I'll meet you at the end of your street at 7:30? S x
Sure. E x
I replace my phone on the nightstand and evaluate myself in the mirror. Just by looking at me, you can tell it's been a long day. My eye makeup is smudged slightly; a small grey smear beside my right eye, my hair is scruffy and flat. Ugh. Is it really this much hard work dating Scott Summers?
My phone buzzes again. When I see Scott's name my mind wonders why he could be texting me. It's 7 o'clock now! I only have half an hour (or twenty minutes, by the ‘Summers clock’) to get ready.
Also, I have something really cool to show you. S x
I roll my eyes; I really hope this isn't a bad innuendo. I turn my attention back to my clothes. Luckily, growing up dating the football team has taught me the importance of looking presentable. I have learnt how to take a very casual outfit - like I'm wearing now - and dress it up, with just a few accessories and a nice pair of shoes.
After I'm dressed, I use moisturiser and a Q-Tip to touch up my makeup, before brushing out my hair and letting it hang naturally around my shoulders.
I run my fingers through the tips of my hair. My hair is where everything started, how I discovered I was different. How I discovered I was a- a- how I discovered I had abilities. Hair. Something so many people take for granted. As I watch myself in the mirror, I reflect back on whether I want this or not. The idea of this ability grows on me more and more as the time progresses and I understand it better. The lying, however, does not. I have secrets from my mom, lots. Who doesn't? But I don't have any this huge!
But at least I see a definite positive through this - Scott. My Scott Summers.
My phone vibrates with a text from Scott, informing me that he is outside. I run downstairs to meet him, casually shouting to my mother that I'm going out as I leave the house.
After a short bus ride, we arrive at house Scott told me about. He was right. It's definitely more of a manor. As we approach the huge metal gates I start to feel nerves, although I'm not sure why. Maybe this is what it's like to meet your boyfriend's parents, maybe, if your boyfriend's parents had picked him up off the streets less than twenty four hours ago.
The gates squeal as they open to allow us in. This place is so damn posh! As we walk up the drive, I take in my surroundings and begin to feel more and more underdressed. The drive is more of a road really, between 300 and 400 meters long. It weaves its way through the unnaturally healthy green grass, winding and curving to avoid water fountains and professional looking flower beds. Jeez. People really love to show off their money. I get a strong temptation to roll my eyes, but resist.
We stand in front of the huge front door which is as sufficiently pretentious as the rest of the property.
"Seriously?" Scott has an amused smile on his face. "Don't be so judgmental."
"Come on, Scott! This place is insane!" I laugh.
"So a big house is the insane thing about the recent events we've been through?" He raises his eyebrows.
"Get on with it, Summers." I wink at him.
He pushes open the huge front door and steps inside into the huge entrance hall. I follow him slowly, jumping when the door slams shut behind me. This house is way to empty. It's creepy.
"Professor?" Scott calls, his voice echoing out into the empty room.
"Hello, Scott." A mature male voice booms. I turn to my right to see where the source of the voice came from. A thin, older man in a wheelchair smiles at us.
"Hello, Evelyn." The same voice says, but this time, the man's mouth doesn't move. I look up at Scott for reassurance. He nods and smiles softly. I swallow hard and clear my throat.
"Umm. Hello, Professor." He smiles.
"I've heard a lot about you, Evelyn. Your mutation is quite spectacular." I look back at Scott, he shrugs. A red hue spreads across his cheeks.
"Scott," the professor says gently. Scott nods.
"Come on," he whispers, taking my hand. The professor moves down the long entrance hall. "It's okay."
We follow the professor down a wide corridor to a posh wooden door. As beautiful as the architecture and interior design of this place is, it's still pretty creepy.
We enter a large room framed with numerous large wooden book cases. In the centre of the room is a large wooden desk with stacks of papers and interesting multi-cultural ornaments. The professor moves to be behind it and gestures for us to sit in the seats opposite him. Scott sits and pulls me down in the seat next to him. He moves his thumb over my hand slowly, making me relax slightly.
"I have a proposition for you both," the professor starts. "However, I understand your apprehension, considering how we don't know each other so well."
I glance at Scott, unlike mine; his attention is directed wholly to the man in front of us.
"I'm sure you have heard about the recent mutant phenomenon, and I am also certain that you are both feeling very vulnerable right now." My grip tightens on Scott's hand. "Already, we are being painted in a negative light. Unfortunately, there are some mutants who live up to this negative stereotype. However, most of us, as you know, do not."
"How many are there? Of 'us', I mean?" I blurt out.
"Mutants?" I cringe at the word. "More than you would think. There are mutants everywhere; some can just hide easier than others."
Wow. There could be people like us all around and we wouldn't even know.
"Anyway, I intend to assemble a group of mutants - a team, if you will - to combat these trouble seeking mutants and the negatively publicity they cause us." The professor explains. "I would love you two to be the first to join this team - to become my first X-Men."