Lucky Me

Chapter 074


Amazingly enough, Cyclops didn't come and check my room Friday night or Saturday morning (well he might have but I wormed my way into Paige's room). Thankfully, "Jack" was going to take care of the rest. He had hunted me down and made sure I remembered we were going to leave at eleven. I was to fly to a certain spot, and he would pick me up.

Just to make it less suspicious (and to get away from the mansion as soon as possible) I took off at 10:30. As fate had it, I heard my phone ring when I took off but I didn't feel like answering it (could have been Scott, but I didn't think he was that determined to talk to me). I took off toward the pre-planned meeting spot and got there in about five minutes. What was even stranger was Mr. Fashionably Late pulled up ten minutes later, fifteen minutes early.

Jack gave me the once over (and quite obviously might I add).

"You look—really nice."

"Thanks." I felt myself blush lightly but he didn't give any other compliment which was a good thing since we were still supposed to be 'friends' and all. I noticed something else (besides the awkward silence).

"Is this a new car? I've never seen you use this one."

"Uh, it's a 'community car'," he stated. "It's the easiest to borrow without -uh, people being too nosey."

I shrugged, sounded plausible and with our 'secret friend date' relationship, the last thing we needed was a big flashy car to ride around in.

We stopped at a restaurant in town and thankfully it wasn't Harry's Hideaway. It was some other place, like Emily's Kitchen or something. Not really important. Jack took a lot of care to hide the car in a back parking lot that wasn't visible from the road.

Lunch was quick and we were somewhat chatty. I tipped my head to the side and studied my friend. He was nervous. I'd never seen Jack like that, at least not for a while, and then he looked guilty.

Finally, annoyed, I poked, "Okay, what gives?"

"Huh?" Jack started to fidget. "What do you mean?"

No witty and smart aleck comment? Something was definitely wrong.

"You're acting really weird, that's what I mean. What's wrong with you? Are you feeling sick or something?" I put my hand on his forehead and his face went blood red.

"N-no. I'm not sick." I removed my hand and gave him a firm stare. "I'm fine. Just feeling a bit-different."

"Different?"

"Yeah, different." He looked away from my questioning scowl.

"Oh-kay, fine, have your little secrets." I stuck my nose up in the air and gave my attention to the waitress as she came out of the kitchen and put our food down.

After we left the diner he nearly killed me when he spoke softly, "I'm sorry, okay?"

One eyebrow rose and in a bored tone I questioned, "Did you say something?"

Jack's jaw tightened.

"I said I was sorry. I have a lot of things on my mind is all."

I examined his hair.

"Probably all that gel that you slopped on."

His lips tugged into a smile.

"That's on my head, not my mind."

"Are you kidding? It probably seeped in through your pores and got sponged up by your brain by now."

Smiling at him, he only laughed.

I stopped, but he continued walking. After two seconds he turned around.

"What?"

Shaking my head to clear it from that idea I just had, I gave him another simple smile.

"Nothing!"


We went through the arcade and after I beat him at a racing game, I forced him to spend the rest of his quarters on the crane/claw machine. He was pretty lucky on that game. It only took him three tries to get a fat angel boy sleeping on a cookie. I couldn't stop laughing at the image because had a mental picture of a fat Mr. Warren floating on a cookie in my head.

Jack was grinning proudly as we walked down the street toward the miscellaneous shops in downtown Salem Center.

"It looks like Stitch will have a friend, huh?"

His smile faltered marginally.

"I guess so."

I got in front of him, turned, and made him stop. Jack's eyebrows connected into one.

"You, sir," I said trying to be commanding. "Aren't allowed to be depressed. Aren't you having a good time?"

Again, there was a twitch of his lips. "You're robbing me blind and I'm supposed to be happy about that?"

Taking a deep breath like I was going to make a speech, I answered with a short and sweet, "Duh."

He sputtered and then shook his head with a sigh.

"That was a dramatic build up for no reason."

"Are you happy?" I was serious this time.

Jack gave me a different kind of smile.

"Yeah, I am."

I turned and we continued to walk toward the shops side by side.

A surprising thing happened when he grabbed my hand to hold me back from bumping into someone at the shopping center. Not that his politeness was surprising, but his calloused fingertips were. Jack's hands had never felt rough before; it was odd that I noticed. It was probably because we didn't have to sneak around the mansion that I had enough time to notice the little things like that.

We were just creeping around a town in broad daylight, praying against all odds that we wouldn't bump into anyone from the mansion.

Second surprise was when I looked at him and then at our hands. He pulled his hand from mine quickly and blushed.

The heat must have been getting to him!

Bumming around the shops was okay and everything, but the best part was leaving them to escape to the movie theaters. I couldn't help but laugh as I addressed him as Jacqueline instead of Jack. He raised one eyebrow and shook his head.

We went to see some movie about alien pretending to be human to trick this scientist girl (who looked like a super model) into coming back to his home planet so they could breed and have a lot of alien/human thingies.

Leaving the theaters around six, we decided that it would be best to go back to the mansion. If we spent too much time out and about someone was bound to notice (probably Jean) and send out their wolves (or Wolverine). I just didn't understand those people sometime.


I hadn't seen Jack around the mansion (without the image inducer) very often. Of course, I wasn't around the mansion very much (too busy trying to avoid Scott). I had found the grounds more than an adequate hiding spot for avoiding 'Slim'.

It was Wednesday when I was walking around and ran into Chris who was throwing pebbles into the lake and looking like his normal cheerful self. Conversation started off with a bunch of half worded answers to my politely annoyed inquiries. When I got fed up with it, I started to walk away but stopped when a question popped out of his mouth that I hadn't expected.

"Why him?"

I stumbled, twisted around and answered, "What?"

"Why him," He asked again. I looked at him; he kept his gaze to the front, and glaring a hole in the shore. "Out of all the guys, why the hell did it have to be him?"

I was thrown into an uncomfortable position of unknowing. "Why do you want to know?"

"Because I'm amazed that you would like someone like—like him," Chris exasperated. I let a few moments pass, hoping against all odds that he would suddenly get struck with short term memory loss or something, and "Well?" Guess I wasn't that lucky.

"I, uh, because I, uh" I wasn't good with emotions and stuff! I wasn't the stereotypical girl who could spout poetry about her, er, friend to who she was attracted.

"You don't know?" His voice was dangerously close to anger. What had I done to tick him off? Was he upset that I liked Jack or that Jack liked me?

Yuck!

No way! Chris would never like Jack! That was just so wrong.

"Why am I not surprised."

Oh-kay, I lied. I wasn't good with nice, fluffy emotions. Being ticked off was something I did know how to vocalize.

"What's that mean? Just because I can't really answer doesn't mean I don't have my reasons!"

He finally glared over at me. Sunglasses were firmly in place, but his face was grave. Chris wasn't usually the smiling and laughing kind (he didn't exactly look like the approachable kind either). This time it looked like the wrong word would have him trying to fry half of New York.

"Tell me your reasons. I'm curious."

Yeah, that tone really would lead me to be open and honest. Sheesh.

"Because he's nice, sweet, and funny. Because he's been there for me no matter what." I was proud of my answer until Chris came back with his.

Chris' expression darkened. "Even when he's the one who screwed with your mind?"

I blanched.

"He's an insensitive jerk, Kerry," Chris claimed. "I've spent more time with him than you have in the past few months. He doesn't care, he doesn't ever mention you."

Because it's supposed to be a secret, you numbskull!

"I can understand that. We—are only friends."

Chris' eyebrow shot up, as one side of his mouth twisted into a cold smirk.

"Is that so? Then why you're dating him?"

My face had gone from its normal color to white with fear to blood red with embarrassment.

"B-because!" I stammered, "We want to be friends again. He said he still is-uh, finds me-"

"He wants you," Chris spoke plainly.

"Even if he doesn't talk about me." It's not like his name was always on the tip of my tongue either. I would love to talk about Jack more, but there would be too many unanswerable questions, too many protests. "I still-"

"Want him."

I nodded; Chris muttered something under his breath.

"You two deserve each other. You're both idiots."

I went to snap his head off and throw his remains in the lake, but he got up and trudged away. I growled and was about to go after him when I heard another voice.

I almost jumped out of my skin and into the lake because I hadn't expected anyone else to be out there.

"Let him go, darlin'."

My heart! My heart it was trying to escape from my ribcage.

"You could warn someone you know." Then I remembered who I was talking to as he stepped out from the forest. "Er, Mr. Logan, sir." Maybe the slight show of respect would keep him from scaring me (more then I already was).

"Nothing will come out of chasin' him." He lit up a cigar and I felt strangely out of place. I spend a good amount of the morning with Mr. Logan when he's Mr. Wolverine, uh, Wolverine (yeah that would work on the field 'Mr. Wolverine!' 'Miss Storm!' 'Mr. Cyclops!') It didn't mean that we talked. He instructed, I attempted, and I usually got slammed down on the mat because I did something wrong. Mr. Logan wasn't like Scott in that respect. Wolverine would only give constructive criticism not plain-Jane criticism.

Why couldn't I have chosen him to look up to instead of Scott?

"What's his problem anyways?"

I glanced at Mr. Logan through the side of my eye. He snorted.

"From his scent, it's probably because you still raise his temperature."

I had to catch myself before I fell over from the sheer stupidity. What did temperature have to do with smells?

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You better watch yourself, kid." I was really beginning to dislike that nickname.

"Why? You think Chris would actually hurt me?" I wouldn't ever believe that. Sure, I ticked the boy off, but knowing him all this time I could say with certainty that Chris would never lay a finger on me (and not get it broken in the process).

Mr. Logan smirked, flicking his cigar ashes off the end. "No but I think ya might hurt him."

I cocked an eyebrow and my head. What was he getting at? Then, as if Storm struck me with a lightning bolt, of course! I had only heard rumors about Mr. Logan's love for my mo-uh, Jean. I guess he knew what it's like being stuck on the one-way street with a car that wouldn't start.

"Don't ya dare give me that look, and stop rollin' yer eyes." Yikes. Accent was coming out thicker. He didn't have much of one, but when you ticked him off it's better to hear the accent then a growl. Anything was better than an growling Mr. Logan. "I've already had a little talk with yer boyfriend."

Uh….which one?

"You had his scent on ya after you ripped into Cyke that mornin'." Then he gave me the eyes. "It ain't normally my business what goes on between people in the mansion, but I'm sendin' you two both a warning that it better not get too far." He took a long drag of smoke. "You're jail bait to everyone."

My face had returned to normal color but only until he said that. After putting what he thought so bluntly I went tomato red with embarrassment (again).

"We haven't! We aren't!" I protested without much heat of conviction but with blushing cheeks.

He laughed.

"I know darlin', but I'm just warnin' you against gettin' to a point where you have to chose. You two are alone a lot more than Jeannie thinks, if she knew you spent several nights in the same bed as him," Mr. Logan trailed off with a smirk. "Things are bound to happen and accidents happen, too. Probably something you don't want to hear from an old man like myself."

Or anyone else for that matter.

"I guess I could have gotten Gambit out here to talk to ya."

It took me a click but after that I busted out laughing. I couldn't imagine the poster boy of seduction telling anyone to 'just say no' on the topic of the 'birds and the bees'.


"Oh, don't be such a baby; he'll regain use of that hand." I paused before adding, "Eventually."

Mr. Warren laughed as Dr. Hank could only sigh in mock defeat. I was trying to defend the reason I sent Chris down to the medical lab after a one-on-one practice in the gym. He said it was a slip of the hand, but I had to teach a pervert a lesson.

"I didn't do it on purpose!" Chris protested as his face went a lovely shade of tomato.

I glared at him like I was possessed by the devil himself. Sure, the guy who had a mini-crush on me accidently groped me which led to me nearly breaking his hand for the crime. Mr. Warren had to separate us; he said I never seemed that enthusiastic about tearing into someone before.

"Did you really have to twist his hand so roughly though, Kookie?" Dr. Hank questioned as he wrapped Sparks' hand.

My nose went into the air.

"He should be thankful he still has it attached."

"I suppose."

Chris went into a stuttering objection after Dr. Hank said that. Mr. Warren couldn't help but laugh even more at the boy's lack of verbal retorts. It was a first for Chris to be struck speechless.

After a second, Chris cradled his hand to his chest before deciding to take one last cheap shot. "Not like there was much there anyway."

My glare had all three guys on edge. Mr. Warren looked like he was ready to grab me if I should make any movements toward my teammate. Dr. Hank hovered closer to Chris, I guess to get him to safety.

When I just smiled and gave a fake laugh, they calmed down. Like, a nano-fraction.

It took another seven minutes before Dr. Hank had to go show Mr. Warren something in the other room directly across from where we were.

My smile turned, as I got close enough to the bookshelves that lined the wall next to the door. There were some nice, thick and hefty books on those shelves.

Bap!

"Ow!"

Twing!

"Hank!"

Clunk!

"Help!"

Dr Hank and Mr. Warren almost ran into me as I walked out of the room.

"What was with the noise, Kerry?" Mr. Warren asked suspiciously.

"That," I ground out, "was the sound of a very large, heavy medical book beating manners into a very thick-headed idiot."

Dr. Hank sighed, "I've been meaning to ask you about your progress in the anger management course…"


On Friday I opened my door (after getting on my hands and knees to look under the door at the shoes on the other side to make sure it wasn't Scott who still had yet to capture me). Before I could so much as blink, he grabbed me around the waist and pulled me painfully close to him.

Thankfully, he had enough brains to come in and shut my door before pulling that maneuver.

"Uh, this is unexpected."

He buried his face in the curve of my neck. I was going to have to amputate my feet because the blood kept rushing from them to my head making me blush. I briefly wondered if I was going to develop some weird mutant power from this as well. Maybe red skin? Yikes!

It took me a half a second more before I got the idea and put my arms around his shoulders, returning his bear-strength embrace, but I wasn't as intense (didn't want to snap his neck or anything like that). His grip tightened. He didn't say anything (very unlike him).

"Is something wrong?"

I couldn't remember ever seeing him like that. His arms weren't going to be moving anytime soon and neither was his head. My heart broke. Usually I was the one clinging to him, begging for understanding, and protection-whoa! Thinking way too much!

"What happened?" I was attempting to keep my voice low. His only response was to move his face slightly against my neck (no, not in any 'suggestive ways'). It was then that I decided to shut up and do my best to do what he had done so many times, just be there for me. I let my arms relax into a more comfortable position, holding his waist before I tightened my grip as tight as his.

I wasn't sure how long we stayed like that, but finally, after however long, his hold relaxed and he pulled away to look me in the eyes.

"Care to explain?" I croaked, not the most attractive way of speaking but I was human enough to feel other's pains (as long as I wasn't the one who gave it to them).

He smiled at me weakly and in a raspy voice answered, "Not really."

Trying desperately (and transparently) to lift the mode, "So you think you can just come in here and freak me out and I'm not supposed to wonder why?"

"Yes." There was no humor in his voice. I felt nervous, he was just staring at me like there was something that was going to pop out of my nose and bit him. He took in a ragged breath and turned his face away. When he turned toward me again, his hand made its way to my face, his thumb brushing against my cheek slowly.

I was stunned, but my mouth pulled into a ghost of a smile.

"If you ever think about leaving I will hunt, sedate, and tie you to a pole out back to make sure you can never leave again."

That broke the mood, that and the fact I started to laugh at his dumb 'affectionate' threat.

His hand didn't move and in the blink of an eye and with a breath caught in my throat, he swiftly leaned dangerously close to me. There couldn't have been more than a half an inch between our lips and he stopped.

He stopped?

Just as quickly (and surprisingly) as he had grabbed me when I opened the door, he stepped back and released my waist and face.

"Sorry."

Huh, sorry? Sorry for what? My brain was shaking and my thinking was fuzzy. Then came the sheer lostness (hey! I invented a word!) of my person. He was just about to kiss me and then he pulled back. Not because of Mr. Kurt or me sneezing or anything. He pulled back because he wanted to? I was so freaking lost!

"What's the look for?" He asked, suddenly all smiles again. "I did stop before I did anything, didn't I?"

That was the problem! I shook my head and clearly gave the signs I was not happy.

"I told you we'd be friends first, right? Friends usually don't kiss." His serious voice came out again. "I don't want to this screw up— again."

Oh, well, that made sense. I guess. I let it go and then (with hands on my hips) fused him.

"So am I going to find out what it was that got you upset?"

"Not a chance."

Argh!

"You are such a boy."

He only smiled.

"Friends usually confide in each other." I pretended to wipe away a tear (anything to lighten the mood).

"So you want me to give you an answer about why I came here?"

"Yeah," that had to be the dumbest question ever.

"Well, now that," he smirked, "is a secret."


"Did you see that!" Julie griped, "He cut me off!"

"Try waving with more than one finger next time."

Whoever decided to let her drive to town needed to be in the car with her while she drove. I knew the girl was a freaking maniac, but put her behind a two ton vehicle and you might as well kiss your behind good-bye. Mr. Bishop decided to chaperone this little trip as did Sam. I think they were really just running in fear of one of the X-women again. Hey, it happened more often than one expected!

"I thought it was an American custom, I see it on the movies all the time."

"You see them take showers all the time, but you don't follow that lead." I pointed out. She would have had a pretty good glare going if she didn't have her sunglasses on.

When we got to town each of us had different destinations. Julie wanted to check out the dingy 'alternative clothing' store, Sam needed to pick up groceries, I had to get some movies, and Mr. Bishop had to do whatever it was that living mountains of muscles had to do. I set off to the local movie rental store (a dying breed). Apparently on the 500 plus channels, there wasn't anything to watch.

That's when the unthinkable (and usually avoidable) event occurred.

Yup, that's right. After a week or whatever of careful avoidance, I had walked straight into Scott and Jean. A none-too-happy Scott and Jean.

They were in the more discreet part of the movie rental store. It was only when I knew for certain that they hadn't seen me (probably because I was creeping along on bent knees like I was looking at the movies on the very bottom shelves) that I was going to make a break for the door.

Then, then I heard my name. "…Kerry wouldn't…" okay, I was human. I heard my name, I was instinctively driven to jump up and scream 'and what wouldn't Kerry do?' But being a mutant X-person, I crept around to the back of the store, with only a shelving unit between my parents and me.

"…reason! She isn't prone to emotional outbursts or showing her emotions period." Jean was not a happy Suzy Homemaker.

"I thought you told me you weren't getting in the middle of this." Scott almost snapped at the telepath. Whoa! Talk about dancing with a telepathic Grim Reaper!

"I did but it doesn't mean I'm not going to push for a resolve between the two of you. She's just as stubborn as you apparently. Oh, don't give me that look. You are stubborn. Once you get one thought in your head it's hard to get it out. What did you do?"

"I only asked why she was staying up so late." His voice was controlled. "She then took the liberty to make a spectacle out of herself in front of half the mansion."

There was no response for a few seconds.

"You said something, didn't you?"

"I just told you what I said."

"Scott Summers," her voice was like a knife to the throat, "what else did you say?"

He wasn't a stupid man.

"Just questioned her if the reason she wasn't doing as well as she was in the Dan-'the room' and work out sessions was because she stayed up all night playing games."

Yeah right. He made it sound like they were innocent and harmless questions instead of fierce allegations.

"So they were harmless, innocent questions and not strong allegations?"

My thoughts…oh crap! Jean knew I was there!

"I might have—insinuated some things and pushed her a little harsher than normal but I know she can handle it."

I swallowed. I didn't want to think. Jean already gave me fair warning that she could hear everything I thought (well at least a sentence of it or something).

Dang tears! They couldn't just stay in my eyes!

"Work it out before she turns against you, Scott. Like Alex." Oh, that was a low blow. I never knew Jean could sink so low.

Well, I had hints I supposed but I never saw it in action (except against me).

Waiting until they were gone (after almost freaking this poor old woman out because I had ducked behind her as they passed by) I was too frazzled to think of anything else much less movies so I just grabbed one and went to the counter with it.

The guy behind the counter smirked at me.

"Into the kinky stuff, huh?"

I gave him the patent you-are-not-funny expression I usually saved for Bobby-Jerk when he made his bad jokes.

"I'm not into you, if that's what you're hoping for."

He held up the video I was currently paying for and I went white as my eyes wished to bulge out.

"Babysitting Daddy" was the title of the movie with a girl in a skirt that qualified more as a rubber band sitting on this ugly old man's lap while another girl was nearly falling out of her non-existent top (by girl I meant woman).

Oh gross! I must have been hiding in the adult section! And the movie title! That was just too Freudian to think about!

Gross!