The New Kids
Wherein the Beaubiers go to BHS
Telltale Quote: I swear though, if one more person calls me French, I'm going to stab someone. --Jean-Paul Beaubier
"Oh my god, we're like, totally going to be late!"
"Shut up already, Kitty," Rogue growled, swallowing half a croissant almost whole. "You've said that about thirty times. And is it me, or is your valley girl accent getting worse?"
Her roommate shot her a Look of Death, but never quite got to respond, as Jean-Paul suddenly appeared at her side and grabbed the yogurt cup right out of her hand. "Hrm... strawberry. I hate strawberry yogurt. Seeds. Do we have blueberry?"
Kitty swiped it back, shooting their Canadian speedster an indignant look. "I don't know, flyboy, look for yourself."
Jean-Paul glared back at her before opening the refrigerator and burying himself in it, head-first.
Rogue actually laughed aloud at them, a rare occurrence for her this early in the day. JP was also notoriously horrible in the morning, and if he hadn't even had a cup of coffee yet (had to be decaf, of course, but he insisted he needed it anyhow to put him into a better mood, for some inexplicable reason. He was nothing if not eccentric...) he was an absolute nightmare. "No coffee on," she reminded him, chucking her thumb at the empty pot. "You forget to set it last night?"
He emerged from the fridge, triumphantly holding up a plastic container with a giant blueberry on the label. "Found it! And whatever, we'll stop and get coffee on the way. Are we all read--"
But he was cut off by a rather loud BAMF! and a "Guten Morgen!"
Jean-Paul curled up a lip and sneered at the cheerful Nightcrawler, presently in fur-free form, before retreating to the counter to find a spoon.
He didn't deal well with morning people, Rogue knew. Which was probably part of the reason the two of them got along so well-- she really didn't either. Or perky people in general. Not that Kurt was "perky," per se... but JP, just to be inflammatory, would probably call him that.
Kurt busied himself finding something to eat, humming happily, as the younger kids all rushed out the door on their way to the van that Mr. Logan would drive them to school in. Rogue, along with Kurt, Kitty, JM, and Roberto (due to association with JM, of course,) would be riding with Jean-Paul, naturally.
It was really kinda weird, thinking of being at Bayville High again, after everything that had happened. And without Scott and Jean. Not that she'd ever had much love for the older girl, but she had just always... been there. And soon, she'd be moving out of the room she shared with JM, and into a dorm in the city. Still close, and she'd still be here on most weekends... but really, it was weird to think of her being, for the most part, gone. It both a relief, and a strange kind of emptiness, at once. Sure, it'd be great not having perfect Jean Grey around to compare herself to. But... well, she'd just always been around.
And Scott... but she was over that, anyhow. And he'd be starting his own classes, in a week or so, at the local college. But man... that left her, JP, and JM as... the seniors.
Weird.
"Ok, enfants!" Jean-Paul had finished wolfing down his yogurt and began herding them all out of the kitchen. "God forbid we should be late, Kitty will pop an embolism. Time for school."
Kitty shot him yet another dirty look, and he smiled at her, sarcastically.
Then again, maybe things wouldn't really be all that different. Still felt kinda the same-- everyone getting in everyone else's way, antagonizing and picking on each other. If anything, with the rather wild Beaubiers taking Scott and Jean's place... things could actually be a lot more interesting this year at BHS.
Jeanne-Marie was feeling a bit shy. Understandably, she reminded herself. But shy, nevertheless.
"Our new students are Jeen-Mah-ree and... Zhon-Pol Bow-beer."
She felt her brother cringe beside her. But, really, he should've been happy. At least she hadn't called him "Jeen-Pol..."
"Did I say that right?"
"No," he answered quickly, in his most business-like, clipped tones. "But don't worry about it."
The teacher just watched him for a moment, puzzled, and then continued down the roster.
He looked over at her and rolled his eyes, then sipped at his coffee again.
She'd hate to be the teacher who irritated him before he finished it, that much was for certain. Despite the fact that it had no caffeine in it, his psychosomatic addiction was quite powerful.
They had homeroom together, with none of their other friends, but the rest of her schedule had at least one other student from the Institute or the Brotherhood with her-- which made her feel much better.
Well, aside from last period. Which was English Lit with Lance and Pietro. That just sounded like hell on earth.
But she'd have to cross that bridge when she came to it.
"So, hey," a red-headed boy beside her, with adorable freckles, leaned over to say to her after the roster was called, during the morning newscast on television. "Where are you guys from? You French or something?"
Jean-Paul, on the other side of her, nearly choked on his coffee.
"No, we're from Canada. From Quebec," she smiled at him gently.
For some reason, the boy blushed. "Oh. Sorry. I'm Tyler Baker. Nice to meet you... er... how should I say your name, again?"
She held out a hand to him, and pronounced it properly, "Jeanne-Marie Beaubier. And this is my brother, Jean-Paul."
Jean-Paul flicked his fingers at them disinterestedly, and hid behind his coffee cup.
He took her hand, and she felt it shaking. "Ok, Jeanne-Marie... was that right?"
"Close," she nodded, still smiling."
This was going better than she'd expected, even if the boy seemed a little jumpy. The boy in front of her turned around now, obviously having been listening to their conversation. "So, Quebec, huh? Then you do speak French, right? Everyone there does, right?"
She stole a glance at her brother, and saw him covering his face, staring down at the desk. She wasn't sure if he was trying not to laugh, or not to cry.
But she smiled at this other boy, the new, dark-haired one with the pretty brown eyes, and said, "Not... exactly. But we do, yes."
"That's cool. You could just take French and get A's."
She laughed, quietly. "It's not the same, exactly. But I did study French in school, before, and I'm going to sit through one of the classes here every day, as an aide."
"Hey, is it with Miss Callahan?" A new voice, behind her, piped up.
She turned to see another dark-haired boy behind her, very handsome, with hair that was long enough to hook behind his ears and a tattoo of an angel on his forearm, on the underside.
Something about boys with tattoos...
"Yes, sixth period," she told him, smiling happily. Oh, she liked this school already.
He smiled back, and when he spoke, she saw something flashing inside his mouth. A tongue piercing. Oh... nice. "I have that class. I'm Aaron. Nice to meet you, Jeanne-Marie."
She smiled at him, but was distracted by her brother's voice beside her. And a definite wave of irritation from him. She turned to look at him, and saw the blonde girl beside him laughing annoyingly loud at whatever it was he'd just said. He had his face buried in the coffee cup again, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else.
"So, are you like... a cheerleader?" The red-head, Tyler, was asking her now.
"Oh, no," she told him, returning her attention to him. "I mean, I never have been before. And they said they wouldn't allow mutants to do sports yet. We're all working on trying to get that ban removed but..." she trailed off then, as she watched the three boys have totally different reactions to what she'd just said. The boy in front of her went wide-eyed and turned around immediately. The red-head beside her also went wide-eyed, but nodded at her, as if impressed. And the boy behind her actually spoke, "Yeah, that's fucked up."
The homeroom teacher looked up sharply, "Watch your mouth, Mr. Benedict."
He rolled his eyes, "Whatever," and looked back at Jeanne-Marie. "There was some shit went down last year, with mutants. But whatever, almost no one gives a fuck. Don't listen to assholes like Randy."
The kid in front of her reached a hand behind his back and stuck up his middle finger, so that the teacher wouldn't see, but Aaron definitely could.
"Fuck you too, dickwad."
Jeanne-Marie laughed at the exchange, and heard her brother's voice again, this time snarling a little. She looked over at him, and saw that he'd now attracted the attention of one of the blonde girl's friends as well, and they were giggling over every word that he said. He looked over at Jeanne-Marie, pleadingly, and she felt it coming off of him in waves. Something that could only be articulated as Oh my god, get me out of here.
She couldn't help but laugh at the expression on his face at that. He was so funny when he was out of his element, her lovely, arrogant brother.
Jean-Paul suffered through AP chemistry and German, his first two periods, alone and almost in silence. A few times, people had talked to him, trying to be friendly. Mostly, they just looked at him askance after he answered the roll call and they heard his accent. He couldn't help but hear the whispers all around him-- Xavier Institute, French, stuck up, mutant. Even a few about him being a sexy motherfucker, in fact.
Those last ones, he didn't mind so much. Some of the kids, the ones he'd met briefly at Amanda Sefton's party that summer, recognized him and waved or smiled. He nodded to those, figuring that was enough, and went about the work of listening to his teachers lay down their first day bullshit. No swearing, no chewing gum, no food, no drink, and no wearing hats. His chemistry teacher appeared to have stuck her finger in an electrical socket, as her hair was well and truly fried, standing on end. And she assigned him the world's most awkward, ridiculous girl as his lab partner. She'd already broken a Bunsen burner, and they'd only just been reviewing how to use one properly. His German teacher seemed to have issues with children vomiting in his classroom, as his first rule was "Don't blow chunks in room 301," which happened to be his room number. He apparently preferred that his students take the waste basket outside and do what they had to, because he simply could not tolerate the sound of someone retching.
Most of the students laughed at that. Jean-Paul simply feared he'd had his lunch ruined.
But finally, third period came around, and he had Lit with Rogue. When he saw her sitting at one of the desks in the back, he instantly pulled her up out of it and threw his arms around her.
She laughed at him, then pushed him away teasingly, "Jesus boy, what's inta you?"
He rolled his eyes, straightening his button-down after that hug. "First, I was assaulted by cheerleaders in homeroom. Then I was left alone in this dismal school, and assigned a horrible klutz for my lab partner. And last period, my teacher talked for a half hour about how he hates when his students vomit in his classroom. I'm happy to see you, chere!"
"Good lawd," she laughed as he took his seat next to her, "Ah never thought ah'd see the day where ya said that to someone, JP."
"I love you every day, Rogue, and don't forget it," he promised her, meaning it more than ever, "but today, you are an angel."
The teacher wasn't so bad this time. In fact, she was pretty fucking funny, making fun of her first period class for being a bunch of idiots (for some reason, he thought Freddy had English first period... which made sense, really. Nice guy, but thick as a brick.) and then mocking them when they didn't answer the questions properly. She was a youngish woman, probably only in her mid-forties, and he rather liked her no-nonsense way of dealing with them. Between that, and having Rogue to bitch with, this class had great potential.
Fourth period was American History with Wanda and Jeanne-Marie, which just made him laugh. American History. Honestly...
And then came that blessed hour, when he could leave the clinical confines of the classroom and head to the...
Clincal confines of the lunch room.
But at least there were no adults talking at him, for an hour.
He sat with Wanda, in a far corner of the cafeteria, since neither of them knew anyone but the people they lived with here, and Pietro found them eventually. He came strutting between the aisles of tables, as if the horrible cafeteria was really some kind of palace, attracting both jealous glares and covetous glances as he did so. He knew it, too. Jean-Paul could see damn well that he knew it. And he was just grinning.
Jean-Paul rolled his eyes, once Pietro looked his way.
And Pietro, that shit, winked at him.
He shook his head and turned away, looking over the table at Wanda. "God, he's even worse at school than he is at home."
She grimaced, poking suspiciously at the lumpy mashed potatoes on her tray. "I figured. He has more of an audience here."
"Well, if it isn't my two favorite people," the speedster in question said as he slid into the chair beside him. When he pulled his chair up, he also moved it over, just a little.
So that his knee rested against Jean-Paul's, if they both relaxed their legs.
The X-Man bit down hard and tried not to look over at his friend. The punk had done that on purpose. And it was working. Goddamn, he wanted to look over at him.
"My wonderful sister and my... Canadian best friend," Pietro finished, grinning at them both by turns.
"Any reason you say the world Canadian like it's some sort of STD?" Jean-Paul asked, conversationally.
"And what do you want, anyhow? I know it's something if you're calling me wonderful...," Wanda screwed up her face at him.
He shrugged, "No, and nothing, respectively. How's old BHS treating you?"
As he said this, Lance and Kitty were now taking seats at the table, beside Wanda, relegating Todd to a seat next to Pietro. Who sild even closer to Jean-Paul, when Toad sat down.
Dammit.
For the past week or two, it had been like this. They'd been inseparable, as ever, Jean-Paul and Pietro. And it wasn't so much that they were pretending they hadn't kissed. In fact, Pietro regularly joked about Jean-Paul's oral fixation, when he got the opportunity.
It was just that...
Well, fuck, what did he expect?
Actually, he knew what he'd expected. He'd expected to lose his best friend, mostly.
What he wanted was something else entirely. He'd wanted Pietro to suddenly realize that he desperately wanted his body and hop into bed with him like a good little speedster.
But neither had happened. Instead... it was like this. Constantly thinking about it, touching or smiling or joking... and doing nothing. Almost like they were... taunting each other.
And yeah, he did it too, entirely on purpose. Leaned on him in the parking loat at the mall, with a "friendly" arm over his shoulders as they walked inside. Sat just a little too close to him when they were watching a movie at the house. Reached up and flicked the hair out of his eyes, when it started to fall at the end of the day. And he knew it had it's affect on his friend, just like it did on him. Somehow, he just knew. Body heat, the way his eyes moved. Something, somehow, made it obvious.
But Jean-Paul just couldn't push it. He would've normally. But he honestly did not think that Pietro realized just how... well, gay he was. And he still wasn't certain that he wanted to be the one to... try it out on.
"Hey, ground control to Major JP!" Pietro said, directly into his ear.
He jumped, suddenly, startled out of his thoughts, and looked up to see dark blue eyes laughing at him. "What?"
"I asked you how your day was, dickhead."
He rolled his eyes, taking a deep breath to regain his calm. "Oh how friendly of you. Give me a second to get my hearing back, would you?"
"Ha-fucking-ha. DidyouhaveGermanyet?"
"Yes. And thanks for bringing it up. Want my lunch?"
"You got the don't blow chunks speech, didn't you?"
Pietro had heard all kinds of amusing tidbits about the "new kids." Thankfully, most people hadn't put two and two together with him and Wanda (he didn't think, anyhow) unless their heard her full name. He'd heard her referred to as "that goth chick," "the evil one," "the witch," and "the girl with the great ass."
Of course, he pretended not to hear that last one. Mainly because it made him feel very violently disposed toward the jackass who'd dared to talk about her that way, while simultaneously giving him an urge to gag. All the rest, however, he could pretty much agree with. Goth, check. Evil, check. Witch... well, they didn't call her the Scarlet Witch for nothing.
The Beaubiers were getting their share of attention too. The "French twins" were a hot topic in the gossip mill before he'd even hit fourth period. He'd heard everything from pretty accurate stories about them being super-powerful mutants, to wild ones about them living in a cabin in northern Quebec with no plumbing or electricity for the first sixteen years of their lives.
He particularly liked that one. He'd have to tell JP about it after school.
The boys were particularly happy about Jeanne-Marie. And the girls about Jean-Paul, apparently. He'd heard Gina Della Rocca, now captain of the varsity cheerleading squad, talking with about six other girls about that "hot French exchange student," whom he could only assume was his oh-so-not-French friend.
Admittedly, he experienced a flash of something when he heard that. He immediately figured it was jealousy; after all, he'd dated most of the cheerleading squad at one point or another. Usually two or three of them at once.
But for some reason, it had ended up feeling more like... possessiveness. Not the jealous kind, either. The gloating kind.
Whatever the fuck that was supposed to mean. Pietro was so confused lately, about that whole mess with JP, that he didn't even bother trying to sort out how he felt about it anymore. He'd decided about a week ago that it was pointless, and he was just going to stop thinking about Jean-Paul entirely.
Of course, that was particularly hard to do. Especially in the morning. In the shower.
But then, he didn't need to think about that at the moment, either. Not in the middle of economics class.
He glanced over at JP, slouched down low in the desk next to him, leaning his head on one hand, looking bored as fuck. Which, for JP, meant that he also looked cool as fuck. He was good at that I'm bored because I'm too cool to be here expression. Pietro made a mental note to practice that more, and decided to let himself watch the dark-haired boy a little more. Just for a minute. Jean-Paul wouldn't be looking over for a second anyhow, he was practically in a coma.
Pietro counted, almost subconsciously. One... two... three... four... five... ok better look back at the teacher now.
He had no idea why he kept doing this to himself. It was like torture.
But he knew damn well that he liked pain, in certain doses. Liked to feel. So it probably had a lot to do with that, really.
Wanda sighed at her Spanish teacher, Mr. Harrison. "I don't want a Spanish name. What's wrong with my name? Can't you just call me Wanda?"
Almost the entire class was giggling behind her now, as she sat slouched in the front row. Not her seat of choice. Where that horrible fucker had put her. Right next to the kid with the comic books (shit ones, like the Green Arrow...) who kept talking to her chest every time they had to introduce themselves to their neighbor to the left. She'd been introduced to James Corchoran about fifty times now. She knew his name was James Corchoran, thanks. And he knew that hers was Wanda Maximoff. Time to move on, turn the page, Senor Harrison...
"Senorita Maximoff, we all need to take Spanish names. This is Spanish Class," the bloated windbag blew at her.
She rolled her eyes. "Thanks, wasn't sure about that. I figured it was Japanese. You know, considering how many times I've just said Me llamo Wanda. What's the point?"
For a moment, the round little man seemed to be turning into a tomato, his face turning the very same color as her jacket. "Better not to talk back to your teachers, Senorita."
"Better not to patronize your students, Senor."
Another round of laughter from behind her, but she didin't give a fuck. What the hell was wrong with this guy, informing her that she was now in Spanish Class. Thanks for the update, buddy. Real fucking helpful.
"Perhaps you'd like to talk to the principal about it," he huffed.
"Whatever," she sighed, already bored with this whole regular school thing. "Are you kicking me out?"
Mr. Harrison's face flushed even darker, a rather dangerous shade of red, really.
She took that as a yes. So she gathered up her books, her black bag, and stood to go.
James Corchoran was grinning like an idiot, watching her.
"Something wrong, smiley?"
He quickly looked down at his book, and his lips started to move as he read.
"Later," she nodded at Sam Guthrie as she walked by him on her way out. He shook his head and waved, silently grinning.
And she could've sworn she heard even more laughter, as she closed the door and started walking toward the office.
"Hey, you're Pietro's sister?"
Oh great. Not two steps down the hallway and already she was busted. She looked up at her assailant, but kept walking. An extremely pretty, in an extremely stereotypical way, brunette. High ponytail, heavy make up, short skirt.
Must've been a girlfriend. Lovely.
"Depends on who's asking," she growled, hoping the sideways glare she shot the girl would be enough to make her shut the fuck up and go away. She sped up a bit, continuing her trek down the locker-lined hallway toward the principal's office.
"My name is Ashley."
Right. So apparently, she couldn't take a hint. Considering her brother's taste in women, Wanda really wasn't all that surprised.
Poor, deluded Pietro. He'd really be a lot fucking happier if he'd just admit that he had better taste in men, and stick to that.
"Your brother was supposed to call me," the other girl was babbling, in the sort of high-pitched voice that made Wanda want to shove her into a locker and slam the door... preferably into her face. "Like two weeks ago. But he never did. And I tried to call you guys at home, lots of times, but someone always answers and tells me he's not there. I saw him today, but he was like... gone when I tried to catch up with him. I mean, what's up with him lately?"
"Look," Wanda stopped suddenly, fighting very hard not to hex the girl into a coma, or start sending lockers chasing her down the hall. "First off, I'm not Pietro's keeper. Second, take a fucking hint, he's not interested. Third, how the hell do you know that I'm his sister?"
Ashley's mouth worked for a moment, as she processed this vast amount of information. Wanda could practically see the words as they were mentally digested, written across the girl's face. Finally, she spoke again, "Everyone knows you're his sister. Everyone knows Pietro."
She gritted her teeth, and started walking toward the principal's office again.
The girl, to her amazement, followed.
Stupid people. They were everywhere. And they simply would not stop breeding.
"Why isn't he interested?"
Amazing. She didn't even sound upset. Just... curious. Vacant.
Wanda suddenly heard Johnny Rotten's voice wailing in her head, in front of the Sex Pistols, "We're so pretty oh so pretty aaaaand... va-cant." "My guess," she snarled aloud, "he found someone better looking."
That stopped the girl in her tracks.
Wanda, breathing a sigh of relief, continued on her designated route. Almost looking forward to the respite from the plague of complete and utter idiots Bayville High School seemed to be suffering from.
Jeanne-Marie shook her head at Alex quickly, in warning, as she watched him prepare to shoot a rubber band at the back of Ray's head. The French teacher, Miss Callahan, who had agreed to let her sit in on the class and be a sort of "teacher's aide," in order to both help the other students, and help her own understanding of English (for lack of a decent ESL program,) shot her a curious look.
She smiled, hoping she looked calm.
Miss Callahan turned her pinched face back to the blackboard, writing out the numbers in French.
Jeanne-Marie looked back at Alex, quickly... and saw Ray, in the desk in front of him, rubbing the back of his head in irritation. He turned around to glare at his roommate for a moment, and then they both started snickering, silently. Alex looked up at her, and held out his hands helplessly, as if he were entirely innocent.
Nothing like his brother. Nothing at all.
When Miss Callahan had finished writing on the board, she passed out a worksheet and a conversation for the students to read back and forth, and asked Jeanne-Marie to help anyone who was having trouble with it.
About seven hands went up immediately, when she suggested that.
All of them belonging to boys.
She decided to play favorites, and head to Ray first. He was scratching his head, honestly confused, so it seemed, and was looking awfully embarassed. Once she had sorted out his difficulties, and he and Alex were back to reading, she moved on to the next closest person who'd needed her.
And saw that it was Aaron Benedict, the long-haired, tattooed boy from homeroom.
"Bonjour," he smiled at her. "Told you I had this class."
She laughed a little, "So you did. What's the problem? Your "hello" sounded wonderful."
He shrugged, "No problem. Just wanted to say hi."
She raised an eyebrow at him. "Well... hello to you too. Let me know if something is difficult."
She turned to walk away, but he caught her wrist, carefully. "Hey listen... um...," the punky boy suddenly seemed tongue-tied. She was surprised. He had seemed rather confident, earlier in the day. But his dark eyes flicked up to the ceiling quickly, and then back down to meet hers again, before he seemed able to continue speaking. "Are you... seeing anyone?"
It took a moment for her to sort out exactly what he meant by that, but when she realized, she felt her face get just a little warm. "Yes, actually, I have a boyfriend," she told him, quietly, hoping it sounded gentle. He was a brave one, to ask her, and she didn't want to be mean about it.
"Oh," he let go of her wrist and smiled at her, just a little uneasily. But he recovered quickly, and said, "Well, I just thought I should ask before I make an ass of myself and flirt with you anymore, right?"
She laughed, louder this time, and Miss Callahan looked up from where she was helping one of the girls in class with her pronunciation.
Jeanne-Marie shot the boy one last smile as he waved goodbye, rather cutely for someone covered in piercings and tattoos, she thought, then she moved quickly to the next one who had raised his hand.
She was lucky to get this opportunity. They'd wanted her to take some horrible class at the local college, even though Jean-Paul, and all the other kids at the Institute, insisted that her English was better than the average exchange student's. Her study of French at Madame's had proven useful, however, when she met with Miss Callahan and discovered that she could speak the French version of her own native Quebecois tongue much better than the teacher. The woman had immediately requested her as an aide (that was something seniors at Bayville High were entitled to do, apparently, work for a teacher for credit) and the principle had reluctantly allowed it to count as her ESL credit as well.
And she did not want to go to that little college and take the class by herself, so she had better do a good job, or Miss Callahan would doubtless throw her out on her ear. The woman had a love for all things French (and cats... she seemed to like cats very much, for some reason,) even French Canadian, apparently. But she had a mean streak that was obvious in her beady little green eyes, and Jeanne-Marie knew that even being from Quebec wouldn't save her from the Wrath of the Cat Lady. (as Ray and Alex had referred to her, upon entering the room.)
So, she continued on her way, face still just the tiniest bit flushed. Until every boy in the class (aside from Ray and Alex, of course) had heard her pronounce the sentences on the paper, in perfect French, roughly fifty times. Individually.
Jeanne-Marie had to wonder if they were really this daft, or if there was some kind of conspiracy among them to make certain she never got to sit down.
Jean-Paul and Pietro, along with Freddy, had spent the entirety of gym class fucking around. And that kind of thing always got Jean-Paul wound up. So he'd been forced to endure trigonometry with his heart racing and his foot twitching. Rogue had offered to knock him out, in fact, if he didn't stop bouncing his foot on the back of her seat.
Kitty had spent a lot of time rolling her eyes at him. But if she wanted to play that game, god knew he could win. So the two of them had engaged in a contest of sorts, to see who could make the most offensive gesture or face before the teacher looked up, for a little while. Which amused the kids behind them, but made the teacher irritatingly wary, once people started laughing aloud.
He probably shouldn't have done that whole thing where he fake coughed, moved his fist toward his mouth, as if he were covering it politely, but stuck his tongue into his cheek so that it stuck out obviously as he moved his hand back and forth a few times. The universal sign for "suck a dick." That had really been the one that had caused the most snickering from the class. But Kitty had been so busy laughing at him that she'd forgotten all about the contest.
Which meant that he'd won. Which made it ok, really. The ends often justified the means, after all.
But now, finally, he was driving home. And good god, he loved to drive. Particularly this car, his baby, the M5 he'd bought last year when he'd gotten the first of his money from the fund Raymonde had set up for him. He had more, that he couldn't get to for a few more years. Which was fine by him, because god knew he'd drop it on Jeanne-Marie or Rogue or doing something stupid with Pietro if he got ahold of it right now.
"What were you two doin' behind me in class?" Rogue whacked him on the arm, reaching over from the passenger seat, "Everyone was dyin', but ah couldn't even look behind me because y'all made the teacher so nervous."
"She started it," he chucked his thumb over his shoulder, to where he knew Pryde was sitting.
"Oh, I'm so sure, JP!" She squealed, also whacking him one, if halfheartedly, from the back. "I had no idea what a little brat you were!"
"He's friends with Pietro," his sister laughed, beside Kitty, "how else could they get along?"
"I suddenly understand your entire friendship," the brunette informed him, catching his eye in the rearview mirror.
He grinned evilly at her, then changed the subject. "God that was fucking boring," he shook his head, shifting gear almost violently. Driving. Fucking great stress relief.
"Well, what did you expect?" Kurt was grinning at him in the rearview now, from the other side of Kitty. "A party? It's school. At least no one decided to freak out on the freaks."
"Yet," Roberto piped up, from beside Jeanne-Marie.
Jean-Paul pretended he hadn't heard that. He still wanted to wipe the little shit out of existence, but he hadn't had the heart to refuse his sister's request that he come with them. Mainly because he knew she'd go with the New Mutants if he said no, just to prove a point. And there was no reason for that, when she could come in his car, which was obviously far cooler than a van full of adolescent mutants. So he could endure the presence of DaCosta, for the moment. Particularly since he seemed to be taking Jean-Paul's advice recently, and making his sister happy.
"I don't know, I thought it was fine," she was saying now, from the back seat. "Everyone was very kind to me. Didn't you think, brother?"
He shrugged, "Whatever, the kids don't concern me. I'm just bored."
"Did anyone mention yet that ya sound like Pietro?" Rogue asked him, sweetly.
He shot her a glare, and changed the subject again. "I swear, though, if one more person calls me French, I'm going to stab someone."
"They think everyone is French, lately," Kurt laughed. "Someone called me French today."
"Closer than me being French. Other side of the goddamn world," he growled back, irritably.
"Is Beaubier really so hard to say? Only one teacher got it right all day...," Jeanne-Marie was asking.
"Yes," the rest of the car chorused, Jean-Paul excluded.
He rolled his eyes, "And what's with the plague of cheerleaders?"
"Some of us wouldn't mind a plague of cheerleaders!" Kurt informed him.
Once again, he rolled his eyes. "Who's hungry?"
"Starving!" His sister announced, predictably. She ate as much as he did, on a regular basis, easily.
"Oh, me!" Kurt added, also predictably. "I need my Gut Bomb!"
Jean-Paul passed the turn-off to go home, and headed for town, knowing that he'd be hungry again by dinner time, no question. "Burgers, then. Fuck, turn this up, it's the Stones."
Rogue obliged, leaning forward and pushing the appropriate buttons on the stereo (yet another thing Jean-Paul was proud of-- not only was his car shiny, fast, and big, but it was also loud. Which made it just about the coolest thing ever, as far as he was concerned.) And the blessed sound of blaring, dirty guitars filled the car and spilled out the open windows.
Bayville High, Jean-Paul had decided during homeroom, was lame as fuck. He hadn't been to a "normal" school in about five years, and before then he'd only gone when he felt like it, for the most part. Skipping school had been a common activity for him in his younger days.
But hell, it was something to do. And he really ought to get a diploma, eventually, so he might as well do it here and now, right?
If only he could herd all of the football team and the cheerleading squad, and half of the other athletes in the school, and the really irritating teachers into the auditorium, or pehaps the gym, and blow it to hell, it would be far more entertaining.
Of course, that'd leave him, the X-Men, and the Brotherhood, pretty much.
But hell, he could dream.
AN: Yes, a rather random chapter, but most everything in it is leading up to, or setting up something that's about to go down. Starting out the new era of "JM and JP in high school," is really all I needed to do here. And hopefully be mildly entertaining. We'll get back to little individual plotline stories properly on the next chapter, you have my word. And rejoice! We're over halfway through the fluffy plot bunny sequel!
That is, unless I get struck my another bunny to the head. Fur coming out my ears from that, atm.
Anyhow, right...
SilverCaladan: She probably did forgive them too easily... but she's sweet, deep down. Unlike me. I so would've had to hit something. If not one of them, something in my room definitely would've ended up broken. And yeah, it was Portuguese, or a poor attempt at it. God help us all, another freaking language I don't understand...
Akuma no Tsubasa: I'm really pleased that she managed to come through the way you described her-- she is mentally unstable, but she does have a will of her own, I think. At least, my JM does, dammit! And yeah, JP is totally bossy, but that's always the way I think of him from AF. Bossy, bitchy, and... sometimes the sweetest man alive. Thanks so much!
Shaman Dani: I honestly thought about having JM sock Berto or JP, but then I thought... wait. If their roles were reversed, and one of them hit her... it'd be so uncool. But that was about all that held me back. Glad you're still reading, and enjoying!
Risty: Yay Berto! Have you see the preview image for Xtreme 42?! Berto, Sam, and Amara, all done by Larocca. Berto looks so bloody cool when he's all powered up ;) Anyhow, thanks for the input, and glad you were ok with the Berto. You write him really well, so that is very cool of you to say.
Regret: Yes... yes I am weird. No question. ;)
Tak: I think you're my new hero. Feel free to tell me what to fix in that last chapter, if the Portuguese is that irritating, seriously. I have never taken it, obviously, and I was just trying to think of what I would say in Spanish, then feed it into the translator that way and make it Portuguese... but I've not even had Spanish in six years, and they're pretty freaking far apart so... ugh. I'm so glad I found you! ;)
Caliente: Hola ;) Yeah, these chappies are long, but that's mostly because they're meant to be stand alone, single plot stories. It's irksome, but it's the best way to approach a random fluff fic that I could come up with. About the Rogue thing, the reason she hasn't been in this fic so much is because I told a lot of what I wanted to tell about her and JP in the main fic, Relativity, like you said. This thing was basically concieved as an outlet for the stories I didn't get to tell in that one, so she ends up getting the shaft a bit. However, She'll be coming in more. Gambit... dude, he'll be back. But not for the fluff. For the next real evo venture. I understand not having much love for Berto and Ray, they're kinda assholes... but I do rather like Ray, because he has no canon history, so he's fun to play with. Berto... I dunno. I just think I'm in love with his juiced up form ;) And Sam... ah, I have plans for our favorite Kentucky boy! Stay tuned, and I will get him some lovin! You're really sweet to leave such a great, kind review. I really appreciate it, and it helps me keep chugging along, typing this crap out all the time. Thank you!
TKD: I too, am angry with Berto for interrupting my nice JM/Ray moment! And he shall pay! Er... sorta. Anyhow, I'm glad you approve of the JM. I like her that way!
jskullguy: Once again, your imagination astounds me. I'd love to see them become full length fics! You should totally do it. I'll be in touch ;)
