Chapter 2
Jesse woke on a metal table in an unfamiliar room. Panic instantly clawed his mind. Where am I? Oh man, what about that kid? Oh man-
"Don't be afraid." Jesse looked over his shoulder and saw a woman, red-haired and slender. She smiled. "I'm Jean Grey. This is Xavier Institute for Higher Learning. You were attacked in an alley and one of our students brought you here."
Jesse stammered out an alias: "I'm Andrew-Andrew Foster. Is that kid alright?"
Jean nodded. "Kurt Wagner. He's fine. He's been asking about you all day. You'll be seeing him soon. Also, Proffessor Xavier will be here in a moment. In the meantime, get your shirt on. You check out fine. You were lucky. Most thugs just shoot then take the loot." She handed Jesse his black T-shirt, and he gratefully slipped it on. As he climbed off the table, the door opened. A man in a wheelchair, followed closely by a boy with blue-black hair, entered the room. Jean made the introductions.
"Proffessor Charles Xavier, this is Andrew Foster. Andrew, this is Professor Xavier and Kurt Wagner."
Jesse nodded. "It's a pleasure. Thank you so much for your help." He looked directly at Kurt during the last comment, rememnering the yellow eyes of last night. Kurt smiled, and Jesse grinned back, realizing he must have been imagining things. Kurt's eyes were brown.
"It's our pleasure, Mr. Foster," said Xavier. "Please feel free to stay here if you have no other accomadations. We have ample room, and Kurt here can show you the sights."
Jesse was ready to politely decline, then realized he had no place else to go. Without Winnie, he didn't really want to go anywhere. He would leave long before anyone could get suspicious, and they seemed friendly enough. "Thank you. I'm afraid I'll have to take you up on that."
Xavier smiled, a gesture which instantly put Jesse at ease. "Wonderful. Kurt will show you around while Jean gets your room ready. If you'll excuse me, I have a class in five minutes." Jesse nodded. "Thank you again."
Once Jean went to get Jesse's room ready and Xavier left, Kurt dragged Jesse out the door, asking questions all the way.
"How old are you?"
"Seventeen."
"Sveet! I'm sixteen. Vhere are you from? I'm from Germany, but I came over here to go to school."
"Cool. I pretty much just travel right now."
Jesse's dark thoughts were slowly brightening as Kurt continued with active dialogue. He might actually like this place.
"...And here's the kitchen. Don't show up when Logan cooks though, his pancakes are vorse than eating plastic!"
Their laughter echoed in the sunlit hall, and a friendship was born.