"Bobby?"
"Yes Professor?" Bobby tried to not notice too greatly the boy, no, young man, oh god he hated referring to teenagers. No matter what description he used it sounded wrong, off, even in his head.
"I thought that perhaps you would like showing around our new student?" Bobby had know it was a new student because other the criteria that he hadn't seen him before, Professor Xavier was talking, not beaming thoughts into his head. Frankly it creeped him out when that happened but he didn't talk to the Professor all that often, just in English really and unless the Professor was yelling at you, he talked. (At least, that's what John and Remy said.) The most recent was the day after John left when the Professor wanted to talk about how he felt, him being John's room mate and all and probably John's closest friend here. He had talked then but maybe he was a good multi-tasker and had been busy learning all about Bobby's wet dreams that froze the room or the time John and he got really drunk on Scott's wine coolers and let him blame Logan. What was it Jean had said once, that complete filth was always the first thing that people thought of when they knew their minds were being read?
Bobby didn't think John was complete filth. The wet dreams part maybe but not the wine coolers. More of a could-majorly-screw-up-his-position-as-a- good-boy thing, especially because the Professor probably had learned that it was Bobby who found the wine coolers and told John and said they should try them, since Scott wasn't supposed to have the alcohol on school grounds. It was to teach him a lesson, really.
"Sure." The Professor smiled and Bobby turned to the boy. Golden hair, curling around the base of his neck, lacrosse build. Some interestingly cut shirt. He stuck out his hand and gave his best All-American smile. "I'm Bobby."
"Warren." They shook and Warren stood.
"Your things are already in your room," said the Professor. "You'll be rooming by yourself, I'm afraid. I hope you enjoy your time here."
"Thanks for having me." They left the room, Warren with his hands in his pocket and Bobby ready for some instant synapse message like, 'don't fuck it up Bobby. He's got a rich daddy' or 'you're supposed to have him in your room Bobby. Christ it's not like John died or he's coming back or that you were anything other than comic book buddies' or something.
"So you've seen the Professor's office. Show you one of the better places, the kitchen. You hungry?"
"A little thirsty."
"We really only have juice or soda- school and all that." Bobby debated adding something on to that then figured a quick, 'what the hell'. If Warren was a mole, well the Professor was a mind reader so he'd was screwed any way. "Remy, I'll introduce you, can generally scope out alcohol if that's your desire." Warren smiled. "Help yourself." Bobby motioned to a cupboard and settled onto a stool, watching Warren rummage.
"Do you want anything?"
"Um, if there's Mountain Dew." Warren's shoulder blades seemed to have their own agenda, Bobby noticed, as Warren pulled out two cans and sat himself across from Bobby. Bobby raised his for a toast. "Welcome to Insecurity Central." Warren smiled.
"Cheers."
"Cheers." Warren drank a little and made a small face. Bobby reached over and touched his fingers to the can, still raised to Warren's lips. I may not be able to turn water to wine but damn, would I be useful in a blackout, he thought. Warren sputtered and quickly put his can down.
"How'd?" Bobby made a statue, a small elephant.
"Ice." Warren stared at him and then unbuttoned his shirt. As he worked the buttons, Bobby thought, mutant libido? Super nipples? Super belly button lint? Maybe he could do that thing with the stomach, the belly dancing thing where people rolled their- Warren stretched his wings. "Holy shit." Warren gave half a grin. "Mine looks like fucking party tricks now. That's... that's... how the hell do you swim?"
"I don't generally."
"Shower?"
"It takes a bit longer to dry off but..."
"Wow. Well looks like I didn't get the cool mutation." Warren laughed and folded his wings back. "Wait, could I... maybe..." Warren smiled and nodded, folding one wing around him so Bobby could slowly stroke the feathers. "Shit." Warren buttoned up his shirt.
"But no really the ice thing, I'm sure that comes in handy." Bobby knew his mouth still open hut he couldn't help it. It was almost like challenging what little faith he had; suddenly Christianity and the whole angel thing took on a whole new meaning.
"Yeah. A little. Wow. I'm sorry, I'm just.... Cool." Warren laughed again. "I guess, I should start showing you around and everything but... that must have been hell when you hit puberty and those things sprouted. Did they sprout, like an alien seedpod or something or was it like bones growing or you just woke up one morning and hello, you're preening? Like... "
"I've always had them. Was born with them." Bobby must have made a face. "Yeah, it surprised my mother too but suddenly a lot of the ultrasounds made sense and stuff. Must have hurt like hell though, the wings coming out, and everything, even though she had a C-section. They've grown with me which I guess is the weirdest thing, and I think my bones are hollow or a lot lighter than normal people, like birds or something."
"How'd you hide it?"
"My dad paid off this tailor and he's been making special shirts and sweaters and all that since I was little. I went to boarding school for two years- got changed when no one was looking although, I shed sometimes, the feathers, so new ones could grow and that was always a little awkward."
"But like... changing in the locker room?"
"I didn't. I played sports so I didn't have to take gym and I could change on my own then. I'd stay late on the field, practicing or whatever so I had the locker room to myself. But when I hit my growth spurt they got bigger so I moved back to New York City and just did private school."
"What do your parents think? Your relatives?"
"They're always traveling and I'm not really close to any of my extended family. I usually have the apartment for months at a time on my own. When I was younger I had a nanny who knew but she was paid enough to stay quiet. What happened with yours? When did you know?"
"Honestly? The wet dreams that froze the sheets were a good first clue. I didn't know the real thing till I was like 13, when things started freezing when I touched them. Then the Professor contacted me and I told my family I got a full scholarship to a prep school for the gifted in upstate New York."
"Yeah? The Professor contacted me too. Like two weeks ago. He kept talking about how much better it would be to be here so I figured what the hell. Are you a sophomore?"
"Yeah. You too?"
"Yup."
"Cool." Bobby finished off his can and played with it for a moment, freezing it then unfreezing it until the metal started to warp. "C'mon, I'll show you the rest of the way around." They walked through the halls and Bobby pointed out different classrooms, the dining room, the living room. They stopped in there and Bobby introduced him to Kitty and Jubilee. They headed upstairs.
"So, who's John?"
"He was my roommate. He left three weeks ago. He, um, was a runaway and his dad found out he was here. So he went back home, to Australia."
"Wait, his dad took him home even though he was a mutant?"
"That's Marie's room. She's nice. We used to date. No, he, uh, didn't know he was a mutant. John ran before he found out."
"Oh."
"I'm assuming that's your room, so I could help you unpack or we could go to my room or something. I'm really bad at this stuff but I guess the Professor chooses me 'cause I don't have a noticeable accent and I look like I should be at a prep school."
"I guess, I could check out your room." Bobby led the way again. He flopped on the bed, unsure if he really felt like offering up his dessert supply. That still felt a little like betraying John and considering he was already feeling bad for checking out Warren's ass, he'd rather not add any more stops to the guilt trip. "So everyone here is a mutant?"
"Yup. Down to the kid with spikes on his back."
"Oh." Warren's eyes went wide. "Ok."
"So, do you have a girlfriend?"
"No. Do you?"
"Not ...anymore." Bobby was tempted to read John's email to Warren, tell him exactly everything, just to get the advice of someone who didn't know John, who didn't look secretly relived now he was gone. Someone who didn't even bother to forget that John wasn't coming back, who wouldn't say, "so are you going to sit in John's seat now Bobby?" Marie knocked on the door and then came in. "Marie, this is Warren. Warren, Marie."
"Pleased to meet you. Um, dinner's done and Jean cooked, which means takeout. And I need someone to help me get the chicken lo mein now that..." 'John's not here,' thinks Bobby. Well at least his presence was noticed for certain things.
"I'll help, I'm starved."
"Let's go then," said Bobby and they left the room.
Bobby read and reread the email. What John had written, 'whatever you tell anyone is your own choice. whatever we had, it was worth more than anything I can care to measure', that wasn't something you told a friend with benefits, or a comic book buddy. It would have been nice if John had written anything else too, other than 'please send the Krimpets as soon as possible please'. He was starting to sense a pattern in John's emails, his limiting his words to as few as possible. Except when it came to Krimpets.
Later that night Bobby found himself standing outside of Scott's door and knocking. "Yes, Bobby? It's late, can't this-"
"How did you find John's dad?"
"I'm sorry?"
"It's just, he never even told me his last name or what town he was from. How did you know? Did Professor Xavier or Ms. Gray-"
"No. He wrote his full name down on the last Math quiz. I checked it out online. Bobby, I know John was your friend but his father had the right to know where his son was."
"Yeah. I'm sure he did." Bobby went back to his room. He stood in the middle for a moment not sure what he should do, what to do. There was some homework to be done that he could scratch off tomorrow morning, and a new Astro City that had come in the mail, and Krimpets to be boxed and sent. He could go talk to Warren or Marie or Remy or someone. Call home- he hadn't done that in a while. Hell, he could even do some Danger Room exercises or something. But there were too many excuses to be made for each action. Bobby opted to stand there.
"Yes Professor?" Bobby tried to not notice too greatly the boy, no, young man, oh god he hated referring to teenagers. No matter what description he used it sounded wrong, off, even in his head.
"I thought that perhaps you would like showing around our new student?" Bobby had know it was a new student because other the criteria that he hadn't seen him before, Professor Xavier was talking, not beaming thoughts into his head. Frankly it creeped him out when that happened but he didn't talk to the Professor all that often, just in English really and unless the Professor was yelling at you, he talked. (At least, that's what John and Remy said.) The most recent was the day after John left when the Professor wanted to talk about how he felt, him being John's room mate and all and probably John's closest friend here. He had talked then but maybe he was a good multi-tasker and had been busy learning all about Bobby's wet dreams that froze the room or the time John and he got really drunk on Scott's wine coolers and let him blame Logan. What was it Jean had said once, that complete filth was always the first thing that people thought of when they knew their minds were being read?
Bobby didn't think John was complete filth. The wet dreams part maybe but not the wine coolers. More of a could-majorly-screw-up-his-position-as-a- good-boy thing, especially because the Professor probably had learned that it was Bobby who found the wine coolers and told John and said they should try them, since Scott wasn't supposed to have the alcohol on school grounds. It was to teach him a lesson, really.
"Sure." The Professor smiled and Bobby turned to the boy. Golden hair, curling around the base of his neck, lacrosse build. Some interestingly cut shirt. He stuck out his hand and gave his best All-American smile. "I'm Bobby."
"Warren." They shook and Warren stood.
"Your things are already in your room," said the Professor. "You'll be rooming by yourself, I'm afraid. I hope you enjoy your time here."
"Thanks for having me." They left the room, Warren with his hands in his pocket and Bobby ready for some instant synapse message like, 'don't fuck it up Bobby. He's got a rich daddy' or 'you're supposed to have him in your room Bobby. Christ it's not like John died or he's coming back or that you were anything other than comic book buddies' or something.
"So you've seen the Professor's office. Show you one of the better places, the kitchen. You hungry?"
"A little thirsty."
"We really only have juice or soda- school and all that." Bobby debated adding something on to that then figured a quick, 'what the hell'. If Warren was a mole, well the Professor was a mind reader so he'd was screwed any way. "Remy, I'll introduce you, can generally scope out alcohol if that's your desire." Warren smiled. "Help yourself." Bobby motioned to a cupboard and settled onto a stool, watching Warren rummage.
"Do you want anything?"
"Um, if there's Mountain Dew." Warren's shoulder blades seemed to have their own agenda, Bobby noticed, as Warren pulled out two cans and sat himself across from Bobby. Bobby raised his for a toast. "Welcome to Insecurity Central." Warren smiled.
"Cheers."
"Cheers." Warren drank a little and made a small face. Bobby reached over and touched his fingers to the can, still raised to Warren's lips. I may not be able to turn water to wine but damn, would I be useful in a blackout, he thought. Warren sputtered and quickly put his can down.
"How'd?" Bobby made a statue, a small elephant.
"Ice." Warren stared at him and then unbuttoned his shirt. As he worked the buttons, Bobby thought, mutant libido? Super nipples? Super belly button lint? Maybe he could do that thing with the stomach, the belly dancing thing where people rolled their- Warren stretched his wings. "Holy shit." Warren gave half a grin. "Mine looks like fucking party tricks now. That's... that's... how the hell do you swim?"
"I don't generally."
"Shower?"
"It takes a bit longer to dry off but..."
"Wow. Well looks like I didn't get the cool mutation." Warren laughed and folded his wings back. "Wait, could I... maybe..." Warren smiled and nodded, folding one wing around him so Bobby could slowly stroke the feathers. "Shit." Warren buttoned up his shirt.
"But no really the ice thing, I'm sure that comes in handy." Bobby knew his mouth still open hut he couldn't help it. It was almost like challenging what little faith he had; suddenly Christianity and the whole angel thing took on a whole new meaning.
"Yeah. A little. Wow. I'm sorry, I'm just.... Cool." Warren laughed again. "I guess, I should start showing you around and everything but... that must have been hell when you hit puberty and those things sprouted. Did they sprout, like an alien seedpod or something or was it like bones growing or you just woke up one morning and hello, you're preening? Like... "
"I've always had them. Was born with them." Bobby must have made a face. "Yeah, it surprised my mother too but suddenly a lot of the ultrasounds made sense and stuff. Must have hurt like hell though, the wings coming out, and everything, even though she had a C-section. They've grown with me which I guess is the weirdest thing, and I think my bones are hollow or a lot lighter than normal people, like birds or something."
"How'd you hide it?"
"My dad paid off this tailor and he's been making special shirts and sweaters and all that since I was little. I went to boarding school for two years- got changed when no one was looking although, I shed sometimes, the feathers, so new ones could grow and that was always a little awkward."
"But like... changing in the locker room?"
"I didn't. I played sports so I didn't have to take gym and I could change on my own then. I'd stay late on the field, practicing or whatever so I had the locker room to myself. But when I hit my growth spurt they got bigger so I moved back to New York City and just did private school."
"What do your parents think? Your relatives?"
"They're always traveling and I'm not really close to any of my extended family. I usually have the apartment for months at a time on my own. When I was younger I had a nanny who knew but she was paid enough to stay quiet. What happened with yours? When did you know?"
"Honestly? The wet dreams that froze the sheets were a good first clue. I didn't know the real thing till I was like 13, when things started freezing when I touched them. Then the Professor contacted me and I told my family I got a full scholarship to a prep school for the gifted in upstate New York."
"Yeah? The Professor contacted me too. Like two weeks ago. He kept talking about how much better it would be to be here so I figured what the hell. Are you a sophomore?"
"Yeah. You too?"
"Yup."
"Cool." Bobby finished off his can and played with it for a moment, freezing it then unfreezing it until the metal started to warp. "C'mon, I'll show you the rest of the way around." They walked through the halls and Bobby pointed out different classrooms, the dining room, the living room. They stopped in there and Bobby introduced him to Kitty and Jubilee. They headed upstairs.
"So, who's John?"
"He was my roommate. He left three weeks ago. He, um, was a runaway and his dad found out he was here. So he went back home, to Australia."
"Wait, his dad took him home even though he was a mutant?"
"That's Marie's room. She's nice. We used to date. No, he, uh, didn't know he was a mutant. John ran before he found out."
"Oh."
"I'm assuming that's your room, so I could help you unpack or we could go to my room or something. I'm really bad at this stuff but I guess the Professor chooses me 'cause I don't have a noticeable accent and I look like I should be at a prep school."
"I guess, I could check out your room." Bobby led the way again. He flopped on the bed, unsure if he really felt like offering up his dessert supply. That still felt a little like betraying John and considering he was already feeling bad for checking out Warren's ass, he'd rather not add any more stops to the guilt trip. "So everyone here is a mutant?"
"Yup. Down to the kid with spikes on his back."
"Oh." Warren's eyes went wide. "Ok."
"So, do you have a girlfriend?"
"No. Do you?"
"Not ...anymore." Bobby was tempted to read John's email to Warren, tell him exactly everything, just to get the advice of someone who didn't know John, who didn't look secretly relived now he was gone. Someone who didn't even bother to forget that John wasn't coming back, who wouldn't say, "so are you going to sit in John's seat now Bobby?" Marie knocked on the door and then came in. "Marie, this is Warren. Warren, Marie."
"Pleased to meet you. Um, dinner's done and Jean cooked, which means takeout. And I need someone to help me get the chicken lo mein now that..." 'John's not here,' thinks Bobby. Well at least his presence was noticed for certain things.
"I'll help, I'm starved."
"Let's go then," said Bobby and they left the room.
Bobby read and reread the email. What John had written, 'whatever you tell anyone is your own choice. whatever we had, it was worth more than anything I can care to measure', that wasn't something you told a friend with benefits, or a comic book buddy. It would have been nice if John had written anything else too, other than 'please send the Krimpets as soon as possible please'. He was starting to sense a pattern in John's emails, his limiting his words to as few as possible. Except when it came to Krimpets.
Later that night Bobby found himself standing outside of Scott's door and knocking. "Yes, Bobby? It's late, can't this-"
"How did you find John's dad?"
"I'm sorry?"
"It's just, he never even told me his last name or what town he was from. How did you know? Did Professor Xavier or Ms. Gray-"
"No. He wrote his full name down on the last Math quiz. I checked it out online. Bobby, I know John was your friend but his father had the right to know where his son was."
"Yeah. I'm sure he did." Bobby went back to his room. He stood in the middle for a moment not sure what he should do, what to do. There was some homework to be done that he could scratch off tomorrow morning, and a new Astro City that had come in the mail, and Krimpets to be boxed and sent. He could go talk to Warren or Marie or Remy or someone. Call home- he hadn't done that in a while. Hell, he could even do some Danger Room exercises or something. But there were too many excuses to be made for each action. Bobby opted to stand there.