Our Fearless Leaders
Wherein Jean-Paul makes a friend, and Jeanne-Marie gives advice
Telltale Quote: This preppy thing is done in, Scott.—Jean-Paul Beaubier
Scott Summers, by virtue of his "eye condition," was perpetually seeing red.
But at the moment, he finally understood what everyone else meant, when they claimed to be seeing red as well. His heart was thudding, his blood was racing, he was sweating, shaking… he hadn't been this mad since Mystique had replaced the Professor (and god, he'd been so mad, he'd almost killed her…)
And he was mad at his girlfriend. Jean Grey.
He ground his teeth hard, trying to sound calm, in control. No blowing up, buddy. Stay cool. You love Jean. You worship her. She's the perfect girl, your angel. Calm. "Jean, you are overreacting."
She had her hands on her hips. "Oh am I? Patronize me a little more, Scott Summers, and you'll see what overreacting is. I am sick and tired of watching you flirt!"
"Jean, she's your roommate for god's sake! Your friend! She wasn't flirting!"
"I'm not talking about JM, I'm talking about you," Jean yelled, loud enough for anyone on the entire second floor to hear, he was certain. "In case you didn't know, most women's eyes are located above the neck, not below, where you seem to think hers are!"
His mouth fell open. "Jean, I—," but he had no reply. Just none at all.
This was insane. One minute he was talking to Jeanne-Marie about her new school clothes, the next he was facing the Red-headed Inquisition. And much like the Spanish Inquisition, no one really expects it. He was completely at a loss.
"I was just being friendly! She was excited!"
"Yeah, bet you were too."
Oh, now that was just over the line. He had not been excited! And Jeanne-Marie was gorgeous, so that was a pretty brilliant accomplishment!
He didn't think saying that would help his case, however.
"What is wrong with you, Jean? You're just pissed off all the time, lately. Nothing I do is right."
"Sounds like that's your problem, Shades, not mine." She intoned frostily, glaring at him with those huge, green eyes.
Damn. She was beautiful when she was angry.
In a scary sort of way. Like a dragon. One that breathes fire. Pretty to look at, but you could be dead in an instant, if she so much as thought of it.
Really… it only made her more beautiful.
But seriously. "This is ridiculous. I wasn't flirting, and neither was she, and you know how I feel about you so this shouldn't even be an issue."
"Fine then," Jean started to walk by him now, "Consider the issue closed."
"Jean…"
But to his utter shock and amazement, he found that Jean was already gone when he turned, and she closed the door behind her as he watched.
Dammit. What the hell was wrong with her these days?
Did she really want the last month they had together to be spent like this? Fighting all the time? Getting upset over every stupid little thing that happened? Why the hell would she suddenly react to JM being a flirt (which, he reminded himself, she was, but she had just been genuinely excited and he had definitely not been excited) so badly?
No reason. No reason at all. Women were so… insane.
He popped the head off the dandelion he was holding, and proceeded to stare blankly, at the trees before him. He was trying very hard to lose himself in the warm August day. To stop thinking why, why, why, when he knew there was no answer. She would just have to come around.
"What are you miserable about?"
Dry. Almost French accent. Male.
Scott turned around to see Jean-Paul Beaubier, sporting his usual overpriced t-shirt and jeans look, with his arms crossed over his chest and coming up behind him slowly.
He shook his head and looked away. Hadn't thought anyone would find him out here. Certainly not Mr. Personality.
Not that he didn't like JP. He really did, always had. But he was hardly someone Scott expected to come looking for a distraught teammate. "What are you doing here?"
Jean-Paul was beside him now, and sat down in the grass. "I came here to think. I do that."
"Oh." Ok, so he hadn't come looking for him. Not that he thought he would. After all, it was JP."Me too."
"I can go. I honestly have no idea why I just sat down next to you."
Scott felt himself smile at that. Somehow, coming from Northstar, the words were charmingly friendly. He sounded bemused, when he said it. "It's cool. What are you miserable about?"
JP started pulling up the grass next to him, with both hands, distractedly. He clearly had no idea he was even doing it. "This is my natural state, Slim. You're the happy-go-lucky one."
"That is the first time anyone's ever described me like that."
"Depends on the basis for comparison."
"Compared to you, yeah, ok, I'll buy it."
Jean-Paul gave a wry half-laugh, that sounded a little like a sigh.
And they sat in silence for a few minutes. JP pulling up grass, Scott staring up at the bright sky.
He remembered how it used to look blue. He'd once heard Kitty say that JP's eyes were like that—like a really bright sky. Not the dark sapphire kind of sky, but the light, not quite cloudy kind.
He hadn't seen real blue in a long time.
Whatever though, right? At least he wasn't tearing the roofs off of buildings on accident, anymore. At least he had everything else. Big deal if everything looked red to him. Small price to pay. He had a family here, hell he even had Alex now. He had Jean…
Involuntarily, he sighed. And immediately wished he hadn't.
As much as he liked JP, he really didn't trust the guy not to mock him for sounding like a pansy.
"Actually, I know why you're miserable," Jean-Paul said suddenly. "I heard. We all heard."
Well, that was unexpected. Not so much that he'd heard, but that he'd bring it up. "Oh. Sorry."Was about all he had to say in return.
JP shrugged, "I don't know what it was about, but I know she's mad as hell."
"She thought I was flirting with…," Hrm. JP did not like people flirting with his sister. He barely tolerated Roberto and JM's odd relationship, in fact.
Not that he was scared of him. Just…
"My sister," the younger boy finished for him, anyhow. She was, after all, the obvious choice."Yes, well, Jeanne-Marie invites it, doesn't she. And Jean is the Queen of the X-Men, I'm sure it annoys her that JM gets attention some times."
Mildly annoyed at first, Cyclops shot him a glare under his shades… but ended up rolling his eyes when he realized how true it was. "Yeah, I guess. She's being weird lately."
Jean-Paul shrugged, "Women are always weird, if you ask me."
Scott declined to comment on that. Clearly, JP was unimpressed with women. He was hardly going to be of any help on this issue. Not that he felt like talking about it anyhow. Hell, he didn't even really want to think about it anymore.
JP shifted, pulled something out of his pockets, and was messing around with something crinkly as the thoughts flitted through Scott's mind. When he next looked over, the darker boy had a Parliament Light lit and was sucking at it contentedly.
Now there was something new. "Since when do you smoke?"
Jean-Paul blew a cloud of toxin away from him, considerately, and shrugged, clutching the glowing stick between his first two fingers lightly, naturally. "When I'm pissed, or when I'm drunk, mostly. Want one?"
Scott raised an eyebrow, "No thanks."
"Guess I could get you drunk first. You'd change your tune."
Scott actually had to laugh at that. Something about Jean-Paul was really alarming sometimes, like when it seemed he was about to start mocking someone. He had a wicked tongue, could lash out with it like no one Scott had ever known before. But other times, he was the most disarming son of a bitch on the planet. Unpredictable. Just so relaxed, comfortable in his own skin. It made him seem so much older than the rest of them, sometimes.
At the moment, Scott really wished he felt a little more at home in his own skin—he always seemed to be on edge. He envied it in JP, but admired it more. That and his honesty. This was one guy he knew would tell him exactly what he thought of him, even if it wasn't pretty.
And there had been times when what JP had thought of him was not so pretty at all.
But at least he was honest.
"I gotta get out of here," Jean-Paul halfway sighed, blowing another smoke cloud straight up in the air. "I'm bothering you because I'm fucking bored, if you want the truth. Almost turned around when I saw you out here, expected to be alone. But seriously man, I'm stir crazy right now."
That, Scott could understand. "I guess I am too. Can't stop thinking, even though I want to."Then a thought occurred to him. "Hey, want to go see that Jackie Chan movie downtown? Jean won't go, and I need something to get my mind off… you know."
Northstar smirked at him around his cigarette, and raised an eyebrow… awfully playfully. "As long as you're not asking me on a date, Summers," he drawled as he returned the cigarette to his hand, smoke rising from his mouth as he spoke. He blew out the last of it in a lazy cloud as he finished the sentence, and just continued smiling, evilly.
Against his will, Scott felt his face flush.
Not that it bothered him. Jean-Paul's… whatever. Homosexuality. He didn't care about who the hell the guy slept with. But sometimes… Jesus he was a fucking flirt, when it suited him. It was kinda uncomfortable…
But undeniably funny, in a sick sort of way. Which was really Northstar in a nutshell, on a good day. Uncomfortably, wickedly sort of funny.
On a bad day, he was just a prick.
The darker boy stopped smirking and punched him in the arm, lightly. "Fuck, Scott, I'm joking. Little humor to lighten your heavy teenage lovelorn angst moment. Ha-fucking-ha, right?"
"Right, I knew that. Sorry. I'm just a little…"
"Tight-assed. Yes, I know, I've lived with you for two months now, and it has not escaped my notice," JP was grinning at him, and exhaling again. Man he was sucking that thing down. "I know I made fun of you and called you a fairy for the glitter thing, but I didn't take it seriously, I swear."
Ok, now he had to laugh. "Yeah, I didn't think I'd be taking the title from you."
Northstar's eyes widened now, in mock surprise, "Mon dieu, the sense of humor returns!"
"Yeah, yeah. Come on, it's a nice day, I'm driving."
Jean-Paul stood up with him, laughing easily now. "Lovely, we can go and sulk together."
"And see some Kung Fu," He reminded his Canadian teammate, "Don't forget, Kung Fu."
"A key element of male bonding and angst therapy throughout the world," Was JP's solemn reply, as they made their way to the driveway and Scott's car. "Sounds like just the thing, Tinkerbell."
Jeanne-Marie leaned in close, closed her eyes, and quickly brushed Roberto's pouting lips with a kiss.
When she opened her eyes, he was smiling again.
His sulks never managed to last too long, when she was in the room.
"There, don't you feel better?"
He grinned at her, his million dollar, flashy white grin, and raised a dark eyebrow suggestively."Feel a lot better if we could head upstairs and—,"
But he never got to finish, because Jean came storming by, obviously in a rage. "Can't you two stop making out in public? God, it's disgusting."
Roberto opened his mouth to talk back instantly, but JM shook her head at him and watched her roommate stomp away, toward the kitchen. When she was out of view, she looked back to him.
He was muttering something in Portuguese that didn't sound particularly kind, and looking pouty again. So cute when he was pouty. Full-lipped and petulant. She loved that.
"She was angry with Scott, earlier. I was talking to him and she ran out of the room, he followed her… maybe I should go talk with her?"
Berto rolled those dark eyes of his. So brown, they almost looked black. Hard to tell where the brown ended and the black of his pupils began, in fact. And those eyelashes… thicker than her own.
Hardly fair, really, when men had prettier eyes than women. But awfully nice to look at.
"Whatever, she's just in bitch mode again. What's new?"
But no matter how pretty Roberto was… Jean was her first friend here. "I should go. I'll see you at dinner, non?"
He sighed, heavily, and his shoulders slumped a bit. "I guess."
She kissed him quickly on one smooth, dark cheek, and hurriedly followed after her red-headed roommate.
Whom she found eating ice cream at the kitchen table.
Surprisingly, the normally friendly Jean didn't even look up at her, just stared down into the carton… which she was eating directly from.
Jeanne-Marie immediately felt more cautious about this situation, at that sight. This was entirely out of character… "Hello, Jeanne…," she started tentatively.
Jean's emerald eyes flicked up to hers, and then back down to the ice cream. "Hello."
Oh. That was cold. JM could practically feel the ice dripping off the word, as the other girl spoke it. She slid into a chair across from Jean anyhow, and leaned her elbows on the table. "I'm sorry if Roberto and I made you angry…"
Jean sighed, and dropped her spoon into the carton entirely. Then looked up at her, and held her eyes for a few moments. "It's not you, JM. I'm sorry, you guys were fine. I'm just…"
Aurora bit her lip, uncertain. She liked when her friends talked to her, but was never quite certain how to encourage it properly. With her brother, it was easy to know. But with others… "Do you want to tell me what's wrong? I'd like to know, Jean."
For a moment, the older girl was silent. Just looking at her. And then she sighed again, and leaned back in her chair, folding her arms over her chest. "I don't know. I'm just… It's August."
Yes, of course it was August. Jeanne-Marie was actually kind of excited about it really. In a few days, she would turn eighteen. And then, a new school. She wasn't so sure how she'd like it, but she couldn't help but be excited…
Oh. "You mean… you're going to a new school?"
Jean nodded, silent, and bit at her bottom lip.
She should have seen it coming, of course. She'd known for a long time that Jean was excited to start college, but reluctant to leave. Who wouldn't be? Jean, for all intents and purposes, ran this school. Everyone looked up to her, respected her… and Scott… well, Scott was in love with her.
And Jeanne-Marie, for one, would not be able to leave something like that. Not in a million years. "Jeanne… do you truly want to leave, more than you want to stay?"
Jean looked down into the carton of ice cream now, and continued chewing her lip for a moment before replying, "Well, it's a good opportunity. The colleges in the city are good, but this one would be free, and it's Ivy League…"
"Well," the darker girl considered carefully. She didn't want to seem like she was pushing for one thing or another, even though she wanted her roommate to stay. This was her first family, and Jean was such an important part of it, to her. The first friend she'd made. The one who'd held her when she was scared. She could remember that much. "I suppose… you should make a list. Write down the reasons to stay in one column, an the reasons to go in another. Then, you can look at them side by side, and make your choice. If you know what is important to you, it will be clear."
The red-head looked back up at her, and pursed her lips a bit. "I've already made the choice, JM. Everyone is expecting me to be… to go to school."
Jeanne-Marie only shrugged at her. "It's never too late, ma amie, when the choice is such an important one."
Jean-Paul was loathe to admit to it, but he really did enjoy Jackie Chan movies. Cheesy, stupid, utterly ridiculous Jackie Chan movies. And this one had been no exception, even though he was not in the best of moods. Not particularly grouchy, he supposed. In fact, he was, for some reason, craving some sort of human interaction. Which usually meant he was in a rare, so his sister told him, good mood.
But he still felt… off.
Yes, he was still angry with Pietro. He'd slept on it. Twice, in fact. And he was still angry.
Not that it mattered, of course. Whatever. They were never really friends, he told himself. And now they would never be, and he was much better off without that bratty son of a bitch stealing his daylight hours.
And that was about all he would allow himself to think, in regard to his former "best friend."Any thing deeper would depress him.
And Scott, really, was pretty amusing to hang out with. Admittedly, he hadn't expected to like the young team leader when they'd first met. But little by little, he'd come to appreciate the older boy's sincerity, and to be entertained by his tight-ass behavior. He was a good guy, just a little…controlled. And so was Jean-Paul, really, so he should be able to understand that.
Guys like Summers, they were just begging to be messed up. Straight-laced and Boy Scout-ish. Always made him want to… corrupt them. Not that he found Scott all that attractive (handsome, but definitely not his type,) but it did honestly amuse him to watch his fearless leader flush with embarrassment if he flirted or joked around with him. Jean-Paul was a sucker for head games, and loved the fact that so many things about him could make people squirm with discomfort. Not that he'd do it, but it'd be awfully fucking funny to get really close, like he was going to kiss him, or give him "The Look" and see if it made him twitch.
"The Look" was something he was particularly proud of. He could stare down anyone, across a room, with it, and they would instantly be his. All he had to do was level his eyes at them, and think of just what it was he'd like to do to them. Very rarely did it happen that he didn't get a response. And if he didn't, he usually ended up getting one from someone's pissed off boyfriend. Or girlfriend, on one occasion.
Talk about misjudging a situation. Hadn't made that mistake again…
But hell, he'd been using that Look for years. And he loved using it.
Sometimes, having been a street kid was a real fucking downer. But it had certainly opened him up to certain… possibilities at a much earlier age than a normal life would have, that was for certain. And the being famous that immediately followed hadn't hurt with that either.
Still, he didn't want to give Scott a heart attack. Or to mock him too much, as fun as it was. They'd had their disagreements (like the disagreement his fist had had with Scott's jaw not so long ago, in fact,) but he did enjoy the other boy's company. He knew Cyke could handle a little discomfort, and be just as entertained as him, in the end. But too much was uncalled for.
He'd have to find someone he liked a little less, and play with them.
Jesus, he was really bored lately.
Fucking Pietro.
Chrisse, stop thinking about that! He's no one to you, there's no reason to be so angry!
Scott, thankfully, saved him from his thoughts. "Wow, really glad Jean wasn't there. She would've spent the whole movie bitching about me ogling that cute girl in the suit."
Jean-Paul wrinkled up his nose, walking beside his friend toward the coffee shop down the street. Neither of them had wanted to go home, and Northstar had promised to order decaf, so they were headed to just hang out a bit more before returning to the Institute. "She was too thin."
Scott looked over at him and raised an eyebrow.
"I'm gay, not blind," the Canadian smirked at him.
"Good point," the other boy conceded. "So where's Pietro lately, I figured you'd be hanging out with him."
Jean-Paul looked at the sidewalk immediately, at his brand new Diesel shoes he was so proud of. God he loved that store. "Pietro is… a complete bastard."
He could feel the look Scott was giving him now, behind those ruby shades (which actually made him look damn cool.) He knew very well that pretty much everyone at the Institute had ideasabout his intentions toward the other speedster. He hadn't said anything to anyone but Rogue, but it was pretty clear that JM knew, and everyone else… well they were good people, but he knew very well that any guy he started hanging out with too much was going to come under suspicion of being a love interest.
Of course, any guy his sister hung around with would come under suspicion of being hers. Or any girl Scott hung around, or Kurt, or whoever. That was the nature of the beast, as they said. So it wasn't as if it was just him.
Still, it irritated him a bit, because it was true. Was true. Not that anything was ever going to happen, but it was there, anyhow. Hell, half the time he would've sworn it was there from Pietro's end too…
No. Stop thinking now.
"Well, yeah, but I figured you knew that, man," Scott was laughing, happily cutting off his thoughts again. "I mean you guys have been hanging out for two months now, right? He's always been a complete bastard, as far as I know."
Jean-Paul shrugged, "Birds of a feather, as they say."
Scott laughed again, that easy laugh he had when he was relaxed. Jean-Paul often envied that laugh. Admired it, but envied it more. He always thought his own laugh sounded either forced, or just wicked. Must be nice, to laugh so easily. Even if he was a tight ass most of the time. "You're only a bastard when you feel like you have a reason, it's usually more a question of how much the rest of us agree with you. Maximoff just pisses people off to be a dick. There's a difference."
"He just gets bored easily," Northstar was defending his ex-friend before he realized it, "he can't help that no one can keep up with him. It's not easy for him, you know."
Scott was silent a minute, and Jean-Paul felt that look again. That questioning, curious one. And he knew that his traitorous cheeks were flushing. And his ears as well, most likely.
Fucking hell. He'd have to learn to control that, like he was controlling his expression, at the moment. "But it's no excuse, you're right. He's a complete twat," he amended.
From the corner of his eye, he saw the taller boy nodding, "Yeah, that's all I meant. Sorry, I know he's your friend."
"He's not my friend," Jean-Paul snapped, instantly, totally thrown off by the conversation at this point. God, just be quiet for a minute, Beaubier. Get your control back… Another moment's silence, and he looked over at the boy beside him, finally. "Christ, I'm just in a mood. Ignore me."
Scott smiled at him brightly, "Don't sweat it, Speedy. Figured it was a sore subject. Remember, you're ordering decaf, and I'm buying."
"If you weren't so damned cute, Summers, I'd fight you on this," Jean-Paul couldn't resist, as he opened the door for his team leader, back to smirking.
Scott rolled his eyes this time. "If it keeps you decaffeinated, I don't care how much you stare at my ass, Jean-Paul. Hell, I'll stare back."
He was about to comment on how impressed he was with that reply, when he felt something familiar tugging at the corner of his mind. He looked around as he stepped inside the small, blessedly air conditioned shop, and caught Jeanne-Marie seated in a far corner, in the back, with Jean. Smiling at him. "Look who's here," he nodded for Scott's benefit in their direction.
Scott grimaced, "Hell."
"Should we go say hello?"
"No."
Jean-Paul rolled his eyes, "Now who's the bastard? Come on, she's probably forgotten all about it."
He started in their direction and, as he had known he would, Scott followed along.
"Hello, boys," his sister was smiling at them sweetly as he made threaded his way through the last few tables and to her side. "What are you two getting up to in town?"
He put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed, by way of greeting, and then looked over to measure Jean's reaction to the presence of Scott. She was pointedly looking at the two of them by turns, no expression on her face… and covering up a piece of paper in front of her, obviously torn from the journal he'd bought Jeanne-Marie, which was sitting in front of his twin.
Interesting.
"Jackie Chan movie," Scott answered, a little too cheerfully.
"Male bonding," Jean-Paul intoned, dryly.
Jeanne-Marie giggled and Jean made an attempt to smile at him.
He didn't like Jean half as much as he liked Scott. She was bitchy, much bitchier than he was, as far as he was concerned. But she did look genuinely distressed. ::What's her problem?:: He asked his sister, switching into their Québécois native tongue, and quietly. ::Scott's very upset about this fight, I think.::
::She is too. She is thinking she doesn't want to leave, and it's upset her very much.:: Came his sister's wide-eyed answer.
::Idiots.::
::Talk to him about it, please.::
He raised an eyebrow at her. This was not his scene, so much, this shoulder to cry on thing. But what the hell. And not as if he could deny Jeanne-Marie anything, if she asked. ::I'll try it, sister. For you.::
She smiled up at him sweetly, ::Thank you, Jean-Paul.::
"Well, um, not to interrupt," Scott was fidgeting behind him impatiently, obviously wanting to get moving. "But we were getting drinks, so we'll see you girls later, at home, I guess."
Jean looked at the table. Hard.
"Yes, nothing like coffee on a humid, hot day like today. Later, mes amis."
As they made their way to the counter, once they were out of hearing range, he told Scott, "Well, that was uncomfortable. Sorry about that. I was asking what the hell is wrong with Jean, though. Jeanne-Marie says she's upset about leaving, and doesn't want to go."
Scott looked over at him in surprise. His mouth was open, and working, but no sound was coming out.
"Can I help you?"
Scott blinked once, then looked at the woman behind the counter, who was staring at them eyebrows raised. "Uh, yeah…," he fumbled for his wallet, "Um… one frozen Irish cream cappuccino and… uh…," he looked back at Jean-Paul now, nodding that he should order.
"Amaretto iced coffee…"
Scott raised his eyebrows.
"Decaf," Jean-Paul sighed, disappointed.
He paid, and they continued to find themselves a table near the window. And Scott looked at him carefully over his drink as he sucked on his straw. Considering.
Jean-Paul knew what he was considering, of course. Whether or not he should talk. He knew he was supposed to say something to convince the older boy…
But hell, this really wasn't his thing.
"So… uh… you think I should bring it up with her?"
Jean-Paul nearly sighed with relief. Thank god for Americans and their blundering need to talk things out. All the fucking time. "Probably. Women are like that, non? Want to be asked, expect everyone to know how they're feeling. Now that you have insider information…"
Scott nodded, thoughtfully. "I feel kinda bad now. I mean, for not figuring that's what it was about."
Jean-Paul took a pensive sip of his own coffee. He could swear he could taste the lack of caffeine. Lame. Oh well, at least the amaretto syrup had sugar. "You love her?"
Eyebrows raised, Scott just looked at him. Like he'd just been smacked in the face, and didn't know what to think.
"Ok, so yes, you do," that much was clear, from that reaction. "Then, oui, talk to her. But remember, you didn't hear it from me."
"Yeah. Yeah, I'll make it seem like I'm figuring it out, as we talk."
"You're a mastermind. Be subversive and prosper, mon ami."
Scott rolled his eyes. "Right. But I don't want to pressure her into staying…"
"No, of course not," Jean-Paul was just playing along now. He figured that at this point, all he really needed to do was nod and smile and repeat whatever the other boy said, and he'd sort it out on his own.
And he couldn't even have caffeine. He deserved caffeine for this.
"And I should take her out somewhere nice…"
"Definitely."
"Can I borrow that button down you have? The black one with the white stripes down the front?"
Oh sweet Jesus. The horrors of having the only decent wardrobe in Bayville. "Yes, but maybe not that one. What about that white one with the green paisley print? It's cooler, and would look better with your hair color. Not to mention the shades. And those jeans." And besides, it'd look better on Scott than on him. He had no idea what had compelled him to buy such a thing, he looked much better in blue… and honestly, paisley?
Scott just nodded, "Right, ok, good thinking."
"Just make sure the shirt underneath is white. Don't go screwing it up. And that necklace she gave you, the one that's hemp, wear that." he added. If he was going to do this, he was going to do it right. "It'll complete the so-badly-retro-it's-good look you can do so well."
Scott raised an eyebrow. "You think? That's my look?"
"It should be. This preppy thing is done in, Scott."
He seemed to be thinking that through rather deeply, before he asked "So what's yours?"
He considered. "The I'm-too-snotty-to-be-a-rock-star-but-I-want-to-be look. Black shirts, pre-worn out jeans, and all of it more expensive than it should be."
"Dude, you need a belt. A black leather one with metal shit on it."
Jean-Paul laughed at that. But actually, such a thing might be good for going out… not that he did that much, lately, but that only meant he was long overdue. And he'd be eighteen in a few days, would get his new ID. The first one to list his name as Jean-Paul Beaubier, in fact. He wouldn't need his fake just to go out dancing, anymore. "Maybe, honestly. Not necessarily a big one…"
"Just a rock star one."
"I'll consider it."
Jean pretended not to be watching the two boys near the window, who were laughing and talking animatedly over their coffee.
Great, now he's flirting with Jean-Paul. He looks really upset that we fought, alright!
And then, Calm down, Grey. Scott isn't flirting with anyone. Just. Calm. Down.
She looked over the table at Jeanne-Marie, who was eyeing the list they'd made carefully. Honestly, it had seemed like a stupid idea. But she really hadn't been mad at Aurora in the first place… the girl was a flirt, and definitely gorgeous… but she was her friend. And absolutely not after Scott.
And Scott wasn't after her. Or her brother, for that matter. Or anyone.
Anyone but Jean, anyhow. And here she was, being a brat, during their last month together.
But… it didn't have to be her last month.
She chewed on her bottom lip, and listened to Jeanne-Marie read off the list.
"Alright, reasons to stay in Bayville. Number one- Developing powers. Number two- Friends at Xavier's. Number three- Offer from NYU. Number four- You want to stay."
"Should we really count that one, JM?" She shook her head. It sounded so silly…
"Is it true?" Jeanne-Marie raised one already upswept eyebrow at her.
She nodded, slowly. She did want to stay. And not just because she was afraid to go somewhere new. Somewhere new would be a good thing. But… this was home now. Her friends were here. All they'd been through in Bayville, and the X-Men… the X-Men were her home. Everyone has to leave home, of course…
But she'd done that once, already. This time, she wanted to stay.
"Number five- Scott," The younger girl continued, as if the issue was settled. "But you decided that wasn't a good reason…"
Jean swallowed heavily. She knew better than to think that she should stay in one place for some boy. It wasn't in her to do something like that. And that was, perhaps, the thing that made this most difficult. Separating her wish to stay from her wish to be with him. They had to be two separate issues, in order for her argument for staying to be valid. She could not stay for a boy.
The NYU gig was good. Very good. Just a little more expensive, oddly enough. And she could totally either live there and come back to the Institute on some weekends and evenings, or even commute, if she really wanted to stay. The Professor had encouraged her to live in a dorm, telling her that half her education would be learning to live with the other students, and she liked the idea… but staying in the city would make it so much easier. On her peace of mind.
Her parents would support her, that much she knew. That was nothing to worry about. But would they be secretly disappointed that she had turned down her shot at the Ivy Leagues? Her father was a Princeton graduate, himself… wouldn't he be just a little disappointed?
She'd talked these things through, with JM. And her roommate had given a solid, if emotion based, response to each. And she found herself believing.
But she had to be sure. She couldn't stay for Scott. It was the biggest mistake anyone could make, choosing a school for a young relationship that might never fly. Everyone knew that.
Only… she had a feeling it would fly, if it had a chance.
But no way. Not for him.
For her.
"Reasons to go," Jeanne-Marie continued. "Number one- Full ride. Number two- Ivy Leagues. Number three- A new experience. Number four- To make your family proud… Jeanne, are you sure that's a good reason?"
Jean furrowed her brow at the other girl. "Of course it is. They are my family."
"Well… you said you don't want to stay for Scott, but for yourself, non?"
She nodded, "Right."
"So why would you consider going for them? Shouldn't all of these be about you, as well?"
Jean just stared at her. Part of her wanted to tell Jeanne-Marie that she couldn't understand, not until next year when she'd have to make the same decision. She couldn't know…
But part of her knew damn well that JM understood. They'd talked enough since she'd come here to know that Jeanne-Marie, though highly emotional and sometimes a slave to it, understood people. And she understood love, and being honest. So it would be unfair to discount that…
And really, she was right.
Jean pulled at her hair, raking a hand through it impatiently. God, she just wanted this to be over. Just wanted to make her choice and move on, just make some sort of action toward her goal. Stop turning things over and over.
"I want to stay," she heard herself say, suddenly.
Jeanne-Marie smiled, a wide, beautiful, genuine smile.
God, had that really been aloud?
"Jeanne… I'm so happy!" Her friend reached across the table and took both her hands in her own. And she even looked a little misty-eyed, actually. Those electric blue eyes seemed foggy and a little wet.
Jean squeezed her hands, and took a deep breath.
And found that she felt much better. Just knowing. She shot a glance back over at the window table, and found that Scott was looking directly at her. She blinked, almost looked away as her stomach dropped.
And saw him smile at her. Tentatively. But it was a smile.
So she smiled back, and squeezed Jeanne-Marie again, and Scott went back to laughing at something JP was saying.
She'd have to make him take her out somewhere nice. To celebrate. Maybe she could borrow that tank top Jeanne-Marie had, with the ribbons woven into the straps…
(Ok, ok, back to JP and Pietro for a few after this. For better or for worse. Gonna start to get hot up in here. I'll try and post more soon, but I'm moving house tomorrow, so let's just see how fast I can get this computer online!
I had some major issues posting this one, because I lost my edit and had to go back and find it. Sorry if there are a few mistakes, but I may have to fix it up again! Much love –Beaubier)
