Ahhhh! I've been found out! Yes, Kitty's probably going to be a little P.O.ed that Lance went for Greta, but all that will be explained in my next fic (which I was trying to keep a secret, but some secrets I just can't keep), a Kurtty (my favorite). I'm the kind of person who's obsessed with plots that twine together and crap like that, so I'm writing another fic to go alongside this one. :) I know it's really sad, but, there ya go.
I'm sorry I took so long to update, but I was a little...less than inspired to write. But I'm back! And to compensate for my lack of update, I've written you this lovely extra-long chapter. Hopefully, from now on, they'll all be *at least* this long! Enjoy!

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Chapter Eleven: Moonstruck, Past-Spelunking, & The Mushy Stuff

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Jean sniffled, wiping a tear from her eye with the last tissue. "I love that ending, don't you?" Her voice was quavering.
Greta sat stony-faced beside her on the couch, silently scolding herself for wanting to cry. It *was* a happy ending, and she *did* love it.
"I don't get it. What does that movie have to do with Kurt and Kitty?" Jean laughed.
"I forgot all about that! I'm sorry. Let me explain." She took a deep breath. (Note: for all those who haven't seen Moonstruck, too bad, I'm gonna go ahead and connect it for those who *have* seen it.) "You know when Ronnie tells Loretta he loves her?" Greta nodded. "And then she slaps him? Well, it's the same thing with Kitty and Kurt."
"What, did she slap 'im?"
"No, no," Jean said, laughing. "No, but when...when he tried to make a move on her, you know, by asking her out...well, she reacted badly and rejected his advances, just like Loretta did to Ronnie. See?" Brow furrowed, Greta nodded again. "Hmm, we can only hope that they complete the motion. Maybe Kurt will ask Kitty out and she'll accept. You never know." (Note: See? See? Kurtty Romance! You'll be seeing more of it in my other fic...if I ever get to writing it)
"But why did Kitty call Lance?" _And isn't Lance that mean kid who was buggin' us at lunch today?_
"Um, you know how Loretta slaps Ronnie in the movie? It's sort of a reflex for her, just like calling Lance is a reflex for Kitty. And, yes, Lance was the kid at lunch."
"Why is calling *him* a reflex for her?"
"Because-" Jean paused for a moment. "You know, I really don't know. She has no *reason* to *like* him, but she still enjoys his presence for some reason. I'll have to ask her about that." She paused for another few seconds. "Hey, how did you do on your homework?"
"Okay. It was easy."
"Hmm. Well," she said, standing up. "I have to go to a training session this afternoon. You want to come watch?"
"Actually, I was hoping she would come and speak with me." The girls looked up to see the Professor in the doorway.
"How do you *do* that?" Greta asked. He always seemed to come into a room at *exactly* the right time to interrupt a conversation.
That slight smile appeared on his face. "Call it a gift." He shifted his gaze to Jean. "Would you excuse us, please? Greta and I have important matters to discuss."
"Sure, Professor." The telepath went off to change into her uniform. Once she had left, and closed the door behind her, Xavier wheeled over the carpet until he was facing Greta, still seated on the couch.
"Greta," he began...

***

Evan tore down the hallway, racing for his room, although he wasn't entirely sure *why* he was doing it. But when he reached the door to Kitty and Rogue's room, he stopped abruptly (you could almost hear his sneakers squealing on the carpet). Leaning in, he could hear Kitty talking to (who else?) Lance over her phone. Somehow, she didn't sound quite as perky as she usually did. God only knew where Rogue was...
Somewhat tentatively, as he had *never* done anything like this before, Evan knocked on the door. Kitty's speech stopped short.
"Lance, can you hold on a sec'? No, for just a second. Listen, just hold on! You can complain about Toad's stench in a minute! Lance, I'm - I'm going to - oh, shut up, Lance." There was the harsh click of a phone being slammed into a receiver. "Like, who's there?"
Evan was starting to regret the *thought*, now..."Uh. It's me. Uh, Evan." Kitty opened the door and hung on the doorframe, tapping her toe (Note: Does anyone ever tap their toe besides me? No? Oh, well.) in her impatience.
"Evan? Like, what do *you* want?"
"Uh...I...uh..."
"Spit it out!"
"Uh, have you seen Greta?" Kitty rolled her eyes.
"No, I have, like, no idea where your girlfriend is, Evan. Now can you please stop stuttering and get out of my face?"
"Hey, she's not my girlfriend!" Evan squeaked. "I mean, I don't *like* her or anything! She's just a-" Kitty slammed the door in his face. "Hey, do you know if Kurt's in?" he yelled through the door.
"How should *I* know?!" Boy, did she sound pissed.
_Maybe she's P.M.S.ing or something,_ Evan thought as he wandered over to Kurt's door. He knocked softly, as their seemed to be total silence in the room. _He's probably not in, it's so quiet._
There was a horribly depressed-sounding "Come in" from behind the door. With some trepidation, Evan opened the door slowly and stepped inside, closing the door behind him. As soon as it clicked shut, he was blind. For some reason, all the lights were off.
"Hey, Kurt?"
"Hier."
_Man, I gotta get outta here. This is *way* too much depression for *me*._ "Have you seen Greta?" _Uh-oh, maybe I better ask him what's got him down..._
Groan. "Why don't you just ask her out, man?" A pause. "Not that *that* has much effect."
"You asked her out?!" Evan's hands balled into fists.
Another groan. "No, *dummkopf.* But I won't bother you with my problems right now. It's obvious you're not *interested.*" There was a rustle as he turned over on the bed. "I thought I heard her and Jean talking about the Moonstruck Effect. I think they went to watch it. But that was over an hour ago," he mumbled into his blanket.
"They went to watch the Moonstruck Effect?" Kurt groaned loudly. "Ohhh. Thanks, Kurt!" Evan beat it like there wasn't a tomorrow (Note: Does that make sense? Well, I like it).

***

"Greta, when you first came here, I asked you about your past. Do you remember?" Immediately, Greta tensed up. Her hand shot to her pocket, where she could feel her card - still there. How could he ask her now? She thought that the Professor had let it drop...but here it was again. Her past.
"I don't want to talk about it," she said coldly, then realized that she sounded exactly like the movie she had just watched.
"We must get these things out in the open, Greta," he said, steepling his hands in front of his face. "It's not healthy to just let them lie."
"I don't want to *talk* about it," Greta said, more fiercely this time.
_Greta, I only want to help you. Will it hurt you to talk about these things?_ Greta opened her mouth to repeat what she had said previously, but then she snapped her jaw closed. *Would* it hurt? She really didn't know *why* she kept these things a secret from her friends. On the streets, it was to avoid harrassment, but here...why couldn't she tell them?
"I..." she stopped at the sound of her own voice. The room seemed so empty now. It seemed like the Professor was the only person around for *miles*. She cleared her throat uncomfortably. "I don't know anything about my past."
The Professor sat back in his chair. "You must know *something*. What's the farthest back you can remember?" He didn't seem surprised that she was sharing this information at all. He simply wanted to know more. To help her.
"M - my name..." she trailed off, thinking hard.
"Yes?" he prompted, patient as always.
"I didn't know for sure how old I was, but somebody asked me my name. And I didn't know. Didn't know my own name...so I named m'self. And they laughed at me. They called me a dog..." She fell silent, and held back the tears. How could she open up so quickly? And with so painful a memory? _Maybe it's 'cause you *trust* him, stupid._
"You were seven or eight, weren't you?" Brow creased, she nodded to the wall. She heard him lean forward once more. "You can tell me, Greta. I'm here for you. It's alright to cry." Haltingly, she went through her life, at least the events she remembered. She explained about the business card, and surprised herself when she took it out to show him. She told him everything, but she didn't cry as he had suggested. It wasn't worth crying about. It was the past.
"But it doesn't matter anymore," she finished. "It isn't happenin' now, so it doesn't matter."
"On the contrary. I think it matters very much." She just bit her lip. "Greta, with your permission, I'd like to do some more...research on your past. I'd like to find out what happened to you to leave you on the streets that way. Will you permit me?" Dipping her gaze to the floor, Greta nodded silently. "Alright. I'm very glad we had this talk, Greta. I think it did you a great deal of good." For once seeming a little unsure of himself, Xavier reached out and put his hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him in surprise, and felt a small smile tugging at her lips. She stood up to go, turning her back on him as she grew closer to the door.
Hesitantly, she turned around and looked at him again. "Thanks, Professor." He nodded, and she turned towards the door again.
"Oh, and Greta?" Puzzled, she turned. "Would you like to be a member of our team? Would you like to be an X-Man?"
Greta smiled. "Sure."

***

Evan paced in his room, back and forth, covering the area quickly. With an annoyed look, he sat down on his bed. Suddenly determined, he stood up and headed for the door. One pace outside, however, he turned around and walked back to the bed again. He sank down on it, only to get back up and pace again. Once again, he sat down on the bed, and once again he stood up with that determined look. This time he only got halfway to the door before turning back. He repeated this process a few times before pounding his pillow in frustration.
"Kurt's right. I should just - I should just *do* something. Ask her out, *something*." He paused. "Who am I *talking* to?!" He hit his pillow, then stood up with that determined look again. "That's it. I'm gonna go watch that movie with her." He made it to the doorframe, but then turned back immediately when he saw Greta walking down the hallway, looking tired. He flinched to himself with each step she made as she walked into her room and closed the door softly. Slumping against the wall, Evan said, "Well. That's out." With a growl, he pounced on his homework, determined to get his mind off Greta once and for all.
After all, he had already wasted an hour and a half of his afternoon. Thinking about her was getting him nowhere. He'd just have to impress her with something. Maybe his skateboarding skills?
"Argghh!" _There I go again! Alright, genius, you want to impress her so bad? Try impressing her with your good grades._ Evan sat down and spent the next hour debating internally, staring at his English homework all the while.

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Ta-da! Okay, I apologize for all the mushiness about Greta's past, but I had to get it down *somehow*. Heh-heh.
Please tell me what you thought of this chapter. Inspire me to write more! Please! Otherwise I'll just wind up sitting on my story idea again. :D
Review!
:)