X-Man
by Babs Yerunkle
From the "X-Men Evolution" universe, beginning
after the end of the first season.
Chapter 6: Now THAT'S an education
"Rogues! Wake up!"
I sat up, looking at Kitty, then in the mirror. Except that
the mirror kept showing Rogue's face, even as I felt my body shifting. I
realized that I was looking at Jackie, and she was looking at her hands and
arms, examining her body.
"Ah do good work, don't Ah?"
There was something intensely disturbing about looking at
this woman who *wasn't* Rogue. "Amazing. You look just like her. You
sound just like her."
"Half of that is getting the larynx and throat right,
and half is accent and speech patterns. You're going to have to learn those
speech patterns too, 'Jerry'. And while Ah appreciate the compliment, someday
soon you'll be able to do far more impressive changes, in the span of seconds."
I nodded absently. "Uh huh. Sure."
Jackie dug through drawers that weren't hers, pulling out
clothes that weren't hers, and complaining about the selection. She finally
settled on green-black tights, a black leather miniskirt, a black leather
halter with a green gauzy see-through overshirt, and black leather gloves.
Army boots and a dog collar completed the look.
"Doesn't it bother you," I asked, "wearing
clothes that don't belong to you?"
"Hey," she said, in Rogue's voice, "when YOU
fit the part Ah'll be glad to give them back."
"Will you two give it a rest. And what is *with* you,
Rogue?"
We both looked at her, unsure who she was talking to. From
her look she was staring at the other. The woman I would have to think of as 'Rogue',
even if I knew she was just a fake.
"I mean, like, you must wear that same outfit three
times a *week*! Don't you have *any* other clothes?"
I looked over 'Rogue'. That outfit was pretty nice. Good
enough to wear three times a week. It let her strut her stuff, kept her
covered, showed off skin without actually exposing it, and came with a strong 'don't
touch' message. All she really needed was maybe a bomber jacket and it would
be perfect. I opened my mouth to say so, but 'Rogue' beat me to it.
"I agree completely. But I'm not here to be me, I'm
here to fill in for someone else while she takes an extended vacation. Until
she decides to show up, I have to use a wardrobe supplied by sex-starved
morticians.
"That's hardly fair!"
She looked at me. "What's the matter? I didn't strike
a nerve, did I 'Jerry'?"
I just scowled back in reply. "If you're so smart,
what are guys my age wearing these days?"
"Well, you'll have to lose the nightshirt. Orange and
green really isn't your color." Under her breath, she added, "It isn't
*anyone's color." Then she continued at a normal volume with, "Let's
see…we'll start with slightly oversized slacks."
I melted the nightshirt into slacks. I was starting to get
good at this.
"No, more of a normal fit, just a touch on the baggy
side. Yeah, but sharper creases. Narrow leather belt. Lighter brown. Okay,
white cotton shirt, let's add a cravat. A red vest over everything, yeah, that's
good. Finally, a nice trench coat – maybe grey or light brown, maybe suede, no
go for shiny. There, perfect!"
I moved over to the full length mirror.
"I look like an idiot!"
"No, that's *way* stylish. Now *that's* a sharp
dressed man. You know, I am SO jealous of those clothing talents. Tomorrow I'm
going to let you deck me out."
Kitty was about to get dressed, when she saw me. "Could
you, like, turn the other way? I know you're not *really* a guy or anything,
but this is still kind of getting to me, you know?"
When she was done, she posed for us. I tried to understand
what had happened to clothing styles in the last five decades. First of all,
Kitty wore pants, not even a hint of a dress. Her pants didn't go all the way
down, they stopped in mid calf. That was okay, because her simple cotton shirt
didn't go all the way down, either. It left just that belly-button zone
uncovered, along with exposing her shoulders. But that was okay too, since she
wore a long-sleeved lavender sweater over the top of it. A locket on a chain
finished it off.
As we walked out the door, I felt shiftings under my
clothes. Yep. Underwear change. I used my powers to peek at it. It was an
exact match for the lacy items that 'Rogue' was wearing. And despite how I
hated for Charles to be right about anything, I did feel better for some
reason, knowing that I was in proper underclothes. What I meant by 'proper' in
this circumstance, I had no idea.
I was too tense over the coming day to really pay much attention
to breakfast or the drive to school. Charles gave us useful last-minute
advice, which I didn't really hear. 'Rogue' and Kurt promised to help show me
the ropes, since I'd been out of practice for so many decades.
And then…there we were, walking in though the entry gate of
Bayville High.
Within seconds, we were having our first confrontation.
Scott was stopped by Lance Alvers, otherwise known as "Avalanche."
"Might as well give in now, and avoid any future
trouble, loser-clops."
A fairly repulsive young man ambled in my direction. "Hey,
looks like they've got a new recruit. You staying at the mansion, bud?"
I nodded.
The kid, I recognized him now as "Toad", looked
around to make sure there was no one in earshot. "You got any
special…skills? You know?"
I nodded again. "A skill that's useless in combat or
in any sort of real confrontation, but devastating at a public place like
school. I can cause pants to drop."
He took a step back. "YO! And people say *I* got the
bottom of the barrel! You serious?"
"Want a demonstration?"
He shook his head, unafraid. "No thanks. I'm already
starting to pick up a rep for being strange. And holding my pants up with my
tongue – well, people would stare."
I looked at him for a moment and started to smile. "Hey,
you're okay. I hope I see you around."
Kitty gave me an "are you serious?" stare. Todd
just gave a too-wide grin.
"You know," he said, "you *could* demonstrate
on one of our leader-guys. Either one. Maybe both."
"No," I said, dropping my voice so that only the
local group could hear, "I think I'll restrain my awesome abilities until
they are truly needed."
Todd gave a cocky salute and headed for class. Kitty said
she had to do something with computers, and Kurt dragged 'Rogue' and me toward
our first class.
"Here," he said, opening his locker, "you can
share vith me until you get your own. You probably ought to share vith Rogue,
but then people vould think you were going out."
"With *her*?" I hissed.
"What's wrong vith Rogue?" he sounded defensive.
"Nothing! But that…that…*imposter* is another thing
entirely!"
He gave a goofy shrug. "Well, you know, this whole
disguise thing takes some getting used to."
"Oh, sure it does," I lowered my voice to a
whisper, "Mr. hologram-field."
"Hey, cheap shot! Regular people aren't ready for the
magnificence of the blue dude."
He pretended to swat at me and I dodged, laughing. Surely
school had not been so carefree back in the thirties.
Kurt, 'Rogue', and I settled in to the back of the room for
our first class: speech and public speaking. Surely school had not been so
dull, back in the thirties. It was going to be a long day.
The teacher droned on and on. How could a teacher of speech
and public speaking be such a poor speaker? With nothing else to occupy my
mind, I gradually focused on the binding feeling of my underclothes. My
undershorts formed a distinctive "V" shape up my front and back. I
squirmed a little in my seat. Of course, they weren't really undershorts, they
were extremely lacy French-cut panties, never intended for the male physique,
which explained the binding feeling. Still…they were so pretty, and feminine,
and wearing them made me feel a little warmer, a little better somehow.
Despite the binding feeling, they felt *right*. They satisfied something
inside me. A part of me that I still wanted to deny reveled in these small
concessions to her femininity. If pressed, I would deny it, loudly. But
inside, part of me was so very happy to feel like a girl. Even a little bit.
That reminded me of another thing that was bothering me. My
mind normally veered away from this, but under the trance-inducing droning of
the teacher, I felt compelled to consider it. My sexual response. I had seen
the jiggle Queen naked. Both as 'Rogue' and in her over-endowed normal shape.
Neither one had done much for me. I suspected that Jackie's normal shape would
have most men drooling. And then there was the aspect of how some other people
affected me. I could barely stand to even touch the concept in my mind, but
the fact was that certain non-female people seemed to be having an unusual
effect on me. I had felt very unusual feelings around Scott last night. And
Kurt? I didn't want to even think about it, but there was a need inside me to
be near him, to be around him, to have him approve of me. He gave me the most
disturbing feeling – a sort of empty pit inside me, just below the stomach, and
a squeezing feeling in the whole chest region. It wasn't sexual, it was
something else. Well, okay, sometimes my nipples got hard, which I
*definitely* didn't want to think about. That had never happened when I was a
man.
That was at least one good reason to be wearing a bra – it
helped conceal any inappropriate reactions like that. Under my bra, shirt,
vest, and coat, no one was going to be able to spot two tiny bumps. It was
hard to admit, but I *really* liked wearing a bra. The constriction around my
chest did wonderful things to my confidence level, and I had no idea why. It just
helped me feel protected and secure, and…feminine.
I knew from my discussions with Rogue, back before the
incident, that she'd felt extremely self-conscious about her breasts. That
issue hadn't been as important as her hair and she'd never spoken about it
directly, but I was certain that she thought she was "too small."
That was one possible benefit of this memory change. Although it was an absurd
thought, if I ever did become Rogue, I would have grown up with eighty years of
a flat male chest. Even triple-A breasts would seem huge to me. Rogue's own
B-cup breasts (yes, I'd peaked at one of her bra labels) would seem titanic if
they were on *me*. I guess that helps explain why the bra was so comforting.
But the oddest emotion filtering up was pride. Feeling the constricting,
supporting comfort of the bra made me proud for some reason. I have no idea
why.
"Maybe our new transfer student can explain why this is
important."
"Uh, because if you don't pay attention, you miss the
important points?"
"Wonderful. Simply spectacular, Mr…." he
consulted his chart "Tratwick. No, the question was: why should a speaker
be aware of whether the audience is paying attention? And the answer is that
this is an effective way to gauge the style of presentation and whether or not
you're reaching your audience…"
I went back to daydreaming.
European history was an unpleasant shock. Since they were
just beginning World War II, I assumed the class would be safe to ignore.
Unfortunately, between the lecture and reading ahead in my history book, I
learned that most of the history I had experienced would be useless to me.
They didn't mention Cap at all, there wasn't a single reference to Easy
Company, the Blackhawks, or even such high-profile heroes as the Human Torch or
the Submariner. The "history" was primarily dates and battles with
no unifying vision of how, why, or what sort of position the enemy would be in
after maneuvers. There was a brief mention of the Enigma Project, but not the
secret behind it that had dominated our every move.
It would take a lot of study to learn the pabulum and keep
my first-hand knowledge from intruding.
And then there was gym, a most disturbing class. I
discovered that I had been issued "gym clothes" and was expected to
change and shower with the rest of the male population. Don't get me wrong, I
had little sense of bodily modesty. Living in a foxhole for a few weeks fairly
well eliminates any sense of privacy or shame. After a while, all you dream
about is women. A while after that, all you dream about is a clean shower and
a soft bed. And eventually, you dream about a place – any place – that isn't
constantly exposed to bombs and gunfire.
None of that explained my apprehension about disrobing in
front of these boys. It wasn't the feminine underwear I had on. I remembered
that, and realized that I could "vanish" it just before I took my
clothes off. Perhaps it was that these people weren't my squad mates – they
hadn't earned the casual trust. Relatively satisfied with that explanation, I
selected the most out-of-the-way corner to change in. Right next to Kurt.
"What are you doing over here?" I whispered to
him.
"Changing, just like you. Vhat else?"
He looked pretty nervous, though. I made sure to keep my
eyes averted as I continued our whispered conversation.
"What are you so nervous about?"
"I don't vant to say it too loud, but," his voice
dropped much lower, "the image inverter, what if it vent wrong while I was
changing to my gym clothes?"
"You don't think our blue friend would be well
received, and you want some tiny chance of vanishing away?"
"Not all people are as accepting as you, my friend."
"Don't worry, I'll do my best to screen you."
As I carefully undressed, Scott and Evan arrived and joined
us in the corner, silently taking position to screen Kurt. I noticed that they
were looking at me rather oddly.
"What?"
"Uh, well," Scott couldn't seem to say anything.
"It's kind of about Rogue," Evan finally put in.
"What about her?" By this point, I was using
sheer willpower to make myself to disrobe and suit up in athletic clothes. My
reluctance had become a near-physical force.
"Well," Scott said, "how can we put it
politely? You wouldn't want her watching *you* undress, would you?"
"What an absurd question! Of course not! I –" I
finally realized what they were getting at. "Wait, you don't think *I*
--?"
Evan shrugged. "Well, that's the thing, isn't it? We
*know* you are. But you aren't too, right? So until we can all figure this
thing out, it might be better if you just made sure not to peak, okay?"
I rolled my eyes at him. "You may rest assured, that
is the *farthest* thing from my mind."
I finished suiting up in a blaze of anger. Damn him! The
worst part was that once he had punctured my carefully held indifference, I
realized that I was in a room full of naked men. It wasn't exciting, it wasn't
titillating, it wasn't boring. More than anything else, it was terrifying. I
felt that at any moment, I would become their target. Finishing as fast as
possible, I hurried into the gym.
I was approached almost immediately by a jerk and his three
flunkies.
"Did I hear you talking about my girl Rogue?"
"You tell him, Tony!"
I looked at him in surprise. "I beg your pardon?"
"He's telling you to keep your hands off his girl!"
"*Your* girl?" This was a considerable surprise,
to say the least.
"Yeah, she just don't know it yet," the central
idiot answered.
"And what makes you think she'd be interested in you?
For that matter, why are *you* so interested in *her*?"
"Oh come on, you got eyes, man!"
Crude as their affections were, it was nice to hear Rogue's
schoolmates complimenting her, even in this backhanded and unwanted fashion.
"Yeah, she's a bad girl. And everyone knows that bad girls
put out!"
"And how! One look at her and you know she's hurting
for the thing that only a real man can give her."
"Nine inches of satisfaction."
"One royal screwin'."
"She wants you to *nail* her tight pussy!"
"She can ride *my* joystick!"
"Of course," Tony continued in his suave fashion, "she
may be a little on the skanky side right now, but I figure she'll ripen up real
sweet with a couple years of the proper handling. Everyone knows it only takes
some attention to get them girl's hormones a-flowing. Some regular tugging on
those hard little titties'll help her grow a proper set of hooters in no time!"
His crew howled at that. I was seeing red.
"I'm going to deck you one," I warned him, "if
you don't turn off that foul mouth of yours!"
"Oh come on, man, you *know* she wants it!"
"Yeah, all those chicks living up in that mansion are
hot for it."
"Except for maybe the freshman geek."
"I can swear to you that the cheerleader chick is one
major fuck toy. Duncan, you know? He's my main man, and he's told me,
confidential, that he's done *all* the cheerleaders. He told me that little
Jeanie practically begged him to stuff her."
The absurdity and incongruity of the statement left me so
stunned that I couldn't react.
"And if *she's* putting out, you know that a bad girl
like Rogue is waxing *someone's* pole."
"What do you think? Is she a moaner or a screamer?"
"I think she leaves the skirt on when she goes down on
a guy. That's why it's so fucking tiny."
"Frank said that her cunt's so tight she can open a
beer bottle with it."
"I heard that she'll fuck any guy in a trench coat."
"Yeah," the lead imbecile said, "like I said,
easy. I'll be poking into her sweet little honey pot within the week. Then I
figure, once she's boffing a real man like me, she'll dump the other guys she's
doing."
"Yeah, man, but what if she's only into *chicks*? Look
at how she dresses, man. She could be a lezzie, you know."
The jerk's eyes tipped back in their sockets as if he'd just
been rewarded with a glimpse of paradise. "My bad Rogue, a virgin? Too
sweet! In that case, I'll just have to take that over-ripe cherry of hers.
And we all know that once a woman gets that first feel of cock, she can't help
herself. She's got to have more."
"Addicted to cock." The gang nodded, solemnly.
"And then, boys, maybe you could share her lezzie
friends. Then you wouldn't have to settle for sloppy seconds."
My rage and fear had been battling for dominance in a way
that left me momentarily locked in place. This last comment finally pushed me
over the edge.
"Bet they all share a room together. They're probably
going down on each other all the time, girl on girl."
Before they could utter another vulgarity, I was right in
front of the lead jerk's face, my hand clutching the front of his shirt. My
mind snapped back to the kind of talk I'd heard in the foxholes back in Europe.
"Listen up, you little piece of snot! You lay one
finger on that girl, on any of those girls, and I swear to you that I'll cut
your balls off with a rusty knife and shove them down your throat until you
choke to death on your own blood, understand me?"
"Shit! Back off, man!"
While I had him in close range, I concentrated and made the
tiniest adjustment in the waistband of his gym trunks, making them considerably
looser.
"Understand me?"
He pushed away from me fearfully.
"We was just talking, man. Like anyone would want to
fuck that scarecrow anyway! Fuck you, man!"
He scurried off, leaving me in awe of his considerable
verbal prowess. Parsing the contradictions of his final curse and the
preceding sentence left me realizing that he'd contradicted himself.
To top it off he had me shaking in fear like I'd just faced
down a pack of rabid dogs.
Evan, Scott, and Kurt filed into the gym behind me. Evan
came up and put his hand on my shoulder.
"You okay, man – I mean, gi – uh, whatever?"
"Those…those…foul-mouthed cretins were talking
about…Rogue…and what they'd like to do to her! I…I want to…I feel like beating
the hell out of them!"
Scott put a hand on my other shoulder. "You'll have to
stand in line. They're the biggest jerks in the school next to Duncan Mathews."
Duncan? My eyes took on a vicious gleam. But not, I
thought, nearly as vicious as the good Mr. Summers. I turned to him with a
nasty smile.
"Oh, Scott," I asked, too casually, "I hope
you don't mind me calling you by your given name?"
"No…" he shook his head in puzzlement.
"Did I mention that they also bad-mouthed your friend
Jean? Apparently this 'Duncan' fellow has been spreading rumors about her…"
I explained all.
A few seconds later: "Mathews!"
Scott's cry turned the head of everyone in the gym. Duncan
Mathews didn't seem to be present, because Scott immediately turned toward
another target. "You! Amoretti! I hope you can run, asshole, cause that's
the only thing that's going to save you!"
Unfortunately, just as Tony Amoretti turned to flee, his gym
trunks fell down around his ankles. Right in front of the entire class. Did I
mention that our gym classes are co-educational, with women present, too? Poor
Tony. His reputation may never recover.
*****
"I hear you had some excitement in gym class,"
Moira said.
She now had me scheduled for a "session" with her
every evening after dinner. The initial explanation had been as physical and
emotional therapy to help me "adjust" to my new "situation."
I knew what she was up to, and didn't like it one bit. But I had given my
word.
"Don't worry," she said. "I'm giving you a
Doctor's note that will let you out of gym class for the next few weeks. Now
that you've been seen, we've established your credentials. Anything more might
be dangerous, if people noticed the changes."
"Changes?" I said apprehensively.
She fixed me with a stern gaze. "I made it quite clear
to you that it's medically vital to transition you back to Rogue's normal
physiognomy."
My mouth was dry. "You're going to change me into a
girl?"
She rolled her eyes heavenward. "Please, do we have to
go over this again? You *are* a girl, no matter what you remember. This,"
she waved at my body, "outward form you have chosen exists only to satisfy
a set of foreign memories. *You* and your body are both female, and I'll be
working to return you to that state as quickly as I can. And I can't have the
rest of your gym class noticing, now, can I?"
I looked around in a panic, searching for an escape route.
"Look, Jerry. I know that isn't your name, but right
now it's as good as any other name you might choose to use. So, calm down. I'm
not going to do anything too extreme to you. Each step *has* to be something
that you can psychologically accept. This won't work unless you can accept
each change. These are small, tiny steps."
Her calming voice was starting to help. My heart no longer
felt like it was in danger of exploding.
"Take today's change, for example – getting rid of
excess bodily hair. That's a convenience. It doesn't make you any less
masculine, does it? Weightlifters and bodybuilders often shave. So do Olympic
swimmers. Many men have little or no arm and leg hair. And you yourself told
me that you hadn't shaved since the change. Hasn't that been a blessing?"
I nodded, weakly.
"So there shouldn't be anything bad about getting rid
of a lot of ugly body hair."
"I…suppose not."
"Excellent. Remember, each change will be tiny. A
little thing here are there. Something that you're ready to accept, like this
one. So," she spoke the post-hypnotic command trigger that Charles had
implanted. I was incapable of remembering the word, "Body hair: just like
Rogue. Just like normal. One step closer to home, girl."
I felt the change sweep over me. As I watched, the hair on
my arm simply vanished. I could feel the difference in my pants, as well. My
legs suddenly felt smoother.
My heart hammering, I bitterly asked, "And what about
*your* promise? Are you going to wake old-me up? We have to ask him about
Rogue. About where her real memories are."
"Don't worry, I'll keep my promise. Not tomorrow, but
the day after. If he hasn't woken up by the evening, I'll give him a
stimulant."
I angrily grabbed my things and headed out. "Then I
believe that I'm though here."
*****
"So, like, what was going on with Tony Amoretti during
gym class?"
I was wearing a huge over-sized T-shirt from Rogue's
drawer. I had copied it, fixed the weave a bit, and oversized it to fit my
male body. It felt…comfortable. Kitty was wearing pajamas that looked like
oversized hospital scrubs, and Jackie wore a see-through teddy. It would have
looked sexy as all get-out on her regular (overstuffed) body – but it looked
kind of sad on Rogue's gawky frame.
"Jackie," I told her, "why don't you give it
a rest? Rogue was never meant to wear clothes like that. I hate to say it,
but it's kind of tragic. Why don't I whip you up something like the T-shirt I've
got on?"
Jean said, "I have to agree. That outfit…it kind of
needs a fuller figure, you know?"
Not that Jean was dressed all that different. She had on
her own see-through teddy, but at least she had a robe thrown over it. On the
other hand, now that we were all locked in the bedroom, she was making no
effort to keep the robe closed.
"Jean, do you mind? Some of us are guys here."
She gave me a penetrating gaze. "Where?"
"Me!"
She smirked. "I don't think so. Right now, a guy
would be going out of his mind with all these girls around him engaging in a
little pillow talk. You aren't even turned on."
"Well I *should* be. Wait a minute! How do *you*
know? You haven't been peeking, have you?"
She gave me an indignant look. "Never! Professor X
would never let me hear the end of it if I used a probe on you. But trust me,
you don't have to look for emotions like that when most people are
broadcasting. You aren't even sending out a tendril of interest, girl,"
she said straight to me, "whereas our friend 'Rogue' over there is about
to die from frustration."
"I'm still a guy inside," Jackie said, examining
herself in a mirror. "Yeah, you're right. Give me another one of those
T-shirts."
I materialized it and tossed it to her. She slinked out of
the teddy and pulled the shirt over her head.
"Believe me, girls," she continued, "you are
*not* safe with me around."
"I, like, totally cannot believe this," Kitty
said. "How would I ever describe this? Trapped in my own room while a
cheerleader flirts with a lesbian, and my sex-changed roommate explains how she's
really a guy even though we all know that it's all in her mind. I can just
imagine trying to explain this to, like, my parents or anyone halfway normal."
"Hey!" the rest of us yelled.
Kitty shrugged. "Well if the shoe fits…"
"So you were telling us about gym class," Jean
reminded me.
"Yeah!" Kitty said. "What's it like, seeing
all those guys in the buff? Were they, like, totally studly, or just kind of
gross?"
"I was not looking at their bodies!" I protested.
"Not even their butts?" Not surprisingly, that
last came from Jackie, the only self-admitted sex-freak of our group.
"No, not even their butts," I said, then slipped, "not
when I could help it."
"Oho!" Jean jumped on my slip immediately.
"Who were they? We want names and rankings!"
"Well…NO! I do not look at other men's butts!"
"Not even Evan's?"
I looked in shock at Kitty. I thought she was so innocent!
"Kitty, come on!" I admonished. "He's an
athlete. He works out all the time! Of course he's got a set of tight buns."
"Ah ha!"
"Oops."
"What about…" Jean toyed with an idea for a
moment. "What about Scott?"
I hung my head. "Tight. Real tight. And firm."
"Always knew he was a tight ass," came a
well-practiced southern drawl.
After Jean was done beating something down with her pillow,
I got tired of the suspense. "Well?"
"What?"
"Isn't anyone going to ask me about Kurt?"
Kitty stuck her tongue out. "The fuzzy elf? Naked?
Oh, major yuk!"
Jean and Jackie shared a look between them and nodded to
each other.
"Please," Jean said, "tell us. How was Kurt's
butt?"
"Oh, go away! It was just a hologram!"
"Why, Sugar, y'all don't need a telepath to spot a major
blush on someone's face!"
I put my head down on the bed, hiding my face.
"So, like, you never *did* tell us what happened to
make Scott go psycho on Tony Amoretti."
"Uh, well…" I looked at Jean. "You have to
promise me you won't kill him."
"Scott? What did he do?"
"No, Tony."
"Give, girl!" Kitty yelled at me, then sat back
in alarm. "Did I just say that to a guy? I must be, like, catching the
weirdness disease from the rest of you."
"Well," I began, "I was discussing something
with Scott and Evan in the locker room. We must have mentioned Rogue's name,
because that's the only part that Tony overheard. I was one of the first ones
out of the locker room, and Tony and his pals came up to me. He told me to
stay away from Rogue."
Kitty made a goofy face. "As if *that* were possible."
"Why?" Jackie asked.
"Well, he began implying that he and Rogue were an 'item',
and that she was his personal property." I looked at Kitty. "*Please*
tell me that I – I mean, that Rogue never had anything to do with him!"
"Well," she said, "you did have a couple of 'interactions'
with him. But you reacted like most everyone else in school does."
"How's that?"
"How do you react when you step in dog poop?"
"Oh, got it." What a relief.
Jean was starting to fume. "You still haven't told us
what he said!"
I took a shuddering breath and realized that I was shaking.
"Well, I don't remember all the words he used, thank goodness, but he said
that I, that Rogue was an 'easy' girl because I was a bad girl, and everyone
knew that bad girls were easy. And then he said that I'd slept with lots of
guys, lots and lots."
I looked up toward Kitty. I don't know why I expected her
to be able to provide comfort, but she slid off her bed and was up on mine
before I could blink. She had her arm wrapped around me and was speaking low,
comforting words.
"Come on, Rogue, you know that you couldn't even, like,
*touch* someone, much less do…that. They were doing what guys always do –
talking about what they think they know and what they wish was true."
I'd been slipping all evening, revealing more about what was
going on inside me than I'd ever intended to reveal. Kitty's arm around me
seemed to be crumbling those barriers even faster. A part of me was horrified
– this wasn't the way a brave soldier reacted. This wasn't how a man was
supposed to act at all. But a stronger part reveled in the sisterly touch and
the warmth of finally opening up and discovering that you really do have a
family – a trusting, loving, understanding family. That part of me began to
babble even more.
"They," I drew a shaky breath, "they kept
talking about what they were going to do to me. Why are the words so violent?
Poke, nail, screw, fuck. How they were going to grab me and squeeze parts of
me, and rape other parts of me."
By now, all three girls were on the bed holding me, stroking
my hair, or making soft comforting sounds.
"There now," Jean was saying, "sometimes it's
tougher to be a girl than a guy, isn't it?"
"You got *that* right!" Jackie said.
That was when I knew that I loved them all. Not in any
dirty sense, but like the sisters that I had never had, the sisters that I
would die to protect. And for a while, I forgave them all their faults, and
all the traits I was jealous of. I forgave Jean for being such a popular
preppie cheerleader soccer star; I forgave Jackie for her knockout body,
stealing my identity, and still being a guy; and as for Kitty, there was
nothing to forgive. She would always be my little sister, and I would protect
her with my life. Which reminded me….
"Uh, that isn't quite everything."
Kitty and Jean looked at me in alarm.
"Like, it gets worse?"
"Well, there was the speculation that all the girls
living here were lesbians, we had giant orgies every night, and I was still a
virgin, so Tony still has a chance to 'take my cherry.'"
Kitty was halfway between angry and sick.
"Wow," Jean said, "no wonder Scott went
ballistic."
"No," I said before my higher brain set in, "he
went ballistic about what Tony said about you."
The three of them stared at me. You'd think that might have
been a clue, but I continued on brainlessly. "How did it go? He called
you a 'major fuck toy' and then said something like, 'Yeah, Duncan Mathews is
my main man, and he swears that he has done *all* the cheerleaders. That girl
Jean was begging him to stuff her.' That was what sent Scott over the deep
end."
The other two girls scrambling off my bed was what warned
me. I looked up to see Jean suspended in the air, held aloft by what appeared
to be sheer rage. While the three of us took cover behind the bed, I watched
in sick fascination as the air itself seemed to ripple from the force of Jean's
rage. A moment later, she couldn't contain it any more.
"Duncan would *never* say that! Never! Tony Amoretti,
you…are…so…DEAD!"
The force rippled away from her and toppled beds, knocked
over dressers, and blew out the windows. A moment later, the boys came rushing
in, followed by the grownups. Scott (looking fairly cute in his preppie
pajamas) carefully edged up to Jean (who was still floating in mid-air).
"Jean? You okay?"
"Uh," I volunteered from my safe haven behind the
bed, "I sort of told her what Tony Amoretti said that Duncan Mathews
said…about her."
"Oh. Uh, I guess that explains it, then."
The guys stared at him. "Later!" he told them,
quietly.
"Scott," Jean roared. I mean, her voice had all
these weird echoes in it. "Is Tony Amoretti still alive?"
"Well, yeah, if you can call that living. He's got two
black eyes, he was beat up in front of the entire school, he and his two buds
were seen running away from a single attacker, and his pants fell down while
the entire school was watching. *And* he was only wearing a jockstrap."
I winced. Yeah, Tony's life was over.
"Tony Amoretti is MINE! He'll be sorry he was ever
BORN!"
"Sure, sure, he's all yours. You might want to make
double-check on whether Duncan really said anything, too. Tony tended to be a
little creative. I think that weakness is in check for a while."
*****
Snuggling into my sleeping bag, I actually felt happy. We
(the girls) had all moved to Jean's room. Even with plastic stapled up where
the windows used to be, winter weather made our room too cold until the windows
were repaired. Instead, we turned things into a big slumber party and camped
with Jean.
As I lay there thinking, I felt myself relaxing, and felt my
body ease back into being Rogue once more. For once, I didn't regret the
change. For once, I almost wanted to be a girl, surrounded by my new sisters,
after sharing fears and pains that the boys would never know.
I felt a tear of sorrow slip down the side of my face. In
the light of day it was hard to accept, but here surrounded by my best friends,
I could admit that part of me – maybe most of me – *was* Rogue. The emotions,
reactions, and feelings were all hers. She wanted her life back. And me?
Whatever "I" was, was nothing more than an illusion. I was a holding
pattern, keeping things sane until Rogue could get her true memories back. And
then I would be gone, with nothing and no one to regret my departure. As
another tear joined the first, I let myself feel jealousy for her. Rogue had
been so angry, but I was finally seeing how she'd had so many friends. There
was no denying that she'd have a challenging life, but she was a very lucky
girl. In some ways, I wouldn't have minded being her. But that couldn't be.
Continued in Chapter 7, appearing NEXT Sunday!
since 03/02/03
