Want to hear something I’ve learned?
Life isn’t fair and too often things are in flux, yadda, yadda. But sometimes, just sometimes, the optimists of this world get to have good days.
This was a good day, and it was going to be a good night, too.
Security really was the best of the best. Earlier in the week, we’d successfully thwarted three separate attempts to smuggle explosives into the hotel’s boiler room, which was two stories directly underneath the ballroom we’d reserved for the dinner. And even with those small victories, nothing was left to chance. Metal detectors at every entrance, barricades, heavy surveillance, rehearsed escape routes, extensive background checks for all guests and staff, legions of Secret Service men stationed inside and outside the perimeter, an on-site bomb squad, X-Men – the works. We were prepared for anything.
After dinner and the first round of endorsement speeches and pledges, the guests left their seats to mingle and dance. Nonchalantly sipping water from a wine glass, I kept a vigilant eye on the four key attendees: President McKenna, Professor Xavier, Representative Reis-Steeves, and Mystique.
We were supporting the reelection of Mystique-as-Senator Kelly only because her opponent was Edward Damschroder, an anti-mutant Democrat from Ohio. What’s more, there was much to be lost and nothing to be gained by exposing her.
The upcoming congressional elections, though important, were not the focus of discussion. Representative Katherine Reis-Steeves, the House minority leader from Massachusetts, had stolen the show when she’d announced her candidacy for the Democratic presidential nomination in 2016 at a press conference earlier that day. Her work on the Equal Rights for Mutants Act had already made her one of the Professor’s greatest political allies; this news only further emphasized her importance to the cause, and was probably going to make her daughter somewhat of a celebrity around the school.
I paused a little before passing Nicole and her fidgety boyfriend, unable to believe that the thirteen year-old little girl who’d sat under my thinking tree and occasionally suffered my emotions was now eighteen and a full inch taller than me.
“Travis, please calm yourself,” she implored. “When you’re nervous, it makes me nervous.”
“Nervous? I’m not nervous. What do I have to be nervous about? Your stepdad’s been sending me death glares all night, your mom thinks I’m less than functionally retarded, and no one in the this good goddamn world gives a flying fuck about our demo record.” Flea swiped his long blond bangs out of his eyes. “My life’s just peachy. Really.”
I snorted loudly.
Turning, Nicole greeted me with a wry smile. “Quite a vulgar little mouth on him, huh?”
“Like she cares. She’s not a hall monitor. She’s not gonna tattle on me. Not like last time.”
“Our feud’s over, child. No need to be antagonistic.”
“What, you wanna fight?” Flea menaced unconvincingly, stepping into my personal space.
Recognizing the danger there, I backpedaled a couple of inches. “Careful. Man, what is it about you that makes it necessary to test my limits?”
“If you asked Nicole’s mom, she’d probably say the retarded part.”
“That is both rude and untrue. My mother is an extremely fair woman. She would never presume make snap judgments -- ”
I cleared my throat loudly, indicating with a couple discreet motions of my chin that her mother was striding swiftly in our direction.
“Dearest,” Representative Reis-Steeves said with only a hint of censure, “You’re somewhat loud.”
Nicole went a little pink. “Sorry, mom.”
“There are an awful lot of people in here. They’re not overwhelming you, are they?”
“No, I’m okay.”
“Good.” Smiling, she rested a hand on Flea’s shoulder for a moment. “Why don’t you join us over here? You too, Rogue. You’ve been working hard enough.” As we walked, she put one arm around my waist. “It’s been awhile since I’ve seen you. How have you been?”
“Fine,” I replied, trying to cover my unease. I’d only really talked to her on three separate occasions; she was just one of those people who treated every acquaintance like an intimate friend. A politician through and through, she also had a keen memory for detail.
“Professor Xavier tells me you’re leaving us. Now, the last time we spoke you said you loved it here in Washington.”
“Oh, I do, I do. I just, you know – Time for a change of venue, I guess.”
“You want to go out and experience new things. That’s certainly understandable.” Winking, she added, “I was young once, too.”
Laughing with her, I decided that it would be very difficult to dislike Katherine Reis-Steeves. She had that soccer-PTO-mom quality about her that made me think of Jell-O wobblers, the rhythmic pluck of a piano, and freshly cut flowers. More succinctly, she reminded me of my own mother in better days.
Maybe it was the optimism talking, but I knew even then that she was going to win the heart of America.
Once we were standing in front of Mr. Steeves, the Professor, and an irked-looking Logan, she gave me a pat before letting me go. “Daniel, you remember Rogue D’Ancanto.”
“Yes, of course,” he replied, shaking my gloved hand. I’d only met him once. He’d been there the day Doran Ray Mills had attempted to assassinate President McKenna. Steeves was immaculately groomed rather than handsome, and was one of those men who had that triple-threat aura of wealth, power, and prestige around them. “It’s nice to see you again. Mr. Howlett was just telling us a little bit about his recent work in Vietnam.”
“Whoa, you have a last name,” Flea remarked to Logan, genuinely surprised.
The Professor mirrored my amusement at Flea’s astonishment over something that was normally so customary. Even Logan had to lighten up at that one.
Good old Flea. He’d turned out useful in the end.
The party continued, turning more Great Gatsby-uptown soirée by the minute. I danced with Bobby, for old time’s sake, and Kurt when he wasn’t with Storm, and Scott, too.
I really do think there’s a crazy mixed up world out there where Jean’s alive and with Logan and I’m this whole other person in love with Scott. Hell, there’s probably a world where I’m in love with Bobby still, or John even, or Jubilee. The thought of so many unexplored possibilities would’ve made me uncomfortable just two weeks ago, but I got it now. There’s no such thing as fate and identities aren’t fixed.
We’re free.
Midnight came and went. Logan – the man who I love in this life and will continue to love more as time propels us ever forward – strategically kept to the opposite side of the room.
Everything wound down after that. When the last guest was securely whisked away from the hotel, Scott came over to tell me I’d done a great job. He went back with the Mansion with the Professor and everybody; Logan and I took the car back to the apartment.
Inside, I made a bee-line for the record player. Frank Sinatra, I’ve Got the World on a String.
Logan came up behind me to help me out of my wrap and gloves. Turning, I drew my bare fingertips up along the nape of his neck. “I believe I won a bet.”
“Yeah,” he admitted, hands caressing the sides of my face. “But I object to the terms. I don’t dance.”
“Bullshit,” I said. “I know your secrets, Logan.” I taped my temple. “You taught me to swing dance.”
He gave in and swayed to the music with me, though he threw in a half-hearted protest. “You’re gettin’ me confused, darlin’.”
I raised an eyebrow at him. “Well, it sure as hell wasn’t Magneto.”
No chuckle. He seemed to consider something.
“What?”
“You made a joke about what it’s like inside your head.”
I smiled. “Hey, I did do that, didn’t I? That’s a good sign.” I started a swing step and he followed suit almost unconsciously. Big liar. I knew it. Smile at full wattage, I said, “It’s like Play-Doh, by the way. Inside my head.”
“Play-Doh?”
“Yeah. A little too malleable, but with a little creativity I can sculpt some pretty great things out of it.”
He twirled me around and dipped me low. I tiled my head back, enjoying the dizzying feeling of love – complicated, deep, and real. My instinct was to close my eyes, to imprint the moment, but I knew there would be a hundred more like it. So I kept my attention on Logan’s face and got to watch the lopsided, rakish smile erase the lines from his face.
There’s a lot to be said for living your life with eyes wide open.