Chapter 2- A Not So New Student


“Whoa!” Warren cried out as he flew out of the firing laser’s path. He was in his training suit. His battle costume. White, sky-blue streaks on his sides, and an insignia of a halo on his chest. There were two holes in the back. For his feathered wings, of course. He wore a half-mask, which covered only the top-middle part of his head and face. Two holes for his beautiful, striking, blue eyes, another hole for his mouth and chin, and one more for his short, wavy, blonde hair. He designed the costume himself. He called himself Angel. Originally, the Avenging Angel.

“That was close,” he panted. He’d been training for almost two hours now, with Logan at the controls. He was already up by five that morning, but he was used to it. He had to be.

It was almost a year since he had first met Logan. It sure was quite an experience.

During that whole year in his stay at Xavier’s mansion, he had been training in what Logan called the “Danger Room”. Two hours, everyday. It was a real pain in the ass…at first. But after a few weeks, Warren noticed results. His body was firmer, more muscular. He wasn’t the only one who noticed them, though. Girls did, too. And he liked that.

Warren turned his head, just in time to see a spiked, spinning disc heading straight towards him. He ducked as he felt the cold, swift wind sweep through his hair. He gulped, then he glanced up to the control room where Logan stood. “Gimme a break, will ya?” Warren yelled, flapping his wings up and down.

Logan grinned, but shut the program off. “Fine, that’s enough. ‘Sides, you got school, today. Wouldn’t want ya to be late.”

“Yeah. I’m gonna go ahead and take a quick shower,” Warren replied, smelling himself, “I stink.”

“And we don’t want the girls to scare the girls away, right?” the older man asked, sarcastically.

“Right. Man, you know me.”

Logan just smiled, and nodded as Warren started to fly towards the exit.

“Hey, kid,” Logan called. The young blonde boy stopped in midair, and turned. “Yeah?”

“Don’t forget, we got a guest comin’ today. She’ll be here by the time you get back from school.”

“Oh, okay, sure….she the professor’s first student?”

“Yep, really nice kid. I’m not gonna be here, though. I’ll be uh, goin’ somewhere. Be nice to her, when ye meet her, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You know you can count on me,” Warren replied, and grinned evilly. Logan shook his head, and sighed. “Ah, go. Or yer gonna be late.”

Warren nodded, and smiled, then he landed gracefully on the hard metal floor, half-running through the opened exit.

==

“So, we still on for tonight?” Warren asked, as the girl slid out of his silver Eclipse. The blonde cheerleader nodded, as she played with her hair. “Yeah.”

“Okay, then. Pick you up at seven?”

“Hmm…fine. Sounds great,” she answered, almost with no enthusiasm. “By the way, thanks for the ride.”

“Uh, yeah, no prob,” Warren replied, then drove off quickly, leaving the girl standing at her doorstep.

==

Warren grabbed his backpack from the backseat, and climbed out of his car. I wonder, what the hell are we gonna talk about the whole evening?, he asked himself, heading towards the front door. It’s like, she’s not even interested. Is that the new “strategy” these days? Hard to get? Make it seem like you’re not interested and make him work hard even just to get your attention? Geez, man. Girls these days. So complicated.

He absently scratched his head. “I wonder where I’ll take her tonight,” Warren asked himself. “Somewhere loud, probably, so I don’t have to talk to her much,” he muttered to himself, pushing open the glass door. There was no one in the lobby, but he could hear people talking somewhere upstairs. He climbed lazily up the stairs, and followed the voices. They seemed to coming in the same direction as his bedroom. As he got closer, he saw the professor, sitting on his wheelchair, coming through the doorway of the usually empty room beside his own. “Yes,” the professor said, “I really do think that you will like it here. Also, you can go the same local public school where Warren goes. Bayville High is very close here, and I’m sure Warren will be more than happy to drive you.”

“What are you talking about?” Warren asked the professor, raising an eyebrow. He walked over to the professor’s side. “Ah, Warren. You’re just in time.”

“Just in time for what?” the teenage boy asked, peering through the open doorway. He saw a couple of suitcases, one big box, and a small blue backpack lying on the floor near the neat bed. Then he saw a small brown package, probably as big as a shoebox, on top of the bed. It looked strangely familiar.

“Just in time to meet her. She just arrived a few minutes ago, Warren,” he replied. His voice seemed happy.

“Who just arrived?” Warren asked, confused.

“Why, I thought Logan told you,” Xavier answered, surprised.

Finally, Warren remembered. Stupid, stupid, stupid, Warren scolded himself, slapping a hand on his forehead. How could I have forgotten? …Oh, right. My uninterested date.

“Professor, he did tell me. I just…forgot. Sorry,” he apologized.

“Ah, don’t worry about it,” Xavier assured him, smiling. He sure is in a happy mood, Warren thought.

“Oh, and um, I’ve got a date tonight. Just wanted to tell you before I-- ”

“Wow, this room is huge, Professor,” a voice suddenly interrupted him. It was feminine, soft, and in awe. It came from behind the half-closed bathroom door inside the room. Warren stared at it, was about to say something when the door opened. The opened door revealed a girl. A teenager, probably 15 or 16 years old. She had pale, creamy, white skin, and beautiful jade-green eyes. And her hair. It was long, wavy….and red. Very red. She was wearing a sleeved, light purple tee that stopped at her midriff, showing her flat stomach. And she was wearing cargo pants. It was very….unique from what the other girls wore, Warren thought to himself as his mouth involuntarily fell open. She was very, very, pretty, and Warren found himself staring at her….

He coughed , and straightened himself. “Hi, I’m Warren,” he said quite calmly, surprising himself a little. He held out his hand, and offered her his known trademark: his million-dollar smile.

She smiled back warmly, and they shook hands. “Hi, Warren. I’m Jean Grey.”