Kitty's plan was to avoid two things that day: Kurt and alcohol. The alcohol was easy enough as long as she stayed away from the bar--Kurt...not so much. She'd never blacked out from alcohol, but for a very brief moment the morning after Wicked's birthday, she wished she had. But then, that might've made things worse. What the hell had gotten into her? Wicked had always teased her about certain frustrations, but Kitty never paid it much attention, and then all of a sudden she's grinding on her friend--her team leader, Kurt, whom she saw everyday, and dammit things had finally gotten better between them. Good job, Pryde. Avoiding Kurt was stupidly hard to do at the mansion, let alone at the wedding, and as she drank her water, Kitty stayed put near the the rooftop ledge. It seemed that Kurt had no problem avoiding her and she was okay with that. Kitty, at the moment, would rather not face her shame, but he was walking toward her (What! No!) and--quick! where could she--
Acting like nothing was wrong wasn't her strong suit. The second Kurt said anything, a hot flush of embarrassment spread across her face, leaving her almost as red as her dress. She knew what he was trying to do and she tried to go with it, smiling sheepishly as she laughed, "Sure, why not." The Kitty who had been boldly assertive toward him before was completely absent now, which left her, the Kitty who was so embarrassed it hurt, to deal with this. Reminding herself to keep on breathing, she walked beside him to the dance floor, not quite ready to look him fully in the eyes yet.