September 7th
It's just gone midnight and I am sitting on the roof of the mansion. It's a well known fact I like to spend an odd evening up here without my gloves or shoes, if it's warm enough I don't bother with a shirt. It's sad, I know, but it's as close to 'relaxed' I can get in a mansion full of people with no boundaries.
I rarely get visitors up here; everybody leaves me well enough alone. In all the drama of today I forgot to tell Jacob about the roof.
I was lying in just my jeans, reading, when he clambered up from the mansion. He noticed me and gave a smile,
"Sorry, I'm not bothering you, am I?" I shake my head and he sits down a metre or two away from me,
"How are you finding it?" I asked, he shrugged.
"It's cool. Kinda weird but kinda cool." I nod and look back at my book. There is silence as Jacob surveys the roof,
"Is Wolverine, or whatever she's called, always that...harsh?" I nod,
"Yeah, sort of. Hold that thought, I'll be right back."
I jump from the roof to my balcony and dive into my bedroom. Gloves, shoes, fleece. I give a glace into my mirror and quickly run a gloved hand through my curly hair, desperately in need of a cut. I'm back on the roof within the minute.
Jacob frowns at my gloved hands,
"You were saying? About Logan?" He nods,
"Yeah, she just seems a bit grumpy with me."
"She's like that with everyone. When I joined everybody hated me, Logan was good though, accepted me for me, no questions asked." He frowns at me,
"Why did no one like you?" I sighed,
"Before I came here I spent time with another mutant group, they didn't much like the X-Men." He nods and falls silent.
He's a skinny little thing, black hair and blue eyes. He's wearing a strange bright yellow coat too.
"Your hair is weird."
"So's your coat, but I didn't say anything about it." He grins and starts to stand up. He is just about to climb back into the mansion when he turns to me,
"What was your name again?"
"Rogue." He nods and leaves.
I'm used to people asking for my real name, which is Andy, I don't usually tell anyone though. I'm sure the professor knows; she has to deal with the inside of my head every Tuesday evening. John probably knows, being a telepath and all. Poppa too, but only because I told him.