It wasn't so hard getting around Bayville High, Rogue discovered mercifully, so long as she arrived a little early each day to increase her knowledge of the grounds and get her bearings. And she hadn't lowered herself by asking directions even once.
"Oh yeah, Ah rock," she muttered sardonically, pawing through her locker for her books.
But she wasn't that pleased with herself. No matter how much she tried to distance herself from Darkholme during school hours to prove her worth, she had made what people called Principal Darkholme's List of Needy Weirdos. And surprise, surprise, it included all the rest of the Brotherhood of Mutants.
OK, so it wasn't actually an official list. But Darkholme always seemed to be around, checking that Rogue wasn't becoming drawn into conversations with anyone.
She'd called home a couple of times, because Irene asked her to. But the conversations were becoming increasingly shorter, which agitated and wrong-footed Rogue. Why didn't Irene want to talk to her, for God's sakes? It wasn't as if she had much else to do, Irene didn't have what you'd call a full social life.
Rogue had sighted the newest Needy Weirdo nearby the principal's office early that morning, a mountainous boy whose footsteps shook the floor. His name was Fred Dukes; he was the boy Mystique had mentioned who had performed in a ring. Monster truck rallies, he'd said, although he hadn't been keen to chat about his life as a sideshow attraction. He had a blank expression and a yellow mohawk. All the Needy Weirdos seemed to have odd hair- herself included. She brushed her hair out of her eyes and wondered if she ought to just take the plunge and dye it all the one colour, to stop all the stares.
Meh. Forget it, the day she got rid of her streaks was the day she'd start dressing like- like Taryn Fujioka in her English class. What a DITZ. Rogue glanced at the schedule she'd taped inside her locker door and groaned inwardly. First period was English! With Taryn giggling and asking questions any idiot would answer in their sleep and Paul Millard, the loser, with a new nickname for Rogue every ten minutes. Taryn laughed like a lunatic at every one of his infantile comments, with this really peculiar shrill giggle. She thought he was hilarious. Sneering into the deeps of her locker, Rogue wondered whether Taryn had a crush on him. She WOULD.
And one of the X-Men was in her class too. Scott Summers. Thinking about it, he was most likely the one Taryn wanted to get her hooks into. Rogue had been at school two weeks, right? In every English class they had together she'd notice yet another annoying quality of his. It was hilarious that she'd been there two weeks and could STILL pick out completely original annoying qualities.
Like... at school he wore red sunglasses. They were so ugly to Rogue she wanted to rip them off, stuff them in his mouth and laugh outrageously as any X-Men standing in the background got fried by those lasers he had in his eyes. OK, so he had to wear them constantly to control his mutation and live a normal life, but it looked incredibly stupid. Like he's try'n'a be a badass or somethin', thought Rogue.
He had a stupid preppie hairstyle and stupid preppie clothes, and he sat near the front of the class when even little kids knew anywhere in the first three rows was unacceptable. He sat there looking all INVOLVED, answering any question he was asked correctly. Even though he wasn't a geek.
... Oh. Yes, he was.
AND he did this stupid thing with his chin whenever he was upset, sticking it out and inhaling sharply. He should learn to loosen up, Ah could teach him a thing or two, Rogue thought viciously.
When he was upset... like when that Jean girl blew him off. She spotted them sometimes in the halls, but more often than not she was with Duncan Matthews.
Oh, Lord. Jean and the Ditz were best friends. That was really too bad, Jean was probably an airhead too, then. How Scott could be so protective of an airheaded person was beyond her, but she'd heard people commenting that he acted like her overprotective older brother. She hadn't witnessed any over protectiveness firsthand, but couldn't wait to. She'd surely find something else to laugh at.
Rogue wondered what colour his eyes really were. Maybe brown. Brown would look really nice.
But if she could get her way she'd make his eyes the most random colour imaginable. Yeah. Like... powder blue. She'd give him powder blue eyes, completely screw up his colouring, and make them all big and goofy. They'd cross. They'd have eyelashes so long they'd look like fakes. Except they'd be real. Rogue shook with silent laughter at the mental image.
Rogue got to English first, scoring her favourite seat. She was well practiced in the fine art of picking a seat that would make you invisible to the eyes of authority. You could go the elementary school and junior high way and pick the corner seat in the back row, sitting in the shadow of the cupboard... OR you could do the smart thing and sit in the very middle of the classroom. But it was important not to sit in the first three rows. Those were reserved for the losers.
"I'm going to like, take this seat," said Taryn the Ditz, sitting in the second row. Ah rest mah case, Rogue thought with a sneer.
The class started, and for about the first twenty minutes the students took notes. Well, not really. The Ditz and one of her clones began passing notes so obviously it wasn't even funny. Paul Millard the Loser was gazing out the window and drooling slightly. Rogue wrinkled her nose. Ew.
She flipped to a new page in the notebook she was meant to use for taking notes and started writing down a list of words that rhymed with skin, which lead to a complete song lyric.
It's in my skin
It's in my skin
No-one can know
My greatest sin
He's in my head
Inside, I'm dead
No-one can ever know
What a sucky lyric! Fuck, I suck, thought Rogue, sneering for about the fiftieth time that day. Hey, more poetry. Turning her losses into jokes helped to ease them, sometimes, and distract her from the fact that in all the time she'd been writing songs she'd never actually got beyond three verses.
Suddenly, the door opened and Scott Summers walked in. "Sorry, sir," he said breathlessly. It sounded like he'd been running. "I got held up. Sorry. Uh, sorry." He kept saying it as he weaved through the desks. Rogue smoothly wrote underneath her attempt at a lyric: Annoying Quality #34- Says sorry too much.
Summers took the only empty seat, which happened to be in front of Rogue, and Rogue spent the next few minutes staring at the back of his neck. She had the weirdest urge to reach over with her pen and jab him just above his stupid button-down collar. Which reminded her...
Annoying Quality #35- He wears button-down collars.
Rogue stared at the thirty-fifth annoying quality with a kind of joy, and amused herself by picking out some more.
Annoying Quality #36- He cleared his throat for about ten seconds at a stretch.
Annoying Quality #37- He did it again.
Annoying Quality #38- And again.
Rogue was lifted from the joy of picking out Annoying Qualities by the teacher walking through the class and distributing things to the students. Ooh. Time to pay attention. She held her notebook in her lap.
"... all right, for this drama exercise you'll each be doing a scene with a partner. Since a few of you haven't chosen partners, I'll be pairing you up myself. Taryn, you and Paul are going to do Laura and Jim from The Glass Menagerie. And that leaves you-" (Rogue froze as she was picked out) "- and you."
Summers. Rogue slouched down in her seat in irritation. Ah'd rather jump off a fuckin' bridge than go anywhere near that traitorous preppie nothin'!
"Uh, great," Scott Summers said sarcastically. Rogue seriously considered jabbing the nib of her pen into the back of his neck. Ah mean seriously, would anyone really care if he got poisoned?
Hmm. Someone who killed people by jabbing them with a poison-filled pen. Not a bad idea for a short story.
"You two will be doing Shakespeare's Henry the Fifth. I've marked it. Henry and Katherine, daughter of the French King."
Joy, thought Rogue.
The Loser sniggered. "Lots of luck, Scott. I don't think Miss Small, Dark and Sullen has ever said two words. You're gonna have to play both parts yourself, man."
The majority of the class laughed, and Rogue mused on whether she'd get off on justifiable homicide charges for killing the crap out of Paul Millard.
"All right, class. All right," the teacher droned boredly. All right, all right, mimicked Rogue silently. Ya sound like a damned broken record.
"... get together with your scene partner and rehearse. You perform on Tuesday," the teacher said.
Summers turned around to Rogue. "Uh, hey, you OK with this?"
This is it, Rogue. Time to show him what you're made of. Rogue gave him her best glare and said in her best Ice Queen voice, "Ah'm not afraid of you."
"Uh, I didn't say you should be."
Rogue made a mental note that his thirty-ninth annoying quality was that he said 'uh' too much. "Just tell your weirdo friends to keep their distance this time."
... And he had weirdo friends. She'd forgotten that one. Heh.
She left, hearing Scott heave a dramatic sigh. "Oh, yeah. She likes you. She's just playin' hard to get," Paul said.
"Shut up, Paul," Scott snapped.
Mah thoughts exactly, thought Rogue.
A few minutes later, at her locker, she had a close encounter of the annoying kind. "Hey. Hey, uh, new girl!" called the Ditz loudly, even though she was standing at Rogue's side. She had two friends in tow.
Well, at least it was a step up from Miss Short, Dark and Sullen. "Yeah?"
"Aren't you like, doing that play thing with Scott Summers?" said Taryn anxiously.
"Oh, so that's his name. Ah had wondered," said Rogue in an absolute monotone.
"Duh," said one of her friends. "You are so lucky. He's like, FINE!"
And you're like, stupid, thought Rogue, and smiled just a little bit.
"Scott is so incredibly charming," gushed one girl on the outskirts of the trio. This was probably her punishment for having a vocabulary that included two-syllable words.
"Yeah, Scott is hot," said Taryn, nodding vociferously.
Rogue wondered how to answer this. She settled for a contemptuous, though not easily detected snort.
"Just remember, new girl. I've got dibs on him," the Ditz said dangerously. They turned on their collective heel and rushed off.
Rogue gazed after them. "She's got DIBS on him?" she muttered finally. "How old is she again?"
Because she had nothing better to do, she met up with Lance and Todd at lunch and sat at their table. She filled them in on all of Scott Summers' latest annoying qualities, but they didn't seem that interested. Then again, they started chortling about something they'd written inside the boys' bathrooms which Rogue wasn't particularly interested in, so whatever.
She was brought back to the reality of the room when a loud crash and splatter jolted her awake, so to speak. "Oh mah God," she said, rolling her eyes as she saw that Fred's chair had broken under him. He tipped his table over. She couldn't help but snicker slightly, and scowled as Lance punched her on the arm to shut her up as easily as if she'd been a boy. She was all for gender equality and all but dude, that had HURT.
Food went flying at Duncan Matthews' table. She knew of him, and didn't like him already. He was a poser. So Rogue felt pretty OK with his fancy letterman jacket being sprayed with food.
He stood up and glared at Fred, who was lying on the ground absolutely caked in food. It seemed the whole cafeteria was holding its breath. Duncan wiped green Jell-o off his jacket. He stalked towards Fred, his buddies following. "Bad move, blob boy," he growled.
"Ooh, Ah'm scared now," Rogue whispered sarcastically. Lance sneered, and Todd tittered.
Fred attempted to get up, but slipped in some orange substance, which Rogue had spurned in the lunch line, thinking it looked kind of... well, wrong. By now, everyone was laughing at him.
He went bright red. "Don't... laugh... at me!" he roared, and Rogue jumped as he bellowed. Shit, she thought.
Fred grabbed fistfuls of food and heaved them at Duncan, getting him right in the face. Duncan fell and his entourage started lobbing food at Fred. Fred snarled and screamed some more- Rogue didn't know whether to giggle or feel concerned. It just looked so stupid from where she was sitting. What ensued, however, made a thrill of fear run down her spine.
"Food fight!" shrieked some random kid.
And suddenly the air was thick with airborne school lunches. Rogue ducked right under the table. This looked rather stupid, but paid off because she heard the audible yelps from Todd and Lance that proved her theory: that it was better to slide under the table and have your skirt ride up than to be hit in the face with dubious-looking orange semi-edible goop.
Leaving the rest of the Brotherhood boys to their own devices, Rogue made for the door. Because a pretty substantial crowd was now fleeing the cafeteria, Rogue could count on them to shield her from the food fight and was able to stand up properly as she ran out. Fixing her skirt, she stopped just clear of the door. Just for a laugh, she hung there; watching as Jean Grey fought her way toward the Blob. She was using telekinesis to deflect the food he was chucking everywhere so damn obviously Rogue didn't know why she didn't just wear a sign saying it.
"Fred, stop!" shrieked Jean. She slipped on some food and careened straight into Fred. "Fred! Fred!"
It suddenly occurred to Rogue, as Fred Dukes lifted a lunch table blindly over his head, that Jean Grey was probably going to get her pretty face smashed in in the next three seconds. And what really surprised her about this was that she didn't feel totally good about it.
"Fred!" Jean screamed.
SHATTER.
Scott Summers had blasted the table by removing his shades for a moment. Fred stood there foolishly; looking bewildered at the fact that he was now only holding the table leg.
"Put the table down, Fred," Jean Grey said freakishly calmly.
"Jean?" stammered Fred.
"You heard her, big man. But if you want to fight, try me," said Scott Summers in a steely voice. Rogue was enthralled by this display. She held her breath, grey-green eyes wide open... so anxious for him that she could feel her heartbeat in about four places at once.
He didn't seem afraid one tiny bit. It was so cool. And he WAS being all protective, but for some reason Rogue couldn't classify this as a new annoying quality. It was just... really, really cool.
"Back off, Scott. I'll handle this," Jean Grey said to him as Fred prepared to strike out with the table leg. To Fred, Jean said, "Everything's fine, isn't it, Fred?"
Fred seemed very agitated. "They shouldn't'a laughed at me!"
Jean Grey flinched when he raised his voice and hurriedly said, "No! No, they shouldn't." To Summers, Jean said, "Uh- Scott, don't you have to get to class or something?"
Summers began to take his leave. "I'll be close if you need me. Real close." Rogue let out her breath and silently died from embarrassment when she realised it sounded like a dreamy sigh. She backed away from the door, her hand over her heart, and struggled to compose herself. It was fine. Summers and Grey hadn't been slaughtered.
... Although it would have been kind of cool to see them get really pounded by the latest Needy Weirdo. Heh, heh.
Jean Grey said something, which Rogue didn't catch. Rogue just stayed absolutely still and waited for Summers to emerge. She wanted to yell herself stupid at him for picking a fight with someone three times his size. How stupid could you be? Didn't he damn well realise he could have been really hurt?
Even though all the exasperated fire inside her didn't fade one bit, as he appeared it turned into- into something else. She had the weirdest urge to give the big stupid idiot a massive hug. Somehow... she ended up saying admiringly, "Wow! Ya'll really look out for each other, don't you?"
He looked at her. "Yeah. Yeah, we do that."
Like the worst of teachers are wont to do, Darkholme materialised seemingly out of thin air. Looming over Rogue and Scott Summers like the Principal of Darkness, she boomed, "What's going on here?"
Never in her life had Rogue found that sentence so unnerving. "Nothing," she said quickly, pointedly avoiding Summers' eyes.
Summers took over. "Um, we were just talking, Principal Darkholme."
Darkholme thinned her mouth. That was probably something they'd taught to every female student at teachers' college a million years ago when Darkholme was there. To the men, they taught the sharp-inhaling-and-sticking-out-chin thing.
Hmm. Rogue wondered sarcastically if Summers was considering a career in teaching.
"Then you had best stop your talking and get to class! Have I made myself clear?" she snapped.
Rogue felt guilty. Darkholme was going out of her way to keep an eye on Rogue and the X-Men and all Rogue did was think bitchy thoughts about how Darkholme's mouth went when she was annoyed. If Principal Darkholme didn't do this, Rogue probably wouldn't have been alive at the end of her first week!
Although there was the pressing matter of why she'd even been put in the same school as the X-Men anyway. She'd have preferred to go back to Berridge High, at least there was a minimum of bloodthirsty adolescent mutant assassins there...
"Yes, ma'am," said Rogue dutifully.
She began to creep away, determined to show Darkholme that her safety was not being compromised in any way.
But that DICK Summers had to yell after her, "Hey, don't forget, in the park after school! And bring the playbook with you!"
Rogue cringed and grunted to show that she heard, but couldn't care less. Annoyin' Quality Number Forty is DEFINITELY his bad timin'! she thought angrily.
- - -
DISCLAIMER: X-Men Evolution does not belong to yours truly. It belongs to the WB, Stan Lee, Marvel Comics, whoever you like.
NOTES: I saw the film Peter Pan just the other day. I totally loved that book when I was little. I liked Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens too, which I suppose is the prequel. If I had been just a tiny bit older I probably would have bawled my eyes out at the bit where Peter (having run away to live with the fairies in Kensington Gardens) returns to the window of his nursery (flying, naturally) only to find the window shut and his parents within, hugging and kissing their new baby boy. You see, they've forgotten all about him. And he cries and bangs on the window, pleading for them to let him in, but they can't hear him, so he leaves the nursery window and never returns again. However, as a child I was even more of a cold, heartless cow than I am now, so I didn't cry at that scene so much as sit around mourning.
I liked the film adaptation of Peter Pan. All these girls at my school think Jeremy Sumpter (who plays Peter Pan) is hot, which in my humble opinion is a bit disgusting considering he plays the Boy who Never Grows Up. He makes a pretty pathetic pin-up in my eyes unless you happen to be a complete paedophile. The friendship (and dare I say, romance) between Peter and Wendy was very sweetly depicted, and Jason Isaacs was great as Mr Darling. I was just cracking up. And I also liked Tiger Lily; she gave me a real laugh. John and Tiger Lily making flirty eyes at each other was a real- well, a crack-up, I suppose. :) The cinematography was very pretty- the scenery, etc.
... Can you tell that my future Dream Job to Fall Back On (if I should fail at being a bestselling author, which is my Ultimate Dream Job) is a film critic? Heh, heh. In my author's notes I'm probably going to spend a lot of my time droning on about my interests. I've said it before and I'll say it again, I don't care if you think my taste bites.
Ooooh, guess what? I don't know if Weezer is a mainstream band in the US (as I'm an Aussie... well, technically I'm an Aussie who was born in England and emigrated when I was four, so I have a really peculiar approximation of an Australian accent because of being around my English parents and... things) but if you can, dear readers, try and get hold of their song In The Garage. Or at least look at the lyrics, because you'll find a very pleasant X-Men surprise in the first verse. Plus the song couldn't be more kick-ass if it tried, but that's not the point.
I don't know how to explain the fact that Rogue is in an English class with Duncan, Scott, Paul and Taryn. 'Cause in Untouchable-verse, in this particular chapter, Rogue is nearly sixteen. (She's gunna have her birthday in the Speed and Spyke chapter.) Maybe the Ditz, the Loser, the Poser (Duncan, ya dig?) and, erm, Scott are all just really dumb, eh?
Oh, and atormcloud3: I'm afraid The Hermione Granger Fan Club isn't actually a real club. See, when I joined this site years ago I had about a million names I wanted to use, but I couldn't pick one. All the names reflected different sides of my personality and different interests of mine, so to pick just one felt... weird. Like favouritism. So I decided on The Hermione Granger Fan Club and made all the different names into the members. You're not the first person who's asked to join, actually. :)