“This is what you wanted, right?” he asked then, voice turning to a whisper without losing its harsh tone. “You would prefer to see me as the monster you believe me to be.”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” she said shakily.
He lifted his left hand and she flinched. He scowled at her for the move, and then snapped his fingers. Stepping away, he turned from her the same second Ferris appeared out of thin air.
“Take her,” he ordered the Ferryman. “We’re done here.” He was already more than thirty feet away when she found her voice again.
“Hadrian, wait!” She felt hollow when he turned a bored look back at her. She was clearly so unimportant, not even his anger could keep his interest in her long enough. “Our deal?”
He half laughed, half grunted. “Don’t worry, Spencer. Our agreement still stands. You survive six months in the Underworld and I’ll give you back your precious Micah.” He waved a hand at them. “Now go. I’ve had enough of your company.”
She bit her tongue against the retort and allowed Ferris to take her hand. The last thing she saw as the smoke engulfed them was Hadrian’s retreating back.
Chapter 10:
Last night had been…strange. Things had started off oddly enough, and had just gone downhill from there. She’d never really bothered taking the time to ponder over what she’d be doing in the Underworld, but exploring with the king hadn’t come to mind.
It had been foolish of her not to ask questions, not to demand to know more about what she was getting herself into before agreeing to the deal. She’d just been so determined to find a way to bring Micah back. To make him whole.
To make herself whole.
She hated Hadrian for being right. She was selfish. The real problem was that she couldn’t remember if she’d always been that way, or if it was a new trait brought on by the accident and Micah’s death.
There was only one way to find out, and that was by completing the bargain and getting Micah back for good. Once that happened she’d be able to return to the person she was. Everything would go back to normal. With him she’d been better. She’d laughed more, been more motivated. She’d had hopes and dreams and goals.
Now all she had was the ache in her chest.
Once this was all over and she and Micah were happily walking off into the sunset again, she was going to think up a job that would let her live life to the fullest.
She wanted to do something that challenged her, excited her, enticed her. No, she didn’t just want it, she needed it. Because, truth be told, no matter what everyone else kept telling her, she had died that day on the bridge.
She’d died right alongside Micah, and just like him, a part of her hadn’t come back.
She felt him before she saw him, sitting in the back corner just like yesterday. Instead of acknowledging his presence, she swiftly ignored him, sliding into her own seat by the window.
Even though it wasn’t possible given the distance between them, she could have sworn she heard him chuckle.
Tell me, if you died tomorrow, would you look back on your life and feel a sense of accomplishment? Would you feel like you’d been a good friend? A good daughter? Hadrian’s harsh words from the night before came flooding back.
She hadn’t been a good friend or daughter lately. She wanted to hate him for being right, for pointing it out to her, but at the same token she couldn’t. He was just being honest, which was something that no one—including her—seemed to be doing the past few months.
If she’d been honest with her friends, they would have known why she was being detached, and if they’d just been honest with her, then she would have realized sooner how bad of a friend she’d become.
What about Hadrian? What was he hiding? What kind of secrets could the Lord of the Underworld be keeping?
“So I think by now we all know that the Persephone myth was based off of the Greek’s need to explain the changing of the seasons,” Mr. Kemmer’s voice drew her attention. “The fact that she goes under ground for six months symbolizes the seeds waiting in the dirt to sprout come spring. But what do you guys think Hades might stand for in this story? Do you believe he was merely chosen as the antagonist because he conveniently lived in the Underworld? How about you, Spencer? How do you feel about all this?”
There was a time when she flourished under the spotlight. That time wasn’t now, and the sudden summons to answer made her skin feel like a thousand insects were crawling over her.
She’d look stupid if she stuttered or spoke too quietly for them to hear; then they’d really judge her. But if she appeared confident, no one would notice or care if she got the answer wrong. They’d just shrug and turn their attentions elsewhere.
“I feel that they chose him as the antagonist not only because, like you said, he lived in the Underworld which fits conveniently with the seeds underground, but also because Hades is the God of the Dead. During the winter, it must have been a lot harder for everyone to maintain their health and stay fed. I’m sure many must have died, and in times of cold and hardship, things must have seemed bleak. What better way to cope than to place the blame on a force bigger than yourself?”
“I don’t agree.”
Before she could stop herself, she snapped her head in Hadrian’s direction. He was watching her, twirling a pen between the fingers of his left hand as he made direct eye contact.
“Why not, Mr. Hale?” Mr. Kemmer asked.
“It’s simple really,” Hadrian shrugged. “Hades isn’t the God of Death.”
“Right, that’s very true. That would be—”
“Thanatos,” he went on. “He is Death, not the God of the Underworld. Hades has nothing to do with the cold season, or the passing of living things. He only governs their souls once they’ve passed over the river. Which, if you want my opinion, is a much more important job anyway.”
“Why do you say that?” Spencer couldn’t help but ask.
“Because killing is easy,” he said matter-of-factly. “The taking of a life holds little to no challenge at all. It’s inevitable in all living creatures, preordained. Foreseen. A body is fragile, easily breakable. How powerful can the God of Death be, when all he has to do is sit back on his heels and wait?”
Finally sensing the tension between them, Mr. Kemmer cleared his throat. “Getting back on topic here, Hadrian, what do you think they chose Hades for then, if not for the reasons Spencer gave us?”
“Oh,” he cockily leaned all the way back in his seat, a clear sign that he was all but done with the conversation, “I never said that the Greeks didn’t agree with Spencer, just that I didn’t. The Greeks chose Hades for the very reasons she mentioned. They weren’t the brightest of civilizations.”
People started mumbling among the class, giggles and whispered words filling the air.
Mr. Kemmer didn’t seem to appreciate Hadrian’s response as much as the others. His mouth thinned out in a fine line, and his gaze hardened with that stern look that only an adult could truly pull off.
He was more than likely about to order Hadrian to the principal’s office, when the bell chose that exact moment to chime, cutting into the banter and turning it into the sounds of shuffling papers and scraping chairs against the tile.
“Read pages 136 to 177 tonight,” was what he ended up saying before turning to the whiteboard to prepare for next period’s class.
Spencer shut her book and stuffed it into her backpack along with her pen. The zipper stuck a little, so when she flung the strap over her shoulder, one of her notebooks flew out, scattering blank lined paper all over the place. As she scrambled to collect it all, a smaller piece caught her attention out of the corner of her eyes.
It was fluttering to the ground just like the rest, but it was square and colorful. She couldn’t make out exactly what it was, but Brodie stooped to pick it up when it landed by his foot.
The tight frown on his face confused her, and she didn’t know what to say when he gingerly held it out to
her.
“Geez, Perry,” he said, “getting a little into this whole Hades thing, don’t you think?”
She shook her head, but he’d already turned his back to her and was halfway out the door. When she glanced down she realized what he’d been talking about and she felt her face flush with warmth from both a mixture of embarrassment and anger.
It was a Polaroid photograph of a man she didn’t recognize dressed as the devil. Not really even Hades at all, but Lucifer with the horns and the red skin and everything. Except he looked creepy, evil. This wasn’t just the typical Halloween costume getup either. Whoever had dressed for this picture had known someone with movie magic skills.
The man held a pitchfork high over his head, beady black eyes narrowed. At his back stood a tall orange and black tree.
There was only one place that had foliage like that.
She looked up and instantly locked eyes with Hadrian. He was standing on the other side of the room by the door, a disgusted look on his face. She could practically taste the derision directed her way.
The second she met his gaze, his expression morphed until he was giving her that dangerous grin she’d already gotten so used to seeing on him. He exited the room without a second glance.
The bastard had planted this photograph in her backpack as payback for last night. What a jerk! What had he hoped to gain? Did he want to embarrass her in front of her classmates?
Spencer crumpled the Polaroid in her hand, tossing it into the trash on her way out.
* * *
She stepped outside onto the quad prepared for a fight, but heaved a sigh of relief when her eyes found her two best friends sitting at their usual lunch table. Alone.
With no Hadrian in sight, she headed over with a lighter step, plopping down on the empty bench across from them. When she flashed a smile she actually felt reach her eyes, the two blinked at her.
“What?” she asked, digging into her fruit cup with the frail plastic spork they all pretended could pass as a utensil.
“Nothing, it’s just you look so…normal,” Sydney said, and then received an elbow in the side. “Ow! Well she does! And why are you always doing that! I’m going to have bruises there for the rest of my life!”
“Cause you keep saying stupid things!” Quinn retorted, but she added a laugh to ease the blow. “What she means is...you seem to be having a good day. It’s nice to see.”
She shrugged, suddenly feeling less hungry than she had only seconds before. Luckily she was saved from having to say anything by Syd, who was already jumping to another topic.
“So dad’s out this weekend and I’m having a party!” she squealed. “It’s going to be the bomb! Everyone is invited!”
“No one says bomb anymore,” Quinn pointed out, but was ignored.
“I’ve already got half the school saying that they’ll come!”
“I don’t think I can make it,” Spencer said automatically, grimacing when she realized it too late.
“You don’t even know what day it is,” Syd’s voice had lost most of its spirit.
“And you have to come,” Quinn added, pointing the tip of her spork at her as if she was wielding a weapon instead of the thin barely sharp white plastic. “Enough is enough, Spence. A party will do you good.”
“What’s this I hear about a party?” Hadrian appeared out of nowhere, dropping down on the bench next to Spencer without even looking her way. He opened his chocolate milk, glancing between the two girls across from them.
Sydney brightened once more. “It’s this Saturday,” she told him, “at my place! You’re totally invited.”
“Well if I’m totally invited…” his dark blue eyes sparkled, “how can I turn you down?”
Spencer wanted to punch him, but a quick look towards her friends showed that they’d completely missed the fact he was making fun of them. It wasn’t like the guy had done it using smoke signals or sign language.
“I’m sure Hadrian has other stuff to do,” she said, staring at him until he turned to meet her glare.
His look was one of pure innocence.
Oh, the guy was good.
“There is something that I have to tediously deal with first—”
Had he just not so subtly called her tedious?!
“—but as long as I put in twelve hours it doesn’t matter when I do it. Count me in, Sydney. It’s been a while since I’ve attended a good party. How about we swap numbers so you can text me the address?” Hadrian reached into his back pocket and pulled out an iPhone. The case cover had flames all over it.
Ha ha.
As the three of them exchanged information, Spencer stewed. How dare he agree to go to a party hosted by her best friend! What part of stay out of her world didn’t he get?
She didn’t see the point to any of it. What could he possible find so interesting about her life that he actually wanted to go to a high school kegger? And it would be a kegger; Syd was notorious for her flashy/trashy parties. The girl hadn’t been using it as a figure of speech earlier when she’d said half the school was going to be there.
Despite how badly her friends wanted her there, there was no way she was going to that party. She already had to spend enough time with him as it was. They could all have fun without her.
“Nice move with the photo earlier,” Hadrian’s low voice pulled her out of her thoughts.
Syd and Quinn had begun planning the party, oblivious now to the two of them. They gabbed on about how to get the alcohol and whether or not balloons were needed to help create party ambiance.
“I was very impressed,” he went on. He’d slid closer during her space out so that now his shoulder lightly brushed against hers. “I’m curious though what statement you were trying to make. Was it just to show me what you really think of me?”
Her mouth gapped a little and she snapped it shut, tightening her hands into fists under the table. “As if I don’t already know that you’re the one who put it there.”
“Me?” He tapped his finger to the center of his chest. “I did nothing of the sort.”
“Yeah,” she gave him a droll stare, “right.”
He laughed and shook his head. “You’re a mystery to me, Spencer Perry. Now about this party, should we go together?”
This time she couldn’t stop her mouth from dropping all the way and staying there. “You’re not serious.”
He shrugged. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Well,” she said, “we don’t really like each other for one.”
His mouth twitched, but he kept the smirk at bay.
“And for two,” she went on, “we don’t really like each other.”
“I was speaking more in regards to a matter of convenience,” he told her after a moment’s pause.
“Convenience?”
“Yes. I just figured seeing as how you and I would be leaving together—”
“We will not!” She bit her bottom lip hard when she realized how loud she’d just been. Slightly embarrassed, she slid her gaze across the table to find Quinn and Sydney staring at her with surprised looks.
“Fine,” Syd held up both hands, “we won’t get the yellow solo cups instead of the red, jeez, Spence. Who knew you were such a classics cop.”
“Which is funny,” Quinn added with a mischievous grin of her own forming, “considering I very distinctly recall her claiming she prefers the blue ones. Something about how pretty they were and how awesome the color blue is, blah, blah, blah. Actually, Hadrian, those are kind of the same color as your eyes.”
Could this day get any worse?
“You’re right.” Syd leaned in as if to get a better look, though Spencer knew the truth. That girl had had his eyes memorized from the very first second they’d met. “That dark blue almost black. It’s Spencer’s favorite color, you know.”
Yes. The day could, in fact, get worse.
“No,” she felt Hadrian’s eyes on her but refused to look back, “I didn’t know that.”
“Yup.” Syd said. “There was this one semester a few years ago where all she’d wear was blue. Eventually we all staged a coup and raided her closet. It was for the best of mankind, trust me. There are only so many blue outfits a girl can own, before she starts developing the nickname Blueberry.”
“People actually called you that?” he asked, the joy he sickly found in that apparent.
“Shut up.” It was the best she could come up with.
“Oh yeah,” Quinn joined in. “All the time. The only reason they even stopped was because she got a new one when Mic—Hey!”
Sydney had dutifully jabbed her in the side. “Trust me,” she said when she got the glare, “it was your turn this go around.”
Seemingly figuring out her mistake, Quinn glanced sheepishly in Spencer’s direction. “Sorry.”
A strained pall had instantly surrounded them, and she felt the fresh stirring of guilt in the pit of her stomach. It wasn’t fair of her to expect them to bury their memories of Micah. They hadn’t loved him the same way she had, or known him quite as long, but they had loved him.
“It’s ok,” she said, hoping that her friend could see the truth of that statement in her eyes. “Really. You knew him too. He’s bound to come up a lot.”
“Are you sure?” Quinn asked.
She took a deep steadying breath, then, “Yeah. Yeah I am.”
When she felt Hadrian watching, she glanced his way. A strange sensation flooded her chest.
The look he was giving her now lacked all signs of teasing and ire. In fact, if she wasn’t mistaken or just wishfully thinking—for reasons unknown to her—he actually looked like he might be…impressed.
Hmm. Maybe the day wasn’t so bad after all.
Chapter 11:
“Remember that time in the sixth grade when you threw up in front of the girls’ locker room?” Spencer shut her laptop and climbed onto the bed. Resting on her stomach, she dangled her feet in the air.
Micah groaned and mirrored her move, dropping down next to her. “Don’t remind me. I was made fun of for weeks!”
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