Even though Logan was gone, it still felt like he was with me. There was consolation in that fact, but it made his physical absence all the more painful. The simple memory of pressing my cheek against his bare chest caused my throat to clench.
I’d like to say that my missing him didn’t stop me from living my life, but that would be a lie. Really all I was doing was waiting. Things around the school changed here and there. More teachers were hired, more students enrolled. Classes got harder, rescue missions got more frequent.
At first, it was jarring to have to alter so many of the little routines I was used to. I trained with Storm now, mostly focusing on practical matters like piloting the Blackbird. It was Bobby, Kitty, Jubilee, Peter, Keller, and me for the longest time, until Keller started dating Sierra Berlanti and I started leaving myself out of a lot of group activities. Instead, I took over Logan’s monopolization of the Danger Room, read more books, and spent more time with Kurt. I wasn’t bouncing off the walls with exuberant joy, but I honestly wasn’t depressed. No one seemed to believe that, though.
“You think I could sleep like this, Anna Marie?” Kurt asked me jovially one afternoon a full nine months after Logan had left. Kurt was hanging by his tail from the rafters directly above my head like a giant, blue, wingless bat dressed in a white dress shirt and slacks.
I tilted my head back and smiled up at him because that was the reaction he was looking for. “I don’t know. You might fall.”
“Ach, you insult me. I’m perfectly at ease this way. It’s good for my posture.”
Ruefully, I straightened up from my slouch. I turned my attention back to grading the German I multiple-choice tests and berating myself for not being able to understand even the simplest directions.
Accompanied by the requisite “bamf” noise, Kurt appeared beside me in a smoky blue haze. Jumping into a back flip, he ended up in a one-arm handstand, balancing on the edge of the desk I was working on. “Ta-da,” he announced, flipping back to his feet.
Clapping appreciatively, I laughed as he bowed in mock humility.
His eyes sparkled with mischief. “Would you like to try it yourself?”
The offer caught me off guard. “I…It would hurt you.”
“No matter.” He stuck out his three-fingered hand, adding as an incentive, “I’ll teach you my best tricks.”
Guiltily, I peeled off my long glove and stood up to take his hand. Slow and easy, I chided myself. But it was impossible to concentrate on just his power. His trusting nature left everything open. For a moment, I saw myself standing there through his eyes. That scared me into jerking back. Seeing that he was teetering on his feet, I pulled my chair around so he could sit down.
“Dank.”
“Es tut mir leid,” I apologized.
His eyes opened wide. “What did you – ” Gasping, he cut himself off.
“What’s wrong,” I inquired, my skin itching uncomfortably. My eyes followed my fingers to my bare arm as I scratched. The skin there darkened and changed color under my gaze. “Whoa.” I rubbed the back of my hand, half-expecting the blue to smear like paint. Hardly realizing what I was doing, I bamfed through the open door to Kurt’s room and then into the bathroom. “Oh, wow.” My reflection in the mirror was eerily altered. My eyes and teeth were the same; they just looked different against my glittering, navy blue skin.
“Anna Marie, are you all right?” Kurt asked me from outside the bathroom.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I answered, coming out of the open door. I was slightly shaken but unwilling to let on. “Nothing like this has ever happened before. It’s pretty awesome.”
Kurt visibly relaxed. “You think so?”
“Ja.” I frowned. “Spreche ich Deutsch?”
“Sehr gut,” Kurt complimented, and then ruined it by joking, “Es ist ein Wunder.”
I almost was offended, until I remembered how bad my German usually was. “Yeah, it is kind of a miracle.”
There must’ve been some biological advantage to blue skin because, unlike the bamfing power that lasted only a half hour or so, it took close to three and a half days for the blue pigmentation to fade. It was strange how easily I got used to it, but it took others by surprise.
“Oh my God, you’re blue,” was Flea’s astonished response when we almost ran into each other in the hallway outside the library.
I narrowed my eyes at him, smirking, “Good call, Sherlock.”
As I walked away, I heard Nicole smack him on the arm and say, “You are such a jerk. And you wonder why Laurel doesn’t want to be in the band with you.”
“No, hey, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just, she’s not normally blue, you know?”
“You’re always mean to her for no good reason. Grow up,” Nicole shot back, echoing the universal cry of women everywhere.
I didn’t stick around for the rest of the conversation, but later that day I got another mix slid under my door. The note attached read, “Don’t mind me and my big, fat mouth. I’m a worthless flea. Travis Ryan.” I popped in the CD and laughed because the first song was The Ramones, “Beat on the Brat.” Along the same vein, track two was “Sympathy for the Devil” by The Rolling Stones. As I had suspected, the third track was “Mississippi Queen.”
Taking the library’s copy of Kate Chopin’s The Awakening off my desk, I settled in for a relaxing Friday with a classic novel, some great music, and a pack of mini-Oreos.
My door flung open of its own accord. “Hello, hello,” Keller enthused, striding into my room, all grins and angular features. “Don’t you look Smurf-tastically beautiful this fine afternoon.” The book flew out of my hands and landed bouncily on my mattress. “Definitely too pretty to stay at home.”
“Let me guess. You and Sierra are on the rocks again, and you need a fill-in date.”
Keller was horrified. “How dare you find me predictable. As a matter of fact, Sierra and I are madly in love, yadda, yadda, yadda. Copyright of Hallmark.”
“No you’re not.”
“Okay, so we’re not. But we know how to go out and have a fun time. You remember fun.”
“I remember you being annoying a lot, but the rest is kind of hazy,” I retorted, reaching my hand into the package of Oreos.
“Aw, you’re like Cookie Monster, only your eyes aren’t all googly and on the top of your head.”
“Ha, ha. I’m blue. Funny. Get over it.”
“The ribbing is part of being a minority, as temporary as it may be for you. Go ahead, try an Arab joke. Or, hey, I’m also half-Irish and short. Would you laugh at a wee leprechaun dance?”
“Go away,” I sighed grandly, not bothering to point out that just being a mutant made me a minority.
“Afraid I can’t. I am here on official X-Men business. We, meaning all of us, have just scored the best mission ever. One week’s paid vacation in sunny southern California. The City of Angels, to be precise. So let’s get to packing, little girl. We leave now.”
So much for relaxing.
“I hate to spoil your excitement, but if the Professor is sending us there on such short notice then that means something’s up. This is not a vacation.”
“Well, okay, so we do have to look into some minor disturbances around the Brentwood school, but it’s just teenagers with too much power and not enough discipline. Kid’s stuff. We crack the whip, ship them back here if necessary, and we’re golden.” Eyes focused, he telekinetically opened my closet doors, rolled out my suitcase, and began filling it with perfectly folded clothes.
“Keller, you amaze me.”
“No, it’s Dr. McCoy who’s amazing. He’s been helping me increase my power with that Power Boost stuff. Just a little bit, though. Nothing dangerous. And, er, not enough to make me furry. He’s too careful for that. For real though, I don’t know how any of us would function around here without him. It’s the little things, you know? The medicine, the serums, the gadgets. He makes life so much easier.”
“That’s true. If it weren’t for his little anti-metal detector chip, Logan wouldn’t be able to fly commercial.”
“Still no word from ’Nam?” Keller inquired, his tone carefully neutral.
I flinched inwardly, wishing I hadn’t slipped and brought up Logan. It never failed to make people feel sorry for me. Casually as possible, I replied, “We can’t really expect it. It’s tough to get reception in the middle of the jungle. He’s fine, though. He can take care of himself.”
“Of course he can,” Keller agreed a little too readily, finishing up with my clothes. “I’ll let you pack your feminine unmentionables.”
“Thanks,” I snickered, getting out of bed and heading into my bathroom.
A thirty minute briefing and fifteen minute drive later, I once again found myself at the entrance to Westchester County Airport in White Plains.
“Here’re the tickets,” Cyclops said, handing them over to Bobby and giving him some extra instructions.
As always, Cyclops was putting Bobby in charge. It was such a natural thing that I never questioned it at first, but ever since Keller, Jubilee, Peter, and Kitty became full-fledged X-Men, it had become apparent to me that, despite being an X-Man for longer, I was an afterthought in all of Cyclops’s careful, strategic planning. Even so, he made sure I trained twice as hard as everyone else. A team’s only as strong as it’s weakest link, and he thought that link was me. Man, did that ever burn.
Already privately irritated by that, it made the stares I got even more aggravating. Just being a mutant was one thing; being an obvious mutant was quite another. Unsurprisingly, my bags were checked more extensively than anybody else’s in line and, on board, the stewardesses kept a wary eye on me since obvious mutants were seen as the extreme terrorists of the mutant community.
Pointedly ignoring everyone else – including my friends – I buried my nose in The Awakening and didn’t look up until we had to get off at O’Hare to get on the connecting flight to Los Angeles. I slept the whole way to LAX
Sullen, withdrawn – Dare I say emo? Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew I was stretching the definition of “fine” to its limits.