I still remember that day like it was yesterday.

The day I saw Jean pressed up against the kitchen counter, with Logan between her legs.

He nuzzled her neck, she tugged on his hair, and they were completely lost in their own world. Devouring each other, exploring each other with their hands, and doing things that screamed indecency.

It was late, around two in the morning. I jerked awake, and I couldn't fall back asleep, I thought a drink would help me. I woke up and got out of bed, but something nagged me to stay. I ignored the urge, and went downstairs anyways. Maybe it was a sign that I wouldn't appreciate what was going on in the kitchen.

I went down the stairs and I met my inevitable end.

A flurry of emotions rushed in the back of my head. Anger, jealousy, and plain sadness were amongst them.

But the cocky and arrogant Erik in my head told me that Logan meant nothing to me, that I was superior, that I could kill him with just one touch.

"All you need is a touch, and he's dead."

So I walked in, headed for the liquor stash next to the fridge, behind the canned goods, and grabbed a bottle of God-knows-what. Any type of alcohol would do the trick just about now.

They looked up and I could feel them staring right at me.

"You could kill him, you silly girl," Erik echoed.

I didn't dare look back. I held my head high, clutched my bottle, and left.

As expected, they continued what they were doing as soon as I left the room.

I didn't mean anything to either of them. Specifically Logan. And you know what? He didn't mean anything to me, either.

I knew that was a lie.

"Don't be weak!" Eric chastised.

He doesn't mean anything to me. He doesn't mean anything to me.

That was my new holy mantra.

Not knowing where to go or what to do, I went outside to the gardens to clear my head.

Scott was sitting on the cobblestone steps, pensive, thinking about all that occurred.

I didn't say a word; I sat down next to him and pushed the bottle I pick up towards him. It was Bourbon.

He graciously accepted it and took a swig, and then he passed it back to me.

I put a friendly arm around his shoulder and he leaned in careful to avoid my skin, and began to cry; something he'd never let anyone see. He must've been real upset, because he had that "Fearless Leader" persona to live up to.

I comforted him by patting his back. "Let it all out," I whispered.

Tears threatened to escape, every time I pictured the two on that damned counter, I nearly broke down. But I couldn't. I couldn't let Scott down. I had to be the strong one; I had to be there for him.

I thought about everything Logan and I had gone through.

He saved my life twice, he said he came home for me, he said he was my protector. He said that no matter what I did, I could always feel safe with him. I looked up to him; he was probably one of the very few people I could rely on, unconditionally.

He even said he loved me.

I knew it wasn't true. At most, I knew he meant it platonically.

I sighed. I knew he couldn't love me.

He deserved a woman, not a girl with an outstanding crush on him.

I thought about what Jubilee and Kitty had been telling me.

"Chica, you're twenty two, and you've gone past that awkward teenager stage! You're beautiful, and you've made a life for yourself! If Logan doesn't see that, then who cares?"

Maybe she was right all this time.

Maybe it was time to get over Logan, make a life for myself, and find someone who would care about me.

But Logan was the only person that wasn't afraid of my skin.

Everyone flinched when they got too close, or they'd keep a distance of three feet away from me. But Logan reached in for a hug without hesitation, and he brushed my hair back without jerking away.

It was either Logan, or loneliness.

I guess I was meant to be alone.

Besides, after killing a few people with my skin, and putting a dozen more in comatose, I was just getting what I deserved.

I finally spoke up, "Scott, are you okay?"

"She…she cheated on me," he mumbled.

"I know sweetie, I'm…"

"Please don't say you're sorry."

I nodded.

"I just don't know why…I thought she…I loved her," Scott choked.

It was hard not to cry. I held back tears and continued to nod.

"The sad part is…I still do," he said, and looked up at me, "why do I still love her?"

"Because life ain't fair, Scott," I replied.

There was a comfortable silence between us, as we stared ahead.

"I'm sorry about Logan," he finally said.

"Yeah, me too," I replied.

"He doesn't deserve you," he said, "you're too good to him."

"Thanks, Scott."

We sat in silence, passed around the bottle of Bourbon, and enjoyed each other's presence.

I nearly made it without crying, I swear I did, but then Scott said something that broke my stiff demeanor.

"You and I…we deserve to be happy, right?"