A/N: Do not own X-Men Evolution
Rogue sat crumpled up on the window sill. She stroked on her Obviously Onyx nail polish. She looked through the shimmering glass; a certain Cajun grabbed her attention: Remy LaBeau, newest member of the X-Men. He looked up at the window, their eyes touched, he winked and gave her a nod like the shameless flirt he was. Rogue blushed and swung her head to the side. Swamp-rat, Ah oughta…
"Rogue!" The perky teen that was Kitty bounded up the stairs, interrupting the Goth's nasty thought "Rogue!"
"Hey, Kitty." Rogue blew on her dark nails.
"Guess what?" Kitty's chocolate brown ponytail shook with her excitement. Her blue eyes sparkled like a child's, "Cheer tryouts are, like, coming up at school and I thought it would be… fun…" her enthusiasm died down as Rogue's green eyes gave her a you-cannot-be-serious look. Rogue sighed. This sounded like another one of Kitty's desperate schemes to take her mind off Lance. Lance had kept her hanging on for months only to inform her that there was "someone else": a bleached blond floozy who went bed hopping on a regular basis.
Kitty's lip trembled slightly; her blue eyes dimmed and fell to the floor, "Yeah, um, never mind. It was like, a stupid idea anyway." She began to slump away.
In a rare moment of sympathy and compassion, Rogue's gloved hand grasped Kitty's small wrist. "Why not? Ah mean, it might be fun. We could make fun of the ditzy snobs. Get a good laugh." The anti-pep teen forced a smile (that looked more like a pathetic grimace).
"Really?" Kitty Pryde squeaked in her giddiness. "I'm so going to like research and YouTube and stuff! We are going to rock this tryout! Wooooohoooo!" She jabbed her fists in the air, jubilance oozing from her pores.
Rogue sighed. This very well might kill her, but it was the happiest her friend had been in weeks. She'd suffer a little bit if it meant her roommate would stop moping about with boxes of cheap chocolates and fuzzy slippers her one time lover gave her. What am Ah doin' with mah life? She looked out the window, with hopes of sneaking a glimpse at Remy. The attractively arrogant card shark waved at her, a grin smothered his face.
Rogue started to smile, then thought better of it. She glared through the glass, then sauntered away, hoping he was still watching.
"Cajun," She murmured into the open corridor, a smirk settled over her pale face. She rolled her emerald eyes, contemplating her agreement with Kitty, and rising interest in the trouble maker from Louisiana.
Rogue stalked into her room: this, the two of them, this could be the death of her.
