Cinderellas
10
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Cinderellas Chapter Ten (NC-17)
Disclaimers Apply
A/N Goddess Foxfeather, BUSIEST WOMAN ALIVE ™, Prophetic
Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta, I think the computer gnomes are out to get
me… Readers/Reviewers:
the prequel to this on Fem-X.
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Wingdings'>J
Remember
when you were a kid and would fall off your bike or skates or whatever and
scrape your knee? And remember, before
it would scab over, it would get to that weird stage where it looked like
strawberry jam and was all pinky red and had little dots in it where the blood
was coagulating? And it was tender and
stung? That’s what my entire body, inside
and out, felt like the day after Jubilee broke up with me.
bed. I cried so hard I dry-heaved and
ended up a crusty, sticky mess because I was out of tissues.
paper in the upstairs bath and two hand towels because I didn’t want to go
downstairs and risk seeing her. I knew
she did not come up to bed that night—I would have heard her.
she went to bed, she would turn on her radio and I could hear the pop music she
liked so much through my wall. That
night, though, there was silence. I
could hear Kitty arguing with Kurt about something, Jean laughing over
something Rogue said, and then Logan calling for lights out.
and over in my mind. I went from being
shocked to depressed to angry. Wasn’t I
good enough? Was this some sick game
she was playing and now she got tired of it, the blackmail and harassment a
convenient excuse? No, I told myself,
it wasn’t. I was angry at her because
she made me feel.
For years,
growing up in a strict home, I had been told this sort of thing was a sin and
wrong. I remember David Cory getting
hit with his Da’s belt for looking at another boy. Just looking, mind. He
didn’t even speak to the other boy. I
remember my mother making me pray for all the catamites and sodomites, as she
called them…or is it us now?…and telling me they were going to burn in Hell for
being abominations. I knew better,
though. I knew, in my heart of hearts,
it wasn’t a sin. That still didn’t make
it easy for me when Jubilee came to me…
But I loved her. I loved her
with everything in me. She was and is
my best friend, we understood each other so completely and deeply that, even
without being lovers, we had a connection that made words unnecessary
sometimes. We knew when the other was
upset, happy, stressed…Hell, we even knew when the other was hungry without
them saying anything. We teased each
other that it was meant to be since even our cycles were in sync.
that made her her. I even loved her
strange logic and perfectionist tendencies.
Saying it to myself makes it sound so much less than it was and even is
to me now. Words don’t do feelings
justice.
I lay there
all night, the green numbers on my bedside clock the only light in the room as
the thunderstorm outside built intensity.
I wondered if Storm were angry or if this was just Mother Nature herself,
unaided. Around two in the morning, I
rolled onto my side to watch the lightening, silver streaking across the sky,
and I got an idea. A notion, actually.
Quicksilver. Pietro Maximoff, chief
asshole of the Brotherhood. Actually, I
think he and Lance shared that title most weeks. But the lightening gave me a notion and I found myself on my feet
and rifling through my dresser drawers before I even realized what I was
doing. They had the pictures, they
knew. They tried to embarrass us at
lunch and what’s more, I was certain they would step things up at school
that day if they had the chance.
the drawers in the dark, not even looking as I took out heavy socks and a
sweater and found the jeans I had on at school the day before.
Logan was
up, I knew, as I crept out of my room and down the stairs.
could hear him moving quietly downstairs, pacing and prowling as he does every
night even now. I had often wondered
about the nightmares that made his shouts filter up to my room late at night
but had never gotten the courage to ask, and as I made my way down the stairs,
my boots in my hand and stocking feet slipping slightly on the polished wood
risers, I damned the dreams that were making my escape difficult.
froze. In four steps, I would be in his
line of sight should he be standing at the refrigerator door as I reached the
bottom of the back staircase leading to the old service entrance.
a strip off my hide for not only sneaking out but doing it on a school
night. Or morning, as it were.
chair to sit. Damn it…depending on the
chair, he could still see me as I crossed the hallway.
the Holy Mother I could think if, I ran on my toes across the hall to the back
door. No footsteps followed me and I
was safe for the moment. Now, the hard
part. He would hear the door, he would
smell the night air and lightening ozone as I left. I had to be fast, fast as I had ever been.
courage, and eased the door open.
There. I heard it. He moved.
see me. I took off at a dead run, my
boots still clutched in my hand, and headed for the woods across the
grounds. I didn’t hear if he was behind
me or not, I just ran. The
and I sucked in a great breath as I got inside the tree line.
inspiration and rolled them into a bundle.
I would have to leave my boots but it was a small matter.
at a jog, no where near as fast as I had come, sure he could find the sneaking
student easily. I knew he could smell
me and that thought made my heart hammer harder. The transformation did not take long but it felt like an eternity
as I shifted and changed, the small pain that always came with it singing in my
veins. He was almost on me
surprise that morning.