Ororo and Jean’s peels of laughter halted, interrupted by a sharp rap on the bedroom door. Ororo lifted her eyes warily to Jean, “Who is it?” she called.

“Logan.”

Jean’s eyes glittered a silent “I told you so.”

Ororo dropped her cotton weapon, smoothing her hair reflexively. She looked at Jean again ((What should I do?))

((You may want to open the door.))

((Shit.)) Ororo couldn’t prevent her hand from shaking slightly as she reached for the brass handle. With a deep, steadying breath Ororo jerked open the door, once more face to face with the ruggedly handsome Logan Howlett.

“What?” She said, wincing internally at her harsh tone. She heard Jean’s disgruntled sigh behind her but she waved her hand behind her back in a shoo/silence motion.

“Hey.” Logan said, his lip quirking a bit. “Just came to check up on ya.” Surprising her, his hand lifted, and he traced her swollen lip with his thumb. “Looks like it hurts.”

Ororo blinked dazedly. “Yes, that seems to be the running theory.”

“Hnh.” His hand dropped. “You wanna go for a walk?” He asked unexpectedly.

“No.”

“She’d love to.”

Ororo glared at Jean over her shoulder. Turning back to Logan she replied, “Don’t you have practice or something?”

He shrugged. “Not for another hour. So how ‘bout it?”

Thinking of the shit she’d get being seen with him from the other followers she shook her head. “No. Thanks.” She started to close the door but a strong hand wrapped around the frame, stopping her.

“Why not?” His dark eyes were curiously intense.

“I-I have school work to do.” She stammered.

“You’re a genius. No worries there. What’s the next excuse.” He wasn’t buying it.

Ororo ran her hand through her hair. “I just don’t want to, okay?”

He let go of the door and stepped back, holding up his hands dismissively. “That’s all ya had to say.”

Why did he sound hurt? Ororo wasn’t given much time to ponder that as a shout echoed down the corridor.

“Yo! Logan!” Bobby drake was jogging towards them. Medium height and average build, blessed with good looks and a flamboyant sense of humor Bobby was the youngest player on their football team. His gaze flicked questioningly between Ororo and Logan.

When Bobby never elaborated as to what he wanted Logan growled, “What, Drake?”

“Oh, oh yeah. Bishop and Alex are springing for pizza down at Tony’s. Let’s go.”

Tony’s was a popular hang out for the players and the groupies of the players.

“Naw, I’m cool.”

Bobby’s eyebrows jacked. Logan was the biggest eater on the team, gifted with a healing factor and killer metabolism, the man could down two large pies and a 2-liter of cola without a grumble. “You sure?” He hesitated.

“Yeah.”

Bobby’s eyes once more traveled to Ororo. “Getting some help on your homework?” he asked.

As if that would be the only reason a boy would talk to her, Ororo silently fumed. Hearing more than enough she said icily, “No. He’s not.” And slammed the door.

“Dammit.” Logan shot Bobby a hard glare.

“What?” Bobby seemed completely befuddled. Logan’s lip curled and he stalked past the fellow player and down the hall. “What?” Bobby called after him. “Come on man, whaaaat?”

Inside her room, Ororo let her head drop forward so that it rested against cool wood.

“You really like him.” Jean murmured, softly, slightly surprised.

“No,” Ororo denied weakly.

“Yes. You do.” ((Don’t lie to a telepath, Ororo. It’s no use.))

“It doesn’t matter.” She straightened.

“Why not?”

With a resigned sigh, Ororo said, “I’m not like you Jean. I’m not funny, or pretty, or from th right family.”

Jean frowned. “So, you’re going to make it about that, are you?”

“Look, Jean--”

“No, you look.” She reached for Ororo’s hands. “You’re smarter than that. You know there is more to people than their social background. Give him a chance. He could surprise you.” She kissed Ororo’s cheek. “Think about it.”

Alone in her room once more, Ororo sat heavily on her bed, hugging her Hello Kitty pillow tight against her stomach. She bit her lip, cringing at the sting of pain. Maybe she should give him a chance. After all what was the worst that could happen?





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