Well, I must admit it is kinda funny, I mean the whole situation is totallyridiculous. Even looking at Kurt, I can't stop the giggle that escapes my mouth. Sadly, the humor of the entire situation still hasn't dawned on him (somehow I kind of knew it wouldn't, so much for being optimistic). I decide it would be a good idea to make my exit now, before Kurt decides to go a psychotic-killer on me.

I edge toward the door, past a still visibly shaken Kurt. I see Amanda give a small, hush-hush wave as I turn the doorknob.

I attempt a small reconciliation, "Uh, Kurt, I'm really---"

He cuts me off with a wave of his tail (somehow his hands just wouldn't achieve the same affect as a prehensile tail), "Just go, Kitty."

You don't have to tell me twice. I move silently out the door, casting one last hopeful glance at Kurt. Boom! And with that, any chance of smoothing things over closes with his door. Walking away, I can hear Amanda reprimanding Kurt for his behavior. I can feel myself smiling; if I thought I had it bad from Kurt, he has it ten times worst: there's nothing like the wrath of a mad girlfriend. May God have mercy on Kurt's soul. In the back of my mind, I make a mental note to make Kurt some of my banana-nut muffins. A perfect apology gift.

Before I know it I've phased through my bedroom door. Rogue, as ever, is still out like a lamp. I swear that woman could sleep through a hurricane (and I'm talking about those big ones that get named and kill like hundreds of people). Why would I have thought otherwise, I have no idea. Making as little noise as possible, I slip off my clothes and back into my crumbled up pink-power ranger (hey, I was a kid once too) pajamas. As I close my eyes, I think I can see a slit of yellowish sunlight filtering through the curtains.

The next time I'm brought into consciousness, it's by the most unlikely person…Rogue. For a moment, I think I'm still dreaming (I mean wouldn't you?), until she pushes me off the bed with a less than good-morning-sleepyhead shove. The small pain registering in my butt pops me into reality. When I stand up (finally after four times of being wrapped up in sheets and falling), Rogue's smirking, the vampire red lipstick and pale makeup she has on producing a really creepy effect. I try to repress a shudder. What is it about Rogue smiling that reminds me of the old Dracula horror movies?

I rub my eyes, partly to get rid of eye-boogers and partly to keep from having to see Rouge's sadistic smile.

I feel a poke in my arm, "Come on slow poke, were gonna be late. Class starts in fifteen minutes. Betta gets a move on."

Fifteen minutes! I could strangle her. I know she could have woken me up earlier. She's already completely dressed in her reveling black mesh top and black hip-huggers. For someone who's dangerous to touch, she's always inviting the temptation. Plus, her hair is already done (well if you could call her 'style don't' done).

Instead of my initial plan to strangle Rogue (which seems a little risky), I settle for rolling my eyes and grabbing my clothes from the dresser. A fleeting look of surprise crosses Rogue's face (of course she's back to her gargoyle mask in seconds), probably due to the fact that I'm dressing without a shower. For some reason I take a small amount of pleasure in her confusion. Pulling the band more tightly around my ponytail, I give Rogue my biggest smile.

"Thanks for waking me up. Now come on, we don't want to be late. I'd hate for you to miss getting a chance to turn in last's night's homework to the professor. I know how much you love thousand word essays on the 'complex relationship between mental and physical powers of the altered homo sapiens'. Wouldn't want you to not get a chance to turn in all that hard work right?"

Bingo! Rogue looked absolutely ready to commit mass murder. She and I knew full well that she hadn't even tried to do the assigned essay. Rogue's not exactly Harvard Law material, if you know what I mean. The essay was a major part of our grade and Rogue was definitely going to have to sweet talk herself out of an F (something that wasn't too easy for her, being not to polite. And kissing butt, wasn't I'm pretty, sure on her list of things to do) I could feel myself smirking as the color flooded her cheeks, a sign for me to not push the issue further. With alerted caution, I slid pass Rouge at a pace only slightly less than a sprint.

I melted into the sea of faces in the main hall. Trying roughly not to get stepped on by a student, Timothy, who's about tall as a sequoia(yea, I take biology, so what?) tree. The sound of high-heels, cheap Payless sneaks, and expensive Timberlands echo through the halls. Everyone is talking, laughing, and there's the occasional jerk trying to pants someone as I make it into the professor's class on the first floor. I slid into the classrooms with a few bumps, other than that I'm relatively unharmed. The class is already half-full. I give a small wave to a group of girls I see everyday in the halls, and take my seat.

Ah the pleasure of being seated around stupid, hormone-driven, acne ridden teenagers, I feel like the luckiest girl in the world-not! The professor, as always, is already seated smiling at the class as if were about to go on vacation. On the board he's using his telepathy to write, "Good Morning Class-Please start the bell work." I glare at the clock trying to force the minute hand to speed up. It's stares back unphased. About a foot in front of me I see a paper airplane whiz by. It's stops dead in midair.

"Mr. Roberts could you please refrain from projecting objects across the room," Xavier's voice is firm,although I can see the corners of his mouth turning up.

I glance over to see James slumped in his seat, mumbling an embarrassed apology. A small wave of giggles erupts from some of the girls in the back as the professor glides the plane in the trash (though not before showing off with a triple-loop).

"Thank you, Mr. Roberts."

If it were possible to die of boredom, I'd be six feet under already. I only half-listen as the professor drones on about "the molecular structure of mutant genes". Like I care! I know all I need to know about mutant genes: I have them, they suck, and they make me a freak to the outside world, end of story. Nevertheless, the professor either seems not to notice my uninterested stare or chooses to ignore it. It doesn't matter, the scene that's taking place outside the window is much more interesting.

Ah, there is a God, and he must have a sense of humor. Only feet away from my window, is the 1st period boys gym class. Kurt, Bobby, Evan, Damon, and the new guy, Sheriff (don't ask he's from Bosnia) are running up and down the court playing some serious ball. For some reason the idea of chasing a circular piece of rubber just got much more…appealing. Sweat, abs, and semi-tight athletic shorts, the whole picture looks like an ad for BOD deodorant spray. It sure beats the structure of mutant genes, any day.

The guys look like models for Calvin Klein, no shirt, lots of muscle, and peeking underwear. I have to hand it to the mutant gene; it gives guys a helluva leg up on the competition (as far as bodies go). I feel the inside of my mouth go dry. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I can hear Olivia Newton John's cardio inspired Physical. They guys fight for the ball, limbs hitting limbs, sweat against sweat. Like totally frickin' awesome.

The physical anatomy of the guy species is wonderful. I have a new appreciation for the male body. And that Sheriff guy is so hot! No, I mean like seriously. He's like burning building hot. He's tall about 6'0, with dark brown hair (in a totally retro streaked Mohawk), long tanned arms, and a nice carved six-pack (not as nice as Kurt's, but I mean the guy is an acrobat, how can you compete with that?). Plus he speaks with this really hot (although totally thick) Bosnian accent, can you blame me if I'm nearly swooning.

For a split second our eyes connect. He's smiling, reveling one missing tooth (oh well, no ones perfect). Oh my God, I think I really am going to faint. Those dark eyes are so…hypnotizing. Then the split second is over, and he's slammed into the ground by Evan. Just my luck! I make of love connection, and Evan the operator, disconnects it. Life truly sucks some time.

Before I realize it, the class bell rings. Students rush out of the room, so quickly their only passing blurs.

"Remember class, review chapters 34 and 35 of your books. There's no homework, but I'd like you to have a basic feel of the next lesson. Oh and Rogue, try not to forget to turn in your assignment, you have one more day (I was in la-la land so deep, I missed Rogue's homework excuse). Enjoy your weekend class. See you bright and early on Monday."

The entire class (except me of course I'm still reeling from the guy-basketball-drool experience) is out of the class before the professor can finish his goodbye. Rogue rushes past me so quickly you'd think she was being chased by a pack of rabid dogs (but I mean I really can't blame her).

I'm almost home free when I hear, "Ms. Pryde, could I please have a word with you?"

I can feel my face mash up in a frown (mom says I shouldn't do that, something about causing premature wrinkles), what have I done now?

"Yes, professor?" I say hoping my to keep my voice even.

Sitting behind his big mahogany chair, I get more than the nagging feeling that the professor is reading my mind (there should be a law against that…seriously). For a moment he just stares at me with this small smirk on his face. Again, very creepy.

"Uh, professor," I decide to snap him out of his little mind reading thing.

He coughs and straightens his coffee stained tie, "Ah yes, it has come to my attention Ms. Pryde that you weren't exactly thrilled with my lesson today. Am I correct?"

I don't know whether to flat-out die where I stand, or save some humility and what until I can slump into the bathroom. My teacher, and not just any teacher, the professor, knows I've been eying guys during his class. Big, no no!

"Well, um, you see, what happened was—"

Thankfully, the professor silences me, before I can become a stuttering idiot and make an even bigger fool out of myself.

"It's alright Kitty, just please do try and pay some attention in class. I'll let you off easy this time. Semester exams are right around the corner, in case you've forgotten."

Then he does this thing where he pins me with this you-should-know-better-Kitty stare. I absolutely hate it, he has this way of making you feel super guilty about something without ever saying anything. Somehow, my eyes seem to land on my feet.

"Your right professor, I'm sorry. Monday, I am totally going to pay attention in your class. I'll pay like the most attention in your class that anyone ever paid, or is that person would ever pay, or maybe it's—"

"I got it Kitty. Now run along, I wouldn't want you to be late to your next class, Ororo isn't anywhere near as lenient as I am."

Whew! Saved by the telepath (ha, I kinda like that, it's way more catchy than that lame Saved by the bell. But I must admit, that Zack was way hot!). I zoom out of the door and throw a sorry goodbye behind me. I stay just long enough, to here the professor laugh and remind himself to pick up some…BOD? Hmm, it's a small world after all. If I hurry, I can still catch the boys' gym class, and I completely intend to. Hi ho silver…away!

Sprinting down the hallway, I burst out of the front doors. My books for my next class, slap my leg as I do a Marion Jones across the lawn. The sun is high, and I can already feel my skin starting to burn. Damn sensitive skin! There's no time for worrying about that, I can just see the back of Sheriff's head. With a burst off speed, I close the distance between me and the group of sweating hotties.

Before I can come to a complete stop, my foot hits something hard and I fall face first into…tanned brown arms? I glance up to see Sheriff is standing over me looking concerned. Oh man, did everyone just see me wipeout? I look around the court and meet every pair of eyes, oh yea they saw it.

"Kitty are you ok," Sheriff asks, "cause you took quite a trip there."

"Uh, yea. Thanks, for catching me and all." Why do all of a sudden I feel like, I'm a twelve year old girl seeing her crush? I smooth down my skirt (hoping to God no one saw my care bear undies) and shake the hair out of my eyes. I look around and see the other guys putting up the equipment. Expectedly, Kurt won't meet my eyes. Sheriff's still looking at me.

"Your more than welcome. I'm glad I ran into you, or rather you ran into me, I wanted to talk to you."

Wait! Rewind…did Sheriff Termini just say he wanted to talk to me? Kitty Pryde? A fifteen year old girl with a startling obsession with pink, who eats no more than 1500 calories a day, and picks the raisins out of here raisin bread? I just sit flustered on the pavement, not moving, barely breathing.

In my mind, I picture myself standing up (gracefully) and looking down at Sheriff. My pink Vera Wang gown shimmers. I can see him crouched on one knee. Digging into his tuxedo pocket, he pulls out, a small velvet case. The top is opened to revel a huge pink diamond on a gold band.

"Katherine Marie Pryde, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife? I have a plan waiting to take us to my remote villa in Bosnia, where we shall live happily ever after, dismissing the fact that both of us are mutant high school students with no substantial money."

I allow the ring to be placed on my finger, "Yes, yes of course I'll marry you Sheriff. I wanted you to ask since like forever!" He stands up, we kiss passionately, and a choir breaks out as the scene fades.

"Hellooooo, Kitty are you listening to me?"

I shake my head and smiles, "Sorry, I'm kinda dazed, what were you saying?"

He laughs, I like his laugh not too deep not too high, just right. "I just asked you is you wanted to go out with me on tomorrow. Saturdays my only free day, I have to work on Sunday," he stops blushing slightly, "I just found this really great new club and I heard you were a great dancer, so…what ya say?"

What do I say? How about, Yes, yes, and Yes! I cannot believe my ears, Sheriff Termini just asked me out, please somebody pinch me. I shake my head to make sure I'm not hearing things. Sheriff is still in front of my waiting on an answer. I try and compose myself.

"Sure Sheriff, I would love too," that's all that I can get out before my voice starts to crack.

He helps me up, "Cool. How about I pick you up around nine?"

I barely manage a nod.

He beams, "Alright, pick you up at nine. Be there or be square (corny I know, but I mean it's Sheriff).

"It's a date."

He turns and strolls away with three guys I don't know. Before disappearing, he gives me a casual wave. I can't resist, I jump up and down until my skirt starts to fly up. Breathing hard I start to walk off the court. Kurt catches up to me.

"Whoa. Kitty's got a date, Kitty's got a date," he says in a singsong voice. I give him a playfully pinch on the arm, but I don't deny it. All traces of anger are gone; he's back to fun-loving Kurt (typical he never stays mad very long). It's as if this morning didn't happen.

"Kitty and Sheriff sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G, first comes love then comes marriage then comes Kitty with a baby carriage." Kurt teases.

Kurt's teasing doesn't even make me the least bit upset (like it usually would if we were talking about Lance); I too busy floating on cloud nine. What should I wear? How should I do my hair? What kind of car does he have?

The soft sound of Kurt's pouting interrupts me. I finally really notice him. Kurt's rolling his eyes and actually pouting. When I take in his appearance, I can't believe I didn't notice him at first. Indigo hair is plastered all over his blue chest. Abs contorting hard with the deep breaths he's taking. The gold cross he usually wears is turned around and crooked. There's sweat on every inch I can see (and I'm sure on some places I can't). His gray boxers are showing faintly over the top of his jeans. That's when I wonder: Dear God, do I have the hots for my best friend?

Oblivious to my silent dilemma Kurt tugs on my ear, "Well have a good time little Kitty and don't do anything I wouldn't do," he smiles bare-fanged at his ironic joke. I'm reminded that I just scored a date with hunky Sheriff. Jeez, Kitty get a hold of yourself.

I finally snap out of it, "Thanks, I will…I mean I won't. I mean…oh just go!"

A grin appears across his face, "Hurry up, you're going to be super late to Mrs. Munroe's class." He bamfs.

Now he's left me to the wraith of Ororo Munroe, something trust me no one wants to face. Mental note: no banana nut cookies for Kurt. By now I think were even (or at least the punishing I'll get from Ororo will make it even). I straighten myself out and rush to the mansion. I barely notice as I phase through wall after wall.

The tongue-lashing I'll get from Ororo doesn't even bother me; I mean I have a date with one of the hottest guys in school (would it bother you? -didn't think so). Besides I'll just tune her out. Think along the lines of Charlie Brown, blah blah blah blah!

I rush through the (thankfully) empty halls, trying to avoid another chance encounter with the pavement. To bad, that chance encounter happens (doesn't it always) anyways. As I hit the ground(a little like clumsy today, huh?) and am pulled up by a(nother) strong pair of arms(if I'm lucky it's another hot guy come to my rescue), A thought occurs to me, perhaps dreams do come true. The thought's squashed as I look into the grinning face of Lance Alvers.

Author's Note(s): Hey readers, I decided to start using the little author's notes at the bottom of my finished chapters. Here I'll answer an questions about the chapters or comments. Sorry it took so long for a new chapter, but Ihaven't forgotten about it.I really hope you enjoyed this chapter(as well as the rest of the story). And as always, theres much more to come. Stay tuned. Leave a review!