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Balance
Early November morning, and it’s colder than usual. Half the mansion is still asleep but Bobby’s already up, watching the freezing sunrise and the pure, white snow that came overnight. It’s cold, and it feels like home. He wonders if John thought so too. He wonders if John had planned it all along. He thinks that John just stuck with the X-men long enough until he got a better offer from someone else, and he hopes that the real reason John stuck around so long was because of him. He hopes that he’ll get a phone call from him sometime, unexpected, yet impressionable. Because that’s just how John is, to Bobby. He’d be dragged off from lunch by Ororo because he’d just received a phone call regarding a sick relative, but of course, it’s just John kidding around so he’d get Bobby’s attention. Maybe when he’s sleeping, the ringing will wake him and Piotr up, but he wouldn’t whisper so Piotr could go back to sleep. He’d speak loudly and maybe even crack a smile, because it’s John reaching out to him so it doesn’t matter if he’s not polite. He hopes it’ll happen when he’s with Marie so she might, on some level, understand and know what it means. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if it shows she doesn’t understand, doesn’t care. He hopes. Bobby’s good with adaptation, but this time it’s different. He remembers his old home and his old life, and though he misses it, he doesn’t need it. The school is his home now, and his life has taken new turns and he can’t wait to find out what there is to come. Adaptations have to do with who you are as a person, and he’s been told that he’s a good one, one that sticks by the rules. John likes breaking the rules. Sometimes it’d seemed like he’d invent new rules just so he’d have more to break, and most of the times Bobby told him off because of it. But there were times when they both sneaked out after curfew to find a bottle of alcohol, and those were the nights Bobby remembers the best. Those dizzy, dark nights when they shared a room and a bottle, and sat on the same bed though there were two in the room. Once – it must’ve been the alcohol, he thinks – John’s hand slipped up Bobby’s arm, and then his thigh, and it felt like fire. Bobby laughed at that. Of course it felt like fire. Maybe if he’d dared to touch John back, John would’ve flinched in shock because it was too cold. Bobby wondered if maybe it should’ve been the other way around, and didn’t flinch at John’s touch. He took another swipe of the bottle and then John said something stupid about rules, something he kept mentioning to get Bobby’s attention, and then Bobby remembers John licking his lips, smirking just a little like he always does, and leaning in – and Bobby backing away, taking another sip from the bottle. John laughed; he even understood. Now Bobby needs to adapt again, and live without those nights and without his best friend. A part of him thinks that he needs to stop looking at the phone while falling asleep, and he wants to stop wondering where John is every day, but he can’t. He just wants this one thing, this one single thing that he doesn’t want to change, because John was the person who understood Bobby. He doesn’t want it to go away. Marie sits in the living room, watching TV on the couch, and Bobby thinks about sneaking up behind her, taking her by surprise. He thinks he might start doing that now, to keep her on her toes, to keep her interested. He thinks a lot these days, and of what John would say if he knew that Marie was still around. “No offense,” John had once said with a bottle of alcohol in his hand, “but it won’t end well.” Bobby stared back at his friend and he saw in his eyes that there were tiny flames. He didn’t understand why. “It’s not true. What are you talking about?” John laughed at him and Bobby knew why. Even though Bobby didn’t believe him, he wanted to hear him out. He needed to hear John’s side of the story, because the two of them need to balance out, they always have. “I know that the whole untouchable skin thing only makes it more desirable,” with eyes were half closed, he handed the bottle to Bobby and laid down on the bed, “but not for people like you.” “What do you mean?” Bobby asked, never knowing when to stop listening to him. It was like a disease, listening to John and his smirks and his know-it-all voice, but he couldn’t stop either and for a brief moment, he wondered if John enjoyed having Bobby’s attention all the time. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she had somebody else in mind but you, dude.” It hurt hearing it, and John didn’t seem to feel bad for saying it. That had hurt even more. He wonders if he’ll ever stop replaying scenes with him and John in his head. Probably not. Maybe he’ll blame the constant replaying on him wanting to know why John left, if he dropped any hints about leaving before, some that Bobby never caught. But the truth is; Bobby just wonders if John forgets, and if he remembers. Bobby forgets about the night when John used his powers at the movie theatre, and he remembers John’s silver grin gleaming in the moonlight when they got home that same night. He forgets about the time when John set someone’s books on fire, and remembers when he turned to Bobby with a smirk and whispered; “Better put it out before someone sees it.” Maybe John won’t forget it either, he hopes. Marie seems engrossed on whatever’s on the TV, and as Bobby sneaks up behind her he sees that she’s watching hockey. He stops, and he thinks his mouth is hanging open. “Hey, Bobby. D’you wanna watch the game with me?” She asks without looking up to see if he’s there, or if it’s really him. “How’d you…?” He collects himself but doesn’t move for the couch, still staring at the TV screen. “Know it was you?” She snickers. “Blame Logan and his super animal senses he’s given me.” She looks up at him then, frowning, “Hey, are you okay?” “When you touched him.” Bobby states, reminding himself because it takes some adjusting to this, some adaptation to the fact that there are men living in his girlfriend’s head. Then he smiles at her reassuringly. “I’m fine. I was just saying hi…I have stuff to do.” “’Kay.” She smiles sweetly and resumes watching the hockey match. Bobby can’t forget the times John and him watched hockey together, for hours, always cheering on opposites teams and fighting during the breaks. That’s always how it was, how they liked it. Both of them, polar opposites, it balanced out. Later he’s watching Marie talking to Jubilee down the hallway and she twirls her highlights with her fingers in an endearing and girly way. She seems excited, her eyes big and her eyebrows raised and he can hear her southern accent drawl across the room. He thinks of hot, summer southern nights by the Mississippi River, her in a short skirt and thin shirt and him taking a break from all the cold. Her voice feels soft and warm and he imagines her in her home town, sweaty and sticky from the sun, sitting on a porch and drinking a soda. Outside it’s still cold, and this is still his home, but Bobby can’t stop wondering. When the sun shines through the clouds, or when sunspot rushes by him bursting with energy, he thinks of the warmth, and John. When he watches Marie growing more assured of herself, when she craves the respect of the older ones because of her power, he thinks of John and when he sneaked out at night with a devious grin plastered on his face. Sometimes it feels like John hasn’t gone at all and those are the times when Bobby wonders who Marie really is. And sometimes, he just stops thinking altogether and waits the entire winter for the summer to come because then he can sit outside, in the warmth, and just close his eyes and relax. Summer, he thinks, and he likes the ring of it. Bobby’s favorite season used to be the winter, but things change, and he adapts. Bobby wonders if the winter makes John think of him, and tells himself that it does. Polar opposites and all, he chuckles, and he takes one day at a time. And when he’ll get that phone call, when he’s being pulled away from lunch or studying with Marie, he’ll know exactly what to say. “Can’t stay away from me, can you?” And he’ll hear John’s howling laughter on the other end, and then they’ll both agree that they won’t forget what’s happened. When they meet outside with powers and rage fueling them to go to combat, they’ll remember that this is supposed to happen. Opposite sides and all, just the way they like it. It’ll balance out. |