Chapter 9: Out With It
I promised you it'd be up soon, now didn't I?
Disclaimer:
Me: I don't own the X-Men, but I do own Alex.
Alex: Who says you do? Nobody owns Alex McAllister!
Me: Yes I do. I created you, remember?
Alex: Point taken.
.......
"Anita, what's Alex's full name?"
It was a weird question to ask your daughter when she's late for school, but I answered it anyway. "Alexander McAllister. Why do you ask?"
She looked like she was going to faint. Screw getting to orchestra on time. "Mom, are you ok?"
She sat down at the kitchen table and reached for the newspaper. "I'm fine," she said. "But I think you need to look at this."
She handed me the New York Times. "Head Legislator of MRA has Mutant for Son," it read. Right beneath the headline, there was a photograph of a man I assumed to be Alex's father, and below that, a long column of text.
SEATTLE Oct. 14: The Mutant Registration Act suffered a setback today as the lead legislator, Rep. Zander McAllister (D-WA) admitted that his son is a mutant.
Rep. McAllister told the public this afternoon on CNN after coming under attack for appearing insensitive to the families of mutants.
"The parents of mutants are just as scared as the rest of the public," he told his critics, "I know the pain and confusion they are going through because my own son, Alex, is a mutant. It's not something we can ignore; mutant registration is a subject that touches all of us. I vow here and now that if my bill passes, Alex will be among the first mutants to be registered."
I had to stop there; it was too much. I put the paper down, grabbed my keys, and headed to school.
I don't actually know how I got to school that day. All I know is that I sat in my parking space for a good fifteen minutes before I could even get together and go into the building.
Mutant. I'd never really even thought about them. It was one of those things you knew about, but didn't think it applied to you. Come on, it's Bayville, for crying out loud. We don't even have homeless people, much less gangs, drug rings, or mutants. They robbed banks in the city and destroyed whole building blocks of Chicago.
I heard once that three muties were responsible for the last big earthquake in LA.
Listen to me. This is ALEX we're talking about. He's yet to attack me, rape, me, or cause an earthquake in my presence, so why should I be so afraid of him now?
But what if his mutation wasn't like that? What if he could walk through walls, or read minds? I shuddered to think of all the thoughts I'd had in his presence that I would prefer remain mine alone.
What about those glasses he always wears? Maybe he has really freaky eyes. It's all just so weird.
I glanced at my clock. 7:59. It was time to go whether I like it or not. I grabbed my stuff and headed for the building.
........
"Hey, do you have the bowing for the Verdi at rehearsal G?" I asked Anita. She was my stand partner, after all, but all she did was stare at her end pin and shake her head.
The day just got weirder and weirder. I saw Tania and her group of academic overachievers whispering whenever I passed them in the hall, and Mr. Biddle flat-out refused to call on me in class, even when I was the only one raising my hand. Ms. Waterstein, my English teacher, suddenly redid our assigned seating, except I noticed that I was one of the few people to move. I went from front and center to the back corner, in Rogue's favorite spot.
I made it through my morning classes and was relieved to join my X Men friends for lunch. They were pretty much the only people I'd seen today that weren't looking at me oddly. Honestly-it was like that dream where you come to school naked and everyone just stares at you, except last I checked, I definitely was wearing pants.
I was on my way to the usual table when it hit me, and by "it" I mean a carton of chocolate milk, and by "me" I mean the back of my head.
I whipped around and promptly saw through the cafeteria wall and into the parking lot.
A ketchup-covered hamburger join the milk.
I squinted to bring my vision back to the foreground and finally found my attackers. Duncan Matthews, a guy I knew only because he was leading our football team to states, was standing on a table, flanked by a bevy of football players. I noticed Jeremy from gov class among the crowd.
Duncan threw his ice cream sandwich, but I managed to duck this time.
"What was that for?" Seriously, I had no clue. Duncan's targets usually included people whose names he knew.
"You know what it's for, mutie." There was a collective gasp from the entirety of Bayville High, including myself. "We don't want your kind here."
I was at a loss of words. Honestly, what does one say to that, even if it is true? I struggled to come up with a better reply than "your mom," but Jean interrupted my thoughts.
*Alex, do you want me to try and wipe them? It's worth a shot.*
*Holy shit, Jean, there's 1600 of them. Just give me a second.*
I don't know what I was going to use that second for, but hey, lucky me. I didn't have to come up with what to do next, because Jeremy was holding up a newspaper and passing around fliers.
"Read it, mutie. The whole world knows." He shoved the paper in my face. There it was in the New York Times: "Head Legislator of MRA has Mutant for Son." A file photo of my dad stared back at me.
So much for a mind wipe.
I looked at the other X Men. Scott had his hands on his glasses, ready to blast the crap out of anyone who came near. Bobby was breathing frost. Jean had her hands on her temples.
One nod, and they'd kick some serious ass.
One nod, and I wouldn't be the only one exposed today.
I couldn't let them do that. I shook my head and they backed off. I knew that if I actually were attacked, they'd still fight.
Duncan jumped down from his table and ran for me. I managed to duck his punch and throw a few more before he hit the ground.
Apparently Wolverine's self-defense classes are useful.
Duncan's friends had been passing around sheets of paper, but when they heard him fall, they came running.
That's when I was glad that I was St. Asaph's top sprinter in winter track last year. I bolted through the doors and headed for the street. I was about two blocks away when Scott pulled up beside me.
"Come on, we're going home."
..............
Again, short, but there you go. The truth is out, and things are not looking good for our young Mr. McAllister. Next chapter: reactions, by many people. If you want to see a particular point of view, please share, because I'm open to ideas.
I'm also still taking new story titles since I still hate this one, and code names for Alex, though I might just have him go code nameless. Jean does it, why can't he?
And now for some reader comments:
ManniElf18: I'm not sure, but I'm thinking he lives in McLean area-one of those hideously large McMansions out in the woods next door to the Saudi royal family. His school is modeled on St. Albans, because honestly, who likes Stalbans? Now granted, I went to a snooty prep school, but even we made fun of Stalbans boys. Alex ended up in the hospital at the when he hit a tree at the end of Ch. 2. I explained it somewhere in Ch. 3, but I guess it's not clear. Thanks for bringing it to my attention. You may have a cookie, but be aware that there is some assembly required.
Neva: Thanks for the suggestions. I don't really know what I want but I'll keep them in mind.
Risty: Yeah, I wish I had a guy as nice as Alex. I guess it's some sort of wish fulfillment. Who knows--you're the psych scholar. I don't actually know any cellist that well, but let me tell you, musicians are weird. Especially percussionists--stay away from the percussionists.
Psychobunny410: I hope you remembered his power in this chapter-it does come up.
Fateema: Thanks, happy reading.
shelly: your wish has been granted.
Lellida: Thanks-that part was especially fun to write.
So, happy reading, and even happier reviewing.
Toodles,
hnh
I promised you it'd be up soon, now didn't I?
Disclaimer:
Me: I don't own the X-Men, but I do own Alex.
Alex: Who says you do? Nobody owns Alex McAllister!
Me: Yes I do. I created you, remember?
Alex: Point taken.
.......
"Anita, what's Alex's full name?"
It was a weird question to ask your daughter when she's late for school, but I answered it anyway. "Alexander McAllister. Why do you ask?"
She looked like she was going to faint. Screw getting to orchestra on time. "Mom, are you ok?"
She sat down at the kitchen table and reached for the newspaper. "I'm fine," she said. "But I think you need to look at this."
She handed me the New York Times. "Head Legislator of MRA has Mutant for Son," it read. Right beneath the headline, there was a photograph of a man I assumed to be Alex's father, and below that, a long column of text.
SEATTLE Oct. 14: The Mutant Registration Act suffered a setback today as the lead legislator, Rep. Zander McAllister (D-WA) admitted that his son is a mutant.
Rep. McAllister told the public this afternoon on CNN after coming under attack for appearing insensitive to the families of mutants.
"The parents of mutants are just as scared as the rest of the public," he told his critics, "I know the pain and confusion they are going through because my own son, Alex, is a mutant. It's not something we can ignore; mutant registration is a subject that touches all of us. I vow here and now that if my bill passes, Alex will be among the first mutants to be registered."
I had to stop there; it was too much. I put the paper down, grabbed my keys, and headed to school.
I don't actually know how I got to school that day. All I know is that I sat in my parking space for a good fifteen minutes before I could even get together and go into the building.
Mutant. I'd never really even thought about them. It was one of those things you knew about, but didn't think it applied to you. Come on, it's Bayville, for crying out loud. We don't even have homeless people, much less gangs, drug rings, or mutants. They robbed banks in the city and destroyed whole building blocks of Chicago.
I heard once that three muties were responsible for the last big earthquake in LA.
Listen to me. This is ALEX we're talking about. He's yet to attack me, rape, me, or cause an earthquake in my presence, so why should I be so afraid of him now?
But what if his mutation wasn't like that? What if he could walk through walls, or read minds? I shuddered to think of all the thoughts I'd had in his presence that I would prefer remain mine alone.
What about those glasses he always wears? Maybe he has really freaky eyes. It's all just so weird.
I glanced at my clock. 7:59. It was time to go whether I like it or not. I grabbed my stuff and headed for the building.
........
"Hey, do you have the bowing for the Verdi at rehearsal G?" I asked Anita. She was my stand partner, after all, but all she did was stare at her end pin and shake her head.
The day just got weirder and weirder. I saw Tania and her group of academic overachievers whispering whenever I passed them in the hall, and Mr. Biddle flat-out refused to call on me in class, even when I was the only one raising my hand. Ms. Waterstein, my English teacher, suddenly redid our assigned seating, except I noticed that I was one of the few people to move. I went from front and center to the back corner, in Rogue's favorite spot.
I made it through my morning classes and was relieved to join my X Men friends for lunch. They were pretty much the only people I'd seen today that weren't looking at me oddly. Honestly-it was like that dream where you come to school naked and everyone just stares at you, except last I checked, I definitely was wearing pants.
I was on my way to the usual table when it hit me, and by "it" I mean a carton of chocolate milk, and by "me" I mean the back of my head.
I whipped around and promptly saw through the cafeteria wall and into the parking lot.
A ketchup-covered hamburger join the milk.
I squinted to bring my vision back to the foreground and finally found my attackers. Duncan Matthews, a guy I knew only because he was leading our football team to states, was standing on a table, flanked by a bevy of football players. I noticed Jeremy from gov class among the crowd.
Duncan threw his ice cream sandwich, but I managed to duck this time.
"What was that for?" Seriously, I had no clue. Duncan's targets usually included people whose names he knew.
"You know what it's for, mutie." There was a collective gasp from the entirety of Bayville High, including myself. "We don't want your kind here."
I was at a loss of words. Honestly, what does one say to that, even if it is true? I struggled to come up with a better reply than "your mom," but Jean interrupted my thoughts.
*Alex, do you want me to try and wipe them? It's worth a shot.*
*Holy shit, Jean, there's 1600 of them. Just give me a second.*
I don't know what I was going to use that second for, but hey, lucky me. I didn't have to come up with what to do next, because Jeremy was holding up a newspaper and passing around fliers.
"Read it, mutie. The whole world knows." He shoved the paper in my face. There it was in the New York Times: "Head Legislator of MRA has Mutant for Son." A file photo of my dad stared back at me.
So much for a mind wipe.
I looked at the other X Men. Scott had his hands on his glasses, ready to blast the crap out of anyone who came near. Bobby was breathing frost. Jean had her hands on her temples.
One nod, and they'd kick some serious ass.
One nod, and I wouldn't be the only one exposed today.
I couldn't let them do that. I shook my head and they backed off. I knew that if I actually were attacked, they'd still fight.
Duncan jumped down from his table and ran for me. I managed to duck his punch and throw a few more before he hit the ground.
Apparently Wolverine's self-defense classes are useful.
Duncan's friends had been passing around sheets of paper, but when they heard him fall, they came running.
That's when I was glad that I was St. Asaph's top sprinter in winter track last year. I bolted through the doors and headed for the street. I was about two blocks away when Scott pulled up beside me.
"Come on, we're going home."
..............
Again, short, but there you go. The truth is out, and things are not looking good for our young Mr. McAllister. Next chapter: reactions, by many people. If you want to see a particular point of view, please share, because I'm open to ideas.
I'm also still taking new story titles since I still hate this one, and code names for Alex, though I might just have him go code nameless. Jean does it, why can't he?
And now for some reader comments:
ManniElf18: I'm not sure, but I'm thinking he lives in McLean area-one of those hideously large McMansions out in the woods next door to the Saudi royal family. His school is modeled on St. Albans, because honestly, who likes Stalbans? Now granted, I went to a snooty prep school, but even we made fun of Stalbans boys. Alex ended up in the hospital at the when he hit a tree at the end of Ch. 2. I explained it somewhere in Ch. 3, but I guess it's not clear. Thanks for bringing it to my attention. You may have a cookie, but be aware that there is some assembly required.
Neva: Thanks for the suggestions. I don't really know what I want but I'll keep them in mind.
Risty: Yeah, I wish I had a guy as nice as Alex. I guess it's some sort of wish fulfillment. Who knows--you're the psych scholar. I don't actually know any cellist that well, but let me tell you, musicians are weird. Especially percussionists--stay away from the percussionists.
Psychobunny410: I hope you remembered his power in this chapter-it does come up.
Fateema: Thanks, happy reading.
shelly: your wish has been granted.
Lellida: Thanks-that part was especially fun to write.
So, happy reading, and even happier reviewing.
Toodles,
hnh