Fuck. Fuckety-fuck. Two days ago she went missing. Run off. Left a letter to professor, telling she needed some time for herself. I can’t sleep. I can’t sit still. I can’t eat, I can’t do jack shit because there’s no way of telling if she will bounce on me from behind the next corner and get herself skewered! And whom did they send after her? Take a wild guess. You probably won’t get it right for the first time, I’ll give you couple of chances. Nope. It isn’t me. Which would have made things hell of a lot easier. No. It’s not Bobby, which would have made perfect sense. He’s her boyfriend, for Christ’s sakes! No and no. Of all the people around here they sent Scott Summers. The boy wonder who wouldn’t find his own arse even if he tried with his both hands.
When I asked about it from the professor, he told me they thought it was the best if Scott went. That Bobby and I were emotionally too involved. Bobby? Definitely. Froze the whole dining hall when he first heard that she was missing. Me? Probably. There’s a good and well-deserved spanking waiting once Scooter hauls her back here. After that, if she’s still breathing that is, she will be grounded for the rest of her life. She will spend last of her years locked in to her room. Diet of hers will consist pancakes and pizza. Only things flat enough to slide in from under the door.
Fuck. I know she’s out there. She’s coming back as soon as she gets her head sorted out. Professor and Scott really shouldn’t intervene. I could of course go after her on my own. Give her a ride to somewhere. That way I would know where she is and I could relax. Someone is bound to get hurt soon. I’m too wound up.
First things first. I have to find out where she went. I know she gave some bogus intel to prof in her letter, he wouldn’t have sent Scott if he truly knew where she went. No help from that direction. I doubt she told her friends where she was heading. They’re good kids, but not the smartest puppies in the litter. They would cough up her whereabouts to first person asking for it.
“Everybody out.” Yeah. That means you two. Jubes and Kitty. Brats sharing the room with her.
“What’s going on?” Kitty. You’re sweet kid, but if you don’t phase that ass of yours out of here at this instant I will hand it to you on a silver platter.
“Out. Now.” I need to concentrate. Don’t need extra pair of eyes peering over my shoulder while I go through Marie’s stuff.
Hour later. Three assorted piles of knickknacks. Girl-stuff, everyday-stuff and her stuff. Most promising pile being the latter. Found them from the bottom of her closet, from a locked box. Postcards, obviously bought from a store, never meant to be sent away. A travel guide about sights in Alaska. A journal, written with her handwriting. Haven’t read it yet, but looks like it’s a some sort of travel plan. Everything she was going to do once she got to where she was going. And the most interesting item of them all, a buss-ticket. Not just any buss-ticked. She probably had paid a hefty sum for it. Valid for two months in most of the long-distance liners.
Stuff she obviously meant to take with her when she left.
Fuck.
Some fucker beat me to it.
She obviously wasn’t going willingly.
Only few questions remain.
Who took her?
Where?
Is she still alive?
She’s alive all right. Bodily unharmed. Working in a small diner. Living in a small apartment above that diner. And has lost her memory.
No wonder professor and Scott haven’t been able to find her. If I have understood correctly, Cerebro they’re using to locate her is searching brain patterns. Memory-trails of sorts. Something or someone has altered hers. She didn’t even recognize me when I walked in and ordered a cup of coffee. Didn’t even bat her lashes, just asked if I had cream and sugar with it. Chatted with her briefly, mostly about things happening in this shithole, and people passing through.
I can’t say that I’m not tempted to ride out of here and leave her be. She seems contended. Adjusted. Right at home behind that counter, pretty little apron wrapped around her waist. People seem to genuinely like her, which is more than I can say about folks back home.
Don’t get me wrong. She wasn’t shunned. She wasn’t abused. Nobody tried to take privileges with her. They just didn’t know what to do with her. How the hell do you cope with a kid that can fucking suck the whole world dry? She had friends. They were just that. Friends. Casual acquaintances. She had teachers. Xavier even adopter her when it became clear that her real parents wanted nothing to do with her. Yet she was alone. There was nobody close to her. Nobody she could rely. Nobody she could trust and put her fait in to when everything became too much to bear.
We are all too big cowards to let her get too close.
“Bella.” Wonder who picked up her name. Suits fine. All that creamy skin and brown hair, slender figure. Dress ending just above her knees made out of cotton with miniscule white and pink squares printed on it, covered from waist down with white apron. Sensible white shoes.
“Logan! I thought you were leaving yesterday! What can I get you?” That smile. I actually have missed it.
“Coffee and pancakes. Yeah. I was leaving, but something came up. Have to stay for couple of days more.”
“One coffee and pancakes coming up shortly. Anything else?”
“You wouldn’t have today’s paper?”
“Local okay with you?”
“Just fine.”
Coffee’s good. Pancakes even better. Paper? Just a sorry excuse to get an opening for a longer conversation. There’s always a possibility that this all is just a show to throw me off-guard. Have to find out if she has lost her memory for real.
“So… Little league?”
“Come on, Logan! Every town has one!” Again that smile, though now it looks slightly annoyed. She’s right at home all right. Defending this cruddy shithole like she was born here.
“Sorry, just looked like there wouldn’t be enough kids to form a team, let alone whole league…”
“Hmph… I know. It’s sad. But I think things are going to get better. New people are moving in every day. Young people. Couples planning to have kids.” Look around, darling. Only young people around here are you and that cook.
“It’s good to hear. How about you? Planning to contribute to the common cause?”
“Excuse me?” Don’t bat those lashes. You know what I’m talking about.
“You and hubby dearest. Already have a kid? Any plans to have one?” Blushing.
“Uh… No.”
“No?”
“Actually, there’s nobody… I live alone.” Hmm… That’s good to hear. Makes things easier.
“You’re shitting me. A good looking broad like you?” More blushing. Heck. Could make a game out of this.
“It’s… It’s complicated. But thanks… For the compliment.”
“Wasn’t a compliment. It’s the truth.” Jesus. Have to ease down a bit. She’ll pop an artery soon if I keep going like this.
“You’re not from around here.” I know that, but do you remember?
“No. I came from New York. Finished my studies there and decided to take a road-trip. Stopped here to get some gas to my truck and fell in love to this place.” Uh-huh… Really? And where is that truck of yours? Why is it still sitting in Xavier’s garage?
“What about your folks? What did they think about you moving out here all alone?”
“They… They died few years ago… A car-accident.” And we have a winner! She knowingly told me a complete lie!
Someone messed with her head, that’s for sure. Did a shitty job. Didn’t bother to alter her whole memory. Just blocked out unwanted sections. Why? Why the fuck you would screw up a kid like that? Okay, makes my life easier. She’s not a threat as long as she doesn’t remember who I am. But fuck… It’s not right. Who ever it was, they had no right to take away her life. No right.
Best thing to do would be probably take her back home. Xavier could probably help her. Take off those blocks. Maybe find the one who’s responsible for putting them in her head. But do I really want that? Wouldn’t it be the best for us all if she stayed here, living her life and not bothering me? And wouldn’t it bother me? To know she was out here alone? Half of her life wiped away?
Decisions, decisions… Why the fuck did I have to find her? Had I stayed home and minded my own business, I wouldn’t be sitting here. I wouldn’t be watching her scurrying around, wiping tables and pouring coffee. I wouldn’t be feeling so fucking guilty about abandoning her.
“Chuck? Yeah, it’s me. I won’t be coming back anytime soon… No. Everything’s all right. I’m just taking some time-off… Yeah. Have some things to take care of.”
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Author's Chapter Notes:
This one grew a plot to back it up. Quite desperate bunny, if you ask from me.