TIME.
My alarm went off.
I was as ready as I'd ever be.
"Turn off the damn alarm, Kit-Kat!"
I snickered. Jubilation Lee, on the other hand, wasn't ready. She rarely was. I uncurled my body from fetal position, my legs sliding over the silk material of old pajamas. My eyes fluttered open, my breathing light. It was only light now, in the early day, before the sun had come up. All the other times of the day it came shockingly rapid and hard. It was usually because of my loathed shyness and the perpetual nervousness it produced, or because the fates decided to make my daily schedule a jogging course, making classes or danger room sessions or get-togethers on completely opposite sides of the mansion. But here, in my bed, I cling to the calmness.
First day of school…first day of seniorhood.
Was that a word, I challenged myself. My face snuggles deeper into my down pillow. First day of the best privileges, first day of driver's ed….first day of seeing Remy LeBeau referred to as a professor…first day getting to know everyone. It is the first day of everything; it even seems like the first day of the rest of my life, but not even that is true. I had promised myself last year the day I became an official X-Men__ the day I saved Jimmy and the day I actually got to wear the flattering leather suit outside___that was the first day of the rest of my life. And what a day it was.
I rolled over, biting the inside of my bottom lip. The alarm clock says 5:40. The clock controls just about everything in my life and how long I do whatever I do.
Jubilee lets out another less-than-attractive growl. "Kaaaathhheerriiiinnnnne!"
I smirk and tap the "off" button. I turn my head around my shoulder just in time to see Jubilee sink underneath her covers. It's weird to me that she's a junior now. She should still be thirteen. Well, I want her to be. According to the clock, she should be where she is now…but the clock is so unforgivably objective. I wonder if mom and dad thought the same thing when I sent them my picture last year.
…Nevermind.
I prop myself up on my elbows and stare at the bed frame for a few seconds before pushing myself from my sweet cocoon of blankets. I calculate the time in my head. Two and a half hours. Plenty of time for a jog. I hop up soundlessly and cross the room to go to my dresser. The bottom right drawer holds Jubilee's sweatpants that she keeps there because she insists they don't belong in her "beautiful" closet. "Beautiful" to her is neon and zebra-printed and studded. Things I wouldn't wear dead or alive, but I keep my mouth shut about it and that's why she loves me…and I love her because Jubilee wouldn't be the same without her bright accessories and eccentrically-designed pants. But since sweatpants (from around here anyways) aren't zebra-printed or hot pink, the charcoal gray material is thrown in my heap and I wear it nearly every other day on my jog. Jubilee doesn't know, but she wouldn't care. She only wears sweats to pre-team danger room sessions and how often does she skip those?
About as often as Logan goes to bars.
You do the math.
I hike up my nightgown and tug it over my head, heart-decorated panties immediately hidden by the cotton cloth I pull over them. Next comes the maroon tank top folded on top of the dresser. I slide into it and grab the empty water bottle that was sitting next to it. I spot my running shoes, one half-hidden underneath my bed, one near the door; grab both. The door, slightly unaligned with the hinge because of a childish fight between Jubilee and Tabitha, now makes too much noise when opened. So I phase through, the feeling of being thin as air engulfing me before leaving me alone in the dark hallway. No one should be up at this hour anyway, so it's not all that unexpected.
Well, it wasn't until I smelled coffee halfway down the stairs.
Who drinks coffee? Storm. Hank. Emma. Ms McTaggert. I name them off in my head. Peter drinks coffee too, but he only gets up when he has to. Logan? I don't think Logan drinks coffee. Emma drinks the expensive stuff...with quite the unique smell. This smells nothing like it. Beast would be in his lab at this hour, if even up at all. He has a coffee maker down there. Ms McTaggert would be asleep. So that means….
Storm…and that makes sense.
It's the first day of school after all. She needs to be wide awake, being the new headmistress. My mouth loses its amused upturn. Is she anxious? Why is she up so early? I head for the kitchen. I don't like snooping, but it's not really snooping, is it? I mean, I have to go there to refill my water bottle anyway. I turn the corner that leads into the kitchen and see no one. Storm's mug is in the middle of the table, the one with the cute picture of a cartoon giraffe on it that Jimmy had got her as a present. It was empty.
For a moment, I'm afraid. Then I figure she might have gone somewhere as the coffee is preparing itself. Sure, that's it. I head to the sink to fill up the bottle, hand getting a rude awakening as the cold metal knob tells it good morning. A cool stream patters against the container; I look around nervously, feeling like one of those stupid kids in a horror film. Should I be worried? It isn't completely unheard of for some monster to pop out from nowhere. Some kids here have powers that make bad dreams bad actualities. All of them, from what I know, have learned to control it…but with some new kids showing up for the schoolyear…well, you never know what they can do.
Or if you should be afraid of it.
"Katherine____"
I let out a bark of fear, and twist around, sprinkles of water flying around the room.
Storm stands there, eyes wide. Then the edge of her mouth rises the tiniest bit and instantly I feel stupid. I can stand against psychopaths who can disintegrate any molecular structure and challenge a giant to a game of tag in a quickly collapsing 4-story building. But I freak out when my princi__friend greets me.
"I'm sorry," I whisper, letting out a breath of air and an awkward giggle.
"That's fine," she replies, a kind twinkle in her blue orbs, "Good morning."
"Good morning," I say, grinning a tad before turning back around to fill up my water bottle.
"Going for a jog?" she makes small talk. I hear small footfall and imagine her checking the coffee pot.
"Yeah," I respond quietly…then I feel bad for giving such short answers. "I like to run in the mornings. Gets me…prepared."
I feel I sound idiotic. Prepared for what, Katherine, I chastise myself. My head peers over my shoulder to see her pouring the dark brown liquid into her mug.
"Running is always a great way to get some thinking time in," she responds lightly, looking up at me, smiling still.
She runs? Well, maybe she doesn't. Maybe I just imply stuff. But then I've seen her in the Danger Room and remember she can outrun any Olympic athlete, that she grew up in Africa.
I chuckle a little to fill in empty space, "You could probably outrun me," I banter. It had nothing to do with where the subject was going. I turn around to see my water bottle full to the brim and overflowing. I quickly pull it from under the faucet and pour some over the edge before turning the knob back to its normal position.
"I don't know about that…" she murmurs humbly, turning the coffee maker off. But we both know she could outrun me. Me and Bobby and Ms. Braddock and even Logan. That's why all the kids fight over which team she's on at field day. I choose to let the subject go, knowing she'll continue to deny it, and try some other tactic. It feels wrong to just leave and say bye and then not see her again until sixth period.
"Why're you up so early?" I ask lightly, taking a sip of the water meant for jogging just to give my mouth something to do. I peer at her over the bottle, taking in her attire. "Adventure Time with Finn and Jake" pajama pants and a lavender tank top, robe barely hiding the figure she's probably had since God knows when. Storm never seems to age. Socks cover her feet, make her footsteps barely audible. Her short snowy locks are only slightly ruffled. But then there are the dark rings underneath her eyes and the fatigue so evident in her posture. Has she gotten skinnier? Maybe I'm paranoid. Yes, I'm paranoid.
Just mind your business, Katherine.
She shrugs, smirking a tad, "Oh, I get up early every now and again."
In my head, an imaginary announcer says she dodged the question with a perfect "10"
I nod without words or questions or any other conversation-starters in mind. I'd better hop to it anyway…the sun'll come up soon. Then more early risers. Then everyone else. Then I'm not ready and I don't get a warm breakfast.
She must sense my withdrawal. "Well, you better move along if you want to finish your jog and still get a couple winks of sleep," she smirks understandably.
"Oh…yeah," I admit breathily. I don't like people sensing anything I do or plan to do. It doesn't annoy me, but it does catch me off guard, takes up time I didn't plan for it to take. Maybe that's why I'm always so uptight around Logan, I admit mentally to myself. He always knows what's up; he smells it in your breath and hears it in your heartbeat. It should interest me, like it interests Hank, but when the same person is armed with adamantium claws and an explosive temperament, I simply can't get the same enjoyment out of it.
I'm wordless and I hope she doesn't take it personally. I look at her and notice she's staring at the window by my head, above the faucet. The first wisps of sunlight must be gathering behind the trees, I decide. It is a pretty sight. One I'd rather go outside to see. I smirk at her and nod as I pass, but she seems faroff. She comes back to reality once she notices I'm no longer in front of her, once I'm a foot away from the corner that leads me back into invisibility and darkness and time and rapid heartbeats.
"You know, Kitty…just because I'm headmistress now. It doesn't mean we're not still…you know you can always talk to me…" her voice trails off. I'm overcome with guilt in a matter of seconds. Is that how I come off? Aloof? Treating her like a leper because she's in Charles' seat…no, his throne. Acting like one of the more bratty kids who call her heartless and "Ms. Freeze" behind her back. It confuses me how some of them even like Emma more. But that's probably because Emma is a snarky bitch and doesn't mind humiliating any kid who even dares to cough in her direction the wrong way. Her impatience amuses them to some degree. My mouth gets dry. Maybe I even have been a little afraid, sorta. It's bizarre…having someone who you could easily talk to last year now be in control of your GPA and your privileges and your roommate and if you continue to be a part of the X-Men or not. In control of everything. Like time.
"I___I didn't mean for_____" my head shakes and I turn around to see her sipping more coffee and nodding her head slightly behind the mug.
"For me to notice?" she cuts off, but I hear the tone in her voice. The one she'd use when describing Jubilee's latest purchase after driving a few of the lowerclassmen to the mall or was explaining the way scientists predicted the weather while on a field trip.
Purely joking.
I laugh a little, not being able to help it. Rolling my eyes slightly at her mischief and locking mine with hers. With my eyes, I give her the equivalent of a hand-squeeze and turn to walk away.
"Oh, and don't tell anyone about my pajama pants or I'll fail you."
My quiet laughter already bouncing around the room, but when I turn around, her coffee cup is covering her mouth; her eyebrows are raised, daring me. Her face deadly serious as she sips and eyes me all at once.
The only thing betraying her is the slight twinkle in them; illuminating those irises.
I try to hold in my smirk, looking down and nodding my head furiously before entering the hallway.
This schoolyear could be fun.