"Welcome to Art Class." Rogue said as her first class of the day settled into their seats. She fidgeted with her fingerless gloves as the class stared at her.

She cleared her throat. "What is this, junior class?"

"Noooooo…, sophomore." Muttered a boy in the back row with bright green hair and a disheveled look.

What a freaky looking kid. Said Carol. Parents must be pissed.

"Carol!" She was so shocked by her friend she spoke out loud.

The green-haired boy was confused. "Ummm…no. I'm Jeffrey." He regained his confidence quickly and replied smoothly. "And you are?"

The class tittered.

Smart, Anna.

This time Rogue ignored the voice in her head. "Mah name is Anna Darkholme, but you can call meh Miss Darkholme. Okay, Ah'll take roll and then ya'll can ask any questions you want."

She quickly did so, noting that three of her students' residence was the Xavier institute: Jeffrey and two girls named Alyssa and Andrea, with identical black hair, brown eyes and mischievous looks.

After roll, she screwed the rules and perched on her desk. "Now any questions?"

The green haired boy's hand quickly shot up. She sighed. "Yes, Jeffrey?"

"What's with the motorcycle gloves?" That warranted multiple snickers from his classmates.

"Ah, yes, the eternal question," Rogue answered. "Ah find they remind me of mah fabulous Harley when Ah'm stuck with ya'll."

The class chuckled and Jeffrey, not to be outdone, piped up again.

"How old are you?"

She ignored him, sticking to the one annoying teacher rule she knew. "Those of you who want tah get mah attention must raise their hands."

He promptly raised his hand. "And for the record, Ah'm 22."

With that, the bell rang and the class hurried out the door, with the exception of Jeffrey, who walked up to her.

"My guardian told me to give this note to you, I live at the Institute."

She gave him a look, flustered, but still managed the teacherly "All right, but you had best be getting to class."

He started gathering up his belongings, shooting her a weird look.

She opened the note up, glancing quickly at the boy.

Dear New Art Teacher,

I would like to extend an invitation to you to join us at the Xavier Institute for dinner next Wednesday, as you are to be the mentor of several of my charges. Please send your answer through Jeffrey. It would be a pleasure to have you with us.

Much Thanks,

Charles Xavier

You know you're going.

"Ummmm….No?" She said under her breath.

Fine, then, I'm gonna do something I don't like to do, but I know you're gonna be stubborn.

"What!"

Jeffrey looked up at her as he swung his backpack up. "Sorry, you say something?"

Before Rogue could make up an excuse, she felt an all too familiar feeling come over her body. She couldn't see her eyes in the opaque chalkboard she was looking down at, but she knew if she could she'd see a hint of forget-me-not blue in the center.

"Yes," she heard herself say politely. "Tell your Professor I would love to come." Rogue felt her mouth move into what she assumed was a smile.

Jeffrey grinned at her, and quickly glanced down at the floor. "Great!" He said. "I'll see you there." He ran out the door as the bell rang, not bothering to ask for a note.

Rogue felt her body become her own again and wasted no time telling Carol off.

"What the hell? How could you do that?" She screamed and suddenly turned into a burst of coughing as her next class started to trickle in.

You'll go. She felt Carol smile, laughing at her when the students staring at Rogue prevented her from retaliating. As long as Rogue couldn't protest, she would have fun with this.

And I'm picking your outfit.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………

Take that! I told you I would update. I changed this a bit from the original story I wrote a year ago in my notebook, definitely for the better. I thought Carol might help with the angst it was drowning in. Oh, I don't own anything Marvel does.