So, there we were, after the food, walkin' down some nameless street in complete silence. She hadn't said a word fer a while, and I'd be damned if I'd break her train of thought.
"Hold on a minute, Logan. I'll be right back," she disappeared into the little store we had just passed and left me high and dry on the curb. I stuffed two hands in my pockets and waited. She emerged carryin' a little plastic bag.
"Whaddya get?"
"Just some essentials," she answered, reachin' into the bag. "And this!"
"A square of plastic?"
"It's a disposable camera, genius. Everyone knows you're supposed to take a million pictures when you take a trip."
"This ain't exactly a leisure holiday, Red," I muttered as she quickly pulled off a plastic tab and pointed the thing at me. "Don't you fuckin' dare."
"I'd never guess you were camera shy," she teased under her breath, pausing to snap a few of skyscraper we walkin' past.
"Geez, Red, you look like a tourist."
"Oh, who cares? Half these people probably are, too."
"And you're wastin' yer pictures, besides."
"What do you suggest I photograph then?"
"Well," I glanced around to see if I could spot anything. "That park maybe."
So up went the camera, and off went the little clicks that snapped whenever she took a picture. I shook my head.
"No, no," I grabbed the tiny thing from her easy. "You've got to capture the beauty in nature." I realized I set myself up for a perfect opportunity. "Go stand by that rock."
"Wha- me?"
"Sure. You're beauty. And look -nature's all around." Funny, it didn't sound corny and prickish in my head.
She obeyed, while blushing, I'm pretty sure. It took me a couple minutes and three failed tries before I figured out how to make it snap.
"You'd better hurry, the light's fading." I looked up to her to bark out some mean snap, but stopped.
"Hold it, right there." I clicked the button and heard the satisfyin' snap. "Perfect."
She climbed down and took the camera back, our hands brushing as she did. She paused a second longer than she should have before speakin'.
"We should really get back to the hotel."
I nodded.
"Want to get a drink, Logan?"
There's so much a guy can get from that question, especially when it's from a woman you've just spent the past two days with. Yep, the promises a drink holds...whole lotta fates are sealed by those five little words.
Want to get a drink, Logan?
But I looked at her, standing just outside the hotel bar, with her green eyes so tired that I knew she meant nothin' by it. Just thirsty, was all.
"Sure Red, " I nodded, figuring that even a lousy excuse for a hotel bar would do the trick. And sure enough, it was crowded strictly with business types, and other general idiots I try to avoid. And now I'm drinkin' with 'em.
Jeannie ordered and found us a table, brushing aside a newspaper someone had left behind. I took both our drinks over.
"Thanks," she murmured as I set them down on the table.
"Here, I got ya a straw," I passed it to her and she smiled.
"How did you guess?"
"Dunno. Figured you weren't one fer bars, is all." Finally, a smokin' section. I lifted a cigar to make sure she was okay with me lightin' up, and she motioned for me to go ahead.
"You were right. The last time I was in a bar was..." she trailed off, with that kind of voice saved for the bad things. "Well, let's just say it was a long time ago."
"Understood," I replied, shaking ashes onto the table. "So."
"So?" She tucked a think strand of hair behind her ears. "How's life?"
"Same, can't complain."
"You don't complain at all, Logan." She seemed like she would have laughed if I hadn't looked at her with such interest.. "I didn't realize it till just then. You don't complain if you can help it."
"Correction, Red," I shook my head. "I don't complain to you. Don't mean I keep it up locked up."
"Who, then?"
"Whoever'll listen."
"Fair enough." She stirred her straw absentmindedly, making the icecubes tinkle against each other. Nice sound. "But I'd listen."
"Sure, you would. You're a woman."
"Excuse me? What does that have to do with anything?"
"Women like to listen to all your problems, then solve 'em, and congratulate themselves on being clever and sensitive to everybody's needs. And stuff."
"That's not true. You just set back feminism fifty years." I loved the way her hair curled around her shoulders as she glared at me. "Besides, what's wrong with solving problems?"
"Some things are better left untouched, you know that."
"What things would that be, specifically?"
"What, you want an example or somethin'?" She nodded. "Shit, I don't know."
"No, I agree with you, don't worry."
"Then why did you give me a hard time?"
"Conversation's sake," she purred, raising her straw to her mouth. I swear, she knew what she did to me sometimes. "How was your day?"
"Fine."
"I had a good day," she decided, her eyes wandering around the room. "I think this drink is starting to get to me."
"You're fine," I assured her, considerin' it was just one margarita with a straw. "Want another one?" She nodded briskly. She downed the second a lot faster, and without a straw. Meanwhile, I'm still on my first.
"Slow down, tiger," I said, easing the glass away from her hands. "Won't look too great if I bring ya home with a hangover."
"I don't want to go home tomorrow, damn it." She stated firmly, sliding her drink back to her side of the small table.
Fantastic. I shoulda known someone as small as Jeannie couldn't handle her drinks. "Maybe we should get you to bed."
"I'm not that kind of girl, Logan," she told me a matter of factly. I sat back down, noticing my beer was finally runnin' low. But I wasn't in the mood to stand up again. "Penny for your thoughts."
"Don't waste your money." I gulped down the remaining slosh at the bottom of the mug. My favourite part.
"But really, what do you think about, Logan? I never can tell."
"So look."
"I'd never do that, and you know it, " she mumbled.
"Well, Red, I'm givin' you permission. Are ya scared?"
"Of course I am. God only knows what you think about all day." She swept her hair off her face. "At least you'd have to give me a filtered version if I asked."
I decided to answer. "I think about...all sorts of stuff. About the past, about hockey, about...you know, stuff." Maybe not the way I meant it to come out.
"How eloquent of you. Stuff." She chuckled lightly (not mocking me, more like to fill the quiet).
"What about you, Miss Wanna Know It all? What runs though your mind all day?"
She opened her mouth to say something, but paused in the position for a few seconds. "Just how I wish I could grow up. How we could all grow up."
"Wanna run that one by me again?"
Jean tossed her head from side to side from sliding closer to me. "Don't you ever feel like it's time to move on from all this?"
"All what? Drinkin'?"
"No," she bit her lip. "The superhero gig." She saw the look in my eyes. "I mean, come on Logan, we're adults. Grown up. How much longer do you really see yourself saving the world from evil masterminds?"
I shrugged. "Long as it takes?"
She threw up her hands. "See, that's the problem with you people. You're not thinking about the future." She took a tiny sip from her glass. "Scott never sees it my way. All he sees is the grand vision, the glorious dream. The magical future that always seems to be just out of reach."
I chuckled. "What future is that?"
"The one Charles always wanted. A peaceful existence between man and mutant. I can practically see it forming in Scott's head sometimes. He thinks about it constantly. Both of them, they really believe."
"You don't?" I tried hidin' the surprise in my voice.
"I admire their courage. Their blind hope. But not me, not anymore." She shifted in her seat. "I don't feel like I belong there anymore. Everyone has their little slot. Their own niche. But me, I'm nothing. I'm the one who was thrown into the middle of this whole thing too soon and can't summon the courage to get out."
"Don't talk like that, Red."
"No, really, I mean it. I was so young when all this started. So young...I can't even write my parents anymore. After all, what would I say? 'Hey Mom, Dad, just back from the Cosmos, did you forward my mail like I asked?' It's impossible, because they'd never understand."
"Do they know anything? About how you live?"
"How I live? Not much. Just whatever I can fit into a ten-minute conversation over the phone. And even then I have to leave out the blood and guts."
"In other words, the fun stuff."
"Says the man with the healing factor." She pushed the glass aside. "I don't know, maybe I've tried too much to distance them from my life now. They're family, an entirely different world practically. If I manage to keep them separate, I can be two people. And they can both live at the same time." She looked at me as if she was expecting me to tell her she was crazy.
"Okay," was the best I could come up with.
"God, listen to me, babbling on and on. I'm sorry, I must be boring you." She reached for her purse.
"No, no," I insisted, grabbing her wrist. "I like hearing you talk. I mean, how often do we just get to sit and talk, just me an' you?" She slowly sat back down.
"Rarely. But this talk seems fairly one sided, " she reasoned.
"Fair enough. What do you want me-"
"I want to know what you think about." Damn it, she was even using that voice! Damn her!
"I told you."
"Stuff doesn't count, Logan."
I took a deep breath of the air around me, which was stale and sticky in my throat. Most of the idiots have left over the time we'd been here. Probably past their bedtimes. " I think about...never growin' up." Jean raised an eyebrow, but kept her mouth shut. "I like things how they are. Being a superhero. Saving the world. It's...fun." I noticed the dark look in her eyes and offered, "But you're wrong, Jeannie. You ain't the only one who don't belong."
"Then we're an odd pair the, huh? Just a couple of misfits."
"You're not a bad lookin' misfit, either way," I chuckled.
"Then you really think so? We're...two of a kind?"
"Sure, Jeannie. Kindred souls, whatever."
"Why do think that?"
"I just do. Why does everything need a reason?"
"Then it makes more sense. What's life without a little sense and order?"
"Gee, I don't know, mine?" I replied. "Look Red, I'm not big on spillin' guts, unless they're somebody else's. I don't like talkin' much about me, or my feelings, or my fuckin' favourite colour."
"Is it red?"
"What?"
"Your favourite colour. Just a guess."
"No, it's not," I growled. "Blue."
"Odd. You never struck me as a blue person. More...red. Possibly black."
"How the fuck does it matter anyway?"
"Okay, here's one for you. What does everything have to matter?"
"Because it should."
"Why can't there be stupid, idle chats about favourite colours and the weather?"
"It wastes time."
"Don't be an idiot." She leaned in closer. "People need to be idiotic."
"Yeah, well, people are idiots anyway. Even without the stupid things."
"I hate you. You're a terrible person, you know that?" She threw her head back in frustration. "How can you live like that?"
"We ain't all little rays of sunshine and bliss like yerself, Jeannie," I mused as I thumbed the rim of my empty mug.
"Excuse me for smiling once a century."
"Smilin' is overrated."
"So is pissing and moaning about nothing at all." I had to fight back laughin', 'cause she looked so flamin' proud and noble sittin' across from me with that angry look on her face.
"Are you still drunk?"
"No." She was lying.
"Alright then, I think it's time for bed."
"I reluctantly agree." She spat at me, streaming into the lobby faster than I could keep up. I had to jump into the elevator. She slumped against me almost right away.
"I really shouldn't have stood up so fast, Logan," she wheezed, clutchin' my shirt. "I feel dizzy."
"Just hang onto me," I told her, prayin' she wasn't TOO sick. She obeyed, wrapping her arms around my waist for balance. Then I looked down at her, just as she glanced up.
Then we were kissing.
I know, I know, you saw it comin' a mile away, right? Well, believe it or not, I didn't.
The floor appeared and we stumbled off, still connected at the mouth. Somehow, we managed to open the door and fall inside, still latched on to each other. She shrugged off her flimsy jacket, and coiled her arms around my neck, with me lovin' it the whole time.
Suddenly it occurred to me. What was gonna happen in the morning?
Like always, I knew what I didn't wanna know, the truth. This girl, this woman, I loved so much, wasn't mine. And if I let myself go, I'd wake up tomorrow and realize that in a big way. Realize that I'd never be one she was gonna pick. The runner up. The fuckin' loser.
This all came to me in a second. A quick, painful thought. I pushed her away.
"No, Jeannie." I stepped back a couple feet. "No, it's not right."
"What?" She stood there in front of me, hair a mess and half naked, and so very beautiful. And with a look on her face that I'd never seen before. "What?"
"You're drunk," I shook my head. "I ain't gonna take advantage of that."
"Shut up, I know exactly what I'm doing," she insisted, steppin' toward me again. I held her back.
"Go to sleep, Jean. Trust me, just go to sleep."
She slowly got it I was wasn't kiddin'. "I'm a big girl, I know what I'm doing."
"It's wrong..."
"Damn it, I'm tired of always doing the right thing for the right reasons! I want to be wrong!"
"For the wrong reasons."
"Does there always have to be a reason?" She half smiled at me, then rocked back on her heel.
"And what makes you think I'd steal somebody else's-"
She put a finger to my mouth. "You can't steal what's yours, you stupid ape."
"Shut up before you get yerself in trouble, Red," I took her hand off my face and placed it by her side. "Before I start believin' ya."
"I'm not so drunk."
"Yeah, you are. And hell, who knows, maybe if I was a little more the same I'd quit over thinkin'. But-"
"I know, I know." She slumped onto the bed. "God, do I ever know."
"I'm gonna leave, okay?"
"Right."
"You'll be okay?"
"Logan, I'm not that completely devastated." Could hear the laugh in her voice. "Just one thing."
"Name it."
She stretched out on the bed, placed her head in her hands. "Lie to me."
"Well," I began. "Tomorrow mornin', when you wake up, nothin' will be wrong. Everything's gonna make perfect sense, like you don't really feel like yer pulled in five directions. And I can wake up right next to ya, cause that won't be wrong either." I opened the door. "How was that?"
"You forgot the best part."
"What? Oh, right. And we all grow up and live happily ever after."
"Thank you." I closed the door behind me.
When we got back to the house, everything was exactly the same. Jean went to him, and he never suspected a thing. Even choked out a 'thanks' for takin' such good care of her. I really wanted to laugh at that, but I just nodded and handed him a suitcase.
That night I sat down to write a letter. I went through three drafts, finally coughin' it out some time before three. I scribbled Jean's name on the front and sealed it, not really carin' what she'd think or say. It didn't really matter. Because not everything had to matter.
I'd wait till the pictures got developed. To give her the letter. Unless I changed my mind.
And now I'm still sittin' here holding the same thing I wrote to her. Two years ago. I want to rip it to shreds, slice it in two, burn it to crisps. Why I can't I don't know.
I remember how she looked when I first saw her, out in some garden that I wouldn't be able to point out if I tried. She was perfect in ways I'd never consider; the way she held herself, the way she laughed; the way she smiled. I adored her.
Years passed.
I learned that no, my Jeannie wasn't so perfect. She wasn't the immortal beloved I made her out to be. 'Course, I had to figure out this the hard way, because sometimes love can blind a guy. But nope, she wasn't perfect.
On the outside, sure. Never seen anyone prettier or better dressed or more lady-like. Perfect manner, a woman who always know the right thing to say and when to say it.
But inside, she's this...torrent of everything; pain, desire, anger, desperation. She's dyin' to get out, I know it, I feel it. She just wants, I think, to give it.
And I'm ramblin' again.
Why? How does she do this to me?
Fuck, I wish I knew. I really wish I knew.
Yet another author's note: I have one more chapter planned for this and I'm guessing that'll be the end to this little tale of woe. Go ahead, tell me if I'm crazy.