“Logan, please!”
“No.”
“Come on! You can’t do this to me!”
“I can and I will. You bunk with your mom tonight.”
“Why can’t I sleep in your room? There are two beds.”
“Because. Besides, it was your idea to bring her along. I’d book you another room if there were any left.”
“Please? I’m sick and tired of her nagging and questioning. I bet KGB would be proud of having her in its ranks.”
“Is that a way to talk about your mother?”
“Logan!”
“Come on, it’s just one night. It can’t be that bad.”
“Call Magneto and tell him he can come and pick me up from that diner across the street.”
“That bad?”
“Yes.”
“Uh… Kid. I’d really like to help you out, but your mom already has me flagged down as some sort of pervert. Wouldn’t want her to sic half of the army and state troopers at me.” And I really, really could use some private time. On our way here we shared rooms. Couldn’t get much sleep. Can’t sleep when there’s another person in the same room.
“You’re afraid of my mom?” That does it.
“Go get your stuff. Here’s the key. I’m going to take a shower.”
Long one. I’m so fucking tired, dirty and cold. Cold. Funny. Earlier today I was sweating bullets in that stupid monkey suit. Lost more blood than I thought. Still feel little wobbly. And why the fuck do they have to have bathtubs in every fucking room? Tried to ask one without it. No luck. Of course I could take a bath. Some people say it’s relaxing. I could. There’s no lid in this tub. There’s no lid in any real bathtub. I don’t think the one in the lab had either. That part of my dream is so fucked up that it’s hard to tell if it’s real or not.
“Logan? You in there?”
“Yeah. Why?” Don’t tell me you have to pee. I’m not getting up from here now. Water’s just the right temperature.
“Can I… Is it okay if I come in to brush my teeth? I won’t peek, I promise.” Oh, for fuck’s…
“Fine. Door’s open.”
“Thanks. I’m so tired that I wouldn’t have probably stayed awake long enough for you to come out.”
“Your mom?”
“Pissed off. But I made her promise not to call to police. You were right. She actually… Ugh.” Nice shiver, kid. Lost your bra already?
“Told you. She’s worried.”
“What about you? How do you feel?” Huh? Should I be worried about something?
“I’m not worried.”
“Duh! You’re awfully pale. Are you sure you’re alright? Should we call to professor and ask them to pick us up with the Blackbird?”
“I’m fine. I just need some sleep.” Which I won’t be having tonight. Thanks to you. Hey, wait a second!
“You promised not to peek.”
“I’m not peeking. I’m ogling.” Yeah? And that’s supposed to make it okay?
“I’m naked in here, kid.”
“I don’t mind.” Well, I do.
“Brushed your teeth already?”
“Yeah.”
“Get the fuck out of here, then. And close the door.”
“Logan, could you turn the voice down? I can’t sleep.” There’s a bed for you next-door kid. Make two people happy and go there to sleep.
“Okay.”
“Aren’t you going to sleep?” Nope.
“Yeah. I’ll just check hockey stats and weather broadcast.”
“Right. You’re watching weather broadcast. The fact that that chick has less than nothing on when she shows those charts has nothing to do with your sudden interest with weather…” Huh?
“Which channel? I have seen only the old bald and grumpy guy and even older hag wearing clothes she probably stole from Salvation Army.” There’s a naked weather girl somewhere?
“Logan! Turn off the TV and go to sleep. I’m not driving tomorrow because you’re too tired to stay awake after jerking off and drooling after Kate the weather girl all night.”
“If I weren’t this tired, I would fucking throw you out.”
“No, you wouldn’t. I’m naked under here.”
“Jesus. Kid… Marie… Don’t you think you’re putting little too much faith in me?”
“No.” Well, that was a stupid question anyway. Coming from a guy with afephobia. Yeah. Afephobia. Fear of touching. Looked it up from a dictionary. Don’t know if it really describes me, but it was the closest description of my symptoms I could find. Phobia it is. There’s no real reason I should be afraid of her. She’s not looking to hurt me. Yet every time she comes within two-meter radius from me I just want to bolt off screaming.
“How about you? How do you feel?” Since I’m not allowed to drool after Kate, have to find something else to keep me occupied.
“I wasn’t the one who got stabbed through the gut.”
“Yeah. You were. From behind. Just like me. Are you sure you don’t want me to chop him up?”
“Who? Bobby? Logan, no. Let him be. It wasn’t his fault.”
“Wasn’t his fault? Christ! Guy pretends to be in love with you for nearly two years, then suddenly dumps you like a sack of potatoes over some other guy, and it isn’t his fault?” She’s too forgiving for her own good. Or a good liar.
“I don’t think he pretended anything. He was just confused. Just like I was for a long time after I met you and we moved in to Xavier’s.” Confused?
“That’s what it was? Confusion? All that blushing and giggling?”
“Logan, come on! What kind of a girl I would have been if I hadn’t had a crush to my knight in shining adamantium?”
“Smart one. I’m no fucking knight.”
“No. I guess you’re not. But I didn’t know better back then.” And what the hell is that supposed to mean?
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