Letters {Alex Summers}

letter i

"I shiver when you touch my skin..."

August 14, 1964

Dear Alex,

We met one week ago. You spilled your food all over me because you didn't see me, the new kid, and I ran out of the kitchen, embarrassed. Later on, you came up to my room and apologized relentlessly. It was adorable. Especially for that bad boy persona you (try to) carry.

Anyways, I'll probably never get to tell you how I feel about you, so I'm going to do it the best next way I know - writing.

I know you always see me with my notebook, and I've talked to you about my writing. No one had ever listened to me talk like that before. Charles tried, but it was a bit awkward.

You actually sat next to me during lunch this afternoon instead of the X-Men. I keep my distance away from the X-Men team: Hank McCoy, Sean Cassidy, and Charles Xavier. I don't know why. I just don't think they'd ever accept me. Even though they say that they accept all mutants. You're different though. I wonder why you sat by me today. I'm not anything special. Not pretty or funny. Just...Neva. Most people think I'm weird once I tell them what I can do.

But you don't. You know it's like to distance yourself because of your mutation. To want to lock yourself up and be alone. Forever. I learned that from Hank. He told me about how Charles found you.

Today was the first time we touched, which is another reason I've decided to start writing these letters.

On the first day we met, a week ago, you asked me what my mutation was. We were in my room, and you were twirling around in the swivel chair Charles bought for me when we went room shopping two weeks ago. I was sitting on my bed cross legged, notebook next to me, and wondering why the heck this blonde, 19 year old was in my room. I told you that if I touched you, I would be able to see your past, present, and future. You stopped swiveling and widened your eyes. I thought, Well Neva, you've ruined it with this boy. I was ready for the "Oh my god! Read my future!" or the "Oh my god! You're a freak!" It never came. Instead, you said, "Woah. That's awesome. Kind of badass too." I blinked with surprise, and then I might've blushed because you started grinning. That made me blush even more. And that's how you learned about my freakiness.

I usually wear black, close-fitting gloves. That Hank guy made them for me. He's real smart and nice. Kind of quiet too. I took the gloves off today after dinner to write because holding a pen and notebook with gloves, no matter how sleek and how fitting, is a major pain. You, however, thought it would be funny to scare me and proceeded to jump onto the couch I was sitting on. I accidently hit your hand for a moment before yelling at you. You were laughing your head off. Alex, practical jokes aren't funny.

Ok ok, I'll admit it was kind of funny.

You didn't notice that our hands brushed though. Don't worry, I didn't see much. Not many people know this, but I can only see someone's most probable future and only if I touch them for long enough. Today, I just a few of your most recent memories. Like how you came up to my room at around 3 pm, hesitated, but then walked away before opening the door.

What was that about?

From, Neveah Liu