His stare always burned my soul. When I felt him looking at me I would stare into his eyes, transfixed. Then I would feel something cold clench my stomach and realize that Bobby was sitting right next to me, always a mood killer. I would hide my annoyance and give him a smile. He always played with my hair, a gesture which he undoubtedly thought was cute, but made me have an urge to touch him and knock him out.

John always smirked at me when Bobby started to touch my hair. He could tell that I didn't like it. Then again, John could usually tell what was going through my mind when no one else could. Everyone thought I was so innocent and vulnerable. Logan always thought that I needed him to take care of me. I handled things pretty well without him for a few months.

I hated the students being cautious around me. I understood that it wouldn't be fun for them to be in a coma, but c'mon would it kill them to get within ten feet of me? Even Bobby avoided getting too close; even if I wore my gloves he would hesitate to take my hand, in fear of grazing an inch of my deadly skin.

John treated me like a normal human being. He was affectionate in his own weird way. He enjoyed throwing me over his shoulder and taking me away from Bobby just to piss him off. I always acted like I was offended and annoyed by that action, but he could tell I liked it.

I could talk to John. Really talk to him. He understood what it felt like to be an outsider. The other students were cautious around him too just because he had a tendency to show off his power a bit too much. Fire just screamed danger to them. To me, when John played with fire it felt like he was playing with life. Controlling how much it would grow, how quickly he could extinguish it. It gave me chills to watch him. And it turned me on too.

Let's face it. John was hot (no pun intended). Every girl has had a crush on the rebel at least once in their life. John was mine. In English class we sat next to each other and passed notes. Sometimes I would just stare at him and when he'd catch me looking at him, he'd smirk and give me a wink. I just scoffed at him, acting disgusted when really I found it nice.

I never could understand how John and Bobby were friends. I had heard that opposites attract and all that crap, but they seemed to always be fighting; they had different views on everything. John got tired of Bobby always following the rules and being a teacher's pet. Bobby thought John was too irresponsible and reckless. Whenever they argued I just rested my head and waited for them to get sidetracked on a topic like basketball. I never did understand boys.

I didn't feel guilty the first time John kissed me. I guess it was because I was in shock. He was helping me write a sonnet for English. We were in the library and I had thrown down my pencil in frustration- I just couldn't see the point of poems and couldn't write one to save my life. The pencil rolled off the desk and we both reached for it. Our heads bumped and John looked into my eyes. Then he gave me the quickest peck on the lips.

Things got out of control from there. While we couldn't do too much stuff (I wasn't totally reckless about my mutation) we still found ways to sneak around. I felt like I could tell him anything. I had my own room and at night John would sneak in and we would spend the whole night talking about everything and anything we thought of. Bobby never expected anything wrong. I guess he had faith in me. Poor kid.

John tried to convince me to end it with Bobby, but I didn't want to. It wasn't because I cared about Bobby in that way, it was just I liked John being my secret. I liked having something that I could call my own. John never could understand when I tried to explain it to him. He ended it with me a week before the school was attacked.

When he went to join Magneto I felt betrayed of course, but a part of me always knew that John would leave. He didn't like following the rules, having to accept things the way they were. Magneto offered him a chance to change how mutants were treated, to stand up for his own kind. Even if that old guy was insane. I miss him everyday. I don't know how I'll be able to fight against him if I see him again- his stare will burn my soul and all I'll be able to do is stare into his eyes, transfixed.