Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing.
Just to warn you, my knowledge on this is limited so if I need correcting, feel free to point it out. Angelique, Tori, I know you well enough to tell me about my little typo's like you did in Mental Morgue.
This is my only fic that doesn't allow flames because I don't know much on this subject. If I knew as much as most of you do on X-men, then I would allow them. Sorry. Corrections are okay, flames, no. If there's something you don't like, feel free to tell me why you don't like it.
Now since I got 13 reviews on this and people asking me to continue, here it goes!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Jean walked into the doors of Bayville High, the heels of her hooker boots clicking noisily against the tile floors of the school. She held her chin high, flashing a cheerful smile on her face that suggested she believed she was better than everyone in the entire school. Her hips swung lightly to the metronome-like clicking of her boots. This was her territory. This was where her precious victims lay.
Scott slumped after her, his hands in his pockets, attempting to look just as confident as she did. Unfortunately, all it did was make him look gay. Jean glanced over at him. "Uck, don't hunch! You look stupid! You're making me look bad!" she scoffed, elbowing him quickly.
You're making yourself look bad, you slut! He thought bitterly. That's what he wanted to say. He sighed sadly. If I only had some balls, he sang in his thoughts even more bitterly to the "if I only had a brain" tune from the Wizard of Oz.
"Hey Red, nice party yesterday!" someone called from their position in front of their lockers.
Jean winked at them and continued striding until she reached her locker. On her locker was a wallpaper of sticky notes with numbers, names and desperate suggestions for her. She grinned and opened her leather purse. She dug around in it, searching for her planner. Or what she called "the book of fun". She opened the book and matched the numbers and names with the ones she didn't have.
"Nope. Already used him. Maybe this Saturday . . .oh, Erik, lets put you down soon. I'd like to know you better, heh," she mumbled to herself while scribbling wildly in her book of fun.
Scott looked disgustedly at the proud expression etched on Jean's face. "Jean, how can you do this to me?" he said slowly. His voice shook. He never had the balls to say this much to her.
"Do what, snookums?" Jean asked, adding emphasis on her little pet name for him. She smiled appealingly at him. This was a trick she used on all males, mostly on male teachers to get out of doing homework. How she enjoyed her work.
"All this. If I'm really your snookums, how can you sit there and screw around, practically in my face! You can get all these normal people. You belong with other mutants like me. You never penciled me in for any time. Am I that worthless?" Scott felt heat rise to his face. He knew he would be punished severely for what he was doing, but once it started, it was hard to stop, much like Jean and her desire to have playtime.
Jean stared at him for a second. She tossed her hair over her shoulders. Her red 'yes, this is my natural hair color' hair seemed to symbolize her anger that was rising up. "How can you even say that to me?! I've been good to you and here you are, screaming at me like a child?!"
Her stern expression softened as tears rose to her eyes. She sniffed. "Why are you so mean to me? All I want is a cutie to stay with me to give me self-confidence and here you are trying to take all of that away." She held the book of fun to her face and sobbed into it. "That's all I want! I don't get respect here because of what I am! This is all I can do to be accepted and here to are, taking it all away!" She sniffed again. "If you don't love me, that's all you have to say!"
"I-I," Scott muttered nervously. He sighed. He patted her back and held her. Crap. Foiled again. I'm never going to win! "But you said that you were being good to me? What's all this book of fun stuff then?"
"It's how I fit in! People accept me because of what I can do. It's the only thing I'm good at without using my powers. Is that so bad?"
Yes, but it's not like I can stop you, Scott thought in defeat.
"Humph. I see that you're still treating the guy like crap," someone said.
Scott looked over to see Todd a.k.a. Toad. (I'll use Toad since I feel like it, k?)
"What do you want?" Jean asked.
"Maybe you can help me," Toad said, squatting down into his normal position. "You see, you act sort of like Wanda. Only Wanda's totally hot, sexy, beautiful, gorgeous, attractive, alluring," he began to tick more synonyms off on his fingers.
"Get to the point!" Jean snapped.
"Wanda doesn't act all slutty like you, but she doesn't realize the pure potential that I have in store for her, just as you don't realize that Scott's got no balls because you won't let him grow any."
Scott frowned mentally. That wasn't a complement.
"Anyway, even though you treat Scott like crap and here he is still trailing you like a lost, retarded puppy." Toad sighed. "It's like the relationship with me and Wanda. I worship every blade of grass, shard of glass, crushed grasshopper that she steps on, but she still won't like me. Why do you keep him with you?" He gestured to Scott.
"I mean, it's not like he's as good looking as me, right?" he continued.
Jean stared at him, mouth open wide. Her brain couldn't catch the point. Her poor, poor, fragile little mind couldn't handle Toad's gibberish. She looked at Scott. "What does he mean?"
Scott explained it to her as anyone would a 3rd grader. Jean nodded. "Oh, well, he gives me self-confidence. He's a wuss and it makes me feel better."
Toad's eyes widened. "Oh, that gives me an idea! Thanks!" He began to hop off. "Oh, Scott, if I were you and Jean was Wanda, I'd dump her like a box of laundry detergent. She's a slut and here you are going 'oh, can I watch?' See ya!"
"Hey, Scott said that when I was having fun with Duncan!" Jean called after him cheerfully. Scott slapped his forehead in frustration.
"Sounds like ya'll are having fun," Rogue said from her standpoint. "But Scott, Ah'd take the filthy thang's advice. Jean doesn't give a damn about you. How can you handle all the shit she's plowing you into?"
Scott shrugged. The ball rang, luckily, saving Scott from having an intelligent reply to Rogue's questions.
"You're a nosy bitch," Jean said to her. "If I wanna have fun, it's my problem."
"If you're gonna catch aids or gonorrhea or some crap, it is your problem, but don't pass it around Professor X's school! There ain't many of us out there and we don't need to have our population littered with trash like you."
That's what I have so far. Still interested in this fic? Then review and tell me!