8 January

Mirror. n. 1. a reflecting surface, originally of polished metal but now usually of glass with a silvery, metallic, or amalgam backing 2. such a surface set into a frame, attached to handle, etc., for use in view oneself or as an ornament 3. any reflecting surface, as the surface of water under certain lighting conditions 4. a surface that is either a plane, concave, or convex and that reflects rays of light5. something that gives minutely faithful representation, image, or idea of something else 6. a pattern for imitation; exemplar 7. a glass, crystal, or the like, used by magicians, diviners, etc -v.8. to reflect in or as if in a mirror 9. to reflect as a mirror does 10. to mimic or imitate something accurately 11. to be or give a faithful representation, image, or idea of -adj12. capable of being played in retrograde or in inversion, as in read in a mirror placed beside or below the music

Rogue whisked her hands down her sides, lying the wrinkles in her shirt flat against her curves. Her eyes were glued to the lone mirror in her room as she pivoted her body to inspect it from multiple angles. Her face wasn't happy, but was far from it. "Nope," she murmured to herself, grabbing the bottom of the shirt with both hands. Pulling it over her head, she tossed the shirt onto the small pile on her bed. "An' that's all Ah have."

A light knock on Rogue's door alerted her to a potential guest. Caught up in the surprise, Rogue grabbed for the coat Remy bought her and pulled it around her half-naked torso. "Who is it?" she called out.

"Jean," the other person responded. "I understand you're having difficulties?" She waited respectfully for Rogue's response, but none come; Rogue was unsuccessfully fishing for a good way to respond. "May I come in?"

"Uh, sure. Door's open." She wrapped the faux leather tighter around her form, overlapping the two sides of the coat where it would normally zip up.

Jean stepped inside the younger girl's room, quickly shutting the door behind her. "It's kind of cold in the school, so I wouldn't suggest wearing anything too exposed," she began. Rogue saw her looking at the lumps of clothing on the bed, though she couldn't tell if Jean could distinguish each article.

"Ah don't think Ah'd want t'show much skin anyway," Rogue confessed with a tiny shrug. "How's crowd control?"

A sympathetic glance was thrown Rogue's way. "Not the best, especially after lunch and after school. A lot of people move slowly after school, though, so you'll want to move quickly in order to avoid the majority of everyone." She hesitated for a moment. "Scott could probably drive you back here."

"Scott or what othah choice?" Rogue questioned. She hadn't thought of how she would get to and from the school.

"The bus, really. The school's too far away to walk." She picked up a shirt from the mess. "I'll talk to him and find you in the morning tomorrow. Okay?"

"Alright." Rogue wasn't sure if agreeing with the older girl was a good idea or not, yet she did it anyway.

"You want to make a good impression on the people there," Jean stated as if reading Rogue's mind. For all Rogue knew, she was. "But you have limitations." She eyed the jacket Rogue was wearing. "Is that all you have?"

Rogue glanced down the front of it, conscious of the thick material clutched between her fingers in order to preserve her modesty. "Yeah. Remy bought it for me last week."

"About Remy ... watch out for him, please. He's a charmer and he's well aware of it." A small smile crept onto Jean's face before she was conscious of it enough to wipe it away. Rogue felt the seed of insecurity grow within her. Jean wasn't the only one that told Rogue to watch out for that boy. Even within a week she'd learned enough that Remy had quite a reputation and from the sounds of it, none of it was all that good.

"Ah'll try."

"You have a lot of green, yellow and black," Jean commented, switching the conversation to a new angle.

"Ah guess." Rogue felt like she was going to end up wearing what Jean suggested, whether she liked it or not.

"Have you ever tried pink?"

"Pink?" Rogue repeated, slightly surprised. "Ah s'pose Ah have, but Ah ain't partial ta it."

"You could borrow one of my blouses, if you'd like." Rogue was beginning to find the whole exchange rather creepy, seeing as Jean burst in and knew exactly where to start. She wondered if the girl often pulled off such a stunt.

"Maybe," Rogue offered, trying to be neutral.

Jean sorted through the other articles, only to find tops. "What do you have for pants. Although I think you'd look dashing in a skirt."

"Ah dunno. Some jeans, pair'a yoga pants, don't know 'bout a skirt."

Jean leveled a contemplating look at Rogue. "I don't think I have a skirt that would fit the look I'm thinking of. If all else fails, you could wear your yoga pants."

"Um," Rogue began, but was cut off.

"Let me go get my blouse." Before Rogue could say anything else, Jean disappeared to cater to Rogue's unspoken and subliminal wishes.