“Miss. Perry?”
She started at the sound of her name, spinning her head around to find that Mr. Kemmer had moved and was now standing directly next to her desk. She fought against the flush coming to her cheeks and cleared her throat.
“I’m sorry. What did you say?” she asked, ignoring the few laughs that came from the class, including the teacher himself.
“I asked you what you thought of the Myth of Persephone, Spencer. You did read it, didn’t you?”
No. No she had not.
“Um…” she frantically searched the confines of her brain for any information on the myth. She’d heard it before, of course, it was just a matter of how much she’d managed to retain. “I thought…it was sad. That she got kidnapped by someone that she didn’t love.”
Close enough. Hopefully.
Then he lifted a thin questioning brow at her. Or not.
“How do you know that she didn’t love him?” he asked, causing her to frown.
“Well, he did kidnap her and force her to go somewhere she didn’t want to be.” She was pretty sure about that part.
“Ok, but what about later on? You know, some re-tellings of the myth claim that Persephone eventually fell just as in love with Hades as he was with her. When it came down to it, she didn’t want to leave him. She even forgave him for his initial approach.”
“That’s kind of sick,” Brodie said.
“That’s not the only version though,” Becca brought the attention back onto herself. “Others still say that Persephone didn’t fall in love with Hades.”
“Correct,” Mr. Kemmer agreed, thankfully stepping away from Spencer’s desk and back to the front of the classroom. “Let’s say that she did though, for arguments sake, fall for him in the end. How do you think that made her feel, having to be torn from his side six months out of every year?”
Lucky, she couldn’t help the stray thought.
“Pretty crappy I assume,” Sarah, a girl who sat across from Brodie answered. “It must have sucked to not get to be with the person she loved.”
“Except she did.” All eyes turned to Spencer. Shit. This time she’d spoken aloud.
“Explain,” Mr. Kemmer said, settling back against his desk, folding his arms over his chest like he was getting comfortable for a long debate.
“Well,” she took a deep breath, trying to draw on some of that hidden confidence she used to have in spades, “she at least got to be with him for six months, right? That’s more than most of us get. When we lose someone, that’s it. They’re gone. But she gets to keep returning to him.”
It was in that moment it must have clicked for half of the class, because they turned and quickly looked away from her, suddenly finding interest in things like the promotional posters on the walls and the gum stuck beneath their desks.
For a second there, many of them had clearly forgotten about her dead boyfriend. Mr. Kemmer, however, wasn’t one of them. His expression didn’t change a bit. In fact, he seemed even more intrigued now than before, reaching up to scratch at the light stubble on his chin.
“That seems to be a pattern among the Greeks, doesn’t it?” he asked then. “Who can name another instance where someone in a Greek myth tried to get their loved one back from the dead?”
That piqued her interest, and Spencer straightened a little in her seat. Back from the dead? That wasn’t possible. When people died, they were gone. Except, she now knew that wasn’t true either, didn’t she? Micah had died, and yet he’d somehow come back. As a ghost, but still…
“Wasn’t there that one guy?” Brodie said. “Played the guitar or something?”
“It was actually a lyre, but good job anyway,” Mr. Kemmer praised. “The myth Brodie is trying to refer to is the one of Orpheus. His wife was killed and not being able to bare being apart from her, Orpheus tried to get her back.”
“Like, bring her back to life?” Sarah asked.
“Exactly. He went down to Hades and tried to make a deal in order to bring her back from the dead. And he isn’t the only one either. Hercules also went in to retrieve people he cared about. You know, many religions speak of similar instances. Some don’t even believe these tales to be fictional myths at all, but a reality that we’ve long forgotten.”
“Wait, as in there are people out there who actually think it’s possible to bring someone back to life?” Becca said skeptically.
“Think about it,” Mr. Kemmer told them. “Logically it makes perfect sense. If there really is an afterlife, then there’s really a place where we all go once we’re deceased. And if that’s the case, then doesn’t it also make sense to say that there must be an entrance to this place?”
“Like a door,” Brodie added.
“Precisely.” Mr. Kemmer shook his head and lifted the chalk up once more. He began to scribble something else on the board while he spoke. “Anyway, back to Persephone. What do you guys think the pomegranate stood for?”
Someone answered, at least, they must have, because conversation continued on around her. Except Spencer wasn’t paying attention to any of that now. Her mind had honed in on one specific thing and one only, replaying it over and over again until she could practically feel it being tattooed on her brain.
A door. To the Underworld.
A door to the Underworld.
It was crazy…the Underworld wasn’t even real. It was a made up place created centuries past by people who explained the sun away by coming up with Apollo. Yet, three months ago if anyone had asked, she would have said ghosts weren’t real either.
What if there really was an Underworld? There at least had to be an afterlife, right? Micah’s spirit was real, which meant that spirits in general had to be real, and if that were the case, then they all had to end up somewhere.
If she believed in ghosts, then wouldn’t it be crazier to not at least humor the idea of an actual place for them to go? All stories were based off of some reality. Mr. Kemmer was always saying that. What if those myths weren’t all fictional? What if some of those events had really happened? Like Persephone, and Orpheus.
If they’d found a way to get to the Underworld, then why couldn’t she?
Micah had never mentioned anything about where he’d gone after his death, before he’d shown up in her room. She’d also never asked.
She’d never questioned him about what had happened before. When he’d shown up that first night, she’d wanted to know how, sure, and why, but she’d never bothered with the “where” of it all. What had it mattered to her where he’d been? He was here. That was the most important thing. Except now…
What if there was a way she could get him back for real?
A door to the Underworld.
Chapter 2:
She knew it was insane. But then again, so was believing that your dead boyfriend haunted your bedroom. And yet, Micah was there when she got home that afternoon right where she left him, sitting on the edge of the bed.
He was there, those same hazel eyes watching her openly as she entered and slowly shut the door at her back. The same unruly blond hair that brushed over his forehead and curled around the tops of his ears. And that damned gray t-shirt that stretched across his chest and the muscles he’d somehow managed to develop the summer before their freshman year.
Proof was right in front of her. Maybe not living, breathing proof, but proof none-the-less.
“Where did you go?” she asked, barely recognizing the sound of her own voice, so low and husky. She gripped the brass doorknob tightly in her hand, hoping the cold metal against her skin would help ground her.
He frowned, sucking in his bottom lip like he always did when he was unsure of something. When he shifted on the bed, moving to stand, the springs made no sound at all. There wasn’t even a wrinkle on the comforter where he’d been sitting.
“What do you mean?” he took on the same low tone as she had, sliding his hands into the pockets of his faded jeans.
Throughout the course of the day s
he’d realized something else. She’d never asked him where he went when she wasn’t around either. It just hadn’t come to mind, as focused as she was on getting back to him. It was selfish, really, for her not to have thought of this before.
“After…” she gripped the knob more tightly, “you died. Where did you go?”
“I’m not sure,” he told her. “I don’t remember.”
“What do you remember?”
“Waking up here. To you. That devastated look you had on your face, even though you were asleep.” He moved forward slowly, lifting a finger towards her cheek. Just before his skin would have brushed against hers, he dropped his arm. “The tear stains on your pillow.”
“That’s it?” She tried to take his hand, but hers ended up going right through his. She heaved a frustrated growl. “There has to be more. You had to have been somewhere.”
“What’s this about, Spence?”
“What about when I’m not here?” she asked, completely ignoring his question. “When you aren’t with me, where are you?”
This only seemed to confuse him further. He even took a step back like he needed space in order to think. Beginning to pace back and forth beside the bed, he dropped his gaze, the frown deepening as he clearly struggled to come up with an answer.
“I…” he stopped, and looked at her. “I don’t know. When I’m not with you I’m just… I’m not.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” she said.
“I know, but it’s like when you’re not around I’m asleep or something. I didn’t even notice it until you pointed it out. Almost like I somehow didn’t want to know or couldn’t know that without you I just…stop. If you’re close, down the street even, then I can be here if I want. But the second you leave…”
“Wait,” moving to the bed, she eased herself down to the edge and turned to keep him in her sights, “you’re saying if I’m around you exist, and if I’m not around you don’t have any memory of being somewhere else? It’s like, you’re here with me, then I go to school, and all of a sudden I’m back and you’re here with me again?”
“Yeah,” he said, the fear starting to trickle through his tough stance.
“Well, what happens when one of my parents walk in the room or something? You just disappear then, too, don’t you?”
“Not really. I linger sometimes, just in a form you can’t see. At other times I just will myself to different parts of the house. Or the yard. I went to the neighbor’s a couple times. Visited my mom. But that’s only when you’re here.”
They’d lived on the same street since they’d been four years old. Their parents had even been friends in high school themselves, which was how they’d been introduced in the first place. Her entire family had stood with his the day of his father’s funeral in the eighth grade.
That’d been the first time she’d held his hand. And he’d just never let go.
“Why are you suddenly asking me all this stuff, anyway?” he demanded to know, obviously unnerved by what they’d just discovered about him and his existence.
A part of her was afraid to tell him, afraid that if he knew what she was thinking he’d believe she was crazy, like maybe the accident had done a lot more damage to her than they’d all thought. But she steeled herself against the doubt. This was Micah, her best friend. Her boyfriend. The love of her life.
She opened her mouth to just spit it out when her name was suddenly called, followed closely by the pounding of footsteps on the stairs. She resisted the groan she wanted to make at being interrupted.
Micah gave Spencer one last long look as the footsteps drew closer. The second the sound of the knob turning came, he was gone like he’d never been there to begin with.
That was how Sydney found her, staring at the empty space that had once been sort of occupied only moments before. The blonde paused in the doorway, following her gaze, and then scrunched up her nose when she found nothing of interest there.
“Uh, hello?” she moved forward, waving a dramatic hand in front of her face, before plopping down onto the bed at her side. “Earth to Spencer. What are you looking at?”
“Nothing,” Spence somehow managed to say in an even voice. Schooling herself, she turned and flashed a forced smile at the girl she’d always considered to be one of her best friends. They hadn’t known each other as long as she and Micah had, but they’d met in middle school and had stuck like glue ever since. “What’s up?”
“Sorry I didn’t tell you I was coming over,” Syd told her, not sounding in the least bit sorry, “I just felt so bad about this morning and wanted to make sure that we were cool. You seemed kind of out of it the rest of the day. So…we good?”
“Yeah,” she shrugged. “Of course.”
“But you seemed so weird…”
“It had nothing to do with you, Syd, I swear. I just have a lot on my mind right now and sometimes it gets to me. I’ve always been easily distracted.”
“True, and even more so since—” She let out a curse. “Damn it! I did it again, I’m so sorry! How can you even stand to be around me? I’m just so clueless all the time!”
“Shut up.” Spence bumped her with her shoulder, laughing along with her as she almost toppled off the bed.
Almost as quickly as the easy moment had come, it left, Sydney suddenly sobering up. She cleared her throat, shoving her hands deep into the pockets of her purple and pink sweatshirt.
“We can talk about it, you know,” she said. “I’m your best friend, right? So I’m here for you if you want to talk about it. Ever.”
“I know.” And she did. It was just…she never wanted to talk about it. What would she say? I’m sad, yeah, but not for the reasons you guys think. Micah’s still here. Wanna say hi?
“I’m surprised you didn’t drag along Quinn.” Spencer changed the subject. “Where is she anyway?”
“Swim practice.” Syd rolled her huge blue eyes. She was always joking that she was afraid they would fall out of her head. “She’s off at six and we’re going to grab burgers at Phil’s. You should totally come!”
Spencer stopped herself from giving what had become her usual “no”. Something on her friend’s face screamed that she’d feel rejected unless she complied. Guilt over not being here for Micah swamped her, but by the same token, she couldn’t just keep blowing off Sydney. It wasn’t like any of this was her fault.
“Alright,” she said before she could convince herself otherwise. “Sure.”
Syd squealed and jumped off the bed straight into her arms.
For a second, Spencer thought over the feel of the hug, how warm and tangible it felt. Even when Micah was touching her during those few minutes he could hold himself corporeal, there was no heat. He wasn’t cold either; there was just an absence of temperature all together. It was like, she could feel him there, but almost in the same way one felt their own arm when they touched it.
Until this moment, she hadn’t even realized she missed the feel of a real hug.
* * *
Phil’s was one of the few places where kids in high school could go being that Willowbrooke was such a small town. Positioned in the middle of Main Street in a redwood building, the place always looked more like a rustic bar than a burger joint.
Truth be told, it had both, along with pool tables and dart boards. The place was already packed when they got there, and Spencer had to bite her tongue against the need to turn tail and run in the other direction.
The distinct smell of stale beer and old pizza accosted her, along with the din of laughter and chatter that rung in her ears. There was too much going on at once, something she would have found pleasing before but now was unaccustomed to.
It had been a while since she’d gone out with the girls, or even out period. That fact must not have gone unnoticed because people turned and watched as she, Sydney, and Quinn made their way to the corner booth. Their usual table. Or, it had been, before.
“Ugh, I’m starved!” Syd exclaimed, sliding onto
the red leather seat with ease.
“You? I’m the one who just came from practice.” Quinn dropped down next to her, leaving the seat on the other side open.
Spencer hesitated, just a split second, but it was enough. When she finally sat down and glanced across the table at her friends, they were grimacing.
“Habit,” Quinn mumbled, dropping her gaze to her lap where she wrung her hands.
“Don’t worry about it,” she assured them, even though inside it felt like she was dying a little. This had been their spot alright, except it had been Micah’s as well. They’d always sat in the same places, with the two girls across from her and her boyfriend. They used to press their knees together under the table so no one would see.
That first time, right after their first date, it had been an accident. He’d bumped her and had instantly stilled. The move had sent a rush of heat flowing through her body, like tiny electrical tingles shooting up her spine. She remembered thinking how funny it was…that they’d brushed against one another a million times before, and yet this one instance was so different.
“We can switch,” Syd said. “I can move over there with you.”
“No,” she realized she’d rushed the word out too quickly when they flinched, and calmed her voice. “I mean, no, it’s alright, really. Let’s just order.”
The mirrored looks on their faces made it clear they didn’t believe her, but neither of them pressed. She loved them for it. Ever since the accident, they’d given her space when she needed it. They understood that there were some things she just wasn’t ready to talk about.
“So how do you guys think you did on that bio quiz today?” Quinn asked, lifting her menu even though they’d all had it memorized since they were thirteen.
“Please, let’s not talk about school right now,” Syd groaned. “I totally tanked that stupid quiz. When my dad finds out, I’m going to be a shut-in for sure. So not looking forward to that happening.”
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