"I never had a friend like you
Your skin is white,
Your eyes are blue.
But the wind might change.
I will still remain,
I will always be there for you.
These thoughts, they circle in my mind
The demons I can't leave behind…"
Stupid poetry. I crumpled up the agonizing lines and threw it at my waste paper basket; they weren't going to be used anytime soon.
No matter how hard I try, it seems I can never get it. Never get the words to come out the way I need them, the way that I want them to pour out of my mouth. They always seem to get lost in there, or for this time, lost in the inky depths of my pen. Why is it so hard to take what's in my inner soul and express it to the one person whom it was meant for. Why can I not just walk up to her, take her silken hand in mine, and look into her clear azure eyes and tell her what I have wanted to say for so long?
Beautiful lines or nothing, just getting up the courage to talk to her and to tell her how I feel…
"Actions speak louder then words" they say, but no matter how many times I show her, I always seem to watch her say goodbye and leap into Duncan's arms.
Jerk.
My fists are clenched and I could almost hear Storm telling me that I have to watch my temper.
Breathe
In … 1-2-3-4-5-
Out… 6-7-…
Before I could get to the last numbers, the professor called to me. "Scott, I need to see you in my study, please."
"On my way Professor."
Before I left my room, I looked back over my shoulder at the huge pile of crumpled attempts… I suppose hitting my head would not be appropriate?
* * *
"Scott is has come to my attention" he began as I made myself comfortable in the waiting chair, " that most of the students, are, shall we say lacking."
"Well sir," I presented my case, " I am impressed with how hard they are training. And Logan has not been complaining over his normal standards on the training either. I do not think we can work them any more. Not with exams being next week and all."
He gave me one of his half smiles, and just shook his head. "No Scott, that's not what I meant. What I'm trying to get at is, that… Let me see if I can explain this better. Ahh, yes. You see Scott this is a large mansion, and I try not to spoil the recruits."
I am secretly glad that I have my ruby shades on.
It is true that we do have some better lives then other teens, and other mutants for that matter. But we certainly are not spoiled. Not with all we have to go through. I let him continue with out objecting out loud.
"Scott, the house doesn't clean itself, and I have found some students shrimping off on their chores." He must have seen my quizzical look because he continued. "Scott, as the leader, I think you should do an extra chore, one that isn't exactly loved either. Scott I need to clean the bathrooms."
At first, this assignment was fine by me. This is the job of a good leader, to set the example and forge ahead, to get his hands dirty. For no one will follow a guy that could not do what he expected his people to.
But the bathrooms were not exactly what I had in mind, maybe cleaning up the danger room, or the dusting of the light fixtures in the main hallway. Even vacuuming the numerous amounts of stairs.
Of course, this is what I projected on the inside, on the outside I swallowed my pride. I called something over my shoulder as I left to get my cleaning supplies.
That is the problem with being the leader. Do not get me wrong, I love being the leader. The joy of seeing someone grows into themselves, from one scared shy person who is afraid of moving, to a confident young adult. It is those little moments when braving the insults or hate glares from the extra practices, make it all worth while.
Jean heard the insults one-day, and must have read my thoughts, for she then asked why I put up with it all. Why I have to put up with planning, and arranging, and being bright and optimistic in bad situations, why I push myself to be the "role model". The first thought that came to me was that I am very competitive.
I never get to live this experience out in sports, like Jean. So I have to release this competitive nature some how. And I do get to in some ways.
Because I enjoy the little battles with the brotherhood more then I let on. I enjoy the thrill of the win just as much as the next guy, I enjoy teachers announcing to the class that I, Scott Summers, got the highest grade, and I enjoy the slight bend in destiny and fate.
Having those two supreme deities of our lives letting me get something in my favor is worth a lot to me. Lord knows that I have been chewed up and spit out by them more often enough…
And I believe that's another reason why I like being the leader. The control. Not exactly the control over my fellow teammates, I am not that power mad, but the control over what is or would be happening. I do not think I could stand another person leading me to battle or whatnot. They might do it wrong. I rather take the control of my own life for once.
Being the leader, is something that I can look forward to. Something that I can claim is mine. That would not be taken away from me, that would not be shoved in my face then brutally taken away, something that I am finally allowed to do despite being what I am.
By this time I have gotten my supplies and have reached my destination
The bathrooms
I filled up the sink with warm water, and began to uncap the bottle of pine sal, before I could really get down and dirty with the soap scum and nasty dried toothpaste marks, my secret little cleaning spree was out.
"Man, the Prof. has YOU cleaning the bathrooms?!?" Evan's face peered in to the room while I held a sponge in one hand and the toilet brush in the other.
"Yeah Daniles, I am cleaning the bathroom. Oh but don't worry, I am sure that the Professor could find you something to do as well."
I added to my first comments, "After all, look what happened to Bobby." A good thing about glasses is that if you cock your eyebrow up a bit, it gives the effect of jeering. After living with them for a couple of years, I have learned slight tricks like that.
And of course it added to my slight threat, making Evan's panicked expression that much lovelier.
The pure and utter terror that comes when the word chore is spoken to a teenager is wonderfully funny. I had to chuckle under my breath as the skater mumbled something about a session with Logan and left posthaste.
And so I was left again with my sponge, my thoughts, and the challenge before me.
Once a person gets over the stomach queasiness, and gets there own rhythm to the scrubbing, its becomes easy. One should just set up a plan of attack and follow through. For example, after filling the sink up with the pine sal one should clean all the places that needs it, the mirror, the porcelain counter top (after removing the hair brushes, hair supplies, and other teenager girl necessities) the porcelain toilet edgings, and top it all off with scrubbing the soap scum on the shower. Simple really.
But after a while, I began to get bored, so I started humming a few bars of a new BNL song I heard,
"He's branded like a racing car,
He's like a movie star without moviieeesss.
The week of Independence Day,
The casting agent called to say,
Your smile could save our movie and the world
Buy buy buy buy
Sell sell sell
How well you learn
To not discern
Who's foe and who's friend"
But before I could get to the last lines of the chorus, a slight giggle brought me out of my cleaning spurge. Looking behind, I saw three girls starring back at me. Amara, Kitty,
And Jean
Her delicate hand slightly covered her perfect lips. And her blue eyes twinkled as they watched my solo performance.
This is the time when I really hate being tongue tied around her, the parts that really matter. Instead of being witty and incredibly interesting, I wait for her to make the first move.
"Gee Scott, leading, cleaning and singing. Is there anything you can't do?"
I wanted to sweep her up in my arms and just whisper some good romantic lines, but I could not. I could not just come out and say what was in my heart, and I really could not just think about it either, so I just smiled
"I can't clean the windows, so if you ladies were not busy…"
They just laughed and left.
And that's something I also cannot control.
A.N. Well that was Scott's. Also I don't own x-men and probably won't ever. Also the first poem/song is owned by The Cranberries it's called "This is the Day" from their CD called Wake Up and Smell the Coffee. And the last song was from Bare Naked Ladies, its called "Sell Sell Sell", from there CD called Maroon.
Your skin is white,
Your eyes are blue.
But the wind might change.
I will still remain,
I will always be there for you.
These thoughts, they circle in my mind
The demons I can't leave behind…"
Stupid poetry. I crumpled up the agonizing lines and threw it at my waste paper basket; they weren't going to be used anytime soon.
No matter how hard I try, it seems I can never get it. Never get the words to come out the way I need them, the way that I want them to pour out of my mouth. They always seem to get lost in there, or for this time, lost in the inky depths of my pen. Why is it so hard to take what's in my inner soul and express it to the one person whom it was meant for. Why can I not just walk up to her, take her silken hand in mine, and look into her clear azure eyes and tell her what I have wanted to say for so long?
Beautiful lines or nothing, just getting up the courage to talk to her and to tell her how I feel…
"Actions speak louder then words" they say, but no matter how many times I show her, I always seem to watch her say goodbye and leap into Duncan's arms.
Jerk.
My fists are clenched and I could almost hear Storm telling me that I have to watch my temper.
Breathe
In … 1-2-3-4-5-
Out… 6-7-…
Before I could get to the last numbers, the professor called to me. "Scott, I need to see you in my study, please."
"On my way Professor."
Before I left my room, I looked back over my shoulder at the huge pile of crumpled attempts… I suppose hitting my head would not be appropriate?
* * *
"Scott is has come to my attention" he began as I made myself comfortable in the waiting chair, " that most of the students, are, shall we say lacking."
"Well sir," I presented my case, " I am impressed with how hard they are training. And Logan has not been complaining over his normal standards on the training either. I do not think we can work them any more. Not with exams being next week and all."
He gave me one of his half smiles, and just shook his head. "No Scott, that's not what I meant. What I'm trying to get at is, that… Let me see if I can explain this better. Ahh, yes. You see Scott this is a large mansion, and I try not to spoil the recruits."
I am secretly glad that I have my ruby shades on.
It is true that we do have some better lives then other teens, and other mutants for that matter. But we certainly are not spoiled. Not with all we have to go through. I let him continue with out objecting out loud.
"Scott, the house doesn't clean itself, and I have found some students shrimping off on their chores." He must have seen my quizzical look because he continued. "Scott, as the leader, I think you should do an extra chore, one that isn't exactly loved either. Scott I need to clean the bathrooms."
At first, this assignment was fine by me. This is the job of a good leader, to set the example and forge ahead, to get his hands dirty. For no one will follow a guy that could not do what he expected his people to.
But the bathrooms were not exactly what I had in mind, maybe cleaning up the danger room, or the dusting of the light fixtures in the main hallway. Even vacuuming the numerous amounts of stairs.
Of course, this is what I projected on the inside, on the outside I swallowed my pride. I called something over my shoulder as I left to get my cleaning supplies.
That is the problem with being the leader. Do not get me wrong, I love being the leader. The joy of seeing someone grows into themselves, from one scared shy person who is afraid of moving, to a confident young adult. It is those little moments when braving the insults or hate glares from the extra practices, make it all worth while.
Jean heard the insults one-day, and must have read my thoughts, for she then asked why I put up with it all. Why I have to put up with planning, and arranging, and being bright and optimistic in bad situations, why I push myself to be the "role model". The first thought that came to me was that I am very competitive.
I never get to live this experience out in sports, like Jean. So I have to release this competitive nature some how. And I do get to in some ways.
Because I enjoy the little battles with the brotherhood more then I let on. I enjoy the thrill of the win just as much as the next guy, I enjoy teachers announcing to the class that I, Scott Summers, got the highest grade, and I enjoy the slight bend in destiny and fate.
Having those two supreme deities of our lives letting me get something in my favor is worth a lot to me. Lord knows that I have been chewed up and spit out by them more often enough…
And I believe that's another reason why I like being the leader. The control. Not exactly the control over my fellow teammates, I am not that power mad, but the control over what is or would be happening. I do not think I could stand another person leading me to battle or whatnot. They might do it wrong. I rather take the control of my own life for once.
Being the leader, is something that I can look forward to. Something that I can claim is mine. That would not be taken away from me, that would not be shoved in my face then brutally taken away, something that I am finally allowed to do despite being what I am.
By this time I have gotten my supplies and have reached my destination
The bathrooms
I filled up the sink with warm water, and began to uncap the bottle of pine sal, before I could really get down and dirty with the soap scum and nasty dried toothpaste marks, my secret little cleaning spree was out.
"Man, the Prof. has YOU cleaning the bathrooms?!?" Evan's face peered in to the room while I held a sponge in one hand and the toilet brush in the other.
"Yeah Daniles, I am cleaning the bathroom. Oh but don't worry, I am sure that the Professor could find you something to do as well."
I added to my first comments, "After all, look what happened to Bobby." A good thing about glasses is that if you cock your eyebrow up a bit, it gives the effect of jeering. After living with them for a couple of years, I have learned slight tricks like that.
And of course it added to my slight threat, making Evan's panicked expression that much lovelier.
The pure and utter terror that comes when the word chore is spoken to a teenager is wonderfully funny. I had to chuckle under my breath as the skater mumbled something about a session with Logan and left posthaste.
And so I was left again with my sponge, my thoughts, and the challenge before me.
Once a person gets over the stomach queasiness, and gets there own rhythm to the scrubbing, its becomes easy. One should just set up a plan of attack and follow through. For example, after filling the sink up with the pine sal one should clean all the places that needs it, the mirror, the porcelain counter top (after removing the hair brushes, hair supplies, and other teenager girl necessities) the porcelain toilet edgings, and top it all off with scrubbing the soap scum on the shower. Simple really.
But after a while, I began to get bored, so I started humming a few bars of a new BNL song I heard,
"He's branded like a racing car,
He's like a movie star without moviieeesss.
The week of Independence Day,
The casting agent called to say,
Your smile could save our movie and the world
Buy buy buy buy
Sell sell sell
How well you learn
To not discern
Who's foe and who's friend"
But before I could get to the last lines of the chorus, a slight giggle brought me out of my cleaning spurge. Looking behind, I saw three girls starring back at me. Amara, Kitty,
And Jean
Her delicate hand slightly covered her perfect lips. And her blue eyes twinkled as they watched my solo performance.
This is the time when I really hate being tongue tied around her, the parts that really matter. Instead of being witty and incredibly interesting, I wait for her to make the first move.
"Gee Scott, leading, cleaning and singing. Is there anything you can't do?"
I wanted to sweep her up in my arms and just whisper some good romantic lines, but I could not. I could not just come out and say what was in my heart, and I really could not just think about it either, so I just smiled
"I can't clean the windows, so if you ladies were not busy…"
They just laughed and left.
And that's something I also cannot control.
A.N. Well that was Scott's. Also I don't own x-men and probably won't ever. Also the first poem/song is owned by The Cranberries it's called "This is the Day" from their CD called Wake Up and Smell the Coffee. And the last song was from Bare Naked Ladies, its called "Sell Sell Sell", from there CD called Maroon.