First off, Happy Thanksgiving! I want to give thanks for all the wonderful reviewers who are reading this story, and I'd also like to announce that I will be putting up more of "Project: Wagner" pretty soon. Famous last words, I know, but I honestly do mean it. As soon as I finish this damn research paper, I'm free and clear … until finals. :-( Oh, how I suffer for my art. *thinks* Actually, "Oh, how my art suffers for my schoolwork." Yeah, that sounds better. Enjoy!
PART FOUR: SUS
~ X ~
"Damn it!" Lance muttered. "Where the hell is she?"
"I-dunno."
"Gaah! Pietro! What are you doing here?!"
"Finished-my-homework. I-got-bored."
Lance sighed in frustration and pointed at himself. "You see this? This is me not caring. Now beat it before I rock you."
"Whooo! Touchy!"
"Get lost, you moron! I have a date with Kitty!"
Pietro looked around. Lance was well-dressed, and sitting by himself at a small table outside The Deli, a little eatery in downtown Bayville. Kitty, who should have been there a half an hour ago, was nowhere to be seen. Pietro put his hands on his hips and tsked at Lance.
"Dude,-I-hate-to-break-this-to-you,-but-I-don't-think-she's-coming."
"I e-mailed her last week and invited her. Believe me, she'll be here."
"Yo, I dunno," Toad said, hopping over to them. (Lance cringed in annoyance.) "I think we got us a case a' SUS."
"SUS?"
"Stood UP, sucka!"
Lance fumed. "Go try your luck with Wanda, swamp thing!" he snarled at Toad, who went "Whoa!" and hopped out of range. Then he rounded on Pietro. "Don't you and your tight pants have some place to be?"
Pietro arched one of his spastic eyebrows, blew a raspberry, and took off, picking up a screaming Toad along the way. He left behind a wind that ruffled Lance's hair.
Lance straightened his jacket and went to a payphone. This was a guilt date, and he knew it. He hadn't really been paying attention to Kitty for the past few weeks, because he hadn't been at school that much --- petty thievery and general mischief had taken up quite a bit of his time. He just wanted to see her tonight to make sure she was all right. So he put in some change and dialed.
"Xavier Institute. Oh. Hello, Lance."
It was Professor Xavier. Lance felt little goosebumps rise on his neck. He gulped. "Uh, hi. Kitty was supposed to meet me in town, and she's not here. I was just wondering if she's, uh, if she's okay."
He cringed at how stupid that sounded. Most likely, Kitty and her brain (which, in his opinion, were not necessarily connected) had forgotten he'd asked her out, and she was hanging around painting her nails or something.
"Actually, she's ill," was the terse reply. The tone gave him the sickening feeling that somehow the professor had heard his thoughts, even through the phone line.
He summoned his courage and continued the conversation. "Whoa. That's terrible. How long has she been sick?"
"For the past three weeks, I'm afraid. However, I'm sure she'll be feeling better soon, and I will send her your regards. Goodnight, Mr. Alvers."
-click-
Lance just stood there and blinked at the phone. He hung up, wandered away from The Deli, and headed back to the boarding house, mentally kicking himself the whole way.
~ X ~
Friday afternoon was dragging on forever. It was the choir's dress rehearsal before Saturday's small concert, the group was still sounding lousy, and Kurt was anxious to get home and see if Kitty had woken up yet. She hadn't come out of it last night, prompting Beast to start putting some protein into her IV, along with the electrolytes and medication. He remembered throwing the extra blanket over her before bed, and tucking Mr. Fluffle under her arm. Everything about her seemed so small and fragile, so different from the happy, energetic girl her knew. Her breathing was slow and her skin looked waxy.
"Mr. WAGNER!"
"I didn't do it!" he yelled.
The whole choir started laughing. Kurt snapped out of his little day-mare and looked at Miss Kally, who was tapping her foot.
"Mr. Wagner. Ordinarily, I would work with the basses on getting their pitch up, but there's no time. And since you seem to be the only person in this entire damn choir who can remotely carry a tune, I want you to take the final bass entrance as a solo. All right?"
"Y-Yes, ma'am."
"Thank you."
They went back to singing "Red Red Rose." It was terrible. Lance, who was belting the tenor line with all the pitch placement of a braying donkey, looked angry and annoyed, but had made no move to ask Kurt about Kitty. Choir ended with Miss Kally flinging her hands into the air in disgust, and sending everybody home.
Kurt grabbed his backpack and bolted out the door, yelling, "Tanks-Miss-Kally-see-you-tomorrow!"
Miss Kally was a little surprised. She started to wave goodbye, but Kurt was already gone. The rest of the choir was still packing up.
~ X ~
Scott watched the sunset as he leaned against the side of the gymnasium. The spring wind blew through his hair, ruffling it a little. He put his hands in the pockets of his jacket and closed his eyes. It was exciting, this idea of going out with Jean twice in two days. They had mutually decided to date whenever both of them had the time, particularly if it came in little spurts like this. The wind suddenly smelled like strawberries and soap, and he turned his head to see Jean standing next to him. She wore a lovely knee-length dress and coat.
He smiled. "Ready?"
"Let's do this."
They hopped into Scott's car and headed out. They were going to Candyland. Scott had suggested the place to Jean over lunch, insisting that he could "really whack balls around." The unintentional innuendo made him blush like a fire engine and made her snort into her milkshake. Granted, the idea of two superheroes playing mini-golf struck Jean as a little ludicrous, but this was going to be fun. Bonus if they got through their date without being called upon to save the world.
Scott was driving one-handed, and his free hand was resting on his thigh. Jean took it in hers. Neither could help their quiet sighs, because the whole thing felt so blessedly … normal.
~ X ~
It was only after they got back that evening and Jean had finished showering that she found the letter in her room. Suspecting it was from Scott, and also suspecting it was rather personal, she locked her door and flopped down on her bed to read it in private.
Dear Jean,
I can't believe you kicked my butt at mini-golf. Let's go bowling next time. Mwa ha ha!
Jean groaned. Scott knew she was terrible at bowling.
Anyway, I know you're in the shower right now, but I just have to get this off my chest: I am the luckiest guy alive. And the reason is reading this letter.
LYA,
Scott
Considering her wisdom and mental powers, Miss Grey didn't have the most mature reaction. "Eeeee!" she squealed happily, hugging the paper to her chest and rolling around on the bed. Jean, after all, was a teenager. And any teenager worth her salt knew that LYA stood for "Loving You Always." Scott had just made them official.
"Whoo-hoo-hoo! Yea--- whuaaa!"
She rolled too far, fell off her bed, and landed on the carpet in a heap. Springing up, her dignity reasonably intact (even if her hair was messed up), she dusted herself off, set her face in its usual passive expression, and straightened her bathrobe. Then she hid the letter in her drawer and went about her business, as calmly as if nothing had happened.
------
Hang on, the end's a coming tomorrow!