Please read the first post for the huge Author's Note, explaining most things that might matter to this story, lol! ;)
Words bracketted by '' are in another language. FFN doesn't like what I actually used so I've had to improvise...
Remember: Liberties have been taken. I'm trying to keep it 'real' and true to the spirit, though.
Enjoy!
Smashing Through the Looking Glass
Chapter Two: Part Two
Who Are You, Anyway?
All four of us look down at our various apparel and sigh. In my case, Batman rocks but it isn't a very fashionable statement. Rogue looks fine - and she has a boyfriend, for crying out loud - and Jubilee is wearing her usual bright yellows and reds that could be spotted from orbit. Siryn is eleven and cute and looking too much like Britney Spears at the moment.
"Relax," I tell her and she does. I set my plate down on the immaculate lawn and turn to the other two. "You look fine, okay?"
"And you look… comfy." I know Jubilee is trying to make me feel better.
"Hey, Batman is cool," I say, and hope couscous isn't all over my chin.
"Hi," Jack says.
"Hey," I reply.
"I think you're the only one we haven't met yet." He has a beautiful voice to go with his beautiful exterior but I manage not to flush and stand very gracefully, as a gymnast and dancer should.
Go me.
"Kitty Pryde," I say and extend my hand. Roberto takes it firmly in his and bows to kiss it.
"Roberto da Costa," he says, his lips brushing the back of my knuckles. Oh yeah, he'll be a lady-killer someday. I catch Siryn's quiet sigh and wonder if he isn't reaching an audience already. "It is a pleasure to meet so many lovely ladies." Corny as hell, but sounds good with that accent. He's got that Ricky Martin Latin thing going on. If I were younger…
"Welcome to Xavier's," I say, retrieving my hand and holding it out to his friend. He gives me a firm handshake and fixes me with those eyes of his.
"Jack Lainsbury." I pull my hand gently, just as a test, but he doesn't let go. "Do I know you from somewhere?"
"I don't think that's possible."
"We couldn't have met before now, could we?"
"No." I tug and my hand comes free. "I've been finishing an assignment and cut it close to the wire. I only just got here." I drag my gaze downwards and encounter his plate. The only traces of the grill there involve corn. "Didn't you get a pork chop?"
"I'm vegetarian."
"So you gotta watch out for junk food, too, huh?"
"Absolutely. You never know what they put in that stuff."
Guess that's one reason why you don't have an ounce of body fat on you, I say - in my mind. He's still looking at me so I take a step back, sit down and retrieve my plate, flicking a brave ant back onto the grass.
"So." I take another mouthful of couscous and look up at Jubilee, who doesn't seem to know what to say after 'so'. Will wonders never cease? Jack and Roberto fold themselves onto the grass between Siryn and myself. "Have you tried the macaroni salad? It's very good." Jubilee plays hostess: Look!
"Yes, thank you," Roberto says. Sure, he's a kid, but I'll listen to him read the telephone book. He'll grow into his voice.
"The potato salad is especially tasty," Jack adds. I don't know what part of England he comes from, but if they all talk like this, I'm moving there.
Oddly enough, it's Rogue and I who share a moment while the others continue to talk about food. We look at one another, our expressions conveying amusement and bewilderment at our friends. What are they doing? Our eyes blink. Two good-looking guys and we couldn't be talking about other stuff? I roll my eyes and she smiles. I shrug and tilt my head at Jubilee and pretend I'm panting. Rogue nearly snorts gingerale out her nose.
"Oi!" That would be Russell.
"Oi!" Jack says back, and another of the new students joins our circle. He stands there for a bit and I wonder if he's hot in his black dress shirt - not tucked in, of course - black, black jeans - are they new? - and worn black cowboy boots. His cupid lips smile, revealing a slight gap between his front teeth and it makes him more endearing, somehow. I realize he wants to sit and shift along the grass to make room. Siryn wiggles back a bit, too, and the circle widens. He sits beside me.
"Thanks," he says, and puts his plate down. His other hand holds a bottle of root beer. "Russell." I shake his hand. He has calluses on his fingertips.
"Kitty."
"Cheers."
"Guitar?"
If it's possible, his blue eyes get bigger. "Yeah. Electric. You play?"
"A little acoustic," I admit, wondering when was the last time I picked it up.
"Right on." God, it's like talking to Jamie Oliver or something. He grins at the circle. "The food's really puckah." Definitely Jamie Oliver.
Jack smiles. I'm blinded by his white, white teeth. "We're gonna hafta get a British-American dictionary for this lot."
"I think we'll be able to figure it out," I assure him.
"This boy givin' you trouble?" Keisha comes to stand behind where Jack is sitting and toes his butt with her right sneaker.
"Not yet," Jubilee tells her. Keisha sits between Roberto and Jack, puts her plate down and leans over, her hand extended towards me.
"I've not met you, girl."
"Kitty," I say, shaking her hand and wondering if we should have done the nametag thing.
"Keisha." She waves her hand behind her without looking and says, "And this be Angie."
"Bonjour." Angie waves at me and waits for Jack and Siryn to move so that she can sit down, too.
"Bonjour," I respond. "Welcome to Xavier's."
"You speak French? Oh, please say something in French! I miss it so much! "
I clear my throat and decide to find out how rusty my French really is. "What would you like me to say? "
"Oh, that's fabulous! I'll be able to talk with someone when I'm too tired to translate! And you're so nice, too! "
I laugh. "How do you know? You've only just met me."
"Everyone says you're the best! All the kids wanted to tell me about this time when they were being chased by soldiers in the woods, and your teachers say you and Peter can show all us new students the ropes. "
Do they really? I say - in my mind. Interesting.
Angie is loud but so sweet and excited and obviously homesick. Jack and Marie are following the conversation, but I guess everyone else is in the dark.
"I like your colours. "
"And I like the Batman!"
I nod. "A super hero without super powers." I revert to English for the sake of four of our group.
"Batman? Oh, yeah, he's brill!"
I decide listening to Russell reading the 'phone book would be like verbal bungee jumping, but that it could be fun.
"Do you collect?"
"Do I? I've got them all back at my mum's. The 'Dark Knight' rules!"
I find myself grinning as Russell and I do a high-five and bond over Batman. He packs a pretty good wallop but I still think I could take him. He seems to be assessing me in the same way.
"Who are you, anyway?" This from Jack, who is frowning a bit. Everyone looks at him and his olive skin darkens. "Sorry, that came out wrong. I meant… what do you do here? Are you one of the TAs?"
That isn't what he meant, and I know it, and he knows I know it. Later, you.
"Unofficially, I guess you could say that. I tutor for some of the subjects -"
"There's a subject you don't tutor in, babe?"
Shut up, Jubes, I say - in my mind. "- and right now, I'm teaching some of the kids to swim, getting them to qualify for badges and so on. I'm registered and everything, so it's all legit. They do their tests at a pool I life guard at sometimes in Salem Center."
"That is so cool! See, you are the sweetest!"
"Depends on who you talk to and whether Jupiter is in line with Mars."
Angie starts. "It does?"
"No," I say with a straight face. "It's Jupiter and Venus."
"Really?"
"No. I'm just playing with your head. I do that sometimes, to keep people on their toes."
"Oh." Angie smiles. "Okay. I will be ready for the next one."
The only new students who haven't joined our circle are Rahne, Xi'an and Amara. They're sitting together at a table by the pool, talking to Ms. Munroe and Dr. McCoy. Bobby, Ray and Blink have joined Dani and Peter at another table. I can see the kids playing tag on the other side of the pool area. It's so… normal. I do a headcount: paranoid den mother, that's me. I finish my salmon, which was absolutely delicious, and the rest of my salads and decide to fulfill my promise to myself. I stand, happy I can still do so in one, fluid motion.
"I'm going for more Caesar," I announce and walk towards the patio.
"Me, too," Rogue says and falls into step with me. She lowers her voice. "Ah wonder what they can do."
"We'll find out soon enough, I'm sure."
We reach the buffet and can't continue our conversation. The Professor is there, along with Mr. Summers, Mr. Wagner, Sam and Logan. The Professor has a tall glass of fresh lemonade in his hand. Mr. Summers has a Coke. I note the others are drinking beer: Heineken. I'm not into beer, but I understand that Heineken isn't half bad. Sam says American beer tastes "like pisswater", and that's saying something from a guy who usually only buys things that are labelled "Made in the U.S.A.". I don't want to know how he figured out the taste. As for alcohol at a school gathering? Hey, Sam's old enough and the other two are adults. Xavier's School doesn't keep beer around, so one of them probably popped into town and picked some up for the party. Or, for all I know, Logan has a 'fridge in his room and keeps it stocked. I've seen him with a beer in his hand on more than one occasion.
"Hello, Kitty, Rogue."
"Hello, Professor." In stereo, no less. Great. Just freakin' great. I think we both feel a bit silly after that.
"Are you enjoying yourselves?"
"Ah'm havin' a good time, Professor."
"Meeting the new students, eating lots of food, sitting in the sun. Doesn't get much better than that, sir."
"Indeed, Kitty." He hesitates ever so slightly and his eyes shift almost imperceptivity to Mr. Summers. Rogue is busy with the tongs for the Caesar and Mr. Wagner moves to engage her in conversation. Interesting. I make a point of looking from the Professor to Mr. Summers, so they know that I've noticed.
"Everything okay, Professor?"
"Why do you ask, Kitty?"
Because I'm not some baby just outta diapers, I say - in my mind.
Which he can read. Ugh.
"You guys have been doing that a lot today."
"What?"
I turn to look at Mr. Summers. "You and Ms. Munroe did it earlier, in your office."
"What did we do?"
"You know, that look. Like the look you just did here, with the Professor. Like something is going on."
"Nothing's going on, Kitty. It's just a barbeque."
Too casual, Mr. Summers, I say - in my - oh, forget it.
"Yeah. Right. Whatever."
The tongs are free now and I use them with controlled anger to pile Caesar salad on a plate woefully unprepared for my wrath.
I hear a snicker. "You're gonna bust it, girlie."
I send Logan a glare. Who does he think he is, anyway? "Stow it, bub," I hiss and walk quickly to the beverage table, feeling embarrassed and justified and - well, thirsty. I grab two Cokes just before someone grabs my arm and puts a hand on the small of my back. Logan starts steering me towards the kitchen door. I resist.
"Hey, let go."
"No."
"I'm eating here, you know."
"I know."
"Then let me go."
"Make me."
His face is hard. Something is wrong.
"Are you gonna tell me what's going on?" I counter.
"Maybe. If you're a real good girl."
I phase out of his hold. He stops and spins, checking the garden with dark eyes to see if anyone is watching. No one seems to notice. The group at the buffet has reduced to Mr. Summers and Sam. The Professor has moved back towards the pool and Mr. Wagner is keeping Rogue occupied with a lively story about one of his adventures with the Munich Circus. Logan holds out his hand and appears to calm down instantly. I wish I could do that.
"Please."
That's all he says. One word. It says 'Trust me.' I don't, but what other choice do I have? Pout like a child? Make a scene? Run to someone else to help me deal with it? I look directly at the ruby glasses.
"Is this on the level?" I ask Mr. Summers.
"Yes." His voice is firm and a bit tense. I look at Sam, who nods.
I stare at Logan's large, rough hand as if it was the sharp edge of a weapon being offered instead of the hilt. I get a sense that it could cut me, and I'm not talking literally, with his claws. Matsushima would be proud of me right now, I think. I'm putting my spiritual awareness into words, thinking about what gestures mean and how they can affect me.
I tuck the Cokes under my right arm, the hand of which is still balancing my plate. Tentatively, I reach out with my left hand and place it in his. It closes around mine.
"I don't want to spill my salad," I say clearly.
"Understood."
He leads me to the kitchen door and we go inside. The air conditioning gives me goose bumps. I put my plate and the Cokes down on the island and wipe my hands on the front of my jeans. He isn't looking at me right now. He's at the sink, his hands gripping the stainless steel. He's staring out the window but I don't think he's seeing the view.
"So?" Logan doesn't respond. "Who are you, anyway?"
That gets his attention. He turns and leans his hips against the counter, his hands going out to grip the granite, as if he needs to brace himself. His muscles are tight, his breathing is irregular. Slowly, he lifts his head to look at me with bright, dark eyes. I swallow thickly. He's beautiful.
And terrifying.
"I don't know who I am," he says quietly, and I know it's taking effort for him to maintain control. "I don't know if anyone knows who I am"
I blink. "You know Japanese?"
His eyes narrow. "You know Japanese? "
"Are you a parrot? Yes, I know Japanese. I have a pen pal in Japan, Logan san. " I hope I'm addressing him correctly, though I'm not sure why I care. "I am not fluent, but I have some knowledge of the language."
There is a heavy silence that is louder than anything Siryn can produce.
"I didn't know you knew Japanese, Pryde."
"I get that. Why have you dragged me into the kitchen?"
"Because you should know."
"Know what?"
"You're smart. You've picked up on the undercurrent, and it's been decided that you should know."
"Look, if this is some kind of joke -"
"It's not a joke."
"You're scaring me," I manage, and close my mouth.
Logan's expression changes abruptly to concern.
"I don't mean to do that."
He moves towards me and I unconsciously take a step back and hit the island. He stops inches from me and reaches out slowly to touch my ponytail. My reddish-brown hair isn't the most brilliant colour in the world but he seems to find it fascinating.
"Red," he says softly.
I swallow, mesmerized by him, overwhelmed by his presence and what has yet to be said. "Pardon?"
He releases my hair and puts both hands on my shoulders. His gaze is so intense that I'm shaking.
"Kitty, we think we've found Jean."