Notes During History

Rogue? Was that Logan we saw in the hallway?

Yep.

Did you talk to him?

Yep.

Uh, details?

Well, actually, class was about to start so I couldn't say much before I had to go get my books.

Oh. Are you disappointed?

About what?

Well...

Well, what?

Never mind...You told Jubilee that we're not skipping this afternoon, right?

Yep.

Are you okay? What's with the one syllable answers?

Kitty, I'm fine! Just leave me alone!

Rogue,

Remember when you first came to school and no one would talk to you? Remember how Kitty sat with you? Remember how she asked you questions about where you came from? And remember after the incident with Logan how everyone was terrified of you? Remember how Kitty told everyone to stop being judgmental losers? Remember how she offered you some gum?

What did you just do Rogue? You completed your physics homework before the class was done. Looks like life has really improved now that your best friend isn't talking to you.

The Best Friends Club

Hey kid,

Sorry I didn't get a chance to talk to you before your class started. Meet me in the kitchen at 8? I have something to show you.

-Logan

Rogue,

Logan has something to show you? What could it be? Perhaps he'll profess his undying love?

We wait with throbbing anticipation.

The Young Romance Society

Rogue,

The fact that you're considering, even for the tiniest millisecond, that Logan will profess his undying love for you just shows how completely pathetic you are. Logan sees you as an annoying little kid, and nothing more. He will never see you as anything else.

You disgust us,

The COLD HARD TRUTH ASSOCIATION

Rogue,

You don't want Logan to profess his undying love for you anyway...or do you? You love Bobby, in all his Iceman-y hotness...don't you? Besides, even if Logan did profess his undying love for you, what would you do? You can't touch him anyway...or can you overcome that?

Sincerely (we think),

The Association of the Indecisive

Rogue,

Okay, why, why, WHY would you want Logan to profess his undying love anyways? That is just gross. What is the matter with you? He's so...old. It's SO creepy that those thoughts would even cross your mind. What would everyone think, if he did profess his undying love? Can you say "statutory"?

Gross-ed Out-edly,
Senior and Co-Presidents of the
Secret Society of the Eww

Rogue,

We understand you have received letters from the COLD HARD TRUTH ASSOCIATION and the Secret Society of the Eww. We want to make it clear that we are in no way associated with these fear-mongering organizations.

Remember Rogue, that you're eighteen now. You may still be in high school, but you are perfectly within your rights to engage in a romantic relationship with whomever you like (provided, of course, that that person is also of consenting age). Not only that, but may we remind you that you have the personalities and thoughts of at least two centuries-old men, not to mention more than one teenage boy, all wrapped up in that adorable striped head of yours. There's probably not a whole lot that's going to shock you. If anyone can handle a relationship with an older man, our bets on you, kid.

Shippers for Sanity, Inc

Bobby,

Look, I'm really sorry, but I can't meet you tonight. Logan wants me to meet him later, and I don't know how long it's going to be before he leaves again and I can see you anytime, so can we maybe get together tomorrow night? If I don't get too much homework?

Thanks!

Rogue

FOR ROGUE! WHEN SHE GETS BACK FROM MEETING WITH SWORN PROTECTOR!

This has something to do with Logan doesn't it? Bobby told me he was back...Jeez Rogue, what did you say to they guy? He looked like he'd been slapped in the face (many pimp jokes come to mind, but I'll keep them to myself) What happened in history? Kitty won't tell me, but I don't think she's ready to forgive you anytime soon. You better tell me, or else I'll have to go all Danger Room on you. And you know I can do it. I'm not a quitter, like some people I know.

Jubilee

To: Rogue@XaviersSchool.edu.org
From: Keltie_Matthews@freemail.com
Subject: You'd better

tell me first, before I tell you anything. Seriously, I feel so selfish just talking about my boy problems, with all the stuff you've been going through.

Tell me or I wont tell you.

Keltie

To:Keltie_Matthews@freemail.com
From: Rogue@XaviersSchool.edu.org
Subject: You're going to

laugh. Because I've got boy problems too. Don't ever think that your problems are insignificant, because they're not. Especially to me, okay? And I'm only telling you first because I REALLY want to hear what happened to you. And I hope you're okay.

When I wrote you before, I was just going to tell you that Logan was back at the school. If you read the letter I sent (which you obviously did) than you know that he's been gone for a while and I've missed him a lot.

All of a sudden today, I walked into the hallway, and there he was, looking the same as ever in his beat-up leather jacket. I didn't have much time to talk (I had a class to get to), which was good because just seeing him made me feel all...I don't know. I had trouble getting words out and stuff, which was so embarrassing. I was pretty sure he was going to think...

Well, I don't know what he thought. But I didn't expect to see him right away. I thought he'd have a debrief with the Professor, or that he'd be tired, or want to talk to Scott or something. But then I found a note in my room asking me to meet him after dinner, and even though I got a ton of grief from Jubilee because I was ditching both her and Bobby, I went anyway because he said he had something to show me.

So I went down to the kitchen, and the first thing he said to me was "Hey kid." He had a cigar in his mouth and a beer in his hand. I pulled out some bread sticks ( I practically lived on those things after the first time he left) and a diet Coke from the cabinet, and took a seat across from him at the island

"Hey, Logan." I said. Then I did something that could have potentially landed me in the medical center: I reached over, plucked his cigar out of him mouth, and handed him a bread stick. "How're you doing?"

He grunted. "Smart-ass." But he bit off a piece of the bread stick nonetheless.

I shrugged. "Just another of the lucky traits you passed on to me."

He studied me for a minute. "What else did you get?"

I was a bit surprised. We normally don't talk about things like my mutation, or the fact that he's bouncing around in my head. Then again, our relationship has never exactly existed by normal rules of interaction, so I rolled with it.

"Uh..." I stalled for a minute. He kept on staring. "Well, for one, your cigar addiction..." I looked up at him.

"Sorry." He said, kind of low.

"It's okay," I said, " It's starting to wear off."

He looked at the bread sticks, and I was surprised to see guilt on his face. "I'll cut down."

I couldn't believe it.

"I don't think it would make a difference, unless..." I trailed off, and I think I even started to blush, because we both knew how that sentence would have ended.

Unless he touched me again.

Lucky for me, it was getting darker in the kitchen, and I don't think he noticed my embarrassment.

I took a sip of my diet Coke, as he took another sip of his beer. "What else?"

"Well..." I pretended to think for awhile, using the time to find the right words. "Sometimes, I can feel what your feeling...at least I think so. They might just be echoes of the past," (Right, now that I'm writing that down it sounds so cheesy...why did I say that?) "I'm not sure. But if you feel really vulnerable, or scared, or..." I looked up, to see him grimacing. "Or violent...sometimes I think that something awful must be happening to you."

I didn't mention that the only time I felt like that was when he was gone, or how much it scared me. I could tell that he was feeling guilty, so I told him about some of the good things.

"I still have some of your healing, though," I told him. He raised an eyebrow in interest.

"Yeah. I, uh...well, this is going to sound really stupid, but I got a paper cut in English, and Kitty noticed that it healed up almost right away."

He laughed, and I grinned, pleased to cheer him up.

We started talking, like we used to before he started leaving on all those Secret Missions. He asked me about school and Christmas and Bobby. I gave him an editted version-I didn't know how much time I'd have before he left again and I wanted to hear about him, not tell him that I was having trouble handling some stupid assignment and a cold.

He finally got around to why he'd asked me to meet him that night. It turns out that he'd been through Mississippi in the last month.

My eyes widened at this part. Had he heard something about my parents. Were they alright? I wanted to ask but I kept my mouth shut.

It turned out to be nothing like that. He reached into his bag. "I made a bit of a detour through Meridian, and I got you this." He dropped something heavy in front of me. An atlas.

He'd taken a detour to my house to get my atlas.

I know. My house

I Know. An Atlas

I KNOW: LOGAN.

It was something I'd mentioned to him so long ago, I can't believe he even remembered. But apparently he did, because it's sitting right beside me on the bed as I write this.

I need to explain about this atlas. Before I came to the school, I wanted to travel so badly. I mean, I wanted to go everywhere. My room was covered in pictures and maps, and I had plans to leave on the first of many trips right after graduation. At the time, the most important thing in the world to me was my atlas. I had marked every single place I wanted to go, and I'd taped pictures in the inside flaps, and on certain pages I'd attached lists of hotels and hostels I could stay at, and there were notes from my friends about each of the places I wanted to go. When I ran away, it was the hardest possession for me to leave behind.

And Logan, he just..got it for me. He didn't tell me how, and I didn't ask. I just sat there, staring at it for the longest time, and he sat there with me, and I couldn't look at him because my eyes were so full of tears. Finally, I threw my arms around him and said thank you about a billion times. I know for sure that he was uncomfortable, but I didn't care. After that, he said he had to go talk to the Professor, and left. I just sat in the kitchen for a while and held my book. I didn't open it; I've looked at those pages so often I know them off by heart, even now.

Eventually, Kitty came to find me, and she took one look at the book, and gave me this little smile. I must have told her about the book oh, about a million times, and she recognized it in a second. I smiled back at her and she sat down and we talked a bit, and it took me a couple of minutes before I remembered that we weren't speaking to each other. When I realized this, I stopped, looked at her, and started laughing because it was all so stupid.

And even though we both know that it wasn't really the book I was happy about, she didn't mention it. And neither did Jubilee when she came upstairs later. She just threw a pillow at us when she realized we were talking again. This is why I have the best friends ever.

Keltie, I'm so happy right now. Really, nothing can bring me down. Not Jubilee's stereo playing some annoying stuff incredibly loudly, even though it's almost 11:00, not my runny nose, not my physics homework, nothing. I can't stop smiling.

E-mail me back as soon as you get this, please!

Happily,

Rogue

You really think that this means anything? You think this feeling of contentment is going to last for long?

It wont. Logan will leave, and you'll fail your exams, and you'll probably die of some really common disease, because you're not even important enough to die of something interesting and rare.

Please reconsider this newfound happiness. It will only make it more painful (though amusing!) when everything comes crashing down around you.

THE COLD HARD TRUTH ASSOCIATION

Rogue,

I'm writing this to you the old fashioned way, because it's a Monday and I can write it during class.

I'm going to tell you what happened over holidays, but it's really very stupid and I'm embarrassed to even tell you.

Okay, well, remember how I wasn't very thrilled to be going away for Christmas? Well, it's because I hate my family. Well, okay, hated them. Okay, really, they're not so bad now, because I've learned to deal with them. And it's sooo emo to say I hate my family. But they do drive me crazy.

See, after my mom left, my dad relied a lot on her sisters (my aunts) for help. And, well, they never really let him forget it. Or me. They're always really critical of me, telling me how to dress and how to act and saying that I don't help my dad out enough. It's really annoying, especially when I feel like I help my Dad out quite a lot. It upsets me how stressed out he gets, and I try to make things easier on him, but you know, I DO have my own life.

This time though, I've learned that they best way to get along with them is to just conform. I know, my family. I know, conform. I know, ME.

I just smiled at everyone, and I wore something appropriate, and I didn't attempt to snatch the Smirnoff like some of my cousins, and it worked. I ended up having an okay time, and by the time we were supposed to go home, on the 30th, I didn't want to leave (this may have had something to do with the amazing presents my Grandmother kept "forgetting" to give me). But my dad had to get back to work, and I had a party to go to with Leah and Ben, so we had to.

Now I really wish I had never left.

Alright, so New Years Eve. Leah and I are putting on our make-up for the party upstairs, Emma is sitting on my bed reading InStyle, and asking us questions about make-up and boys and the like, and we're giggling because we found out about this stuff from Leah's older sister, and Ben is downstairs watching Lethal Weapon with my dad, yelling once in a while about how slow we are.

And just like you said you felt when you got your book back, I had this huge feeling of contentment. I wasn't worrying about school or my dad looking more and more stressed out all the time, or whether or not I should tell Ben I like him. It was just so peaceful and perfect and nice. I felt like for once I had everything figured out.

Then we get to the party. It's been a tradition of ours since we were about 13 that at midnight on New Years, when all the other couples are making out, that we stand together and yell really loudly how everyone should get a room, and make rude jokes and stuff, until people start throwing things at us. But this year...Well, here is the exact time-line of everything that happened, from five seconds to midnight:

11:59:55: Ben yells something over the countdown that I can't hear properly

11:59:56: I try really hard to decipher what he just said

11:59:57: I do

11:59:58: The world stops

11:59:59: It's because he said "Sorry Keltie, I'm going to have to break our tradition this year."

12:00:00: Ben leans over, a small smile on his face, and kisses Leah.

12:00:01: -

12:00:02: -

12:00:03: -

12:00:04: People start to look over, because there is a curious lack of yelling from our corner of the room. This is what they see: Ben with his arms wrapped around Leah, Leah, finally getting over the shock wrapping her arms around him too, and me, standing in shock with this goofy smile on my face.

12:00:05: Jack, one of my buddies from the auditorium (he's the assistant producer, meaning he sits with me during rehearsal and we play tic-tac-toe, come up with dirty lyrics to the tune of the songs in the play, and throw stuff at the teachers in charge) calls my name, but it's too late, because I'm out the door, tripping over my too-high heels.

12: 34:47: I walk in the door, go upstairs as quietly as possible, head into my bathroom, turn on the shower, and cry my eyes out.

So that's what happened. Basically. I'm actually too tired to write any more, such as those interesting moments between the time I stumbled my way out the door and the time I stumbled my way up my steps, so I hope you don't mind if I don't.

I'd also really like to comment on your last letter too, I really would, but I can't. I just don't have the energy right now. I hope you understand, and I hope you feel better, and the bell just rang, so I guess I'll hear from you later.

Keltie