"Bebop, Gundam, or Fushigi?"
Brenda stared at Evan as if he were speaking another language. "Pardon?"
The boy held three tape boxes in his hands. "Bebop," he said, holding up the first, "Gundam," the second, "or Fushigi?"
"I've never heard of any of them," Brenda was forced to admit.
Evan looked at her like she'd just sprouted a second head. "You've never heard of them?"
"We don't—didn't—have a telly."
"How can anyone not have a TV? I can understand no cable, but no TV at all?" He shook his head. "Even Fred Flintstone had a TV!"
"He didn't live in a convent, did he?"
"Uh . . . no." Evan shuffled the tape boxes around, trying to decide. "You've never seen any anime?"
"Annie Mae who?"
"No, not Annie Mae—anime. You know, Japanese animation. Big eyes, giant fighting robots, that kind of thing. You kind of have to see it to believe it. It's really amazing!"
"Is it?" Brenda was intrigued. "Where should I start, then?"
"Probably Fushigi. It's like a fairy tale—sword fights, star-crossed lovers, a kingdom in danger, magic, revenge, the whole works. You gotta watch it from the beginning, though, or it won't make sense."
"All right, then. Fushigi it is. What an odd name."
A few rows back, Toad was picking out a movie when he heard a familiar voice. He peeped over the top of the rack, but couldn't see her. Then she came around into the aisle . . .
. . . and the two nearly ran into each other.
"Excuse me," she said, and then noticed that he looked familiar. More than familiar—she'd practically spent the whole day with him. "Todd?"
"Uh . . . hi."
"What are you doing here?"
"Just getting a movie," he said defensively. "Not spying on you and your friends at all." He grabbed a box off the shelf. "Here's a good one. Sailor Moon."
"It's pink," she pointed out.
"It is?" He looked down at it. "Is that a bad thing?"
"I'm not sure," Brenda admitted. "I'm new at this. But pink is usually for
girls, I do know that. Are you having company?"
"Uh . . . no, just us . . . just us guys." Toad started to blush at what he was thinking at that moment. "We . . . uh . . . I'll just get this one." He put the Sailor Moon tape back and picked up one that looked like it had migrated over from the adult section.
Brenda gasped at the picture on the front, of a half-nude woman growing out of a rosebush.
"Okay, not that one either." He shoved it back. "You know what, I think I'll look around some more." With that, he turned around and sheepishly walked toward the kiddie section.
Weird, Brenda thought as she watched him go.
When she got back to the school and hung her jacket up in her closet, she saw the blue robe again and wondered where it had come from. It couldn't belong to any of her fellow students; it was much too small. And it wasn't Professor Xavier's, either.
She had already asked him about it, and he said it had been there ever since he could remember. "But of course," he said, "I only came back from England seven years ago. The house was open to other family members, and one of them might have left the robe behind. I'll see if I can get hold of them and ask." After two days, he still hadn't had any luck.
She was thinking about the robe when Kitty interrupted her thoughts. "Brenda, are you busy?"
"Not particularly. What's up?"
"Would you like to see the Danger Room now? You still haven't, like, picked a code name or gotten a costume or anything," Kitty said.
"I'm still finding my way around this place, actually. I don't even have a key yet."
"We'll get you one later. Right now we have a session. You'll be working with Scott this time."
"I didn't know he was up for it."
"He says he is. He's been warming up for like an hour already. He said something about testing new equipment today."
"I hope he doesn't push himself too hard before he's ready," Brenda said.
"That makes two of us. He's, like, such a pain in the butt when he's sick!" Kitty sighed. "But then, aren't all guys?"
Brenda couldn't picture Scott being a pain in the butt. "I wouldn't know about that. I lived at a place where no men were allowed."
Kitty blinked. "No men at all?"
"Well, there was the handyman . . . a seventy-year-old grandfather who talked about his Army days. And the ones in town, of course, but no one I really saw on a regular basis . . ."
"That is so weird," Kitty said. She tossed the other girl a pair of pink sweats. "Here, put these on till we get you a regular costume."
"Are these yours?" Brenda asked.
"You can get them back to me whenever. I'll wait for you outside."
Okay, Brenda thought to herself. I wonder what this Danger Room is like?
Twenty minutes later, she was wishing she'd never asked.
The toughest Marine couldn't have handled this place, never mind someone who'd never had any experience in self-defense. She was praying that this torture would end soon, before what was left of her mind shut down from sheer exhaustion.
"Ready to go again?" Logan asked.
She gave him an incredulous look.
"You did pretty well for a first-timer. But we need to work on your reflexes. We'll begin with a Level 5 hand-to hand sim, just you and me."
"Level 5?" she gasped.
"Don't worry, I'll take you through it nice and easy," Logan told her. "The rest of you kids can go up to the observation room with Rogue." Rogue hadn't felt quite up to suiting up yet, but Xavier had recommended that she sit in on the session anyway, just to get a better grasp of what the new girl could do.
For the next hour Brenda and Logan worked on Brenda's reflexes, trying to help her learn to use her power in connection with her other senses. Towards the end of the session, she was starting to feel she was getting it. Though she still had a lot of work to do, she was coming along very well indeed.
"We'll do an hour together twice a week," Logan told her, "until you're up to speed with the rest of the class."
"How long will that take?"
"Three, maybe four weeks. Less if you practice on your own. Think you can handle that?"
Brenda hesitated only a second before she answered, "Sure I can!"
Toad paced up and down his room even though he desperately needed to sleep. He wasn't sure what was bothering him, but he did know that this Brenda was an incredible girl, and that he needed to be with her no matter what.
Wait . . . that made him sound like some kind of crazy stalker. He didn't want to scare her. The trick was to make her like him without sounding like a total jerk.
He thought she might like him already—she seemed to, this afternoon at school. Maybe there was hope after all . . . but he had to know!
"What are you doing?"
Todd jumped to his feet as if he'd been scalded. He turned and saw Fred standing behind him, staring at him as if he'd grown an extra head or something.
"Just thinking! You got a problem with that?"
"Do you have to stomp all over the house to think?"
Todd couldn't think of any retort other than "Shut up!"
"Will you both go to sleep?" an indignant voice whispered from the other side of the room. "You're driving me up the wall!"
"I'm goin' out," Todd said.
"It's after midnight!"
"So?"
"What are you doing in my bathroom?" Blob demanded.
"It's my bathroom too, you know!" Lance said. "You guys just keep the noise down, all right? Some people are trying to sleep!"
"Well, I'm going out," Todd said, "so don't worry about me." He stormed out of the room, past Blob, and out of the house.
Once outside . . . he didn't know where to go.
Great. My big dramatic exit, and now I don't know what to
do next.
A thought occurred to him. Maybe he could go and see Brenda! She might still be up.
But it was so far away! At least eight or ten blocks! How was he going to get there on his own?
Steal a car? No, he might get caught. Besides, Mystique would hear him and come after him. Or send someone else after him.
He was crossing the lawn of the house next door when he saw it. The kid who lived there—Joey or Jimmy or Jerry or something—had left his scooter on the lawn again.
Perfect.
Todd hopped on, and zoomed off into the night. Don't
worry, Johnny . . . Jackie . . . whatever your name is! I'll bring it back! I
just have to see this girl!
Before he was off the block, it started to rain.
Dripping wet, and starting to sneeze, he finally reached the mansion where Brenda lived. He'd ditched the scooter a few blocks back, after he'd fallen off it three times because he couldn't get any traction on the wet pavement. It wasn't just raining; it was pouring. Buckets.
But he was here. At last. At her house. Now if he could just find a way in—
Front door. No good. They probably had all sorts of alarms. Same with the back door.
He looked around for any open windows he could use to climb inside. I wonder which one's hers?
Couldn't hurt to try, could it?
He picked up a handful of gravel off the ground and tossed it up at the window.
It missed by a mile.
Okay. Try again, harder.
This time, a few pieces hit the window and bounced off with
a bonk!
He waited. When no one came, he tried again.
BONK!
The curtains fluttered.
Yes! Yes!
The window went up—
YES!
"Who's there?" Rogue called down.
Aw, crud! He sneezed again. That's not her! Should I try another window?
"Toad, is that you?"
He looked up at her. She almost looked pretty without that God-awful makeup.
"Uh," he called nervously, "is Brenda home?"
"I cannot believe you would do something so foolish!"
Rogue had let him in, and she and Brenda were toweling him off while Kitty stood guard in case anyone came in the room.
"I thought you'd be glad I came to—aaaah chooooo!—see you!"
Brenda stood over him, shaking her head. "You have to get out of those wet clothes."
Todd looked up at her in alarm.
"Not here! In the bathroom! I'll find something for you to wear."
"Okay." He went into the bathroom, and Rogue glared at Brenda.
"What're we gonna do with him?"
"I don't know! But he can't go out in the rain again!"
"Maybe it'll, like, stop soon," Kitty said.
"Doubt it," said Rogue. "It's supposed to keep up till tomorrow morning."
"Technically, it is tomorrow morning," Brenda pointed out. She was trying to find something for Todd to wear that didn't look too girly. Then she thought of the perfect thing. "Wait here, I'll be right back," she said.
She went to her room and dug through her drawers until she found Nick's old football jersey. It might be a little big, but he could sleep in it. And tomorrow his clothes would be dry, and he could go home.
She knocked on the closed bathroom door. "Todd?" she called softly. "Are you in there?"
"Yeah."
"Can you open the door? I found something for you to wear."
"I'm kinda undressed at the moment."
"Just open the door a crack, and I'll slip it through."
The door opened just enough for her to see a small sliver of light. She passed the jersey through the crack. Then the door closed.
"You can put your clothes in the laundry chute in the hall," she said. "I'll make sure they're dry for you tomorrow."
The door burst open. "Tomorrow?"
"Well, you can't go out in the rain again, and there's no one to drive you."
"I could call a cab."
"Do you have any money?"
"Uh . . ." There was a jingling sound. "Forty-seven cents?"
"That won't get you very far."
"Look, I can't stay here! I have to get home before—" He sneezed three times in a row, then wiped his nose with a piece of toilet paper.
"We need to get you warm and dry," Brenda said, taking him back to her room. "You can sleep in here tonight. I'll wake you tomorrow and we'll have someone take you home then."
Todd looked around. "In your room?"
"You don't mind the floor, do you?" She went to the hall closet and got a few blankets and a pillow.
"Uh . . . no. No, I don't mind." A horrible thought occurred to him. "What if someone finds me in here?"
"No one will find you. The bed checks have already been done an hour ago. As long as we don't make a lot of noise, no one will come. Here." She wrapped a blanket around him, then started making up a bed for him on the floor.
Todd picked up a book that was on the bedside table. "The Fifth Elephant? What's that?"
"Oh. It's . . . Pratchett."
"What's a Pratchett?"
"It's not what, it's who. Terry Pratchett. He wrote a series of books set in a place called Discworld."
"Sounds weird." He flipped through it. "What's it about?"
Brenda shook her head. "They're hard to explain. You'd have to read it to understand."
"You got a lot of these?"
"Pretty much all of them," she nodded. "There's supposed to be a new one coming out soon, I think. Here, if you're going to read them, begin at the beginning." She went to her shelf and found The Colour of Magic.
Todd took it from her and read the back cover. "Wizards? Like Harry Potter?"
"Sort of. You've read Harry Potter?"
"Just the first book so far. I liked it a lot."
"I'm glad. You'll like this one, too." She smoothed out the makeshift bed she had made. "There you go. Off to sleep with you."
"Do I have to?"
"Yes, before someone sees the light on and comes to find out why." She helped him down onto the floor and pulled the top blanket over him. "Good night."
"Night."
Brenda climbed into her own bed and turned out the light. It had been a very long day—and a strange one at that.
After a few minutes, she noticed an odd sound coming from the floor. "Todd," she called in a stage whisper, "are you all right?"
Todd just snored in her ear.
She nudged him with her foot.
'What? Huh?" he said, looking up at her.
"You were snoring."
"No way! I don't snore! Maybe it's this stupid . . . " He fell asleep and began snoring again.
Brenda kicked him again.
"Ow!"
"Stop it! Someone will hear you!"
"Me? You're the one kicking me in the side!"
"Because you won't stop snoring!"
"I am not!" Todd insisted.
There was a sound from the other side of the door, like a footstep. They looked at each other, then at the door, but it never opened.
"Just go to sleep," Brenda whispered.
"I can't! You keep kicking me!"
"Because you're snoring!"
"I don't snore!"
"You do—" This was getting them nowhere. She went and got the box of tissues, and handed it to him.
"Thanks." He blew his nose, then dropped the used tissue on the floor.
Brenda wrinkled her nose. "Must you be so uncouth?" Holding the wad of used tissue between two outstretched fingers, she threw it in the waste basket.
"Sorry. I'm too tired to go all the way over there."
"I guess it is rather late. All right, then, go to—"
He was already asleep before she could finish the sentence. Fortunately, he wasn't snoring anymore.
She went back to sleep herself, and slept soundly till morning. (Well, later morning, anyway.)
Brenda had never needed an alarm clock to wake her up. This was owing to a lifetime of bells going off at 5:30, for morning prayers. Even though she had been up at one in the morning dealing with their unexpected visitor—
Oh dear. How am I going to get him out?
There was a tap on the door. "Brenda?" It was Rogue.
Brenda opened the door. "What are you doing up so early?"
"Arranging Lover-boy's ride home," she said, nodding toward the heap of blankets on the floor. He'd started snoring again sometime during the night. "Lance is gonna pick him up at the end of the street in 20 minutes. His clothes done yet?"
"They should be. You wake him up while I go check."
"Nah, I'll go get them. There any more of that tea of yours?"
"I think so."
When she was gone, Brenda poked gently at the blankets. It's just me, she sent. Don't scream or yell or anything. I need you to wake up now, Toddy.
The pile stirred. Todd's head poked out one end. "Whuh timezit?"
"Almost six. Your ride will be at the end of the street in twenty minutes. Rogue's getting your clothes."
"Oh . . . okay." He shrugged the blankets off, stood up, and stretched. The jersey pulled up enough for Brenda to see a pretty impressive set of abs. Who knew he was so . . . built?
"Whatcha staring at?"
"Oh . . . nothing."
Rogue came in with the clothes. "All done. I put the kettle on, too. For the tea."
"Uh . . ." Todd said. "Should I go in the bathroom?"
"No!" Brenda almost screamed. "Someone might find you! We'll just turn our backs for a moment."
"Sure, but no peeking."
"Like we'd want to look at your scrawny body," Rogue drawled.
The girls turned around, folding up the blankets and putting them in a neat pile. Then Todd said, "All done."
"Good," said Rogue. "Now let's get you outta here. I think we should use the back door—"
"Nah." Todd shook his head. "I'll go out the way I came."
He went to the window, which had been shut again to keep the rain out, and lifted it up.
"But you can't!" said Brenda. "It's two floors up!"
"I'll make it." He got ready to jump.
"Wait!" Brenda held out The Colour of Magic. "Don't forget this!"
"Oh, right." He shoved it in his back pocket. "Um, thanks for letting me stay here and all."
"You're welcome. Now go before you miss your ride." Brenda would have let him stay a bit longer, perhaps till the tea was ready, but she could sense someone coming.
Todd pushed off the windowsill, making a perfect leap to the ground far below. He looked up and waved to her one last time before hurrying on his way.
Just in time, too—the door opened ever so slightly.
"Your water's boiling." It was Logan. He was carrying something in his arms.
"Oh!" Brenda turned from the window. "I was just . . . letting a little fresh air in. It's so nice after it rains."
"You're up early, Rogue."
The girl blinked, and Brenda stepped in. "We were going to get in some of that extra training you were talking about. Remember, last night?"
"Oh." He nodded. "Well, then, you'll need this." He put what he was carrying down on her bed.
It was a long, flat box, and inside was . . .
"Oh, it's beautiful!" Brenda held it up. It was a costume, like Jean's but with gray instead of green, and filmy bits on the sleeves. "I can't wait to try it on!"
"Welcome to the team."