One of the boys spilled milk all over the table, which dripped over the side, onto the floor, ruining Kitty Pryde's magnificent "up through the floor" entrance. "Sammy! You better bullet yourself out of here before I catch you! Oh no, my shoes! You're dead, boy!"
I grinned a toothy grin from the corner. I had slept well, again. Blue tail and all.
"Kitty, if you want to find the grace of the universe, you must not get so angry about the little things."
"I'm sorry, Kurt, but you're new shoes did not just get ruined!"
"I would hope not, since I have not seen any shoes that would fit me." Kurt Wagner walked out of the room then. In the Munich circus, good timing was the first lesson learned.
It had been four days since Logan and Rogue took off, leaving to search for any thing left at Alkali Lake. The younger students, the ones controlled by their teenage hormones, had the right idea about the underlying reasons of why they left. The older ones here, the members of the team, like Scott and Bobby, were in a state of denial. Those like Scott are saying that they are doing necessary recon; a just in case scenario. Those like Bobby, swear that Marie has better taste then a scoundrel like that. I have learned not to tell the "it takes a rogue to love a rogue" joke in front of him. My poor tail.
I have never felt more normal in my entire life. I have been not quite regularly sharing a bed, with nothing sinful happening, of course. Maybe I will ask her to marry me one day.
She tells me I should be on Broadway, singing in a cabaret. I tell her that has been bumped up on my to-do list, as the number one on the list was met in church, so to speak. Her ears go pink when say that. With her head on my lap, I sing her to sleep, just with a variation on the most beautiful word I have learned: Ororo. A new opera every night. The name flows off my tongue like sweet honey.
I teach her faith and trust. She shows me that there is nothing to be afraid of in my own person. No demon is, or has ever been, in me.
This is not much of a story, I know. There is no grief, like with Scott and Jean, or confusion, like with Logan and Rogue. We are happy, and I believe that that is the most important thing. Things do not have to always have to be tragic. Beauty is the natural way of life.
~~~~~~~X~~~~~~~
It is hard to be an outcast living in this school. Even if you happen to be falling in love with a five foot four, blue elf of a man with three digits on each hand and a tail.
It is sort of working. Nothing works all the way and I am counting the days until it falls through. Not that I want it to. I just do not think it has to do. Everything around me has the tendency to fall apart.
The way Jean and I took in sweet Kurt was how the Professor took me in. That was twenty-four years ago this June and he was able to walk then. I had two jobs: the first was being a worshipped and imprisoned by an African tribe and working as a thief for food and clothes by night. Goddesses do not need food, or water, or a change of clothes, so I starved. All they needed me to do was to serve and create rain. The Professor found me when I flooded the capital after being arrested, drowning many and throwing the city into panic. It was a short way from Jerusalem, where he was working with Erik Lehnsherr. He found me; actually he led me to him, after I blew up the jailhouse. He calmed me and brought me here, showing me what we were, Erik with us all the way, whispering his "mutants are homo superior and there is a war coming" dogma to me. Parts of me believed it, parts of me still do. During these last few months, all of those things Erik told me seem more and more true. We need to protect ourselves, our own kind.
I know I will never leave the Professor or the mansion; I keep my humanity here. I think something else I am keeping is here too. Something new.
I love him and he loves me. I think it is odd that the only one who can make me feel human is someone who looks and acts so inhuman. He is much more than human. I inspire him, with my white hair and my eyes that go clear when they need to be. A freak. Someone beautiful loves a freak.
But I cannot worry too much about Kurt. I know he will always be there. I have to worry about everything else here. The students are always on the verge of breakdown, crying over boyfriends, television shows. I hear it is regular high school antics. Professor Xavier is worried about acts of Congress and about his old friend making the next move. He is not concerned about Wolverine and Rogue's unofficial mission. They are doing this for Scott, but I think Logan wants to play hero to Jean. She could not have survived it, but some people need to cling on to hope. Scott is getting better, but that does not really mean anything. Jean's death hit him hard and he does not want to let go. He was safe with her; he feels alone now. In a sense, I guess, he is. I feel he will never heal.
Still, Scott has been less catatonic these past few days. Something about the note Logan and Marie left, their little quest. It gave him hope. The students giggle about it, the note, hinting about what it means. Children always want romance, love. Reality fights it at all costs. It can never happen. Even in fiction, the heroes have conqueror impossible odds to just get kiss. The frog never just falls into the princess's lap. Logan and young Marie are partners in crime, nothing more.
~~~~~~~X~~~~~~~
She is sitting there, across the room, writing in her journal. Looking up every so often, at me, at Scott who began teaching a history lesson, at Professor Xavier, at me. She is concerned; it should not have taken two of our best teammates this long to scout the area. They left with one note and have not given any word on their location or next move. Ororo does not understand it. There are set rules in this world that cannot be broken, as she sees and says it. I reply with a "Is there a breeze in here or was that just you?" or a "Don't stretch for it; let my tail grab it for you."
I know it was Marie who made the first move. Wolverine is too- well, sad to say- thick to realize what is in front of him. My Storm is too, always questioning and on guard.
Scott keeps looking out at the window. I know he is waiting for Logan and Rogue to return, with good news or any signs. I believe if they have no news and he will live and continue on. He has tasted life again and he likes it. Moving on is the way of life.
There is something that must be shown to her. But I cannot do that. We will wait until they return. Return together, that is.