“He said he’ll be back by next week.”
That wasn’t consoling enough. Not for me. Apparently, no one else is concerned about him in the least. Last month, when Professor Summers failed to contact the school for four consecutive days after he left for Toronto, everyone was alarmed and didn’t rest till they heard from him and the Professor personally assigned Storm to go looking for him should he not communicate with them within the following two days. But now, another person, who is equally worthy of being cared about, has been gone for almost a month, yet everyone goes on with their work as usual as if nothing out of order has happened.
The same should be said as far as I’m concerned, too. When I haven’t showed up at dinner, someone, at least one of the students, must’ve noticed it. I have to confess myself surprised at the fact that Professor Grey didn’t send someone to drag me back to school already. Some telepath she must be, if she can’t concentrate enough and locate where I am at the moment…
The subway is getting pretty much crowded, but that shouldn’t cause anything problematic unless I reveal my face entirely by letting down the hood of my sweater. And even if I do that, I highly doubt anyone would recognize me, given that I hardly associate with anyone outside the school and would therefore be a stranger to almost all the people aboard. But I’m going to keep up my hood until I get down. Just in case.
On my right, a lady, professionally dressed in a grey suit, is busy compiling some sort of documents she has taken out from her briefcase. She has smiled at me swiftly before sitting down, and even looked at me once or twice in a curious way, probably to get a clear view of my half concealed face. The person seated to my left, however, was making me feel uneasy ever since he got in at the last station.
He had on many layers of clothing, just like me, and his face was likewise hidden beneath a baseball cap he wore so low. I couldn’t tell exactly where he has been looking at when he got in, primarily because he was wearing shades, but I got a distinct feeling that he was staring at me in a confused sort of way. I did think of Mistique at first, disguised in an attempt to capture me once again, but except for that unfriendly stare he shot at me when entering the apartment I’m in, he hasn’t done anything indicative of wanting to seize me. If it was her, she’s had ample of time to take hold of me by now.
I’ve been keeping an eye on him too, something I’ve learnt from Kurt, as it is best to be on alert around someone whose behavior has proven to be suspicious. Somehow, his features, the most I could see of them anyway, bore a resemblance to someone I know, though I can’t exactly recall who that someone is. Since ten or so minutes ago, he has made no movement at all, and from the awkward angle his head was tilted, I was able to make out that he’s sleeping.
Either that or he’s feigning it.
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