DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything from X-Men evolution. All I own is the plot
~*~
I cannot believe that I am stuck here doing this. I would rather be on a mission; hell I would even rather face Magneto . . . by my lonesome.
But I am here nonetheless; by my own accord.
When she came to my room to ask me if I would help her with a couple of preparations for the Spring Formal; I said 'Shure suga.' I had no idea that she would bring me to HER room to help HER decide what dress she was going wear for the event.
"Damn Jean, how many formal dresses ya got?!" I'm lounging on a plush recliner and skimming through the latest issue of Seventeen. "Golly how could someone wear THAT!" I whisper to myself before turning the page.
"What was that Marie?" Jean questions from behind her changing curtain. "I'll be out in a couple of minutes. I just have to get this :::RIP!::: Jeez, I guess this one is going in the garbage."
"Take ya time suga," I say while turning another page. "I've got all damn day."
She must have caught the sarcasm in my tone because she exhaled sharply.
"Marie can you help me with the closures of this dress?"
Then again I guess she didn't hear the sarcasm in my voice.
"Shure suga," I get up from my comfortable seat and saunter over to the dressing curtain. "Turn around and I'll zip ya up."
"So what do you think?" Jean asks me swirling 'round in her pink princess dress.
"Oh it's beautiful Jean, really," Everythang's beautiful on ya.
"Why thank you Marie. That's really a compliment coming from you," she looks at me through a full-length mirror and smiles. It's bright, of course, just like her unnatural red hair. I wonder if that color is real.
"You're welcome," I reply while giving her the biggest fake smile that I can muster. I could see by the look on her face that she is buying everything I'm selling. So I take my queue and leave, picking up the magazine I was browsing through and exit the hellhole.
As soon as I turn the doorknob to leave her room, I am bombarded with a solid chest. "Oh I'm sorry," I say while picking up my magazine and exiting the 'perfect' room.
"Rogue wait," it's Scott. "I've got to talk with you." What now? D'ya what me to polish ya boots or something?
"Well you can catch me in the T.V. room. I've gotta go get sumthang real quick," I quickly walk to my room. It's only four doors down, but for some reason it seems to take me an eternity to reach. When I finally get there, I turn around to see if Scott left. He hasn't. He is still in front of Jean's room talking and laughing occasionally. She must've said something really funny about cheerleading or something.
Oh well . . . Scott would probably laugh at anything 'Ms. Princess' happens to blab out. It's so obvious that he has a thing for her. Too bad she's with Logan, huh? I laugh quietly to myself while thinking about an incident that happen last week. The entire school went out to go bowling. Logan and Jean were all over each other. On a venture to the female's restroom, I happened to go outside for some fresh air. Could you believe that I caught them outside furiously dry humping one another on top of Logan's, I mean Scott's brand new Harley! I was mortified, but not as much as Scott. When I turned around to go back inside the building, I collided with Scott who saw as much as I did. I swear that I have never seen anyone so pale; hell he was even paler than me. And I am P-A-L-E.
I shake my head of the memory and continue to open my door.
I enter my room and sink into my bed. I really didn't have to get anything. I just couldn't stand being in their presence anymore. Having to keep the school's residing royalty company is a stressing task in itself. Telling her she is pretty and primping and priming her is even more stressful. If Kitty weren't out right now, then it would most likely be her comforting Jean on her looks. At least she enjoys it.
How can someone with no self-confidence be the co-leader of our team?
With that thought in mind, I grab my French homework and head out to the T.V. room.
~*~
"Je suis faim," Rogue says whole doing her French homework. Mrs. Tawil her French teacher would lay an egg (literally) if she came to class one day without her homework. She is now sitting by the T.V. in a multicolored love seat.
"Non, Chere, you be mean'n' ta say 'J'ai faim'" He eases in front of her smoothly with his duster flying behind him. He plops down right beside, giving her no room to move her right arm.
Marie thinks about it for a while trying to sort if he was for real. "Wha'? Whai don't ya just say say: I am hungry?" She then adds. "Also you don't even speak proper French, so ya caint tell tha difference between wha's right and wha's wrong."
"*Tant pis!* for me, eh? Chere don' parle proper English, but Remy 'derstan's her, non? Besides dat not da way it be. En le français ma chere, ya cain't be hungry. Ya gotta have it, non?"
"Yeah Remy, I guess that's true. Ah mean you do speak French an' all," She looks at him irritably and finally says. "Would ya mind scootin' ova? Ya act liak Ah aint evan got a mutation." After that, she decides to erase her wrong answer and put the one he just suggested.
"Oui an' Remy do udda tings, too. He be a chef, he fight, an he be da bestess luva dis here side of da Miss'i'ppi. Maib-be evan bofh." He takes Marie's gloved hand and kisses it. "Don' eva fo'get dat chere."
"Oh Ah won't," They stare into each other's eyes until Scott interrupts them with a brazen cough. Rogue eyes leave Remy's, but his doesn't leave her face.
"Scott," She takes her hand out of Remy's grasp and stands up. "wha' is it that ya wanted ta talk ta me 'bout?"
Scott doesn't answer her right away. Instead he scowls past her to a reclining Cajun.
"Remy see dat he not wanted no more." He gets up, gracefully.
"Yeah Ah reckon it's tiame fo ya ta leave, swamp rat," Rogue says with a smile on her face.
"Ooo, Remy luvs when ya talk dirty," He whispers while gliding past her, Rogue smiles and steps closer to Scott reassuring him that she is ready to receive what he is willing to tell her. The smile leaves her face as she looks up into his solemn expression.
"Does he ever quit?" He says finally.
"Uh, Scott if this is wha' ya wanted ta talk 'bout than . . ." He cuts her off, shaking his head, telling her that he wasn't.
"No, Rogue . . . . it's not, but it seems like every time I see Remy, he's flirting with somebody."
"Is someone jealous?" Rogue inquires while crossing him and taking a seat in a soft big recliner.
"No," He says sitting in a hardwood chair across from her. "I just saw him flirting with Jean yesterday." His jaw starts twitching. " He couldn't keep his hands off of her!"
"Wow, Scott, Ah knew ya wus protective, but you're getting mad ova unspoiled milk. You an' Jean don't even go tagetha." She keeps her eyes on his face watching his expression as it changes. And believe me, it does.
"Jean has nothing to do with this. It's the fact that he's been here for only two weeks and he thinks he runs everything."
~*~
Yeah right, Jean has everything to do with this.
" Are you sure you're not jealous?" I say then curse myself. His face turns from a calm appearance to a more solemn one. "Well let's get off of Remy and just talk 'bout wha' ya wanted to talk 'bout."
"Well Rogue, it's like this. This year is our last year in high school and the Spring Formal is coming up and . . . . . . . .," He pauses an' looks at me. "do you want to go to Spring Formal with me?"
What is he trying to pull? Does he think Ah was born yesterday? The only reason why he's asking me is because "Miss 'Lil Red Riddin' Hood" is now dating Logan.
I remember the earlier days when used to have a crush on Logan. It faded of course after I saw him naked. Don't get me wrong, he has a very, very nice body, but it's covered with an unusual curly layer of 'Thick Dark Hair'. Body hair is attractive on men, but not at the excess that I have witnessed on him. After seeing him, I literally felt like throwing up.
Okay time to snap out of daze.
Ah hold his gaze for a while to see if he was serious. He is. I then break it to pretend to be contemplating my answer even though I already know it.
"Well, no---yes!" Hey what do I got to lose? My popularity? :::HA!::: Yeah right.
"OK," He letting out a long breath, sounding relieved. He gets ready to leave but I stop him.
"Scott . . . . why did'ya ask me?" A serious question. I wanna know if my hypothesis worked, but I highly doubt that he won't give me a load of shit.
"Because, well," It's gonna be the load of shit. "Rogue it's like this. When you first got here, I acted like a real jerk." Ah nod furiously my head in agreement, it's not everyday he admits his faults and besides it was true. "And now you've been here for a year and I just wanted to . . . aahh . . . .well . . . sorta let you get closer to me."
::yawn:: Really Scott you could have thought of something better than that.
"Why suga, I didn't know ya felt that way." I jokingly drawl, emphasizing my southern accent and hitting him clumsily on the shoulder. It's the only thing I can do to make him feel comfortable. I would hate him to learn that figuring him out is just like reading "An I CAN READ Book". He laughs then adds.
"Marie, I really feel that if we go to the Spring Formal together that it will heal old scars and give us another chance to get off on the right foot. I'm not trying to put you into a relationship . . . . . . other than friendship." Obviously. Scott then grabs my hand (in a similar manner as Remy did) and just holds it.
After I period of required time, I release my hand hesitate and give him a big bear hug. I hate being fake, but it's like a second nature to me. I think that I have perfected my technique while living in this place.
"Scott, that is a very sweet gesture." I say than pull back. "Now I wonder . . . do ah wear my blue lipstick or black?"
"Neither . . . . that's another thing I wanted to ask you."
Let me guess . . . . ya want me to dress like a Jeannie.
"Shoot," Ah say leaning on the side of the big recliner.
"You gotta dress normal. No Goth wear."
"Why?" I pout. "Scott I got this one black lace halter dress with silver spikes at the collar. Suga ya should see it, it's too dope," I emphasize 'dope' by putting my hand in the air as if throwing up a multitude of gang sign.
"Promise Marie," Scott says through a serious expression.
"But . . .?" He cuts me off with a finger pressed against his lips. "Ah . . . . .?" Another finger. "Okay ya win" I say with both hands up in the air. I could do whatever the hell Ah want to, but that won't be fair. "I give in . . . . . so . . . . . what color ya want me to wear?"
"Um . . . . .Rogue . . . . just in case you forgot," Taps shades. "I can only see red." How could I forget when ya never told me?
"So what's the point of not wearing black? Ya cain't tell the difference." I defiantly cross my arms against my chest.
"Yeah, but I know the difference between light and dark colors."
I gasp sarcastically and say, "Amazing!"
"Let me guess, ya want me to wear a light color?"
"Bingo," He shakes his head in agreement and moves in front of me, "I'm not choosy. You can wear an assortment of colors. Yellow, orange, pink . . ." I cringe at every color. Why do they all have to be so bright?
"Alright Scott," Ah uncross my arms, "Ya win . . .again. Well . . . since tha Spring Formal is in three weeks . . . . . . . and isn't there a theme?" I look up at Scott an' ask, "By the way what is the theme?"
"The 'Roaring Twenties'," Scott says then adds. "I already have my zoot suit, plus Ms. Monroe is teaching me the Charlton." Great now I gotta dance with Mr. Stiff. Ah might as well learn the dance, too.
"Oh yeah, Maybe since I'm going to the dance now than I could probably take dance classes, too," I gather up my books, but stop to ask Scott one more question. "Scott?"
"Yeah?"
"What . . . . um . . . . color is ya suit?"
"Oh . . . . you'll see." He then leaves the room leaving me hanging.
"Thank ya," I whisper as I pick up my unfinished homework. Ah might as well finish it.