Rogue,

Pain. Pain like you've never known it before. Pain coursing up and down your body like it's a racecar and you're the NASCAR track.

Also: The Smell.

Like garbage dipped in sewage and mixed with a good dose of hobo sweat. What is that?

Oh. How awkward.

It's you.

Welcome to your very first hangover,

Sincerely,

The Morning After Club (in no way or form associated with: The Morning After Pill, The Morning Glory Adventure Club, the Deborah Cox album, the 1986 film staring Jane Fonda and Jeff Bridges, or The Breakfast Club)

Rogue! Look at this note! Attached to this Large Bottle of Water!

STEP ONE: Drink the water

STEP TWO: Swallow the pills next to it (just Tylenol, I swear)

Think you can handle that?

-J-Dawg

P.S. What the eff happened to you?

LETTER #2/2

Dear Keltie,

You may recall from the previous letter my inability to start with one of two potential phrases?

That has changed. Because:

I've made a huge mistake.

You would not be proud of me.

You're probably not that surprised, given the way the last letter ended. I don't know why I'm surprised either. I guess I just thought what with the whole "dying" thing, the world might think I'd had enough and given me a break. Might have just let me get rid of my virginity in an uncomplicated, consequence-free way.

Not that that's what I was trying to do, necessarily. Get rid of my virginity, I mean (you can rest assured that it is still very much in my possession). I just wanted to...I don't even know, exactly. Maybe just make myself feel a little better about Logan's rejection.

I should have learned from all those after school specials that alcohol doesn't solve anything. There's also probably a lesson somewhere about how your virginity is sacred and pure, but as I can't even see straight, finding the moral of the story is not my top priority.

I'm so humiliated right now that it actually painful to write out what happened, but I'm going to, if only so that the next time I consider putting bourbon (or vodka, or rum) to my lips, you can shake this in front of my face and remind me that bourbon (or vodka, or rum) is the DEVIL'S BEVERAGE.

Just like I said I was going to, I walked right over to those boys and introduced myself (Well, I introduced 'Olivia'). They looked pleased as punch that I'd come over and wasted no time making sure I had a fresh drink.

"Would you believe," I said, smiling in what I hoped could be described as an 'alluring' manner. "That I've never played pool before?"

"Really,' Blonde guy said, winking at his friends. 'Well, we can certainty teach you."

"Really, sugar?" I said. I was trying to emulate my cousin Rhonda, who was an expert at picking up men. "That would be just swell!"

(I may have been overdoing it just a tad)

(Not that they seemed to mind)

"What are you trying to pull, kid?" Logan's voice sounded it my ear. I gasped, and whirled around to give him a piece of my mind.

There was no one there. I searched the bar, but it was just me and these guys. I shook my head and smiled at Blonde guy again, when I felt an odd sensation on my waist. I put my hand in my pocket and pulled out the Blackberry, which I didn't even realize I had brought with me.

"One second," I held up a finger to the boys. They looked at me strangely, exchanging a glance.

"Hello?" I answered.

"Rogue?" a voice said. "Is that you?"

"Why yes it is," I answered, twirling a piece of hair around my finger.

"Rogue? Are you with Rogue? I need to speak to her."

"Yes, it's me," I said impatiently. "Who is this?"

"This isn't funny," the voice said. "What is that, Japanese? I need to speak to Rogue. Please give this phone to her."

I narrowed my eyes. "Who is this?"

They hung up. Confused, I put the Blackberry back in my pocket. And then I had to grab the pool table, because I felt like I'd been hit by a truck. I only realized I was nearly to the ground when two of the boys pulled me back up.

"Woah," one of them said. "Your hands are like ice cubes."

"How much have you had to drink?" asked the other.

"What?" I said. The room was spinning, and I gripped his shirt to keep from falling back down. "Only two. Or ten."

"I don't understand," the guy said. He turned to his friends. "What language is she speaking?"

"It's Japanese," said a voice from behind him, and this time it really was Logan.

"Uh-oh." I said. He just gave me a look like: You think?

He walked up to the guy I was holding onto. I stepped back, trying to find the wall, a chair, something else to hold on to, but the floor suddenly shifted up behind me. Logan grabbed me around the waist and practically picked me up, guiding me away.

"Dude-" Blonde guy protested. "Who are you?"

He growled. Blonde Guy backed off.

"Is that all you got?" I looked back at Blond Guy. "Come on!" I shouted. "I want to see a fight!" I jabbed my fists out, hitting Logan in the jaw and nearly falling over again. He sighed and picked me up so that my hands were pinned by my side. "Hey!" I said.

"Everything okay here?" The bartender, deciding now to be responsible. Logan swiveled to look at him. The room spun the opposite way and I was about to be sick.

"You've been serving her?" Logan snarled. The bartender took a look at me and I could see his career flash before his eyes.

"Look, guy-" he said. Logan narrowed his eyes. The bartender straightened up. "She's clearly had too much," he admitted. "But you can't just pick her up and take her away. For all I know you could be a-criminal, or something." His eyes flicked nervously to Logan's arms. "I'll call the cops."

"That so?" Logan said. He put me down and took my purse. I tried to protest, but the act of standing straight took too much concentration. Logan pulled out my wallet and handed the bartender my license without looking at it.

"Her name is Marie D'Ancanto, she lives in Westchester, New York. She's 5'6 and 130 pounds. And if you look right down at the bottom there, bub, I think you'll see that she's underage. Still want to call the cops?"

The bartender handed the license back without a word. "Good luck," he said to Logan, glancing at me.

"Not in Quebec!" I protested.

Logan nodded at him and grabbed my arm roughly, dragging me out of the bar. I preferred it when he was carrying me. Walking was so much more...complicated.

As soon as we got outside, I broke out of Logan's grasp. Running down the nearest alley, I leaned my forehead against the wall, taking deep breaths and trying to straighten out my head. I saw Logan come up behind me out of the corner of my eye. He stayed in a doorway across from where I was bent over. I couldn't read his expression. I waited for him to say something, ask me what the hell I'd been thinking. But nothing came, and with the way he was looking at me, it was almost worse.

"I see why you do it now," I said finally, poking my finger into a crevice in the brick. He said nothing, so I continued. "Drinking, I mean. It's like, for just a little while, you forget who you are. It's a relief." I looked over at him.

His jaw tightened, and he was still looking at me with that inscrutable expression. Finally he sat down in the doorway and patted the step next to him. I straightened and made my way over, dropping beside him.

"It doesn't affect me the same way," he said finally. He sounded like he was going to say more, but changed his mind. I closed my eyes and rested my head against his arm, inhaling his comfortable scent. He was still tense, but I could tell he was softening.

"I just wanted to see," I yawned. "what it was like." I opened my eyes and glanced up at him, wondering if he knew I wasn't talking about drinking.

He didn't look at me, but he reached his arm around and started stroking my hair. This had the effect of making me very sleepy. We sat in silence for a moment. "Iceboy didn't?" He said gruffly, finally. "I find that very hard to believe."

"We broke up," He shifted slightly, but said nothing. "Ages ago, now. And I think he knows about me kissing John." Even though I didn't know that at all, I wanted to see his reaction. His hand stopped, but he still said nothing. "I didn't want too," I said, blabbering. "But I kind of did. But I didn't start it. And I didn't start it with Bobby either. And I just don't want my whole life to go by only being kissed by boys who are bored or boys who are lonely, or boys that only kiss you to mess with your head. I want to kiss boys that I like and I want to decide who that is. And for the first time, I can." I looked up at him and he looked down at me.

I wish I could remember what his face looked like, what his eyes were telling me, but I don't. They must have told me something, though, because that's when I kissed him.

It was awful, Keltie. I now understand how awful it must have been for you to kiss Ben. Because by awful I mean completely wonderful-until he pushed me away. I looked down at the ground, too completely humiliated to look him in the eyes. My own eyes were filling with tears and I didn't want him to see.

"Kid..." He said, and my heart seized up and I felt like I couldn't breathe. If he'd called me Rogue, or Marie or even 'bub' -anything but "kid"-I wouldn't have felt the complete and utter devastation as I did in that moment. I continued to stare at the ground, trying to come up with some way to make this better, to make it so it never happened.

"I'm drunk," I announced, matter-of-factly, before he could say anything else. I wasn't really, not anymore, but he didn't know that. I started giggling hysterically, and stood up, swaying precariously. Logan reached out an arm to steady me, but I was laughing to hard, and I fell against the wall. "Logan!" I said, as though I'd only just noticed he was there. "I'm drunk!" I said again, still giggling.

"Yes, you are." He said, and I think I saw relief spread across his face. "Come on," he said. "Let's take you home."

"I don't know where home is," I giggled. Then I leaned over and was sick behind a dumpster. When I'd finished I pulled a tissue out of my bag and wiped my mouth, still crouching on the ground. When I held out my hand, Logan hauled me up and passed me a stick of gum.

"Better?" He asked. I nodded. He took my arm, literally touching as little of me as possible, and lead me out onto the street. He hailed us a taxi and I got in, leaning my head against the window. I pretended to fall asleep.

John was up when Logan walked me through the hospital door. He was sitting in the only armchair, reading one of my library books. He took one look at me and shook his head.

"Scott called." He told Logan, who was helping me into bed. "Wants to know why his Blackberry is being answered by a Japanese woman."

"I'll call him back. If you leave this bed," he turned to me. "You'll spend the rest of your days just wishing a hangover was the worst of your problems." He walked out after that, and I put a pillow over my head.

Keltie, this is the worse I've ever felt in my life. I know it sounds dramatic, but at least when I put David into a coma and Magneto kidnapped me, I could tell myself it wasn't my fault. This is 100% completely my fault, and I've never felt so stupid. I just want to go back to a couple of days ago. The worst part is that Logan's been the most understanding of my situation up until now. He was always finding excuses to touch me, to hold my hand or brush my arm or something, without having to say anything about it. Of anyone, I think he understands the frustration of my mutation the most, and I completely misread it.

Well, that's not exactly true. I knew he didn't have those kinds of feelings for me. Which is part of the reason why our friendship is so wonderful. But now I've just gone and ruined it.

And I also know something else. The reason that I'm suddenly speaking Japanese, and why the alcohol wasn't affecting me, until it suddenly was.

It's because my powers are starting go out of control. Which means death probably isn't that far behind.

It's a sign of how mortified I feel right now that that thought brings me more comfort than fear.

Don't write back to me, okay? I couldn't stand your kindness, especially because I know that at this very moment you're questioning why you are friends with me in the first place. Just burn these letters and go on with your life.

Really, it's okay. I'll understand.

Rogue

Rogue,

We don't really know how to address this. Maybe you misread our earlier instructions?

You've gone and kissed three different boys in a matter of days. We told you to be a little more romantic, Rogue, not turn into a huge hussy.

This kind of behavior reflects badly on all our members. If it continues, we may have to ask you to leave.

Kindly,

The Young Romance Association

How are you feeling?

Like a Sentinel went to town on my head. Are you mad?

Mad you didn't take me with you.

I didn't really plan it.

It was pretty damn stupid.

Did he tell you?

Who, Logan? Yeah. He said he found you getting boozy in some dive bar a few blocks from here.

Is that all?

He didn't say it but I gathered that more happened. Really bad move, Ro.D. You don't have your mutation to protect you anymore,. You can't just go hit on random guys.

Who says I need protection?

If you can't lie down without holding on to the ground, you probably can't defend yourself against drunk frat boys. Just imagine what could have happened if you ran into a gang of dancing, finger-snapping street toughs!

Remember, part of defending yourself is not getting into a situation where you have to.

You sound like the Professor.

Thanks, I think.

I'm really embarrassed.

I can't do much about that. Did you at least get lucky?

I don't want to talk about it. Was Scott really mad?

I don't think Logan told him.

HE DIDN'T?

Keep it down. If Logan wakes up, he'll kill us both. I really don't want to be on the business end of those claws.

John? Can I ask you a question?

No, I did not have sexual relations with that woman.

What was it like? When you were gone.

I really don't want to talk about it.

Please? I need to understand.

John? I don't know what this is between us, this weird friendship-y thing that's happening. Trust me, if you told me three weeks ago that I'd be talking to you more than Bobby OR Logan I'd have laughed in your face. But there you have it. Bobby hates me and now Logan does too, and you're the only person I can talk to. I need to know. For my sanity.

Why would Logan hate you?

I don't want to talk about it.

Fine.

Fine.

Please tell me.

He talked about you sometimes.

Who?

Magneto? Why?

He said that if he hadn't had to kidnap you and turn you against the Brotherhood, you would have made a good addition to the team.

WHAT? No way.

Yeah. He's right.

No. No he's not. What the hell, John?

You've got the anger. You've got a powerful mutation, and it's the kind that people hate the most. The kind who look completely normal but have a deadly power. Humans react worst to you because you can kill without meaning to. Mutants hate you because you can take away the thing that makes them powerful, that separates them from humans. You can use their power against them. You're a threat to both sides, see?

Great. Good to know I'm so universally beloved.

The thing is...You've got the power, but you've actually mastered restraint. You don't like to use it. That's rare.

I don't have much of a choice.

But you do. And that's why he liked you.

Forgive me if that's not a comfort.

It was boring.

What?

Being there. Being an "evil minion". I thought I'd have more power, responsibilities. I wanted to really show off. But he just wanted foot-soldiers, people who wouldn't ask questions. In some ways, he was just like Xavier, with the restraint business. It was boring.

Why is it so important to you? Showing off?

I don't know. I wanted to be a big hero, go down in history as someone who changed things for mutants. I didn't see that happening with Xavier, and I thought it was his kindness that was the problem. And now I'm dying of this stupid mutant virus and I've lost my best friends and the only people in the world who care about me, and suddenly that kindness is the only thing keeping me alive. Clearly my plan has worked out really well.

Do you know how you got it? The virus?

No. But I know it wasn't an accident.

What do you mean?

Open your eyes, Rogue. It's not natural. Someone's created it to destroy mutants. Someone knew I'd join up with the Brotherhood eventually, and they knew I couldn't resist showing off my powers. Not like you. No, it stops with you because you don't use your powers on anyone.

Oh.

You know how you got it, right?

Yeah. I figured it out.

I'm sorry. I knew something was wrong but I didn't know how bad it was. I never would have thrown those fireballs if I'd known what would happen.

Yeah, you would have.

Well, I never imagined you'd have the guts to stop me. No offense.

It's okay. I'm a wimp. And when I'm not, it gets me into trouble.

What are you talking about?

Nothing. Did Logan just move?

I don't know.

Why is he even sleeping here?

You can't be trusted.

You have no idea.

Rogue,

Maybe don't look Logan in the eyes for the next few years? Follow his example?

Helpful suggestions at your service, Ltd.

Rogue,

You may have wondered why it's taken us so long to contact you, considering recent events.

We were too busy laughing. Never have we had such an amusing client! And despite your consistent displays of thick-headedness, you must know yourself how truly disastrous you have made this situation.

We couldn't be yours more gleefully,

THE COLD HARD TRUTH ASSOCIATION

Rogue,

Is it safe to say that we are rather impressed? Underage drinking, reckless risk-taking-it's what being a teenager is all about! While your wanton behaviour leaves something to be desired, we really like the path that your recent actions have forged.

But don't become complacent now, Rogue! You are so close! We see you moping in your bed, reading your books, and we have to admit…it's quite hard to take you seriously when you've been wearing those track pants for three days straight now. It's getting a bit embarrassing for us.

Don't get cocky, Rogue. You still have a long way to go. But at this moment we are very pleased with your progress.

The Association of Teenagers