Ami-chan Writes

“And why are you sitting here reading while the rest of the students are out on the field?”

I look up at him, slowly, marking the page of the book with a nearby leaf, and closing it, before I actually raise my head, “I don’t do P.E.”

He adjusts the peak of his cap, perhaps I’m supposed to, or expected to show him respect, but it’s hot, and I’m really tired, and I just don’t want to, on any count if I’m being honest.

I always had a consistent Flunk due to Absenteeism or whatever, in P.E. when I actually bothered with the rest of the classes, and I’m not about to start now. Besides I’m not even sure who he is. Although I could probably run rings around them in baseball, provided I’d been around Jeanie-Jean first and had energy.

“You don’t do P.E?”

“No, I don’t.”

“I don’t like your mouth.”

“Well, I don’t like your stupid hat, so I guess we’re even.” I pick up myself and my book and walk down the steps, past him.

The professor wheels across the concourse at about that moment, “What seems to be the problem?” he inquires, looking first at me who he’s almost level with, and then over at the bulky guy in the t-shirt, slacks and hat who has turned to start after me.

I fold my arms, resting the book against my chest, and look back at the bulky guy.

“Rogue?” the professor asks.

“He seems to think I should be doing P.E. right now, and I don’t,” I answer.

“Ah, I see,” the professor looks over at the other guy.

“Everyone else is. Does her mutation preclude physical activity and someone neglected to tell me?”

“Given the current temperature and the amount of clothing she would ha …” the professor doesn’t finish the sentence, and looks over at the guy, who seems to dislike extended explanations, given his face, “Yes. Her mutation precludes P.E.”

Guy doesn’t look so happy, but that’s just fine, “I don’t see it’s appropriate to let one student not...”

If I could just…but would I really want to be stuck with him in my head?

“Or if there’s some sort of exercise regimen you can prepare for her to undertake by herself, in the gymnasium, perhaps.”

“By herself?” he doesn’t like this idea, obviously, “There’s only me, I can’t be in two places at once. That whole supervision thing…”

If ever a guy was a contender for…

“Rogue,” the professor says, sharply.

I feel myself blushing; now that’s a dumb thing to forget…so distract myself rotating my book around in my hands.

“I could watch to make sure nothing undue happens. Rogue and I have some things we need to talk about, anyway. We’ll start next week. You should get back to the others before we have world war three.”

The other guy walks off back towards the ‘field’ as he calls it, looks more like it’s really just an extension of the yard, with a higher fence. The professor twists the stick on his chair handle and turns around to me. I look at him. It’s a weird feeling meeting his eyes; I don’t want to do it.

“I would be lying if I said I didn’t want you to be happy here,” he says, after a few moments, “I also know that it can’t be easy for you, but you have to at least try and make an effort, otherwise it’s pointless.”

I’m about to open my mouth and counter with some full on disparaging remarks about the jerk and his stupid hat.

“I’m not meaning him specifically. I can see that the two of you should spend as little time together as possible…” he remarks, “He is like your father?”

Maybe a bit, does he mean build or attitude or what? I hadn’t really thought about it. If Poppa was ever…the accents all wrong for one thing. At least he didn’t call me ‘girl’. Then I woulda…I realize again the professor is watching me this is going to take some adjusting to, so I shrug, “I don’t know.”

“I see,” he taps his fingers against the arm of the chair for a moment, “Walk with me?” he inquires, but he probably really means for me to do so, “There are trees down along this path, it will be cool down here.”

So, I fall in step beside him, and we go down the little tiled incline, to this ‘avenue’ I guess, with thick oak trees on the one side. It seems to catch the breeze this way, even though it was getting baking hot down by the steps.

He explains how someone named Ororo helped him arrange the garden, so that there would be nice places to be at all times of the year no matter what the weather; and that even when it rains there’s a greenhouse, and a patio and so on. I nod, even though it doesn’t interest me, trying to be nice. This man, has let me stay at his house after all; and despite what I say, and make it sound like, and he probably knows, I do need to stay here, I maybe even want to stay here, right now. Where else would I go?

“So, what do you want out of your time here?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do.”

“I just said I didn’t!”

“Rogue,” he says. He has this even way of saying it, that I can’t even begin to describe. It has all these tones around it like, be honest with me, and yourself, and you might not want to think it, but I do understand.

So, I wind up sitting on the ground, head rested against one of the wheels of his chair, bawling like an idiot. I haven’t cried this much since I was six going on seven and Poppa told me he was going to bury me with Momma if I kept asking him what the other kids meant about the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy.

“Now, that’s out of your system,” the professor says, as I get up and sit on an iron and wood bench nearby, and use the hankie he gave me to mop my eyes, make-up comes off everywhere, I probably look like I should be in The Crow right about now, “can we talk seriously?”

I start to shrug, and then stop and nod instead.

“You’ve been through a lot,” he says, “and considering the circumstances, I know how hard it’s got to be for you to even think about trusting anyone. But we do want to help you.”