Chapter Two – Things I Wasn't Supposed to Say
"Are you watching?" asked Jessie Crowell, she glanced to Kurt Wagner to make sure that his attention was on what she was doing and nothing else.
"Yes," said Mr. Wagner, he crossed his heart with one large finger, and then folded his arms, shivering in the cold. Jessie didn't seem to be affected at all. Her hand was in the air above her head, and a ball of light began to firm in her palm, tiny threads of electricity dancing from her fingertips as if she were touching a strobe.
"Get ready!" she said, she steadied her stance, and swung the ball of light hard as she could; it hit the snowman twenty feet away with impressive force as if someone much stronger than a seven year old girl had hit it. She felt immensely proud when the whole thing exploded, a shower of snow burst over the area, hitting them both like large hail. Jessie giggled as she covered her face with her arm.
"That...was extraordinary," said Mr. Wagner, whistling, "you blew up the snowman."
"Yep," she giggled.
"Show me," said Mr. Wagner, he came over, "show me how you made the ball of light."
Jessie grinned at him, and she put her bare hand out so he could see, curling her fingers slightly over her palm. It was a fast process – the ball of electricity seemed to form much in the way a snowball did. It rolled around in her palm, tiny, charges dangling from her fingers, until it was the size of a baseball, and almost looked solid, other than the fact there were sparks and charges dancing from it, and the hum of raw electricity in the air.
"That's amazing," said Mr. Wagner, obviously impressed. "You have a gift."
"It's not a gift," Jessie said, with the roll of her eyes that only a seven year old could master, "just powers..." she tossed the ball of electricity into the ground a few feet away and it exploded upon impact, sending a shower of powdery snow over herself and Mr. Wagner. She laughed as she looked up, holding her bare hands out to catch the snow, and she tried to catch the flakes on her tongue.
"It's almost like Gambit," said Mr. Wagner thoughtfully, "He does something quite similar with his powers."
"I've never seen him use his powers before," Jessie admitted, she shook the snow off of the new hat Mr. Wagner had bought her yesterday in the city over the water.
"Are you guys ready?" came the voice of Rogue who was approaching from the research centre, she looked exhausted, pale, and almost deathlike. The lack of sleep had taken it's toll on her, and her appearance worried Jessie terribly.
"Do we have to go?" Jessie asked with a sigh.
"Yeah," said Rogue. "Remy's going to be healing for a little while yet...and you have school tomorrow."
"Where's Dr. McCoy?" Jessie asked, looking around.
"He's staying...for the moment," Rogue said. "I'll be piloting us home. Kurt is gonna come with us," Rogue said before wandering off towards the Blackbird.
Jessie smiled up at Mr. Wagner, she'd grown to like him very much in this past day, and she was glad he would be coming back to the mansion with them. "Are you coming back for good."
"Not really. Just to visit," said Mr. Wagner, he brushed the snow from Jessie's shoulder.
"To see Miss Pryde."
He inclined his head to look at her strangely. "What makes you say that?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
Jessie wasn't sure what had made her say it in all honesty; it had just come into her head randomly like someone else had put it in there. The thought of Miss Pryde had been there in his words, even if her name had not been. "I dunno..." she admitted.
She could tell it bothered him that she had brought it up, although she wasn't sure why at first, then as she looked in his eyes as he tried to look away and pretend to be very casual and nonchalant about the whole thing she saw emotion that she'd never seen before. It was a look she'd seen Mr. LeBeau reserve for Rogue and only Rogue. Suddenly she understood.
"You like Miss Pryde," Jessie said, her mouth fell into the shape of an 'o'.
"Of course I like her, I like everyone," Mr. Wagner quickly tried to cover, his face suddenly quite unreadable.
"No, but you like her, like like her like her," Jessie stated quite matter-of-factly. "Like Mr. LeBeau likes Rogue...or Mr. Summers likes Miss Grey..."
"It's more complicated than that, little one," said Mr. Wagner, "now come on, we are freezing to death out here, and we have a very long journey ahead of us."
"Why is it more complicated?" Jessie asked as he took her hand and began to lead her towards the blackbird.
"Because not everything is as easy as just saying you like someone, Jessie."
Jessie wasn't sure why it couldn't be simple; to her, if someone liked or indeed loved someone, then surely it should have just been a case of saying so? Wasn't that the case with Mr. LeBeau and Rogue after all? Hadn't he just said he loved her and shown her he loved her and then they were together?
No, I guess it isn't as easy as that, thought Jessie as they approached the Blackbird together; she climbed the steps up inside; the air felt as cold inside as it did out. Jessie had noted that even though Rogue and Mr. LeBeau had been together, there had been...awkwardness, and strain. She didn't know what those things meant in terms of their relationship or what had caused it, but she did know that she had seen it in the way they acted around each other, the way they talked to each other. Mr. LeBeau and Rogue weren't like Miss Grey and Mr. Summers, who had a very simple relationship that seemed to be as readable as a piece of paper on a table – providing you knew how to read of course.
Miss Grey and Mr. Summers are different to Mr. LeBeau and Rogue, thought Jessie as she was being belted securely into a seat. She thought about the differences between the two couples. Miss Grey and Mr. Summers were comfortable around each other, they shared a bedroom and often went places together. When sitting side-by-side at the dinner table, Jessie would often notice them smile at each other and touch hands tenderly even briefly – they would share bites of their food and Mr. Summers would always pour Miss Grey's drink for her; he would even fix her coffee in the morning while she would make his toast. In the rec room in front of the television, they would hold hands, or cuddle, content with each other's company.
Rogue and Mr. LeBeau aren't like that though, Jessie thought. Their relationship was different; it was hanging around on porches while he smoked those foul smelling cigarettes that it seemed he couldn't be without. It was separate bedrooms, separate bathrooms and separate lives. They didn't cuddle in front of the television. Rogue didn't make Mr. LeBeau's toast and he didn't make her coffee. To Jessie, she felt this might be the epitome of a complicated relationship – they were together...just not...together.
Was this what Mr. Wagner meant? Was that how complicated it would be? Or was it something more? Was it just the simple fact that Miss Pryde simply couldn't like Mr. Wagner back. Jessie craned her neck to see around the chair in front; Mr. Wagner was in the co-pilots seat, even though she couldn't see his face, she could feel somehow that he was bothered by something – had it been what she had said to him?
I shouldn't have said it, Jessie thought dully as she played with the tassels of her new scarf with her tiny cold fingers. Now he's sad and it's my fault. Maybe that's why Mr. LeBeau is sad all the time too...maybe it's because of me...because I always say things I wasn't supposed to say...