It's my life
And I'm not sitting on the sidelines watching it
Pass me by
I'm leaving you my legacy
I gotta make my mark
I gotta run it hard
I want you to remember me
I'm leaving my fingerprints
I'm leaving my fingerprints
Don't give up
Don't give in
Build your house on the rock
Oh, not in the sand...
“Ya know, Jubes, I wish it was that easy.“
“It is, you just need to loosen up a little. So what if you can't touch anybody – doesn't mean you can't date.“
“Right,“ Kitty added eagerly, “at least you won't have some creep groping all over you, going third base on the first date.”
“Coz that is seriously gross,” Jubilee said, shuddering at the mental image of whatever her definition of “creep” was.
I collapsed onto my bed. This was exhausting.
You'd think it'd be easier to find a date, even with deadly skin. I mean, come on, those white bangs? Major turn-on if I might say so myself.
Even Logan liked them.
“You need a man,” Kitty summed up the no. 1 topic of the last few weeks.
“As do we,” Jubilee reminded her.
They exchanged a glance and then yelled, “Triple date!”, bursting into laughter.
“I have a man,” I muttered absentmindedly, not really thinking about what I was saying.
“Right, your super-exciting one-postcard-a-month relationship.”
“You need more than that, sweetie. Even if it's romantic and all...he's kind of like your father or something, which is so strange.”
“Urgh, shut up, Kit. You're making it sound weird. I never thought of Logan as my father. Ew.”
“Yes, ew,” Jubilee said. She'd never been a big fan of the whole claws-and-cigars deal.
Her loss, really.
“But you guys are right,” I said, propping myself up on my elbows. “I need some excitement. I can't just sit here and wait for him to return in like what, 4 years. I wanna have some fun.”
“That's the spirit, chica!” Kitty cheered.
I rolled my eyes and joined my friends in their laughter. I was gonna find a boy to date and if it was the last thing I did. Or he did; which was a little more likely considering my condition.
I'd just have to find someone who was into long sleeves in 90 degrees.
Or maybe someone with a glove fetish.
Even though that was just plain strange.
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