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Monday
The last thing Alex needs on a Monday morning is a nervous Sean anywhere near him, yet he sees the redhead hopping down to where he is sitting on a bench. He is exhausted from his MMA class — which starts at 6 fucking a.m. — low on sleep, hasn’t had a bite to eat since then, feels his bones melt like butter, his muscles prick like knives, his stomach dissolving in acid, and his mind turn into jelly. Energy on short supply, he has downgraded from his default angry mode to grumpy mode, and still, he finds it hard to tune out Sean’s shrill voice asking him, ‘Hey man, will you accompany me to the Prof’s office? I need to get these reviewed.’ He flags a sheaf of papers in his face.
‘Take bozo. That’s what he is for,’ Alex snaps, burying his face in his hands.
‘He’s nowhere to be found. I searched everywhere.’ His voice goes one pitch higher. ‘Please man, this is really important. I need to submit this today. Just wait outside, you don’t even have to come in. Please man, it just helps with somebody around.’ When Alex stays as still as a corpse, he adds, ‘Coffee is on me. I promise.’
If Sean didn’t look like Shaggy confronted by a ghost and ready to run in the opposite direction with Scooby, Alex might not have agreed.
Plus, coffee may be just what his body needs right now; especially if it’s free.
When they reach Xavier’s office, Sean ready to knock and Alex trudging behind him, the door is locked. The worn brass plate spelling out Charles Francis Xavier in black lettering is missing. For a moment, they think that Xavier has quit the university. Before Sean starts to hyperventilate, a janitor informs them that the professor is not in yet and that his nameplate has gone for rework. Sean looks disappointed, but Alex is just glad he didn’t get the chance to analyse the complex mechanics of keeping his body perpendicular to the ground on two legs outside the professor’s office.
Xavier’s class is the last before lunch, all through which Alex sleeps with his eyes open. After the hour passes and the students file out, Hank and Sean crowd Xavier near the exit, the trio speaking animatedly. His stomach rumbles, providing background music to their actions. Angel snorts behind him and throws a protein bar from her bag his way. Raven and Armando take the empty seats around him while Hank and Sean return after Xavier’s departure.
‘Didn’t you have to submit that in the morning or something?’ Raven asks, waving her hand towards Sean.
‘Yeah, but the Prof wasn’t there. I was scared I’d be late. But his office was locked. So...’
‘Wait! Wasn’t there?’ Hank questions. His expression is so dismayed and his eyebrows shot up a mile from his glasses that Sean might as well have insulted his grandmother. ‘What time?’
‘Around eight, I guess. He wasn’t there, man,’ Sean shrugs.
‘That’s new,’ Hank says, confused. ‘I have never seen Professor Xavier’s office locked after 7:30. He’s one of the first professors in the building.’
Leave it to Hank to know the Utopian University faculty’s schedule better than the Utopian University’s faculty.
‘You’ll mail the report once the Professor reviews it, right?’ Armando cuts in, leaving Hank to his musings.
‘Yeah, man. Right away,’ Sean answers with gusto. ‘Prof says he’ll finish it by evening, and I’ll mail it by the end of the day. And… if it gets selected… it should be published in next month’s issue of Utopian Science Journal. So… fingers crossed.’ He intertwines the fore and middle fingers of both hands and waves them frantically in the air, grinning like a joker.
Angel chuckles. ‘So what’s this report about, anyway?’
‘Oh, it’s about how sound waves affect living things, plants, animals, and humans alike. How certain wavelengths accelerate growth, and how some degrade it. There’s this…’
Alex tunes out Sean’s excited banter to the life-nurturing sound of his bar wrapper opening.
It’s only after all their classes that they regroup with Anne Marie across campus, near the Geology Department.
‘You won’t believe what I’m going to tell you,’ she drawls in her country accent.
Before anybody can respond, she blurts out, ‘Professor Blieck got hitched,’ grinning like she just won the lottery.
‘Who? Bert?’ Raven’s face crumples like crushed paper.
‘Yup, the one and only,’ Marie nods.
‘You’re kidding me.’ Angel gapes.
‘Saw a band on his hand,’ Marie sings, almost lyrical.
‘Maybe he’s just engaged or something,’ Armando speculates.
‘His Facebook status says otherwise,’ Marie confirms.
‘Hey, wait! He’s in today? Man… I waited like twenty minutes outside his office this morning,’ Hank says, piecing together the information from their chat.
Sean looks lost in thought, like he’s here but his head is on Mars. ‘Hey man, is Xavier married?’ he asks no one in particular.
‘No,’ replies Raven. The others shake their heads in confirmation, partly confused by the sudden change in focus. ‘Why?’
‘Cause, I swear I saw a ring on his finger today,’ Sean continues, looking at the sky. ‘And the janitor said his nameplate’s gone for rework.’
They freeze in place, staring at each other like dumbfounded sheep, analysing the order of events and their implications, the latter descending slowly over their minds like water seeping through bedrock.
With impeccable timing, Alex’s stomach grumbles audibly, filling the silence.
*
Tuesday
Hank is helping out with their assignments in one of the empty classrooms when Raven breezes in. She has barely settled down before she says in a single breath, ‘Hey, know what? I was talking to Rasputin just now, and he told me that his uncle told him that Prof X was a first-class flirt back when they were at Oxford.’ She blows out a breath, the news finally out of her system, and quickly begins on another one. ‘And guess what? He would use cheesy genetics pick-up lines on his subjects of interest.’ She makes air quotes to emphasise her point.
‘Do you think his nerdy pick-up lines would have worked on Bert?’ Sean asks, waggling his eyebrows and smiling slyly.
‘Aha, Seany,’ Angel chimes in, leaning on her desk, ‘I think it’s the other way round. I bet Bert ran around the Prof till he said yes.’
‘How do you say that?’ Hank asks, suddenly sounding very interested in the topic of discussion.
‘Xavier is clearly miles out of Bert’s league,’ she replies.
‘Oh please, Angel!’ Raven scoffs. ‘They totally rock the same boat. They’re undeniably nerds, completely immersed in academia. Hell, they even dress alike. I bet their idea of “fun on a Friday night” would be playing chess, or that their ideal date night would involve the two of them reading to each other, or that they’d have angry sex because they don’t see eye to eye on humanitarian policies. I’m telling you, they so belong together.’
‘And what’s wrong with any of that?’ Hank protests, thoroughly offended.
‘Huh, only you would say that, Hank,’ Alex retorts, turning towards him. He regrets the action immediately when his neck sends a sharp jolt of pain up his skull. It’s like the universe is punishing him for being mean to Hank.
Hank quickly looks away, adjusting his glasses unnecessarily. ‘I mean, the Prof is not that bad. He’s one of the best professors I know. He’s a genius through and through. He was the youngest to be admitted into Oxford, and at twenty-eight, he already has three PhDs to his credit.’
Alex would have assumed that Hank has an irrevocable crush on the professor if he didn’t already know that Hank has an irrevocable crush on Raven — the entire student body privy to the fact, bar her. In rebuilding Xavier’s image, Alex suspects he’s trying to build his own in Raven’s eyes. So, just maybe, he can cut the guy some slack. More so for the sake of his neck.
‘Hey, I agree with Hank and Angel on this,’ Armando says, always the pacifier. ‘I mean, I’m not so sure about this marriage debacle, but that aside, the Prof isn’t bad looking. He may be short, and his hair could use some grey coverage and a stylist — or two — and he may not have a flat stomach, but that just comes with a professor’s lifestyle, I guess. He’s fit otherwise, and he does have handsome features. Besides, his smile overrides everything else.’
‘Yeah, he does have a baby face, blue eyes, red lips and all,’ Angel smiles.
With that, Alex can agree. But too bad those said eyes are hidden behind thick-rimmed glasses, or that his physique is hidden beneath ill-fitting slacks and fuzzy sweaters, or cardigans, or tweed jackets with elbow patches, or tweed jackets on sweater vests. Now, Alex is no fashion guru, but he does have eyes, and he knows when something looks repelling. Especially if it’s as repelling as the fingerless mittens the Prof wears during winter.
‘Alright, fine!’ Raven concedes. ‘I may get why Bert would be into the Prof, but I’ll never get why the Professor would be into Bert.’
‘Maybe Bert is Xavier’s type,’ Armando provides.
Angel snorts indignantly. ‘Ha! If his type is a scary, weird, awkward, anti-social, hairy, six-foot giant with paws for hands and a stomach big enough to house the moon, then yes! Bert is totally Xavier’s type.’
‘You can’t decide who you fall in love with,’ Armando says with finality.
The group goes silent for a minute or two, prodding at his words before Hank pitches in quietly, ‘I still don’t understand what’s wrong with scientific pick-up lines.’
Ruckus rises behind Alex. He drops his head into the pillow of his hands and gets busy playing dead to the world.
*
Thursday
Alex never really understood why all of them had to accompany Sean to the library just because he had some research to do, and yet, here he is.
At least they’re in one of the more secluded corners, where he can stretch his legs on the bench and rest his back against the wall. His trainer had been a particular brand of douchebag that morning, so he busies himself mentally cursing the bastard into oblivion.
Sean and Hank are diligently taking notes, hunched over a stack of reference books. Armando and Bobby are half-heartedly playing a game on an iPad.
From the opposite aisle, Kurt makes his way toward them, whispering, ‘Hey guys. Did you see the Prof’s Facebook feed?’
He holds out his phone. ‘He updated his relationship status to Married, but hasn’t tagged anyone.’
Raven looks thoroughly betrayed by the universe for not having discovered this herself. Angel fumbles with her phone, and a second later, gasps. ‘He did!’ she exclaims under her breath. ‘Oh my God.’
‘Is it true that he’s married to Bert?’ Kurt presses.
‘We don’t really know for sure, Kurt,’ Armando answers, always the voice of reason.
‘Of course they are!’ Raven argues, indignant. ‘It’s way too specific to be a coincidence.’
‘Just because it feels like a coincidence doesn’t make it true,’ Armando points out. When Raven raises an eyebrow at him, daring him to continue, he obliges, ‘One! He was only away for a weekend. You can’t get married in a court over a weekend.’
‘Actually, you can,’ Hank cuts in. ‘There are fast-track courts that work Saturdays. There’s one downtown.’
‘Still proves nothing,’ Armando insists.
‘I dunno, man—’ Bobby joins in, scratching his head. ‘—I think it’s possible. Remember that Neogene seminar? They did seem pretty close. And the Prof even got Bert to give us a tour of the fossil collection. That alone says something. Monroe had been requesting access for months and Bert kept saying no. Then suddenly, Professor Xavier asks, and it’s open sesame.’
It had been two semesters ago, during a three-day university workshop on the Neogene epoch. Students from the Science and Earth Sciences Departments had participated.
On one of the days, Professor Xavier had arranged a special tour of the Geology Department’s fossil collection.
Xavier had been his usual animated self, pointing out bones and scales among rocks and sediment samples, weaving stories of ancient ecosystems. Bert, on the other hand, had followed him around like a lost puppy — uncomfortable, quiet, and visibly unsure about being in a room full of students.
How Bert ended up as a professor, Alex will never understand.
Still, by the end of the tour, Xavier had placed a hand on Bert’s arm, thanking him for the opportunity. Bert had tutted awkwardly in response, but he’d also seemed more relaxed than he had all day.
Now that they think about it, the two of them had mysteriously vanished for the rest of that afternoon.
Realisation creeps over the group like a heavy fog. They must have brushed it off at the time as something harmless, but looking at Raven now — who appears mortified for the second time that day — they might have been wrong.
That night, Alex opens Xavier’s Facebook page just to see what all the library drama had been about.
Not that he’s particularly interested in the private lives of professors or anything.
The page — Xavier’s Page for Troubled Youngsters — had originally been created as a way for students and at-risk youth to reach the professor if they couldn’t meet him in person.
It barely had any personal details beyond place of work, city, and the like. And now, relationship status.
Alex hadn’t followed the page at first. But after seeing a post from a bombshell blonde who’d tagged Xavier in one of her selfies, he’d reconsidered.
He could have followed her outright, but that would have edged into stalker territory. So instead, he kept tabs via the occasional posts she tagged Xavier in.
She definitely couldn’t be the Professor’s girlfriend. One, she was light years out of his league. And two, she was already engaged to some lumberjack-looking asshole.
Alex appreciates the sentiment behind what Xavier does, helping kids who need it.
The Professor had been counselling students out of sheer goodwill long before the Dean decided to officially put his PhD in psychology to use by naming him the University’s student counsellor.
Alex suspects the professor’s urge to help comes from personal experience — his own frayed past. The man does look like the kind who was bullied and pushed around growing up.
And yet, Xavier gives hope. He tells you there’s nothing wrong with you. That it’s okay to be yourself.
Maybe he has that same effect on Bert. Maybe he sees the man beyond his shortcomings.
Hell, Alex should know all of that firsthand. He still remembers sitting in the Professor’s office with bloodied knuckles and a split lip, after beating the ever-living shit out of St. John.
Xavier hadn’t scolded him. He’d simply tended to his wounds, calm and collected, and then smiled gently. ‘You remind me of someone’, he’d said. ‘You have a lot of anger in you, Alex. If you don’t control it, it’s going to consume you. Find a way to channel it.’
Then he’d handed Alex a stack of pamphlets and brochures of self-defence workshops, physical training programmes, even some mindfulness crap.
Alex had ignored most of it, not because it didn’t make sense, but because he simply refused to agree with the man completely.
So he’d taken matters into his own hands instead, scouring online forums and classified ads until he found something rougher, more his style: a mixed martial arts program, run by some ex-military-something-hardass.
And maybe — just maybe — Xavier had been right all along.
Because now, two months into training, Alex is too exhausted most nights to even make it to bed, let alone punch someone in the face.
*
Monday
It’s Betsy who comes running up to them at lunch.
‘Hey guys! Guess what I saw today?’ she says, looking so smug she might as well have solved world hunger and found the secret to immortality.
‘What?’ Raven asks, suspicious.
‘The Prof has got a hickey,’ Betsy smirks, raising an eyebrow like a challenge.
‘No way.’ Raven’s eyes go wide, almost comically so.
Angel gasps. Armando gawks. Sean chuckles. Hank blushes so hard you’d think he was the one who gave it.
And Alex… Alex is too tired to care. He’s already halfway through his sandwich and can’t be bothered to stop chewing.
‘Yes way!’ Betsy insists, sliding into the bench between them. ‘I mean, you wouldn’t see it unless you were looking really closely. But I was sitting right in front of him in his office today. He had to stretch sideways to grab a form, and when he did, his collar pulled back just enough—’ She pauses dramatically. ‘—And there it was. Couldn’t see the whole thing, but the part I saw? Purple and red against that pale skin. And I swear, there were teeth marks too.’
She scrunches her face at the memory.
Everyone goes quiet for a beat too long. The silence is filled with all sorts of terrible, vivid mental images.
Surprise. Disgust. Curiosity. An unholy mix of all three paints each of their faces in turn.
‘I’ve never seen Bert’s teeth,’ Angel mutters, almost thoughtfully.
‘Or smile,’ Hank adds, still a little pink.
‘Yeah, good luck finding it in that bush of a beard,’ Raven snorts.
‘It’s like steel wool, sticking out in every direction,’ Betsy says.
‘I wonder what he does when he gets food stuck in it,’ Sean muses.
And just like that, Alex loses his appetite.
That night, he dreams of mice and steel traps and wakes up way before his alarm goes off.
*
Dr Charles Xavier, the student body counsellor, is known by every soul on campus. Somewhere along the way, Dr Xavier became Professor Xavier, which then shortened to Prof X, and eventually just Prof.
Alex doesn’t quite remember how Professor Blieck turned into Bert, but he’s pretty sure Anne Marie had something to do with it.
Between Raven, Anne, and Betsy — the founding members of the unofficial Utopian University Gossip Mafia — he wouldn’t be surprised if even the astronauts aboard the International Space Station were already briefed on Xavier’s supposed nuptials to Bert.
*
Wednesday
‘Guys, you have to listen to this,’ Warren pants as he approaches the gang where they are roasting Sean by the parking lot.
‘Remember the Physics Department had a seminar on Nuclear Energy Containment and Transformation by Dr Shaw?’
Hank nods vigorously and a few others join him.
‘Well, I was going to fetch Shaw from the break room to summon him to the stage, and I heard him talking to Xavier.’
When all of them abandon their task of haunting Sean to face him, he takes it as his cue and barrels on: ‘Shaw asked the Prof,
‘So Charles, is it true what I hear from Moira about the legendary Xavier–Frost Christmas celebrations?’
Xavier laughed as he made himself a cup of tea: ‘It was true, I guess. We’ve mellowed it down over the last few years, especially after the eldest Frost moved to England. It works out fine since my husband is not a huge fan of the festivities.’
‘Ah! Not one for glitz and glamour then? What a shame!’ Shaw teased.
At that, the Prof laughed harder and replied: ‘Yes, well that, and he’s Jewish. So now we celebrate a low-key amalgamation of Christmas and Hanukkah.’
He even invited Shaw to join them for Christmas this year.’
Kitty is the first to break the silence, a smug smile encasing her face.
‘Let me make a wild guess as to who else is Jewish,’ she says mockingly. ‘Dr Bartholomew Blieck.’
*
Friday
They are walking to the cafeteria for lunch when Illyana tags along.
‘Hey guys, have you had Prof X’s class today?’ she asks, adjusting her bag.
‘Nope. We have it after lunch. Why?’ Raven replies.
‘He was walking funny today.’ When ten eyebrows rise in unison, she adds quickly, ‘I mean, you can’t recognise it at first, but I was sitting closer to the front of his class today and I couldn’t help but notice he was limping a little at times.’ She winks at the last part, the inference clear in her tone. The ten eyebrows rise higher than before.
Come Xavier’s class — apart from Alex, who feels like he could fall off his chair — the others are disturbingly attentive, contrary to their usual post-lunch sluggish selves, observing Xavier with hawk-like eyes.
And yes! Xavier is walking slower than usual and limping now and then. Of course, one would miss it if they weren’t paying attention. But never let it be said that they didn’t pay attention when it mattered.
Sure, at the end of the day, none of them mention it because, one, it’s treading on their professor’s personal life, and two, it’s ghastly to even think of the two of them in the act.
Armando takes the initiative to change the topic and asks Alex, ‘Hey, what’s the matter, man? You look like a mutilated corpse.’
‘Urgh,’ Alex growls. ‘My bastard of a trainer pulled me into the ring even after he knew I’d got beaten up earlier. Just because the man has the stamina of a horse doesn’t mean all of us do.’
‘Speaking of stamina,’ Angel starts slowly, clearly unable to refrain from the topic, ‘who knew our Bert had it in him to give the Prof a limp, huh?’ She smirks.
Raven grimaces. ‘I wonder if it’s even possible with his boulder of a stomach in the way.’
‘Raven,’ Sean deadpans, placing a hand on her shoulder. ‘You never know which snake is hiding under which boulder.’
Their faces contort in horror and Sean laughs for ten minutes straight.
That night, Alex dreams of snakes emerging from beneath boulders and slipping into cracks in the desert sand. He wakes up in the middle of the night to Sean’s laughter ringing in his ears. He doesn’t sleep after that. He’s not sure whom he wants to kill more — Sean or himself.
*
Friday
‘Well done, man.’ Armando pats Sean on the back. They are celebrating Sean’s success at the bar from across the campus called Darwin, frequented by students and faculty alike.
‘What did he do now, Armando? Finally learn to fly?’ Jubilee chimes in from behind them.
‘No, better! His report, Sound of Life, has been selected to be published in next month’s issue of the science journal,’ Hank says with a proud smile on his face.
‘Congratulations, Seany boy,’ Jubilee sings, equally pleased.
‘Thanks, Lee. It wasn’t completely me though, Hank’s put in equal hours, and the Prof was there to guide me all along,’ Sean responds.
At that, Jubilee swallows her drink forcefully, places the glass on the table and says impatiently, ‘Speaking of, I was here waiting for Rasputin and the others earlier. Xavier was here with Professor Monroe and McTaggert as well. I could overhear most of their conversation because they were at the table behind me, but then the Prof said something about “husband” and, you know...’ she trails off, raising her hands in the air, as though that were excuse enough for eavesdropping. The others at the table lean in towards her, drinks forgotten, as she continues, ‘Anyway, I don’t know what the previous part was, but I only heard the Prof saying,
‘My husband wears plaid and has a beard and I like it, Moira. I don’t know what you’re on about.’
McTaggert said, ‘You’ll like your husband no matter what. Don’t pile that logic on the rest of us.’
Prof protested, ‘I like him because he is likeable.’
‘Likeable meaning a scary weirdo?’ McTaggert snarled.
Xavier didn’t respond to McTaggert but turned to Professor Monroe and stated coolly, ‘Ororo, please don’t believe what she says. My husband is absolutely lovely. You’ll believe me when you meet him.’
Then, to McTaggert, he said, ‘He makes me tea when I’m tired, and he carries me to bed if I fall asleep on the couch. He’s a giant softie with a gruff exterior once you get to know him.’
At that, Miss Monroe cooed and McTaggert grumbled something I couldn’t hear.’
‘Ha! I was right! They so belong together!’ Raven shouts, the sense of accomplishment dripping from her voice.
‘To that and Sound of Life.’ Angel raises a toast.
‘Aye aye!’ they all chime in and clink their glasses in the air.
When they are ready to head out, they find Alex sleeping on a corner couch. Armando and Hank look at each other and huff out a breath.
*
Friday
Thankfully, the entirety of the following week passes peacefully. They are heading out for lunch when Anne Marie joins them.
‘Look who finally decided to join us for lunch,’ Raven chides.
‘Got some time to kill, girl. I’m free for the rest of the day. Want to do something fun after you guys are done?’ Marie asks.
‘Wait, don’t you have Professor Blieck’s class after lunch?’ Hank questions.
‘Nah, he cancelled on us last minute. He—’
Whatever Marie was going to say next gets cut off by Kitty, who comes running to them and says between breaths, ‘Prof X is leaving. Said… his husband would pick him up.’
He should have known it. Alex should have known that the week-long peace was too good to be true.
‘Do you know where?’ Raven asks at the same time as Marie, who blurts out, ‘Where is he now?’
Kitty replies, taking a deep breath, ‘Heard him near the library. He was telling Professor Grey that he’d be leaving for the day and that his husband would pick him up. Don’t know where he is now.’
‘Did he have his bag on him?’ Hank asks, and when Kitty shakes her head in negation, he continues, ‘Then he would have gone to his office to collect his things. We could still catch him if we went there now.’
When they reach the Professor’s office — peeking out from behind the adjacent wall and praying that he doesn’t spot them — Xavier is locking the door, his messenger bag hanging by his hip, phone wedged between his ear and shoulder.
‘Of course I want to be there, love. I wouldn’t miss it for the world,’ he says with a wide smile, and once he has pocketed his keys, adds, ‘I’m leaving from my office now. I’ll meet you at the back gate, darling. Bye.’
They wait for the Professor to disappear around the corner with bated breath, and spring into action soon after.
‘I know a shorter route to the back gate through the basement. There’s a security outpost that overlooks the gate with one-way mirrors. Come on,’ Bobby calls before he starts a sprint.
Raven fishes out her phone, calls Betsy and barks, ‘Mission Code X a go. Back gate outpost.’
‘Mission? Really? And you have a name for it?’ Hank asks, perplexed, where he’s lagged behind to accompany Raven.
‘Hank,’ Raven says, stopping in her tracks, ‘anything worth finding is a mission. And any mission — big or small — must have a name. Though this baby is solved and sealed, there’s nothing more satisfying than seeing the proof of that in the flesh.’
Maybe this could work out. Maybe, if they see Bert and the Professor together, they’ll satisfy their curiosity and let the matter be. He wants to be done with this, so he can eat and sleep in peace.
Maybe.
So Alex trudges in the direction Raven and Hank had disappeared.
*
Angel is the first to reach the outpost. When she enters, there are already others sticking their faces into the glass at odd angles and levels for a front-row seat view. She bags one for herself, towards an abandoned corner.
Either this must be some kind of mistake or a well-executed prank, because there is nobody near the gate. It's only after the rest arrive and arrange themselves so that everybody is privy to the proceedings that a black motorbike cruises towards the gate and stops in front of it. Its owner is tall, jeans and a leather jacket covering a well-built frame. Though his face is hidden behind a helmet, they don't need to see it to know that it's not Bert.
As if on cue, they spot the Prof walking from the other end. By the time they turn back towards the biker, he has removed his helmet to reveal a face that is hot as fuck. This is turning out to be less and less a mistake by the minute. But if it's some kind of prank, Angel is glad to be a part of it, if only to witness this hotness on wheels.
She is distracted by Alex, who, behind her, is shaking his head and chanting a string of ‘no’s, more likely to himself. She lets him be, in favour of the scene in front of her.
The Professor breaks into a jog as he nears the gate, grinning like a fool. The hottie replies with a similar grin, only, with more teeth, scarier and shark-like. When he finally reaches him, the hottie presses a chaste kiss to his lips, then passes over another jacket and helmet from a bag. They exchange a few words, but they can’t hear them.
Alex’s chanting behind her has now progressed to, ‘No… not my trainer… no.’
Xavier hops onto the pillion seat, loops his arms around the hottie’s shoulders, and the duo ride off out of sight.
The silence in the booth is palpable, the only sign that it’s occupied present in twenty-one inhales and exhales. The surrounding air is humid and recycled.
It’s Armando’s voice that breaks it. ‘Is shark-face your trainer?’ he asks Alex, pointing to the gate. The appalled look on the latter’s face confirms it.
‘He is a hot daddy-o. I’ll give you that,’ Angel smirks.
Alex is still staring at the gate when he spits vehemently into the space between them, ‘Charles Xavier is married to Erik Lehnsherr.’ After a beat, he adds, ‘Fuck.’
*
Monday
A bleary-eyed Sean tells a sleepy Hank as they walk towards their class, ‘Hey man, the nameplate on the Prof’s office door is back. It’s the same as before, I guess. Only now, it says, Charles Francis Xavier-Lehnsherr. Man… can’t believe they took a month to spell that.’
_