Chapter 9

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The door slams shut with a bang that echoes through the classroom. On the other side of it, Scott and Jean are leading Logan towards the kitchen—where the Professor asked them to "find Logan something to eat while I have a word with Addison." On this side of the door, the Professor and I stand/sit with only silence between us. I stare at the door for a while, feeling the Professor's gaze on me, and struggling to find something to say.

"You can stare at the door for hours." He breaks the quiet. "But it isn't going to change."

I turn around slowly to face him, my voice barely above a whisper. "Why wouldn't you just tell me?"

The Professor sighs. "You're not the easiest person to explain things to, Addison."

I step forward. "You could've at least told me he didn't even remember my name." My tone holds more disbelief than anything else. I can't find it in me to be angry with him anymore. I'm too crushed for that . . . like my world rose for just a moment, and then collapsed when Logan looked at me, but didn't see me.

"I tried before, but you wouldn't listen. Perhaps you'll hear me now?"

I nod and sink into one of the desks in front of the Professor. He looks concerned, but also slightly relieved that I sat down—like he thought I was going to faint or something. Maybe I look as awful as I feel. I lean forward on the desk, showing that I am listening intently.

After a second of silence, he begins. "There is a blank space in Logan's mind, almost like a wall. Any memories from before this wall was established are blocked, inaccessible to him."

"And this wall starts . . ."

"Fifteen years ago."

I stare at him as the full realization of what this means sinks in. Fifteen years ago . . . meaning the last time he saw me, and the last time I saw him. An idea hits me, a small ray of hope, and my attention refocuses on the Professor. He speaks before I can. "Yes, it is possible for this wall to be broken, but he can't do it himself."

"But you could help him." I suggest. "You're the greatest telepath I know, Professor. If anyone can help Logan remember his past it's you."

"Yes, and I intend to, but only if he'll let me. And only after we figure out what Magneto wants with him."

"Maybe he wants to torment me." I mutter, sitting back in my chair. The Professor grins. "Addison, not everything is about you."

I play along and press a hand to my heart in fake shock, then gasp. "You mean I am not the center of the universe? Well, then what is? The sun? Professor, you're beginning to sound like a Greek philosopher."

He chuckles and I grin, feeling the tension between us leave—like a weight has been lifted from me. My mind shifts back to Logan, and my hand absentmindedly goes to the tags around my neck. I look at the Professor again. "I could help with Logan's memory. I mean, between the stories Victor used to tell me, the things Logan told me, and the things I was there for, I know more about his past then most people. I could—"

"I'm afraid I can't let you do that."

"Why not?" I ask in protest.

"Because he needs to figure it out on his own."

"Why?"

"Logan's mind is fragile, Addison."

I look at the Professor skeptically. "He's a strong man, Professor. I think he could—"

"Strength has nothing to do with it." He calmly interjects. "The mind can only handle so much. If you overwhelm it with information, it could collapse."

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