This school was his last chance at a semi-normal life and Hotstreak knew it. During his most recent time in juvenile hall, the latest anger management therapist to try to counsel him had made some gains. She was encouraging, a good listener, and didn't act like she knew everything. When she asked about his life goals, he'd struggled to come up with a list and started to get annoyed with the task until she asked about finishing high school. Which brought him to the present. He did want to at least graduate from high school, if only to figuratively spit in the face of people who doubted that he could.

He hadn't been expecting much more than a normal high school, only filled with mutants. Now that he was here and had been through the tour, he was actually optimistic about the time he'd be spending here. The school grounds were a change from downtown Dakota. There was a hangar bay with a real jet, and a place specifically for training powers called the Danger Room. The school gym was pretty well equipped - enough that he'd be able to keep up with his usual weight training routine, anyway.

Then there were the girls. A lot of them were hot. In fact, he didn't think he'd ever seen such a high concentration of good looking girls anywhere other than the nightclubs he'd snuck into with fake ID. If nothing else, he was more motivated to try to be friendly and sociable.

For now, though, he had a math class to get to. The map of the school grounds was helpful enough, but not for finding specific classrooms.

"Stupid map," he muttered.