Marie
The wind whipped my hair back as we sped down the empty road on Mr. Summer s borrowed motorcycle. My arms circled Logan from behind in a way that at first had made my heart pound audibly. Six hours later with no rest in sight my fingers were numb and all I wanted was warmth and sleep.
We had left the mansion in a cloud of excitement, both dying to escape. After fighting our way through New York traffic we had finally entered the open roads of Pennsylvania. At first I enjoyed the chance to hold close to Logan and enjoy the scenery. I especially loved the sunset, which we had a perfect view of since we traveled west the entire time. The orange and pink of the sky reflected off the snow banks along the side of the road so that the brilliant colors were only separated by the black lace of the barren trees. But then all color faded, even the sounds of the nearby highway, I-76, quieted with the coming of night. And with nothing to distract myself, my exhaustion mounted. Motorcycling was hardly conducive to conversation!
So when Logan slowed as we entered the town of Everett I was surprised but very relieved. The main area of the town looked to cover about two city blocks and had the feel of an area that was often a colorful blur passing by a car window rather than a destination. As if to prove my point, signs in shop windows boasted, Everett- The Little Town that Can! It didn t seem like a destination Logan would choose, but he turned off the main road and pulled into the parking lot of Linda s Lunchbox as if he had done it a hundred times. I stumbled getting off the bike because my legs were numb but Logan didn't notice.
Together we walked into the delicious warmth of the restaurant. And by delicious I mean you could taste the food without ever taking a bite. A grey-bearded man sitting alone in the booth facing the door never looked up as the bell tinkled loudly to announce our entrance; his food had his complete attention. Across the room, a heavy set woman with three children smiled at her middle-aged waitress and teased, "Linda, it's so good it's magic. Didn't anyone ever tell you magic isn't real."
The waitress turned and smiled, "Wolverine!"
"Linda," he returned, grinning. I tried to see past the jealousy that clouded my vision. And although I told myself to stop, I searched her up and down to mark any flaws. There were few. Her chunkier figure was nevertheless curved in all the right places. Her skin was still smooth and her green eyes sparkled with contained energy. I wilted. She did not.
"Come on into the kitchen while I fix you up something to eat," she urged, "Unless you want to have a more formal dinner with your girl." She nodded towards me and I brightened up. If she thought I was his girl, then she couldn't be.
"Naw," Logan answered, not even introducing me. Linda held open the door to the kitchen and I forgot to be angry at Logan because of the aroma that overwhelmed me. And I had thought the restaurant smelled good!
"So, honey, I gave Logan the chance to tell me. Now I'll ask for myself. What's your name?"
"Rogue," I answered, forgetting that it might be better to have a normal name outside of the school.
"One of us then," she murmured, seeming mournful for a moment. Then she cheered up, "Well, then I don't have to pretend to be normal." She flew into action all over the kitchen- all six of her. She was a mutant. "Are you here about the newest news?" Linda asked, a sheen of tears in all of her eyes.
"No," Logan answered in surprise, "What news?"