Joyride
She needed fresh air. So Marie took her for a joyride. In Logan’s convertible.
Having done this more than once, Marie led Jubilee hand in hand through the school to the garage beneath the foundation.
The entire way Marie refused to look back at Jubilee, her grip almost too tight.
“Afraid I’ll disappear?”
Marie hung her head in reply, still not sparing a glance. “Maybe. Except I don’t have a harp and you’re not a shade and we’re not escaping Hades.”
“So you read ahead in class again.”
It was easy to grab the set of keys from the dozens hanging above a desk. Easier to unscrew the roof and toss it to the side. Marie had rummaged through the glove compartment for a few minutes before Jubilee found the garage door switch in the dashboard of the vehicle.
No one and nothing stopped them as they sped away into the night, their wild laughter trailing through the cool air.
Jubilee had cheered and squealed as Marie expertly took every turn at high speeds, racing further into the rural expanse that led away from the school. Houses with big lawns faded into low hills and paved roads.
It wasn’t until they were pulled over, sitting on the warm hood of the car and looking out at the highest point on some winding curb, that they began to ask questions.
“Do you think he gets, like, hairballs?”
“You’re assuming he self grooms.”
“But he’s a cat.”
“No, no I really don’t think so.”
Marie was preoccupied with the shape of Jubilee’s ear, tugging lightly at the lobe between two fingers. Jubilee endured it, her arms folded over Marie’s bent knees that were thrown across her lap.
“You know if you snip it off you get to keep it forever,” Jubilee teased, casting Marie a sideways glance. Those hands disappeared and she received a pout. Not a moment later, warm fingers explored the muscle of her shoulder under the sleeve of her shirt.
“What if you just stopped doing push-ups one day?”
“I would immediately disappear,” Jubilee nodded, her face solemn. “Poof. Gone. I am nothing without this physique.”
When they had first pulled over, the girls had tentatively tested Marie’s touch. There had been some arguing. Marie’s reluctance. Jubilee’s insistence.
It had eventually led to Jubilee standing with her hands on her hips, waiting impatiently as Marie endlessly talked to herself while a single finger hovered inches away from Jubilee’s face. It ended poorly, with Marie managing the lightest touch on Jubilee’s nose, who then threw herself to the dirt and feigned a seizure until Marie was nearly a sobbing mess.
And that ended with Jubilee actually crying with laughter as Marie wrestled her on the ground, hurling curses.
Marie grinned now, shaking her head as she leaned back, looking out into the night. “I used to do this a lot. Come out here, I mean.”
“So you’ve said.” Jubilee grunted at the light smack against her back. “Where’d you learn how to drive like that?”
Marie shrugged, “I didn’t really learn it. That’s how Logan drives.”
Jubilee understood. “Abilities, memories, and random skill sets. With just a touch.”
“Yes and no. I don’t think I can choose what I get. I don’t know that I can. Everyone is different. The memories are the hardest because sometimes I don’t know that they weren’t mine to begin with. I worry that I might lose some of my own. Look,” Marie tugged the collar of her sweater to expose the skin of her shoulder.
She prodded at the smooth, dark flesh there. “When I was twelve I fell from a tree. Messed up my shoulder so bad they had to do surgery. There was a huge scar here - the ugliest. After I touched Logan it disappeared.”
Jubilee frowned, “Like gone forever?”
“Like it never happened.”
“He is always ruining everything - I bet that scar was so cool.”
Marie chuckled, covering her shoulder. “At first I was relieved - I actually hated it. But then if it’s gone - did I ever really fall from that tree? What if that wasn’t my memory to begin with? What if everything I know, right now, isn’t me at all?”
“I didn’t need that. I already have a lot on my mind, thanks, dude.”
A groan, “You’re awful.”
“Do you think so?”
The mood shifted then. Jubilee looked at Marie, allowing herself to step back into that place of vulnerability she hated so damn much. To talk about the things that were silent between them.
Marie reached for Jubilee’s cheek and hesitated. Jubilee waited. Her eyes slid closed as Marie’s fingers tentatively pressed against the skin of her face. That hand firmly grasped onto her chin, but Jubilee refused to look at her friend.
“I think if you’re asking me for forgiveness - I can’t give it to you. Just because I’ve seen and felt your life, it doesn’t give me the authority to pass judgement on you. Professor Xavier made sure I learned this before anything else when I got here. If you let everything before choose what you do next and how you move forward - it’ll all just be the same, honey.”
Jubilee let herself be pulled into Marie’s arms, grumbling at the wisdom in those words.
“But if it means anything,” Marie mumbled into her shoulder, “I don’t think you’re awful at all.”
“We could just keep driving, you know. Pick up Kitty somewhere along the way, maybe.”
“Yes, your street smarts, her book smarts and my good looks will take us so far in life.”
“She would complain the entire time,” Jubilee managed a small laugh.
“She would,” Marie nodded, resting her chin on the other girl’s shoulder. “But at least she’d keep us out of trouble.”
“Definitely the Blossom to our Powerpuff Girls.”
“I still don’t know what that is.”
Jubilee sighed. “We have so much homework to do, dude.”
“I think Ororo will give us a pass.”
“Chalking it off to freshman anxiety?”
“To whatever this is,” Marie pulled back, looking at the space between them. “How do we even begin to explain this?”
“How does it feel?”
Marie opened her mouth to reply and shut it, sitting back, her arms sliding into her lap.
“I don’t actually have words for this.”
Jubilee gasped, feigning shock. “The, Anna-Marie, the greatest poet of our generation, at a loss for words?” She endured the smack on her arm.
Marie was smiling, shaking her head. But the humor slowly drained from her face. “I don’t know how this happening, but what I do know is that I’m not...different. I’m the same, I’m not magically cured or something. This is either temporary or something is changing. When I touch you I can still feel...my power under my own skin. A cat still has its claws, right?”
“I think I know what you mean. Maybe you’ve managed to control it.”
“I don’t think so. I don’t know. With you I’m so careful. But more careful than I am with everyone else. Does that make sense?”
“Sure, you don’t want to get complacent and then put me in another coma.”
“I didn’t put you in a coma, but yeah.”
“We won’t know for sure until we actually test it. But you know that means probably having McCoy trap you in the infirmary.”
“That means going back.”
“I guess, but not just yet,” Jubilee sighed, wistful, gazing out into the night again. “Just a little bit longer.”
In reply, the sound of Jubilee’s stomach growling.
“Fuck that let’s go back I need food.”
Marie grinned, untangling herself from the other girl. “There’s a diner not too far from here. The best burgers and shakes around. C’mon.”
Another fifteen minutes or so in another direction and the pair found themselves pulling into a parking space in front of a classic, chrome encased diner, and then sliding into a dimly lit booth with a window.
Definitely a snapshot of a time before things like desegregation, the diner was very much a perfect picture of milkshake dates - but warm, inviting, and smelling of the promise of delicious food. A low hanging lamp just above their heads offered their booth a moody glow, menus tucked behind a small condiments rack against the window. Jubilee smiled at the charming juke box on a wall behind Marie, streaming the jazz that often filled their dorm room.
It seemed like a perfect hideaway. There weren’t a lot of customers, a few scattered along a serving counter, an opening to the kitchen beyond allowing the view of a single cook and the clatter of stove tops, pans and skillets striking grills. A woman dressed in a simple plaid shirt and dark skirt arrived to their table with a small smile, tucking a notepad and pen into a smart apron around her hips.
Jubilee took in the purple streaks in her blonde hair, and the strange silver of her eyes.
“Not alone tonight, Rogue?”
Marie shrugged, tugging on a lock of hair, avoiding Jubilee’s questioning glance. “We go to school together. She’s my friend.”
The waitress’ expression brightened, turning to Jubilee, “A friend? She’s prettier than the big guy you drag in here with you sometimes.”
Marie’s mouth quirked into a winning smile, “Better dining company than the big guy.”
“Welcome, friend of Rogue. I’ll give you ladies a moment to peruse the menu. Can I bring your usual tea?”
“Yes, that’s wonderful.”
Jubilee pursed her lips as she watched the waitress walk behind the counter and gave the diner another once over, sliding to the edge of her seat.
The jazz music. The silver eyes. Jubilee realized one of the customers hunched over his meal had horns. And purple skin.
She slid back into the booth, opening her mouth to speak. Marie had successfully hid her face behind a printed menu.
Jubilee rolled her eyes, her hand touching the top of the menu and slowly pulling it down to the table top.
Marie met her arched brows with a sheepish look, chewing her bottom lip.
“Rogue?”
“What?”
“You didn’t tell me you have a code name too, dude.”
“I didn’t choose it.”
“But you have one. And I can tell you like it.”
“You’re judging me.”
“Of course! You have code name!”
“Everyone does!”
“Not me.”
“That’s because you think you’re too cool for one.”
“Well, Yes.”
Marie rolled her eyes, inspecting the menu again, “Logan gave it to me, okay? We use it in when we’re in public.”
“Right, because you’re superheroes.”
“I’m no superhero.”
“You are the most super of them all,” Jubilee sighed, earning a grin from Marie, “Now tell me what’s good here.”
They placed their orders and a short time later a young man appeared with two plates of greasy burgers and a mountain of French fries.
He had the same silver eyes and purple hair as the waitress, giving Jubilee a polite nod and Marie a toothy grin.
“Two plates for two ladies,” he set them down on the table and did a slight bow.
“A personal visit from the chef himself,” Marie greeted.
He lingered at the table, clasping his hands at his front, “Nice to see you again, Rogue.”
Jubilee watched the exchange with interest while she stuffed a fistful of fries in her mouth.
“This looks amazing, thank you.”
“It’s my pleasure. Can I get you anything else?”
He certainly wasn’t talking to Jubilee. He had his back to her at that point.
“No,” Marie replied, her voice so sweet and husky Jubilee thought she had molasses on her tongue, “But I’ll call if we do, shug.”
Jubilee’s brows shot up at that.
When they were left alone, Marie finally met Jubilee’s gaze. Her eyes widened. “What?”
“What do you mean, ‘what?’ What the hell was that?”
Marie shook her head, her dark hair rippling, taking a bite of her burger. “I don’t know how you mean.”
“You minx, you know exactly what I mean.”
Marie sighed, “I’ve come here often, okay? They know me.”
“They know Rogue. I don’t know Rogue.”
“Well,” Marie made a show of hands around her face, “Here ya go.”
Jubilee only laughed, stealing a fry from her friend’s plate, “You are so oblivious sometimes.”
Marie raised a brow, sipping from her milkshake.
“This conversation is not going to pass the Bechdel Test, just so you know.” Jubilee ignored her groan. “That guy is super into you.”
“He is not.”
“Totally is. You flirt.”
“I am unfamiliar with that term, Jubilee.”
“You laid that accent on so hard, oh my god.”
“We’re familiar, it comes out more when I’m comfortable.”
“You don’t have to make excuses I’d flirt just as much with a voice like that.”
“He’s not even my type.”
Jubilee made a sound of triumph through a mouthful of burger, “You have a type?!”
“Keep your voice down!” She hissed, kicking at Jubilee under the table.
But Jubilee was already wiping her mouth roughly with a napkin, leaning forward. “You don’t tell me anything, dude. Come on. You know everything about me.”
“But I don’t grill you about it!”
“But you KNOW that’s the difference you don’t have to ask.”
Marie huffed, a perfect impression of Kitty Pryde, leaning back in her seat and crossing her arms over her chest. “Fine, ask me something. Not about boys.”
“We are super failing the Bechdel Test right now - spill the details on your dream guy.”
“I don’t - there’s no -“
It was too perfect then. The sound of the diner entrance ringing softly, signaling the arrival of another customer. The way Marie’s eyes lifted, looking beyond Jubilee. Because she somehow just KNEW. The way her jaw hung ajar as her gaze became too focused, too wide, too distant, a fry held in one hand, half eaten.
Jubilee didn’t notice at first, this change, happily tearing into her burger. But when the silence between them changed into something that made Jubilee shift in her seat uncomfortably, she looked up to see Marie completely twisted around in her seat, looking over the top of the edge of their booth, towards the diner counter.
“What’s wrong?”
“My Love is a fever, longing still,” the girl whispered, the words spoken like a prayer. Jubilee almost didn’t catch it, screwing her face into confusion as she leaned forward.
“Dude - “
Marie ignored her, as if in a trance, continuing to mumble to no one but herself.
“Marie - “
“For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright,” she continued, and Jubilee could have sworn she saw the girl cross herself, “Who art as black as hell, as dark as night.”
Another strange silence passed.
“Did you just recite Shakespeare?” Jubilee almost shouted.
Everyone in the diner, the few that there was, turned their heads in their direction.
Including a pair of red eyes that Jubilee hadn’t noticed before.
Marie squeaked, throwing herself flat against the seat of the booth.
“You seriously need to stop reading ahead - I haven’t even gotten to that sonnet yet. Kinda whatever but you know,” Jubilee ignored Marie’s muffled groan, “I think he’s done better stuff.”
“Jubilation,” Marie hissed.
Her friend laughed, leaning back and taking a bite out of another fry. “You’re such a nerd I love it.”
“Is he still looking?”
Jubilee glanced around the diner and everyone had gone back to their business.
Except that pair of red eyes. They were zeroed in on exactly their booth.
“Yep.”
“Oh my god.”
“Who’s he?”
“Jubilee, please let me die in peace.”
“You are an incredible romantic, honestly.”
“Do us a favor and just kill me now.”
Jubilee dared another look, too curious. Those eyes were still staring. They shifted, Meeting Jubilee’s gaze. It occurred to her then how red they were, like glittering rubies.
But that face.
If Marie was meant to be on the cover of Vogue, he was meant to be on the cover of GQ. For sure a European print. It was angular, with sharp cheek bones and a high brow, that perfect square jaw with a shadow of a beard framed with almost shoulder length hair tousled by the wind.
Jubilee whistled to herself and dared a tiny wave.
She received a smile so wolffish, so predatory, that she stiffened, sliding deeper into the booth and out of his line of sight.
“So like, I guess you’re into really...um...scary looking guys.”
“Did he smile?”
“Dude, do not tell me you like that smile. I will flip this table, Marie, I swear on McCoy’s 9 lives -“
Marie almost moaned, “He is so handsome.”
“I’m getting the check.”
“Is he still looking?”
“Jesus Christ I hope not,” Jubilee inched back for a look, trying to be discreet.
He was still looking at them. And getting up from his seat. Jubilee cursed, throwing herself onto her seat like Marie, and the two exchanged mortified squeals under the table.
“Uncover your hands from your face, woman, and look me in the eye,” Jubilee growled.
Marie’s hands had indeed been covering her face, and she forced her fingers apart to peak at Jubilee, “God what do I say to him?”
“Marie, I adore you, but he looks like a serial killer. Let’s go.”
“What about the check?”
Jubilee was juggling trying to time the distance between them and this red-eyed weirdo and stealing glances over the table top when she came to the realization that she hadn’t a single dollar to her name.
“Wait, how were you going to pay?”
Marie seemed to have a moment outside of her panic, pursing her lips in thought. “Actually, I never do.”
The strangled sigh that escaped Jubilee managed to make Marie grin. “I really do hate you, dude.”
“Okay, let’s just get up and go.”
“Okay, on the count of three.”
“Three.”
Jubilee and Marie popped up in their seats with a terrified shout at the sound of the new voice.
A young man, not the weirdo with the red eyes, stood there. Jubilee’s eyes darted around for Marie’s serial killer crush, but the man was nowhere to be found. It was like he disappeared. As if that wasn’t even creepier.
Their new arrival cleared his throat, snapping Jubilee out of her panic.
“Yes?”
He recoiled at her sharp tone. She frowned, sizing him up with quick glance. Tall, lean athletic build, dressed in slim fitting jeans tucked into motorcycle riding boots, strong arms folded over a broad chest, a tight shirt showing off the hard muscle lining his shoulders, a chiseled jaw, short, styled, dark hair and - it occurred to Jubilee that she was staring a little too hard, watching him shift from foot to foot under her intense gaze. He was hot. Super hot.
But she couldn’t tell if he had, like, ugly-face, because the sunglasses he was wearing, a strange, gleaming red, covered up most of his face.
The glasses. Right. Shit. Wait. Fuck.
The Star quarterback. Golden Boy. Captain of the team. Current leader of the X-Men.
Scott Summers.