Runaways: Book II

VII

"Peter?" I questioned, still not fully trusting my eyes.
His head whipped around and he stared for a moment before the corners of his mouth slipped upward to form a grin. A warm feeling entered my chest.
His smile...how did I ever go this long without it?
Logan turned back and gave me an annoyed look,
"Not that I'm not basking in the pure bliss of this reunion but could you get in the car now?"
"Sorry," I said faintly before grabbing my bag and sliding into the backseat.
The first few minutes of the car ride were uncomfortably silent. Peter and I would occasionally exchange glances from across the opposite sides of the car and I began sensing energy again. I peered down at my shaking hands and took a deep breath.
Hank cleared his throat awkwardly and then asked,
"So, you two know each other?"
Peter popped his bubblegum and replied,
"Yeah. We used to—"
I quickly intervened,
"We used to go to school together."
He chuckled and added,
"And we used to date."
I felt blood rush into my cheeks.
Don't glow. Don't glow.
I slipped my hand into my bag and felt for the mutation suppressant. I peered around to make sure no one was watching and stabbed it into my arm, pushing the syringe down and the formula into my blood.
The five of us sat without a word until the car came to a halt, stopping in front of Peter's house. The night I ran away flashed across my brain.
"Thanks for your help again, kid," Logan commended Peter.
"Where are you guys staying?" he questioned before looking over at me for a split second.
"Motel near the airport. Why?" Hank replied.
Peter turned to fully face me,
"___, stay with me tonight. I'll drop you off at the motel tomorrow morning."
"I can't," I replied quickly, keeping my eyes on the carpeted floor.
"Then at least come inside. I can drop you off at the motel later tonight."
The quietness of the air burned my temples and my eyes rose up to meet his, warm and passionate.
"Please. I need to talk to you," he added.
"Okay." I said quietly.
"I'll see you guys later," I added before exiting the vehicle with Peter.
The car zoomed off and left the two of us standing alone in the street.
I hugged my shoulders and chewed my lip,
"What did you want to talk about?"
He smiled, clamped his headphones back over his ears and led me inside,
"C'mon."
The front door shut behind us with a click and his little sister came running up to him.
"Peter! Do you have it?" she questioned in a sweet voice and with a special smile only children had.
Peter's face lit up and he pulled a plastic-shelled egg of silly putty from his jacket.
"Thanks!" She remarked excitedly before running off to another part of the house.
We descended down into the basement which was exactly as I remembered, except for the arcade game which was switched out to "Pong," and Peter's stash of stolen things which had doubled in size.
I took a seat on the couch and he slipped off his headphones before rummaging through his records.
"You know, you never really introduced me to your sister before. You're really sweet to her."
He removed a Pink Floyd black grooved record from its sleeve and replied,
"Which one?"
"You have more than one sister?" I asked, taken by surprise.
"Lorna's the little one, and I also have a twin, Wanda. She's not home much though."
Huh. I guess there are still a lot of things about Peter I don't know.
"Time" by Pink Floyd began to play throughout the room and he took a seat next to me.
"So you've been in New York all this time."
"How did you..." I began, searching for my train ticket in my empty pocket.
He held it up in front of me and I took it back from him.
"Yeah, Westchester County," I stated.
"What brought you back to D.C.?"
My powers were totally suppressed at the moment, but I could tell by the look of his face that there was a little glimmer of hope in his eyes that my answer would be because of him.
"Actually, Bo sent me something asking for help. He's in trouble. I'm trying to get to Dorchester to help him escape."
"Escape what?"
"I'm not exactly sure. I think he may be getting experimented on..."
It was quiet for a moment, the only sound coming from his record player and Syd Barrett's waning guitar.
"So you helped break Magneto out of the Pentagon, huh?" I noted grabbing his federal security cap off his head.
He laughed and his dimples carved out the sides of his face.
"Yeah."
"And how was it you kleptomaniac?"
"Freakin' awesome. There was glass shattering, and plastic guns, and a lot of ducted tape."
I rolled my eyes,
"I can't believe you did that."
I instinctually grabbed his hand and said mindlessly,
"What if you got hurt?"
He grinned out of the corner of his mouth and I realized what I was doing. I pulled my hand back and anxiously bit my lip.
"Are you okay?" He asked rather unexpectedly.
"I'm fine..."
"___, your lip is purple."
He brushed his finger against my bottom lip and added,
"Granted, purple has always been your color but—"
"Peter I can't do this. I'm sorry, I just...I can't. You should probably take me to the motel now."
I was standing now, and Peter silently nodded and led me to the car.
The ride there we said nothing, just listened to the hum of the car as we drove on.
When we arrived we sat in the parking lot for a moment and I turned to face him,
"I'm sorry...I just can't do this again."
Peter pulled a cassette out from the glovebox and placed it in my hands before adding,
"Then maybe we can just go back to friends..."
I smiled, put the cassette in my back pocket, and walked out into the cold wind.