Summary: High School Craziness-O-Rama.  Jean learns what worries Scott.  Kitty learns how not to be a cheerleader.  And Kurt learns what it truly means to be "cool."  Fairly Kurtty.  Definitely Jott. 

Category: Humor/Romance/Drama

Rating: PG-13 for some bad words and a high school plotline that's deeper than, "Is the basketball team going all the way this year?"

Some Random Notes: Hi, everybody!  *waves*  I'm still preparing the finale for Project: Wagner, although a mountain of schoolwork has made the process unbearably slow.  Don't worry, it will get finished.  :)  This little story was going to go into the Project, but it got a bit too long for a one-shot, so I had to make it its own separate thing.  And last but not least, the umlaut over the "u" in the title of this piece creates a kind of "oo" noise.  I leave the rest to you.  Happy reading! :D

=== KÜL ===


Kurt Wagner whistled a little tune as he slouched off to his next class, his backpack over one shoulder.  Dressed in his typical tan pants and a dark green shirt, he went practically unnoticed in the throng of people in the hall --- a noisy, rainbow-colored sea of excited students.  It was the first day of Spring Semester, and everybody was still kind of loopy, not quite done with Christmas break.

The mid-morning sun streamed in through the windows, and Kurt did his best to avoid it, like he did most things.  He smiled politely as he passed a group of girls, and they giggled.  To most everyone here, he was "that goofy foreign guy."  Friendly enough, but just "kinda weird, 'ya know?"

"Hey Kurt!"

Kurt whirled around and saw Kitty Pryde running to catch up with him.

"So, are you going to the Club Fair at lunch?" she asked, without stopping for breath.

"Uh, I sink so.  You?"

"Oh, definitely.  I can't wait to sign up for the cheerleading tryouts!  Yee!  Bye-ee!" 

And with that, she zipped by him, running off to another class.  Kurt scratched his head.  He hadn't seen Kitty this excited since last Friday's sale at the mall.  Still puzzling over this, he wandered off down the hall, weaving expertly around a group of jocks.  Some poor soul in a dirty brown sweater was shoved into his path.  He dodged at the last second.  The sweater looked like a smear of mud as the kid fell, landing hard on the floor.  The pusher, a huge football player, grinned and snickered.  The kid in the sweater snarled like a tortured dog, and Kurt escaped before the incident turned into something worse.

~ X ~

Jean Grey was annoyed.  She'd been shooting Scott Summers meaningful looks all throughout Chemistry, but the object of her stares wasn't paying attention to her.  He seemed to be focused completely on Mrs. McCarran, their teacher, who was blathering on about high energy and low energy bonds.  In Jean's exalted opinion, Mrs. McCarran was as wrinkled as a badly dried raisin and about as interesting as a rock.  She sighed and stared at the clock on the wall.  Only three more minutes until lunch, and then she could get Scott alone and talk to him. 

He seemed to be pretty bummed.  Maybe it was because she was still technically dating Duncan --- which was what she wanted to talk to him about.  Duncan had been a fun ride, but lately, friendly chats had turned to fights, and telephone calls to shouting.  It was over.  It had officially been over for a few days now, and Jean was about ready to pick herself up and go after someone good.

Scott was definitely someone good.


There was a general melee and confusion as the class hurried to get out the door.  In the middle of the hustle and shoving, Jean gathered her books and walked over to Scott, who was still staring at where Mrs. McCarran had stood at the board --- only Mrs. McCarran had gone to her desk.  Scott was either amazed by the blackboard, or…

Jean gently shoved his shoulder.  Scott toppled over like a rickety tinker toy, a snore escaping his narrow nose, and he bumped his head on the desk.  Obviously, this was one of the many advantages of sunglasses.  Jean giggled and tousled his hair as he woke up.


"Hey, sleepy-head.  It's time for lunch.  Let's get out of here before Pruneface sees you were napping."

"I wasn't napping," Scott said defensively, standing up a bit too straight and gathering his books.

"You have drool on your chin," Jean pointed out.  Scott started wiping furiously at his face, and she snickered.  "Come on.  I'll buy you lunch.  We have some things to talk about, you and I."

"We do?" Scott asked, surprised.  Jean had been so distant for the past few days.  It might be something bad.  But then again, he could hope.  "Really?"

She just smiled.

~ X ~

Kitty knelt in the grass of the football field.  She was breathing hard, spitting, hacking up dust, and tying her shoe.  If anyone had been watching her, they would have found this a bit disgusting.  Fortunately, no one was looking.  Except for a few people, everyone was busy hauling themselves towards the finish line of the "four times around the track" mile run.  It was a monthly monstrosity forced upon her gym class by Mrs. Finch, the ladies' basketball coach. 

Kitty made a bow with her laces and decided that being a superhero on the side had its advantages.  Thanks to early morning Danger Room sessions, periodic fights with the Brotherhood, dance parties and PE, she was in excellent shape.  She'd finished in 10 minutes, a time which, she was sure, would impress Bridget, Leila and Titania. 

Known collectively as "BLT," they were cheerleaders, with considerable sway over the football team.  They were the top dogs of the cheerleading squad.

Now Kitty was a fast runner, and a well-organized girl.  There were certain things she'd decided to get: a boyfriend (check, Lance was working out okay), good grades (check, she was pretty smart and the professor was usually around to answer homework questions), nice clothes (check, Daddy always sent money and the Mall was nearby), and breasts (working on it).

But what Kitty most wanted to be, right at this moment, wasn't a good student, or someone's girlfriend, or Daddy's little girl, or even a superhero.  Kitty Pryde wanted desperately to be a cheerleader.  She knew that The Big Three had been judging her run, and maybe even her body. 

She kept the fingers of one hand crossed as she stripped in front of her locker, throwing her smelly, gray uniform into a laundry bag, and she listened.

"You know, recruiting season starts tomorrow," she heard, from the opposite side of the bank of lockers.  "What about that Pryde girl?"

It was Leila.  Kitty's ears pricked up.  The Big Three were holding court.

"I don't know, she looked a little ungainly," Titania said.  "Doesn't really have anything here, 'ya know?"

Kitty looked at her nearly flat chest and sighed.  She knew exactly where "here" was.  Well, she was working on it.  That was what padded bras were for.  Duh!

"Yeah, but she's got, like, way too much down there!" Bridget said, laughing.

Kitty's blue eyes went wide as she unconsciously began feeling her hips, belly, and butt.  Those were slim, taut, and small, respectively, but her lip was quivering anyway.

"Yeah, you're right!" Titania said, laughing too.  "She's just not cheerleading material.  And have you seen her hair?  It's like she's got a big brown mop on her head!  She wouldn't fit in at all!"

"Yeah.  She's just totally fat and ugly.  There's no way."

Kitty's impression of herself, which had been basically okay before this conversation, had transformed completely.  She stared into the mirror in her locker's door and watched in horror as her hips expanded to the point where her body resembled like a pear.  The healthy brown locks flowing down her shoulders turned mousy-colored and bushy.  Her belly pooched out.  Her ass exploded into a huge, cream-colored mountain behind her.  Her shoulders slumped.  Her knees knocked together.  She sprouted buck teeth and horn-rimmed glasses.

With a slight shriek, she sat down on the bench, defeated, and shook her head to clear it.  Taking a quick look in the mirror again, she saw herself as she normally looked, as though nothing had happened to the reflection.  But she couldn't stand it anymore.

It was official.  She was unacceptable.

She got dressed, grabbed her books, and hurried off to Biology.