Chapter 3- Snow Drifts- or
Then evening of the dance was one of great tensions at the Institute. Jean had left earlier. Duncan was taking her to dinner with the rest of the team and their dates. She had swept down the stairs like a queen, and hadn’t even given Scott a glance. Or even a glare, which is what she had been doing as of late.
He however, had his eyes glued to her, that is, until he managed to wrench them away, and back to his magazine.
Poor Scott, Kitty thought. She and Kurt exchanged knowing glances. Rogue and herself didn’t have rides to the dance (or dates) so he had volunteered to transport them there. He even said he might stay a while. Which would be good, because if Kitty wasn’t having a good time, she could always go back with him.
Once again Kitty groused about the fact the certain guy she liked hadn’t asked her. But he probably thought she was a baby, especially after the way she had been acting lately.
Reaching out for her water glass, she fazed right through it as Scott caught her by surprise.
"You know, I think I’ll go to the dance too." Evan choked on he spaghetti in surprise.
"You’re what, man?!" Evan stared wide-eyed. Kitty could relate. Not an hour ago Scott had been commenting loudly that high school dances were so immature. He marched upstairs with purpose, as the rest stared on.
Evan stood up disgusted. "Great! I’m the only one not going to this stupid dance! Man!" and her marched out too.
Kitty inched her chair closer to Kurt’s "Like, what do you think brought that on?" she asked quietly.
"He probably can’t stand the thought of Duncan having Jean all to heemself. He just wants to watch, you know, ruin the evening for her."
"Why!?" Kitty asked.
Kurt sighed, like he was explaining something to a two year old. "So she’ll get mad and yell at him, of course. Which is the only time she pays attention to him."
"She pays attention to him." Kitty defended.
"Well sure. "Pass the potatoes" and "Watch Out!" that’s real nice. He really likes her."
"And she really likes him."
"What about Duncan?"
"I don’t know. I think- I think she, like, wants to make him jealous. And she doesn’t like it when he bosses her around. You know…" Kitty tried to explain, but as usual, ended up sounding like an idiot.
"Probably. Someone should get them really drunk and lock them in a closet together." Kurt stated frustratedly.
"Kurt!" Kitty screeched, laughing loudly and drawing attention. "Gross!"
Kitty got up, still chuckling. "Well, I better go get ready. See ya!"
Kurt checked his watch. "Keety! You have more than an hour!"
"Yeah, well. It’ll take me that long to become beautiful." she sighed dejectedly.
"It never has beefore." Kurt stated simply, before turning slightly pink. Kitty mirrored his flush before dashing upstairs. She restrained herself until she reached her room, before letting out a shout of joy.
*
"Oh yeah, Duncan, that was a great pass." Jean agreed. It was about the Fifty-ninth time the team had discussed Duncan’s pass in the game verses Plymouth. That night. This is ridiculous! She thought, wishing she had stayed home and gone to the dance with her friends. She really liked, Duncan, but sometimes he could be so- so- boring? single-minded? And all of the other football player’s dates weren’t any help. Jean was pretty sure she was the only one there with an IQ above 3.
She hated to admit it, but in most cases, Scott was right. Duncan wasn’t a jerk, or mean. But he was- well, everything else.
She could conjure up the image of a smirking Scott if she ever told him this. She narrowed her eyes instinctively. I will have fun tonight if it kills me, she vowed. I wont let Scott- or anyone else- ruin it. She smiled at Duncan as he looked at her questioningly.
"What was that?" she asked.
"I asked you what you thought of my pass."
*
"Ya gonna tell me why you’re in my room do'in a dance?" Rogue asked, after she had regained her wits after the initial shock of Kitty’s arrival had worn off.
"Nope!" Kitty said happily, plunking her make-up on Rogue’s vanity table. Rogue instantly regretted agreeing to help Kitty with her make-up and hair. She had been having second thoughts about going to the dance, but now that the insistent Kitty had shown up… She would be going.
Rogue talked Kitty out of putting her hair up, which is what every girl at the school would be doing, and convinced her to keep it down.
"Do what evah you like, jus keep it down." She urged, leaning over the table to she her reflection.
She looked- nice. Pretty. It was weird. She just hoped no guys suddenly got the idea that her being at a dance meant she was on the market.
Rogue was putting the finishing touches on her make-up when there came a knock on the door.
"Rogue? Keety? Scott say’s he’ll drive us, but you have to hurry up!" The door knob turned.
"Don’t come in!" yelled Kitty franticly. "Don’t you dare!" she heard Kurt’s disgusted exclamation of "Girls!" and laughed.
Rogue was ready to leave when Kitty gave a shout. "Hey Rogue! You forgot your spray!" Kitty was referring to a liquid that when sprayed, sealed off her skin. It didn’t smell funny, and it didn’t look weird. But she still didn’t like it. Luckily, it lasted for about three hours, so it wore of eventually.
Before Rogue could argue, Kitty was spraying her with it. "Blech!" Rogue gagged as Kitty sprayed it in her face, some had gotten in her mouth.
Kitty giggled. "Common, lets go! Before Scott ditches us!" Rogue had regained her composure buy the time they had reached the front hall. Evan, still grumpy, sat on the couch and catcalled.
Kitty was surprised to see both Scott and Kurt in tuxes. Kurt was pulling on his, with a look of disgust on his face. She smiled brilliantly as she flew past him out the door and to the car. She liked the way his mouth was ajar, and his eyes and wide s they could go. She felt almost like Jean, powerful. Of course, she almost ruined it all by giggling.
Oh well, what are you going to do? She thought, as they trooped, shivering out to the car. It was not exactly weather for dresses and high heals, she almost got buried in a shifting snowdrift.
Finally in the car, with the heater on, and Scott going 60 miles an hour so as not to miss a single glimpse of Jean, they were off.