Side Story: The Heart Has Its Reasons

Author's Note: Hey readers! TR here. Sorry y'all haven't heard from me for a while, but Chapter 5 is going at a Magcargo's pace! And, before I publish that, I've gotta publish this one, since some of the stuff in Ch. 5 won't make sense without this. Bye for now!

Side Story: The Heart Has Its Reasons

Xavier's School for the Gifted, Westchester County, New York

March 10, 2002

"Jessica!"

Professor Xavier's voice roused me from my light slumber. I sat up...and fell off the bed. I looked around, expecting to see him somewhere. Then it came to me.

"Professor, couldn't you find a gentler way to get my attention? Like over the intercom?" I growled, standing up. Psychics can be so fucking annoying!

"Sorry, Jessie, but I need you. We have a new student, and I want you to show her around."

I sneered. "Why don't you get Scott or James to be your welcome wagon? I was asleep!" Hey, I have a blatant disregard for authority! Sue me!

"Scott is out shopping and James is grading papers. Besides, she's about your age, and I want another student to show her the school." he said, with a bite of impatience in his voice.

"Okay...but just this once!"

A few minutes later, I found the Professor, along with our new friend, in his office.

"Ah, Jessie, you're here. This-" he said, indicating the girl next to him,"-is Madeline Morgan-LeBlanc."

I quickly surveyed the girl. She had long, ebony hair that was streaked in a grayish-blue color that briefly reminded me of James. Her dark hair perfectly set off a pair of deep purple eyes and deathly pale skin. She smiled warmly, flashing a set of perfectly even, straight teeth.

I raised an eyebrow. "Sounds French."

Madeline nodded. "Oui. Bonjour, mon ami!"

I facefaulted. "What?"

She sighed. "Bien entendu...Of course. I forgot zat most Americans cannot speak French. What I said was Yes, 'ello, my friend!. Ah, Professor, must I really be taken aroun' zis school by a girl who cannot understand ze lot of what I am saying?"

Now this was too much.

"Now, Madeline, granted there is a language barrier between you two, but that's what you're here to learn."

Madeline looked puzzled. "But I zot Maman sent me here to see...James!"

For at that moment James had entered Professor Xavier's office, a sheaf of papers in one hand. He looked up and jumped, his glasses falling into his other hand. He dropped his papers, students' carefully written essay question answer sheets scattering all over the carpet. But that seemed to no longer matter to my friend, as he lunged forward, embracing Madeline.

"Madeline!" he cried, hugging her tightly. James stepped back, putting his hands on Madeline's shoulders. "Oh, it's been so long! What have you been up to?"

Madeline blushed. And, as I felt a hot, sick swoop of anger and green jealousy in my stomach, Madeline leaned forward and...and kissed James on each cheek! My James! And, as if that wasn't enough, he kissed her! Now I was really pissed.

I stepped between them. Smiling sweetly, I turned towards James.

"James, sweetie," I said, positively lathering on the sugar, "don't you have some...oh, I don't know, papers to grade?" I began tracing patterns on James' chest with a fingertip. "I can take care of Madeline myself, you know. I'm not a baby." There. That should do it. James can never resist a "I-love-you-so-much- James-I'm-trying-to-change-the-subject-without-you-noticing!"!

"But I'm done!" he said, bending down to pick up the papers. "So, if the three of you don't mind, I'd like to take Madeline around."

Madeline positively latched onto James' arm, a euphoric expression on her too-pretty face. It was enough to make me want to puke! Honestly, where did Miss Morgan-LeBlanc get the idea that she could steal James from me?!

"Oh, oui, Professor, yes! Please?" Madeline asked, a pleading look in her amethyst eyes.

"Well, I don't see why not, if it's alright with Jessie."

"Yeah, sure, fine, whatever."

James came over to me now. "Oh, thank you, Jess! You really don't know how much this means to us...how much it means to me." Then, he kissed me. And not just a peck on the cheek, either. No, James' kiss was as soft and tender on my lips as the petals of a rose. He gently drew away, almost as if he didn't want to let me go.

He looked at me evenly, that stare that penetrated even the toughest of my defenses. His haunting eyes seemed to be able to see through me in a way that even Xavier could not. His stare made me uncomfortable, and I looked away, like so many of the other students that could not stand up to their science professor's gaze without at least flinching.

And still James looked at me. I know, I could still feel his eyes on me. Then Madeline gently tugged on his sleeve, and James reluctantly turned away from me. It felt like a firebrand had been lifted from my face, that's how much his gaze had burned. And the emerald fire of James' eyes was the only fire that burned me like that-because no other fire did.

Sometimes I wondered if my own sapphire flames burned him like that.

Oh, well. I didn't have time to worry about that. I had to get Madeline's stuff, after all.

Later, after I had hauled all Madeline's crap to her room(She had monogrammed luggage! Monogrammed makeup cases! It was enough to make one feel nauseous.), I decided to follow the two lovebirds out to the stables. Where Madeline was showing James her(very expensive)horse.

"This is Etoile. Maman and Papa gave 'im to me for my birthday. 'E is beautiful, n'est-ce pas?"

James ran a hand up the stallion's elegant face. He lifted a very full, wavy forelock, revealing a perfect star, like the one that led the wise men to the baby Jesus. James raised both of his eyebrows in surprise.

"Madeline, Etoile is such a belle cheval! Is he a Cheval de Selle Francais?" James asked, checking the stallion's teeth. "He looks like he might have some Arabian in him, though."

Madeline nodded. "Oui, my Etoile is a Cheval de Selle Francais. 'E is of ze purest stock een all of France. I did not want Maman and Papa to spend so much on a cheval, but zey eensisted. I am glad of it, mais oui."

"D' accord. They're definitely rich enough."

Huh. Sounds like James' parents.

James sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Chuckling, he remarked, "If all our new students bring horses, there won't be anywhere for them to go!"

"Oui...well, I suppose not all the students are instructed in ze fine art of 'orsemanship, I guess. So, James, this ees a school. How are ze classes 'ere?"

"Well-" James began.

"The classes suck, there's a lot of homework each night, and the teachers are evil demons with whips. Especially the science professor. He's a fascist slave driver who gives impossible tests, loads of homework, and enough essays and reports to make a girl sick! Answer your question, Madeline?" I interjected.

Madeline looked puzzled. "'E must be a real 'orrible man, to terrorize his students like zat! I 'ope I am not in 'is class, no?"

James looked hurt and angry. He sneered. "Ah, la belle dame sans merci! De l'audace, encore de l'audace, et toujours de l'audace! Well, you just said that a bouche ouverte, didn't you, Jess? Well, let moi tell vous something, mon ami! Je suis the science professor!" James walked over to me, still wearing his sneer. "N'est-ce pas?" he whispered.

I had absolutely no idea what James had just said. Confidently, I told him so.

"Ah, the beautiful lady without mercy!" he hissed. "Audacity, more audacity, and ever more audacity! Well, you just said that with open mouth, didn't you, Jess? Well, let me tell you something, my friend! I am the science professor! Isn't it so?"

James looked as though he was fighting to keep his composure...and losing royally. And then it clicked. I really had hurt him! I knew that his parents and Jessiebelle had hurt James badly, and that the wounds still ran deep on his soul, after the physical wounds-whiplashes, to be exact-had healed. Through his icy facade, James' soul was pure...and fragile as a newly hatched butterfly's wings.

My James was an angel, and I, with the arrows of Satan's malicious spite, had shot him down. And in front of-much as I hated to admit it-his girlfriend! James was incredibly sensitive, and very proud of his position at the school. I, in my moment of careless fun, had taken everything James loved and torn it apart. Like I was Zeus, nonchalantly tossing Cronus's crushed, dripping heart to Cerberus. Cronus, the gentle Greek god of time, who only wanted more time to be with his beautiful wife, Rhea, his brothers and sisters, and to rule over the cosmos God gave him to rule!

And Zeus? He was nothing but an arrogant, spoiled brat who wanted the throne...even if it meant starting a war on the peaceful Titans, a war that nearly tore apart the universe Cronus worked so hard to protect. And ripping out his own father's heart, while Rhea watched, crushing the crystal around it that kept Cronus alive and young, and throwing it to a vicious three-headed dog!

Just like James and I. Yes, James had told me the whole story. He'd even shown me the book, one with beautiful color pictures. When I had seen the illustration of Cronus, resplendent in(oddly enough)French royal garb and lace-up boots, huge blue-and-white wings, his unicorn's tasseled tail, and legendary scythe, of course, I had nearly dropped the book! For there, on the page, was Cronus...and sitting beside me, not nearly as titanic(bad pun, I know.) in any sense, was Cronus incarnate! I swear, there was no difference in the ancient mythological god and James at all! Every line, curve, all the details added up. Well, Cronus's skin was tanned, and James' is white, but who cares?

And I? Rhea. That's right, Rhea and I were identical. Well, she had her huge red-and-white dragon's wings and her dragon's tail, and her hair was all down, but it was me. A point that further proves my theory that James and I are soulmates.(There's more, but it would take too long.)

James. Yes, he was still standing there, white fists clenched, angry on the outside...and breaking...shattering...dying on the inside. I had crashed through his defenses like a bull in a china shop. And, since he'd been off guard, there hadn't been a whole lot to break.

Trembling with pain and rage, James stood before me. And I noticed something. His eyes were clouding and growing pale.

I backed away. Madeline looked at me strangely. I grabbed her arm and dragged her with me.

"Aahh! Unhand me, you brute! Arretez! Maintenant! "

I had no idea what she said, but she probably told me to stop. But I didn't stop. Especially not when I heard trees falling and shattering when they hit the earth.

That evening, as I sat doing my homework(and James-or Professor Woodson-hadn't assigned much, in reality), Madeline came into my room.

"What do you want?" I asked.

"To talk. May I?" she asked.

"So talk." I said, still not looking up.

Madeline sighed and sat down on my bed. "So...James was pretty 'urt by that comment of yours, n'est-ce pas? I mean, after you dragged me off, I saw him blasting some pine trees. 'E looked kind of pissed off, no?"

I looked up at her. "And I didn't mean it. I mean, I would never knowingly do that to James. I mean, I love him-"

Oh, my God. And I just said that to his girlfriend!

Madeline giggled. She picked up my water glass and stuck her finger inside. Soon it was full of cold, clear water.

I laughed. "So that's what you do! I thought you were just here to see your boyfriend!"

Madeline handed the glass to me. "Boyfriend? I...don't know what you mean, Jessie. You must be, 'ow you say, weirded out, no?"

"Yeah, you know...James? Isn't he your American boyfriend?"

She blinked. Suddenly, Madeline fell off my bed, rolling with laughter, giggling and squealing...just like James! She sat up, hiccuping a little and wiping her eyes.

"James, my boyfriend?! Jessie, he is my cousin!"

I nearly fell over myself. James' cousin?!

"But you two are so physical! You even kissed!"

She shook her head. "Jessie, in France, family is very physical. And even in ze South, 'ugs and kisses are commonplace! 'Asn't James taught you anything?"

"Well..."

"Ze two of you seem to be very physical yourselves, merci beaucoup."

I simply sat there, blinking. Then, I knew what I had to do.

I ran out of my room, ignoring Madeline's confused cries.

James wasn't in his room. Or his office. Or the science lab. So, being a woman of some intelligence(James constantly reminded me of my high IQ, but I'd never had a test, so I didn't believe him.), I went out to ask the one person who might know where he was.

"Angel?"

The stallion looked up from his leaf of hay. Angel's pale blue eyes were bright with interest and his own quiet brilliance. I had never talked to him before, and this was new to the both of us.

"Yes, Jessie?" Angel's voice was just like James'. What had I expected? Angel was the only talking horse I knew. What was his voice supposed to sound like?

I suppose, on some subconscious level, I knew, but had never bothered to think about it.

I carefully stepped towards the huge stallion. He laughed, a deep, boisterous sound, more like a neigh than anything.

"Why are you so afraid? I wouldn't hurt you!" he said, still chuckling.

I shrugged. "Angel, this is serious. Do you know where James is?"

He looked at me serenely. "Front paddock. He seemed slightly upset about something-"

That was enough for me. I ran off, starting to cry.

James was lying on his back, facing the endless sea of stars. The moonlight reflected off of his pearly skin and shimmering hair, giving him an icy glow.

I gently kneeled down next to him. James looked up at me, his emerald eyes glittering softly.

"Hey, Jess. What're you doing out here? I'd have thought you'd be partying by now."

"Why?"

"Well, it's currently-" James checked his watch, "-10:15. And Friday."

He sat up, turning to me. "Well, I came out here to...to apologize. James, I'm sorry. That crack was completely out of line...and I'm sorry for thinking Madeline was your girlfriend."

"It's okay, Jessie. I forgave you already."

What?! I totally fuck up, and he forgives me? Who does he think he is? Jesus?

"What? Did you not want me to forgive you?" James' eyebrow began to twitch.

"Well, I just...I don't know."

James shook his head. "I don't understand you at all, but n'importe. I haven't had enough time to begin to fathom your psyche. Oh, well, c'est la vie."

"Oh, James, you know I'm not any good at French!"

He smirked, then leaned in. Seconds later, he was kissing me. I was very surprised at how he kissed me, believe me!

James slowly pulled away from me. He smirked again.

"Au contraire, your French is very good. It could use some improvement, though."

Keeping a perfectly straight face, he said, very seriously, "Let me teach you."

"About the language or..."

"Both."

So, right there in the paddock, I shared my first, well, second, French kiss with James. For a nineteen-year-old reclusive high-school science teacher, James was pretty incredible.

All too soon, it ended, and James and I lay down together, watching the night sky.

"Hey, look, Jess, tonight we can see Saturn! See him?"

I looked up, and, sure enough, there he was. Just a big yellow, star in the distance, but visible. James had somewhat of an obsession with the planet. There was a large model of Saturn and its ten moons in his office, and the obsession was only made worse by James' being a Capricorn, the astrological sign Saturn ruled.

I shook my head good-naturedly. "James, why are you so obsessed with that thing? It's just a big cloud of gas a billion miles away."

"740,000,000 miles. And it's not just gas. Scientists think it may have a core of ice and rock."

"See my point?"

James blushed. "Okay, I'll lay off."

"Hey, James?"

"Yeah?"

"Say something to me in French."

"How about this: Je t'aime."

"Oh-kay. Hey, I've gotta bone to pick with you. Why didn't you tell me Madeline was your cousin?"

He chuckled. "Le coeur a ses raisons, que la raison ne connait point."

"What?"

"The heart has its reasons, whereof reason knows nothing."

"Wait..." I sat up. "D-does that mean you were trying to make me...jealous?" I asked, spitting angrily.

James was up in a flash. "I guess you'll never know!" he cried, running off.

I decided not to pursue him. After all, I had some stuff to think about first. Like, if James really had been trying to make me jealous, did that mean he...loved me? And what he said-je t'aime! Could that...could that have meant I love you?

Getting up and beginning to walk in the direction James went, I decided one thing:

I could only hope.

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