Logan hasn’t said anything to me since we got back to the mansion. Nobody has. I figure that since I’m staying here, I should make myself useful, so I’m trying to find something to do. We’re not really allowed in the main kitchen, so I can’t cook. The maids are very proud, so they won’t let me clean anything. It’s summer vacation; none of the teachers need papers graded.
I’m sitting in the den only partially paying attention to the TV. I had gone up to my room, but Bobby and Kitty were in there, so that was more than awkward. Logan didn’t think this through. I have to stay here, but that means I have to sleep in the same room.
I can’t believe I missed it. On the news, they’re showing the Golden Gate Bridge…or what’s left of it. They’ve managed to get some of it reconstructed within the past two weeks, but it looks awful. I feel a lump forming in my throat. I was a coward and left. If I had stayed, I could’ve been there with them, fighting. I could’ve seen Logan and I could’ve held him when it was over.
Maybe I could’ve absorbed Jean’s powers to stop her. And I throw a pretty good punch! I know I could’ve helped. But I wasn’t there. Hell, I even would’ve touched Magneto again if it meant I could stop the destruction. Bobby was there. Even Kitty was there. I wasn’t.
I hear the elevator door open, and Storm comes flying out. “SCOTT!” She races toward a door to my left and flings it open. “SCOTT! He’s alive! Charles is alive!”
What? Charles? Professor Xavier?! I quickly follow her into the office. She and Scott are hugging each other tightly, smiling and shedding tears of joy.
“How?” he asks, hoarsely.
“He must’ve transferred his energy before he died. I…I just got contact from Dr. MacTaggert…and-…” She stops when she notices my presence. “Rogue, will you go find Logan?”
I guess that’s her way of telling me to please leave because I’m a disgrace to mutant-kind. I nod and she turns back to Scott. I think Logan’s in his room. I climb the stairs and walk down the wide corridor lined by dormitories. The big looming doors at the end of the hallway lead to Xavier’s room. I’ve always wanted to go in there, just to see how he decorated it.
Logan’s door is shut. I knock and there’s no answer, so I let myself in. He’s got his backpack on the bed and he’s stuffing crumpled shirts into it. “I knocked…” Why did I say that?
He ignores me and continues to pack. I really want to know where he thinks he’s going, but I have other business with him right now. “Um, Logan, Storm wants to talk with you downstairs.”
No response.
“Professor Xavier’s alive.” He pauses and looks up at me. “He’s alive. I’m not sure what Storm was talking about. Something about a twin brother and mind transferring, but he’s alive.”
He briskly walks past me and out of the room. That was rude. I sigh and walk toward his bed. I cringe at the mess that he’s packed tightly into his bag. I remove all of the contents and begin to refold the shirts. My momma taught me that if you roll up shirts, they’re easier to fit in a small bag and they don’t wrinkle as badly. I press one of his flannel shirts to my nose and inhale deeply.
When I was little, my daddy would sometimes take me with him when he ran errands. Once in a while, I’d get to go with him to the smoke shop, and I remember loving the sweet, warm, suffocating, and spicy smell of the different kinds of cigars. Logan’s shirt reminds me of that scent. Logan smells like…warmth.
I find his cigar stash and put one in my mouth. Maybe someday I’ll smoke one with him. I put the cigar back, on the bottom row, and hope he doesn’t notice. He’s got a flask in here too. Whatever’s inside smells pungent and medicinal. What the hell, I’ll try it.
This stuff burns and it tastes awful. I’m getting a head rush. I screw the cap back on the silver bottle and shove it into the bag. I finish packing his things for him and tighten the leather flap. There’s an awful taste in my mouth, but strangely, I want more. I laugh a little when I think about how badly Logan could out-drink anybody. He can’t even get drunk, so it would be pretty funny to watch.
A few moments later, Logan comes back into the room, obviously worked up about something. He gives me an inquisitive look when he sees his bag. He takes off his jacket and tosses it on the bed. His plaid shirt follows. “You smell like Pike Creek, kid.”
“What?” I’m fascinated that the man standing in front of me allowed me to touch him. He’s gorgeous. I wish I could tell everyone that I’ve had him. Not supermodel Jean or exotic Storm, but me.
“The whiskey in my bag. You’ve been going through my stuff.” He doesn’t seem mad about it, though.
“I’m sorry. I thought I’d get your things ready for wherever you’re going.”
“Well, that trip’s on hold right now. We’re gonna get Xavier. Cyclops went to get the jet ready right now. They’ve transported him to a hospital in Washington, DC.”
“Oh…” This is a lot for me to absorb. Suddenly, Professor Xavier is back. Does that mean everything is going to be okay? I know I have no right to ask if I can go, but I still do it. “Can I come?”
The look he gives me makes me want to cry. It confirms all of my fears. “No, you need to stay here. We’ll be back…”
He walks out into the hallway and I want to call out to him, so badly, but my words are lodged in my throat. I heave myself onto the bed and plant a pillow over my face. This sucks.
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