I showed Jonothan the guest room and went into my old bedroom. Nothing had changed. Stuffed animals still in place on the shelf, pillows on the bed, even the stupid fake flowers hadn't been taken out. I sat on a chair and picked up the phone. Kinda funny, I remembered some of the old conversations I had on this thing, and here I was gettin' married...or whatever, and runnin' away from stuff, callin' on my kiddie phone. It rang. If anyone else but her picked up...

Emma answered the phone.

"Hi, Ms. Frost. You wanted me to call?" I said.

"Yes, I just wanted to be sure you and Jono got to Kentucky safely without any problems," she told me. I assured her all was well and after a brief discussion hung up.

I made my way into the bathroom and washed off my face. As I was drying it, I heard Mom and Dad come in. I hurried downstairs to meet them.

"Summer?" Mom shrieked, running over to me and giving me a big hug. "Why didn't you tell us you were coming home, sweetie? I would have made pot roast for dinner!"

I gave her a sheepish little smile. "It was sort of a last minute decision, Momma. Sorry," I told her.

"Oh, that's okay, we're just glad to have you back home," Dad told me.

"What brings you so suddenly?" Mom asked.

Not again! I can't handle this right now! At that moment, the phone rang.

"I'll get it!" chorused the twins as they both ran for the phone. After a brief squabble, Brandon finally answered it.

"Hello?" His eyebrow rose. "Angelo? I don't know if she wants to talk to you. Let me check." He put his hand over the receiver and was about to ask when I shook my head rapidly.

"Tell him I can't talk right now. Tell him not to worry about it."

It was dumb. I knew that. He'd worry about it. He'd smoke a million packs of cigarettes. He'd call again. I'd talk to him then, but not now. I ran up to my room and flung myself on the bed. Not really having the tears to cry, but wanting to.

A minute or so later Mom and Dad came into the room and sat on the edge of my bed. Dad reached out and stroked my hair and tried to shush me.

"Shhhhh...it's okay, Summer. Do you want to talk about it with your dear ol' Dad?" he inquired gently. I sat up and nodded, sniffling, and he took me in his arms in a big bear hug.

"What happened, sweetie?" Mom asked.

I sniffed again. "A-Angelo and I had a fight!" I began crying in earnest and Mom handed me a Kleenex. I blew my nose and continued. "I said some things and he said some things, and before I knew it, I was so mad I hit him!"

"Oh, honey," Mom said soothingly. "I'm sorry."

"You'll be okay," Dad told me. "It'll just take some time to calm down, that's all--"

I sat up, breaking away from his hug. "But you don't understand," I wailed. "He's my fiancé!" Mom took a step back. "What?!"

Dad stared. "Why in heaven's name didn't you tell us!"

I took a deep breath. "It only happened a few days ago, while Kris was there. Ya know? Everything was goin' good. I mean really good. Things get weird up there, and things were just startin' to calm down, and then he asks me to marry him. I love Ange with all my heart, I really do, and of course I said yes. And I was gonna bring him home, he wanted to ask your permission," I looked to Dad, "And so we were gonna tell ya when we got here. But then...we had a fight. We never fight. But then we did, and he yelled at me. I mean, I deserved it, and--"

Dad cut me off, his face full of anger. "Did he hit you Summer?"

I bit my lip and shook my head, "No! He wouldn't ever. I don't want you to think he would. He just scared me, I'd never seen him so angry. And I hit him. It wasn't right or fair of me. I mean--I'm strong and his powers don't provide any protection from that."

Then both of my parents sat in silence. I had brought up the whole "mutant thing." I mean, they'd heard about Ange, they knew he was a mutant, but it's like as long as I didn't remind them, they wouldn't have to think about it.

"What did you fight about?" my mom asked.

"Um--I... I really don't want to talk about it now."

"Okay" Dad kissed me on the cheek and left. Mom stayed with me.

"Oh!" I gasped. "Um, a friend of mine came with me from the School, he's in the guest room."

"He?"

I took another deep breath. Ever since I came home, it had been one thing after another. "Yeah, uh, his name's Jonothan. When I left, he insisted on coming with me so I wouldn't get into trouble. He's a really good guy, Mom."

"A mutant."

I was getting to hate that word. "Yes, a mutant like me; like Kris; like Beth. He won't be any trouble, I swear, you'll never know he's here."

Mom obviously wasn't happy about a mutant stranger in her home, but I guess that much was understandable. "I'm sorry Momma, I didn't mean to come home like this."

"I know, sweetie. You just take it easy."

I smiled and laid down, closed my eyes. I heard the door click softly shut.

Thoughts were racing through my mind a million miles a minute. I kept seeing the look of hurt shock on Ange's face, hearing his pleas for me to stay... Eventually I drifted off into a restless sleep.

A couple of hours later I woke up. I needed to use the bathroom, so I got up and went out in the hallway. As I passed Blaine's room, I could hear the radio playing.

<Hey my love, do you believe that we might last a thousand years, or more if not for this, our flesh and blood, it ties you and me right up, tie me down...>

I could almost feel Ange's skin, wrapping itself around me, gently caressing me, his lips pressed against mine... I closed my eyes tightly and swallowed, choking back tears. Oh, no, not that song! Turn it off! Turn it off!

The music abruptly ceased and Blaine's door flew open. "Summer?"

Ohhhh, shoot, I must have projected... "Uh, yeah, Blaine?"

"Was that you--hey, are you okay?"

"Yeah, fine. I'm fine..." My voice wavered a bit.

He didn't bring up what had happened again. I guess he was trying not to upset me any more. Instead, he gave me a kiss on the cheek. "Night, Summer. Sleep tight. It'll be okay in the morning."

"Night, Blaine. And thanks."

"No problem." He hesitated. "What was that, Summer? I know I didn't hear you, but I heard you."

I wiped a hand across my eye. "Um...telepathy probably. I could have said it out loud and not noticed, but I doubt it. I'm kinda stressed, it just slipped from my mind probably."

"Telepathy? I didn't know you had telepathy."

"A...a lot of mutants have it as a secondary power. I do. I'm sorry if I scared you."

"No, no it just surprised me. It was weird. I couldn't hear your voice, but it was like there were these thoughts in my mind and it was you somehow."

"Yeah. That's a pretty good way o' saying it." I smiled at him.

"Can you say something like that to me again?"

("Of course. See? This way I'm in control. It's more directed. It's sharper and clearer than what slips out accidentally.")

He blinked. "Wow. That's strange." He smiled, which relieved any fears I had of him disliking the telepathy.

"Tell me about it. It just sneaked up on me one day. I'm sorry I woke you."

"No problem, Sis." He gave me a little hug and went back in his room and shut the door. I made my way to the bathroom and freshened up a bit. Grabbing a glass of water, I went back to my room.

On a hunch, I opened up the dresser drawer where my pajamas used to be. Fortunately, there was still a nightie inside. I slipped out of my clothes and pulled it on. "Ugh, I must have grown," I muttered to myself.

I climbed into bed and fell asleep what seemed like an eternity later.

Out of habit, I woke at about six in the morning. It never fails. I don't have to get up and I can't sleep, and every morning when I have to go to class, I feel like I need another couple of hours. Ah, well. Though after I thought about it, I had slept very well back in my old bed. As I walked across my room, I glanced up in the mirror and looked at myself. This nightgown had gotten a lot smaller. I mean, Emma could have gotten away with this, but not me. I thankfully slipped out of it and went to my bag.

"Oh great, this is absolutely wonderful." In my haste, not only had I forgotten pajamas, but I had packed mostly leotards and training outfits. I smacked my forehead at my stupidity. Okay, the best of the outfits would be my red uniform with the black sweatshirt. That would work, I mean, even "normal" people wore stretch pants kinda like this. I dressed and put my things in order before leaving to go eat.

I noticed the door to Jono's room was still shut. I imagined he wouldn't come out for much of any reason. I mean, he didn't need to eat, or drink, or anything, and he wasn't exactly Mr. Social, so I imagined he would stay in there for quite a while.

I heard noises coming from downstairs and went to see who was up. When I walked into the kitchen, both parents seemed to be surprised.

"Honey, what in the world are you doing up?" Mom inquired.

"Habit. Classes start at seven thirty so I need to be up at six."

My mother smiled faintly. "I can't ever remember you getting up willingly this early. What can I fix you to eat?"

"Whatever you have, don't go to any trouble." I looked to Dad, who sat at the table reading the newspaper and drinking a mug of coffee. "Mornin' Daddy."

"Morning, sweetheart. Did you sleep all right?"

I told him that I had.

"Well, I don't mind fixin' my baby some French toast or waffles or something. They've let you waste away at that academy!" Mom cut in.

I grinned. "I wouldn't say 'wasted away,' Momma, 'in shape' is more accurate. But waffles would be nice."

Mom grinned widely. I guess after I had been away for so long, she was very glad to fix me a "solid breakfast."

As she began measuring flour and other ingredients we chatted away about all sorts of things. We talked about my schooling, her and Dad's work, the twins, and just about everything else.

The waffle iron sizzled when she poured the batter in and secured the lid. "So," she began, "any idea how long you and your friend will be staying?"

"Just a few days. Well probably leave again day after tomorrow. As soon as Ang'lo and I have had a chance to cool off." I took a deep breath. "At school, there's only eight of us, really, and we're all very close. Word about anything spreads like wildfire, I need to give it a chance to calm down."

Dad spoke, "Do you know if you'll be able to catch a flight back soon, though?"

I thought for a moment. "Emma really doesn't like for us to be gone from the school long, so if I can't catch a plane this week, she'll send us a private jet to take us back."

My dad arched his eyebrows. "A private jet? Isn't that a little extravagant? Not to mention obsessive?"

I shook my head. "Not for Emma. She's extremely wealthy, sending a plane would be no trouble for her at all. As far as obsessiveness... Well, I can't blame her. Every time one of her students runs off," I thought of L.A. briefly, "there is a good chance things might get rough. She just wants too keep us safe."

Apparently the concept was still far above my parents head, I understood. But they didn't say any more on that. Momma pulled a waffle off the iron and onto a plate. She set it down in front of me, along with a tub of butter, a bottle of syrup and a glass of milk.

"Thanks." I smiled at her before digging in. Momentarily, the twins came down and attacked the stack of waffles Mom had fixed. From there, conversation turned more general: UK basketball, weather, work, college for the boys, and so on.

Brandon put his plate in the sink. "Well, by kiddo," he said hugging me. "I'll be back at the dorm for the rest of the week. I'm glad you came home, I've missed you."

"You too, Brandon." I squeezed his hand and he walked out of the room. In a moment or so, Blaine did about the same thing, but wished me well on the whole "engagement" thing.

("I love you,") I sent to him softly. He looked surprised at the telepathic contact, but smiled and hugged me good-bye.

"See ya, Summer."

Mom, Dad, and I sat in a comfortable silence for about fifteen minutes. I finished eating, Dad finished the paper, and Mom cleaned up the kitchen. I felt relaxed, coming home had been a good thing, despite its drawbacks.

Momma turned to me, "It's nearly seven thirty. Do you think your friend will be down soon?"

"I couldn't tell you. He's not very social. He might make an appearance or he might stay in the guest room for the whole stay, it's hard to tell. But guys?" I paused to make sure I had their attention. "Jonothan's a little different from most people you'll meet. When you all see him, be nice, all right? Honestly, he looks like a mugger or something, but he's..." I couldn't even bring myself to say 'heart of gold' cos I knew I'd laugh, "...a really great guy."

"How strange is he?" Dad asked skeptically.

I wasn't going to go into the full description, but I summed it up with, "He dresses all in black and he never talks out loud."

"Well," Mom said, "If he's too shy to come down, that's all right, but do you think I should make some extra waffles for him?"

I tried not to spew my milk across the room. "No. That would definitely not be a good idea."

This conversation was going downhill fast. I wanted to laugh hysterically, but neither of my parents would understand all of this no matter how hard I tried to explain.

"Well, what would he like then?"

This time I did laugh. "Not a thing. He doesn't eat."

I realized I should have added something about his powers when my mom said, "Oh of course he does, he might not like to eat but--"

I interrupted gently, "I'm sorry. I didn't go about this the right way. When I say he doesn't eat, I don't mean by choice. His mutant powers make it impossible for him to eat; he can't."

"Can't? I'm afraid I don't understand..." Mom stammered. "How can someone not eat?"

I sighed, trying to think of a way I could put this delicately. "When his powers first manifested, they...damaged his body. Half of his chest and the bottom part of his face were mutilated," I explained nervously. "So, ah, he can't exactly eat like the rest of us."

Both of their eyes widened, and I could sense neither wanted to believe what I had said.

"Look, you'll meet him, and then you'll see what I'm saying. But please, don't make a big deal out of this. He's a good friend of mine, and he's been through a lot." I looked at them pleadingly.

"I see," Dad said hesitatingly. No one said anything else for several moments.

At that point, Jono came into the kitchen, dressed in his usual black leather. ("Morning, Summer.")

("Morning, Jono,") I answered, nodding. I turned to my parents. "Mom, Dad, this is Jonothon. Jonothon, my parents."

They stuck out their hands for a shake and in a very crisp manner he extended his own hand. I could tell they were genuinely freaked by him, and it bothered me because obviously Jono would be picking up on it. I took another gulp of my milk and gave Dad a look over the rim of the glass.

"It's, ah, nice to meet you, Jonothon. So, what were you two planning on doing today? Anything in particular?" Dad said.

I gave Jono a sideways glance and he shrugged a bit. ("I dunno, gel. This is yer town, you tell me.")

"Uhm, I was just planin' on goin' for a drive. Just to think, no place in particular."

"Sounds like fun," Mom agreed. "While you're out, you can pick up my dry cleaning."

"Fine," I agreed. "So, I guess we'll get going," I told them. Mom rustled in a drawer and pulled out the pick up slip. I took it from her then I kissed them goodbye and we went out to the rental car.

We got in and shut the doors. I just sat there a minute, thinking of where to go. To the cemetery. It was enormous and peaceful, we used to go there a lot to feed the ducks when I was little. I turned the key and started the car.

We drove a bit before I spoke. ("Look, I'm sorry about what went on in there. They're still antsy about me, and I'm their daughter,") I told him apologetically.

("Don't worry about it, Summer. You get used to it.") He watched the view out the window a moment, then turned back to me. ("Did you...sleep all right?") he asked me, giving me a strange look. ("I thought I heard you shout last night.")

I bit my lip. ("It was...nothing,") I told him. Why dump all my problems on him when he has enough of his own to deal with?

("All right. But I'm yer friend, Summer. That's why I'm here. If you ever need to talk about it...")

("Thanks, Jono.")

("Yep.")

Our outing remained uneventful. I drove to the cemetery to just sit and think. We went there a lot as a family when I was younger, it wasn't a sad place. The sprawling cemetery was almost park-like with fish ponds and larger ponds scattered about, towering trees and sculpted gardens; ducks swam in the ponds and little children threw in fistfuls of bread crumbs after them. We didn't say a word for the better part of the day, we simply sat on the grass beside a pond and stared into space. I really appreciated him being there. On my own, I was able to come to terms with what had happened between Angelo and I.

We had both been at fault, as is the case with most fights. I didn't listen to him and had immediately jumped to the worst conclusion. Angelo, on the other hand wanted to push my questions aside, pat me on the head and let things slide. In my mind, of course, he was still more in the wrong than I; I was very hurt he still had pictures of his former girlfriend.

I decided that we could fly home tomorrow and I told Jonothon, who only nodded in response. Eventually, we returned to the car and drove home. I forgot the dry-cleaning.

The digital clock in the car read ten after five when we returned home.

"Shades of Gray" 16/? By Me, monet@uky.campus.mci.net and my secret-psychic-sister Krista kjscjs@ix.netcom.com.

A diplomat is someone who can tell you to go to hell and make you feel happy to be on your way.