by Holly Hook
"Are you sure?" Becoming a monster was a horrifying thought, but so was the thought of spending the rest of my life in this tiny bubble. I wasn't sure what I hated more. As one of the Cursed, I might get to guard some god's business or run errands. Not much better, but my choices were few.
"I'm sure," Grandma said, turning up the TV volume. "Don't be like your father. Please. We can't let the store go out of business."
"Yes, Grandma."
I turned away, holding back tears. No matter what, there were no good possibilities for me. There couldn't be. I crept down the narrow hallway, defeat trying to pull me down.
I opened my bedroom door, and in my pit of despair, I bonked myself in the nose. Spots danced in front of my eyes and I blinked them away, sucking down the hot tears with a snort.
"Shh. And careful."
Someone stood in my doorway. A striped shirt. A braid dyed bright orange, hanging over a shoulder.
"Carmen," I whispered.
"Someone forgot to lock her window," she said with a growing, sly grin.
I blinked to make sure the tears were gone. Carmen knew I didn't like to be at home. Why'd she look for me here? "What are you doing?" I hissed.
“Well, he asked me to take him to your house.”
Oh. The tingles died. Randy. But didn't Randy already know where I—
Carmen stepped aside.
A guy sat on my bed, a really hot jerkwad guy, but he wasn't Randy.
I flinched as my heart leapt into my throat.
The messenger.
He waited, with his hands clasped on his lap. As he set his dark eyes on me, they widened in shock. Like I could not possibly, in a million years, be the person whose magic he felt.
Ringing filled my ears. This was real. I was getting out of Colton Corners, but probably to a nightmare.
“Get in here,” Carmen hissed, grabbing my arm.
"No." But in my shock, I let her pull me into the room. Carmen closed my bedroom door with her foot, the one she had a random cat sock on today.
Just a few feet away, the jerk remained, still and professional, on my bed. He eyed me and imitated my grandma with his snort. Heat filled my cheeks as I struggled to breathe. From the corner of my vision, I could see the outline of his perfect chest muscles under the tight white fabric of his uniform.
"What did you do?" he asked with that smooth voice. "Control someone's shoelaces so they tripped? Oh, wait. That's way too cool."
“What power did you just get?” Carmen asked, gripping my shoulders. “Tell me. Did you control water? Set something on fire? Create some awesome art piece? Maybe you're a descendant of Aphrodite and you can sway any hot guy you find.”
“Carmen!” I hiss. "You didn't find Randy, did you?"
"Randy? Where is he?" she asked, paling.
"He's fine," I blurted.
The messenger snickered. “Maybe you should let her answer? I have to get her to the sorting temple at sundown. Hurry, please."
Carmen rolled her eyes. “Well, you must have felt something after we left you two in the art room. He flinched and said someone had awakened. Since I didn't see you with us, I figured it was either you or Randy."
"Believe it or not, I feel magic here," the jerk said.
I swallowed, not trying to look at the messenger directly. He was here to escort me to a sorting temple. From what I heard, they personally drove you.
“I might have felt weird when Randy and I were alone,” I said, not wanting to give it away.
Carmen leaned close. “What kind of weird?”
“Just like I had a bunch of power or something. I don't know,” I said. That beat some deep darkness full of rage. “Now what?”
The messenger rose from the bed, leaving an indent in my sheets. “Happens sometimes. Wow, I can't believe you have magic. Your name is Giselle Bowman, right?”
“What's yours?" Maybe he was about to become less of a jerk now that he knew the truth. My heart raced as I stared right into the messenger's eyes. He was a full head taller than me—heck, most girls were taller than me, too—but he still seemed to take up the whole room. And his eyes, though brown, held hints of gold if I looked close enough. I'd heard of those flecks in god descendants' eyes, but this was the first time I'd seen them.
What would I see if I checked out my own?
"Ronin. And don't get any ideas, baby," he said, shaking his head. "I'm just your ride. Out of your league. And don't get any ideas from that, either."
Carmen squealed.
Nope. Once a jerk, always a jerk.
"Well, are you going to stand there gaping at me?" Ronin asked. "Or are you going to go get sorted so we can see that you, in fact, have shoelace tripping powers?"
"Shut up," I said.
"Oh. Touchy," Ronin said, lifting a hand. "Maybe I should take that possessive boyfriend of yours instead?"
"He's not my boyfriend," I snapped as Carmen's jaw dropped. “Look, I'm sorry if I said something to offend you. But I've had a weird day. Until half an hour ago, I thought I was sentenced to life in Colton Corners, and now I could literally be anything in a few years. Can you cut me some slack?”
“Giselle!” Grandma shouted from the living room. “Stop talking on the phone and get out here. The dishes need to be done. And stop dreaming." Amusement filled her words.
“Crap,” I said.
Ronin turned his grin into a frown. “She makes fun of you?"
Grandma stormed down the hallway.
My heart leapt into my throat. She never knocked. There was no time. Grandma shoved open my door and stood there, mouth gaping open as her gaze landed on Ronin. A newly lit cigarette fell from her lips to the floor, where it rolled by her feet.
“Grandma, I can explain,” I said.
Her eyes shone as she surveyed me, and then Ronin, and then Carmen. Grandma sucked in a breath as she tried to get her bearings.
“Who is this boy?” she asked, but her frightened tone told me she knew the answer. “If you're a messenger, you're making a mistake. Giselle's place is here.”
“Ma'am, you know the law,” Ronin said, stepping between me and her. Even from behind, I could tell that he was crossing his arms. “When a teenager manifests magic for the first time, they are to attend either Olympian or Cursed Academy for everyone's safety. She needs to go before she potentially trips, potentially hurts someone.” He sounded so professional. In front of Grandma, the jerk was gone. Disappointing.
Grandma peeked around him, eyes shining at me. "Is this true?" Her face fell.
I hadn't expected shock and heartbreak. "Well, I felt weird earlier, and I don't know what it was."
"It can't be," Grandma said. Her bottom lip quivered. "Giselle, you can't leave. Who's going to help me with the store when you graduate? You're supposed to help your family and support them, and now you're going to go off and...and..." she gripped the doorframe to steady herself.
Ronin looked back at me. His mouth fell open and he shrugged. I can't believe this, it meant. But he took a step towards Grandma. “Ma'am, the oracles wouldn't have sent me to Colton Corners if there was no chosen here."
"Giselle isn't chosen!" Grandma straightened and yelled in Ronin's face.
"Whoa," Carmen mouthed. She gripped my forearm. "Window escape?"
That sounded good. I wondered what would happen if we put Grandma and Jerkface in an arena.
“Grandma,” I rasped.
Ronin faced me. “She won't move out of the doorway, which I've been insinuating she do, so the window might be a good idea.” He turned his back on Grandma, who huffed in the doorway and stamped her feet. Yeah. She stamped her feet. "Well?" he asked.
My heart raced. My knees felt like jelly. I was about to leave everything I knew and I wasn't sure how to feel about that. My stomach heaved.
"I have to go," I told Grandma. "You heard him. It's the law." What if I hurt her? Sucked someone else into a black hole?
“You ungrateful girl!” Grandma shouted. “You'll be a
monster for this. I'm sure. Just up and leaving your grandma like this. I can't believe it.”
I couldn't take any more. "Close the door," I told Ronin.
He did, forcing Grandma out of the way. We all had a common enemy right now. Then he shoved my desk chair up against it as Grandma rattled the doorknob. Ronin stomped out the cigarette. "Standing there again, I see."
Grandma pounded on the door. “Giselle! Open up that door right now! Why are you doing this? Why are you leaving me?”
"I'm sorry!" I shouted before I could stop myself. Tears pooled in the corners of my eyes as I opened the window Carmen had used earlier. The screen was already out thanks to her, and I wiggled out, falling to the ground before Ronin could see this humiliation.
He climbed out after me as I picked myself up and wiped my eyes on my sleeve. I forced down a breath. Grandma beat on the door again. “Please!"
Carmen escaped, dropping beside us, and her jaw dropped. Her words undid my paralysis. Ronin tapped on my shoulder. He had no sarcastic comment this time.
Holding back another flood of tears, I turned from the back of the house and ran.
Chapter Three
I held back a classic awkward girl sob as I crossed the property line between my house and the neighbor's. You could tell from the overgrown grass and the dog piles everywhere. A terror that I'd trip and land somewhere bad forced me to slow enough for Ronin to catch up, and he slapped his big hand on my back, urging me forward.
I sucked in a breath.
He was touching me.
“Come on. Keep moving. I don't have all day,” he said.
"Go, Giselle!" Carmen came up behind us. "She's running through the house to the front door."
My skin tingled where touched me. As if Ronin were full of electricity. I'd never felt anything like it before. But then he let go. Of course. This was just business and he probably had to treat a lot of chosen like this when they freaked out. We continued across the neighbor's back yard. The dog barked at us from its rusty pen.
“I have a car parked two streets over. Your friend suggested I—”
“Go!” Carmen shouted.
The front door to my house banged open.
Yeah. It was time to run.
Ronin gave me a nudge, and with the tingle of his touch lingering on my shoulders, I broke into the best sprint a clumsy art girl could manage. It didn't help that I still wore my backpack.
That of course included stumbling on an uneven spot near the edge of the street. I went down as Grandma shouted my name from far back. My pack's strap slid off my shoulder and I wiggled out of it with an ache in my heart. All my art stuff was in there, including my sketchbooks, and I'd have to ditch it if I didn't want to keep falling like some ditz in a horror movie.
“Up,” Ronin said, wrapping his hand around my upper arm. "You'll trip people for sure."
“Giselle. You're making a mistake,” Grandma shouted. She was closing in. Her footfalls crushed tall grass. She grunted and a crumpled cigarette pack landed just feet from me. Really?
I got up, leaving my art supply sacrifice before her, and followed Carmen and Ronin out of the neighbor's yard. Grandma wheezed behind us as we ran across the mechanic's yard, zigzagged around car skeletons, and ran across Ridge Road and then over an empty, dusty lot. By then, Grandma seemed to have given up, and we found ourselves standing before a brand-new, black Mercedes parked on the side of Main Street.
I caught my breath as the three of us stood there, catching our breath. Well, Ronin just stood there holding onto a nearby light pole, leaning on it and looking cool. “Don't get your fingerprints on the ride, please. Better yet, don't trip over it."
I'd ignore him for now. “This car,” I puffed. “Is it yours?”
“Property of Olympian Academy,” he said, peeling himself from the post. “Hop in. All sortings happen at sundown."
I'd forgotten the gods had, after the disaster of the Awakening, decided to adapt to the modern age. The more important ones started running corporations while the minor ones, well, I wasn't sure what the minor ones did now. They didn't teach you about them.
"Well, this is it," Carmen said. Deep sadness filled her voice.
I turned to her. "Don't tell me you want me to stay, too. I mean, I don't want to ditch my friends, but—"
"You deserve to go be something," Carmen said. "Your grandma is out of her mind thinking you're better off at the store."
"Time," Ronin said.
"Carmen, maybe I am. I could be a blood-sucking serpent person or a werewolf or something else horrible in a few years."
Carmen frowned. "We don't know yet. It could be good."
Ronin tapped his fingers on the hood of the car. I whirled on him. "I thought you said not to get fingerprints on your ride? Or are mine not good enough?"
He backpedaled. "Just waiting."
"You must not know what it's like to have friends," I said.
Ronin frowned but he had no comeback. He just got into the car and slammed the door. A tingle of satisfaction swept over me. A small victory. "Well, Carmen, this is it."
She grinned. "We've got to come out and visit you."
"That might be dangerous."
"Tough luck."
We hugged, and swallowing down terror, I got into the passenger side once Ronin unlocked it, leaving Carmen there on the sidewalk. I waved to her. Carmen's chin quivered the tiniest bit. I was leaving. She was still trapped in this world of boarded-up stores and nothingness. And that put a lump in my throat.
Ronin started the car without a word. The air thickened in the vehicle and even though a rock station started playing a song, the thickness remained. Ronin worked his jaw, switched gears, and took off, leaving Carmen standing there in the dust.
* * * * *
I'm not going to freak out. I'm so not going to freak out.
The drive to the closest sorting temple, which I'd heard from our teachers was in the same town as the closest Academy campuses, took about an hour. As Ronin drove down the expressway and across open land like he was racing against time, I watched the sun lower towards the horizon. I didn't know why sortings had to take place near sunset but I didn't want to ask.
Ronin wouldn't stop working his jaw the whole way there, like he wanted to lash out at me. The last thing I felt in that car was welcome, but it wasn't as if I could leave.
"Um, what is the sorting temple like?" I asked forty-five minutes into the ride, just to break the horrible silence. Ronin had long since turned off the radio, which added to the tension.
"It's a temple."
"I know that. I was asking what it's like to get sorted."
"Like being sorted?"
I grabbed the fabric of my jeans and worked my nails into it. Was Ronin purposely being a jerk because it was part of the job, or was he always like this? "Look, if I said anything to offend you, I'm sorry. I get that your job is tough when you see people get sent to Cursed Academy."
Ronin just tightened his grasp on the steering wheel. I half-expected that cold, electric darkness to fill my limbs again, but it stayed absent. Relief. When people first started getting their powers, they were usually vague, but they slowly increased over the course of a few years until someone either became a full demigod (like Mr. Jerkwad might have been) or a full monster.
Ronin got off on an exit to Melchamp, a medium-sized town that had a pair of Academies somewhere around its limits, and continued to drive in silence. He gnashed his teeth some more. The sound made my blood roar in my ears. "Ronin, I don't know what I did to piss you off so if you could just tell me where I screwed up, please do. Even sarcasm is better than this."
Ronin shot me an angry smile. And yet he was still attractive, with his dark hair spilling around his perfect cheeks. Why did he have to be so hot? "You won't be anything good. Not from that town. And I doubt you'll last your first week at Cursed Academy."
"Glad you're confident this will go well," I said. A bit of hope had built in me after he faced
down Grandma, that maybe he wasn't so bad, but that died with scream. Of course he was just following the law. The car slowed at the end of the ramp and in my blind rage, I tried to push open the door, but it was locked. Ronin had control here. "Let me out."
"See?" he asked, clicking on the turn signal. "You definitely won't make it through your first week."
"But most people survive the Academies," I said, letting go of the door. My anger deflated. Weakness filled my limbs, reminding me that no matter what I turned out to be, I was still a skinny, hundred-and-five pound weakling who had never played a sport in her life. People in both schools learned fighting and magic, depending on what they were descended from.
"Not everyone," Ronin said, turning away. We rounded the corner.
"Is that a warning?" I couldn't figure out Ronin.
"Maybe." He turned a corner and we rode through a large downtown that actually had people walking around, ordinary people. Melchamp looked full of ladies with fashionable purses and guys with sports cars. Of course, the gods paid these folks to deal with having a couple of supernatural academies on their doorstep. Otherwise, towns emptied out.
"Look, maybe I won't die," I said, mainly to calm my racing heartbeat. "Not everyone has to learn to fight, do they? I don't think I'm descended from the god of war. Maybe I came from, say, the goddess of beauty?" Most descendants of her wound up with awesome jobs in the fashion or makeup industry. As an art kid I could live with that. Descendants of Ares? Military. Yeah, not me.
Ronin looked at me, struggling to hold back a laugh. "Aphrodite? You?" Then the laughter dam broke and he and almost swerved into a light pole. Ronin shut up and righted the car.
"I hate you! You almost got us into an accident and you harp on me for tripping." What a hypocrite.
"Good," he said, stopping for a traffic light. "You're a trip, Giselle."
"Maybe you should just take me back right now if I'm going to be such a disappointment." I crossed my arms and waited for Ronin to laugh some more, but he went into Silent Mode and made a left. Was it something I said?