Lucky Me

Chapter 030


It stunk!

Literally! I walked into my room after school and about lost what little lunch I had. It smelt rotten in there! I slammed the door shut and ran across the hall to breathe again. It was so gross! And somehow it hadn't leaked into the rest of the hall. And if anyone has ever smelled something so nasty that it took all your strength to convince yourself to go back to the place of stinkdom and hunt out the source then they know how I felt.

I had to keep reminding myself that if I went in and got the whatever out, that it would be better than asking for a different room, and certainly better than spending the night in D-M's room. So I took a deep breath and charged in my room, and before my face turned blue and my stomach turned inside out, I found the source.

Half of a watermelon.

Rotten and cut open down the middle and left under my bed.

Along with a computerized smiley face that was apparently left as someone's calling card.

I noticed later, after the stink bomb was thrown out my window and right onto the Professor's balcony (I kept forgetting about that, it apparently almost hit him because he called me right after in my mind rather loudly to come clean it up), and that Chris' phone was missing.

Someone that left his calling card so cleverly sure didn't have the brains to stop me from taking one good guess at who the prankster was.

The boy was goin' down.


In the middle of the night I sat up straight in my bed, and only one thought pounded in my mind.

Get to the bathroom now!

And I followed my stomach! And it followed my feet straight into the bathroom, where I had to bump into someone.

"Hey Kook-ooaff!" Was all I heard from the person I politely moved (slammed into the door) as I skidded, hit my knees, and promptly started to give back to the world everything I eaten that day.

It was so disgusting having it happen, not to mention embarrassing that I was wondering how long it had been since they cleaned the toilets, but the person I had rammed into on my way in decided to be nice and hold my hair back. He pulled my hair back from my face because my hands were too busy gripping the side of the 'porcelain god'. It took all I had not to wonder if anything had grown under the seat and now was being transferred to my fingers.

"Ugh, this is disgusting."

Oh, you think? I thought I was barfing rainbows and unicorns. He continued to make disgusted noises and little comments about how much I eat. I would have gotten mad, or laughed, but you really don't want to see the result of either by a vomiting person-it's not pretty.

Like anything about a situation like this was pretty!

Once I was done, and caught my breath I was thankful I had nothing left to be sick with because everyone knows how nasty it smells. Shaking, I turned around and before I could say anything he told me to very bluntly that he didn't want to hear anything from me until I washed my mouth out, to 'spare his nose'. What a nice guy (couldn't you feel my eyes roll?).

After I washed out the nasty taste from my mouth with someone else's mouth wash that I didn't think they ever used (because it was sort of discolored and had dust on it). I shook my head, trying to make the images, which led me here, go away.

"Besides disgusting, what was all that about?"

Mr. Compassionate, let me tell you!

"I had a bad dream." It was partly true. I had a bad dream and a horrible memory in between the bad dreams.

"One hell of a dream," he commented half-heartedly.

"You have no idea," I muttered. It was more than a week ago my mom called and the nightmares were only getting worse. If they kept up I didn't doubt Professor Xavier would get wise to them and want me to 'talk them over'.

"Then give me one." I looked at him funny. "Give me an idea about, uh, this," he clarified, tipping his head toward the toilet.

It was probably close to four in the morning, no one else was around, Mr. Remy and Mr. Logan (the late nighters), had recently been lectured about appropriate hours in which to come in or they could sleep on the stoop. And the others were probably still in bed, or down in their labs playing mad scientist. I had to tell someone, or I'd never be able to eat again and keep it down.

Except cookies, I could always eat cookies.

"It was about my family." I sighed and looked back at him; he leaned against a shower stall door and raised his eyebrow. "My mom—called me."

"What?" Okay, you could just imagine the disbelief. I hadn't told anyone and everyone knew about her having a hand in the sentinel attack.

"My mom called me," I repeated, I felt my frown getting deeper. My anger was coming back threefold.

"What did she have to say?"

"Nothing much. Just wanted the school's address, and wanted to know how I was, I said fine and she hung up after that." Yeah, yeah, yeah, why get so emotional over such a lack of conversation. Have your mother ignore you for half a year, finally call, ask two questions, get the answers and then hang up. Trust me you'd be a wee bit annoyed and angry and upset and flipping people across the weight room, too. "I'm going to bed. I don't want to talk about it anymore."

I began to leave when: "Uh, Kerry," I turned around to see him tapping the handle of the toilet with a very worried expression on his face. "Kookie, we have a problem."

"What?" I asked half-way out the door and to fresh air.

"It won't flush."


I could just hurt myself!

Just fly out the window and forget to open my wings.

I was just such a genius sometimes that I did hurt myself.

Number one rule in some book about this crazy teenaged stuff that I never got into was probably 'lie about it' because if you didn't you'd get doped into doing something so dumb that you wished you could beat your head against a brick.

What the heck was I talking about?

The dance D-M was so thrilled with, that she insisted we go shop especially for, the Welcome Back dance. Apparently you had to go in couples, either with a date or friend. Me being the moron that I tended to be without thinking about it (I was more of one when I did think about it, now that I think about it, but that's just going to lead to trouble) I didn't realize a set-up conversation when I heard one and participated in it!

But before that, let me tell you about someone I met earlier on Tuesday. This girl's name was Nikki Johansen. She was Daisy-Mae's friend, and sometimes referred to as Nikki-Jo. I had no idea what was with the cutesy names and such, but back to our meeting. I was dragging my feet getting to Western Civ. with the Hitler of the school, Mr. Poovey (it sounded like something out of a puppy's back end if you asked me), when I ran into D-M and this Nikki girl.

"Oh! Niks, this is Kookie, oh, Ah mean Kerry," she said smiling and doing that hugging shoulder thing to me. This girl was more likely to be at the mansion than I was. She was tall, thin, long curly (perfectly, not one stinkin' strand out of place!) blonde hair, and just all around a pretty girl. I didn't like her because of that, but those types of dislikes are short lived. I mean, I lived with beauty models, ones who could put Miss Universe to shame on their worst days, so I learned to let it go.

"You're Kerry?" Oh-kay, note in the voice was not a happy one. That supposed 'woman's intuition' or something kicked in. "Huh, I expected a little-more."

I was lost. More? Did she want me to turn off my image inducer and show her my wings? What more was she talking about? More hip? More skirt? More of a Miss Moo? More what?

"Kerry's really cool once you get to know her," D-M pointed out, which, I might add, was the first time I could clearly remember being referred to as 'cool' by anyone other than my little sister. But I didn't want to start thinking about that, I'd start judo flipping people every which way, and with all the girls that where in the hall yakking, it would look like a Justin Beiber concert with all the girls flying every way.

And more what?

"Uh-huh, I'm so sure. I'm going to be late, see you around Dais."

And then me and D-M went to class, but not before she shrugged at 'Niks' attitude and said she had a reason for not liking me, and that she'd tell me later.

This led up to the utterly stupid thing I fell for like a complete and total moron. But why give you that conversation when I could just remember how my 'friends' reacted to the news? Because as soon as D-M found out (me and my big mouth, if my foot wasn't always in it, it leaked information that was wiser to conceal) she announced it.

I needed to become a mute.


"You're going with who?" I glared at Chris, and turned my nose up in the air like a true Miss Priss. "I can't believe you doped him into taking you!"

I growled my own little pathetic growl, "I didn't ask him. He tricked me."

"A guy tricked you into going to the dance with him?" Adam's asked, bewildered.

"Yeah," For the second time that week, I should have realized a set up conversation when I started to walk into it.

"I thought you were supposed to be learning strategy to do that to other person, not to have it done to you." I glared at him, his eyebrows rose above his glasses before he shrugged and went back to his book.

"It seems like you could take lessons from Kenney, Kookie," D-M put out there, "Of course, maybe you willingly fell for it, eh?" She nudged me with her elbow and winked.

Oh yeah, I wanted to be asked by that creep to the dance. Oh yeah, sure that's exactly right. I couldn't stand-okay, so I'd learned to stand him, but that did not mean I liked him. I still had enough of my sanity to be incapable of that!


"You are just bein' stubborn, girl," Miss Rogue fussed. She was about to start yelling, and Miss Oreo had tried every approach known to man to get me to bend, but there was just no way I was ever going to wear that thing they had the nerve to call a uniform. Sure Miss Rogue wore a skin tight green cat suit, but hers at least covered everything!

"It is for your benefit to wear the uniform," Miss Oreo tried again. Oh yeah, sure for my benefit! To what, have it ride up in unpleasant places? I think it benefited the guys more because they got a free show! I just crossed my arms in defiance, but no matter what, it was taking everything inside me not to let my knees and will buckle in front of them. I was stubborn, but I was also very compliant.

"Let her have it her way," Mrs. Jean (also in skin tight spandex) said, walking out of the locker room. She's a red head, and I'd seen her lose her temper. She didn't go for people not agreeing with her, so why the sudden change of heart?

"Fine, be stubborn!" Miss Rogue flung her arms in the air, following Mrs. Jean.

"Report to the Danger Room then, Kerry."


"I got the perfect name for that session…Kookie-exposed!"

Yeah, laugh it up you uncaring meanie! Adam and the others could joke about it but what the heck was I supposed to do? They set me up! Those XXX-Men had things rigged so they got their way by friend or foe. You did it their way or you did it their way.

"What's wrong, Kerry? Didn't you like that session?" Chris kept on. "I know more about you now than I ever wanted to."

"You should have just put on the uniform, shugah." Miss Rogue pointed out, as she and a few others of the upperclassmen walked by, shaking their heads and laughing at my blood red face.

They were so cruel!

I went into the Danger Room and they set me up! I was in a lose T-shirt (the same borrowed one from before, but washed) and jeans. This time they had us in a giant clock like thing, this was to 'show us the necessary reasons for having the style of uniforms' they designed. And this was the only clock in creation big enough to incorporate cannons into its mechanisms.

Cannons in a clock…that's some alarm!

This was where they got sneaky, I don't know who aimed the cannon at me, but it was, and I got hit. I was actually slammed into the gears, but they didn't give, oh no, instead the gears grabbed a hold of my clothes!

I wasn't talking about it chocking me, which would have been a blessing; instead I had the clothes ripped off of me! I just stood there in my bare essentials, course I covered myself with my wings as quickly as possible while I transformed into a giant tomato of embarrassment.

"I trust the session on Saturday, you will be properly attired?" Professor asked with a hint of amusement in his voice but that was it. A hint. Like I had a choice? It was either the black swimsuit thing, or have no clothes at all (underwear and a bra was pretty bare to me)!

Nodding, I tightened the borrowed jacket from Adrian (his uniform was one of the only ones with a jacket) and tried to escape the torment from my team.

"I think they need to up those training sessions, Chunky-flying-monkey butt." Chris smirked when as I went redder (don't ask me how, I just did). D-M slapped him on his arm (hard!) and told him to grow up. "Don'tcha agree with me, Adrian?"

"I think she looks pretty good."

Silence.

"Uh-wait, I-I-"

"Too late, dude. You're caught!" Adam poked him in the shoulder, with a huge grin on his face.

I was still in shock. What was wrong with Adrian?

But at least someone else was blushing along with me, but what did he mean? He was just being a friend, yeah, that's right, just a friendly little thing to say. Right?

Right.