Thanks to noro and cylobaby for the reviews, greatly appreciated guys :)
Why Does It Always Rain On Me?
Food, food, food, food…
Okay, drama averted, I knew where I was going, no seriously I did. Don't you dare be so sceptical, have you any idea what I'm standing in front of at this exact moment?
Nope, didn't think so. Look closer, I'm here. There's a small store to my left, a diner to my right and a bar a few hundred yards down the road, a real life hands down bar. A bar that sells ice cold beer on tap, whiskey shots and a happy hour.
No, I didn't just squeal in delight. Okay, I may have done, just a teensy-weensy bit but in my defence that is the first bar I've seen in days. I won't be setting foot inside there though, I have to speak to Logan first. Yes, I have finally got my priorities straight.
Grovelling and apologies first, drinking second, getting as high as a kite third and forth... Um... let me get back to you on that. I'm slightly scatter brained at the moment; all I can think about is food, food and food.
"What can I get you, honey?"
I'm finally here, after five damn days, I can eat, eat, eat to my hearts content.
"Um, let me see." I mutter to myself scanning the laminated menu. "Can I have the fried chicken, double fries, the cheese omelette, a portion of butter milk pancakes. How many pancakes would that be?"
"Ten" The waitress answers as I lick my lips in anticipation.
Ten, how utterly marvellous.
"Great, now where was I? Oh, yeah, the pancakes, an extra large pizza with pepperoni, sausage, beef, salami and extra, extra, extra cheese. Hmm, the triple cheese burger with lettuce, onions and tomatoes, a vanilla milkshake and you know what ,I think I'll have the chocolate one too." I smile at the surprised waitress resisting the urge to tell her to hurry the fuck up.
"Uh, is that all?" She asks blinking at me in surprise.
Do you know what, I'm actually not sure. You never know, it might be days until I'm able to eat again. That reminds me I must buy a can opener.
"Any desserts? The apple pie is on special this week."
A slice of mama's homemade apple pie, huh? "I think I'll pass." I have never looked at an apple pie the same since watching American Pie along with Jube's. It's just well, it's wrong, there have to be laws against being intimate with some disgusting mushy fruit encased in pastry.
"How about the chocolate brownies? They're freshly baked out of the oven"
Did she just say chocolate?
"Yes!" I shout almost leaping to my feet. Jesus, I need to get a hold of myself.
"Okay, so that's the fried chicken, double fries, cheese omelette, pancakes, large pizza with pepperoni, sausage, beef, salami, and extra, extra, extra cheese, a triple cheese burger with all the trimmings, a vanilla milkshake, a chocolate milkshake and a chocolate brownie." The waitress asks reading from her notebook and slightly out of breath.
"No, make that four brownies. Also a banana milkshake... Oh and the strawberry one too." Jesus, I'm extremely ravenous and I'm two steps away from gnawing the table cloth. "And do you do those doughnuts with the sprinkles on them?" The waitress nods her head. "I'll have two of those as well please." Seeing the startled look on the waitress's face, I hastily add, "I'm hungry, I've worked up an appetite...a huuuuuuge appetite." I claim alongside varied hand gestures hoping to get my point across.
I'm not a crazy person, I'm just famished. Yep, I have worked up an appetite moaning, sulking and generally feeling sorry for myself.
"Finished, honey?" The waitress questions eyeing the large stack of empty plates, dishes and glasses in front of me. "Any complaints?"
Yes, my tummy hurts.
"No" I watch her collect the crockery as I massage my aching stomach. I think it's safe to assume that my eyes are bigger than my belly.
"I'll get you the bill then"
The bill, holy shit. I can't even begin to explain the pitfalls of that sentence. You don't have any spare change or maybe a few ten dollar bills do you? I'll pay you back, I promise. Come on, what do you want me to do, beg?
"Here you are, call me when you're ready to pay." My stumpy, greasy haired waitress says handing me a fucking excessively long bill.
Fucking hell…! Eighty nine dollars and thirty seven cents and that doesn't even include the tax or the God damn tip. What the hell was in the food...gold dust! Okay I might be exaggerating to some degree there but have you seen the bill. No, I'm not a tight ass but Jesus Christ this is only some back water diner not an award winning Michelin star restaurant.
Where do they get off charging extortionate prices like that?
I check my pocket praying for a miracle and nope, its not happening. I have four dollars and fifteen cents... Um... Have you ever been so incredibly hungry that your common sense flees in search of nourishment and say you walk into a diner forgetting you have no money and go a tiny bit crazy and order almost everything on the menu, then eat it all but can't exactly pay for any of it? Has that ever happened to you? No, I thought not.
Leisurely drumming my fingers on the table top, I scan my mind for a simple solution. I could wash dishes...Ugh, maybe not. Apologise and cry? No way. I've spent days doing just that. I know, I've got it, I'll make a run for it.
Oh, if you could see the smug look plastered across my face. I sneak a peek through my tangled hair and I spot the waitress in deep conversation with the cook, perfect. Okay here goes nothing, I can't believe I'm even contemplating doing this. Five, four, three, two, one and I'm out my seat and dashing out of the door without a second glance.
Jeez, why did I eat so much? Its making it hard to run even remotely fucking fast. Ugh, I'm surplus blubber and grease on legs.
"Can I help you, young lady?"
Huh, oh yes, I wonder if they have a phone I could use. I'm currently hiding, I mean browsing at the merchandise in the quaint general store.
"Uh, yeah you can, you don't have a phone I could possibly use do you? I don't have much cash you see and I need my family to wire me some up here." Okay, okay a slight white lie. No I don't have any funds, dough, coins or bucks but at least I can fish for some much needed information. Oh the trials and tribulations of being Marie and I do hate being kept in the dark.
"Of course you can." She answers softly ushering me into the back room of the store. "Make yourself at home." What a kind elderly lady, maybe a little too friendly though, you can never be to careful. She reminds me of an older version of my mama...Well before she became a walking, talking bible basher prone to hateful outbursts that is.
"Are you okay?" I ask worriedly as she hobbles painfully across the room. "Here, sit down." I gently take hold of her arm and guide her carefully towards her chair.
"Thank you, its not often I meet a young person such as yourself. Others are often too concerned with their own trivial lives..." She grimaces in pain as she sits down.
"Some might not agree." I answer thinking of how hurt Logan seemed the last time I saw him. "What happened to your leg?"
Um, that should have been what happened to your leg and arm because I could have sworn I just saw an enormous bruise located on her wrist as she absent mindedly rubbed her sore ankle.
"Oh, I just fell, dear, you know how it is."
Do I? I've had my fair share of drunken unexplainable bruising, so who am I to judge? This lady is entitled to her privacy and I'm sure somebody makes sure she's okay, not struggling and has a can opener… Fuck you, Logan.
"The phone is over there." The lady points to the small cabinet by the window. "Help yourself."
"Thanks." I smile sympathetically at the kind elderly lady as she winces once again in pain.
Picking up the phone, I desperately dial the mansion's number and shift from foot to foot in a fidgeting frenzy. I like a good fidget, you know, when I'm nervous, pissed off, piss drunk, tired, lonely, hungry, bored and high.
Come on, someone please pick up, pick up, pick up, pick up, pick up, pick up.
"Bonjour"
Oh shit, not him, anybody but him. Remy creeps me out, he's always so flirtatious. He makes me feel dirty every time I talk, smile or gaze in his general direction.
"Ugh…" Did I just groan? Aw, hell.
"Y'haven't met Gambit yet an' y'already groanin', I be privileged. Y'are a fille ain't you?"
What the fuck am I supposed to say to that? I slam the receiver down in embarrassment instead of answering and Christ, I'm hyperventilating. I lower my head between my knees and breathe deeply demanding that I get a fucking grip.
"Dear?"
"Wrong number,"
"Yes, I see how that may cause such a reaction." She remarks wisely and smiling knowingly. "I remember when I used to act like that on the phone. Oh, it was so many years ago. So many, many years ago."
I grin in her direction politely and decide it's time to try this again without making an absolute fool out of myself. I reach for the receiver, dial the number and let it ring...
"Bonjour"
What, again? Is he doing this just to annoy me or does he have a fetish for causing over the phone heart attacks?
"Remy, I need to speak to Ororo." I state clearly as my heart races and my knees knock together. I'm not attracted to that Cajun flirt, nope, not me. I'm the only female he hasn't dated in this entire world. I'm sure he's even dated, dined and defiled the kind old woman sitting in this room with me.
"Chere!" He cries happily. "Did y'just ring?"
"No"
"Y'sure?"
"Yeah"
"Y'sure, y'sure?"
"Yes, Gambit."
"Y'sure, y'sure, y'sure?"
"Yeah, I'm sure!"
"Are y'tellin' Remy porkies?"
"Yeah!" I screech, holding the receiver in a death grip. "I mean, no. Not at all. I'm telling the truth. The absolute and complete truth on the matter."
"Hmm, don' believe y'chere but where y' been hidin'? Gambit been worried. You're de best drinkin' partner he's ever had. Course I'm not just sayin' dat because of de… All y'need to know is dat Gambit may kiss many a pretty femme but he never tells. Dat would be sacrilege, an' nobody wants t'hear bout' Remy's women anyway…"
"What are you rambling about?"
"Don' tell Gambit's he's dat easily forgotten." He purrs mockingly down the phone with a crackle.
"I won't tell you then…"
"Merde," He curses, the French causes me to fidget even more so. "Y'disappoint Gambit, Chere."
"Whatever," I sigh heavily and scratch my head in confusion.
"So, where y'at?"
"Canada. There are mountains. I'm living in a shack with no electricity. There isn't a can opener and it's freezing." I answer twirling that phone cord around my fingers.
I can't understand why I'm so nervous when I talk to him. No, I don't fancy him. Jubilee, now she's the girl that has the hots for him. I swear she melts into a puddle of molten lava every time he passes her by in the corridor. God forbid his hand should accidentally brush against her shoulder when he reaches for the peanut butter.
"That's where he dumped y'then?"
"What, Logan? Have you seen him, is he okay?" I demand fiercely, the fidgeting rearing it's ugly head again as I begin to rearrange the vase of flowers and numerous address books on the table.
Oh God, I hope he's okay. If that asshole dares die before I have the chance to make amends for being spiteful, I'd never forgive myself. I know he won't stay dead, but he can die. If it's a dangerous mission somebody might catch him and find a way to stop him from healing. Then what would I do?
"Not recently, de two bit bastard is still on his mission. I have de sneakin' suspicion he don' wanna hang out wit' Remy, though. De man's claws are very sharp, an' Gambit only said good mornin' t'de homme."
"Logan's not a bastard, he's a knucklehead. Hold on, you mean, he attacked you? Why would he do that? What did you do, did you steal his beer?"
"Non, Gambit's no beer thief. It be because of what happened dat night, Chere." Remy answers emphasizing heavily on the words that night.
"Would you care to explain?" I hiss impatiently.
"Remy made a promise t'Stormy, no chargin' her hairy friend."
"And?"
"After he caught us havin' fun, de homme made some wild accusations about Gambit's character." Remy answers trailing off.
I made out with him and Logan caught us. Well, that doesn't sound too bad, does it?
"Of course, Remy's sure de heavy pettin' didn't help matters."
"It was just heavy petting then?"
"Oui,"
Thank God for that. For a moment there, I thought we'd had both stripped butt naked and had boisterous and lust filled sex on the kitchen table. Now that would piss Logan off, but some harmless heavy petting? Sometimes I just can't understand the guy.
"When y' comin' back?"
"I don't know, Remy" I whisper gloomily, the tears wanting to dance across my cheeks. I don't know if I still have a life there. "Can you get Ororo for me?"
"Sure, anythin' for y'chere."
Oh, why did he have to say that? Now I feel the guilt settling in my stomach again.
Holding the phone to my ear and waiting patiently, I hear raised voices and shuffling in the background. "Remy, how many times do I have to tell you not to call me by that absurd name?" Storm questions with an air of astonishing grace. "Rogue, is that you?"
"Yeah, it's me." I respond awkwardly.
"How have you been, sweetie? Are you looking after yourself, do you have enough money, are you eating well, is something wrong?"
Damn, I've sent Ororo into a mothering frenzy. At least I can tell here I've certainly been keeping myself well fed.
"No, no, no, I'm fine." I just hope she listens and that sends a bag of coke my way. "I was just wondering about Logan, have you heard from him?"
"Not yet but don't worry, he can look after himself. You know him better then any of us." She sighs, the kindness in her voice stirring the tears yet again. "Look, I know you've had an argument. Logan wasn't very forthcoming when I tried to talk to him. This isn't me prying you understand, but I feel at fault."
I don't reply, I only wait patiently for her to continue. Over the last few days, the one lesson I have learnt is that waiting and patience go hand in hand together.
"I asked him to talk to you." Ororo says sounding as though she's admitting a major sin. "You both needed each other and I thought if I only found some way to make you talk. You see, that's where the mentoring scheme came in..."
"We have a mentoring scheme? Storm, I have no idea what you're talking about." I whisper harshly, fully aware that the kind old lady is still in the room. I always feel if I swear in front of the elderly, I'll be struck down by lightning and I'm not talking about Storm's mutation.
"Are you telling me, Logan never mentioned the mentoring scheme once?" She questions sounding stunned.
"What did you expect, when has Logan ever discussed anything with me? I'm obviously not worth the extra use of oxygen."
"I'm sorry, Rogue." Storm declares softly. "He should be in contact over the next few hours or so. Do you want to leave a message, I'll..."
"As a matter of fact, yeah, you can tell him when he can be bothered to come back, he can bring a fucking can opener!" I scream viciously and slam the phone down.
To hell with swearing in front of the kind old lady. How could they both do that to me? I feel so used, like some kind of pet project to be experimented on. I should have seen this coming. I have a piece of advice for all you folks at home; Life is full of secrets and lies, so don't be surprised when you get screwed over. Especially by your so called family.
"Dear, are you okay?" The kind old lady asked me worriedly from her chair.
"I'm fine. Don't worry about me, I'm always fine. Thanks for letting me use your phone." I answer feeling emotionally drained.
Please tell me why I was refusing myself admittance to the local bar today? Oh, that's right, I was waiting for Logan. Well fuck him, he's as bad as my fucking parents.
The pope is catholic, bears shit in the woods and Rogue allows herself to drown in vast amounts of liquor when she's fine. Why should I even attempt to change my behaviour? Nobody gives a crap about me and from now on I will be looking after number one and number one only.