This is just something that popped into my head.

Oh, yea, I don't own anything either.

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Damn, why do all mutant guys have to be so hot? Well, excepting Dukes and Toad-boy. Carla Wise thought as she sat in her Algebra class staring forlornly at Bobby Drake. She'd followed the Mutant Crisis with interest and had, from a distance, gotten to know all of the mutants that matriculated to all of the Bayville public schools. She'd even figured out a few of their mutations. She knew that Jean Grey—the star of everything, she thought with a roll of her eyes—had mind reading powers and could move stuff; telepathy and telekinesis. Scott Summers, the guy with the ever- present ruby glasses, could shoot lasers from his eyes. But they graduated last year.

And what a weird Graduation it was. She was there to watch her cousin—Darrell North—graduate. First, that guy with the helmet and henchmen showed up and then some chick—a mutant obviously—trashed graduation. She wondered briefly if it had anything to do with those creepy domes that had appeared everywhere. Probably. It wasn't really that she didn't like mutants, she was afraid of what would happen if one of them got out of control. Just like a regular person, only a lot more dangerous.

Algebra, Carla, Algebra. You aren't going to pass this god-forsaken class if you don't pay attention! She mentally scolded herself. And, despite all mental reprimand, she continued to stare longingly at the back of Bobby Drakes' head. Damn. If only he were normal. She thought. She knew she could never willingly date a mutant. How could she let something so dangerous near her? It would be like dating a cobra: beautiful and enchanting while under its spell but deadly in a heart beat. But, Bobby's not like that. I've had to work with him before and he's not like that. Was that all just a lie? Like he lied about being normal? Ok, so he never really lied about it, it was more of a sin of omission. She nearly burst out laughing at her thoughts. God, here I am, in my Algebra class, thinking about Bobby freakin' Drake and sins of omission. What the hell is wrong with this picture?

"Miss Wise." Carla's head snapped up at her name, her expression slightly guilty, as if she had been entertaining thoughts that weren't appropriate for Algebra. She received a stern "pay attention" look before Mrs. Harris went back to X, Y, and any other part of the alphabet she decided to throw in. She turned back to staring at the back of his head. What, no, who are you Bobby Drake?

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Bobby plunked down at the unofficial X-Men table in Bayville High's cafeteria. He stayed silent for the first fifteen minutes he'd been there—hell must have frozen over, although, Bayville High (his version of Hell) seemed rather untouched by any unlikely frost. Both Ray and Sam noticed his unusual silence.

"Drake, man, what's with you?" Ray asked casually. Bobby looked up from the seemingly
oh-so-interesting roll on his tray.

"Nothing really, man. You know that Wise chick? With the weird eyes?" For Christ's sake, you're a mutant, Drake, and you're calling her weird.

"Think so."

"She was starin' at me all class. I swear, it was like she was burnin' holes in the back of my head."

"Really? Man, wonder what her deal is." Ray said semi-thoughtfully before adding, "Maybe she's got the hots for you." Bobby looked startled.

"You think? Nah, she couldn't. She hasn't talked to me since she found out I'm a mutant." He lowered his head a little. She was actually kinda nice before that. Always thought she had a real great smile. He looked over to where she usually sat—one of the farther corners of the cafeteria, usually with only one or two friends—to find her staring back at him.

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Oh, my, god! He did not just catch me staring at him! Why did he look over here? Was he looking for me? Does he know what I'm thinking? Can he know what I'm thinking? Oh, man, what's his power? Think, Carla, think! She held his ice-blue gaze for a few fleeting seconds before turning away. Her heart was pounding in her ears. She couldn't think. She definitely couldn't keep up with any kind of conversation between her friends at the moment. She stood up and muttered a lame excuse before scurrying off to the bathroom.

She stared in the mirror at herself. Her cheeks were flushed and her breathing labored like she had just run a marathon. Calm down, damn it! He just looked at you! That's it. It was just a look. As her breathing returned to normal, she stared at her bright gold eyes. Not for the first time, she noted the way the different hues of gold, yellow, and brown seemed to swirl together. She took a deep breath, running her hand through her light auburn locks. You're fine. It was nothing. He didn't even mean to look at you. Her pulse sped a little again. Yea, tell that to my heart.

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Bobby watched, startled, as she ran away from the table after breaking his gaze. Weird. But he couldn't help wondering why she did that. Does she really like me? A thought, an oddly painful thought, came after that one. Or is she just afraid of me?

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Well, I've had this one written for a while, but haven't gotten around to posting it. I debated on posting it for a while and finally gave in. I don't have any more ideas as for continuing it; it's more of a one-shot type, unless I get my butt in gear and brow beat my brain into thinking of something...which I will try...eventually...