Chapter Two
They met every fifth period til five thirty pm of her even days. The school functioned on a ten day cycle, and Marie had three seventy minute academic classes and one free period per day. On her odd days, she took English, German IV, and History. Even days, she took Art and Design II, Biology, and Calculus.
She and Mr. Hathorne were making progress in her studies, she thought to herself as she unpacked her things. They had just begun discussing the Civil War, and it was amusing to hear his uncensored take on the whole ordeal. Outside of the classroom, he seemed to relax and speak freely, and she was getting used to his frequent cursing, and the endearments that slipped naturally from his lips.
A shadow fell over her, and she stiffened unconsciously. She raised her head, and felt everything inside her sink as Stallworth smirked down at her.
“Hey sweetheart,” he cooed mockingly, bending down to her level. “Why you sitting here, all by your lonesome?” He leaned down closer, and she shivered in disgust as his lips brushed against her ear. “Oh, I forgot,” he breathed, puffing hot air against her cheek. “Nobody cares about you.” His left hand rose, and grabbed her breast tightly, and she squeezed her eyes shut as she tried not to cry. “Maybe someday,” he whispered, “I’ll feel sorry enough to fuck you.” He squeezed her breast tightly and she opened her mouth in a silent gasp as a tear escaped her eye. “Doubt it though. Nobody wants to fu-”
“Mr. Stallworth,” barked a voice from behind him, and the boy in question quickly released Marie and turned to face the speaker. Logan stood behind him, a deadly intent in his eyes as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Would you mind explaining what you were doing to Miss D’Ancanto?”
Stallworth looked down and shuffled his feet, before looking up at his teacher. “Just…making conversation,” he mumbled.
Logan snorted, reaching out and grabbing the young man by the scruff of his neck tightly, leading him away from Marie. “More like making sexual harassment.”His grip tightened painfully on his student’s neck, and he led him away from the area. As he opened the door for Stallworth, Logan leaned in and whispered in the boy’s ear, “If you are ever seen doing anything like that to Miss D’Ancanto again, I will personally make your life a living hell.” Stallworth opened his mouth in a pained gasp as the grip on him became even firmer, if possible. “Do you understand me?”
He nodded yes, and Logan all but threw him from the room. Clenching his jaw in anger, he shut his eyes as he tried to regain a modicum of control. When he had entered the classroom to meet Marie and saw how harshly Stallworth was handling her, and heard the words he was speaking to her, he had barely been able to keep his claws from sliding out. They had, the merest fraction of an inch of adamantium sliding from between his knuckles before he fought down the urge.
Turning, he straightened his posture and made his way to the table where Marie sat. Another tear slid down her face as her eyes remained close, her lips trembling with the effort to not cry. “Hey,” he said gruffly, and swallowing, repeated himself more gently. “Hey.”
She opened her eyes and took him in. “Hi,” she whispered, and brushed away the tear tracks on her face.
“You okay?”
She nodded, and opened her book. “Let’s just…can we start?” Her cheeks were flaming in embarassment at having been caught in such a predicament by her teacher.
He gazed down at her, concern shining down from his hazel eyes. She wasn’t okay, he knew that, but if she didn’t want to talk about it, then he wouldn’t push the issue. “Okay. Let’s start.”
* * *
They were in the midst of discussing the Wilmot Proviso when the tinny tones of AC-DC interrupted their conversation. Marie blushed as she fished through her purse, pulling out a silver and black cell phone. “Sorry,” she mumbled, just before she flipped it open. “Hello?”
“Rogue?”
Logan looked up at the sound of the voice on the other end of the line. Rogue? he thought to himself.
“Scott, hey, what’s up…no, I don’t know what time it is…” Her eyes widened as she glanced at the clock on the wall. “Oh, crap…No, I know, I was supposed to call if I was going to be late…Okay. Okay, I got it. I’ll leave now. Will that make you happy, sugar?” Logan cocked an eyebrow at the endearment. Who was she talking to? Maybe a boyfriend? Feelings that felt somewhat like jealously rose within him, and he squashed them easily, knowing he couldn’t possibly feel that way towards his own student.
“Okay…okay! I’ll see you in half an hour…Alright, bye.” She shut the phone with a snap, and glanced up at him sheepishly. “Sorry about that, Mr. Hathorne. That was Scott. He’s my…brother, I guess.” She smiled a little. “It’s kinda hard to say what he is exactly just ‘cos I dunno what I am to the Professor, really.”
An unwelcomed feeling of relief swept over him, and he busied himself by looking at the clock. He swore upon seeing that it was half past six—their session had blown nearly an hour past the time it was supposed to end. “Christ, Marie,” he said, and began helping her gather her things. “I didn’t realize how late it was getting.” He cast a glance to the windows, and noted with a wry smile how dark it was. “Guess I should’ve known.”
She waved him off with unconcern, and said, “Scott just gets worried about me.” Zipping up her bag, she shook her hair out of her eyes. “I’ll see you on Monday, Mr. Hathorne.”
He gave her a small grin. “For the millionth time, Marie. You can call me Logan when we’re here.” He slung his messenger bag over his shoulder. “You heading towards the parking lot?” At her nod, he said, “I’ll come with you. Can’t have you walking all by yourself in the dark, now can we?
* * *
They were a mere fifteen yards away from her car when it happened.
Out of nearly nowhere, a bedraggled man appeared in front of them, brandishing a knife as he eyed them wildly. “Gimme your money,” he demanded, taking uneasy steps towards them.
Logan, on his part, wasn’t afraid in the slightest. Having a skeleton grafted with an indestructible alloy and a mutation with enhanced healing abilities allowed him to face the would-be mugger without pause. However, he was painfully aware of Marie shielded behind him, and knew that if she were on the receiving end of that blade, she would not be as lucky.
“Hey bub,” he tried. “I’m just trying to get the lady to her car. We don’t have any money to give you, so why don’t you just leave us alone?”
The man seemed to falter, before snarling “Bullshit” at them. “I know you gotta have some money, big guy.” He took a step closer to the two, and Logan pushed Marie further back behind him as the knife was brandished nearer to them.
“Hey, buddy,” Logan tried again. “How about you just vamoose and leave me and the girl alone?”
Frustration at his clearly failed mission filled the mugger’s eyes, and he gripped his knife tighter. “How about no,” he managed, before lunging for Logan.
Logan twisted his body away from the knife, and as the mugger pulled his hand away, grabbed his wrist. Squeezing tightly, he felt satisfaction as the mugger gasped in pain. Shoving him away, hard, he turned to get Marie when the infuriated man swung again, this time cutting Logan shallowly on his cheek. Fury thundered through his veins, and with a single punch, Logan knocked the man out cold.
Running his tongue along the inside of his mouth, he turned to Marie. She had a dazed look in her eye, and she was staring at his face. He felt the cut stitch itself back together, and saw her eyes widen as she realized what was happening. She looked into his eyes, and her face was paler than he’d ever seen. “You’re a mutant,” she whispered. She raised a hand to his face, and he saw her wince in pain.
It was then that he noticed her other hand clutching at her side. She withdrew her shaking hand, and looked down in fascinated horror at the blood blossoming against her blue shirt. Cursing violently inside his head, Logan knew what had happened. When he’d sidestepped the first blow, he had forgotten that Marie had been standing directly behind him. The stab he missed was the one she took, and her hand was crimson with her spillt blood.
“Logan,” she whispered, taking a step forward.
He barely caught her when she collapsed.