Lucky Me

Chapter 054


I huffed, "Do I really have to do this?"

Storm gave me a sympathetic smile, "Yes, child."

"Couldn't I just throw it out there and let them figure it out?" I asked hopefully. I really didn't want to do this, anyone catch that? It was radiating off of me like the rancid body odor that permeated the boys' locker room.

"It's not hard." Yeah, then you could do it. Scott laid a hand on my shoulder and I tensed up (more than I already was and my shoulders were practically part of my skull since they were so drawn to me). "Go on, Blyt."

With shoulders slumping (and the song 'Do Your Ears Hang Low' barging into my mind) I walked into the Rec. room where most everyone was waiting. Great, I thought I was just going to have to do this in front of my team. Nope, I had to do it in front of all the current residence of the mansion! Ack, poor people. I knew telling my team the news wasn't going to be anywhere near pleasant.

When I walked in with the 'big' people of the mansion I heard every one of my team members try to suck all the air in the room into their lungs. I was holding my breath. I really didn't want to tell them.

"Spill it," Adam instructed. "Before we all go crazy."

"Too late," Bobby-Jerk shot, and Chris glared at him. Adrian looked like the old Adrian all sheepish and stuff.

"Did we pass?"

"Uh," I hung my head lower and held out my hand in their general direction. "I need your comm. link badge thingies."

"Way to be professional," Bobby-Jerk commented. I would have glared at him, but decided to give my feet a nasty look instead.

"Ohhh," D-M pouted, placing her badge in my hand first, and the other three followed. "So what now?"

"Adrian gets to tell you that." I went and sat down in a pitiful lump next to Adam on the floor.

"I do?" His was higher pitched than his normal languid tone. "I don't know anything!"

"Blyt," Scott warned, I looked up at him. "Fine, we'll tell them."

"The team did, in fact, pass, with flying colors."

"And electric bolts," Chris muttered.

"We are proud to give you your team badges." With that, they held out the new badges. They didn't seem very different from the ones they had just turned in, but the new ones were authentic, die hard ones that every other person with an X and above drinking age wore.

I still didn't want to tell them.

"Cool!" D-M squeaked, "They have, like, our codenames engraved on them!"

"Gecko?" Adam asked when Storm handed him his new badge. "Did you get inspired by the Geico commercials?" She smiled. There was a round of congratulations and the such, during the middle of Bobby-Jerk pretending to want our autographs I slunk out and up to my room.

It wasn't because my team did well, it was because they weren't my team. I also want to think of the comment said to Adrian that 'in the future, I'm sure your team will do even better'.


It was Wednesday by the time Adrian caught up with me. We lived in the same house, in the same wing, on the same hall and it took him three days to catch up with me. And not even at the house, it was at school.

"Can we talk?" That was an ever popular question with me these days. I really didn't want to talk, but I figured since he was my leader I had to listen (ick, I needed to go gargle Pine-Sol with my brain). When I said yes and we were in a 'secluded' part of the cafeteria (no funny ideas!) he began to talk. "How could you let them make me leader?"

Uh, that certainly wasn't what I expected to hear. I thought he would gloat or tear me down because I didn't let him have the control of the end of Hell Week. But, apparently, I was wrong. What did I know?

"Because you did a good job." I wasn't sure if that would constitute as a lie because that's what they said in a very roundabout way, (I think).

"B-but I've never done anything like this before!"

"Oh and like I was a pro? Please, I was always the last one chosen on the play ground. Not exactly leadership material." I rested my chin in my palm and glanced about the cafeteria. D-M and Chris were trying to get Nikki over the fact that -well, I didn't know what they were trying to do. Bobby-Jerk was standing near the lunch line with an extremely 'I am better than you' look on his face until Miss Reese began to wipe said face with her handkerchief (after she wet the material with her own spit).

"Well," he finally said to get my attention, "I guess I'll just have to do it." I looked over at Adrian as he shrugged, "Might even do a better job."

Glare into the seventh realm of Hades!

He seemed to notice my 'Glare into the seventh realm of Hades' and added, "t-than I thought I would! A better job than I thought I would!"

"Excuse me," I said in false sweetness. "I have to go and—stick my head in an oven."

"Kookie! Wait!" I turned. "I-if you want to talk about it…"

"There's always Stitch," I snapped and stomped off to find one of my none X friends.


In Mr. Drake's class, I tapped the end of my pencil as I tried to work through the quiz. Finally, after much sighing and huffing Bobby-Jerk called me out to the hall.

"Want to tell me what the machine gun pencil is about?"

"Nothing, I was just thinking."

"Sounded like you were drilling for China to me." He studied me and then sighed. "What's on your mind, kid?"

Gummy bears and grenades!

I bristled. "If you knew what was on my mind, you'd send me to the office."

One eyebrow shot up. "That graphic?"

I didn't reply.

"Listen, Kookie, if you want to talk…"

"Let me guess, go and talk to someone who cares?"

"Uh, not exactly."

"If I want to talk about my non-existent problem, I have a friend who there for me." Which apparently meant I'd have to drudge him up from the depths of my closet (poor Stitch). Then I saw him (Bobby) turn and scratch the back of his head. Ouch. I forgot, Adrian hit him there. It wasn't too obvious unless you knew where to look. D-M had patched him up again after she rested, but there was still a scar. "H-how are you?"

Mr. Drake caught my gaze.

"Now you care?" So I got busy with being tricky and trying to win! "I'm fine, get back to class and no tapping or I'll take your pencil away."

"What am I supposed to do? Write in blood?"

He shrugged. "As long as you don't die, why not?"

Jerk!

Mr. Drake and Adrian were in the same Jerk boat!


The following Saturday, I was back at the boathouse door, about to knock when Jean opened it suddenly, "Come in, Kookie."

You'd think after so long, I'd be accustomed to telepaths and their knowing stuff, but I wasn't. I still liked to believe I was part of the real world, and the real world didn't have people with wings or people who could read thoughts.

"Uh, I just came because I left some stuff." Jean smiled and nodded saying she had to leave to do some shopping and that Scott was still there (who groaned at the word 'shop'). So she was off and with a quick 'hi' I ran up the stairs to the room I had stayed bunked in over Christmas.

I guessed after getting caught up in Hell Week, being demoted while the team I was part of was promoted, I forgot most of my stuff at the boathouse. Okay, so not most my stuff, but more importantly, I had left my Dad's gift to me.

Throwing things into my duffle bag (which was nicely folded on the dresser before I laid hands on it) I jammed as much as I could into it. There was more junk in there than I originally thought!

There were some things of Darcy's but I ignored the tugging in my mind and just mixed it in with my stuff. But the one blasted thing I wanted to find…I couldn't.

"No, no, no, no," I chanted as I ripped the bedding apart. I knew it wouldn't be there, the sheets had been changed since I slept at the house. I checked under the dresser, in the dresser and even ventured into the bathroom (bad memories) and picked apart in there.

No take.

It was gone. I felt my stomach bottom out at that thought. It had to be here. We might be the 'evolutionary' link but to my knowledge little black boxes did not sprout legs yet. Wouldn't that have been my luck to be the first one to witness it? Worse than spiders! Running jewelry boxes!

Okay, so maybe the stress of starting school was getting to me.

"Where is it?" I asked to no one. Surprisingly, no one answered. I huffed and tipped over the side of the bed until my head was on the ground and the rest of me was leaning over the bed (aka my rear end was up and I felt the blood go to my face).

I heard a laugh and dumb me tried to look, but this threw off my balance. I ended up flipping off the bed and landing in an ungraceful heap looking up at Scott as he smiled down at me. He was either putting laundry up or he was really weird about towels. "Do I want to know?"

"Just getting, uh, some practice in." I gave a semi-smile at which he shook his head and left me to my antics.

Dad's gift had to be around here somewhere!

Darcy wouldn't take it; she was too much of a 'goody-two-shoes' to ever steal something. She had a problem with taking free samples at the grocery store! She was perfect, we used to fight when one of my CDs ended up in her disc player, but it was 'borrowing' not stealing (technically—or so she claimed).

Of all the blasted things I could have lost, why did it have to be Dad's gift?

Why couldn't I lose D-M's gift of a 'black book' which Chris stole and gave back to me full of cartoon characters. From Donald Duck to Emperor Zim (I was more impressed that he knew so many cartoons than anything else, I mean come on-a black book! What was I going to do with it?).

Where had I put that thing? Gah, That's it! When (if) I found it, I was going to amputate those pesky legs it must have grown. Dad would probably roll his eyes and say it's typical of me. I was always losing things…okay, new path of thought.

Where was it! I wanted my Dad's gift!

After another seven or so minutes of going through the room eight hundred million more times and not finding it, the frustration and fear was starting to blister my brain. It must have because in my fit, I shouted.

"Dad!"

Oh, bug.

I felt like I just willing stood in front of Husk and said I was going to run to Las Vegas and elope with Mr. Warren.

Instant death (or petty hair pulling) was guaranteed.

I waited in dead silence. Maybe Scott hadn't heard me?

I would be so happy if Scott hadn't heard me.

My heart turned into instant ice when I heard some floorboards creak. Maybe he had more towels to put up?

Yeah! That made sense! That meant I wouldn't be embarrassed! That meant I would be—

"You-yelled?"

—way too lucky.

By the time I found my voice (probably ran off with my legged jewelry box and was laughing it up in Tahiti or somewhere like that) I stopped making dumb hand jesters trying to get him to understand and instead started to stutter like I was going on a first date (I've had one and that counts!), "H-h-have you s-seen my, huh, I left uh, a jewelry box-here?"

My face was red because I was doing my over-the-bed acrobatics again so he couldn't see the blush.

"That was yours?" Hello! This wasn't a hotel, who else slept in his house? "Someone came and picked it up."

Who the heck else knew about it?

"Who?"

I was praying that this would make him forget about the whole I-called-you-dad-while-completely-lucid thing. Hopefully, he just heard my voice and responded to my raised voice (but I was also grumbling the entire time I was in there, man, I was so embarrassed). Then Scott said his name.

My mouth dropped to the floor.

"What did he want with it?"

Scott shrugged, turned to leave and then threw over his shoulder, "He said he was going to give it to you, take it up with him."

Talk to him or not get my dad's gift back. Or there was the third option of waiting until he was out of his room and I could sneak in and look for it.

But, something odd occurred to me, as weirded out as I was about calling Scott 'Dad', he didn't seem to think anything about it at all.


"So why were you so depressed when we got our new nametag badge thingies?" D-M asked two weeks after we had gotten them. We were stuffed into the school bus heading to the high school. It was too early in the morning to poke and prod me; my defenses were with Stitch, still warm and peacefully asleep in my bed. "We passed, that was good news."

"I don't want to tell you."

"Stubborn. Why not?" She was so dang pushy and pretty soon the other two from our team were practically in our seats trying to hear what 'news' I was withholding.

"Don't want to say, and you can't make me." Bratty reply, but one that usually always worked. Usually.

"I can." Adrian's smile was so-argh! "In fact, I order, you to tell us."

"Jerk," I muttered and then let out a long sigh. "Fine, if you must know we were given a team name."

They stared at me.

"Well?" Chris actually wasn't sounding too bored about life. "This whole suspense thing is overrated."

"Sort of like guys' emotions," D-M shot and then turned to me. "Why didn't you tell us earlier?"

"Because the name is dumb," I bemoaned, I didn't fight about it with the Professor. I wasn't leader anymore. I didn't have a right to fight with the snotty people in charge (I was not bitter).

"It can't be that dumb. Sam told me they were called the New Mutants, what could be worse than that?" Adrian tried to be reassuring, but I glared at him and he cowered.

"What is it? X-Bait? X-tras?" Chris gave a short laugh to his own dumb names. "X-Rated?"

"X-" I rolled my eyes, "We are going to be known as the X-Citers."

For a moment they didn't say anything. D-M looked at me blankly (yes, that was a different expression than what she normally wore). Adrian just sat back in his seat. It was old faithful, mouthy Chris who just made the day by piping off: "We sound like freaking porn stars!"

The entire bus heard him.

Oh, save me…