The time was almost near for classes to end for the summer. The upperclassmen were getting a severe case of "senioritis". They were counting down the days to graduation. The teachers were sympathetic, especially Jean and Hank, who remembered their own experiences in school.

Graduation was set for June 21st. The day before, which was a Friday, were finals. The mansion was eerily silent, as the students took their final exams. At precisely three o'clock, the halls erupted with shouts. Someone, probably Kitty, had hacked the intercoms throughout the mansion to play "School's Out" by Alice Cooper.

There was an impromptu party that night in the den for the seniors. It was a small graduating class, but they made a big fuss. Linda made them a cake, cookies, and punch, and they settled down in the den for an all-night movie marathon. Storm had warned them that the graduation ceremony was at nine a.m. the next morning, but they didn't seem to really care. The younger students and teachers made themselves scarce, especially Logan, who hadn't been seen or heard from for a day and a half. This was smart, since the only kid brave enough to intrude on the party was pelted with snow, popcorn and pillows.

At nine the next morning, all the students filed out to the garden, where rows of chairs had been set up before a small stage. There weren't many family members in the crowd, just Marie's parents (whom she had recently made up with), Kitty's parents, and Peter's younger sister Illiyana, who was also a student at the school. Bobby's parents were not there; they hadn't spoken to him since he told them he was a mutant. Jubilee was an orphan, and Theresa's parents were abroad.

The graduates all looked tired, but in good spirits. Storm gave a speech, as did each other teacher. Then, one by one, the seniors went up to receive their diplomas.

"Marie D'Canto…"

"Robert Drake…"

"Jubilation Lee…"

"Katherine Pryde…"

"Peter Rasputin…"

"Theresa Rourke…"

As they all stood there on stage, Marie happened to look up towards the mansion. There, standing on a balcony, was Logan. He nodded to her, and then walked back into the house. Marie was glad that he came, even if he wasn't in the audience. It just wasn't his way.

The ceremony was followed by a reception in the ballroom. Great big tables had been set up on either side with tons of food and drink. Interspersed around the room were tables and chairs to sit and mingle, and a dance floor and d.j. sat at the far end of the room. This was more of a parent's party.

Jean was bored out of her skull. She was every year at these things, but this was even worse because Scott wasn't here to joke with her telepathically, and the Professor wasn't here to entertain the parents and make the party seem less stiff. Of course Logan wouldn't touch this party with a ten foot pole, so her only option was to stick to Storm, and make tons of small talk with parents. Currently, Storm was chatting with Warren Worthington Jr., Angel's father. Warren, codenamed Angel, had already graduated when he came to Xavier's, but he liked to be around other mutants so they let him stay on. His father had become a major benefactor, so he came to their functions. This meant only one thing: butt-kissing. Jean hated it. Not to mention that he still looked at her skeptically, even though it had been explained to him that she was no longer the Phoenix, and was no danger.

Jean was spacing out, not listening to Storm and Mr. Worthington's conversation, when the d.j. started playing an interesting song. It was kind of slow, so several couples started slow-dancing. She, however, was listening to the words.

Squint your eyes and look closer,

I'm not between you and your ambition.

I am a poster-girl with no poster;

I am thirty-two flavors and then some.

And I'm beyond your peripheral vision,

So you might want to turn your head.

'Cause someday you are going to get hungry,

And eat most of the words you just said.

"Isn't that right, Jean?" said Storm. Jean jumped a little, but made a vague affirmative sound and nodded her head, before going back to listen to the song.

God help you if you are an ugly girl,

Course too pretty is also your doom,

'Cause everyone harbors a secret hatred

For the prettiest girl in the room.

And God help you if you are a phoenix,

And you dare to rise up from the ash.

A thousand eyes will smolder with jealousy

As you are just flying past.

Jean was beginning to think this song hit a little too close to home. She politely excused herself and went out into the hall under pretense of going to the ladies room. She rounded the corner and ran into Logan.

"Oh! Logan, I'm sorry, I-" she stumbled.

"No problem, Red. Don't blame you for wantin' to ditch that snooze-fest at warp speed." He looked around her back through the door to the ballroom. "Looks like a wake in there."

Jean fully agreed, but she had to be professional about it. The formal receptions were, if not mandatory, at least expected; especially at a respected east-coast boarding school like this one. Plus, she just couldn't give Logan the satisfaction of agreeing with him. That wasn't how their game was played.

"It's traditional." She replied. "We've thrown the same graduation celebration at Xavier's ever since it was just the first four of us: me, Storm, Scott and Hank…" She remembered that first party. It was much smaller: Charles, herself and the other three students, Hank's parents and her parents and her sister Sarah. The parents and Charles had had much to talk about. Her father was a college professor, and Hank's father was a nuclear scientist. None of the kids followed their conversations, except maybe Hank. She remembered it fondly. No time after that had ever been as happy.

Logan sensed Jean was lost in some memory, but he gently tugged her back to reality by putting a hand on her shoulder. She jumped, startled, and then laughed.

"Sorry, just thinking about how things used to be." She sighed.

"They aren't too bad now, are they?" he challenged. She searched his expression, wondering what he really meant by that. Finally, she shrugged.

Just then, a giggling girl burst through the ballroom doors, wings fluttering. In both hands she held a cupcake. When she saw Logan and Jean standing there, she froze.

"Sorry!" she squeaked. "Didn't mean to interrupt!" she nervously hovered side to side, seemingly thinking of how to get past them and up the hallway with her prizes.

"It's alright Pixie. You weren't interrupting anything…" said Jean. A look of doubt spread across the girls face, but she said nothing. "You can go on up to your room, if that's where you were heading." Jean continued. No sooner had the words come out of her mouth than the little girl was zooming by them and up the stairs. "That was odd." Jean thought out loud. Logan said nothing.

"Well, I should really get back to the party…" Jean mumbled, then turned around and marched back into the ballroom.

The rest of the evening went as planned, and was rather boring. Jean excused herself to go to bed at about eight-thirty. She had no intentions of going to bed of course, but she just couldn't stand being polite any longer. Slowly she climbed up to her room, which was still mostly full of boxes. Off came her shoes first, and then she plopped down on the bed, looking around with a sigh. She couldn't stand the boxes. Jean was a compulsively clean person, mostly because if she wasn't, she tended to always lose things. Losing things is bad when you're a doctor.

She was going to clear away the last few boxes tonight. No sooner had she made up her mind than she heard a clink on the window. She went over and opened it, narrowly missing a second pebble as she did so. Leaning over the railing, she searched the darkness.

"Wanna go for a ride?" Logan's voice drifted out from the pitch black. Jean rolled her eyes.

"It's close to nine!" she called back.

"So?" was the indignant reply from below. Jean thought about it. She had ridden on Scott's motorcycle with him a few times and it was really fun. Still, she felt bad about going out with Logan so soon after…

"Well?" Logan yelled. "You're not down here in five, I'm goin' alone!" That did it. She was going. After changing into jeans and sneakers and grabbing a jacket, Jean ran down the stairs and out towards the driveway.

When she got there, Logan was already on the motorcycle, revving it up to go. He was dressed in his typical dark jeans, a black tee shirt and dark brown leather jacket.

"Thought you weren't comin'." He said. "Grab a helmet in the garage." She didn't question why he wasn't wearing one. It was useless to argue with him, and even if he did crash and get injured, it wouldn't be permanent; it would just hurt like the dickens.

Jean put on the helmet as she walked back out to the driveway. She suddenly got nervous, standing there facing Logan on the bike. She also felt guilty still, for wanting to have fun with Logan when Scott's death was still so fresh.

"Hop on, Red." said Logan impatiently. It was right then she decided to stop worrying about it. Looking at Logan, she realized she could have something good. Scott was a good man, but not the only good man.

"Well we have all night Logan, I don't know why you're in such a rush." She teased, as she climbed on the bike behind him. The way the seat was angled pushed her hips right up against him, and as she slid her arms around his waist and under his jacket, she felt him shiver. "So where are we going?" she asked over his shoulder. He didn't answer, but instead started down the driveway, turning onto the road at the end and zooming away.

A.N. I know I totally stole this song from another fanfic, and I would credit it if I remembered which one. (oops) So please, if you know, let me know!