Chapter 24 – Downpour
She held her laughter. She worried she wouldn't be able to contain herself for the remaining fifteen minutes of the seminar. Every time she so much as glimpsed Peter's face, even peripherally, a crazy giddiness bubbled inside. Simply thinking of him made her giggle. They shared a hilarious secret – something none of the fools surrounding them, sitting like plants before the glare of Professor Steiner, could dream of.
The universe is surreal and absurd.
Jean didn't know if the thought was hers or Wyngarde's; it arose in their minds simultaneously. As the concept broadened within her consciousness, she regained her composure. Her buoyancy settled into a general sense of warmth. She'd made a friend.
Steiner dismissed the class. The other students rushed out of the room.
"Do you have time for lunch?" asked Peter.
"I have an hour."
"There's a place called the Astral Diner on 113th and Broadway that supposedly won't poison us."
"All right."
Jacob Steiner was waiting for the elevator when Jean and Peter approached.
"I didn't mean to threaten you, Professor," she said, as the large brass doors opened.
"Let's start over next week." Steiner's voice was a little unsteady.
No one uttered another word during the descent. The physics professor's discomfort was palpable. As soon as the elevator reached the ground floor, Jacob Steiner briskly departed. Grey knew he couldn't wait to get away. At least Peter accepted her. Maybe her new acquaintance was all she would need…
While they walked towards the quad, she noticed the cottony tuffs that had dotted the sky throughout the morning hours had merged into a thick, leaden mass, which blocked out the sun. The heavy atmosphere threatened rain.
"Listen, Jean, there's someone I'd like you to meet." Peter slowed to a stop.
"Who?" asked Grey.
"My fiancée."
A petite young woman, with an olive green messenger bag hung across her chest, came up to them. Her almond shaped eyes cast a quizzical look.
"Nice to see you, old man. From all the chatter, I thought you'd run off," she remarked, turning from Peter to Jean, "with a certain mutant red head."
Peter stretched his arm around the dark haired girl. "Jean, this is Xi'an, my wife to be."
"Hi, Xi'an. Your old man just rescued me from academic suicide. I'm very pleased to meet you."
"Likewise," Xi'an responded. "In fact, it's an honor. I've been bothering Peter with stories about the X-Men for months."
"The Astral Diner awaits us." Wyngarde was eager to go.
The swollen clouds began to release their burden. Big, sloppy raindrops splatted on their heads.
"We better run in the cafeteria," Xi'an recommended.
"There's no need," said Jean.
Xi'an and Peter realized they were no longer getting wet. Tilting their heads up, they watched dense droplets thump against an invisible barrier. On all sides, transparent walls protected them from sheets of falling water. Ten feet away, students and faculty scurried into nearby buildings or got soaked while struggling to unfurl their umbrellas.
"You're doing this!" Xi'an was practically jumping up and down with excitement.
"It's no big deal."
The three strolled four blocks south to the Astral Diner beneath Grey's telekinetic shield. Peter and Xi'an entered triumphantly, thrilled to walk in from a downpour entirely dry.
"Xi'an and I had breakfast here. It was amazing," Peter mentioned, while the girls moved into a booth with a view of storm swept Broadway. "The food came before we ordered it." He sat down next to Xi'an. "The waitress refilled my coffee even though I hadn't taken a sip. No respect for the laws of causality."
Their plates arrived almost as quickly as Wyngarde had described.
"This is why I came to New York," he exclaimed when a mound of steaming pastrami materialized in front of him.
"I thought you came here because of me." Xi'an knocked him, gently.
"You, and the pastrami…"
"And Professor Jacob Steiner," said Xi'an.
Jean discovered she was hungry. She couldn't tell whether it was the quality of her vegetable soup or the growing comfort she felt with the couple across the table that excited her taste buds.
"How did you two meet?" she asked.
"Oh, I was studying Pre-Christian Gnosticism at Cambridge last semester." Xi'an answered between bites of hamburger.
"And learning how to ride a bicycle," Peter added.
Xi'an pressed partially chewed burger to the side of her mouth with her tongue. "I knew howda ride!"
"Not very well. You were on the wrong side of the street." He looked at Jean. "We sort of collided." While still facing Grey, Wyngarde stealthily reached around his fiancée's shoulders and snatched a clump of her french fries.
"I just forgot…" Xi'an grabbed Peter's full hand of fries, suspending it halfway to his mouth. "Stop it! I was going to eat those! How am I ever going to gain three hundred pounds hanging out with a thief like you?" She turned her attention to Jean, "I'm sorry. I hope you understand we're dining with a ravenous beast over here."
Jean slapped her hand over her mouth as she rocked with laughter. Being with Peter and Xi'an had changed everything. They were so happy together. Watching them made life seem wonderful. Had she and Scott been like that? Maybe there hadn't been time. Too many crises had interrupted their relationship. They'd barely had a single day to relax and simply enjoy each other's company. Was that why Scott wouldn't give up? He just wanted the chance to be in love…
Do l love anyone?
Scott Summers disappeared from Jean's thoughts. The hot soup running down her throat couldn't melt the chills that suddenly riddled her body. She remembered feeling the wind from Angel's beating wings against her skin. "I'm not afraid of you," he whispered.
Warren was here, in the city. Was he waiting for her?
What would happen if the two of them were eating in this diner? Would the other patrons gawk and point? She made a cursory scan of the premises. No one was staring at her; the wait staff and the customers didn't care who she was, or what strange things she could do. Jean smiled, relishing her anonymity. Maybe New Yorkers wouldn't have a problem with two known mutants sharing a meal in a public place.
These people had their own lives to lead. Bits of their conversations and snippets of their inner monologues converged into a low level buzz punctuated by bursts of rain pinging off the windows. Then her senses detected a patch of interference. Someone was purposely blocking her perception. It was a young woman sitting with four fashionable companions in a large circular booth on the other side of the restaurant. Jean recognized the girl's platinum blond hair and stylish appearance from her dreams.
"Who's that?" Grey indicated the group across the room with her eyes.
"The blond? That's Emma Frost. She's quite the rock star on campus. Always in party photos in New York Magazine, hanging out with Candy Southern and a bunch of hideous rich people," answered Xi'an.
"She's a mutant." Jean watched Frost toss her head back in reaction to a comment made by one of the guys at her table.
"How can you tell?" Peter pushed away his nearly cleared plate of pastrami.
"She's blocking my telepathy."
"You mean you're reading our minds, and everyone else's, right now?" Xi'an sounded offended.
"No. I'm not probing people's thoughts. It's like listening with your ears. She's putting up a barrier proactively. It's weird. She's doing or thinking something she doesn't want me to know…"
"She's probably trying to hide her abilities. It's fascinating that it's precisely her attempt to obscure her powers that makes them obvious." Peter observed Miss Frost intently.
"Hey, speaking of New York Magazine, Jean, do you know him?" Xi'an pulled a glossy publication from her messenger bag and laid it on the Formica tabletop.
Warren was on the cover carrying a slender young woman in a flowing blue evening gown. His outstretched wings, lit by spotlights below, held the two of them aloft, several stories above the city streets. They gazed at each other. The headline printed underneath read, "My Date with The Angel: The Night a Mutant Saved My Life…By Candy Southern."
"No…" Jean didn't know she was speaking. The dizziness she'd experienced earlier returned.
"You've never run into him? This 'Angel' guy? But he's a mutant. It says he helped the X-Men take down Apocalypse." Xi'an opened the magazine to the featured article.
"We've met a few times. But I don't really know him."
"He's the heir to the Worthington fortune, and he lives in that beautiful art deco tower on 42nd and Fifth…" Xi'an continued.
Jean quickly ripped a ten dollar bill from her wallet. "I'm very sorry, but I have to leave." Her throat was tight, making it hard to speak.
Peter turned towards the window. "Wow. It really is rotten out there." Water pounded the glass. The cars and traffic signals beyond were reduced to wavy streaks of color.
"Guess you guys will have to find an umbrella somewhere." Jean wasn't going to crack. Not here, in front of all these people, and the blond telepath. She'd hold it in, until she was alone.
Wyngarde looked back at her. "Jean, do you think you could lend me your notes this weekend? For Steiner's last three classes?"
"Sure." Her voice was small. "I'm going upstate tomorrow, but I'll talk to you Sunday." Grey gathered her laptop case and hurried out of the restaurant.