of her designer dress. “How much does this set me back love? Two thousand euros?”

“Very funny, Daddy! As if we couldn’t afford it!” said Betsy, folding her arms like a spoiled child and pouting. Sir James Braddock had made his fortune through technology: he was a whiz. He had been so useful to the development of the world that the Queen took note of it and knighted him.

Lady Braddock, their mother, came in at that very moment, talking on the phone and clutching to her small dog, who was clearly struggling to get out if it. She was a tall woman: a former American supermodel, actually. Very beautiful and statuesque, Sir James could not believe his luck when he had met her in his early twenties. Brian had her ice blonde hair.

“…and I would like to come to the salon at two. What do you mean you don’t work on Sundays? Make it happen!” She hung up and threw the dog onto the floor; Pomegranate, Lady Braddock’s small, brown dog, joyfully ran to Betsy and jumped on her lap. She shoved the dog off.

“Ew! Do you even know how much this costs?” Betsy said, standing up and walking out of the room. “Elizabeth, keep your pets to yourself, won’t you?” She skipped up the stairs. “I’m going to bed!”

*******

Betsy always liked it here: it was so cool. The air in this place always smelled like lavender and the grass was always so soft. As long as Betsy could remember herself she had escaped to this place in her dreams. She would always just lay here and look into the stars. She would hear the occasional whisper but it did not impact her too much.

“Hello, there,” someone said behind her.

This had surely never happened before. Betsy turned around and examined the creature who was levitating over the grass. She was a pretty pixie-like kind of girl. Her blue hair was cut in a short bobb and she had these tiny slits for eyes. Her cheeks were full and she was smiling so intensely that it practically disgusted Betsy.

“I’ve been watching you for sometime,” began the girl. She giggled. “I’m surprised that you didn’t notice me, Betsy!”

“Did my subconscious create you?” said Betsy, standing up and squinting her eyes. She felt the sudden urge to cover herself: she was only in her sheer bed dress. A robe suddenly appeared around her, covering her body.

“Betsy Braddock the famous socialite! You’re notorious here in London!” said the girl, taking a seat on the grass and patting next to her. Betsy sat down.

“You know my name,” began Betsy, “so what’s yours?”

“Oh! Sorry! I’m Jane! A telepath like you.”

“A what?”

“A telepath? You don’t know what that is? A mutant ability…”

Betsy’s eyes opened wide and she waved her hands frantically. “I’m not a mutant!”

Jane giggled again and threw her head unto the grass. “Of course you are, silly! This is the astral plane! Only telepaths can access! Silly!” She sat back up and looked into the confused girl’s face and sighed. “You really didn’t know, did you? You’re a mutant, Betsy Braddock!”

Betsy closed her eyes and when she opened them she was back in her huge room and sprawled out in her enormous canopy bed. When she looked outside the window she could see people buzzing about and then she heard her brother calling out to her. She changed into her shorts, put on a vest and some slippers and ran down the stairs. Brian had the cordless in his hand and when he saw her he tossed it.

“Some Jane girl,” was all he said before returning to his book.

Betsy cautiously put the receiver by her ear. “Hello?”

“Did you think that you could just leave the astral plane and I wouldn’t be able to find you? You’re so silly! Meet me at Hyde Park as soon as you can!” said Jane on the other end.

“Why would I do that?” said Betsy, playing with her hair.

“Betsy,” began Jane, decidedly more serious, “if I wanted to hurt you, I could have surely done that while we were in the astral plane! Now come on! I’ll meet you there!” Soon after this, Betsy heard the dial tone.

*******

“This girl had better be legit, Jane,” said Leona, taking a seat on the bench with the other girl. “We’re not trying to run a sorority here! You keep making these friends!”

“Leona, just shut it, okay?” said Jane, looking at herself in her compact and glossing her lips. “When you see her you’ll be pleasantly surprised!”

Just then, a beautiful girl with jet black hair that shone brightly in the morning sun approached them. She had on the most fabulous black pumps Leona had ever seen and her black Chanel clutch was a perfect match. Her royal blue dress showed of her perfect figure and the pearls around her neck was that perfect touch of elegance.

“B…Be…Betsy Braddock?” said Leona, almost to the point of swooning. She felt so underdressed now! All she had on was some ten year old jeans and a hideous tank top. Betsy Braddock was a struggling fashion designers greatest dream! It was rumoured that she was actually flown to Donatella Versace’s mansion to be muse to her latest designs!

Betsy recognized Jane and breathed heavily. “What is this? I thought we were going to be meeting alone?”

“I don’t go anywhere without my best friend Leona. Betsy, this is Leona Hiss. Leona…”

“Of course I know who she is!” Leona ran and hugged Betsy. Jane practically had to peel her off.

Betsy took a seat on the bench and the other two girls sandwiched her. This Leona was a weirdo: green hair (which looked like vomit) and such hideous clothes! Hopefully no one would see her with this freak…

“What do you want?” asked Betsy hastily. “I’m supposed to meet my boyfriend for lunch.”

“Betsy, have you accepted that you’re a mutant?” asked Jane, looking into Betsy’s eyes. Betsy could see that Jane was probably Chinese or mixed with Chinese at least.

“I’m…I’m not sure, okay? This isn’t easy for me…”

“I understand, Betsy. I was you, once! But that was before I got the help I needed. Being a mutant isn’t easy. Being a telepath is harder. You can’t do it alone,” said Jane, taking her hand and squeezing it tight.

You can trust me, Jane said in Betsy’s mind.

“Did you just…?”

“You’ll be able to do it too! Do you know what attracted me to you on the astral plain, Betsy? You’re raw psionic power! It was magnificent! And you accessed the astral plain all by yourself?” said Jane excitedly.

“As long as I’ve known myself I’ve always been able to go there!” said Betsy, suddenly feeling uncomfortable.

“Betsy, we don’t live in Knightsbridge like you: we’re kind of in between places right now. Can Jane contact you when we’re set up? She can help you to harness your abilities!” Leona interjected.

“And for now, we can meet on the astral plain. I’ll help you there. Selene helped me and I’m going to pay it forward,” said Jane.

Betsy was confused: she had just met these girls and they were so nice. But the question still remained: was she really a mutant? Jane didn’t look too much older than she was! How could she be able to help her to hone these powers; powers that she wasn’t even sure that she had? It was all too fantastic for Betsy to understand but…

“Sure, Jane,” she said, smiling along with her new bubbly friend. “Thank you.”