by Clea Hantman
We went to a café and a grocery store and interviewed more teenagers.
“What is the most important political cause to you right now?”
“What school subject do you think is useless?”
“What do you wish they taught in high school?”
“Who is your best friend and why?”
Then we went to the university campus, where there was a spectacularly beautiful statue of my cousin Athena. Both Athens (Greece and Georgia) are named after her. I was stunned. I had lived here now for over a month, and I had not known this was here.
“Why did you bring me here?” I asked Dylan, who had led the way.
“I thought you would like it. You do, don’t you?” he said.
“Yeah, this is a gorgeous statue. Wow, thank you.”
He grabbed my hand and walked me closer. His hand felt so strong and yet soft. Almost tingly. “Here, stand there in front of it,” he said. “I’m going to ask you a question now.”
“Sure, I guess,” I said, staring up at Athena’s beautiful face.
Athena is spectacular, strong, and smart. She sends the best postcards, from exotic locations around the universe. Standing in front of her statue, I wondered if she had ever been here. I almost felt her presence, although I knew that was ridiculous. She was only, like, thousands of years and a whole host of miles away.
“Why is Athena your hero?”
“What, my hero?” How did he know?
He turned the camera on me and repeated himself, “Thalia, why is Athena your hero?”
“Because she is the strongest woman ever to walk this earth. She is good and kind and doesn’t take anything from anyone. She is her own woman.”
I started to feel sad. I missed home.
“I think we’ve got enough,” I said. Fact is, being there next to the statue made me think of Apollo, and I actually felt guilty for having such a great time with Dylan. I felt this rush of pain in my heart at the thought that Apollo might never speak to me again. And here I was, on earth, with a mortal boy, having fun. I was horrible. I had to get my mind back to work; I had to concentrate on saving my grade and getting back home. “Stop the tape. Let’s get back to Claire’s and edit this thing—we don’t have all night.”
“Right, okay then.”
We walked back to Claire’s. I was once again quiet. I didn’t want to feel anything for this guy. I mean, here we were, walking down the street, and he’s decked out head to toe in football gear. Again. He obviously had some weird obsession with this uniform, yet nobody had ever said much of anything about it to him. I figured it was because he was so charming.
“Hey, guys,” said Claire when we got to her door. “Come on up. My room is upstairs—that’s where my computer is. I’ll get you some drinks and make some snacks. You can just get to work if you like—the computer is on.” And she went off to the kitchen. As we walked up the stairs, I whispered to Dylan, “Do you know how to work a computer?” and he said, “Not really. I guess you don’t, either?”
This was going to be a long night.
We sat in Claire’s room in silence, waiting for her to come back. When she arrived, she had a tray of lemonade and fluffy marshmallow treats.
“Neither one of you knows how to work this thing, do you?” she asked.
“Was it that obvious?” I asked.
“Sheesh, I had no idea that Athens, Georgia, had such a computer tech leg up on the rest of the world. All right, I’m going to give you the crash course because I have my own tedious high school work to do this evening. So c’mon, grab a Krispie Treat and pull up a chair.”
After giving us our little lesson, Claire climbed onto her bed with her calculus books. Dylan and I didn’t speak much at first, other than to argue over who had control of the mouse. But once we started seeing the fruits of our camera work, we perked up a bit. There was Dylan, wearing a huge curly black wig in the Pile, and me near the statue of Athena. The old men at the park, the teenagers at the café and the grocery store. It was miraculous how it was all just there, better even than TV because it was us. Well, not “us.” But it was Dylan and me, even if we weren’t together.
Before we knew it, it was ten at night and Claire was fast asleep. Her mom had come in and checked on us earlier, but all parental interruption stopped around eight. We had so lost track of the time. But the thing was, I wasn’t tired. We figured out how to add a layer of sound, and so we took one of Claire’s CDs, popped it in the computer, and added a little music to the movie. We repeated the old man telling us today was his most favorite day over and over at the end. It wasn’t as flashy or wild as our first film. But it was really great, like something I would see on TV. We were geniuses.
But finally, in the end, tired geniuses. We weren’t finished till one in the morning. And when I noticed the time, I panicked. “Isn’t your mom or dad going to be mad or worried about you?” I asked.
“No, they’re cool—they know I’m out with you,” he said.
“With me. Um, we’re not ‘out,’ we’re working.”
“Whatever,” he said with a little grin.
“I mean, so what, that makes it okay for you to be out because you’re with me?”
“Yep.”
“But they don’t even know me,” I said.
“But they feel like they do. What about your host parents?”
“Oh, I told them I was sleeping here, at Claire’s.” Which was a lie. And now Claire was conked out, her parents long ago asleep.
“Did you? Okay. Well, I suppose I should leave you to get some sleep, then.”
“Yeah, probably.”
Dylan said, “We made an awesome movie, you and I.”
“Yeah, it was probably fate that you busted the camera, huh?”
“Fate. Yes, I would definitely say it was fate.” He was just staring at me, his eyes all bright even though it was some ungodly hour of the night.
“I just mean, we made a better movie in the end, probably. I mean, it’s all about the grade, right?”
“Absolutely,” he whispered, smiling at me and shaking his head slightly.
He was getting closer to me, still staring at me, smiling at me. I felt my stomach drop. He brushed a wisp of hair out of my eyes and tucked it behind my ear. Softly he said, “The grade, it was all about the grade,” and then he was only inches, centimeters from my face. I panicked.
“I think you should go, I mean your parents, they must be, so, um,” I stammered, and stood up, backed away.
He was still smiling.
“Yeah, okay,” he said.
I couldn’t look at him. I walked over to the other side of the room and tossed him his jacket without even watching where it landed.
“Okay, then,” he said, “I’m leaving. Hey, Thalia, ask me what was the best day of my life.”
I didn’t say anything.
“C’mon, just ask me,” he said in a teasing voice, his smile as big as ever.
“What was the best day of your life,” I asked, without even looking at him.
“Why, today, of course!” And he laughed a little laugh.
I didn’t say anything.
He turned around and walked to the door.
But just before he made it through, I said, “Do you want to have dinner at my house tomorrow night? I make a mean mushroom tuna casserole surprise.”
SIXTEEN
“So tell us again, why did you stay over at Claire’s house?” asked Polly. She was being very motherly, and I didn’t appreciate it at the moment. I did appreciate the fact that she’d let us go out to the Donut Hole for breakfast before school, though.
“I had homework that has to be turned in today. I mean, well, you know how Dylan ruined our film and our camera yesterday, so we had to shoot a new film, so Claire lent us her video camera, well, her parents’, actually, and we shot this movie and then we had to edit it on a computer. Man, those things are cool—you’ve got to check this thing out and…”
“Oh, we’ve g
ot computers in my English lab,” said Era with a mouth full of creme.
“Do you know how to use them?” I asked in wonder. Could my sister be adapting quicker to modern earth life than me? Not possible.
“Yeah, I thought you all had them in your classes.”
“How did I get so left out?” Polly whined. “What does it do?”
“Well, Claire’s makes movies. And that’s what we did, we made a movie. Hey, did you know there’s a statue of Athena at the university?”
“Ommpfh, yeah, I saw a picture of it in my art class,” said Era through a glob of chocolate pudding.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” I asked.
“I dunno, I didn’t think of it.”
“Hello, big concrete statue of our cousin in this random town thousands of years away and you don’t think to mention it?” I asked.
“Well, um, not really, yum.” She was licking her fingers.
“So was Dylan there with you at Claire’s?” Polly asked. Her eyebrows were raised in a sort of sideways question mark.
“Well, not all night, if that’s what you mean.” I felt the heat rising to my cheeks. I tried to stop it. I willed it to stay deep-seated and far away from my face.
It was no use.
“Woo wike him, huh?” said Era, chomping.
“Don’t be ridiculous. We’re just friends.” And then this part I sorta mumbled. “But he is coming over for dinner tonight.”
“What?” Polly said. “You surely don’t like him, then, because you could kill him with your so-called cooking. And the parents thing, what are you going to tell him?” Era just sat way back in her chair and grinned. I shrugged. I’d think of something.
“Well, you know, we won’t be around for dinner this evening,” said Polly.
“Why not?”
“Don’t ask, please, I don’t want to talk about it,” said Era.
“Of course you don’t want to talk about it—it only reminds you of your foolish behavior,” Polly said, and then she turned to me. “Our obstacle race is tonight. At six.” And then I heard an audible groan. From both my sisters.
“What? First on a Sunday and now after school? Doesn’t he know you have lives?”
They both just stared at me with that “duh” look.
“Mr. Hawkins is a sadistic, evil beastling from the nether reaches of Hades, I’m sure of it,” complained Polly.
“He is not! Don’t talk about him like that! Josh is just very serious. He thinks school should extend to all hours of the week, that’s all,” cried Era.
“Don’t start with me, Era. You want to have a crush on him, fine. You want to act like a fool, prancing through mud and carrying a backpack full of makeup, fine. But don’t you dare tell me that man is ‘cute’ or ‘warm’ or ‘fuzzy.’ He isn’t any of those things. And the day I have to hold my tongue on the matter is the day I am forced to hold my tongue forever!”
“Well, that is just fine by me. I don’t think I want to talk to you anymore, anyway.”
I tried reasoning with them. “Girls, c’mon, stop this, you’re both being unreasonable.”
“I’m not the unreasonable one,” said Polly. “Your sister over there is.”
“Please, Thalia, tell your sister, she is being the fool,” said Era.
“I’m not gonna tell her anything of the sort—she’s sitting right here. This is ridiculous.”
“Don’t talk to me about ridiculous, Thalia,” Polly said, looking around at the customers nearby and lowering her voice to a hiss. “Inviting a boy over for dinner? A—I thought you wanted to stay away from them, B”—and this she whispered—“we don’t have any parents, and C—you can’t cook.”
“I can agree with you there,” said Era.
“Don’t talk to me,” said Polly.
Well, this was fun. The only thing they agreed on was my poor cooking skills.
“I thought my food brought us together,” I said.
“Hardly,” replied Polly.
“I’m outta here. You guys can just walk without me,” said Era, and with that she grabbed her stuff and took off through the exit.
Polly wasn’t far behind. “Me too.” And she got up and left, only in the opposite direction, through the other exit.
That left me. Alone, except for a bunch of doughnut-devouring strangers. Alone and wondering what the heck I was gonna cook for dinner.
No, this can’t be! What a sour twist of fate!
Thalia still thinks Dylan is her soul mate.
Well, shame on us and bully on her.
No more piddly games, it’s time to make sure
That Dylan and Thalia are eternally severed.
Now here is the plan, which should part them forever.
Alek, you’ll play Polly, and Era will be Tizzie.
You’ll take Thalia out, and you’ll keep her very busy
Then I’ll become Thalia, bad shoes and all,
And wait for Apollo, no, Dylan, to call.
I’ll trick dear Apollo into thinking I’m his,
He’ll fly back to Olympus in a wink and a whiz,
Thinking his love won’t be too far behind.
To our deception, they both will be blind,
And poor little Thalia will be so heartbroken
To find Dylan has left, with no good-bye spoken.
Now, we can only do this trick one single time.
It zaps our powers, which is such a crime,
So concentrate, dear girls, this must work like a charm.
It’s our last chance in this book to cause any real harm!
SEVENTEEN
I had decided to just make bean burgers. I didn’t dare try my hand at any more casserole surprises.
I was setting the table when I heard Polly and Era on the front porch, talking in low tones.
“Hey, what happened—why are you two home?” I called out.
“La, la, la, don’t I look beautiful today?” asked Era in a singsong voice.
“What? Of course, always,” I called out. “What happened to your survival class?”
“I survived!” declared Era.
“Oh, the class was canceled—we were so sad,” Polly yelled from the living room.
I came out of the kitchen to see what was up. “What are you talking about? I thought you didn’t even want to go. You were dreading it this morning,” I said.
“No, that’s what she means. We were thrilled, ecstatic,” said Era. “Hey, you want to go get some ice cream, c’mon, please, please, please?”
“What? No, I don’t want to get ice cream. Dylan is coming over for dinner, don’t you remember? And when did you two start talking to each other, anyway? I thought today at the doughnut place, you said that was it, you were through with each other.”
Polly said, “Oh, we made up. No, sisters shouldn’t fight. Thalia, can you look into my eye? I think I might have something in it.”
“I’m kinda busy here. Era, look at Polly’s eye.”
“I can’t. Um, my hands are sticky from all the candy.”
“Fine, let me wash my hands. And I’m supposed to be the selfish one? All right, Pol, come here.”
“Right in this eye, look straight into it, can you see it?”
“I can’t see anything,” I said.
“Look straight into my eye, straight into my eye, you are feeling woozy.”
“I feel woozy,” I said.
“Now, weren’t we on our way to get some soft serve?” said Era.
And Polly echoed, “Why, yes, I think that is something we all do deserve!”
EIGHTEEN
“I can’t take it, I just can’t take it,” I moaned to no one in particular.
I was in the middle of the obstacle course, in the middle of the forest, in the middle of my long, torturous death. Me, Era, goddess of love poetry, a Muse, not to mention a pretty darn good-looking supreme being.
Miraculously I was a few paces ahead of Polly, but I didn’t feel like a winner. My only solace, thi
s hot pink sweatshirt I had borrowed from Thalia, was covered in mud. I could feel it cold against my belly. And my legs, they felt heavier than the weight of three plump leprechauns.* I couldn’t lift them over another one of those stupid ropes.
Polly was probably fine, I thought bitterly. Sure. She was a little slower, but she liked this dirt stuff.
Oh, my legs. They hurt and they were heavy and I didn’t like them anymore.
And my hair, I couldn’t even think of my hair. It was soggy. And heavy, too.
My legs. No more.
And then my legs, they gave out.
I sat there in a puddle of mud. Still wet, so cold and something far worse than tired. It made me more tired to think about how tired I was, and then, well, I couldn’t help it. I started to cry.
I still had to go uphill for a mile and a half. There was no way I could make it. I cried harder. I wanted to do this for Polly and Thalia, I really did. I wanted to do this for my grade, to show Hera. I wanted to do this to get back home. But it was all gone. All my strength, all my energy, all my goddessness.
Except, well…no.
But no one was around.
No one would see.
I could muster up a little…magic.
I tried concentrating hard. It had been a while since I’d used my powers. I pressed my eyes closed tightly. I thought about yellow canaries and winged mice. The wind that had been whipping around pretty steadily suddenly whirled into a cone of tornadolike winds directly over my head.
I closed my eyes even tighter, willing the wind to take me up and over the course, to the other side. I’d just have to figure out how to fix my hair when I got there.
Suddenly my legs felt light as a feather. My bottom lifted off the ground ever so slightly. I felt that oh-so-familiar feeling of flotation. Levitation. Exaltation!
“Nooooooooooo!”
It was Polly.