"Are you sure about this?" Scott asks, pulling on the hem of my carefully selected black crop top. "Isn't it a bit... Suggestive?"
"I like it." I state, guiding his hands down to my hips, away from the top. "It gets really hot when you're dancing."
"But what if guys get the wrong idea?" His expression is one of worry.
"They won't." I kiss him quickly. "We're going out to celebrate getting back together, so I'm guessing I probably won't leave your arms most of the time."
"I'm not sure clubbing is a good idea, now that I think about it. I mean, you still don't have complete control of your abilities, what if something happened?" I step back from him slightly, before flicking my hair and feeling the familiar warmth return. Ahh, I've missed this. Although creating the flames in the subtle way Bobby has been teaching me is more convenient, it's more difficult and nowhere near as powerful. I let my hand collect a large ball of flames as it runs through my hair. I then flick my wrist towards Scott casually.
"What the-" He stumbles backwards in surprise. I stop the flames before the touch him.
"I think you underestimate my powers, Mr Summers." I turn my hand slowly and watch as the flames twist around his body at my command, encasing him in a cage of fire.
"You know, I really don't feel comfortable with this." Scott calls over the roar of the flames. I laugh, before spreading my palms and ordering the flames to return to me with my thoughts. They do immediately. I then take a few strong breaths and let the fire in my hair retract too.
"Never do that again." Scott pants, obviously slightly freaked out. I giggle.
"Sorry." I kiss him quickly as an apology. "But, like I said, you really underestimate me sometimes."
"Okay. So you have pretty good control!" He laughs. "But don't get cocky. Setting your boyfriend on fire is not the best way to say 'I love you'!"
"Fine," I sigh, emphasizing my obvious sarcasm. "I love you. Is that better?"
"Much." He wraps his strong arms around my waist in the now more than familiar way that makes me feel so at home. "I love you too."
"Now are we going out or what?" I ask excitedly, breaking the romantic moment.
He sighs heavily. "Do we have to?"
"But you promised!" I whine, pouting like a child.
"Fine, fine!" He says, dismissively.
"Thank you!" I kiss him.
"Okay, I'm gunna try really hard not to think about the kind of guys you've met here." Scott states when we pull up outside one of mine and Sara's favourite party destination.
"Oh, relax, Cyclops!" I kiss him on the cheek. "Don't be so jealous!"
"You know, I have noticed you only call me that at certain points." He raises his eyebrows at me.
"Cyclops is my possessive, moody boyfriend, who doesn't understand this thing called 'fun'. Scott is my sweet, romantic, relaxed love who I enjoy spending time with immensely." I explain matter-of-factly, before winking at him cheekily.
"Wait. Are you saying you don't-"
"I'm saying," I cut him off. "Relax and have some fun, Scott."
"Yeah, I'm not sure that's a good idea." He mumbles.
"Scott!" I exclaim. Why is he being so moody? "I'm being serious! You promised we could have fun at least once a week - normal, seventeen year old student fun!"
"I know. I'm sorry." He cuts off the engine and we exit the car.
"Come on." I take his hand. "It'll be fun!"
"You'd tell me a one-on-one training session with Warren would be fun if you wanted me to do it." He smirks to himself at his comment.
"Who says it wouldn't?" I laugh.
"I think 'awkward' would be an understatement." The music grows louder as we progress towards the club.
"If you guys gave each other a chance, I think you could be really good friends." It's true. When they work together within the team, they can do some pretty amazing things. That was proven that night they rescued me from the cube of water.
"Hmm." Is the only reply I get, showing me that he knows I'm right.
Upon entering the club I am immediately struck by how strange this place with different company. I'd never usually bother to observe my surroundings when I came here with Sara. We were there to dance, drink and have fun, what did it matter what the surroundings were? But somehow, Scott seems to make me more aware of every sound, sight and smell that surrounds us. I notice the girls dancing provocatively on the platforms and can't help myself from judging them, yet just a few months ago, that was me and Sara. Is this how people viewed us? The smell of stale sweat is almost repulsive, and I am forced to ask myself how I've never noticed it before. The music is far too loud - so much so that I feel a slight stab of pain where the vibrations flow over my still healing gunshot wound. Yet, despite all of these negatives, I still feel the undeniable pull of the atmosphere. This place is so addictive. I can't help but feel the immediate confidence that emanates from my body when I'm here. Clubs are the kind of places where I can relax, let my hair down, so to speak. I feel free here. Sexy, confident and free. I feel the tug of temptation and submit to it, tightening my grip on Scott's hand and dragging him to the dance floor.
"Woah!" He exclaims, but continues to follow me. "What are we doing?"
"Dancing, silly!" I laugh and begin to move my hips in the clichéd, feminine way that I am expected to. Scott looks unbelievably awkward.
"I need a drink." He sighs, making me laugh more.
"Are you bowing down to fun, Mr Summers?" I ask in mock surprise.
"No, I just think I need something to take my mind off this place." He shrugs. "Well, this place and the fact that I can't dance."
I giggle. "Stay here."
"No, no, no!" He takes my arms as I begin to walk towards the bar. We have to shout over the loud, intrusive beat of the music. "What if-"
"Scott," I say his naming in a warning tone. "You promised not to treat me like a child. The bar is like ten feet away, how bad can it get?"
"Okay, but straight there and back." I don't reply. Instead, I opt to walk away and ignore the fact that that specific comment was still kind of a way of Scott treating me like a child.
Once I reach the bar, I am served almost immediately. That's one of the benefits of being a girl in a provocative top! I lean casually against the bar as the bartender mixes our drinks beside me.
"Hey." A firm, male voice with a strong Australian twang to it speaks up behind me. I sigh. Scott is not gunna like this! I turn to face the guy behind me.
He is relatively tall, but does not quite reach the same height as Scott. His face possesses strong, masculine features which contrast with his smooth blonde hair and, I have to admit, he is quite attractive. He looks around the same age as me and Scott, possibly a year or so older. Although his stance and body language suggest that he is a nice enough boy, there is something in his eyes that sends a shiver down my spine. I notice that he flicks something between the fingers of his left hand, which is leant on the bar. On closer examination, I identify that it is a lighter. Fire. My mind immediately ignites at the thought. My obsession with flames is probably unhealthy now. I guess it's something to do with my mutation. I push the thought to the back of my mind.
"Hi." I say politely, before taking our drinks and walking back towards Scott.
"Wait!" The boy places his right hand on my shoulder and, for some reason, I stop. "You wanna dance?"
"Sorry," I shrug, keeping the sweet innocent tone in my voice. "I came here with someone."
"Just one dance?" I turn to face him again now. "I'm John."
"Evelyn." I say sweetly. "It's nice to meet you John but I really should get back."
"Come on," He smiles warmly. "Is your boyfriend really that tight?"
He runs his hand slowly down my arm. Okay, this is getting creepy. I turn and walk again, though I can feel him following me. Luckily, I reach Scott almost immediately. I am silently thankful for the small size of the club. I pass Scott his drink. He takes it with one hand whilst placing the other possessively on the small of my back. John walks by awkwardly. That's right, creep! Back off!
"If he had touched you one more time, I swear I would've blasted him right through that wall." Scott growls, his body noticeably tense. "Who was that guy anyway?"
"I don't know. He said his name was John." I'm not lying. I don't really know him. But I can't help the feeling that there was some strange sort of connection between us, something unspoken and dangerous. Something I definitely won't be telling Scott about.