Lucky Me

Chapter 89


I was blushing like mad for the rest of the week. Every time Bobby-Jerk and my eyes would meet, we'd look away quickly and I'd feel slightly flattered, slightly insulted. In the middle of study hall with 'Mr. Drake' I couldn't help but let my mind drift back to Las Vegas and the stair well.

Remember that red and white flame? Yeah, well, big surprise it was one of Julie's flames o' feelings. Apparently her 'fancy' on Mr. Dice had climbed and morphed into mutiny. She was working for him in the respect of keeping us (Bobby-jerk and me) away from the office.

She threw 'lust' flames at us.

Man, I was so embarrassed.

Okay, to clarify. We just got hit by this lust flame wave thing and then, as we were shaking it off, we looked at each other and the next thing I knew-we were—that is—uhm, okay, so we were kissing. Not an innocent kiss, but this went ten times deeper involving tongues and yeah, well, you get the idea. Did it stop there? No. It. Didn't.

It took Scott about four minutes to get to where we were and by that time, I was pressed against the wall. Still fully clothed, thank heavens, but barely. Bobby-jerk's hands apparently had a mind of their own and I had no mind because I didn't stop him. I had my arms twisted around him, as were my legs.

Scott's appearance was such a blessing. When he reached the landing we were—er, working off the effects of Julie's power, he instantly started to shout at us. When that didn't work, he pried us apart and shot the door down with his eye beams. This successfully also took Julie out who had been right on the other side of the door.

See why I was still blushing like a mad rabbit?

I hadn't even thought about something like this-and now….now I knew it was a possibility but I was still fervently against it. I was too young for those kinds of thoughts! But it was a reality. One I might have to discuss with Jack, to make sure we understood each other in this decision. Not to mention to come to a firm understanding that what happens, in Vegas with Bobby Drake stays in Vegas.


Julie was severely punished. No, she wasn't raked across the verbal coals, but I bet she wished she was. She taken off the roster until the senior staff could assure she wouldn't turn coat again. Why had she acted out in the way she did? Why had the X-Citers Blackflame backhanded us?

D-M was standing beside her choice, and begged someone, anyone, to listen to Julie's reasoning. To make sure it got across as logical!

I was almost in tears fighting with her, just thinking about how trashy I must have looked. Scott finally accepted that it was Julie's fault Bobby and I were all over each other. Jean wasn't so willing to believe it until Julie made it quite clear that no one else would be capable of such a manipulation of wills by sheer emotions.

Dumb girl just kept digging her grave.


Another few days later, I was flipping through the TV stations when Mr. Remy walked in and dropped the phone in my lap. He smiled down at me and I glared at him as I remembered a certain event when he lost all knowledge of what a phone was.

"Oh sure, now you answer the phone."

He waved me away, "it's for you. Better talk to the person, non?"

Grumbling I answered with a baritone 'hi'.

"Dear Kookie," my blood suddenly started to scream warning. "How are you, darling?"

Thoroughly freaked.

"This is your Auntie Emma."

And disgusted.

"I wanted to have a bit of a chat."

Slowly loosing feeling in my brain.

"About how much I simply adore your company."

The heart monitor was flat lining.

"And how I much I wish for us to have another tête-à-tête. How does lunch on Saturday sound, dear?"

"Sorry, can't. My funeral's on Saturday."

There was a slight pause and the sound of me slapping my forehead. I hadn't meant to let that last little comment to be verbal!

"I beg your pardon?"

"Who is this?" I questioned, my ever suspicious mind running around frantically as if it was on fire.

"Emma, dear." The 'dear' was said as if she really meant 'dummy'. "Emma Frost?"

Like I know a lot of people who call me 'dear'. "How am I sure?"

There was a sort of funny noise from the other side of the line. "What reason would I have to lie, child?"

Man, if this was a joke, then they got her uppity attitude down to a 't'. "Uh," yeah, that's a way to impress someone.

"As I was offering, would you care to have a little luncheon with me this coming Saturday? I'm sure you would love the place I am planning to attend." When the mortal enemy of all woman kind in a tight fitting shirt and stilettos asks you for a 'lunch date' there was only one intelligent thing to do.

I held the phone away from me, clicked the 'off' button, and set it on the table.

Yes, I hung up on Emma Frost. I guess I was in shock. Why on earth would that woman want anything to do with me willingly? What, did she have a crush on my dad or something?

That was just twisted and wrong by the way.

If that was the real Emma, then man was she going to be doing an excellent impression of a bull in heat without a cow.

"Who was that?" Bobby-Jerk asked, stealing the remote (because I was still watching the phone as if it was going to grow legs and dance around) and started to flip through the channels. "Well?"

"I-don't know." Settling back in the couch, I glared at the phone accusingly.

This was just so weird.


Another day slipped by and I was fiddling with broken pieces of a vase that got on the wrong side of my temper when I had tried to throw it at Chris who laughed and ducked. That perverted jerk. He kept annoying me about the Vegas-Bobby issue and kept going on and on about how at least I was too fat to ever truly show if I was pregnant. I threw the end table at him next as I screamed that I was still a virgin….and wouldn't you know that's when a group of people had come into the dining room.

Professor took one look at the broken plates, wayward silverware; cups scattered all around, Chris' current location and sighed. But when he saw the dumb vase, the man turned into a speechless, pale devil who kept reminding us that this vase was a gift from a dear friend.

Jean chewed into me. Chris laughed. Miss Ororo worked into Chris. I smirked.

About time he got in trouble for always getting me into trouble! Evil, mean hearted boy!

It was during this delicate respect-thy-elder's-or-whatever speech that Mr. Warren and Mr. Jean-Paul came into the kitchen (where I had been ushered after the dining room) and started to ask me a bunch of weird questions just like Emma.

"You agreed to go with Emma?" Mr. Jean-Paul asked, seemingly disturbed by the trashed vase (or the fact I was holding super glue and more of the pieces were sticking to me than to the base of the thing).

"Huh?"

"Did you agree to do anything with Emma this Saturday?" I blinked like a new born rabbit. "Try to remember, Kerry. This is really important."

Swatting my hands away, Mr. Jean-Paul picked up a piece of the vase then in a blur of motion (and some mild ripping of my skin to get the pieces off) the vase stood proudly in front of me once again. My mouth dropped as he smiled that self-satisfied way only gay men could.

"It took two hours to get as far as I did…"

"Did you agree?" Mr. Warren stressed, taking my shoulders and forcing me to look at him. I winced as my still healing shoulder flared with hot pain. Seeing my facial expression change, he took his hands off of me but still pinned me with a steady, warning look.

"To what?" My mind was still green with envy and white with shock about the miracle repair job I had just witnessed.

Sighing deeply, Mr. Jean-Paul gave me the eye. "Did you or did you not agree to go with Emma to a luncheon this Saturday?"

My mind tried to put pieces of the fragmented conversation back together. "Yes?"

I swear Mr. Warren turned red (and for a blue guy, that's a pretty nifty trick). "Yes to which question?"

"I hung up on her. Does that help?" I was so unsure, I mean here I sat next to the precious vase of Professor Xavier's and they seemed to be losing their tempers. The way they looked at me, and then to each other I thought I was going to have to beg for them to hurt me and leave the vase alone. If they had a temper like mine, then they'd look for things to throw or things to destroy once the person's back was turned.

When I realized they were still staring at me, I started to get even more nervous. Switching my eyes from the blonde to the white haired man, I could almost see their brains clanking. My suspicion was mounting quickly. "Uh…?"

"Kerry," Mr. Warren smiled, trying to be charming. "How would you like to come with us this Saturday instead?"

Now I knew I was dubbed as dumb or dead. What was so important about this Saturday? Halloween was Wednesday, last Wednesday on top of that and here they are trying to be charming and stuff?

Little insignificant me being asked by the rich and powerful to attend a meal? Was this a dream or some type of side effect of my sore wings?

"Why?"

Mr. Jean-Paul must have had a lot of need of me because he crossed his arms and smiled down at me. Okay, I was thankful he put the vase back together (a little jealous, but happy) but that didn't give him the right to leave the little box of 'cold indifference' that I had put him in. "Because we hardly get the time to talk."

Lie.

"We're doing it now." I pointed out, not buying this whole 'let us be buddies' mode of operation.

They both exchanged looks.

"Do you have plans?" Mr. Warren asked.

Me? Have plans? You've got to be kidding. Alexis was still grounded, Scott was still not talking to me because of the whole wrecked dining room thing and Jean said to stay away from the boathouse after I accidentally cleaned the windows with Pledge.

"Maybe." An escape route!

"We are going to be having a minor party with the St. Loys." ….and this involved me how? "For some odd reason, his over active sister enjoyed your company and wanted you to attend." Mr. Jean-Paul looked as if I was pulling the caps off his teeth or something. "If you accompany Warren and me, he will likely be more amiable toward us than before."

I looked at the vase, then back toward the blue eyed men.

I sighed.

I was not even going to discuss how Saturday went. It was long and boring. Diana didn't even show up so I was stuck with these bossy people who were trying desperately to kiss up to each other. Ick, business people.

But on Monday something interesting did happen. Darcy called. She called from time to time or wrote e-mails. It's mostly about what she was doing in the new church she was a part of, or how much she liked this new guy John something-to-do-with-soccer. But this time, she had been crying and sounded like someone had just set a kitten on fire (and trust me, I like cats but I have been trying to think of some way to get rid of Lucifer that would fulfill my need against the vile feline and also look like an accident. So setting him on fire was out of the question.).

Jack had been lounging in my room for whatever reason and answered my phone. I would have to gripe at him for that stupid move later. What if it had been Scott? Or worse, Jean? Scary. But it was Darcy, and after I got the phone, her voice threw my fear on high alert.

"K-K-erry," she sobbed brokenly. Something inside me chipped away.

"Darcy? Darcy, what's wrong?" I was panicked, and because Jack was not a complete idiot (all the time at least) he started to pay extra close attention.

"I-It's Grandma!" Darcy's voice cracked, my heart followed suit. "Kerry, she's had a heart attack!"

My head swirled, my vision blurred, and somewhere in the distance I could hear a voice crying out my name.