Categories > Cartoons > X-Men: Evolution > That Stupid School Project
“Ok, then,” John got up, “We are agreed. Jean shall have telekinesis and minor telepathy. Creed will only be in the first chapter for a total of one paragraph. Ms. Monroe will control ‘mother mature’, as you put it,” he made quoties with his fingers, “and Mrs. Darkholme will be a shape shifter,” I would give anything to know where you came up with that idea, he mused privately.
“When Ah said Mother Nature, Ah meant weather,” Rogue also got up, brushing the grass from her black mini skirt.
“Yeah, whatever,” John sounded bored.
Rogue rolled her eyes and picked up her backpack. John followed suit.
As he reached down his t-shirt sleeve slid up to reveal more of that angry purple bruise. Marie saw it and sucked in her breath angrily.
“Where did yah get that? Don’t yah dare tell me that yah locker did this,” she pointed at the bruise that John was hastily trying to cover with his t-shirt sleeve.
“It’s not as bad as it looks,” he mumbled defensively.
“Not as bad! The bruise is still red!”
“So, it’s not like it means anything,” John crossed his arms, wincing as this action stretched the bruise even further.
“How did you get it?” Marie wasn’t going to give an inch, she knew that the bruise was fresh.
John looked at the ground, debating with himself. He knew that he should probably tell Rogue, but he didn’t want her to think of him as a wuss. Also, he liked Lance and didn’t want to drive an even bigger wedge between Rogue and Lance.
“I got shoved into a locker today,” he opted for partial truth.
“Who shoved you?” Marie was shorter than John by several inches, but she seemed to tower over him right now.
“I don’t know,” John hoped that the exasperation in his voice would convince Marie, “When you are being shoved into a locker what you are watching out for is your books and things, not who did the shoving.”
“You are trying to find out who did the shoving so that you can at least stay out of their way,” Rogue countered hotly.
“Well, I didn’t. Even if I had, what on Earth makes you think that I would tell you who they were?” John shut his mouth with a snap.
“What was that, again?” the sweetness in Marie’s voice was thick as honey.
“Er, well, yeah. Gotta go,” John waved and practically ran off.
“Yah don’t get away that easy,” Rogue yelled after him.
She hoisted her back pack to a better position and then took off after him. John wasn’t a very good runner. For one thing he seemed to have this knack for finding every possible surface to trip over. Marie, on the other hand, was an expert at running, and she had a mean tackle.
They fell together in the grass about five yards away from the elm-maple.
“Why don’t you want me to know who shoved you?” Marie gasped, John had kicked her by accident in the stomach when her tackle had sent them flying.
“I want to take care of this myself,” John was gasping too, and wondering where Rogue had learned moves like that.
Marie started laughing, “That was all? You just led me on that great song and dance ‘cause yah thought I would take away yah right for revenge? Yah and Pietro,” she began laughing again.
John laughed too. They sat on the grass laughing for a while, as the afternoon sun sank below the horizon. John was really laughing, but Marie was just putting on a show for his benefit.
You’re protecting someone Johnny boy, she thought. I don’t know whom, but when I find out they will wish that they hadn’t messed with you. It never occurred to her that it might have been Lance out for revenge, or that her attempts to make things right would be just as nosey as Lance’s prying.
“When Ah said Mother Nature, Ah meant weather,” Rogue also got up, brushing the grass from her black mini skirt.
“Yeah, whatever,” John sounded bored.
Rogue rolled her eyes and picked up her backpack. John followed suit.
As he reached down his t-shirt sleeve slid up to reveal more of that angry purple bruise. Marie saw it and sucked in her breath angrily.
“Where did yah get that? Don’t yah dare tell me that yah locker did this,” she pointed at the bruise that John was hastily trying to cover with his t-shirt sleeve.
“It’s not as bad as it looks,” he mumbled defensively.
“Not as bad! The bruise is still red!”
“So, it’s not like it means anything,” John crossed his arms, wincing as this action stretched the bruise even further.
“How did you get it?” Marie wasn’t going to give an inch, she knew that the bruise was fresh.
John looked at the ground, debating with himself. He knew that he should probably tell Rogue, but he didn’t want her to think of him as a wuss. Also, he liked Lance and didn’t want to drive an even bigger wedge between Rogue and Lance.
“I got shoved into a locker today,” he opted for partial truth.
“Who shoved you?” Marie was shorter than John by several inches, but she seemed to tower over him right now.
“I don’t know,” John hoped that the exasperation in his voice would convince Marie, “When you are being shoved into a locker what you are watching out for is your books and things, not who did the shoving.”
“You are trying to find out who did the shoving so that you can at least stay out of their way,” Rogue countered hotly.
“Well, I didn’t. Even if I had, what on Earth makes you think that I would tell you who they were?” John shut his mouth with a snap.
“What was that, again?” the sweetness in Marie’s voice was thick as honey.
“Er, well, yeah. Gotta go,” John waved and practically ran off.
“Yah don’t get away that easy,” Rogue yelled after him.
She hoisted her back pack to a better position and then took off after him. John wasn’t a very good runner. For one thing he seemed to have this knack for finding every possible surface to trip over. Marie, on the other hand, was an expert at running, and she had a mean tackle.
They fell together in the grass about five yards away from the elm-maple.
“Why don’t you want me to know who shoved you?” Marie gasped, John had kicked her by accident in the stomach when her tackle had sent them flying.
“I want to take care of this myself,” John was gasping too, and wondering where Rogue had learned moves like that.
Marie started laughing, “That was all? You just led me on that great song and dance ‘cause yah thought I would take away yah right for revenge? Yah and Pietro,” she began laughing again.
John laughed too. They sat on the grass laughing for a while, as the afternoon sun sank below the horizon. John was really laughing, but Marie was just putting on a show for his benefit.
You’re protecting someone Johnny boy, she thought. I don’t know whom, but when I find out they will wish that they hadn’t messed with you. It never occurred to her that it might have been Lance out for revenge, or that her attempts to make things right would be just as nosey as Lance’s prying.
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