by S. L. Stacy
The corners of my mouth start to tremble. I bite my lip to keep from crying. “No. I will be…but not yet. Maybe not for a while. I’m afraid…never mind.” I start picking at the croissant I bought for breakfast, but haven’t been able to eat yet.
“Afraid that what? You can tell me, Carly. I might understand. Maybe more than anybody else.”
“I guess I’m just afraid I’ve already used up all of my chances.”
“Chances for what?”
“You know. For great love. Happiness.” I sigh. “I feel like, in all of these shows I watch and books I read, the main character always gets two chances at great love. And she always ends up with one of them.”
Jasper looks suspicious. “Are you talking about Twilight?”
“Not specifically. And I thought you didn’t read that.”
“I didn’t. But I did watch the movies this weekend after Dionysus mentioned them,” he admits. I hold his gaze, eyebrows raised. “What? Kristen Stewart’s hot.”
“Anyway,” I continue after a pause, shaking my head in bewilderment, “I was thinking about it, and I kind of feel like I’ve already had my two. Alec…and Dolos. Even after everything Dolos and I went through—it wasn’t always good, but when it was, it was beautiful. I know I’m never going to meet anybody quite like him, or feel quite the same way about anybody, ever again.”
We sit in silence for a few minutes while Jasper contemplates what I’ve just said. “First of all, I don’t know what TV shows or books you’re into, but from what you’ve just said, taking life advice from them doesn’t seem like a great idea. Secondly, I know it doesn’t feel this way now, but you will move on. You’ll find happiness with someone else. And, even if you’re right, and it isn’t exactly the same, it can still be great.
“I felt the same way about an old flame once,” he continues. “We fell out of love, but I still thought that that was it for me. That I wouldn’t find true love again. Until I met Psyche.
“A part of me does believe in soulmates. I think Siobhan is mine. We’re meant to be together. Even her death in her first life couldn’t keep us apart. But I hope that, if something were to happen to me, Siobhan could find happiness again.”
“So, if something happens to you, you really hope she gets it on with some other guy?” I ask him, trying to inject some humor into the conversation.
Jasper smirks. “After an appropriate period of mourning of twenty years or so.” He thinks about it a moment. “And definitely not with that Jimmy guy.”
I can’t help but laugh. “Honestly, I’m a little surprised by everything you’ve just said. I wasn’t expecting it. I think you just gave me some pretty good advice. Thanks.”
“No problem. I guess I’ve been thinking about it a lot myself, lately. When you’re an Olympian, forever is a lot to ask of someone. We live for a long time. As a halfling, you will, too. It has its perks, but it can get pretty lonely, if you let it. Especially if you isolate yourself from the people who might actually care about you.” Embarrassed, he shifts his gaze to the table, running a finger along one of the grooves in its surface.
“What about Dionysus?” he asks abruptly, looking up at me again.
I frown. “What about him?”
“At Playland, it seemed like you guys had really hit it off.”
“Oh, no,” I insist, cringing. “I mean, not like that. We’re just friends. And even if I did like him like that, he just found out that the dead girlfriend he’s been pining over for God only knows how long is actually very much alive. A girl can’t compete with that.”
“How could you not like him like that?” he says exasperatedly. “He’s an attractive guy. Nice. Funny.”
“Then maybe you should go out with him.”
“I haven’t forgotten about Siobhan that quickly. Also, I don’t swing that way.”
“It doesn’t have to be anything serious,” I tease him. “You could just make out a little. I could watch. And I don’t think Siobhan would mind. Actually, she’ll probably want to watch, too.” We start to laugh, both of us seeming to remember our current predicament at the same time. I watch Jasper’s face fall just as the laughter dies in my throat. After all, she’s the reason why I asked him to meet me today, but we’ve managed to get completely off-topic.
“I asked you to meet me here to tell you Hera put it to a vote,” I explain. “The Elder Council has put an official ban on between-world travel until the rift situation is addressed. Which we’re working on, but until we close them, we’re not going after Siobhan. And with Hera breathing down our necks, everyone is even more reluctant to break the rules. It’s up to you, Jasper. You need to get her out of there.”
“Does this mean you know where the jar is?” he asks me eagerly, eyes alight with determination.
“Well, Farrah mentioned to us that Hermes has been helping us secure ‘dangerous’ items. I figure that has to include the jar. Does that name mean anything to you?”
Jasper nods. “He’s a messenger for the council. Goes by the name Lou these days. He runs a bar over in Greenview called The End.”
“Oh, right.” I went to a concert there not so long ago with Siobhan and Tanya. “I don’t know exactly where he’s keeping the jar, though.”
“That’s alright,” he assures me. “It’s a start. I mean, I’m a little disappointed you couldn’t find out more, but I appreciate you coming to me with this. It at least gives me something to work with.” To my surprise, he places a hand on my forearm and gives it a squeeze. “Thank you, Carly.”
A sudden wave of guilt hits me. “Jasper, I—I want to help you, but, with the situation at the house, I don’t think I can risk breaking any rules—”
“And you won’t have to,” he assures me, withdrawing his hand. “You’ve taken enough of a risk just giving me this information. Leave the rule breaking to me. I’m already in deep shit with the council, anyway. What’s a little more?” There’s a glint of mischief in his eyes.
I smile, starting to feel more hopeful that we might actually get Siobhan back. “Bring her back to us,” I tell him, surprised at the sound of fierceness in my own voice.
“I will,” Jasper says solemnly. “That’s a promise.”
“I know you will.” Realizing that I can trust him, at least with this, widens my smile.
“I have to go,” I add, glancing at the clock on the wall. “Class. Do you want this?” I push the uneaten croissant toward him. “I’ve kind of lost my appetite.”
“Sure,” he says, dragging the plate closer to himself.
I get up and put my jacket on, shouldering my backpack. “Well, I’ll see you around,” I say with a little wave. Jasper nods, smiling around a mouthful of pastry. I turn to go, then pause, looking back at him. “And Jasper—I know you think you don’t have any friends, but…you do.” He stops mid-chew, looking taken aback. I leave before he can say anything in response. I already feel awkward enough having said it in the first place.
Outside, the air is cold, but a brilliant, mid-morning sun warms my face, lifting my spirits. I sit down with my tea on one of the benches outside of the library.
Jasper’s right. I did risk a lot giving him the lead about the jar. It might not be the same as actually finding it and opening a portal myself, but it’s enough to get me in trouble. Exactly how much trouble…I don’t want to find out. And I can’t lie to Victoria or Farrah if either of them asks me about it. I mean, I could try, but the Olympians can read our minds if they want to. Many of them usually choose not to because, well, it’s the ultimate invasion of privacy, but Victoria and Farrah might if they suspected something. They would figure out I was lying, and then I’d probably be in even more trouble.
But I don’t have to lie about anything if I don’t remember telling Jasper in the first place.
I take a sip of tea. It’s still warm but, without any honey or sugar to sweeten it, rather bitter. Still, I force it down.
Last night, I once again consulted the book of presse
d flowers to see if I could figure out what exactly my grandmother had given me to make me forget about the rift and the children I had found on the other side of it. It definitely couldn’t have been chamomile, like I’d assumed at the time.
On one of the pages, I found some dried daylily petals, and a caption scrawled underneath it that read, “Forgetfulness.”
Then early this morning, I returned to Little Lane and managed to find The Midnight Shoppe for a second time. Like Dolos had sworn, the occult store was real, as was its halfling owner, Billy. The real Billy was a lot friendlier and less secretive than the fake one. Not only did he sell me the tea I needed, made from the buds of an Olympian species of daylily, but he also gave me my wings back.
(My car, as it turned out, had not been towed. That had been a trick. It was still parked where I had left it, although it did have a hefty parking ticket slapped on the windshield.)
At the library, I’d ordered a hot water and steeped my own tea bag. I’m not going to drink all of it. Just a sip or two, so that I can forget this entire conversation with Jasper ever happened. So, if Victoria or someone asks me if I told him anything about where the jar could be or who had it, I can tell them “no,” and mean it.
Tilting my head back, I take another sip. I swallow.
***
“Carly!”
I look up to see Jasper running toward me, a frantic expression on his chiseled features.
“Jasper,” I say, not bothering to conceal the surprise from my voice. I’m even more surprised when he sits down next to me on the bench.
“I know I said I could do it,” he starts rambling, hands flying every which way as he talks. “I know that you could get in trouble if you help me and that I have no right to ask this of you, but Carly, I…I need your help.” Tears brim in his dark blue eyes. “I can’t do this by myself. Even if I do manage to find the jar, it’s really hard to open a portal by yourself. It takes years to master it, and you usually need other people in order to stabilize the energy. I’ve never had to do it alone before. Carly, please. Please, please help me.” He holds my gaze steady, eyes pleading with me.
“Help you,” I say slowly, shaking my head. “Help you with what?”
He jerks back, brow furrowed. “I think you know.”
“No, I really don’t.” I cross my arms. “Look, Jasper, you can’t just barge up to me and demand my help without giving me an explanation.” I sigh, grabbing my backpack and standing up. “I don’t have time for this. I have to get to class.” I hesitate, knowing that it’s true, but struggling to remember exactly which class I was going to. I can’t even remember why I’m sitting out here in the first place. What did I need at the library?
“What game are you playing?” Jasper gets to his feet, seething. “We just talked about this literally five seconds ago, and now you’re acting like you don’t even…” Looking at something in my hand, he loses his train of thought. He grabs the paper cup out of my hand.
“Hey! That’s mine,” I cry out, reaching for it.
“What did you drink, Carly?” Jasper demands, peering inside of it. The cup is almost empty, except for a few loose tea leaves floating in a thin layer of yellowish liquid. He brings it to his nose, sniffing. “What the hell did you take?”
“I…nothing,” I falter, drawing a complete blank as I stare at the cup. “Just tea…or something.”
Realization dawns on Jasper’s face. I wish he’d share his epiphany with me, because I certainly have no idea what’s happening or what he’s so upset about.
“Never mind,” he says abruptly, giving it back to me. “Forget what I said. I was mistaken.” He turns, stalking off in the direction of the humanities building. I watch him go for a while, still racking my brain, wondering why it feels like someone’s spilled a vial of whiteout all over my memories.
I look up my class schedule on my phone. That’s right, I have Concepts of Math now. I totally knew that.
In class, we get back a test I don’t even remember taking, or studying for—which is probably why there’s a fat, red D+ written on it. Fudge. I’ve never gotten anything below a C in any of my math classes before. I zone in and out for the rest of the class, unable to shake this feeling of dread that’s taken over me. Fear sits in my gut like a lead weight. When class is over, I’m the first one out the door. I know for certain that I have a break now, so I go back to the sorority house to recharge.
As I cut across the Greek Quad, I see a black Audi idling in front of the Sigma Iota house. Someone hefts an army green duffle bag into the back seat, crawling in after it and slamming the door shut. His back was to me, but from his height and head of dark hair, I could have sworn it was Alec. Don’t his parents drive an Audi?
I watch the car pull away, driving off toward the main road, and again have that nagging feeling that something’s not quite right. Something to do with Alec. The last time I saw him was…at the Sigma Iota party. I think. But wasn’t that a few weeks ago? Or was it a few days ago? I wrap my arms around myself, shivering. In my mind, I try to part the impenetrable veil that seems to be draped over it, but no matter how hard I concentrate, I can’t lift it.
I hope Victoria’s home, I think to myself as I walk up to the sorority house. She’ll know what to do. I reach out to swipe my card key in the lock, pausing when something crunches underneath my shoe.
“Woops,” I mutter, lifting my foot. There’s a dewy rose lying on the doormat. Bending, I pick it up, twirling the stem between my fingers. It’s slightly bent where I stepped on it, but otherwise unharmed, and the petals are an unusual color: black with traces of dark red. Someone has tied a silky, black ribbon around the stem in a bow. I bring it to my nose, inhaling its sweet perfume. I’ve never seen a rose this color before, but it’s strangely beautiful. I wonder who left it, and who it’s for.
It’s for me, I realize, my heart giving an excited leap in my chest. The thought is fleeting, as is the bubble of elation it produced, bursting a second later. It’s not for me. I don’t know why I’d think something like that. For what feels like the hundredth time in an hour, I know that I’m forgetting something. I could stand out here all day, staring and sniffing at this rose, though, and it wouldn’t make a difference. I’m missing something, something important, but for the life of me I can’t remember what it is.
I jump as the front door opens, the rose falling from my fingers. Tanya peeks her head out, giving me a weird look.
“I saw you just standing out here,” she says, opening the door wider and stepping aside, although I don’t make any move to go in. “What are you doing?” She studies my face, then adds, “What’s wrong?”
“I…nothing.” I shake my head, clearing my foggy brain. “I just came here to hang out before my next class.”
“Okay.” She sighs impatiently. “Are you coming in then, or not?” She shivers in her pajama pants and tank top. “It’s cold standing here.”
“Yeah. Of course.” Rousing myself, I come inside. Tanya slams the door behind me.
Epilogue
I press in the button for Unit 15A, leaning into the intercom. “Hi. It’s me. Can you buzz me in?”
There’s a lengthy pause, followed by some static. Then, the front door to the Penrose Luxury Apartments complex unlocks with a click. Releasing the button, I open the door and go inside.
The lobby is empty, as is the elevator I ride up to the fifteenth floor. Eric is waiting for me when I get off, filling up the doorway to his penthouse suite.
“The prodigal son returns,” he says with a smirk, moving aside to let me in.
My eyebrows go up as I take in the state of the main room. Upended furniture. Broken lamps. The hardwood floor is covered with tiny pieces of things that have been crushed, smashed, slashed, bashed. I look at him questioningly. “Mad about something?”
“Don’t play dumb, Eros.” Eric walks over to an overturned, black leather armchair, setting it upright. He gestures for me to sit down, then goes to flip the couch bac
k over. “I’m sure you’ve heard by now.”
“I have,” I admit, throwing myself into the chair. “But I wanted to hear it from you.”
He sprawls on the couch, glowering at me. “We lost. Is that what you came over to hear me say? Come to rub it in that your new friends managed to defeat my army, making them look like a bunch of amateurs, and me, like a fool?”
“They’re not my friends,” I insist, reclining the chair back and kicking up my feet. “Your soldiers, however, are amateurs, and even you have to admit sending them on that mission was rather foolish and premature.”
Eric crosses his ankle over the opposite knee, clasping his hands in his lap. “I don’t need advice from someone who’d rather play matchmaker and lover boy than soldier. I offered you everything—power, prestige—and you’re giving it all up for some blonde.”
“All you gave me was empty promises and lies. Dad.”
“Hmph,” he grunts, stroking his dark beard. “Well, you’ll regret turning your back on us. Now that Siobhan’s out of the picture—”
I slam the recliner down, jumping to my feet. “Siobhan is not out of the picture—”
“You’ll realize,” he continues loudly, talking over me, “that Victoria and the others aren’t on your side—and never will be. You’ll be friendless, and alone. And then you’ll come crawling back to us.”
Composing myself, I sit back down, adjusting my shirt collar. “I’m not afraid of being alone. I’m used to it.”
“Oh, take your tortured routine back to the Greek Quad,” Eric says with disgust. “That might work on those vapid sorority girls, but it’s not going to garner any sympathy from me.”
I bite down on my tongue, trying to stifle a laugh. “You mean those vapid sorority girls who creamed your army?”
Eric pretends he doesn’t hear me. Getting to his feet, he starts pacing the floor, black dress shoes crunching over the debris from his rampage.
“We’ll treat it not so much as a loss but as a…dry run.” He seems to be talking more to himself than he is to me. I pick up a pencil off of the floor, fiddling with it in my hand while he talks. “Sure, it would have been better if we’d won—if Olympus was already mine—but now we know who and what we’re up against. I didn’t realize Nike’s guardians would make such formidable opponents. My mistake, but it will not be repeated. We will not underestimate them next time. And I didn’t gamble on the girl.”