She shuffled on light feet toward the living room, and noted with amusement the bored, listless boy slouched on the sofa, watching the verbal exchange on TV with about as much interest as if he were viewing a documentary on the history of golf.
"I can't believe you watch that kind of stuff," she spoke up, hiding the smirk from her face but not from her voice. Kurt Wagner barely batted an eye in her direction.
"Yeah, well the only thing that's on TV in the morning is soap operas, and it came down to either this or Sesame Street," the German mutant muttered defensively, and she had to wonder whether he might be blushing underneath that thin, silky coat of blue fur.
"It sucks that my hologram inducer frizzed out on me again," Kurt grumbled, while on the TV screen the redhead slapped her soon-to-be-ex-husband hard enough to leave a two-week red mark on the poor man's face.
"It's better than being forced to stay home because you've got a cold," the girl offscreen spoke up, thankfully finding it unnecessary to slap her male companion for any reason. She plopped down on the couch next to Kurt, and asked lightly, "So, do you get any of these storylines?"
"Not at all," came the prompt response. Smiling slightly, she began to explain the intricate plot of the soap opera.
"Well, you see, Matt and Lila are married and have a baby coming up, but Matt's brother Chris is secretly in love with Lila, so he's plotting to tear them apart. And to do that, he spreads a nasty little rumor that Matt's been cheating on Lila with a fitness model named Trish, and the scene you're witnessing here is the big argument between Lila and Matt," she began.
"Uh huh," Kurt nodded absently. Just then, a pretty brunette appeared on the TV screen. "Who's that?"
"That's Stephanie, the richest woman in town. She hates Chris because she secretly loves him, but he only cares about Lila, and Stephanie can't date Chris anyway because she's already married to a Frenchman named Jean-Claude," she explained.
"Uh huh, who's that?" Kurt asked, sitting up straighter as a tanned, California beach girl-type blonde made her dramatic entrance.
"That's Torrie, Lila's sister and best friend," she said. Swallowing hard, she added, "She's secretly in love with Matt, but she can't admit it because she doesn't want to tear a perfect relationship apart."
Her voice cracked on the last part of her sentence, before Kurt remarked, "Heh, you sure know a lot about these soaps. Since when did you start watching, anyway?"
"Since three weeks ago," she admitted, while inwardly she added, Around the same time I realized I had feelings for Lance. Her face was flaming red by then, and she was glad that Kurt couldn't read minds, as she stumbled up and stammered lamely, "I just remembered something I have to do. Got to go!"
Kurt gave her a weird look as she half-tottered, half-scrambled out of the room.
"Women," he sighed.
She
fumbled with her locker, wondering how she could have forgotten her combination
number after a mere three-day absence.
"Ugh!
Open up!" she mumbled, and in a rare display of temper, slammed a fist
against the locker.
"Having
trouble with your locker, Princess?" an all too familiar voice spoke up,
surprisingly close behind her, as in the back of her mind she realized
that Lance had been a lot friendlier to all the X-Men ever since the disastrous
attempt to recruit him a while back. Perhaps his relationship with Kitty
was closer than they'd all thought, she realized with growing despair,
before silently chastising herself for behaving like this and focusing
her mind on the present. Whirling around, she found herself face-to-face
with none other than Lance Alvers. As she had expected. What she hadn't
been prepared for was being this close to him, and she stumbled back a
few steps after having locked eyes with him for a few seconds.
"Um...I
can handle it," she mumbled, as she desperately searched her mind for something
to think of other than how beautiful his eyes were. Gee, I wonder why
he has to call me Princess, she wondered absently in the back of her
mind, while carefully avoiding eye contact with him. Shrugging to herself,
she muttered under her breath, "Guess it's better than Britney-clone."
He raised an eyebrow.
"You
say something?" The tone of his voice was casually curious, and she quickly
mumbled that she hadn't said a word.
"You
can go, now, I--I'll be all right." She cleared her throat, and concentrated
on her locker combination.
"Whatever
you say, Princess," Lance replied lazily. "But before I go, let me at least
help you with that. Kitty would appreciate it."
And before she could say anything, he'd reached
over, gently motioning for her to get out of the way.
"Here
Princess, hold these, won't ya?" Lance muttered absently, plopping his
notebook and history textbook into her arms, before beginning to twist
the dial, a light frown of concentration darkening his features. She quickly
stumbled out of the way, watching him work, and her mouth dropped open
in amazement as, after a few seconds, there was a metallic clicking sound
and her locker door popped open.
"Ta
da." Lance took an exaggerated bow, and she nearly succeeded in holding
back a giggle at his showboating.
"Amazing,"
she murmured, as she inched closer, his books still in her hands. "How'd
you learn my locker combination, though?"
A guilty smile crossed his features, as he coughed
and mumbled something incomprehensible.
"What?"
"Erm...it's
a nifty little trick I learned from Pietro while he was raiding Evans's
locker, 'kay?" Lance finally admitted. "Now give me back my stuff, I've
done my good deed for the day."
"Okay,
okay, fine," she muttered, but as she reached to hand over his books, the
motorcycle magazine piled on top fell to the ground, and as she bent down
to pick it up she noticed two stubs sticking out of the top.
"Hey,
what's that?" She reached over and plucked them out of the magazine, as
a panicked expression suddenly surfaced on Lance's usually smug features.
"Don't
look at that!" he ordered, as he tried to pull them back. She swiftly stepped
out of his way, and held the pieces of paper closer to examine them.
"Hmm...concert
tickets," she murmured thoughtfully, while using one arm to block Lance's
desperate attempts to snatch them back.
"I'm
doomed," Lance mumbled, as he squeezed his eyes tightly closed.
"Concert
tickets..." her voice trailed off as she examined the tickets closer. "...for
Backstreet Boys?!"
Her voice rose several octaves on the last part
of her sentence, as she turned to fix almost accusing eyes on Lance.
"Um,
well, you see, these are for my little sister, and it's none of your business
anyway, you're a lousy X-Geek pal of Kitty's, now give them back to
me!" Lance made one last desperate attempt to grab the tickets back,
but his 'Princess' succeeded in keeping them out of reach.
"Lance,
you don't even have a sister," she reminded him. He continued to struggle
playfully with her for the tickets, before finally giving up, throwing
his hands in the air in defeat.
"All
right, all right, I'll come clean," Lance grumbled, to the point of nearly
pouting. "I was hoping to surprise Kitty with these as a late New Year's
present."
"Oh."
An unexpected flash of jealousy shot through her, breaking through the
cloud of giddy happiness that she'd experienced from this playful flirtation
with Lance.
"Oh."
Her voice had quieted considerably, and an awkward silence passed between
them. Lance cleared his throat, as if somehow sensing that something had
gone wrong. And then...
"Now
give them back!" he yelled, as he attempted a surprise ambush. He'd nearly
succeeded in wrestling them away from her before she regained her senses
and quickly darted out of the way.
"No!"
she giggled, as he chased her for his tickets.
"This
is getting silly, Princess!" Lance huffed. "If one of the guys sees me
fooling around like this with an X-Geek, I'll never hear the end of it!"
"Which
reminds me, how much do you think they'll pay for proof of your romantic
BSB concert night with Kitty?" she teased, as an expression of horror crossed
Lance's face.
"You
wouldn't!" he gasped, and the very threat of such a thing happening seemed
to renew his enthusiasm for regaining the tickets.
He'd
backed her, giggling, into a corner, and was playing tug of war for his
tickets, when a distinctive feminine voice spoke up jokingly.
"My,
isn't this friendly."
Both of them turned around, to see Kitty Pryde
standing in the nearly deserted hallway. Lance quickly backed away from
the corner, and both seemed to notice that Kitty's smile was a bit too
bright, her voice a bit too cheerful. Lance cleared his throat awkwardly,
running a hand through his dark hair, before mumbling, "Um, Kitty. Hi.
Didn't see you there."
Kitty simply stood there, her overly cheerful
smile plastered on her face, as Lance struggled to come up with an excuse.
"I
was just, um, I was just..." he stammered nervously.
"He
was just going to get back these tickets for a Backstreet Boys concert,"
the firm, surprisingly neutrally-spoken sentence startled both Kitty and
Lance, and the two turned to stare at the third party, who broke into a
strained smile.
"Here."
She handed the items over to the only male in the group. "Why don't you
tell Kitty about how these were supposed to be a late New Year's present?"
"Um,
yeah," Lance mumbled. "I nearly caught hypothermia from camping out overnight
for these suckers, but I got 'em."
Kitty broke into a genuine smile.
"You
mean you did this for me?" she squealed happily. "Aw, that's so sweet of
you. I heard the concert sold out in, like, half an hour!"
"Well,
they're not the best of tickets, I mean, you have to understand, we're
kind of broke in the Brotherhood house," Lance stammered.
Kitty smiled sweetly.
"That
doesn't matter," she said. "I mean, wow, I'm finally going to see the Backstreet
Boys in concert! You're the best!"
And she reached up and impulsively hugged him.
The two walked off for their chemistry class, Kitty chattering happily,
Lance grinning from ear to ear. She could only gaze enviously at the happy
couple, before sighing and reaching into her locker, pulling out her math
book and slamming the door shut with a little more force than needed.
"Remember,"
she murmured to herself as she headed off to class. "No emotion is worth
sacrificing a friend over, no crush is worth destroying a perfect relationship."
The exact same words that Torrie had recited,
on the soap opera that she'd begun watching approximately three weeks earlier.
Heh, well, there ya go, Chapter Two of my pitiful attempt at a romance fic. And I know the mystery girl's identity is still a secret, 'cause as of right now, even I have no clue as to who I want her to be. So, every girl's still in the running, and I'm beginning to realize that there's really not a lot of choices. Hmm, maybe I should retract that hint about it not being Tabitha since she's a Brotherhood gal. I can always work out a storyline where she ditches them for the X-Men (c'mon, we all know she's gonna return one of these days)...*runs off thinking over possible candidate for mystery girl*
