xp_logs | Miles & Gabriel, Thursday afternoon (Reply)

Gabriel slips outside to get some privacy for a secret project, but forgets to check around for spiders.

The too-long, too-cold winter had transformed into a too-long, too-hot summer. Even with August winding down and the new school year approaching, the heat and humidity were unrelenting, leaving most people inside parked in front of their AC units.

Not Miles, though. Gross as it was in the sun, it was actually mildly pleasant sitting up on a large, sturdy branch of one of the bigger oak trees that graced the estate grounds. Plenty of shade, and the occasional breeze facilitated his writing of the first draft of his college application essay.

It was a decent draft, too. Though perhaps he should have reconsidered his final sentence, in which he implored Columbia University to accept him so they could improve their student diversity statistics.

A small gust of wind broke through the sticky air, a rustle in the grass coming along with it. Seemingly out of nowhere, Gabriel appeared at the bottom of the tree, one hand clenched around the spine of a thick paperback book with a pamphlet sticking out of it. The other wiped the sweat off his forehead.

He cast a glance around him, neglecting to look up, before plopping down against the trunk of the oak tree. He dropped the book next to him somewhat unceremoniously as he caught his breath. Seeking secrecy — well, privacy, really, of the kind that was impossible to find in a mansion full of busybodies — Gabriel had used his powers to grab it from the library. Now he was sitting outside in the midst of a stagnant heat that felt just shy of extreme, figuring it was the one place nobody would think to find him.

After taking another look around, he grabbed wiped his hands on his forearms and opened the book in one split-second gesture, then stuck the pamphlet inside. In the midst of a wall of text, three letters kept jumping out at the page, almost shouting their presence to Gabriel.

G.E.D.

Months of preparation for the AP exams and ACT had made Miles intimately familiar with the mass-produced, newspaper-print study guides, so that he could recognize them even from far away. In fact, despite the green, organic aroma of the freshly cut lawn, he was sure he could smell the book, too. Nightmare fuel, really. If he never saw one of those books again, it would be too soon.

Identification of the book made it clear to Miles why Gabriel had staked out this hideout. It would be embarrassing to announce his presence when Gabriel clearly wanted privacy. On the other hand, it would only get worse the longer Miles stayed up there. If he had learned anything from these multiple-choice exams, it was how to eliminate clearly wrong answers.

He tore a twig off the tree and dropped it to get Gabriel's attention.

Studying for these tests didn't necessarily teach him how to choose the correct answers.

The stick fell to Gabriel's left, and his head whipped up a bit at the noise. He hugged the book to his chest as he looked around, perplexed, until he found the source of the disturbance. He raised an eyebrow, doing his best not to look as irritated with himself with he felt. "Miles." It was somewhere between a question and a realization. He tilted his head back, looking up into the tree. "Hey."

"Before you get mad that I saw you're studying for the GED — which, hey, cool — I was up here first," Miles sagely reminded Gabriel. "But if it makes you feel better, I'll pretend I didn't see anything."

"Too late for that," Gabriel said, unable to help sounding a little bitter. At least it was better than telegraphing how embarrassed he felt — although his face was probably doing that for him. "Really a shame you can't market that danger sense of yours. It'd come in handy when it comes to avoiding moments like this."

"Or you gotta learn that we live in three dimensions and look up. Well, actually four, but whatever, I only got a 3 on AP phys 2, so what do I know."

There was an awkward silence as Gabriel blankly stared at Miles for a bit before looking the book in his arms. "I'm not studying for the GED test," he finally said, as if that mattered. "I'm just... thinking about it."

"What're you thinking? Why wouldn't you take it?" It was inconceivable to Miles that someone would not want a high school diploma, and that bewilderment showed on his face.

"Are you — not everyone graduates high school, Miles, and some of us do perfectly fine." Gabriel's face was still hot; this was exactly the kind of uncomfortable conversation he'd hoped to avoid. "I've gotten this far without one," he reminded the younger man, dropping the book and crossing his arms, "and I'm doing alright. School smarts really didn't help me get to where I am, I'll tell you that much. So then, it's like, why bother? What's a piece of paper? I read. I can have a conversation. Plenty of high school graduates are fucking morons."

The pointed tone stung Miles like a ravenous mosquito. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I'm just saying, if it's an option then why not? You don't have anything to lose. And you could definitely get it."

"I don't know." Gabriel shrugged and let out a little sigh. He was blowing this conversation by somehow being both aggressive and defensive, and it was toward one of the few people at Xavier's whose opinion actually mattered to him. "I just — the whole thing just seems like a dumb concession to all these stupid standards and, like, fucking, system bullshit that don't even really matter. And, like, I know it's stupid, because whatever, but what if I can't? I mean, I left school before I had a chance to figure out if I was too dumb to graduate. And if I take it and fail, then they really win. And if I take it and pass, they still win." He wasn't entirely sure who they were - his parents, his teachers, the state, somebody. But they'd let him down, whoever they were, and he'd turned his back on them.

Miles half-expected snow to spontaneously start falling. What Bizarro world was he in? "Since when do you care what other people think about you? That's a good thing," he added before he was misconstrued again. "You're not a loser."

"That's not — I know that, it's just, you know, being here." He shrugged. "Everyone's got a Ph.D. or they're going to grad school or college or whatever, and suddenly, it doesn't feel like enough. I dunno, I can't explain it, I guess."

"All of a sudden? You've been here for like two years, why . . . Oh!" Miles pursed his lips, trying to hold back a wicked smile. "It's because I'm going to college next year and you're going to miss me! Eso es. Ay, Gabo. No te dejo."

"Ay, Dios!" Gabriel groaned, rolling his eyes. "It's not that at all."

Actually, it was, a little, in that it felt like part of a larger trend. People moving forward and moving on, and Gabriel feeling like he was staying the same. It wouldn't have bothered him before he got to Xavier's, and it wouldn't bother him before M-Day. But he'd spent enough time treading water and trying to stay afloat.

He couldn't explain all of that to Miles, though, so he settled for shaking his head and a smile. "Fine," he relented, "I'll miss you a little."

The new levity untied the twist of anxiety and shame that had knotted itself in Miles's chest when he'd offended his friend. He settled more comfortably on his perch and adjusted the bookbag resting between his legs so it wouldn't fall off. "I mean, I'm not gonna leave leave. I'm staying in New York, that's for sure. I'm still Spidey and there's still the X-Men. And not just me. I haven't heard about anyone else leaving."

"Please," Gabriel waved a hand. "You're smart as fuck and you work harder than any teenager should have to." He shrugged. "You're going to get into Columbia or Yale or one of those super-intense schools with four fucktons worth of homework a night, dude. Assuming you can find a way to put your extracurricular activities on your resume."

"I thought about it, but they don't offer scholarships for superheroing, so nah. But, no, stop, we're not talking about me. You. You should do it. The GED. My dad has it. He and my uncle also both dropped out of high school. And neither my mom or dad went to college. Which, to go back to me for a sec, is why they're so freakin' loco about me going."

"Yeah, I'm sure," Gabriel grinned. "Your dad mentions college, like, every time you guys have me over." He glanced down at the study guide and the pamphlet. "I dunno. I'm thinking about it. That's the first step, right?"

Miles couldn't agree more. He shifted on the branch again, trying to move away from a knot digging into his back. But he misjudged his balance and accidentally kicked his bag over the side. He was a fast and agile kid, but not fast and agile enough to catch the bag before it plummeted to the ground and spilled its contents. Thankfully a couple feet from Gabriel and even more thankfully nothing heavy or fragile, just a pencil case, a couple notebooks, and a small blue cardboard box that held a roll of foil packages.

"Mierda."

Gabriel, without saying a word, leaned over, and looked at the box. Then he looked up at Miles and back at the box. it was quiet for a few more seconds before he spoke. "Well," he finally said, his expression placid. "Somebody's been busy." Unable to help himself, he grinned widely.

The silence froze Miles in place. When Gabriel's voice thawed him out, he jumped out of the tree without a second thought (and without his usual show-off acrobatics routine) and collected his fallen property. He tried to say something, anything, to defend his honor and dignity, but no words came out. He just looked like a fish, opening and closing his mouth without making a sound.

"Aha." Gabriel couldn't help beaming and looking the least bit smug. "That good, huh?"

"Yes." Miles swore that he didn't actually say that himself, that someone was pranking him by throwing their voice. Because he would never say something so crass out loud. "I mean, no. I mean, not no."

Gabriel didn't want to twist the knife, but he couldn't stop himself from laughing. "Oh, Miles," he managed to get out between laughs. "You better get your story straight."

"Well, of course it's good!" Miles protested. There was that knot of anxiety again. His legs felt suddenly weak and almost gave out under him, so he sat down next to Gabriel, turned slightly to the side so he didn't have to look him in the eye, and clutched his bag protectively against his chest. "But you don't, like, go around telling people. Not if I want Becky to keep letting me . . . you know."

"Trust me, I know." Gabriel nudged his shoulder against Miles's. "No, it's good," he nodded as he tried to regain his composure. "You shouldn't — I mean, that's private. But it's nothing to be embarrassed about." He shifted, even though he knew Miles was trying to avoid eye contact. "I mean, seriously, I was probably your age my first time." Younger, probably.

"Was that good, too?" Miles forced a small laugh, trying to lighten the mood, even if he was so humiliated he could just die right there.

"God, no," Gabriel laughed back, "it was fucking awkward. Almost literally. We were two boys in Texas having gay sex. It's not like we really knew what we were doing, Internet or no Internet."

Miles's chuckle was legitimate, though he still looked anywhere but at Gabriel. "Our sex ed actually spent five whole minutes on gay sex, just in case. Lube lube lube. And condoms. That's what they said."

"Again: Texas." Gabriel shrugged. This was veering dangerously close to talking about his background, so he returned the subject to Miles. "So, was it just once, or "—he nodded to the box in Miles's hands—"are we going through these at a healthy clip?"

The only other people Miles had discussed this with were Bobby, Peter, and Ganke, and the first two had been spared the details. (Ganke got the full story only because Ganke himself had shared his own nocturnal adventures at the newly reopened Brooklyn Visions with a classmate named Charlene.) So Gabriel was occupying a prestigious niche. "So there was this party in June that got busted by the cops and we snuck back into her house after we ran away and now basically whenever her dad's not around because he's the stereotypical 'I will murder you for even looking at my daughter' kind of guy, also possibly racist, I haven't decided yet."

"Mm, probably a racist," Gabriel said more confidently than he probably should have. "They usually are when it comes to their kids, I think." Dumb as it was, he was delighted to have Miles confide in him. It fulfilled some fraternal desire in him he'd only ever been faintly aware of. "So, wow, that's — I mean, that's quite the first time, you know? After an escape and an adventure like that? No wonder she was so impressed."

Miles nodded in agreement with both points. "Also, she appreciates me in my costume, even if some people around here don't."

"Well, sure," Gabriel shrugged, adding in a deadpan tone, "some people are into latex. And I bet she appreciates you even more out of it."

"It's not latex, it's . . . never mind." The second point was true, but it went without saying and just thinking about it made him blush. "So now you know my terrible secret and I know yours. We're even."

"Is having sex a 'terrible secret'? Are we in a 1950s PSA?" Gabriel nudged Miles again.

"Is getting your diploma something to to be so ashamed about, too?" Miles countered.

"Yeah, actually," Gabriel looked at the book again. "It is to me. So."

There wasn't any getting through to the older guy. But Miles was not deterred by the challenge. He screwed up the courage to turn around and show his face — even if he still couldn't keep eye contact for more than a second — and tapped the study guide. "Well, get over it. You're not worse than anyone else whether or not you have it, comprendes?"

"I'd say the same to you," Gabriel smirked, "but I guess that's a moot point now."

"Well, whatever. Fine, I'll drop it." Temporarily. At least until the shame counter reset and Miles wouldn't risk deflection or worse from Gabriel. "I still think you should do it," he couldn't help but add.

"I know you do," Gabriel said, his tone making it clear how much he appreciated the vote of confidence, pushy as it was. "Guess that means you'll help me study."

As if Miles hadn't had his fell of standardized tests to last the next hundred years. "Maybe we'll get our diplomas at the same time and Ma will throw a party for the both of us."

"Well, there's motivation," Gabriel chuckled. "I do like your ma's cocina criolla."