Running for Home - 16. October 12, 2021

October 12 2021

I was using the gym in the subbasement again today. It’s actually been nice, getting back in shape. After initially shedding a few pounds, I’m starting to put on a bit of weight but it’s the good kind: muscle. It’s just the beginning of things, of course, but I’m starting to see hints of progress.

My predictions about using the Danger Room were right, though. Hank’s been bitching and moaning about some of the damage I’ve done the last few times I’ve gone in there. I told him to take it up with Emma if he had a problem with it, because she was the one who didn’t just give me the okay but actually encouraged it. It was annoying to deal with his complaints, particularly since there’s a part of me that wonders if it’s even worth it to train like this again. I am hugely out of practice with the really destructive shit, though. It’s not that I can’t make it happen, or that it’s just explosions and flames with no real artistic construction; I just don’t seem to have as fine control as I used to when I’m dealing with that much structured fire at once. It’s funny, considering how much better my fine control is with shit on the smallest scales after all these years. If only I’d figured out a way for my powers to start my own fires. That’s still my pipe dream, I guess.

The only truly annoying thing about all of this is that Bobby seems to have scheduled himself for time in the gym and once in a while for the Danger Room right after me, and sometimes even overlapping a bit. We’ve generally managed to avoid one another around the school, so it’s always a bit of a shock to have to deal with him there one-on-one. Not that we speak to one another or anything like that. I generally just try to pretend he’s not there and get on with my day, and he does basically the same thing.

The weirdest thing with Bobby, though, is that he doesn’t really seem to be hanging out with people much. It’s fucked up, since it’s hard for me to remember him as anything but a social butterfly. Maybe not as much of one as Jubilee, but he was definitely at his extroverted best when he was with others. Heck, even when he was just alone with me, when we weren’t pissing each other off, there was always some sort of communication happening between us. Even if we weren’t talking to one another, it was like there was always something… Fuck. who am I kidding? That feeling, that bullshit was probably just wishful thinking - the product of a closeted gay teenager’s overactive imagination. Anyway, Jubes said Bobby chills with her only once in awhile, and he does stuff with Sam sometimes. She said he’s pretty much completely stopped interacting Piotr now that he and JP have moved into much more serious boyfriend territory. I guess that means we can add homophobic douchebag to the list of Bobby’s faults now. His opinion of me must have plummeted to a new low if he’s found out that I’m gay, too. Not that I give a fuck what he thinks.

But yeah, outside of Jubes and Sam he’s mostly been keeping to himself and sometimes even just holing up in his room. I think he’s been taking off on the weekends too, going back into the city. Jubes said he hasn’t sold his place there, and is still doing a bit of work for the firm he was at when they need some extra contract help. It’s like he has this other life, completely separate from here, and won’t let it go. Instead, he refuses to engage in what is right in front of him. It really makes me wonder what the hell kind of dirt Emma must be holding over his head to get him to come back when it seems pretty clear that he would rather not be here. He’s not like me. He didn’t come back chasing the pay cheque carrot just to survive.

Ugh. Why do I even give a fuck?

I don’t. I really don’t. I guess I just remember that one time when he just disconnected like this back in the pre-Marie days, not too long before she arrived. I remember he’d had some sort of huge fight with his dad while he was away for a weekend or for Thanksgiving, or something. He just kind of retreated into himself and was snippy with everyone when they tried to draw him out. If I hadn’t been his roommate, I think I’d never have seen him outside of class and I was his best friend at the time.

I got sick of it. I acted like I was pissed off with him, I even believed it, but the truth was I was worried. I knew he was hurting, but I couldn’t talk to him about it both because he wouldn’t let me and because I didn’t know what I could say. My experiences and immaturity would have led any discussion into an ‘at least your dad wasn’t as bad as my dad’ scenario that does nothing but become some sort of stupid pissing contest. It would have only made Bobby feel worse, layering some guilt on top of everything else.

So instead I made it my mission to make him angry. I wanted to make him angry enough that he broke the silence even if it was just to lash out at me. It took a few days but it worked. We almost got into a fistfight over something. I don’t even remember what it was now, but we were in our room and he ended up hauling me up by my collar and started screaming at me about how much of a piece of shit I was and can’t anyone see he was hurting and just wanted to be left alone.

And I nodded my head at him soberly and told him I knew all that. I knew all that, but I wouldn’t let him push me away, too. I was there for him, always, and I would never leave him alone. Ever.

I was such a shitty friend.