My Teenage Dream' Chapter 8
“If what you said really happened, Charles,” Raven said, scrunching up her leather jacket at the elbows, putting a grim look on as she looked into the mirror. “I think I know what’s wrong.”
“You’ve said that already. That’s why I’m sitting here again, remember?” Charles turned to her, but Rose, Emma’s hairstylist, turned his head back to the mirror again. “Sorry,” he whispered, looking into his mirror, and Rose nodded, going back to focus on the loose locks that set free.
He came back home that day after the library, head hung, and not hungry. On asking, he explained everything he could to Raven. She must’ve chatted with Emma on the phone, because in an hour, Frost came in, claiming that the girls knew what was wrong with Erik.
And if Charles wanted to know, he’d have to obey their one last command.
And the command was this, Charles thought, sitting in front of the mirror as Ben fitted the waist coat. Charles also realized that he must have a death wish, because who the hell agreed to Emma Frost’s conditions without actually listening to them?
You let us pick your Annual Dance costume, okay? Raven had asked innocently, and Charles nodded, still frustrated as to why the girls had figured out what was wrong, and not him. They had already changed his attire once, and everyone (even Erik) had seemed to like it, so it couldn’t be any worse, right?
It has been two weeks and three days since that incident, and Charles still hadn’t received any answers. He didn’t see Erik as much as he wanted to. They didn’t meet in the lunch room, or in the classrooms. They didn’t even walk into each other in the corridors anymore. It was as if Erik was deliberately ignoring him. But that wasn’t possible, right? Erik wouldn’t do that. Right?
Every time he tried talking to him, either Erik avoided him, or slipped away, or got busy with his friends. And then there were times when people crowded Charles himself, his so many new friends, all asking him to hang out with them; go to the movies, or the new café, girls asking for help with homeworks and lessons. And Charles couldn’t refuse them, even if he tried to. They just…sort of self-imposed themselves on him, and he was too polite to refuse, as Raven said.
The most common topic of approach was, of course, the Dance. Charles had at least a dozen people, both boys and girls, asking him to the dance. (Wasn’t it supposed to be the other way round with the girls?) But he had politely refused them all. It was just a stupid, irrational corner in his heart, which believed that somewhy…one way or the other, Erik would ask him.
Erik didn’t, though. It was disappointing, yes, but it was expecting too much, wasn’t it? Erik probably didn’t even like him, he was just being cool with the new Charles, like everyone else was, right? Of course. But then, he must’ve realized how boring and awkward Charles really was, in spite of his outer hipster-ness.
Charles sighed. It was expecting too much. But he really wanted to know why Erik had reacted like that, that day, and Raven and Emma claimed to have the answer. Charles desperately wanted to know, and that was the only reason he allowed himself to be dragged to the prom. He didn’t want to go, really, to a place full of people, where he’d have to act social again. But you don’t say no to Emma Frost, trust him. It was an unwritten law in the memory of times. Just like you don’t trust Raven Darkholm. Just like you bow down and fall to your knees in front of Erik Lehnsherr.
Erik.
Charles sighed again.
Rose was done with the hair and she looked at him as Ben put the final pins in his vest, tightening it till Charles was sure he’d discovered second skin.
“Relax sweetheart,” Emma said, putting final touch ups to her gown. She was dressed as the White Witch from that movie that just came out… ‘Oz, the -something- and powerful’, was it? Charles wasn’t a big fan of movies or comics; he read books. But he’d decided to learn about what his friends were dressing up as. (Keep your enemies close, they said. So he had to know things about Emma and Raven, right?) She had a gorgeous white and blue gown on, complemented with glitter, faux fur, a tiara and even a gown. Charles was sure Emma was born to be the White Witch; she looked so perfect, all celestial and other-worldly.
Raven on the other hand, was dressed up as Katniss Everdeen from the Hunger Games.
“What!” She had said the day she had announced her costume, “people say that I look like her, okay?”
Sure, maybe Raven had the same eyes, but Charles couldn’t find anything similar back then. Now though, with brunette hair braided to her side, green and black leather; jacket and boots and belts, decked with her quiver and bow, she sure reminded him of Katniss. Raven had even ordered the mocking jay pin, clipped to her collar now, the golden metal shining in the lights of the dressing room of the Xavier mansion.
“Erik was jealous, okay?” Emma said, as Andrea from the grooming team put on blue eyeliner to her pale skin.
“What!” Charles exclaimed. “Oh,” he sat back as Sam pushed him down for make-up. Gosh, did he really have to put make up? “I uh…didn’t know that Erik liked Moira?”
Emma looked at him as if Charles had just suggested that the earth was flat.
“What?” He asked, refusing to put on the lip color when Sam intended to.
“Charles!” Raven said, letting Ben adjust her quiver. “He wanted you, you dollophead! Not Moira!”
Charles formed a silent ‘O’, still not convinced. Erik wanted him? Why didn’t he say so?
“Probably because you didn’t let him speak,” Emma answered, and if Charles didn’t know her, he’d be sure that she was a telepath.
“Oh,” Charles said again. Really, could that happen?
“Yes, Charles,” Raven said this time. (Was it really that obvious, or was Emma’s telepathy rubbing off on raven?) “What is actually unbelievable is the fact that you’re going alone, even if half the school asked you out for the dance.”
“It wasn’t half the school,” Charles protested. “And I don’t really want to go, you know?”
“But you promised,” Emma reminded icily, and for a second, Charles believed she was actually enchanting him. He nodded, dejected.
The girls had their dates picking them up. Azazel was dressed as the Devil, all red-skinned, and hair smoothed back, even a red, forked, electronic tail, moving about him like a cat’s. Shaw on the other hand, was dressed in a military costume, probably a French commander from the sixteenth century perhaps. But Charles was sure Shaw too, was made for the role. He had a commanding presence, and an aura of evil around him, that matched his attire.
Or maybe, Charles was getting paranoid. He tended to, when really nervous. He refused to go down to click pictures for the same reason, and watched them from the balcony, out of their sight. Also, Shaw had asked him out as well, though Charles wasn’t sure whether he was serious or not. So he’d planned to stay away from Sebastian Shaw as much as he could.
“My lady,” Shaw said, halting stiffly and bowing, just like the commander he was playing.
“Order me, commander,” Emma winked, taking his hand as they headed out.
Raven and Azazel were still posing for the camera, both highly photo-genic and proud.
“Never knew you had it in you, arrow-girl,” Azazel said, waving his tail.
“Shut up or I’ll arrow your tail into your ass,” Raven said, laughing grimly, probably character bleeding. They laughed too, as they headed out, leaving Charles alone with the grooming team.
They didn’t scare him now. Much.
“I don’t want to go, I look ridiculous!” Charles exclaimed.
“Well, seriously speaking, Sir, I really wished I had a Professor like that when I was in High School,” Andrea said, handing him the ruler-stick thingy. Even though Charles had protested with all his might, the girls had decided to dress him up as the sexy professor.
“What? No!” He had said, horrified at the very name.
“But Charles, think about it!” Raven had said, putting an arm around his shoulders. “You want to be a professor when you grow up, right?”
Charles had nodded weakly, not liking where this idea was progressing.
“And the headmaster did say you dress up as someone you want to be…right?” Raven asked again, her face devoid of any emotions.
Charles nodded, but then he asked, “Does Emma really want to be a Witch?”
“Suits me, doesn’t it, honey?” Emma asked calmly, and Charles looked away.
“Woah! Imagine the names!” Raven exclaimed suddenly, eyes lighting up. “Mr Made-for-me? Teacher Turn-Me-On? Sir Sleep-with-me? Doctor Do-me? Professor Sexy?”
“Professor X!” Emma suggested, before Raven could conjure any other pornographic names and that was it. No backing up now.
So Emma’s team had dressed him up as the professor (he hoped he never grew up to be). His hair was tied back loosely in a pony, loose locks kissing his face every now and then. The lens were replaced (thank God!) and he was wearing frameless specs, that brought out the blue of his eyes, as Andrea had said. Ben had a perfectly tailored suit for him, the shirt rolled up to the elbows, and vest, as mentioned before, tight enough to be a second skin. The trousers were tight in places they were not supposed to be. All his dark and mature colored clothes were complemented with shiny shoes and the matching ruler thing in his hand.
Andrea sighed dramatically, and Rose joined in.
“Oh, Professor X, punish me, would you? I’ve been very naughty last night,” Rose said, blinking innocently, slurring her voice.
“Rose!” Charles exclaimed, blushing furious shades of magenta.
“Oooh, is that ruler for spanking me, Professor X?” Ben asked, voice flirty, one of his eyebrows dancing, edging closer.
“Ben! You of all people-!” Charles said, walking back till his knees hit the chair and he sank down on the plush chair.
“Wont you give us detention, Professor, ask us to stay after class?” Suzy asked, venturing very close, almost sitting on his lap.
“Guys, stop it! This is not funny anymore!” Charles squawked, and the whole room burst out laughing.
“Relax Sir, we won’t destroy the costume,” Ben said, regaining composure as he wiped a tear of mirth.
“Yeah,” Andrea said, still smiling, “that much we can leave up to Erik, right?” She asked, wriggling her eyebrows.
Charles blushed and helplessly looked at Suzy, who winked back.
This was not a good idea. He knew it.