Author's note: Happy New Year, everyone! I am thrilled to be posting another section of a story close to my heart, and hope you will enjoy reading it. Please review, as it is such a nice surprise to receive comments! I still own no Marvel characters, but do own the events that occur in my stories. Thanks for reading!
Something Out of Nothing - (part 6)
Fridays around the bustling college campus were an exciting time for most students. After all, there were parties to look forward to, outfits to plan, potential dates to worry over. Even the staff enjoyed the beginning of the weekend, but one academic advisor was still hard at work, despite her daily tasks having already been completed. Her red hair glinted in the setting sun as she waited for her final appointment, leafing through her calendar book to recall her upcoming responsibilities. So many things to do, and so little time to complete them in, she contemplated silently, until a gentle tapping sounded on her door. "Come in!" Her green eyes held a smile in them as Ororo Munroe entered.
"Hello, Miss Grey," Ororo greeted her quietly.
"Hello yourself!" Her warm demeanor helped the student in front of her feel more at ease. "How are things going this week?"
"They are good. My classes have been interesting, I've been getting my work in on time, and I've been sleeping more regularly than when we first talked."
"That's excellent. Please, have a seat," she offered, gesturing to the chair across from her own desk. "Remy tells me he dropped those books off already that he'd been planning to give to you. Have they been helpful?"
"Oh yes," Ororo nodded her head emphatically. "They have made studying much easier."
"Wonderful," Jean smiled. "So you feel overall that working with Remy has helped you get yourself back on track with your academic goals?"
"Yes, definitely." Academic goals, sure, but personal life? The song "Fire and Ice" last night from Pat Benatar's CD had hit Ororo just a little too close to home. At first, she'd berated herself for not taking him up on his offer to eat dinner with her, but then later took the song as a sign..."I wanna give you my love, but you'll just take a little piece of my heart." Satisfied that she'd made the right decision, she'd fallen asleep, only to be racked with dreams of Remy being swallowed up by the rays of the setting sun as he watched her walk away from him. He'd been silently engulfed, never to be seen or heard from again, and Ororo had shaken herself awake to escape from the horrible image. However, as is often the case, while she drifted back to sleep in the twilight, she forgot what had frightened her so badly in the first place...in the morning, there was only a lingering guilt in her mind, a sense that she'd made a mistake she couldn't quite put her finger on, and the young girl was simply used to feeling as if everything were her fault anyway, thanks to her father's careful indoctrination.
As Ororo silently pondered, the quiet between Jean Grey and her student lengthened a little too long. Clearing her throat to jar her advisee back to the here and now, Jean asked if she was thinking about her weekend plans. Ororo blushed and murmured an apology. "Um, I don't really have much of an exciting weekend planned, actually. Tomorrow is the first time I'll be attending an all-day weekend class, and the second half of the course is scheduled for next Saturday. I'm not sure what it will be like, but I needed an elective, so I chose pottery."
"Taking a weekend course was smart, Ororo. It'll be nice to be able to focus on the art all day long and make significant progress on a project, especially since the art rooms are on another campus altogether, one that we share with other colleges in the area."
Ororo was perplexed to hear that and mentioned that she had wondered where the building was, since she couldn't find it on the main grounds.
"Yes, unfortunately, you may as well catch the eight A.M. shuttle in order to arrive on time for the nine o'clock class, since traffic seems to always be bad. The pickup point is in front of the administrative offices, and I advise you to bring a lunch because there are only extremely limited food services on that campus." Ororo nodded and Jean asked her if she'd ever taken a pottery class before.
"No, but it has always seemed exciting to me. I've seen videos of people making pieces on a pottery wheel in the past, and wanted to try it myself. Have you ever taken a class in pottery-making, Miss Grey?"
Jean's eyes suddenly got a far-off look in them, which surprised Ororo. "My first husband, Scott, and I went on a date one time to a Friday night, couples-only pottery class." She laughed. "I had to beg him to go; he was so stoic and stuck in his ways. But one of my favorite movies is "Ghost," and the pottery scene in there is so romantic, and I guess I just wanted to experience something like that with him."
"I have never seen that movie," Ororo said quietly, feeling a bit portentous with the way her advisor was talking.
"Oh, you should; the story line is perfect," Jean assured her, and Ororo made a mental note to pick it up from the library. "Well, anyway, when we got there, I had trouble making the clay into anything recognizable, so Scott spent the whole night helping me mold it instead of working on his." She chuckled. "By the time we were through, he had a flat piece of clay that he insisted was a 'pizza stone,' and I had a little flower pot. The next week, he went to pick it up for me, after it had been fired, and when he brought it home, it was bright red." Jean blinked a few times and Ororo realized she was tearing up. "He said that he'd chosen that tone because it reminded him of my hair, his favorite color in the world."
"What happened to him?" The query was quiet; the young girl hoped she wasn't invading Jean's privacy.
Her advisor smiled with watery eyes. "Three years ago, he was on a business trip, having a meal late at night in New York City. The restaurant was just a tiny place in a neighborhood that Scott knew nothing about, but as he was eating, he saw a child run by, being chased by three large men." Jean paused and took a deep breath. "He left his meal when he heard the kid screaming." Ororo found herself at a loss for words, only able to watch as Miss Grey stood up and moved to stare out the window. "The three men were in a gang; they had ridiculous aliases...Blob, Quicksilver, and Pyro. I guess they thought that made them powerful, no one knowing their real names. Anyway, they worked for a woman named Raven, who stole street children and made them fight in an underground gambling ring. The kid they were after was only ten years old...he would have been killed." Jean folded her arms around herself as she remembered. "Scott ran after them and shielded the youth from being taken, barely even realizing what was going on. I don't know what possessed him to do it, but he never could stand to see a child suffer. Maybe it was because of his own upbringing," she added quietly.
Ororo nodded sadly, understanding all too well his motivation.
"He boosted the kid over a fence down an alley and told him to run to the police station. The only reason I found out any of this at all was because the kid was scared enough to do as he was told. As he ran, he looked back, and saw one of the thugs pull a knife and lunge towards Scott, too fast for him to escape. They slit his throat, and he bled out before anyone could help him." A tear rolled down Jean's cheek and she wiped it away, still looking out the window. "I miss him every day," she whispered, and Ororo found herself fighting back her own emotions at how unfair life could be.
"What happened to the three kidnappers?"
"They were eventually taken into custody and the gambling ring was exposed, so I guess Scott would feel that his sacrifice was largely worth it. After all, there are a lot of free children because of him, but it was a hard price to pay."
Ororo couldn't help but quietly offer her condolences. "I'm so sorry, Miss Grey."
Jean stood resigned and silent for a minute, contemplating the cruel hand of fate. "At least I can sleep at night knowing those three monsters are in jail, along with their leader." More composed now, she continued, "Scott was a good man, and I was lucky to have the years with him that I did. I wouldn't trade them away, even in exchange for ridding myself of this pain." She hadn't talked to anyone about her husband for so long, and it felt good to say his name aloud again. "So as far as pottery class goes, yes, I've tried it. And enjoyed it...I'm sure you will, too."
Ororo nodded and silently planned to make a clay piece for her advisor as a surprise if it came out well. "Thank you very much. I hope so."
"Please let me know all about it the next time we see each other," Jean offered, as her student began gathering her belongings. "And don't forget to stay on track with Remy."
"I won't," Ororo promised.
"Also, your father called me to see about your progress." Ororo's head snapped up, but she managed to keep her inner sensation of terror from showing on her face. "He's a very abrupt man, isn't he?" Jean tried to joke with her advisee, but honestly, she had been very off-put by Mr. Farouk's tone and questions.
Ororo's heart pounded as she tried to nod, hoping against hope that Miss Grey had told him as little as possible, especially in regards to the Academic Watch program.
Perhaps Jean subconsciously sensed Ororo's fears, because her next sentence was quite comforting. "I did not tell him about your participation in Academic Watch, since I felt that if you wanted to share that with him, you would tell him yourself." She did, however, take note of the fact that the young girl visibly untensed her body, and filed the information away to ponder over later.
"Thank you," Ororo replied, keeping her voice as even as possible, trying not to show that she felt as if she'd just escaped the gallows.
"You're welcome. I mean, after all, you are an adult, and should be treated as such."
Can you tell my father that the next time you talk to him? Ororo wondered bitterly before getting up to shake her advisor's hand. "I appreciate you taking the time to meet with me today," she said aloud. "And thank you for telling me about Mr. Grey."
"Mr. Summers," Jean said softly. "I was once 'Mrs. Summers.'"
Ororo squeezed her hand slightly, not sure what to say, but desperate to provide some semblance of comfort. "I'm sure he was wonderful."
Jean nodded. "He was. Thank you."
Ororo left the room with her bag, closing the door quietly behind her, while Miss Grey turned back to her desk, finally planning to leave for the day. But her self-composure slipped noticeably when out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of a bright red flowerpot, filled merrily with daisies in a corner of her shelf. Leaning on her desk for support, emotion finally threatened to overwhelm her, the thought of having nothing but an empty apartment to return home to at the forefront of her mind.
The next morning, when Ororo arrived at the designated art building, she had some difficulty finding the correct class. The rooms fanned out in a maze from the main entrance, and were all so filled with interesting equipment and art pieces that she got caught up in observing them. By the time she finally arrived at the right classroom, she discovered that she was the last person there, and quickly took the final seat available, towards the back of the room. To Ororo's right was a wall, but to her left sat a completely unexpected individual. His great, hulking mass made him look more suited to the football field than the art room, but he seemed friendly enough, since he smiled at her as she sat down, dropping her bookbag to the side of her pottery wheel.
"Good morning class," the teacher began. "I am Professor Aquilla, and I'm very excited to be spending the whole day with you, but be prepared to work hard. Has anyone ever used a pottery wheel before?" Several people in the class raised their hands, including, to Ororo's surprise, the young man next to her. "Let us go over the basics again then, to either refresh our memories, or begin learning anew." She did a short demonstration for the class, then guided the students to retrieve their own supplies and begin working with the wheel.
Ororo was flustered from the start. She had been a decent artist in school, but purposefully picked the pottery class because she felt that her drawings and paintings never came out quite as she wished they did. She thought perhaps a more hands-on approach, one where she guided the actual art materials with her fingertips, would be more satisfying, but it was much harder to begin than the demonstration had made it look.
"Do you need help?" Ororo was shocked to hear someone speaking to her in a quiet Russian accent. It was the young man next to her, already set up with his work station, and beginning to shape his clay.
"Yes, thank you." She found herself blushing. He was quite handsome, with rippling muscles and kind eyes, and as she was not used to conversing with many men, when the opportunity arose, it always kind of caught her off-guard.
The rest of the class continued around them as he got up and helped her with her wheel. He showed her how to begin her pot, but when she tried it herself, it was difficult to move it into the shape she wanted. "Do you want me to help you start it?" He asked. Ororo nodded and let him take her seat. She watched as his hands expertly formed the clay into a recognizable shape. "If you want, you can feel how hard I'm pressing it." Ororo glanced around the room to see if anyone was watching, but everyone seemed to be concentrating on their own work, including the teacher, who was helping another student who was having trouble. Ororo's heart began pounding a little faster as she decided to take him up on his offer, and willed her face to stop burning. She reached out towards his hands, which utterly dwarfed her own, and touched them lightly, trying to feel the pressure he was using to shape the clay. "You see?" He continued. "Is not difficult once you get the hang of it. Now you try." He vacated her spot, letting go of the clay, and it immediately began to wobble. Quickly, Ororo sat down and tried to regain control, but just made a mess of things, this time pressing it too hard. She sighed in frustration and her classmate smiled. "Is okay. Just try it again. Do you want me to help you form the first one with your own hands?" Ororo felt nervous pangs in her stomach but knew that she needed assistance, and that there was no reason to be afraid of his offer.
"Yes please," she answered meekly, and felt him reach around her softly, cupping her hands in his own. For such a large, muscled person, he was surprisingly gentle, Ororo pondered.
"I hope this is not too close for you," he mentioned, as he helped her begin to form the clay. "Growing up in Russia, people were much more affectionate than they are here."
Ororo laughed, partially out of nervousness, but replied, "No, no, I appreciate it. I'm not sure I would have gotten the hang of this without your guidance."
"It is just that I notice people here sometimes become uncomfortable while I am talking, and then I realize that it is because I am standing too close to them. Or like when my father came to visit me here at school and I kissed him on the cheek...I had missed him and not seen him in awhile, but I recognized from the looks that people gave me that that is a strange thing to do in America."
Ororo smiled at his genuine nature. He was very sweet, whatever else his shortcomings might be.
"Well how does that feel? I think you now are getting the hang of it." When Ororo acquiesced, he removed his hands from hers and stood back, wiping them off on the smock he was wearing. Ororo really did feel that she was doing better now; the pot actually seemed to be taking shape beneath her fingers. She still felt a little feverish from his touch, but he smiled broadly at her and she couldn't help but grin back.
"Thank you very much." She shut off her wheel for a second and stood up, wiping her own hands. "It has been a pleasure to meet you..."
"Piotr," he chuckled, slapping his forehead with the palm of his hand. "I can't believe I reached my arms around you without telling you my name. I am sorry. And what is yours?"
"Ororo," she laughed with him. "And there's no need to be sorry. You seem very knowledgeable in this area, and I was glad of your assistance."
Piotr made his way back over to his own wheel, and Ororo sat down at hers once more. Both began to work on their prospective projects as they heard music turn on from the front of the room. "She always does this!" Piotr motioned to the radio playing. "Helps us to complete our tasks. Now, my friend, listen to the sounds all around you. Feel the clay; watch the wheel spin. Make something from the depths of your heart."
Ororo marveled at his fingers, so large and well-suited for gross motor activities, and yet, delicately moving the clay into the most beautiful shapes. She could kick herself for being so presumptuous earlier. "Are you an artist?"
Piotr considered the question. "I suppose I am, though it is not what I am here at school for, if that's what you mean."
"What are you studying then?"
"I'm working towards my Health and Fitness degree so I can be a sports and fitness coordinator at a non-profit place." He watched his companion nod. "Makes more sense, da? I suppose no one is surprised to hear that."
"No, I – I –" Ororo didn't know what to say.
"Don't worry about it. I just mean that in looking at me, that is what a person would expect. After all, I do work out, and I enjoy all that comes with that. And I'm sure my girlfriend enjoys the benefits of it, too," he laughed.
Of course he would have a girlfriend, Ororo inwardly sighed, but it didn't cut her deeply. After all, they'd just met, and she had someone else on her mind anyway...
"Do you know my girlfriend, maybe? Katherine Pryde?" He asked eagerly. When Ororo said that she did not, he added, "Sometimes she will introduce herself as 'Kitty.'" But Ororo had met so few people on campus that she had still never heard of her. "Well, after you and I become friends today, you can meet her sometime," Piotr laughed. "She is beautiful and kind, and the direct opposite of me." Ororo was just about to rebut his remark about himself, when he continued, "Oh, I realize now how that sounded, haha. I just mean that she is very tiny, and always good about slipping into any place before you even expect it! But now I have talked a lot about me. Tell me about you."
"Well, I also lived somewhere besides the United States at first; I grew up in Cairo before moving here." She paused to fix her wilting pot. "I know what you mean about life being very different in America. It was hard for me to adjust as well after I moved here."
"How long have you lived here?" Piotr asked her. "For me, it has only been about five years."
"For me, it has been twelve, almost thirteen. I've really only ever seen New England. What about you?"
"When we first arrived, we were in Los Angeles. I hated it there! So bright and sunny all the time, no changes in seasons. I missed Russia badly, but it was interesting to be near the ocean for the first time in my life. Well, at least relatively nearer than I was when I lived in Russia."
"Yes!" Ororo yelped. "I know exactly what you mean! I had never seen the ocean growing up in Egypt, because I never left my hometown. When I first arrived here on the East Coast, I couldn't believe how close the water was to absolutely everything. I have fallen in love with it," she smiled.
Piotr returned her grin. "Da, the same for me, comrade. My father moved us to the East Coast after a year in California. He had been offered a better job out here, and I was so happy, since at least they have winter where we live now." His eyes widened at the thought of snow. "I am counting down the days until the first snowfall here!"
Ororo chuckled. "I have also always enjoyed the winter. Snow is just so magical when it is falling."
"I will look for you then, when the first flakes come down. Maybe we will run into each other outside and have a snowball fight." His grin was so childlike and sweet that Ororo laughed aloud. Looks like Kitty is one lucky lady.
"So Mr. Jack-of-all-trades, tell me then what it is like to be both a fitness enthusiast and an artist."
"Well, although I just turned twenty-one, I am only a sophomore because I lost a little time when I first came over and needed to learn English more extensively. However, even though I've only been in college two years here, I have taken every painting class they have available."
Ororo was fairly impressed by that. "So are you now branching out into other genres?"
"Da. I'm trying the pottery now, and welding a little later in the semester. Then I'll see what else they have to offer."
"They have welding here? That sounds very interesting."
"I will let you know what it is like after I take it." It was nice that Piotr seemed to assume that they were already friends, and would continue to see each other. Ororo felt very welcome in his presence, a sensation she'd been craving since she'd first stepped foot on campus. "Your pot is now coming out quite nicely," Piotr commented.
Ororo was pleased to see that she was making real progress now, and hoped she wouldn't get too overzealous while talking and ruin it. She turned to look at his and noticed that he seemed to be making a vase.
He grinned sheepishly and shrugged his shoulders. "I hope Kitty will like some nice flowers in this when I have finished it."
This may just be the sweetest man alive. "I'm sure she will," Ororo replied. For awhile the two just worked on their own pieces, adding detail here and there as they saw fit, but Ororo's hands began to tire after awhile, so she turned back to her companion for conversation. "What sort of things do you paint?" She noticed that he never seemed to tire, just continued lovingly working with the clay.
"I have painted still lifes and sunsets, animals and scenes of nature, but what I most enjoy painting are portraits of people."
"I am very impressed by that. I know it is quite difficult," Ororo replied. For a second she realized that he must also have painted some nudes if he had taken every class at the university, but she quickly put the thought out of her mind as she felt the color in her face start to rise again.
"To find the beauty in a person that he or she may not know about, and then put it down on canvas, that is a joy," Piotr answered.
Ororo could only imagine how beautiful his paintings must be if his pottery was any indication of his artistic talent. "I would very much like to see your work sometime."
"Why not be a part of it then?" He offered. "I am always looking for new people to paint. Come and sit with me sometime, although be aware that it will take me several days to finish it."
"Really? You would want me to sit for you?"
He turned towards her. "Your complexion is lovely, and to put your stunning white hair on canvas would be an intriguing challenge, one that I hope you will allow me to try and complete sometime."
Ororo had never before heard her hair referred to as stunning. "I would love to do that with you, Piotr," she answered truthfully. "I mean, as long as your girlfriend would not mind."
He laughed lightly. "She is not like that at all. She will be happy to meet you and have you be friends with both of us. And anyway, she practically lives in my dorm room with me."
"And your roommate does not mind?"
"Nyet. He is a good guy...always respectful of both me and Kitty. And truthfully, he is not often in the room anyway."
"What's his name?" Ororo said unthinkingly, just keeping the conversation going as she worked on her pottery.
"Remy Lebeau," He replied and his companion's head snapped up.
"No sir!"
"Uh, yes," Piotr replied, looking confused. "Why, do you know him?"
"Yes, I do! He assists me in the Academic Watch program!"
Piotr laughed. "Now there's someone who no one would peg for a mentor, but he's a good one, isn't he? He is very spirited in his responsibilities, but is too handsome for his own good." He leaned closer towards Ororo, dropping his voice slightly. "Do you know how many women he has following him around campus sometimes? And men too! I've never seen anything like it...often he cannot get a moment's peace. Must be the accent," he shrugged. "Sad that people here do not seem to take to the Russian accent like that!"
"Don't worry, you have other charming features that are just as endearing," His companion reassured him, and he smiled at her, but Ororo could feel her heart clenching a little in sadness. So it was true...Remy did have many suitors pursuing him. It was not incriminating evidence in itself, and not even really a huge surprise; it was just that it made Ororo even more sure that she had to keep a certain distance from the man she was so attracted to, in order to defend herself from being hurt. She quickly decided to change the subject to keep from thinking about him any further. "So I guess you may as well tell me about your other passion, since we still have several more hours ahead of us. What are the fitness classes like?"
"Oh, very interesting." Piotr returned his gaze to his work as he kept talking. "For me, I have always liked working out, since I grew up on a farm and got used to hard, physical labor. I think it's easier for me to appreciate bodybuilding than other people though, since my body type is very well-suited to that lifestyle. Of course, Sylvester Stallone was also my childhood hero, ever since I got my hands on some American movies. Perhaps it was because he seemed to have as much of a grasp on the English language as I did!" Piotr joked, and Ororo laughed.
They spent the rest of a very pleasant day working on their requirements for the class and getting to know each other. Ororo shared with him her passion for psychology, and he asked if sometime she would help him understand the finer points of his own psych textbooks, since that was one class he couldn't quite get a handle on. She, of course, agreed, and they shared secrets together, like how his girlfriend kept an illicit bearded dragon named Lockheed in his room, and how late one night, Ororo had found an open door leading up to the roof, and climbed the stairs only to be greeted with a breathtaking expansion of stars, despite the city lights. "I wish I could have seen it too," Piotr stated.
"It was very beautiful."
He shook his head. "Now I will just have to imagine it and paint it, and then show you sometime so you can tell me if I got it right." Ororo smiled and the day continued on, their conversation and handiwork set to the ever-changing music at the front of the room. The teacher had quite a variety, but seemed to enjoy Brazilian music most of all and played it often, which made it difficult not to want to get up and dance.
All too soon, it seemed, the lunch break occurred. Everyone including the professor left the room, except for Ororo and Piotr. "It is nice she left the music on," Ororo commented, shutting off her pottery wheel and making her way over to the sink to wash her hands.
"Da. You can tell she is thoughtful from the way she talks to us," Piotr answered from another washing station where he'd already been cleaning up. "Doesn't this song just make you want to dance?" He wiped his hands and began to move much more gracefully than Ororo would have thought possible. She laughed aloud as he turned in a spin, but became nervous when he gestured for her to come and join him.
"No Piotr, I would not want anyone to get the wrong idea."
"Uh, comrade, there is no one here." He stated matter-of-factly. "And who are you worried about? Kitty? She would not think anything of it. She knows I love to dance, and trust me, my heart belongs to her and only her. You do not have to be afraid because I am a man. I will not touch you disrespectfully."
His honesty made Ororo feel sheepish; she knew she had misjudged him. But that had been only part of the problem...she knew almost no dance moves at all, and her nerves got the better of her. She would hate to make a fool of herself in front of her new friend.
"So?" Piotr prompted her from her silence. "What are you waiting for?"
"I, um, I...I don't know this song," Ororo finished lamely.
"Neither do I! It will not matter. Come, and we will dance together, in honor of our new-found friendship."
Well when you put it like that, how can I refuse? Ororo crossed the room with lead feet, dreading what would come next, and hoped that no one would catch them unawares. She kept her head down towards the floor, watching his feet as he moved to the music, and worried about how she would manage to do the same.
Piotr stopped for a second and really looked at her. "Ororo, are you...nervous?" His companion began blushing profusely. "Have you ever danced before?"
"Of course I've danced before," his friend groaned. "But I have never felt that I was very good at it, and I don't really know what to do right now."
Piotr rolled his eyes, not unkindly. "Oh tovarisch, it will be okay. Here, I will help you," he smiled wide and took Ororo's hands, pulling her slightly closer to him. "Now, I will not touch your hips, in case that will make you more uncomfortable, but just move them in the same way that I am moving mine."
Ororo thanked her lucky stars for his sensitivity, then began attempting to mimic his movements. At first she seemed to be making no progress, but then Piotr directed her to close her eyes and feel the music in her bones. The song reminded her of a jungle, with many creatures making different noises, and the sun shining brightly, and the glorious day unfolding before her, and when she finally tapped into that and began moving as if she were a flower greeting the morning, she heard Piotr whoop in delight, and opened her eyes to see their bodies flowing in sync with each other.
"Do you feel it, malyshka? Is the music part of you now?"
His earnest enjoyment of her dancing with him made the experience even more delightful. This is why people like to dance, Ororo realized. It's fun! She laughed and kept moving until the song ended, even going so far as to dance around the room with Piotr.
When they both sat down to eat lunch together, Ororo marveled at how nice it was to meet someone at school who could just be a friend, and really have a connection with them. She would never have imagined she would get to know someone like Piotr, who eventually told her that his full name was Piotr Rasputin, and that his family resided in Brooklyn, New York. Ironically, their home was right near where Katherine Pryde's parents lived in the same area! "Our families are only ten blocks away from each other, but we had never met before coming to school here." Piotr shook his head as if to say, 'imagine that,' marveling at the fated coincidence of them both choosing the same New England school, and then randomly being placed in the same orientation group to meet.
"It is something to think about; that's for sure," Ororo conceded.
After another few hours in class and several shorter breaks, it was finally time to return to the dorms, but Ororo found herself reluctant to leave. Regardless, she began to gather her things and turned her cell phone back on, since she was in the habit of shutting it off in order to keep from getting distracted. Piotr saw what she was doing and asked for her number, so that he could paint her portrait sometime like he'd wanted to, and Ororo just couldn't believe it; two beautiful men had given her their phone numbers in just a few short weeks' time. College is awesome, she smiled. "Sure, no problem." As they exchanged information, Ororo was secretly glad that Remy had been the first to request her number, however, since it had kept her from acting surprised and foolish when Piotr asked for it. Remy. Ororo hadn't allowed herself to think of him again until that moment, and she suddenly wondered how he was doing. Maybe I should text him on the ride home. But would that give him the wrong idea, that maybe she was the type of girl he could easily take advantage of, since she was interested in him? Ororo wasn't sure, and thus, put the situation out of her mind as she boarded the shuttle with Piotr.
"I cannot wait to see my mishka when I get back," he told Ororo. "Eight hours without her would have been torture if it were not for you." He smiled at his new companion. "Why don't you come down to dinner with me and meet her?"
Ororo had been all set to politely decline, but then she realized both that she was starving, and that this would be an excellent opportunity to meet another potential friend. "You know what? That sounds lovely. Thank you for inviting me." If she's half as kind as he is, I'm sure I will like her very much. "I would just like to change and then I will meet you there."
They arrived back at their own college campus and Ororo returned to her dorm room. As she was fumbling into clean clothes, her phone began to ring and she saw that it was Alison. I'll call her back later, since I'm late right now, she decided, and made her way down to the cafeteria.
Piotr was not at all hard to spot since he was so tall, and as Ororo approached him, she noticed a pretty brown-haired girl standing next to him in line, laughing with him over the food choices set before them. Ororo waited until they'd gotten their plates together, then gathered her courage and went over to the couple, as ready as she'd ever be to introduce herself to a perfect stranger. Luckily, Kitty was just as friendly as Piotr had made her out to be, and she let Ororo know that her boyfriend had been telling her all about the wonderful new friend he'd made in class that day. "It's nice to be able to put a face to the name! Are you new here?" Her and Ororo got along swimmingly as they talked throughout the whole meal, along with Piotr. Kitty's brown eyes were full of laughter, and everyone that passed her table seemed to know and greet her. She was a computer science major and loved going to the arcade, which Ororo found fascinating, since she'd only been to one a single time in her life for Alison's third grade birthday party at Chuck. E. Cheese. "You've only been to an arcade once?! We have to go sometime," Kitty told her. "There are some more adult-oriented ones around here, and you would love it! We'll save some money and then we'll go." She worked on the school newspaper and offered her new companion a job copying the papers every once in awhile, if she wanted to make some extra cash. Ororo jumped at the chance and said she'd meet her there the next day for a few hours in the evening. Overall, Ororo enjoyed her meal more that night than any other she'd yet eaten at college, and returned to her dorm room with another new number in her cell phone, namely, Katherine Pryde's.
After locking her door behind her, she flopped down on her bed and marveled at how good it felt to have friends. Remy was right; you just pretend not to be nervous, and that's how you get to know people. She still couldn't believe that she'd let a complete stranger touch her hands as they molded pottery together...the previously fearful Ororo would never have been able to do that. "Of course, it helped that he was handsome as hell..." She whispered to herself, smiling.
Right then, the phone rang, and Ororo remembered that she had never called Alison back. Certain that it would be her, she instinctively answered the phone without checking the caller ID. "Hey, girl."
"Is that how you address your father?"
Ororo bolted upright and felt her blood run cold. "No – no sir. Hello. I hope you are well."
"Who were you just talking to?"
"No one. Well, I mean, Alison. I thought that it was her who was calling."
"Of course you did. That stupid girl has always tried to get you to talk like common street trash." Ororo's heart pounded with fury, but she knew better than to say anything against her father's words. "I expect that you've been upholding yourself with dignity at that school, still adhering to the parameters that I set up for you at home."
Ororo's anger continued to bristle; those "parameters" included going to sleep at 8 P.M., not speaking to teachers except when spoken to, and eating a sparse diet. "Yes, Father." She had actually done her best to break some of these, such as trying new foods each day, but old habits die hard and she'd found it difficult to exercise her new-found freedom in some ways.
"Good. You know what you can expect if you do not meet my requirements." Ororo shuddered at the tone of his voice. Yes, she remembered all too well. "I will see you at the end of the month, correct? We will go over your progress at that time, and determine if I deem you fit to return to college. You would already be gone from there if your academic advisor had not told me yesterday that you have so far been performing at the level I consider acceptable: absolute perfection."
"Yes, sir." Ororo answered meekly, thanking her lucky stars for whatever prime words Miss Grey had chosen on her account the day before.
"I am glad to see that you are still able to hold your tongue, child. I had wondered if I would have to take care of that when you returned home. It is good to see that you have not let all the ideas one hears at college corrupt your fragile mind." His daughter bit her cheeks to keep from screaming at the injustice of his words, but he would never know that over the phone. "And Ororo, don't get any notions in your head about planning out your own life while you are away at college. You and I both know that what I decide is best, and you must follow the path that I set before you."
"Yes, Father," she managed to say, but it left a bitter taste in her mouth.
"Very good. I will speak to you again soon, and the next time I call, you had better greet me properly without me having to prompt you."
It took all of Ororo's willpower to reply, "Thank you. I will." She paused and then added, "Please tell Sooraya that I miss her."
Amahl Farouk grunted. "I will tell her what I see fit to tell her. Goodbye."
"Goodbye, Father." Ororo waited until he hung up before closing the phone and setting it down. For a second she remained motionless, trying to calm herself, but it was as if all the joy from her day had been sucked away; there was nothing left for her to hold onto. Therefore, she did the only thing she knew how to do in these circumstances, and slamming her face down into her pillow, only stopped screaming when she could no longer breathe.