Lucky Me
Chapter 100
I am a dork. I am an unwanted, vile, hateful dweeb that has the nerve to breathe.
Okay, not really. I mean, I did my part and recycled paper and therefore got the right to breathe at least from saving one tree or something. But I was currently feeling like a neglected fair won pet floating belly up in a moldy, algae covered fish tank.
It turns out that Julie, the Freak from Across the Ocean, was even more of a 'character' than I originally thought.
The first week in February was going splendidly. I had gotten a hold of (aka pushed to the back of my brain I was affectionately referring to as the 'black pit o' doom' –had been my name for Emma but decided that was way too subtle and nice for her who made prostitutes look moral) my nasty little self-depreciating thoughts. I was proud of myself for being able to 'mask' myself once again.
Was doing very well until Sparky decided to short circuit the entire 'seen' floors of the mansion thus throwing everyone into utter chaos. I could have sworn that I wouldn't expect people who fought sentinels, bad mutants and, I dunno, the wrongs of the modern world to get all weird and whiney about a black out but they did. Dr. Hank quickly escaped down to his lab after tripping over Paige on the steps who was waiting for Mr. Warren who was cussing a (no pun intended) blue streak in the bathroom because he had been shaving when the lights went out and apparently nearly slit his own throat.
Gambit, apparently, had been about to win it big on some online gambling site when his computer screen blinked out and he ended spitting a mouthful of his double latte all over the screen. Not only did he get his monitor covered in sticky caffeine but in his frantic panic, he spilt the rest of the tall drink all over his keyboard and consequently in the crotch of his pants which started a whole new round of foreign foul mouthing.
From the shrieks of pain and surprise coming from the other wing, I didn't even want to think about what had happened. Probably something like curling irons burning sensitive skin. Mascara appliers poking out one or both eyes and there will be desperate need to carpool half the female residents to local hospital for eye implants or something. Then there was probably the tumbling down of bodies trying to get into their second-skin type jeans by wiggling, standing on one foot and sucking all their organs into their throat which lead to them falling over in a disgraceful, half-dressed lump of upset creature. See, I was a female and totally knew what we—okay, they did in order to look good.
Me? I wasn't doing anything that involved lights or electricity. Though I did swipe an electric razor from the bathroom closet. Why, you ask? Because Lucifer, the hell cat, was having problems digesting his fur and he got into the habit of puking it up on either a) Stitch b) me or c) my bed and I had every intention of shaving him bald as a favor. In revenge I was going to cover him in shaving cologne and then laugh like a psychopath (which I think I technically it would have been considered had I been given chance to do this).
I think that evil cat called upon his minions to cut the electricity off because I just knew Chris wouldn't be that dumb again. Remember the last time he made the power go out? Sabertooth got loose and we ended up fighting for our very lives. So I just knew Chris would not be that dumb.
You know, again.
Wrong.
My cell phone rang while a cussing Cajun (all in French or some other normally pretty language when not spoken in enraged shouts of pain) passed my door and a 'thunk-thunk' noise was heard a few seconds later (didn't want to know, happy being dumb). Picking up my phone, I gave a rather lazy, "Hello?"
"What's going on up there?" It was Scott. Sheesh, why didn't he call someone more reliable. Then I remembered, oh yeah, the reliable ones were (according to the noise) mending their self-inflicted battle scars.
"Mass male destruction and female furies on a rampage."
There was a pause, "Kerry."
"Chris killed the lights again."
Scott sighed, before saying he'd be right there. What was he going to be able to do? Pass out rations and candles? I wouldn't trust half these people with a flame (myself included because I don't think everyone would be very appreciative of having living torch running through the halls named Lucy).
I hung up the phone and decided to have fun with the mass chaos. Went into darkness of the hallway and the dumb cat shot out between my legs, causing me to trip and smack into someone (or something) that was sopping wet. Both caught by surprise, we ended up going down together. When I felt a towel, I knew I was in trouble.
When a weak excuse for a flashlight light was blinding me in the eye, my face went bright red. Bright enough it should have lit up the entire corridor. I was in a tangled heap with stricken looking Sam hovering above me.
"Something else I should know about, Kookie?" Scott remarked with a slight smile on his lips. I blustered as Sam and I tried to quickly escape each other. Somewhere in the scuffle, he lost his towel and I went blind. Ack, why must I be forced to live on the men's wing with the possibility of naked men running around? I just wanted to crawl back into my room and die.
"Where is everyone else?"
"Follow the shoutin', Summers." The ever wise Mr. Logan said, puffing up a cigar. Before Dad could say anything about no smoking in the mansion Mr. Logan shrugged and said it worked as a mini-torch. Dad must not have been in the mood to fight with him because he just turned around and made his way to the female wing.
After Sam was swallowed up by the darkness, I ran for it as well. Note to self, when mansion, for a childish reason, goes into massive panic mode: Stay in room.
When genius here went into the fray, she got her behind scuffed up pretty badly. I found out that the main part of the mansion went pitch black and despite Scott's wimpy excuse for a dying flashlight, I didn't have a clue where I was going. I ended up tripping down the steps, finding a moaning-in-pain Paige and a completely frustrated Miss Rogue who was trying to find way back to upper floors without flying or killing anything (on purpose or otherwise).
Bobby was fussing about having been on the last level of a video game he'd been playing for about three weeks and was about to win when the lights died. "I'm gonna kill Chris. Seventh level!"
"I think the person who gets the most injuries has that pleasure." I muttered as Mr. Bishop (I think) went past me in a huff. Where he was going I was only going to hope the fuse box or something.
"Who is going to replace my door!" Someone screamed from up the stairs. Not wanting to know what had happened to said door, I decided to go visit Dr. Hank.
Since the Professor, though stinking rich to the point of revulsion, was so cheap, he wouldn't call an electrician until the next day. Since Mr. Bishop and Dr. Hank could only get the generators working for the sub-levels of the place, Scott had to finally let us go to the boat house to 'crash' because he had a heater that worked. Not for lack of trying on his part to get us to camp in the danger room.
When Jean seemed equally as thrilled about the prospect of her house becoming a mutant safe house, Scott politely mentioned that it was either central heat keeping people warm or a whole lot of 'personal' time occurring. You know, he sorta said, like cuddling in the dark. In a bed. Alone.
Jean was more than willing to pick us up at that point.
Gambit, as always, whipped out a pack of cards and suggested poker. Us broke, cheap or poker-challenged people drifted to the kitchen for Uno instead. All I could lose at with Uno was my respect, temper, and badly damage a few friendships when I kept slamming down 'Draw Two' and 'Skip'.
"That's cheatin'!" Miss Rogue claimed as Storm put another 'Reverse' on the play. With a growl, Miss Rogue glared off into a corner.
Jean smiled, "It's only a game, Rogue."
"One that Ah'm losin'!"
"Someone has to," Julie remarked, rearranging her cards. Everyone was a little taken back by her lack of 'I-need-thy-blood-to-live' attitude since the lights went out. Miss Rogue grumbled something about having so many cards and I just sighed. At least hers wasn't an inch thick and growing.
Around the table was Jean, Miss Rogue, Sam (who was kicked out of poker after winning seven times in a row), Julie, Miss Ororo, Paige, and most everyone else who was poor or too lucky to play. They had the radio on and the second shock of the night occurred.
Just when they were about to play the next song after going on and on (talking) about how they played more music and less talking (not proved by the past 14 minutes of commercials), the DJ actually said something that had me gaping at the radio and not caring that Chris had just 'slammed' me with a Draw Four.
"…that's right, she disappears for half a year only to come back out with a new hit song, 'Shade'. Her manager has said nothing about what had happened to the performer but you know, there are rumors. At any rate, here is the ever elusive DAS with 'Shade…"
DAS? One of my, if not the, favorite singer was back? What the heck! Where have I been! How didn't I know. Then Gambit came in talking about something stupid (because he was making it hard to hear the song!) and I shushed him and turned up the radio.
I couldn't believe it! DAS was back! I wonder if she had a new CD out yet?
"Kerry!" I nearly jumped out of my seat when Chris growled at me because I had yet to pick up the four cards.
I was riding on cloud 9. Chris rolled his eyes as I put down a 'Reverse' then three 'Draw Twos' in a row. The rest of the game had me in this happy-happy state. Though I wasn't so out of it not to find it curious how badly Julie's hands were shaking. Was she scared or something?
After the second game of cards, we decided to take a break. Begrudgingly Scott and Jean had to admit that the crew would have to spend the night and it was Bobby (Mr. I'm-Not-Effected-Much-By-the-Cold) who volunteered to take the four wheel drive to the mansion to pick up extra blankets, toothbrushes and such. When Jean and Scott went upstairs to check the toothpaste situation (whether they had enough or not) I quickly (and silently) volunteered to go with Bobby by slipping out the front door (slipping back in a second later after realizing I had forgotten my shoes) and getting into the Onvoy (the big car/truck/SUV thingie).
He was about to get in when he noticed me and blinked, smiled and got in the car with this 'smooth look' smile on his lips. Julie, unfortunately, decided to tag on as well. Claiming that she needed to speak to Dr. Hank. Humph, like I believed that. She just wanted to take any chance she could to make me miserable.
As if we had the same idea in mind, we waited for Julie to get out of the car so we could have some 'us' time. The only thing that went wrong was that Julie didn't budge. She was the last to get out and Bobby and I weren't looking like the most approachable people at that moment.
Using our flashlights, we were able to round up everyone's toothbrushes and enough pillows and sleeping stuff to keep most everyone nice and warm. Julie, naturally, coped out and headed straight for Dr. Hank. She could have helped us a little ya know.
Once the massive load was shoved into the back of the vehicle, Bobby said he was going to start the motor and I could go and fetch Julie. When I got to Dr. Hank's, he wasn't there. Julie had her back to me and with all the shock in the world, her gloves were on the bed beside her.
I didn't get the nickname 'kitten' by chasing mice, it was because I was too dang curious. I tip toed into the lab, apparently not quietly enough because Julie turned around to see me and her eyes went round in surprise.
"Wot the bloody hell are you doin' in here?"
"Uh-" Her hands, now closely cradled to her chest, were astonishingly grotesque. "I-I was just coming to…"
"Miss Summers, if you don't mind…" Dr. Hank said from behind me. I jumped to the side and watched in astonishment as he went to Julie and started to stick a few needles into the backs of her hands.
When Dr. Hank was finished with her, Julie pulled her gloves on and stormed past me in a rage. I followed her blindly down the hall.
It didn't take her long to explode on me in a verbal spew of thickly accented words. She was ranting at me to the point where she was crying. At the end of the rather lengthy frustrated one side shout fest, she summed it up. "Why the bloody hell did you 'ave to see?"
I blinked at her in my own naturally stupid way. "It was an accident."
"But why'd you'd have to look?"
"Uh," Because I have eyes? I walked past her. There was one way to make her shut up, so I shrugged off the jean jacket I was wearing and pushed my hair over my shoulder so my back was on display. The strangled noise she made let me know she was looking at my horribly scarred back. "There, happy? Now we both have scars." My back was ugly in my eyes, scars of my lack of flying. I was forever grounded. Denied the sky for life. It sucked. Once I had grown accustomed to something it's a real punch in the gut to be told I couldn't have it anymore.
I put my jacket back on and looked her in the sunglasses. Her mouth was still opened a bit but it was quickly snapped shut as she brushed by me. "That's wot you get for being stupid."
I smirked.
When we walked out, Bobby was out of the car and talking to some guy with a ponytail and beard.
This wasn't the weird part.
The really weird, kinda almost fainting part was that there was a spaceship on the front lawn.
"Kookie!" Bobby screamed, waving over at me as I continued (along with Julie) to stare dumbly at this-this spaceship! "Come on! Don't you want to meet your new Grand-dad?"
I think that's when I grabbed on to the front door knob and walked back into the house.
I walked out again and there was still this pony tailed old guy and a spaceship.
Huh, okay…couldn't wait to hear this explanation….
