Pheme the Gossip

by Joan Holub

  “Gossip?” A vein jumped in Phaeton’s throat as he studied her. He looked really upset!

  A mean squinty-eyed godboy named Makhai hooted with laughter. “Telling Pheme anything is like asking the MOA herald to blast out the word to the far corners of the universe.”

  “Yeah, everyone knows that,” Apollo added.

  Everyone except Phaeton. Until now.

  “You tricked me,” he accused her, his face flushing an angry red. He was steaming more than her soup was!

  Pheme drew back in surprise. “No, I didn’t. I fulfilled my part of our deal.” She did feel kind of bad about upsetting him, though. Sometimes spreading certain kinds of gossip was like eating too many Oracle-O cookies. Though tasty and enjoyable at the time, afterward you felt a little sick.

  Phaeton glared at her. Then he turned to the table of godboys. “I’m not lying. Helios is my dad.”

  “Uh-huh, sure he is, sunny boy,” said Makhai’s equally mean friend, Kydoimos. “Then why doesn’t your skin glitter?”

  “Yeah, or why don’t your eyeballs blast out rays of sunlight?” asked Makhai. The two boys cracked up laughing.

  “Don’t believe me?” With a defiant toss of his golden hair, Phaeton announced to the whole cafeteria, “Well, I’ll prove it. You’ll see!” Then, he stalked off toward the exit.

  “Wait!” Pheme chased after him, still holding her tray. She’d only taken a couple of steps when he whirled around to face her. She stopped so suddenly that her soup sloshed over her fingers. Luckily, it wasn’t hot enough to burn.

  “Don’t you and your big mouth dare follow me,” Phaeton told her. “You ruined everything.” He turned his back on her, then stomped the rest of the way across the cafeteria and out the door.

  Yikes! He was really mad! Pheme set down her tray on the nearest table, then grabbed a napkin to wipe the soup from her fingers. Having witnessed all the shouting, lots of students were now staring at her. Including Athena and her goddessgirl friends, whose table was only a few feet away.

  Pheme shot Athena a nervous glance, then managed a weak smile. But Athena didn’t notice. Her eyes were focused on Pheme’s hand.

  Pheme looked to see why. Oh, no! Some of the concealer had come off! A big smear of red was now exposed on her hand. It was that stupid soup. It was water based. Aghhh!

  Totally panicking, Pheme crossed her arms and rammed her hands under her armpits to hide them. Athena’s blue-gray eyes narrowed with suspicion. The two girls stared at each other for a long moment. Then, leaning toward her friends, Athena whispered something to them.

  Pheme backed away. Turning to her tray, she pretended to fumble with her silverware. But really she was getting the concealer from her pocket. Keeping her back to Athena’s table to hide what she was doing, she quickly covered up the smear of red on her hand.

  When she finally turned around again, all four goddessgirls were glaring at her. The suspicion in their eyes was plain to see. Athena had guessed what she’d done, and had told her friends. Pheme was sure of it. Even Artemis’s three dogs had raised their heads to eye her accusingly.

  “I . . . I better go get some more soup. Mine’s gone cold,” she stammered, giving them a fake smile.

  Suddenly Heracles got up from one of the boys’ tables and came over to Athena’s table. From the look on his face he must’ve known something was up. But he didn’t ask what. Instead he just said to Athena, “I’ll go check on Phaeton and make sure he’s okay.” Athena gave him a quick smile of thanks.

  “Wait up, bud,” Eros chimed in. He slung his quiver of arrows over one shoulder and casually followed Athena’s crush out the cafeteria door. As he exited, he shot Pheme a look.

  Before she could interpret it, Athena spoke up. “Pheme?”

  “Huh?” said Pheme. Athena’s eyes were glued to her again and she was waving her over. Feeling as caught as a fish with a hook in its mouth, Pheme reluctantly stepped closer to the girls’ table. Her gaze flicked from Athena to Aphrodite to Artemis to Persephone. Their expressions were all condemning.

  Aphrodite spoke first. “Love your nails,” she said in a voice that was a little too sweet to be genuine. “Such an unusual bright red. What’s the color? Its name, I mean.”

  Pheme balled her hands into fists, self-consciously hiding her nails. “I . . . um . . . can’t remember.”

  “Can I borrow some of it?”

  “Uh, sure,” said Pheme, relaxing. “Anytime.” Tonight, she’d make a quick trip to the Immortal Marketplace and get some made to match. Problem solved.

  “Awesome,” said Aphrodite. She rose from their table. “How about now?”

  “Now?” squeaked Pheme. “Oh. Well, I don’t have it with me.”

  “Is it in your room?” Athena asked, rising too. “We were just going up ourselves. We’ll go with you to get it.”

  “What’s the rush?” asked Pheme. “I haven’t eaten yet.” Not that she really felt like eating. Her stomach was churning with worry. “Besides, I think the polish was empty after I used it this morning. I probably threw it away.”

  “We can check your trash can and get the name off the bottle,” Persephone suggested.

  “Yeah, so go ahead and eat. We’ll wait,” said Aphrodite.

  “Oh, okay,” said Pheme. They were obviously on to her.

  What if they ratted her out to Principal Zeus? Of course, he’d never told her she couldn’t snoop in the girls’ dorms. And he hadn’t specifically banned her from reading diaryscrolls. Still, she had a strong feeling he might not approve. Especially of her spying on Athena. After all, he often called her his favorite daughter of all time.

  Athena and her friends left her alone while she ate the new soup she got from the lunch lady. But she was so nervous, she only managed to eat half of it. In fact, it was a wonder she could even get the soup to her mouth, since her hand trembled each time she lifted the spoon from the bowl.

  “I’m ready,” she said at last.

  “Much as I’d like to go with you all, I’ve got to meet Apollo at the archery range for practice,” Artemis said. “We’re leaving after lunch tomorrow for a competition down on Earth.” She gave her friends a look. “I’ll catch up with you later so you can fill me in, though.” After she left with her dogs, the other three girls and Pheme left the cafeteria too.

  As they started up the marble staircase to the fourth floor, Pheme tried to think what to do. She hardly ever wore nail polish. She knew that there were some bottles in a box on the shelf above her desk, but were any of them red? Probably not. She wouldn’t be that lucky!

  When they reached her room at the end of the hall, Pheme opened her door and reluctantly let Athena, Aphrodite, and Persephone inside.

  “How cute!” Aphrodite exclaimed, glancing around with interest. “Nice bedspread. And I love the framed pictures.”

  Pheme smiled, relaxing a little. “I have more in my clos—” She broke off, realizing what a risky thing she’d almost said. What if the girls asked to see her other pictures? They were in her spare closet. Right next to the “snoop” files she kept on everyone at MOA. Not that she saw anything wrong with snooping. But they might.

  “Whoa,” said Aphrodite. She pointed to an orange-framed picture of a blond boy with dazzling white teeth and pale blue eyes. One of many celebrity pictures on her walls. “Ye gods! What’s Orion’s picture doing here?”

  “Well, he is a celebrity,” Pheme said defensively. “Even if he did almost ruin the school play and break Artemis’s heart.”

  “Let’s just be glad she isn’t here to see it,” said Persephone.

  “Why?” Instantly on the alert for a new rumor to spread, Pheme licked her orange-glossed lips. “Are you saying that even though Artemis is crushing on Actaeon now, she’s still not over Orion?”

  “No!” the other three girls said at the same time.

  Pheme looked at them, confused. “As in no, she’s still not over him?”

  “No, as in no, we’re not saying she’s not
over him,” said Athena.

  “We mean she is over Orion,” said Aphrodite.

  “But that doesn’t mean she’d want to be reminded of him,” Persephone added.

  “So a reminder would be just too painful for her?” Pheme pressed.

  “Just drop it, okay?” Aphrodite said with an exasperated sigh. She looked around. “Now, where’s that nail polish you were going to lend me?”

  “Um, I think I threw it away,” Pheme hedged.

  “Not in here,” Persephone noted, checking the trash can under her desk.

  “Oh. Well, then, I-I’m not sure where I put it,” Pheme said, stalling for time.

  “We’ll help you look,” offered Athena. She headed for the shelves by Pheme’s desk. Aphrodite and Persephone started for the spare closet.

  Pheme raced past the girls and threw herself against the closet. Her back was plastered against the doors, her arms dramatically outstretched.

  Athena, Persephone, and Aphrodite stopped in their tracks, their eyes widening.

  “Try that striped box on the shelf above my desk,” Pheme told them. The words rushed out of her before she could even think to lie.

  A feeling of doom washed over her as Athena lifted the box down to Persephone, who handed it to Pheme. Reluctantly she set the box on top of her desk and opened it. As she’d expected, there were only a half dozen bottles of nail polish inside. All orange. There was every shade of orange lip gloss imaginable too.

  The other three girls were looking over her shoulder. “Hmm,” said Aphrodite. “Fancy that. No red polish.”

  “Someone must’ve borrowed it,” Pheme said lamely. “Maybe Medusa.”

  “Really?” said Persephone. “I’ve only ever seen Medusa wear green polish.”

  “Still, we can go ask her,” Athena said, calling Pheme’s bluff. “Want to?”

  Pheme shook her head. She closed the box and set it back on the shelf.

  “Thought not.” Aphrodite dropped into the desk chair. Persephone sat on the bed, leaving Athena and Pheme to face off.

  “You know, I just remembered something,” Athena mused. “I think I saw some polish in the Immortal Marketplace that matches your nails. Hmm. What was the name of it? Oh, right!” She snapped her fingers, her eyes narrowing on Pheme. “It was called Caught Red-Handed.”

  Pheme stumbled back from the glares the girls sent her. Feeling cornered, she lashed out at Athena. “You’re just being mean because you don’t like me,” she blurted. “You practically said so in your dia—duh, um—” She spluttered to a stop. Pressing her lips together, she wished she could call back her words.

  “I knew it! You snooped in my room,” Athena accused. Her face flamed almost as red as Pheme’s fingernails. “I can’t believe you! My diaryscroll is private!”

  Pheme shifted into damage control mode. No way was she going to admit what she’d done. Let them prove it. She widened her eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Well, let’s see what my dad has to say about this.” Athena headed for the door. Aphrodite and Persephone were right behind her.

  “No!” Pheme said in alarm. If Zeus got mad at her again, she could kiss any possibility of a letter of recommendation from him good-bye. In fact, he might even write a letter to Teen Scrollazine advising against choosing her for the reporter job.

  He’d probably make her quit her office job with Ms. Hydra and take away her floor monitor duties too. Worse yet, what if he sent her home? Then she’d have to go back to being the ignored middle kid again!

  Athena turned the doorknob, eyeing her.

  “Okay, okay. It’s true,” Pheme admitted. “I’m sorry I snooped. But I didn’t see anything interesting. Barely even read ten words,” she said, fudging the truth. “Mostly just stuff about your homework assignments. So no harm done, right?”

  A look of relief flitted across Athena’s face. Rats, Pheme couldn’t help thinking. Had she stopped reading too soon? Were there some juicy bits buried in that diaryscroll that she’d missed?

  “If you didn’t want anyone to read it, why didn’t you put a magical locking ribbon around it?” Pheme asked, trying to shift the blame.

  Aphrodite frowned. “She shouldn’t have to!”

  “Besides, I usually do hide it,” said Athena. “And I did take precautions.” She stared pointedly at Pheme’s red-nailed fingers. “There’s a spell on it, as you well know.”

  A little embarrassed, Pheme put her hands behind her back.

  “What did you use to cover the stain?” Persephone asked curiously.

  “Concealer.” Pheme pulled it out of her pocket to show them. “Only, it comes off with water.” Then she brightened as an idea came to her. “I’ll go wash my hands, okay? And then you can reverse the spell.”

  “Do you really expect to get off that easily?” Aphrodite snapped.

  “Yes?” Pheme lied hopefully.

  “Think about it,” Athena said, folding her arms. “You wouldn’t like it if someone came into your room while you were gone and read your private stuff, would you?”

  Pheme’s eyes automatically darted to her spare closet’s closed doors, then darted away. “Well, when you put it like that, it sounds bad, but—” She shrugged. “I’m the goddess of gossip, remember? Asking me to stop snooping for gossip is like asking you to stop being brainy. Or Aphrodite to stop being beautiful. Or Persephone to stop growing flowers.”

  Aphrodite sniffed. “That’s a cop-out. Beauty and brains don’t hurt people. Gossip does.”

  “Not true!” argued Pheme. “Not always. Sometimes gossip is helpful. What about that time during Hero Week? Remember how I helped spread the word that you were competing with Isis—that goddessgirl from Egypt—to find a girlfriend for that annoying Pyg guy? Without me and my gossip, you might never have found potential girlfriends for him.”

  “Well, I guess I see your point.” Aphrodite looked momentarily taken aback by her well-reasoned logic. “But more often than not your gossip causes trouble instead of helping.”

  Athena nodded. “Remember Freya’s necklace?”

  As if she could forget! “Okay, so I made a teeny little mistake,” said Pheme. “You’ve made them too. What about those inventions you rained down on mortals when you first got to MOA? And, Persephone, didn’t you misjudge your friends when you first met Hades?” She looked back at Aphrodite. “And as for you—Hello? Trojan War?”

  All three girls looked surprised now. They probably hadn’t realized what a good memory she had for stuff like that. Ha! Got you there! thought Pheme. “Now, will you help me with these hands or not?”

  “I’m not sure,” Athena said evenly. She exchanged looks with Aphrodite and Persephone. Then the three of them put their heads together and began to whisper.

  While they were deciding her fate—at least, that’s what Pheme assumed they were doing—she sweated it out. With her supergood hearing, she caught a word every now and then. “Spell . . . challenge . . . Zeus . . .”

  Zeus? Ye gods!

  “You aren’t really going to tell your dad about all this, are you?” Pheme interrupted.

  They looked over at her. “You’re asking us to keep a secret?” Persephone chided gently. “Would you? Think about it.”

  Pheme opened her mouth to protest that she could too keep a secret, but then she closed it again. Her shoulders slumped. “You’re right. I’d probably tell,” she admitted.

  At this, something in Athena’s stance softened. “I won’t tell him,” she said at last.

  Pheme’s eyes lit up with relief. “Thanks.” She held out her hands and wiggled her fingers, hinting. “And the red?”

  “I’ll undo it,” Athena told her.

  “Awesome!” Pheme smiled, hardly believing she was being let off the hook.

  “Under two conditions,” added Athena.

  “Not awesome,” said Pheme. She flounced over to sit on her bed. “What are they?”

  The other three girls sat on the spare bed
across from her. Athena looked at her sternly. “First you have to promise never to snoop in anyone’s room ever again.”

  Since Pheme had been rethinking the wisdom of this information-gathering technique anyway, she nodded easily. She’d just have to fall back on other tried-and-true methods. Like eavesdropping on conversations, listening through walls and doors, and peeking through keyholes.

  “A nod isn’t a promise,” said Aphrodite. “Ask her to pledge an oath.”

  “Where’s your Goddessgirl Guide?” asked Persephone, looking around.

  Pheme got up and opened a drawer in her desk. Then she pulled out a pale pink scroll tied with a sparkly silver ribbon. The Goddessgirl Guide was more than just a scroll that explained MOA’s rules and history. It was practically sacred. No one would dare break a promise made while holding it.

  Grasping the scroll in both hands, she said, “I solemnly swear never again to snoop in anyone’s room when they aren’t there.”

  Athena sighed at the last few words of Pheme’s pledge. But she let them pass, seeming to understand that a little leeway was necessary for the goddess of gossip.

  Pheme dropped the scroll onto her desk and held her hands outstretched again, hinting.

  Frowning, Aphrodite folded her arms. “Two conditions, remember?”

  “Right.” Athena stood up. “So here’s the hard part, Pheme. If we agree not to tell my dad, then you have to agree to accept a challenge.”

  Pheme held her breath, wondering what this could mean. “What challenge?”

  “I hereby challenge you to go one entire day without gossiping,” Athena announced.

  “Are you joking?” Pheme was so flabbergasted, she almost fell over. “What if you had to be dumb for a day?” she asked Athena.

  “Been there,” said Athena.

  “Oh, yeah,” said Pheme, suddenly remembering. Dumb was exactly what Athena had become for almost a week not long ago, after being bumped by a bubble from a mysterious, magical box Pandora had opened.

  A silence fell in the room as Pheme considered her options. She didn’t really have any. “Okay, I’ll try,” she agreed reluctantly.

  “It won’t be as hard as you think,” Athena encouraged. “I have a magic spell that will help you.”