Confusion


Kurt Wagner didn’t much feel like going down to dinner with the other students. He didn’t much feel like sitting at the table, quietly chewing a piece of overcooked chicken while his friends tried to figure out what to say to break the uncomfortable silence.

The CD in his Walkman had long since gone silent, and he didn’t much feel like changing it.

No, Kurt Wagner did not feel like getting up off of his bed.

Was it his fault who his mother was? Was it his fault his nightmares were so intriguing? Was it his fault he looked the way he did? “Nein,” he answered out loud, and angrily snatched the headphones off of his pointed ears.

With a BAMF!, the sound of imploding air, and the smell of brimstone smoke, he was off of the bed and in front of his mirror. As he dropped the Walkman and headphones into an empty drawer, he caught his own eye in the reflecting glass. Fine blue fur covered every square inch of his skin, including the three fingers on each hand and two toes on each foot. His eyes had been normal, save the fact that they were white, although lately they had taken on a yellowish tint.

The tiny fangs in his mouth made him all the more aware that he wasn’t normal, and the 3 1/2 foot long tail did nothing to help matters.

“Nein,” he remarked sarcastically, “I’m not a freak at all...and my mother isn’t evil and my father isn’t anonymous and I’m NOT confused AT ALL.” Kurt pulled a strand of blue hair away from his oddly colored eyes and BAMFed back onto his bed. “I won’t go down to dinner,” he thought. “They deserve a normal meal...”

Kitty Pryde glared at her fellow X-man, Evan Daniels, who had very rudely interrupted her while she was in the middle of a complicated math problem. “Like, what is it now?” she twittered.

Evan leaned against the door frame, his arms crossed mockingly. “Dinner,” he answered, “and you were supposed to set the table tonight.”

“I so do not have, like, the TIME for this,” she snapped, slamming her books closed.

“Too bad,” he remarked, “because Jean made spaghetti...”

Kitty stood up and haughtily phased through her antagonist, heading for the stairs.

Logan, known as Wolverine, relaxed at the long dinner table, gestured towards the empty chair beside him. “Charles, I’ve a feelin’ the elf won’t be joinin’ us tonight.”

Professor Charles Xavier nodded. “I agree with you, Logan. He needs time to get used to his family relations-as I imagine the other students do. It may well be a week or two before he’s comfortable with who he is.”

“The other kids don’t hate him-”

“I never implied that they did. They simply don’t know how to talk to him about it, and-” A slight cough from Logan alerted the Professor to the fact that Kitty and Evan had entered the dining hall, and Scott Summers was not far behind. As they took their seats, Kitty glanced at Kurt’s empty chair. “D’you think-”

Logan shook his head sharply and helped himself to the spaghetti Jean had levitated in front of him.

The red-haired woman sat down. “It’s too bad,” she sighed. “None of us meant to make him feel so.....”

“Alone?” offered Evan.

“Yeah,” added Scott, “We’re behind him on this 100 percent, and he oughta know that. After what we’ve gone through together...”

Kitty swallowed a mouthful of spaghetti. “I thought he like, took it pretty well and all. Having a mother on the dark, icky side is a tough thing, and like, he didn’t show anything at all...”

“In shock,” Evan pointed out, “You don’t want t’ believe that bad stuff happened, and so you go into denial and shock, and you won’t talk about it. Just can’t believe it’d happen to him, you know? The goofman himself-just doesn’t seem FAIR.”

Scott interrupted. “Life isn’t fair. And it wasn’t like it was some big secret; they DO both have blue skin-well, he’s got fur, but it’s blue all he same. Anyone smart enough could put two and two together-”

There was a slight silence, during which Logan smirked the whole way. “You’re sayin’, kid, that none of us were smart enough to figure it out? Mystique’s not exactly a squealer.”

Kitty squirmed. “Shouldn’t we like, go up and talk to him? He’s gotta want to talk to someone.”

“Yeah, but not you.” Evan grinned, and Kitty flung a limp spaghetti noodle at him.

Professor X nodded. “You’re all right, but he will need time before he’s ready to talk about his thoughts. Now. Let’s just enjoy our dinner, shall we?”

As the others set about eating their pasta, Kitty muttered, “But he’s GOTTA talk sometime.”

Rogue hadn’t gone down to dinner either, having preferred a dry tuna sandwich in her room. She, unlike the others, had no trouble believing Mystique was Kurt’s mother. “After all,” she told herself, “she kept her secrets from me long enough.” She put her glass of water down and left her room, quietly heading down the hallway in her slippers and flannel robe.

At Kurt’s door, she hesitated, but knocked. “Kurt?” she asked softly, “It’s me, Rogue. Ah wanted to talk to ya about...ya know....”

Silence. “Well, if ya wanna talk about it later, ya know mah room number and all...”

The door popped open a few inches, and Rogue could see that Kurt had been crying.

“I don’t really want to talk about it at all, Rogue.”

“No, ah...ah should’ve guessed. Ah just thought maybe ah could understand.”

“Of course, you of all of us might. I just don’t think....”

Rogue adjusted her black gloves. “Well, none of us hate ya or feel any differently-actually, everyone’s just hoping you’ll be all right. They wanna talk to ya, they just dunno what t’ say. Afraid to hurt your feelin’s, ah guess.”

Kurt closed his eyes and opened the door, revealing a pile of tissues on the floor where they had spilled from the garbage can. “Ja...bitte, if you want to talk-then I suppose I’ll let you. It might help.”

“For your sake,” Rogue thought, “Ah hope it does.”