We both want this. We both know it's impossible. And it only makes us want it more.

"So, you need condoms or something?" Jean asks tiredly.

She's nice and she wants to help, but something's going wrong inside her head. She rubs her forehead too often, her skin is very pale, and those dark circles around her eyes make her face look like a skull. But it's not my business, and there's nothing I can do.

"I don't think they will protect him," I answer.

"They will protect you."

I look at her. It's late night--not exactly the time when the teacher and a student can have conversations like that. But she's more than a teacher for me--she's my mother. Because she takes me as I am and isn't afraid of me. If Logan and me ever need condoms, they will have to be like those in "Naked Gun"--covering my entire body.

"You're a mermaid," Jean suddenly says.

Now I'm entirely sure that she does have problems. She's talking about crazy things. I wonder if Mr. Summers ever heard them.

"You're a mermaid," she repeats, smiling comfortingly. "I was testing your skin's samples and came up with a very interesting fact."

I don't dare ask. I was crushed to the ground with the cruel reality so many times, but the hope in my heart never dies.

She suddenly grabs her glass with water and splashes it out onto my face. The water is cold and her action is so unexpected, all I can do is freeze for a moment. And then she does another crazy thing--she stretches her hand out and touches my forehead with it. The realization comes into my mind: she wants to commit suicide in her own special way.

I start to pull back, trying to tear away from our skin contact, but she uses her telekinetic gift to keep my chair in its place. My brain is screaming different thoughts in panic, but then I realize that nothing is happening to Ms. Grey. She continues to sit on her chair and touch me, like she is trying to measure my temperature. She smiles and looks into my eyes calmly, then slowly takes her hand away.

"What was that?!" I breathe out.

"I had to take my hand away, your skin started to get dry."

Her green gaze becomes clearer. She takes a sip of water and smiles to me again, like my mother used to before I started...oh, you know--to scare her.

"Water is your protection," she simply says. "When your skin is wet, well, there's too many scientific terms, but let's just say water can't conduct your powers."

You know, when your life is shit, you're ready to sing aloud, when it gets a bit better .

"But what about when I was kissing David?"

"It was your first kiss, Marie. You were nervous, so your lips were dry. It makes sense, don't you think?"

This is one of the strangest moments of my life. I feel like a person suddenly cured from cancer when there was no more hope. She is telling me that I can touch. In a strange way, but I can. She's watching me, rubbing her forehead again.

"But are you... are you sure?"

"I'm a scientist. I won't tell you facts until I test them all million times. So now go and sleep well--a big experience is waiting for you. And Professor won't be glad if he catch us like this, talking about dirty things in the four o'clock in the morning."

Yeah, I need to go to sleep. I need to prove to myself that this isn't a dream. And, of course, I need to tell Logan that we finally can take our relationship to another level--the physical level.

I hear her taking some pills for a headache behind my back. I'm sure Jean won't sleep tonight at all.

"Thank you," I tell her, because I really need to.

"You're welcome." She smiles back. "But you'd better not tell the Professor about the real goal of my little research. We have special lessons about safe sex here, you know, but of course, your and Logan's case is special."

THE END