"Oh my gosh, did you hear about Dillon and that new girl?"

"He won't stop talking about it."

"Guess she really knew what she was doing."

"Well what would you expect anyway, have you heard whose daughter she is?"

"I'm not surprised, I mean did you see the way she'd been all over Jake McCoy for a while there, like didn't she know..."

"Figures a girl who dresses like that would be a total whore, the richest bitches always are..."

...

"Ah. J-Joanie."

"Yes, Logan."

Silence.

"Logan?"

"The kid."

"...Logan." She still doesn't look up from her pottery.

"Theotherlittlebratsaretalkin'abouther." He says it too fast.

"Come again?"

"I said..." He huffs. "I said the rest of the kids are talkin' about her."

"Oh." It's a vase she's attempting to make. Something she can put in her own room here, add some flowers, maybe brighten it up some. Roses, maybe. "Nothing good, I'd imagine. What's she done now?" She answers him, airy.

"Well, uhm..just..promise not to shoot the messenger?"

Brows furrowing, Joan finally looks up from her pottery, turning to her ex-lover.

He scrubs a hand through his too-short hair and down to rub at the back of his neck. "It's just..yah're really not gonna like this..."

...

The doors of the art room fly open fast enough that some of the papers on Anna's desk go flying.

Carol looks up just as the rest of the students do, as they've got at least a half hour of class time left. Her stomach drops a bit, though, when she sees its her mother causing the disturbance. "I'm sorry." Joan Fletcher says tightly, addressing Anna. "But I need to steal my daughter. Carol James, we need to talk, now."

Carol gets to her feet obediently and begins gathering her things. Anna watches her go with eyebrows raised, but says nothing. The other kids around murmur among themselves, but that's aright, Carol's used to that.

Her mother doesn't say a word, just takes Carol's arm and marches her along down the halls until they reach the room the older woman has been staying in.

Logan is there waiting. He looks and smells wary, like this definitely wasn't his plan for the day at all.

"What's he even doing..." Carol starts, sounding petulant but unable to help herself.

"Ah, you know, kids got a point Joanie, is this really my -"

Joan just looks at him. Just looks. The Wolverine's mouth snaps shut, and his expression is almost that of a frightened puppy. He stays put. It would be downright comical under different circumstances.

"Okay. Mom." Carol tries again, contrite now. "Whatever, uh, 'it' is, I promise I didn't..."

Her mother lashes out, sharp and calculated. A hand connects with Carol's cheek. Hard.

Logan winces from his position a few feet away, murmuring an 'oof'. "Joanie..."

The older woman holds her hand up, and he once again shuts his mouth. Then she points at Carol. "Don't. You even. Start with me. You told me, you promised me this would be a fresh start, you promised me you'd try to behave."

"I have - I mean - what are you -?" Carol stutters, trying to beat around the only bush her mother could be trying to steer her towards.

"Holes deep enough, quit. Diggin'. Kid." Logan mutters.

"You know damn well what I mean Carol James Fletcher!" Joan screeches. "What were you thinking? Sneaking off with some boy just to - to..."

Carol brings a hand up to rub at the back of her neck, sheepish. "I was..just..blowing off steam is all, I mean...he offered pretty readily..." She glances at Logan, hoping for him to offer some kind of help, but he just brings a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, shaking his head.

"And just how much a habit has this sort of thing been for you, then, eh?" Joan tears into her further. "You sure write it off easy enough!"

"Uhm..all do respect, Ma..I probably shouldn't answer that." Carol has no desire to keep poking the hornets nest, but she'll now be in trouble no matter what she says.

"I can't believe this." Her mother barks back. "You're grandmother warned me, you know, from the very start, she told me I had better work harder to reign you in, wild child that you were, but I was so convinced -"

Carol says nothing more as her mother goes on. She stands straight, keeps her mouth shut, and just takes the verbal beating. She does deserve it after all, in more ways than her mother knows.

"...maybe I should send you up to live with her for your last year of school, Lord knows my mother will teach you some manners if no one else can!"

A tear slides down Carol's cheek. But she still says nothing.

"Joanie." Logan speaks up again, firmer this time. He probably smells Carol's tears. "I think that's enough for -"

"Oh, what do you know James?"

"More than you think. You need to cool it."

"I had thought you might be more upset." Joan spits back. "Does this sound somehow okay to you?"

"Well I'm not exactly..." His brows are furrowed. He heaves a sigh. "You know what? Get out of here kid."

Carol glances at him, and then her mother, and them him again, conflicted now.

"If you're not gonna bother to trying acting like her -"

"Joanie, yah're pissed. I get it, the kid gets it, half the damn mansions probably got it by now, yah need ta cool it, an' we need ta talk. Kid, get out of here."

Heart racing, tears flowing, frustration welling up and settling like a bomb in her belly, Carol darts out the door like a frightened animal.

Her mother's words are echoing in her head. Over and over. Reign you in - wild child - grandmother was right...

Grandmother was right.

Well fine. Apparently she was never fooling anybody anyway. She stalks down the hallway and back to the girls dorm. Thankfully nobody is in there; classes won't officially let out for another twenty minutes or so. Carol tears out her earrings, slips off the ring her grandmother had passed down to her, pulls off the little gold necklace her mother bought her a year ago - the chain breaks with a satisfying 'snap'. Reaches inside the duffle bag beneath her bed and slips out the debit card her mother had helped her obtain - it contains all her savings from fighting in the Warehouse, a considerable stock.

And now she knows exactly what she's gonna do with it.

...

The door slams shut so hard there's an audible crack as the door frame cracks a bit. Logan sighs. Someone needs to teach that girl to be more aware of her own not-inconsiderable strength. Really, someone needs to teach that girl a lot of things she just clearly doesn't know about being what she is, and the thought twists his insides. He should've been there to teach her long ago.

Joan stalks over, shoulders slumped now, and collapses to sit on the edge of her bed, hunched in on herself in such a way that she looks older than she ought to, and tired. So tired. Maybe now isn't the time for this conversation, after all, and he quietly says as much himself.

"No." She says quickly, before he can even make it to the door. "No, Logan, stay, please, you're right. We have to talk. Carol is...Carol has always been a bit more than I can handle. I've tried, so hard, but clearly I failed."

"Well." He blows out a breath. "Truth is, we both dropped the ball here in a lot of different ways. But we're not gonna do her any good by just sittin' around feelin' guilty over it."

"I know." Joan scrubs her hands over her face. "I'm just out of ideas. She barely talks to me anymore, won't trust me, and then she goes and pulls a stunt like this, and I didn't even know this was at all like her until recently. I don't know my own daughter anymore."

Logan runs a hand over the stubble that generously coats his cheeks and chin, thinking now. "You know, maybe..." But he never gets to finish the thought, because a sound he knows all too well reaches his feral ears and steals all of his attention away.

"Logan?" Joan questions, worried now. "What's wrong?"

"My 'bike. That - that sounds like my 'bike." But who would dare to..to... "Dammit." He barks, sprinting out of the room.

He knows who it is.

He hadn't realized...he'd underestimated her. He'd underestimated her big time. By the time he gets down to the garage, his old Indian Panhead - the one he'd personally restored and decked out with a superior engine - his baby - is gone. "Oh. You sneaky little brat." He mutters, running an incredulous hand through his hair. "Jesus, you got some brass, kid, I'll give yah that. I told Jack not to go teachin' yah..." Laughter escapes his lips as he turns to wander back inside and up to his room. She'd have had to slip into it and steal the keys herself, and sure enough, the doors wide open when he makes it there, and there's a cigar missing along with his keys. He'd never locked the room before, never needed to. None of the other kids would dare to do something like this. Only his daughter. Is it bad that he's more impressed than angry?

This kid..this kid is goin' places. Maybe nowhere good. But she's goin' places.

...

She hates hair salons. They always smell of so many chemicals; she's been here maybe twenty minutes and she's already got a headache.

The hairstylists smiles brightly as she runs her hands through Carol's hair. "My goodness, there's so much of it, and so soft too! So it's just a trim your wanting, I'd suppose? Clean up the split ends a bit?"

Carol shakes her head and brings a hand up to where she actually wants it.

The stylists eyebrows shoot sky high. "All of it?"

"All of it."

"Oh. Are you sure?"

"Yeah, lady, I'm sure."

"Well...alright, I suppose." And though it looks as though it pains the woman, snip goes the scissors.

Carol smiles as the chunks of unruly brunette waves drop down to litter the floor around her. This...this feels like freedom.

...

She's sitting in the parking lot of a burger place sometime later, puffing contentedly on one of His cigars, when her cellphone rings some three hours later. It's Him. Joan must've put the number in Carol's phone at some point. She huffs, but decides to answer. At least it isn't her mother.

"Tell Ma to relax. I ain't dead or dyin'. Hey, is that even possible for us?"

"Trust me, kid, yah don't want ta test that out." Logan's gruff baritone replies, sounding oddly unpreturbed. "You plannin' to head home sometime today, or...?"

Carol answers with a put upon sigh. "If I have to. Is my Ma still pissed?"

"Like you wouldn't believe, but yah know, yah did that to yahrself, I ain't feelin' much in a sympathetic mood."

"Eh. She'll live."

His voice becomes a commanding half-growl. "Look, it's not a suggestion kid. Get yahr little ass home. And there better not be a single scratch on my baby when yah get here."

Carol rolls her eyes. "C'mon, old man. I got respect enough for the 'bike, at least."

...

"Hey! What the hell?"

Carol's too busy frantically looking the 'bike over to make sure she hadn't banged it up. It doesn't look like...but she'll be in such big trouble if there is...

To be fair to Carol, the road had given way to a sharp turn, and she honestly hadn't seen the stupid little Prius until it was just ahead of her. To also be fair to the other driver, Carol had been going well over the posted speed limit in her haste to get back before she'd be in 'you-broke-curfew' amounts of trouble. And to be fair from the perspective of anyone who doesn't own a powder blue Prius..anyone driving that car probably deserved the scare. What kind of person even buys a car like that, anyway?

The answer to that question is stalking towards Carol with a thunderous expression that might prove intimidating to anyone else. Carol isn't much bothered now she's confirmed that the motorcycle is fine.

The owner of the Prius, on the other hand... Just Carol's luck they'd be heading the same place.

Tall. Natural red hair. Green eyes. Flawless skin save for the light orange freckles splashed across her nose. Wearing skin tight skinny jeans and lace trimmed pink blouse. Carol hates her already, but throws up her hands in surrender. "Hey, sorry, it's..totally my fault, didn't realize-"

"My back doors got a dent the size of Texas, your lucky I was able to drive away after hitting that tree!"

"Hey, it's fine, I can pay for the car, princess -"

"Yeah, maybe next time just watch where you're going on that death trap, instead!" The redhead barks back.

"Yeah, ok, just take it easy -"

"Carol? Sarah?" Ororo. She's just entered the garage and is coming towards them, looking thoroughly confused. "Girls, what's going on?"

Carol glances at the redhead - Sarah - and rubs the back of her neck sheepishly. "I..got a little carried away headin' up the road, is all, and -"

"She nearly ran me off the road." Sarah interjects. "Must've been doing at least ninety, what do you have, a death wish?"

"You keep screechin' at me like that, princess, I just might."

"Excuse me." Sarah snaps.

"Enough." Ororo says firmly. "Carol," she pauses, looking Carol over finally and with some clear confusion, "just get inside, your mother's worried and Logan is too."

Carol grabs the backpack that had been strapped firmly to the 'bike and slips it on, hardly taking her eyes off Sarah, who's eyeing her as well.

"Pansy ass car like that, you were askin' fer it anyway." Carol grumbles.

"Who do you think you are anyway, new girl?" The redhead barks back.

"Girls." Oror snaps, clearly exasperated.

Carol runs a hand through her hair. "I'm goin'. Sorry, Ms. Munroe." She stalks off across the garage with hands stuffed in the pockets of oversized blue jeans, even as she can feel the redheads eyes still boring into her.

Well. She was bound to make an enemy sometime.

...

"Your..your hair." Her mother looks more exhausted than angry, and her eyes go wide as dinner plates as realization sets in.

Carol scoops the brunette waves up back behind her ear. She'd always wanted to do this. There's so much of the stuff atop her head, washing it had always been a pain. But her grandmother had insisted...well, not anymore. The mop that had once reached over halfway down her back now barely reaches her shoulders.

"You - you could've at least warned me." Her mother goes on, fretful now.

Carol just shrugs.

"And the clothes?"

"Looked more comfortable."

"You look like - like a hoodlum."

Carol raises an eyebrow and snorts. She's wearing flannel and blue jeans. Aside from being a little oversized, the look is... well, not much different from the one Logan's usually sporting, and no one seems to have a problem with that. She sure as hell did not do that on purpose, by the way. "Gee. Thanks, Ma. Look, I'm - I'm sorry I ran off. I'm here, I'm okay, I'll go to bed now like a good little girl."

"Carol. For heaven's sake, will you just talk to me?"

Carol closes her eyes, blows out a breath, and...and comes to a decision. "Jamie."

"What?"

"Jamie. That's what all my actual friends back home called me." She crosses her arms. "I hate Carol and you know it so why do you have to call me that?"

"Well - I just - your grandmother -"

"Is a crusty, mean old hag who literally only likes people if she can control them like puppets. I'll be eighteen in less than a year and she hasn't controlled me like that in a while anyway." She meets her mother eyes. "My names Jamie."

The older woman nods. "Yeah. Ok. Your names Jamie. Anything else I should know while we're at it, or can we be done with the surprises for now? I love you to bits, daughter mine, but you're gonna give me gray hairs."

"...gonna? Uh, hate to break it to yah, old woman..."

There's a smile already tugging at her mother's lips. "Don't you dare finish that sentence."

Jamie rolls her eyes and shuffles across the room, throwing her arms around the older woman's shoulders. "Look, I just..I screwed up and I'm super sorry but I'm so done pretending, Mom, it's exhausting."

Slender fingers run themselves through Carol's much shorter hair. "Okay. Then stop pretending, and I'll try to be understanding of things. Not another stunt like this one, though." She pulls back and takes Carol by the shoulders, pinning her with a hard stare. "You're not eighteen yet and this place has rules. Behave."

Jamie nods readily, sincere. "Yes, Mom."

"And be more respectful towards your -," Joan catches herself just in time, "towards Logan. He means well, I promise."

"If I have ta." Jamie huffs and picks her backpack up from where she'd dropped it near the door.

"And is that one of his cigars you stole? I'd know that smell anywhere and so help me Carol James Fletcher, if I smell it on you again..."

Jamie pretends not to have heard her as she stalks off down the hallway.

...

"Ah. You gonna..say somethin'? Or...?" Jamie raises an eyebrow at the girl sat on the bed just next to hers.

It's Tash, of course, who's got arms crossed and a thinking face on.

"I mean, ah, I didn't think I looked that scary." Jamie jokes.

Tash's face screws up kinda funny. "Actually, I'm now pretty well convinced you could be wearing a trash bag and you'd still be hot. I think I hate you."

Incredulous laughter is all that Jamie can manage in response. "Aww, c'mon, that's a lie, yah couldn't hate me if yah tried!"

"...ok, I totally couldn't, but the point still stands!"

...

"Hey! Carol! Carol...? Wait, is that you?"

Jamie's frozen. She can't make her legs move. She wants to run away but she just..she can't. Because he's coming towards her and she knows this feeling. Her hearts pounding a mile a minute, her palms are sweaty, there's butterflies in her stomach for crying out loud! She's done this before. She knows this feeling and isn't ready to do it again, not really, not even if he were available, but Wild Thing holds her in place. Stupid. Talk to future-mate.

For a moment everything around her seems to move along in slow motion. She can hardly even breathe as she's so busy trying to push Wild Thing back, back, back. He's not 'future-mate', he's taken, and they're only seventeen besides.

"Carol? What happened to your... I mean... You look..."

But the sound of her name and the strange sight he presents is enough to pull her back to reality. She snorts, trying for derisive. "Speak for yourself."

He stares at her blankly for a moment, as though he really doesn't understand, and then... "Oh!" He glances down at his own hands awkwardly. They're pale and thin and there's not a tuft of fur in sight. In fact, there's not a tuft of fur in sight on the rest of him, either, and he's looking far too scrawny for her liking to boot . "Right. Ahah. It's - a test run. For something. Hel-helping my dad out, that's all."

Wild Thing cringes, retreating quickly and willingly back into her cage. Wrong. Not future-mate now. Go ahead and run.

Jamie huffs a growl at herself, then glances at him. "Playing guinea pig. Gotta earn that cash somehow, huh? Bet your girlfriends proud." She answers, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Now if you'll excuse me, McCoy, I've got a class to get to." She slips around him.

He follows. "Now wait just - Carol, look, I know I haven't been around so much the past few weeks, I'm sorry."

"Jamie."

"What?"

"My name. It's Jamie. And why should I care where you've been, McCoy?"

"Jamie." He tests the name out and nods once. "Right. Er - I mean, you shouldn't I guess, I just, I know - I mean..."

"You got somethin' to say, just spit it out already, dude."

He strides ahead a few paces and stops her in her tracks again. "I've been a terrible friend and I'm sorry. Will you forgive me?"

Wild Thing peeks back out from hiding. Sounds like future-mate though.

Jamie looks up into his eyes and knows instantly that she can't not forgive him. "Yeah. Sure." A pause. She runs a hand through her hair. "Ah, anythin' else you wanna get outta yahr system before we move on?"

He looks her over. "Hmmm. The hair. Yeah, it's definitely mostly just the hair."

She rolls her eyes. "What is it with everyone and the hair?"

"I mean...if a little bit butch is what you were goin' for..."

She hits his arm. Hard.

"Hey! Ow! God! Watch those guns of yours, will yah, they pack a punch!" But he's actually laughing.

She rolls her eyes at him, playful. "Yeah, well. Now we're even, yah wimp."

...

She sees Him and her Mom talking.

She smells the cigars He smokes on her mother, as if the older woman has been joining Him outside when He slips out to have one.

She knows where the extra money must've come from when her mother takes her shopping again.

None of these things bother her really. Well, they do a little. But they're forgivable.

The night her mother disappears - ostensibly with Him, since no one sees hide or tail of Him either - and sleeps til noon the next day...the way she finally appears when Carol comes to check on her, hair a mess and makeup smeared. The stale whiskey she smells of.

Joan Fletcher had never worn red lipstick before, at least not that Carol had ever seen. She also, most certainly, had never drank whiskey.

This...this is not ok.

But Jack says leave it alone, and Carol's growing to respect him. So she tries. She really does.

...

"A bunch of us girls are going out to play basketball." Tash chirrups one afternoon after classes let out, hands up fixing her hair into a ponytail. "You should totally come join us, it's sooo pretty outside today!"

"Basketball. Uh, not really my thing, Tash."

"I know, I know, I can see why, shorty." There are very few people who can get away with teasing Jamie about this particular thing. Tash, somehow, has just managed to worm her way onto that list. "But c'mon, it's all in good fun. Like I said, it's just us girls. Preeetty pleeease?"

Jamie rolls her eyes and huffs out a half-growl and just gives in because resistance is futile, Tash is just too sweet to refuse. "Fine, fine. One game!"

"Yay! C'mon, get ready, lets go!"

It is a beautiful day outside. The suns shining bright and the mid-October chill has disappeared for a day, though the leaves on the many trees around are turning all sorts of lovely shades of orange and red and yellow. Jamie supposes this may not be so bad an idea, after all. There's a decent group of other girls gathered around the court, and the game starts off good-natured enough.

Jamie finds she's pretty good at playing defense, if nothing else, and doesn't mind this at all. The team she and Tash are on even manages to score a three pointer because of her help, winning the game.

"You can't tell me you aren't having fun." Tash says as they stop to catch their breath. "Play again with us?"

"We could really use you actually." "Yeah, those were some pretty decent moves you were pulling, how come you never told us you could play basketball?" A couple of other girls chime in.

"We might have to re-work things a bit, though, one of our girls just got called in to see Ms. Munroe." A girl from the other team informs them.

"I can sit this one out then." Jamie shrugs.

"Or you could let me join in!" A new voice calls out, and all the girls turn to face the newcomer - a tall, bright-eyed redhead.

"Oh, hey Sarah!" "I didn't realize you were back!" "Of course you can play with us!" The other girls fawn over her.

Jamie doesn't realize she's scowling until the redhead - the same girl she'd almost clipped with Logan's 'bike days earlier - comes to face her with hands planted on her hips and a smirk planted on her lips. "Problem, new girl?"

Jamie huffs, but shakes her head. "Nah, no problem. C'mon, lets do this, then, girls!"

The ball is a blur this time around. Jamie can hardly tell what's happening for all that the firebrand is a whirlwind, bouncing her way across the court, long legs bouncing gracefully around the other players. She's playing perfectly fair, too - with everyone else.

The ball gets swiped right out of Jamie's hands three times. Spiked out a fourth as she goes to shoot it at the net - that shot would have made it, too. Falls out the fifth time, mostly because Jamie's thrown clear off her feet, and now, now Wild Things pissed.

"Time the hell out!" She roars, climbing to her feet, fists clenching, not even wincing at the road-rash that's already healing itself over on her arm and leg.

All the girls are already frozen in place. One picks up the ball before it can roll away, but beyond that, scarce a muscle is moved. They're gazes dance between Jamie and Sarah, unsure of what's even going on.

Jamie barely notices the sudden silence. Her hearts pounding in her ears and Wild Thing is begging to hear a bone break and...and...

And Tash is standing a little ways behind Red, eyes wide, mouth quietly forming the words 'Jamie, don't!'

Dammit. Jamie closes her eyes and counts. Slowly. 1..2..3..4..5.. Her fists unclench themselves as she beats Wild Thing back with a mental cattle prod. "Ahkay. Yah feel better, now?"

"What?" The redhead asks, confused. Or at least, pretending pretty well. "I was playing the game, new girl, that's all."

Jamie glances around at the other girls. They just look confused, mostly, but the way they had welcomed Sarah into the game earlier suggests that picking a fight with the redhead here wouldn't end well for Jamie.

"Yeah. Sure." Jamie grumbles. "Whatever you say, Barbie doll. Forget this, I'm out, guys!" She pushes past Red and back towards the mansion.

She can feel the pair of big green eyes glaring at her back as she goes. She throws a hand up with a certain finger raised high and just keeps walking.

...

"Hey, I'm so sorry I'm late, it's just I couldn't sleep - sleep last - aw, c'mon!" It comes out in a hurried rush, and Jamie can't help the last exclaimation. She just can't win.

She feels doubly bad for being late because even though it's Saturday, it's a painting lesson with Anna she's late for, and she's come to like Anna. Anna is actually very sweet, and Jamie's finding she has a strange amount in common with the woman. She usually tries extra hard to be on time for their sessions, but last night...

They're two weeks into November now, and Jamie had almost forgotten what day it even was. So much had been going on around her, she'd actually managed to lose track of how much time was passing, but the day before it had hit her like a freight train when her mother (accidentally) mentioned it. Clearly, the whole thing still weighed on the old woman, too, though certainly for very different reasons.

Jamie had, mostly, managed to put it back out of her mind for the day, but trying to find sleep the night before had been a nightmare. And that was before she fell asleep and the actual nightmare started. She'd tossed and turned the whole night, unable to make the images leave her mind - the little red sports car, His corpse slumped against it, and her claws covered in blood. She'd even woken Tash up at one point, and then woken up just earlier to notice holes in her bed sheets from where she'd popped her claws in her sleep.

"Jamie?"

Oh. Right. Anna. "Oh, uhm, sorry, sorry. I just..."

The problem is, Anna wasn't alone. "Oh. Hello, again." It's The Redhead. She blinks at Jamie, looking actually surprised. "This is who your sessions with?" She asks Anna.

"Yep!" Anna chirrups in response. "Babygirl's got some talent too!"

"Huh." Sarah crosses her arms, a sour look contorting her features. "I wouldn't have guessed."

"You..two..know eachother?" Anna asks, clearly confused.

"Oh, I know of her, that's for sure."

"Oh, really? Well, I'm full of surprises." Jamie answers tightly. "I'm just startin' to wonder if you've got any up your sleeve, or if you're actually as full of shit as you seem to be."

The redhead snorts. "You talk awful tough for a girl who looks about twelve."

Jamie's fists clench. A growl rumbles up her throat.

Anna clears her throat. "Sarah, sugah, it was just wonderful to get to visit with yah but Jamie and I have a standin' engagement on Saturdays, maybe we could catch up some more later, peaches."

A smile graces Sarah's pink, too-perfect lips now, relaxed and sweet. "Of course!" She leans in to give Anna a hug and then struts towards Jamie, hips swaying haughtily. "See you around."

"I don't know what that was about." Anna comments once the redhead is out of earshot. "But if your going to pick a fight with a Summers, I'd recommend be very careful about where you do it."

"Thanks, I think." Jamie grumbles. She's too tired to want to deal with this now. "Can we just get to painting please?"

...

Later that day, when she slips back into the girls dorm to grab something, she's heavily surprised to find that someone had changed out her bed sheets for her. The bed is made neatly, sans holes, and if Jamie's not mistaken, they smell just faintly of a certain perfume...

And hidden just beneath the pillow, much to Jamie's delight, is a cigar. Exactly the kind Logan smokes, but Jamie knows whose doing this actually was.

The only question is, how did Anna even know...? And why would the older girl have had one of Logan's cigars?

...

Did she just...did she just see that?

She can't believe it. She won't. That cannot be true. There's no way. Jake is...and she's so...ugh! No! That's just not even right!

But she is seeing it. Jake McCoy, in a serum-induced state of normal, his fur all in hiding, has long arms wrapped firm around Sarah's obnoxiously tiny waist. And they're kissing! Oh, hell no.

Wild Thing fights for half-control, disgusted. If it had been anyone else, maybe she'd have let it go. There's a lot she could forgive, honestly, there is. But not this. Not her. Before Carol can claw her way back to sanity, Wild Thing is storming over to the couple. "You're kidding. Please, tell me you're kidding."

Jake turns halfway to face Jamie, brows furrowed in clear bewilderment. "Erm...hey, Jamie. It's good to see you, too."

"Hey, sorry, yeah, hi. Now, tell me you're kidding."

"I don't understand."

"That makes two of us." Sarah interjects, but she's lying now, Jamie can smell it. "What's your problem, new girl?"

Wild Thing glares, but refuses to be bothered with talking to the firebrand. Instead, she turns to Jake, hands on her hips. "Please, tell me my eyes are somehow playin' tricks on me. This, this snot-nosed little Barbie doll cannot possibly be your girlfriend."

"Hey! Watch it. She is my girlfriend." He looks mostly just confused. "Jamie, this is Sarah Summers. Sarah, this is Jamie."

"Oh, we've met." Sarah replies smoothly.

"Oh. What?" Jake. Still confused.

"So that's what this is about, huh?" Jamie barks as realization dawns at the redhead. "Kids in this place talk too much. Whatever they said, it ain't true. I wouldn't lay a hand on another girl's man, s'not my style."

"Wait, what?" Jake looks at his girlfriend, eyes wide. "You thought - why would you even think that?"

Jamie interjects again before the redhead can answer, smirk playing at her lips now. "Actually, I've usually found that girls who jump to that conclusion tend to be the cheatin' type themselves."

"I didn't hear anything." Sarah answers coolly, crossing her arms. "And I still don't know what you're talking about, new gi- I'm sorry. Jamie?"

"Like hell you don't!" Jamie growls, her frustration growing. "You know, I knew he had a girl already, but I can't imagine what the hell he could possibly be doing with a yuppy like you!"

"Jamie!" Jake barks back at her. "What is the matter with you."

Jamie turns to him. "Can I talk to you? Alone?"

The redhead interjects forcefully before Jake can answer. "We were just on our way out."

"I'll catch you later." Jake promises, scowling at his girlfriend. "I promise."

Sarah pulls him away before Jamie can answer, and Jamie just glares at the redheads back as they go, wanting nothing more than to wipe that smug look off the other girls face via a broken nose.

Goddamned overgrown Barbie doll.