AN: The first of a few. Gotta love Amara. Thanks to furygrrl for the review.

I never knew.

Or actually, I did, I just never acknowledged. At the back of my mind, there was always red. Always. The shade of red paint that covered Scott's convertible reminded me of her. The red of the traffic lights or the stop sign always brought me back to her. The red of a ruby, especially. She was a ruby. Something within my reach, my grasp, my capabilities of obtaining, but also something that would cost me a fortune to get. I wanted to possess her, and I could, just not without a sacrifice. A big sacrifice. I wanted to have her. I wanted her to have me. Of course, things don't work like that.

What would people say? They were already saying things. Amara, the little stingy, selfish, spoiled brat Princess, hanging with the very image of perfect. Clinging to the very image of perfect. Jean was everything that perfect stood for. Her beauty, brains, social status, everything was almost too good to be true. Almost. And I wanted to be near her. I desperately wanted to be near her. Most wanted to be her, I just wanted to be near her. Actually, I wanted her. Not just to be near, but to have her. There were always whispers going around, swirling from mouth to ear behind my back. Is Amara really that desperate? Is Jean too nice? Are they just friends? Is... no... Amara? Amara Aquilla, right? Bitchy queen of spoiled brats? In love with Jean Grey? Oh please. They may be together a lot, too much in fact, but that brat with Jean? Excuse me while I puke.

If things were like that already, I can't bear to think of how they would be if they'd known. But they don't matter. What matters is what Jean would think. How would she react if she'd known that my adoration was more than just platonic? That it goes so much deeper than what she thinks? Would she still go out of her way to wake me up in the morning, when everyone else wished sorely that I would sleep in and miss school? Would she still come in, late at night, to sit me down in front of her crossed legs and gently run her fingers through my hair and wave the hair dryer back and forth to dry my soaking strands? Would she still hold me close during scary movies? Would she still kiss my forehead and wipe away my tears with the soft pad of her thumb when I cried? She wouldn't. I know she wouldn't. She'd shy away from me, because she'd be scared. Who wouldn't be? And even if Jean is so nice and perfect, even she would be scared. Because, honestly, everyone would be scared if their friend, someone who they treated like a little sister, turned out to be in love with them. So I've never dared to tell her. In fact, I don't think I ever will. Not if I can help it.

x x x

"Amara?"

Amara guiltily jerked her head up, shaking stray thoughts from her head in preparation to talk to a certain red-haired telepath.

"Yes?"

Jean frowned slightly. The closed look on Amara's face wasn't boding well with her.

"Is something wrong?"

A smile appeared on Amara's face, looking close to strained.

"No, of course not."

And don't try to go in and find out yourself, Jean.

Jean smirked.

Caught before I could even commit the act.

"Logan sent me up here to call you down for a newbie training session in the Danger Room."

"Isn't Logan not teaching us anymore?"

The whine in Amara's voice made Jean smile. Sitting down next to Amara on the bed, Jean crossed her legs and gently ruffled Amara's chocolate strands.

"Okay, fine, it was Scott."

Underneath her fingers, Jean could sense Amara tensing. Somehow, everytime Jean mentioned Scott or Duncan, Amara would tense up, as though in distaste.

"Can I not go?"

"Amara!"

"But I don't wanna go!"

Amara put on her best puppy dog face and looked up at Jean, hoping that her adorable features would soften the red-head. Jean chuckled and tapped the tip of Amara's nose, causing her to wrinkle it. That elicited more chuckles.

"Amara, I know you're desperate when you put on a puppy dog face."

"Yes, I am, I would never let anyone see that, except for you, of course."

Amara aimed a sly grin at Jean, who returned it with an amused look.

"I'm flattered, but sucking up won't work. Neither will any more efforts at looking adorable either."

"But Jean!"

"No buts Ms. Amara. Everyone else is going, so you have to go too."

"But... But..."

Amara spluttered, unable to think of anything to get herself out of this predicament. Looking into Jean's kind green eyes, something clicked.

"Scott likes you, you know."

Jean blushed.

"I know."

"Couldn't you just, you know, sidle up to him," at this, Amara leaned in suggestively against Jean, "and use that lovely finger of yours," Amara gently ran her index finger down the side of Jean's face, along her jawline, and gently tilted Jean's face upward with her finger resting lightly under her chin, "and, well, you know."

Amara leaned in close. Very close. So close that Jean could feel the heat of her face against her own. So close that Jean was enveloped by those hazel eyes. So close that their lips almost touched.

And then, Amara pulled away.

"You could do that." she finished, breathless.

"I could do that..." Jean trailed, also breathless.

Amara pulled away from Jean and stared down at the mattress. She shouldn't have done that. It had been too close. If she hadn't found that last ounce of self-control in her, things would have ended differently. Things would have gotten out of hand, and, well, it had just been too close.

"Amara?"

She didn't dare look up to face Jean.

"Yes?"

"Do you have anything to tell me? Anything at all?"

Amara gulped, uncomfortable, and shook her head.

"No, nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Yeah, nothing."

Jean sighed and stood up. The mattress creaked, echoing Amara's feelings of protest.

"Are you going now?"

"Yeah."

Jean turned and strode towards the door, hips swaying teasingly. It was an unconscious thing, something that Jean did naturally, and it had Amara entranced for a few moments. Amara snapped out of it in time to ask Jean something.

"So, are you going to do that thing to Scott for me?"

"For you?"

"Yeah, to get me out of the training session."

"Something like that hardly seems appropriate to be done for someone else."

"You're avoiding the question, Jean."

Jean gazed into those deep mahogany eyes and felt a flicker of something. She quickly brushed it away, knowing that Amara wouldn't like it if she probed.

"Sorry Amara, but you have to come to the training session."

Amara simply looked away.

"Hey, I'll tell Scott to assign you to my team, okay? I'll go easy on you."

Amara still stared at the side wall.

"Amara?"

"I'm not going, Jean."

"Amara, this isn't the time for your little disagreements. You're always willing to train with me, why can't you come to the training session?"

Because I'm training with you, not Scott.

Jean heard the thought as though it were broadcasted to her, but she knew that Amara had meant for that to stay private.

"Amara, you're hiding something. You're hiding something, and it's bugging you."

"No, I'm not Jean. Just go down and teach the other kids. With Scott."

Stupid Scott, why does he have to-

"Amara, do you have something against Scott?"

Jean stood in the doorway, the hallway light bathing on her lithe form, highlighting her auburn waves, making it so much harder for Amara to concentrate and think.

"Are you reading my thoughts again, Jean?"

"No! You're broadcasting them!"

"No, I'm not! Get out of my mind, Jean!"

"I'm not in your mind!"

They were both losing their tempers, fast. Jean was annoyed at the fact that Amara was hiding something from her, and the fact that Amara was calling Scott stupid. Amara was annoyed that Jean was so ignorant, and the fact that she couldn't tell Jean what was bothering her.

"Get out."

"What?"

"Get out Jean, leave me alone!"

"Amara-"

"Out!"

A ball of magma hurled itself towards Jean, but a simple wave of her hand disintegrated it. A quick beckon of her hand drew Amara up from off of the bed and towards her. In a moment's notice, Amara was pulled into Jean's arms, and Jean held her.

Amara, something's wrong. I care about you, it's why I'm mad, and I know that you want to keep things to yourself, but this something is bugging you. Why can't you tell me?

Amara sniffed and buried her face into Jean.

I want to. But I can't.

Why not?

Because you would hate me if I did.

I wouldn't.

You would. Anyone who was in the same position would.

What do you mean?

I can't tell you. Don't ask Jean, please, don't ask.

Jean didn't try to protest when Amara pulled away. Turning, she strode quietly down the hall, listening to the soft click of Amara's door shutting. Jean didn't understand what was going on, nor could she even try to start understanding. The only thing she knew was that there had been something in her eyes. Something that she had seen in a few other people's eyes. Shaking her head, she walked away.