There was something ever parent or guardian feared to hear from their teenage kid.
One little sentence which shipwrecked their world.
They were staring at me, coffee cups half raised and eyebrows now completely blended in with their respective hair.
"Can you repeat that?" Scott choked out, putting his coffee cup on the hallway table. I caught them on the entrance hallway before the metal tunnel to the danger room and the big cat man.
This worked like nothing I had experienced. Scott and Jean were almost dumbfounded! It was a good thing they were in such good condition or I'd have been afraid they just had a heart attack. Jean tipped her head to the side and blinked at me.
"What?" I asked, was it so unbelievable.
"What you just said. Say it again." So I did. Then, then he started to laugh nervously. "Are you serious?"
"I'm asking." I pointed out; Jean just sucked in a deep breath and let it go really slowly. "Look, I'm seventeen it's not unnatural or anything."
"But don't you think that this is—too soon?" Jean tried escaping verbally.
"No. Adrian and Chris already did it. I think even Adam did it already."
"But you're not them." And the world was thankful for that.
"No, or I would have done it already. Come on," I whined.
"We'll—talk about it later; you're going to be late for school."
I groaned in frustration and rolled my eyes. What was the big deal?
Alexis poked me with her pretzel stick. "What'd they say?"
"Before or after they were resuscitated?" Back in Home Ec. with Miss Reese, who was flipping through a Bride's magazine, I guessed Bobby-Jerk had a surprise in store for him! They weren't even dating.
"Took it that bad, huh?" Alexis asked. "Don't worry about it, I told my dad I was pregnant." Huh? "And then said that I wasn't and told him the truth. After the first shock, he was more than happy to give me what I wanted." She smiled shyly. "After I promised to never sleep with a guy, like ever."
"That might work," if he didn't totally blow it with me. But I didn't care, I was so over that guy. Nope, hardly thought about him at all. He didn't want me and I didn't give two feathers about him! "But they'd never believe it and before I could say I was joking, they'd have me in stirrups in front of a doctor." Dr. Hank and his complete physical.
"Sorry, girl."
"What are you two yakking about now?" Chris muttered, raising his head from his arm nest.
"Nothing that concerns you, Bradley," Alexis snapped, "Go back to your little disturbing fantasy."
Chris looked over at me, I avoided eye contact. I could just hear him in my head accusing me of liking Chris. I did not like Chris. I couldn't stand Sparks more than half the time! And then he gave me a semi-smile before dropping his head back into his arms.
Two days later, it was the weekend and there I was begging my 'parents' for their attention. "Please?" I started out, "Pretty please?"
Scott shifted nervously, "I don't think it's a good idea at this time."
"But if not now, then when? The sooner we start the sooner we get it over with." I reasoned, stooping as low as to give him the big eyes and pout face. I was breaking him down very slowly. He shifted on the couch and tapped his water bottle on his shoe.
"Why do you want to?" Gee, I wondered. "There are plenty of the people around here who would take you where you want to go."
"But it's about vehicular freedom!" I protested. "And maybe no one wants to go where I want to go!" I huffed and plopped down on the couch. "It's just Driver's Ed…"
He grumbled something, "You aren't going to stop until I say yes, are you?"
"I'll stop when you sign the form that says you said it was okay."
Scott sighed again. "Does this mean that we have to teach you how to drive?"
I checked the dates on the class schedule, maybe this could be payback.
"Probably, I mean it's just now the end of January and the class won't start until the beginning of April." I smiled innocently.
"Fine," He took the paper and pen from me (hey, what could I say, I made sure to be ready). "But you'll have to ask others to teach you as well. Everyday starting tomorrow."
It was after school that Scott was talking about, when Jean was told she laughed and said he needed to toughen up against the 'puppy' look.
Was I in a car? Noooo.
I was nowhere near the garage. I was in my study session with Mr. Drake, Adrian, and Chris. It took Bobby-Jerk three weeks into school to finally realize that something wasn't quite right with his grade book. And when he realized all the grades (usually penciled in) were changed permanently (thanks to me and a big black pen) he was trying to kill me with his eyes. Mr. Drake always gave us our tests, quizzes, and homework back, so there was no way to tell who was making what in his classes. I was so proud of myself. I had been making a C-, now I had an A+.
"How hard is this for you?" Adrian complained. "I have to go to those leadership classes before dinner."
I would have thought of some nasty names, but all negative energy was directed toward Bobby-Jerk and his explanations of why I couldn't get understand the math. Pig. He thought the reason I couldn't figure it out was because women were usually bad with keeping track of money, and since I was barely a girl that, of course, I would do even worse than a full grown woman.
I think he was just sore because Mr. Warren proudly presented Bobby-Jerk with a credit card bill (ya know, the credit card I got to use in order to buy all my gifts?).
"I have to go; I have CDs to burn and people to e-mail." Chris left.
Another one excused himself to say he was going to the bathroom and left me alone with him. It had been three weeks and some days and normally things didn't affect me very much (riiiight) but I still didn't know how to act around him in private. This was usually the time when he'd openly flirt with me. But now?
Now he kept his head down and didn't even spare me a glance.
"Moron," I muttered.
He looked up at that, "What?"
I crossed my arms, shrugged, and wistfully replied, "Nothing."
He rolled his eyes and was about to go back to what he was doing, then at the last second he looked at me.
"You know, I'd love to sit here and fight with you about the 'whatever' but just so you don't waste your time pining over me. I've already moved on."
I was not going to kill him. I was not going to cry. I was not going to get hurt by that. I was not!
But it was too late, I was already hurt. But I was never going to cry in front of this guy again!
He wasn't worth my time!
"Hey, girl, do you have plans next Friday?" I looked up from the cookbook I was being forced to read for Miss Reese's class. Pick any recipe (as long as it didn't end up in the form of little, uh, men).
"Not that I know of." Like the X-men got faxed schedules from the bad guys. Again, of course, I wasn't even supposed to go on mission missions with the X-Men because I wasn't the X-Citers (stop laughing) leader.
"Great, then you just got yourself a plan." Alexis dropped a flyer on my desk and went to the other side of the classroom. Picking it up, I read it and was completely confused. A 'lock-in'? At school?
After she sat down again, without me even needing to ask, Alexis went into an explanation. "It's something the school government is putting on. We get locked in and stay up all night doing stuff." She shrugged. "It was either that or another dance."
I made a face, my apprehension skyrocketing. "What kind of 'stuff'?"
"Get your mind out of the gutter, Summers," Chris bit out. I guess we woke him up. "Haven't you ever gone to one of these things before?"
"No." I looked the flyer over again, "It sounds like a prison sentence."
"Don't be like that! It's going to be cool. Mr. Drake is co-sponsor and Miss Hot-to-trot-Reese is sponsor. Mr. Drake is even getting some of his friends to come and chaperone." Say what? The X-Men as baby sitters? What was the world coming too! They might be able to handle four teenagers (Adam's 20) but a whole gym full of hormonally charged, caffeinated high schoolers?
Then, then I smirked, what a perfect Kodak moment.
"So you're coming." Nice to know what I was going to do on the weekend. "And, guess who is going to be there." I shrugged. "Adrian."
"Big deal." I scowled at the desk top. "Probably trying to get some more 'personal' time with Nikki Jo."
Alexis seemed surprised at my reaction. "What's wrong? Isn't he your guy friend or something?"
"Or something, her and little Adrian had a—falling out." Chris gave me a wicked grin, "Something she's not overly happy with."
Wednesday's driving lesson session:
First rule when driving with Scott: bring own CDs. I never thought he'd be someone who willingly listened to Justin Biever. But I put on the radio and I was blasted back by Boyfriend.
"Now you don't want to add too much pressure to the gas pedal, it's sensitive." He then went on and on about the importance of rearview mirrors and how I should always go the speed limit.
We hadn't even left the garage yet!
"Now, you don't need to check out your make-up or anything while driving, wait until you've parked. Don't slam on the brakes, don't …" He went on for another five minutes. His 'no' list was as big as Mr. Poovey's!
Sheesh, finally fed up with it, I asked, "Am I just supposed to imagine me driving?"
"It would keep insurance costs down."
Oh sure, now he got a sense of humor. I growled/sighed in annoyance and listened for the next half hour of my lesson about what to put in the glove box, the trunk, how and where to park, yadda yadda yadda bored me to tears.
Thursday's driving lesson:
First rule when driving with Miss Rogue: Do not drive with Miss Rogue!
She was insane behind the wheel as she showed me how to drive. The car spent most the time on the wrong side of the road because she couldn't stand to go slow and passed up every car that was dumb enough to get in front of her.
When we finally made it back the mansion an hour later, I fell out of the car and kissed the pavement. I was alive! I had been in the passenger seat on the bullet train to heck and lived!
Friday's Driving Lesson:
First rule when driving with Mr. Remy: don't use his car, apparently he didn't pull over for cops and he had several warrants for speeding, reckless driving, and so on, you name it he had it.
I was finally behind the wheel, creeping up to the proper speed limit and feeling a tad nervous when a cop pulled up behind us and didn't pass (I was going ten under, after Miss Rogue, I was too scared to even consider of speeding). Mr. Remy was cool, just telling me occasionally to straighten up and stuff, and then the cop put on his lights.
Suddenly Mr. Remy became a devil. His head whipped back to see the cop, cursed as he grabbed the wheel and made an impossibly sharp turn on to one of the back streets. I was too shocked to obey his 'gas it' command so he pushed down hard on my leg and sent us careening (to our deaths I was sure) down a dirt road and the cop tried to stay up with us, but Mr. Remy made a million turns.
By the time Mr. Remy was sure we successfully lost the cop, I was trying to let my heart catch up with me. I think it was flung out the window on one of the taken-on-two-wheel curves.
"You okay, petite?" I looked over at him with jerky movements and then without a word of explanation I found the door knob and ran out of that car. Did I mention I was screaming?
Saturday's Driving Lesson:
First rule when driving with Mr. Logan: never touch the 'flammin'' radio.
Apparently he liked this Hank Williams guy. A lot. He let me drive and I felt safer with him. If we got pulled over he'd just growl at the cop or something.
Or so I thought.
I swore that cop waited for me.
We had just driven into Salem Center to pick up something and were headed back to the mansion when the blue and red lights started to flash. My heart stopped (it was getting quite a workout that week) but thankfully Mr. Logan told me to pull over.
Unfortunately what we went to pick up was Mr. Logan's case of beer for the week. And wouldn't ya know? There was one sitting in the cup caddy. Opened.
"Weeelll, what have we 'ere?" The cop asked. He smelled like onions and tuna. If I was dying from it Mr. Logan must have been in real stench caused pain. "An under-aged drinker? And who are you, pal? You sure don't look like this girl's old man."
"Better," Mr. Logan quipped as a smirk started to deepen on his face.
"Oh, yeah? Mind tellin' me what you're doin' in the back woods with a kid and beer? What's your relation to this kid?"
"Ain't none of your business, bub."
The cop snorted. "We'll see. I need your license, registration, and proof of insurance."
Mr. Logan went to digging around in his glove compartment for what the copper wanted.
License? That's what I was working toward if I could survive the instructors from heck.
"Uh, I-I'm just learning how to drive. H-he's teaching me." After getting the papers from Mr. Logan, I handed them to Onion cop.
"Everything appears to be in order," He handed it back to me after he'd gone to his car and left me stewing in my own nervous sweat for ten minutes. "Are you a licensed driver, bub?" Mr. Logan grumbled and started to fish out his wallet, handing the piece of plastic to the man, the cop nodded. "How do I know that you ain't trying to do something funny with this girl, pal?"
I muttered under my breath and hit my head on the steering wheel, could this be any worse?
Sunday I was in the Rec. room hiding. I did not want to go out and learn to drive anymore! After that cop threatened to track Mr. Logan down and roast him on an open flame if my body was found dead on the side of the road, there wasn't anything worse that could happen to me!
Until Stacey volunteered to teach me.
I didn't need that cop pulling us over for indecent exposure!
"Kookie?" It was Jean, why did she even have to say my name? She had that brain power to hunt me down! "Come out, come out wherever you are."
Which would be huddled in the closet with the extra pillows and blankets.
That's when I heard Scott's not too happy voice, "Blyt. Get out here now."
It was just lucky for him that I tripped over the end of my wings and went sprawling out of the closet. In my own little heap of feathers, limbs, and Snoopy pillows I stared up at the couple.
"Why weren't you in the garage? Stacey was waiting." And I was sure a person like her wasn't used to that.
I sighed/moaned.
"You win." I muttered, when he asked me a sharp 'what' I repeated louder. "You win."
Okay, so louder would constituted as almost screaming.
"I don't want to learn to drive from you people!"
"You begged me to let you do this."
"I know but that was before I knew you people treated the road like the Danger Room. And there's even a psycho cop who has it out for me!" I got to my feet and tried to make my way to the couch when I heard Jean laugh. Was this good? I didn't know.
"Why not try everyone before deciding who you want to be taught by?" Jean asked, "And then you can learn from them. Let's just start listing off the people."
Scott made a noise in his throat, an irritated 'this was going to take forever' noise. Jean started to list off my previous teachers, and after I explained to them what happened, they agreed I shouldn't be taught by any of them (even Scott!).
"Storm, Ororo?"
Ooohhh so that's how her name was pronounced. I guess I could try that name instead of slipping and calling her Miss Oreo for the rest of my life.
"Don't know, haven't tried."
"Bobby?"
Gag and snarl, "Uh, that wouldn't look right. H-he's my teacher after all!"
"What about someone on your own team?" Scott suggested after they listed the mansion's role call. "Adam? Adrian? Chris?"
"Adam's busy with online courses and Dr. Hank. Chris-one of us would eventually go missing. As for Corbo," I spat, "I don't think he'd be a good teacher."
"You're still upset about the leadership?" No kidding, buster.
"No," I lied, big surprise. "I just don't think Nikki would like it very much."
I was not bitter. And I, apparently, was going to get driving lessons from Storm.
In the middle of downloading a mindless, free computer game, the lights flickered. Checking outside, the night was clear and that only meant one thing.
"Chris!" I banged on his bedroom wall. "Cut it out!"
I heard him shout something back and I groaned in frustration and irritation. Stomping to my door, I opened it and went to Chris' door where I lightly knocked on it. When he opened it up I tried to not strangle him. "What did you say?"
"I said 'I don't want to.'" And then he slammed the door on me! I heard the lock click and my fuse was burnt to a crisp.
"Sparks!"
The lock un-clicked and an annoyed Chris looked back at me. "What?"
"I just wanted to say," I saw what he was doing over his shoulder; the idiot must have had twenty different appliances torn up and dancing with electrical currents. "Go French kiss a socket."
I thought Adam was the only mad scientist on this team.
