I lay there on my bed for some time, mulling over the same thoughts in slightly different orders. I found that I didn’t like a lot of the motives behind what I did and who I was. There was an overwhelming need in me to figure myself out, starting with who I wanted to be. I asked myself that question, and an image of an unfazeable vixen with a smart-ass retort for everything came to mind. I pushed the image aside as too shallow and entirely too much like Mystique for comfort. I needed something deeper. Modesty and an unwillingness to look kept me from turning inward to find out if I already had things inside me that I liked. Instead, I looked to the people I admired to come up with traits I thought I was lacking.
I’d already been thinking about Bobby, so I started with him. His loyalty suggested itself instantly, loyalty both to me and his family. Twice a month he wrote them unreturned letters of forgiveness spoken through recounts of how much he was learning at the school and his continuing hope for a more peaceable reunion in the future. I’d yet to contact my own parents, or even to consider forgiving them. It wasn’t because I hated them as much as it was because I didn’t think of them. A clean wound heals quickest and hurts shortest and all that. What else in Bobby did I like? He was compassionate, Iceman nothing. Mostly I found that I was drawn to his balance. I felt sure that he’d never even partially consider considering suicide, no matter what happened. He knew who he was, what he stood for, and left the rest to sort out itself. I decided I loved him then, and realized at the same moment that I was going to have to breakup with him.
So, I had loyalty, compassion, and balance thus far. I remembered Dr. Grey and added selflessness and bravery. The other X-Men came to mind. Cyclops, I acknowledged, was just like Bobby only more so. I supposed I should tack responsible on both of them. Storm had grace and eloquence and, for someone who was practically a goddess, she was incredibly humble. Self-assured without being cocky.
Cocky naturally brought me to Logan. That arrogance, his tendency to waver, his cynicism, his slightly twisted sense of honor, his gruffness, his emotional deficiency – I didn’t aspire to any of it, yet I loved it all because I was in love with him. My love didn’t generate from idolization, nor did I love him just because he was the most dead-sexy man who ever walked the earth, counting young Paul Newman. It was because of the way I felt around him. There was an easy companionship between us, an understanding that came from being two imperfect people dropped into a world full of perfect heroes. I loved Logan the most of anybody I knew, unquestionably. It wasn’t just as friends either, though I’d tried to make it so for Bobby’s sake.
Not that I was breaking up with Bobby because I thought I could be with Logan. Far from it, actually. Even if I were a normal girl, I still wouldn’t have harbored any anticipation of romance between us. But that particular reality didn’t make a difference since fantasy was the only thing I could ever expect of anyone. In that regard, I’d always been cheating on Bobby. I’d enjoyed kissing him and making him want me – he was very cute guy, after all – but I’d have left him for Logan in a heartbeat if the unlikely opportunity had ever presented itself. Bobby deserved far better than me, that was for sure.
Idly, I tried to run my fingers through my hair but the tangles prevented it. I flipped the ends up to my nose and smelt chlorine. Making a face, I hauled myself out of bed and into the attached bathroom. My own bathroom. Ah, the luxuries I had taken for granted in my youth. Not all of Xavier’s college-age students got their own bedrooms and baths, just Bobby and me. Yet another perk of being X-Men.
Flicking on the light switch, I stepped up to the sink and stared at myself wide-eyed in the mirror. Good God, I’d walked around the school looking like this? My hair was practically in dreadlocks and I looked even paler than I did before I’d attempted to lay out yesterday. Cruel, cruel irony.
My energy was revitalized after I brushed my teeth thoroughly and took a long, hot shower. Now that I was clean, I felt much better prepared to face my judgmental classmates at breakfast. I was determined not to look the part of would-be psycho murderess. I dried my hair and decided to curl it instead of straightening it. I figured loose Shirley Temple ringlets were about as threatening as a blind puppy.
Out of habit, I took my daily pill. It was redundant for me to be on birth control, admittedly, but most of the girls at the school were on it regardless of sexual activity. Because there was no way to know how each mutant would react to any given drug, the school regulated all the medication we took, from insulin for diabetics to the occasional aspirin. Birth control was offered on a wide basis to avoid complications and embarrassment. The drawback, of course, was that we had to listen to umpteen speeches on STDs and teen pregnancy. The extra drawback for me were the snickers I’d gotten from the other girls the first time the idea was introduced. Rogue needing birth control? Whatever for?
In response to that, Jubilee had elbowed me in the ribs jovially, saying, “It’s in case of immaculate conception, right Rogue?”
“Actually,” Kitty had broken in, “The idea of immaculate conception has nothing to do with the virgin birth. It’s an entirely different doctrine based on the idea that Mary herself was born exempt from original sin.” Kitty had smiled at our surprised looks. “You can be Jewish and still attend a Catholic grade school,” she’d explained simply.
It was a damned good thing that not very many people knew my real name or I probably would’ve spent the rest of my high school experience being called the Virgin Marie. That was one thing to be thankful for.
I applied just a little bit of makeup and then went to my closet to find an outfit that was just as muted. This turned out to be a much more difficult task than I had anticipated. I had an abundance of cute clothes and the winter-fall stuff wasn’t too bad, but my summer wardrobe was scarily devoid of class. That fact was not totally my fault as my last few shopping excursions had been under the influence of Jubilee and Kitty. With their help, my predominantly black wardrobe had been supplemented with pastels and lots and lots of yellow. Bright yellow. How had I allowed this to happen?
It was clear that I needed a new look. I had outgrown my quasi-Goth, quasi-hooker stage, I couldn’t pull off preppy with my unusual hair color, and there was only so much yellow one school could take. A trip to the mall was the only reasonable course of action for me, even though I’d already spent my generous monthly allowance. Where Professor Xavier got all his money, I could only guess. Perhaps his extra-secret power was the ability to turn blades of grass into one hundred dollar bills.
Thankfully, I found that a lot of my new clothes still had their tags on them because I hadn’t been daring enough to take my look to that new level of skimpy while school had actually been in session. Resolving to return them, I separated the tagged items out and tossed them on my bed. Still not satisfied, I added some more stuff that I thought I could sell at one of those second-hand boutiques. Remorselessly, I tossed my former favorite shirt – a long sleeved, gauzy number that left nothing to the imagination – on the top of the pile, and surveyed it with satisfaction. As soon as I made some stops, I would have enough money for my purposes and more.
I took off my robe and got dressed in a comfortable pair of jeans and a red Clash t-shirt that had a normal neckline and showed only a little bit of skin between the sleeves and the top of my gloves, which I exchanged for white ones to match the lettering. Simple, neat, and safe without turning me into a formless old biddy. Perfect. I pulled out a pair of tennis shoes and was tying them when I heard a knock on my door. I knew it was Bobby the way I would have known if it had been Logan, or David or Magneto for that matter. I just did.
“Come in,” I called, trying not to sound nervous and failing.
The door opened and Bobby came in with a forced cheerful smile on his face. The smile disappeared when he registered the clothes on my bed. “You’re not leaving,” he stated, his voice angry and surprised.
I shook my head in agreement. “I’m just doing some prioritizing.”
Jamming his hands into the deep pockets of his jeans, he replied, “Good.”
There was an awkward silence between us. I knew why I was anxious, his reasons weren’t so obvious.
“So, I was headed down to the med lab to see you, but I ran into the Professor at the elevator and told me you were here.”
“Yeah, I woke up a few hours ago.” It was now after eight-thirty.
“How’re you feeling?”
“Fine,” I said quickly. “I’m fine. How’re you? Did I…Are you okay?”
“Yeah. A little bit of a headache – not even a headache. Just a little, uh, pressure. You know.”
“Did you talk to Rett? Is he okay?”
“He wasn’t out for very long, maybe fifteen minutes”
“No unwelcome side-effects or anything?”
Bobby shrugged. “He was playing basketball after dinner last night, so I’d say he was just fine.”
The formality wearing me out, I collapsed on the edge of the bed. “Bobby, I’m sorry.”
“Hey, no,” he said, quickly coming to sit next to me. “I’m not mad at you. The Professor told me you’d want your space, is all. It’s okay.”
I leaned on his shoulder and let him stroke my hair, needing to be comforted. I wanted to tell him that I loved him, but I was too afraid he’d say he loved me back. Breaking up with him was already going to be hard enough without having to convince him that he didn’t really love me like that.
The selfish part of me wanted to forget my resolution and let him keep being my boyfriend. By playing the “poor Rogue” card, I could’ve easily bound him to me permanently. Had I wrenched out a few tears and told him that I loved him, that would’ve been it. Bobby and Rogue forever.
“Let’s get some breakfast before the cafeteria closes,” I suggested, standing.
“All right,” he agreed, and took my gloved hand in his.
“You’re too good for me, Bobby.”
He winked and kissed the satin over my knuckles. “Nah. I’m perfect for you.”
I almost protested, but we were already out into the hallway and I wasn’t about to break up with him in public. It was going to be bad enough for his reputation anyway.
I knew reputations and superficial preoccupations like that shouldn’t matter, but I was still concerned. Maybe I’d tell everyone he broke up with me. No, I couldn’t do that because then all the girls would think he was a jerk and wouldn’t go out with him. And, since drama was the preference, no one was going to believe it was mutual. This was already complicated and I hadn’t even done it yet.
The cafeteria was really a huge dining room set up with five long, elegant tables. It was never a problem that there were more students than chairs because everyone ate whenever they pleased during the designated time periods. Bobby and I went down at the last-minute breakfast rush, the most crowded time of day, even with over a third of the student body home for break. That proportion was much less than it would’ve been at a normal prep school since a lot of our kids were orphans, runaways, or family outcasts.
Coming from backgrounds such as those, it would’ve made sense for them to be a little more understanding. Unfortunately, junior high-aged kids made up the highest percentile of the student body. They found my existence intriguing in that two-headed-fetus-in-a-jar kind of way and never lost an opportunity to talk about me in undertones, whether the subject be speculation over my mutation or the Statue of Liberty incident, which had become the stuff of legend. According to Jones, every now and again when the rumor mill was churning too slowly someone would bring up the night Logan had accidentally stabbed me and I’d revealed my mutation to my peers for the first time. That part was considered only mildly interesting compared to the biggest mystery of them all – why I’d been alone with Logan in his room that late at night in the first place. Ooh, scandal.
Junior high kids. God forgive me for having ever been one of them.
“You wanna grab something and take it outside? It looks pretty nice out,” Bobby proposed as we got into line. The three girls in front of us were giving each other significant looks and listening in to our conversation without discretion. Bobby was as aware of that fact as I was.
“Sure,” I responded, selecting an apple and then a bagel, adding to it a generous dollop of cream cheese.
It was rather disconcerting to be stared at by so many people, whether blatantly or not, so Bobby and I made it through the line as quickly and as nonchalantly possible and took our trays outside to what was really the garden, but we called it the park because it was so massive. We managed to snag the picnic table under the big tree, where we could have relative privacy. At Charles Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters, privacy in personal matters was always relative.
Bobby peeled the plastic lid off of his cereal and ate it dry, with a spoon. That never ceased to amaze me. “Jubes and Kitty wanted me to say hi to for them,” he told me, scooping up another spoonful of Cheerios. They weren’t even Apple Cinnamon or Honey Nut, they were just the plain ones. What was the point?
“I thought they weren’t coming back until tomorrow.”
“They called me this morning. Freaking six o’clock in the morning to tell me that they were up and about ready to go shopping with Kitty’s mom. Am I a woman? Honestly. Why would they think I cared? They should’ve called you.”
“I wasn’t stupid enough to give them my extension number.”
“Smart girl.”
“Very true. What’d they say?”
Bobby shrugged. “Chicago is great, they’re having a great time, the usual stuff. I guess they saw somebody or other famous.”
“In Chicago? I had no idea famous people hung out in Chicago. Who was it?”
“Baseball player for the Cubs, I think. I didn’t catch the name. In case you forgot, it was six a.m. Six a.m. Oh, and then, after Kitty repeated everything Jubilee told her to tell me, Jubes would not let her hang up, even thought she didn’t have anything else to say. So it was just dead silence until Jubilee finally grabbed the phone from her and told me to go back to sleep. Girls are strange. Excluding you.”
I feigned bafflement, but in reality I knew exactly what had occurred. It had been obvious to me from day one that Kitty had had a crush on Bobby for the longest time but hadn’t done anything about it, despite Jubilee’s insistent prodding. When Bobby and I’d started dating, Kitty backed off, probably more relieved that anything else because Jubilee stopped nagging, for a while at least.
Jubilee, though always friendly toward me, still designated Bobby as Kitty’s. She thought that Kitty should have him even if it meant getting him to cheat on me. And if that hurt me, well, that was an unfortunate side effect, and one I deserved for stepping in on Jubilation Lee’s best friend’s territory. When I’d first figured that out, I’d been mistrustful of Jubilee, but then I’d realized that she was probably one of the most honest people I’d ever met. She was even more honest than Bobby, because she was as true to her weaknesses as she was to her strengths.
Before, I’d considered the Kitty situation a little trying, though I’d felt sorry for her. Now that I was breaking up with Bobby, I decided that she was perfect for him because they were really in love with each other and I was the only thing holding them back. Now, did I really and truly believe that? Maybe.
“Do you like Kitty?” I asked, twirling the stem of my apple.
“What do you mean?”
I shrugged. “I don’t really know her all that well and you sounded kind of annoyed that she didn’t have anything to say to for herself.”
“Well, that’s not her fault. Jubes was putting her on the spot. When Kitty wants to talk she has a lot to say, and usually she’s funny. Not uproariously funny or anything. It’s kind of subtle. It’s nice.”
I smiled to myself as I cut the apple with my plastic butter knife. “I never thought she was all that shy. She talked to me the first class we had together. She asked me to sit with her and Jubes and everything.”
“That’s Kitty for you. She’d rather be uncomfortable herself than let someone else be uncomfortable.”
“Sounds like you two know each other really well,” I grinned, thinking that this was going to be easier than I had thought. There weren’t going to be any hard feelings after this breakup.
“Oh, yeah. We came to the school at the same time. She’s kind of like my sister.”
Damn.
“But – but don’t you think she’s pretty?”
“I guess so,” he replied, confused.
“What is this obsession with putting sibling labels on friends of the opposite sex? It just makes everything more difficult. You are not Kitty’s brother, not even by a chromosome. And, mentally speaking, I’m one hundred percent positive that she does not think of you like a brother. Nor should you think of her like a sister. She’s not.”
Bobby stabbed at his cereal with his spoon. “Like Logan’s not your big brother or uncle or whatever.”
I almost said, “Exactly,” but I caught myself. “We’re not talking about Logan.”
“But it’s true. You don’t think of him like that.”
“Bobby,” I said softly, “This is about you and me. This has nothing to do with him.”
“Everything you do has something to do with him.”
“Not this.”
“Oh, no. This is about you trying to pawn me off on Kitty. I like Kitty, Rogue, I do. But I’m with you and you’re not going to scare me away. We’ve been through too much together.”
“I don’t want to scare you away. I don’t want you to go anywhere. Stay right here. Just…take away the label. I can’t be anyone’s girlfriend, Bobby. The only difference between girlfriend and friend is physical, and I can’t give that to you. Not now, not ever.”
“You’re giving up? You can’t give up. Yesterday was a fluke. It got out of hand. It won’t happen again.”
“I gave up a long time ago. And yesterday wasn’t a fluke. It was my fault. I’m not normal.”
“Who’s normal? This is Mutant High. We’re all not normal. It wasn’t your fault. It was my fault. It was those stupid kids’s faults.”
“No. It’s my mutation and my responsibility. You can’t be my boyfriend anymore. I love you and you’re one of the only friends I have, so I don’t want to loose you. All that’ll be different is that you can’t kiss me anymore. I’m sure you won’t miss the migraines.”
“They’re not that bad,” he said forlornly. Then, “You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” I forced a small smile. “But if my condition changes, you’ll be the first to know, okay?”
He smiled a little too. “No I won’t. Logan will be first.”
“Why would you say that?”
“Come on, Rogue. You slept with the man’s dog tags around your wrist every night for a month.”
I looked at him incredulously, wondering how he’d come by that information. I’d hid them carefully from my roommates. I was sure that if they’d found out they would’ve said something.
“You gave them back to him with me in the car, remember? It wasn’t too hard to figure out why you happened to have them on you in the middle of the night.”
My shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why you put up with me. You are too good for me. I was serious about that. You deserve better.”
“Apparently, I deserve a lot worse if you won’t have me.”
When reason doesn’t work, go for anger. I shoved myself out from the picnic table. “Shut up. Just because I’m too stupid to fall in love with you doesn’t mean you’re not worthy of me or whatever else you think. I’m a mess. You have no idea what it’s like inside my head. So why don’t you just start thinking of me as your sister and give poor Kitty a break. You’d both be a lot happier. You don’t need me, Bobby. I need you. Why can’t you understand that?” I shook my head. “You know what? Whatever. I’ll talk to you later.” With that, I stomped off, enjoying my righteous indignation. It was warm.