He shrugged and replied, “It’s Tuesday.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means this isn’t my first rodeo. I’ve been around for almost a hundred years, and sometimes a guy needs a hobby.”
“Your hobby is killing monsters?”
“Either that or poker. This pays better.”
He pulled out a bent pack of cigarettes from his pocket. One was intact. He popped it in his mouth. A lighter appeared in his hand. The Zippo sparked, catching the end of the cigarette.
He exhaled a cloud of smoke. “Way more relaxing than yoga.”
Liv stood on shaking legs. The reality of the past half hour caught up with her. Heart thumping, she breathed in quick, short spurts of air. Her world darkened at the edges, threatening to pull her under. She felt faint.
“Probably not a good idea to leave those hangin’ around.” Nik hooked a thumb at the boxes.
A chill crept up her back despite the heat. She rubbed her arms, forcing the trickling panic to abate. She felt like she’d been dragged through the wash. Lungs shrunken and useless; thoughts set on tumble dry.
Liv slumped against the minivan. She caught Nik staring, eyes ringed with sympathy. It rubbed her raw.
“You going to be okay?” he asked.
“I can’t deal with this gods and monsters crap right now.”
Warm tears pressed at the backs of her eyes. The last thing she wanted was to breakdown. She’d done enough crying.
“Your mom, is she not in the picture? It’s her stuff, right? Why don’t you-”
“She’s in prison.”
“Oh.”
Nik refused to let the awkward silence settle. He blurred, appearing at her side. His speed startled her for the second time that night.
“You have a phone on you?” he asked, hand outstretched.
Liv hesitated, one hand searching the depths of her pockets, fingers grazing her cell.
“Why?”
“Just give it to me.”
The phone was barely out of her pocket when he took it from her. Fingers flying across the screen, he spoke without looking up.
“I’m leaving you my number. You don’t have to make a decision right now. Just, go be a teenager, take selfies or whatever it is that teens do.”
He handed the phone back to her. “But, if you change your mind, you know, about the whole gods and monsters thing, give me a call. I can help you figure it out. I owe you one.”
Liv smiled. “Thanks, for the offer, but I think I’ll pass.”
“It still stands- hey, I never caught your name.”
“It’s Liv.”
“Well, Liv, you know how to find me.”
He slung his bow over his shoulder and gave her a quick pat on the arm.
“Take care of yourself, Nik.”
“See you around, Liv.”
She watched him retreat to his car. The Charger rumbled to life moments later. He spun out of the parking lot, blasting Britney Spears into the night.
“Not if I can help it,” she whispered.
—ABOUT THE AUTHOR—
A.M. Lalonde is a writer of young adult urban fantasy and paranormal fiction. Her not-so-magical hometown in Northern Ontario, Canada is the inspiration for many of the settings in her stories. A lover of all things fandom and geeky. She spends her free time reading, binge-watching tv, and snuggling her life-partner Ben (the Shih Tzu). Her debut novel Iron Gods is the first installment in a new, action-packed series coming early 2017.
If you enjoyed Inconvenient Curiosity and would like to read more,
please visit: www.amlalonde.com
MELISSA
Kaitlin Bevis
I was the worst friend ever. Persephone, my best friend in the whole world was stuck hiding out in the Underworld from a psychotic serial rapist, and here I was hanging out at school like everything was normal. Except for the part where I was being asked out.
By the guy she liked.
And I was probably going to say yes.
Yeah, I deserved to burn for this.
“Melissa?” Concern flickered behind Joel’s easy grin. “Did you want to catch a movie tonight?”
“You’re…asking me?” I clarified for the third time, wincing even as I heard myself ask the question. It’s not that I’m stupid. Like, I actually do have an understanding of the English language. But no one had actually asked me out before.
I’m not ugly or anything, just human. A tall, twiggy human with boring brown hair, brown eyes, splotchy skin, and curves as flat as a pancake squished in a Panini press. My best friend, on the other hand, was a goddess. Literally. A petite, curvy little blonde goddess with amazing green eyes and the uncanny ability to make all the light on the room sparkle around her like a beacon shouting, “look at me, look at me, aren’t I perfect?” With her beside me, I might as well be wallpaper.
“Who else would I be asking?” Joel sounded amused, but it was a strained amusement. Could he really be worried that I would reject him? Joel might not be a god, but divine wasn’t a bad way to describe him.
“Kora,” I replied like the answer was a no brainer.
Persephone preferred her middle name on account of hers being so…unique. I didn’t blame her. Not that my name was much better. Melissa may sound normal, but in Demeter-land it’s not an actual name. It’s a title that used to identify her priestesses back when they were well enough known and numerous enough to have a title. My mom must have been feeling nostalgic when she’d been ordered to have me so Demeter’s daughter would have her own personal playmate and priestess. To say my entire life revolved around Persephone would be an understatement. But she hadn’t known until a few weeks ago that she was a goddess at all, so it wasn’t like she had anything to do with me being named after a job position, instead of, you know, a person. But I’m not bitter or anything.
“Kora isn’t here,” Joel replied. “Besides,” his bright blue eyes looked me up and down. “I’m sure she’s nice and all, but she’s kind of quiet, you know?”
“Not really.” Persephone comes off as shy to most people, but one-on-one she never stopped talking. She’s got an opinion about everything. And it generally came from the moral high ground, which I guess made sense. Gods don’t do so well with shades of grey. It’s not easy for a mere mortal like myself to live up to her ideals of right and wrong. But I manage.
Joel cleared his throat and I realized I still hadn’t answered his question. I put a hand on my hip and studied him for a moment. “What movie?”
“Lady’s choice.” His blonde hair fell into his eyes in a fashion meant to appear careless, but I knew better. He probably spent forever in front of a mirror, preening. How shallow.
My smile tightened and I ordered myself to stop doing that. Not every encounter I had with people required a sarcastic narrative. I didn’t have to take the psychology elective to know that my penchant for insults was probably a pathetic attempt to compensate for playing second fiddle all my life to a goddess. But I’m not bitter or anything.
“Pick me up at seven.” I turned on my heel and walked away before he could respond. Yeah, jerk move, but my heart was pounding in my chest and any second now I’d turn beet red and all the snarky thoughts in my head would spew out of my mouth like verbal vomit.
Joel cleared his throat. “From…where?”
Right. I rushed back to give him my address.
“See you at seven,” he promised, flashing me an easy grin.
My lips moved and words fell out but I couldn’t for the life of me guess what I’d said. Probably something stupid. That whole conversation with Joel felt like one of those cheesy movie scenes where all the details fade into the background except his face. When his gaze locked to mine, everything and everyone else vanished.
Including time apparently. A quick glance at my phone confirmed that I was late for class. The wooden bridge solidified beneath my feet as I rushed across the steady beams too fast to appreciate the vast array
of colorful trees and bushes thriving around campus like something out of an over enthusiastic landscaper’s wet dream. I ducked into a white, window-walled building and made it to my classroom a few minutes after everyone else had settled. Smiling apologetically at my Latin teacher, I slid into my desk.
With my thoughts bouncing back and forth between the excitement of Joel asking me out, my worry for Persephone, and the guilt that came with both, I didn’t hear a word in Latin class, or any other class for the rest of the day. Oh, who was I kidding, it wasn’t like I paid attention on normal days either. What was the point of working my butt off in school when my whole life was already laid out for me? It didn’t matter what I learned or how I applied myself or what I wanted. My future was set.
It wouldn’t be a bad life. I’d have my best friend, lots of money, and not to mention immortality. All I had to do was believe in someone standing right in front of me. It was a good deal. If I’d been asked about it, I probably wouldn’t hesitate before saying yes. But no one had bothered and that bugged me more than I cared to admit.
But none of that mattered right now because Joel asked me out.
On a date.
Me!
It’s wrong right? Being this happy while your best friend hides out in the Underworld?
My stomach was in full revolt against my emotional whiplash by the time I got home. Thinking of Joel set butterflies flapping against my insides. But thinking of Persephone drenched those wings in poison.
“I’m home!” I called, pushing open the door. The faint sound of the television from deeper within the house was my only reply. Shrugging, I grabbed a cookie off the bar that separated my living room and kitchen. I waited for her to say something disapproving about my choice of snack (hey, she made them, if she really didn’t want me stuffing my face with unhealthy snacks, why would she bother? Mixed messages, anyone?), but her eyes were glued to the television set.
Despite her silence, my guilty conscience got the better of me, and I grabbed a cantaloupe and pineapple cut to look like a flower out of the vase she placed strategically in front of the cookies to inspire feelings of guilt, inadequacy, and pressure all without saying a word.
When I grow up, I want to be just as manipulative as my mother. I smiled at my own sarcasm and bit into the flower fruit. My mom made a killing selling whole fruit baskets designed to look like flower arrangements out of the fruit grown by Demeter’s priestesses all over the world.
The sound of Orpheus’ name coming from the television caught my attention and I turned to see what was going on. The rock star sat in a chair next to a hospital bed speaking in a somber voice. Weird. He was usually pretty upbeat.
But for once, his golden features just didn’t do it for me, so I headed to my room instead of obsessing over his every word. I had a date to get ready for. But after finishing my fruit, two cookies (take that, Mom!), and draining a glass of milk, I still hadn’t managed to pick out the perfect outfit for tonight.
As I rummaged through my closet for the seventh time, my hand paused on a dress Persephone borrowed at the Orpheus concert. I drew back like I’d been stung as the memories from that night came flooding back.
I’d imagined every reaction Persephone could possibly have to finding out she was a goddess, every question, every conversation, and every fun thing we do with her powers. But I’d never thought she’d be mad at me. The look she’d had on her face when she’d realized everything I’d kept from her had felt like a punch in the gut. And then she’d nearly been abducted by Boreas, and was trapped down in the Underworld and everything went wrong. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
I’d spent the first few weeks after she’d gone under in a daze of worry and fear. But then, once the fact that she was safe sunk in, I felt something else. Relief. For once, I was free to do what I wanted.
Wasn’t that terrible? Persephone was my best friend. It wasn’t her fault every minute of my life had revolved around hers since my conception. I shouldn’t feel relieved or happy or anything good right now, should I? I shouldn’t be going on dates and picking out clothes and having fun.
Yet here I was, so might as well make the most of it.
After careful deliberation, I chose a short, green sundress that almost made it look like I had curves and modeled it in front of the mirror. Casual enough but still dressy. Perfect.
Next I rummaged through my bathroom drawers searching through an array of what my mom referred to as dollar a drop shower gels. My allowance, my choice, and guys liked smells, right? Every magazine harped on how important scent was to guys because they were like, super connected to their scent glands or something. Time to put that to the test.
I avoided the floral scents on principle, finally settling on a purple concoction called Love Spell because I had shampoo and conditioner that matched, then took a long shower. Choosing the right makeup and jewelry took almost twice as long as usual, but soon I was as satisfied with my appearance as I’d ever be.
The doorbell rang, startling me from my reverie and I glanced at my phone. Six-thirty? He was early.
“Melissa!” Mom called.
When I walked into the living room, I found Joel shifting uncomfortably under my mother’s steely gaze. He saw me, and his eyes swept up and down in a once over Mom couldn’t miss.
“You didn’t tell me you were going on a date.” Mom’s smile did nothing to warm the chill in her tone.
I shot her a smile of my own. “You didn’t ask.” Or say so much as a single word to me since I walked in the door for that matter.
That realization gave me pause. The cookies might be an act, but my mom did care enough to at least feign interest in my day. I’d never be her top priority, not like Demeter was, but I did rank on the list.
I turned and looked at mom, coming out of my own thoughts enough to see her clearly for the first time. Mom looked worried. Tired. There were circles under her dark eyes, and her brown hair hung loose, not in one of her usual half-bun like things she kept trying to bring back (it wasn’t happening). She hadn’t even put on make-up today.
“Is she–” I couldn’t finish the question, not without making Joel curious about the whole situation and we didn’t need that right now.
“Everything is fine.” This time Mom’s smile reached her eyes. “I’ll tell you all about it when you get home.”
Something had happened. I watched Mom carefully for a minute, determined she was telling the truth about everything being fine, and then nodded. She could lie, only gods lacked that particular ability, but she wouldn’t dare lie about anything involving Demeter or her daughter.
“Okay. See you tonight.” I walked out the door, motioning Joel to follow. I paused at his car, a juniper Chevy Thunderbird and waited for him to unlock the door.
“Be home by ten!” she shouted after me.
“What are we seeing?” He opened the door for me, wisely refraining from commenting on the exchange with my mother.
“A chick-flick of course. I’ll pick when we get there.” When I sat down and pulled on my seatbelt, I caught his eye to show him I was joking. “What do you want to see?”
He listed off a few movies, and one caught my ear. Some superhero’s origin story.
“It starts in ten minutes,” Joel pointed out. “Did you want to grab dinner first and catch the nine o’clock instead?”
That would make it difficult to be home by ten. “Nah, the first fifteen minutes are previews, we won’t miss much.”
He grinned and stepped on the gas. The drive to the theater was harrowing but on the bright side we didn’t miss a second of the movie. My pulse pounded with adrenaline from the wild ride as I watched the hero’s journey unfold on screen.
The movie was all right, nothing spectacular. Not from the little bit I saw anyway. Somewhere after the first preview Joel stretched and put an arm around me. It got hard to pay attention after that.
My breathing went shallow, and my pulse pounded in my throat. I looked up at Jo
el, the lights from the movie gleamed in his blue eyes and my mouth went dry. Was he going to kiss me?
You know what? No. I was not going to be the weak-kneed nervous girl waiting for him to make the first move. I’d spent my whole life waiting on the whims of other people. Not this time.
I shifted out from under Joel’s hand, and tossed my hair back.
“Sorry,” he whispered. His face went red. “I–”
I cut him off with a kiss. He got over his surprise quick enough, his arms wrapped around me, and he kissed me back.
A lot.
When the movie ended, something I only noticed when the house lights rose, we stumbled out of the theater. My hair was disheveled and I had the beginnings of a hickey on my neck but that didn’t stop me from yanking him back into a kiss before his car door closed.
We paused long enough to drive somewhere else, not far. Just behind the theater I think, I wasn’t exactly paying attention, and then we did more. A lot more. Like…yeah.
I never figured I’d be easy. But this was Joel. Persephone was going to come back from the Underworld at winter’s end, and then guys like him were going to forget I existed again. I needed to live this up now even if that meant I was a terrible friend or an insult to women everywhere or a rotten human being. Whatever. It was amazing.
I didn’t say anything on the ride home. Not in a bad way. There was just no need to speak or think. I didn’t know how I felt about what just happened.
My blood pumped too fast making me jittery, but I couldn’t tell if I felt sick or excited. A part of me was disappointed in myself, but the rest of me had enjoyed it. Did that make me a slut?
Joel kept up an easy conversation the entire way home so the silence wasn’t awkward. I appreciated that. When he pulled up to my house at nine-fifty-eight, he turned to me and asked, “Next Saturday?”
I smiled at him. “Buy me dinner next time, huh?”
His eyes widened in surprise and he burst out laughing. “We skipped that, huh?” Then he seemed to think over his words. “I’m okay with just dinner too, you know? I’m not expecting–”
That Moment When: An Anthology of Young Adult Fiction Page 3