Thorn • Scott Summers

fourteen

Scott was sitting on his bed working on homework when he heard a knock at his door.

"Come in," he called out, not looking up, and the door opened. He expected Kurt or Jean, but when he saw the scuffed black Chuck Taylor's, he looked up expectantly.

"Hi," Florence said quietly, holding a notebook and textbook in her hand. She looked around his room, never having been in it before. It looked normal, as she expected, bland. She noticed the small pot with the Middlemist she had given him on his nightstand and sat down at the foot of his bed.

"Hey, Flo."

"I was wondering if you could help me out with the math homework we got? Mr. Cassidy really is not a good teacher."

"He is, you just never pay attention because you're too busy gossiping with Peter."

Florence laughed, "Maybe, but you're a bigger nerd anyway. You know all of this, easily."

"I'm not a nerd, if anything, that's Jean."

"But you do know all of this."

"I mean..." he said, and she pointed a finger at him. "See?"

He grabbed her notebook, looking over her writing. "I'm not Cassidy's favorite for no reason, you know."

She rolled her eyes, sitting across from him, their knees touching. Scott stayed on topic, thoroughly explaining the subject and technique. After a while, they finally finished.

"So since you end with X squared-"

"I just find the square root, and then plug that in for y, right?"

He nodded at her, smiling. She finished the problem quickly, her pencil scratching deeply into the paper.

"Why do you write so aggressively?"

"Because I am aggressive," she replied, looking over her work.

"Fair enough."

She brushed off the eraser shavings from earlier, and Scott's hand reached hers, slowly crawling from her wrist to her forearm.

"Haven't been too aggressive with me lately, though."

She looked up at him, playfully glaring, a blush creeping on her cheeks. She remained quiet and still, Scott taking it as a hint to continue. His hand traveled to her face, resting under her jaw. She grabbed his wrist gently, pulling his hand downwards.

"Speaking of aggression, I have to go meet with Erik."

She grabbed her stuff and walked to the door. When she opened it, she was met with Peter, who was biting into an apple.

"Hey Florence!"

"Peter," she greeted shyly. She held her books closer to her and left, and Peter walked into the room, plopping down on the bed.

"Where's she going?"

"With Erik," Scott said moodily.

"Damn, got cock blocked by Magneto?"

"Fuck off, goggles," Scott mumbled, earning a grin from Peter.

*

"Where wert thou, mighty Mother, when he lay," Charles said, holding up his tattered book.

Scott leaned against a tree, waiting for Florence's poetry class to end. The weather had improved in the last few weeks and Charles had began to teach the class outside. He looked around at all the kids playing. It was a calm day, surprisingly. Lately, their days had been uneventful. He turned back to the class, tuning in on the Professor's words.