A/N: Hey Everyone!!! Thanks for all the great reviews! I'm sorry it's taken so long to get this chapter up, but school's just started and between cross-country practice and homework I haven't had much time to update. They seem to be really intent on piling on homework this year, so chapters may either take quite awhile or be really short. . . I hope that doesn't discourage any of you though!! Thanks for understanding!!!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, Marvel and them own it all . . . with the exception of "Roll to Me" which belongs to Del Amitri.

"normal speaking"

'Telepathically speaking'

Thinking

Late afternoon sun blazed down on the tired athletes of Bayville High, the suffocating air hanging heavy on their backs. Raising her hand to her brow, Jean shielded her eyes from the sun, searching the crowd for a familiar face. Her eyes grazed the sea of heads until they landed on Scott Summers diligently helping the coach to stack hurdles. 'Sco-ott,' she trickled his name across his mind in a sing-song voice, causing him to look up in confusion. She was about to raise her arm in greeting when Taryn Fujioka appeared at her side, the creases in her brow glistening with sweat.

"Hey, Jean, we missed you at practice today." It was phrased more as a question than a statement.

"NHS," Jean answered, rolling her eyes in annoyance, "I'd have rather practiced but," she shrugged, "you know my parents."

Taryn's brow furrowed and she was about to respond that no, she'd never actually met the Greys, but her thoughts were interrupted as Duncan Matthews approached, slipping his arms around Jean from behind. Taking her cue from the quarterback, Taryn cheerfully excused herself and headed for the girls' locker room, leaving Jean alone with her boyfriend.

"Hey, Jean," he twirled her around to face him, smiling at her pleased expression. "I'm heading out to Jason's party with the guys, you want to come?"

"The party's tonight?" Jean did her best to force a look of surprise, "Oh, Duncan, I can't, I've got a test in AP physics tomorrow that I need to study fore, I'm sorry." She lied smoothly, the thought of a party still tormenting her mind. She'd enjoyed parties, once, but after one every weekend following games during the football season, she'd become thoroughly sick of the repetitive scene; dancing to poorly chosen music, declining the numerous beers she was offered, trailing after Duncan like a prized piece of arm candy, jean Grey had had enough parties to last the next few years.

"Aw, that sucks," Duncan interjected where he thought appropriate, clueless to the truth behind the lies. "Want me to take you home before I go?"

"No, it's all right," she slipped her arms around his waist, playing the innocent girlfriend counterpart to his dumb-jock. "I wouldn't want you to miss anything; I'll grab a ride with someone else."

"You sure?"

"Yeah," she nodded, smiling sweetly, "You go and have a good time."

"Alright, then," Duncan bent down, encasing Jean in a short, but sweet kiss. "Call me if you can't get a ride?"

"Of course, have a good time!" She waved him off, feeling slightly guilty about her lies. Sighing, Jean turned around only to find herself face to face with Scott. Startled, Jean jumped backwards, a stifled scream escaping her lips. "Scott Summers, don't do that!"

"Do what?" he laughed in question.

"Don't sneak up like that! You scared me!"

"But it's so much fun," he teased playfully.

"Ugh, you are hopeless!" She threw her hands in the air for emphasis.

"Yeah, I guess I am," he murmured quietly, but the look on his face told Jean that the two of them were talking about two completely different things. Before Jean could ask what he meant, however, Scott changed the subject, nodding his head in the direction Duncan had walked off to. "So, what was that all about?"

"Hmm? Oh, with Duncan? Nothing really, just telling him I couldn't make it to Jason's party."

Scott looked slightly taken aback, "Oh, why not?"

Jean bit her lip, knowing she'd never get away with lying to Scott, he knew her too well. "Honestly? I'm just sick of the whole party scene. I think I've been to enough parties to last me a lifetime."

"Not enjoying your ever growing popularity?" Scott couldn't resist teasing.

"Oh, shut-up, Summers!" Jean smacked him playfully with her binder. "You know I'm not in to that whole popularity thing."

Scott hesitated, that's what Jean always said and he knew that, on the surface, she believed it, but, having spent the better part of his life growing up with jean, Scott knew that, subconsciously, Jean enjoyed the attention. She hadn't been well-liked as a child, and at the command of "the group" at her old school, she'd been shunned by the majority of the students. Scott knew that Duncan asking Jean out had been one of the happiest moments in her life, and though he secretly disapproved, he'd been happy for her.

"So," Jean broke the tense silence, trying to dismiss the shadow of doubt lingering over Scott's countenance. "Is the offer for the ride still open?"

"I assume that's what you called me over for?" he smiled as she nodded, happy for the distraction, "Yeah, of course. Just let me hit the showers and we'll go."

Even as they stepped into his car ten minutes later, Scott was still dwelling on Jean's dismissive comment about her views of popularity. Being accepted at Bayville had always meant a lot to her, even if it meant hiding her true self. Jean needed to be accepted. Anytime Scott had mentioned that the students of the Institute accepted her for who she really was and not what she appeared to be, she'd shoot him an angry look, muttering "that's different." Her position in the world meant everything to Jean, and Scott couldn't help but wonder if she could accept someone who'd bring her down on the social scale. Would he ever be good enough for her?

Scott was dimly aware of Jean flipping through radio stations as they inched their way through rush-hour traffic. "Ooh, I love this song!" she squealed excitedly, finally relenting her intense channel surfing engagement. Scott chanced a glance out the corner of his eye. The wind toyed with Jean's hair, teasing it strand by strand out of her tight ponytail, sending it flying haphazardly in all angles. Her cheeks were flushed from the thrill of hearing her song over the radio. She danced unabashedly in the seat beside him, throwing her head back and laughing along with the song.

"Look around your world, pretty baby,

Is it everything you hoped it would be?

The wrong guy, the wrong situation,

The right time to roll to me . . ."

A slight smile quirked upwards on the corner of his lips as he turned his attention back to driving.

"What?" Jean questioned, breaking the comfortable silence between them.

"Hmm?"

"What are you smirking at?" she demanded.

"I'm not smirking."

She rolled her eyes, "Fine, then what are you smiling at?"

"Nothing, really, you just look so cute when you dance like that," he replied somewhat nonchalantly, as though his reply had come from somewhere other than his logical mind.

Jean felt the heat rising to her cheeks, but instead of retorting, she merely murmured her thanks, a small smile creeping along her face. Usually she would have told Scott to stop pretending to be so nice, and the conversation would have escalated into a heated argument that served as a confidence booster for both of them. But today she was content to let it rest as it was, and accept the compliment Scott had been trying to pay her for years.

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