by Raye Wagner
Hope rolled her eyes and started her combination.
“We didn’t hook up,” she grumbled.
“What?”
“I said we didn’t hook up.” Hope glared at her friend.
Haley’s eyes narrowed. “Are you sure, because I heard—”
“For real? Like I wouldn’t know?” It was so frustrating. Athan hadn’t even called since their almost not kiss. Hope pursed her lips, the epiphany breaking slowly. She wanted Athan to like her. Oh. Gods. That was so not okay.
Hope turned and punched the locker behind her.
“Whoa. You’re totally right. You would know. Sorry.”
Hope leaned back against the wall. “No. I just . . .” This was so much worse than breaking a taboo on friendship. She couldn’t have a relationship with him. Or even if she did, she wouldn’t be able to tell him everything. It was just . . . wrong. She pushed away her feelings because they didn’t matter. There was no relationship. They hadn’t kissed. “Where were you this morning?”
“What? What just happened in your head? Did Krista tell you that she and Athan . . .” Haley waved her arms together and apart, then shook her head. “Okay. She’s psycho. I’m going to have to talk with Tristan. Because I seriously can’t be around that harpy anymore. It was. Disgusting.” She batted her eyes at rubbed up on Hope. “Oh, Athan, you big, strong man, let me sit on your lap and lick your face. I just want to see if you taste as sweet as you look. Oh, yum, yum.”
She licked Hope’s face.
“Oh, gross!” Hope pulled away.
Haley started laughing. “It was sick.”
Tristan walked up to them, staring intently at Haley.
“How come you don’t do that to me?” he asked with a chuckle.
“You like that?” Haley pursed her lips and inched away from him.
“Ah, no,” he said with a snort then he turned to Hope. “Was she telling you about Saturday?”
Hope nodded. Is that what they were talking about? Hope flinched as her memories of Saturday batted around in her head.
Tristan tilted his head toward her and whispered, “You don’t have anything to worry about.”
Before Hope could correct him, or question him, he straightened. “Come on, Haley, let’s go get something to eat.”
Haley left with a wave.
It took Hope a few more minutes to gather her thoughts and her books.
She went through the day in a funk. Athan was a no show, and she couldn’t help but think it had to do with her. And the not-quite kiss. Maybe she’d read him wrong.
She drove to the Red Apple after school and was relieved to see Mr. Stanley behind the meat counter, weighing hamburger for a customer.
“I’ll be with you in just a moment, Hope.” Mr. Stanley greeted her with his usual warmth.
She nodded.
Mr. Stanley finished wrapping the man’s dinner and then turned to her.
“How are you? It’s been a few days.” He acknowledged her absence in a way that made her feel missed, not guilty.
“Yeah.” She deliberated for only a second. “I’ve been hanging out with Mrs. Stephens’s nephew, Athan.”
Mr. Stanley nodded. “Is he nice?”
She found herself telling Mr. Stanley almost everything, starting at the Red Apple the previous Friday up to the dinner last night. She edited out the attack in the Dalles and the almost kiss. He definitely didn’t need to know those details, and she really wasn’t sure what to make of them anyway.
They were interrupted several times by customers, but the tale seemed to hold his interest, and so Hope continued talking. When she finished, she looked up at the butcher, standing still in contemplation.
When it was clear she was finished, he said, “Well, you’ve had a lot going on.”
He didn’t offer advice, nor did he pry.
And the talking had made her feel better and helped clarify her feelings. She liked Athan, but she’d rather be friends than nothing at all. With sincere gratitude, she thanked Mr. Stanley.
“Sure, anytime,” he said. “I’ve got three daughters, and even though two of them aren’t home anymore, I still hear about their days plenty.” He paused momentarily as if considering something. “I found a great riddle online. Do you want to hear it?”
She nodded. “Of course.”
“Okay, here it is. I make you weak at the worst of all times. I keep you safe, I keep you fine. I make your hands sweat and your heart grow cold. I visit the weak but seldom the bold. What am I?”
She thought about the riddle for a few minutes. It seemed vaguely familiar. Then she remembered. It was one her mom told her a couple years ago after an especially bad day at school.
“Fear,” she answered confidently.
“Yep. Boy, that one threw me. How is it that you are so good at riddles?”
Her smile was wistful and brief. “It’s in my blood. My mom and grandmother studied them for years. In fact, one of my grandmother’s passions was riddles.”
“Excuse me.” An older woman tentatively looked from Hope to Mr. Stanley. “Can I get some pork chops?”
“I’ll let you go.” Hope waved as she turned to leave.
“Bye, Hope,” he called after her before turning to the shopper.
She got home and sat at the kitchen table, doing homework for the rest of the afternoon and into the evening. She ate leftovers and finished her work. She was restless after sitting for so long. A short run was just what she needed. The night was brisk, but after the first mile, the cool air felt delicious on her bare arms. She modified her loop, going up and down side streets to increase the distance of the run.
Which was the only reason she ran into him.
He was walking past the community hospital, dressed in jeans and a pale-blue T-shirt. The light shirt was a beacon in the dark night.
As if on cue, he turned.
That can’t be . . . There were worry lines that didn’t seem to fit his face, his shadowed features told of sleeplessness, and instead of his normal teasing smirk, his lips were drawn.
As she drew closer, she could see the lines fade as if shadows.
“Athan?”
“Hope.” He said her name as though it was a life raft. His eyes met hers hungrily. His shuffling turned to a determined stride, and he closed the gap, but he stopped just short of her.
“Are you all right?” Her concern was a presence between them.
“Oh. Yeah.” He sighed, sounding defeated. “There was a lot I needed to sort out, and it all hit me today.”
She nodded. The first couple of months after her mother died had passed in a fog of despair. Maybe it was the same for him. He seemed so well-adjusted she’d almost forgotten he must still be grieving.
“Is it about your mom?” she asked.
“Oh, no. No. My mom . . .” He sighed again. “I haven’t been totally honest. My mom passed away a while ago. I’ve been living with extended family for years. But, when I move . . . It’s easier than trying to explain my family situation.”
As she listened, she found herself nodding. His quick adjustment hadn’t been so quick. “But then, what is wrong?”
She braced herself just in case it was about her.
“Actually,” he continued, “I was thinking about change.”
“About change?” She swallowed.
“Have you ever,” he started and broke off. A deep breath. He met her gaze. “Have you ever felt so comfortable and then your world turned upside down?” He waved his hands at her while he continued, “I knew what my responsibilities were, what was important, and how to accomplish what needed to be done . . .”
“Like, you thought you had all the answers, only to find out you didn’t even know what the questions were?”
“Exactly.” He practically simmered with emotion.
“That first month after my mom died,” she started softly, her voice just above a whisper, “I pretty much sat in my room. I felt bewildered. Then I got angry. When I finally g
rasped that it was just me, I started moving, thinking, doing again.”
She thought of leaving Bellevue, living in foster care, and coming to Goldendale, the changes each had been painful. Even now, if she thought too much, the memories felt like picking off a scab before the cut was healed. Hope took a deep breath, pulling her focus to the now. Because now didn’t hurt nearly so much.
“So what kind of change are you having a hard time with?” She brushed a sweaty strand of hair back from her face.
His gaze clouded, and he rubbed his chin. “It’s. . . What I thought was important doesn’t seem to be so important anymore.”
What did he mean? He wasn’t talking about her, was he?
He glanced at her sweaty figure. “You were out for a run. May I walk with you?”
As they approached her house, they bumped shoulders. Hope laughed as he pretended to stagger from the impact. When he drew close again, his hand grazed hers and caught it.
When they were on the porch, Athan leaned against the wall, his gaze drilled into her.
“What?” She breathed.
Athan brushed loose strands of hair behind her ear, and then he traced his fingers down her neck to her shoulder. He tilted his head and focused on her lips. “I want to kiss you, Hope.”
He leaned in, his hand cupped the back of her neck, his fingers threading into her hair. His lips brushed her skin as he breathed in her ear. “And I want you to kiss me back.” His lips touched the hollow behind her ear, then traced a path across her jawbone.
The world stopped. Her heart exploded in a sensation that was wholly unfamiliar but completely wonderful. A breathy sigh escaped her lips.
His breath was warm on her skin, and her lips parted to breathe him in. She wanted to say yes, wanted to tell him she wanted the same thing—for them to be together. The words wouldn’t come. Instead, she closed her eyes and leaned forward in anticipation.
He wound his arm around her waist, his hand resting at the small of her back then he pulled her to him. His lips brushed hers lightly first, then with more pressure. His lips were soft and warm. The kiss tender and sweet.
Athan pulled away, and Hope was left off balance.
“Hmm.” He looked almost sleepy, but his smile was mischievous. “Again?”
“Please.” She ran her hands ran up his chest and to the back of his neck, trailing her fingers into his silky hair. Their lips brushed again and again, and then more deeply.
When they broke apart, both were breathing heavy.
“What are your plans tomorrow?” He continued to trace the back of her neck with his hands then trailed them over her shoulders.
“School.” She blushed at her incoherence.
He chuckled, and his laughter radiated through her, bringing a smile to her lips.
“Then I’ll see you at school.”
“Okay.”
He touched his lips to hers again, skimming them back and forth. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He pressed his lips to hers briefly then released her and stepped down to the walkway.
The hot shower felt great, and so did the coolness of her sheets, but all of this was lost. As she snuggled down under her blankets, she was giddy from the high, and her lips tingled with the bliss of her first kiss.
For the first time since her mother passed away, Hope felt excited. She alternately floated and buzzed through her morning routine. On the short drive to school, she envisioned what it would be like to have a friend—a boyfriend. At what point did you call someone your boyfriend? The thought made her giggle.
She opened the door and walked into the crowd of students.
“Oops.” Someone bumped into her, hard. “Excuse me.”
Her smile froze and then faded as she turned and looked down to Krista’s venomous face.
“I totally didn’t see you there. You just kinda blend. Almost like you’re invisible.” The girl’s lips curled into a sneer. She sauntered off, giggling, with her gaggle following behind.
Something ugly bubbled inside Hope, but she shoved it down. Krista had nothing Hope wanted. Nothing. Sure, he’d gone with Krista and Scott on Saturday night. But it meant nothing. Hope had told him to go. And he’d kissed her last night. That had to mean something.
She got to her locker and started to turn the dial when she heard a familiar voice.
“Hey, I forgot to ask you last night, where were you Sunday?” Athan drew close; his fingers separated a lock of her hair that he curled around his finger. “I called and called, but you never picked up.”
“Oh . . . yeah, sorry.” She pulled out the new phone in its bright pink case. “New phone. I texted you, though.” She frowned.
“New number, too?” He pulled out his phone. “Ouai. Sorry. I didn’t look.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Swapping digits, huh?” Haley bounced up in a new denim skirt and flip-flops. She looked ready for the beach. “I bet you’re so glad those creeps won’t be calling anymore.”
Hope shook her head and tried to signal Haley to shut up.
“So freaky . . . What?” Haley looked back and forth between Hope and Athan and settled again on Hope. “You mean you didn’t tell him?”
Athan frowned. “Tell me what?”
Hope pursed her lips. “It was nothing. I got a couple prank calls.”
Haley grimaced. “Nothing? You looked like you’d been chased by Apollo’s army. Freaked. Out.”
“You got a new phone because some guys were prank calling you?”
“Not just some guys,” Haley continued. “Some guys that were threatening her, like ‘We’re going to hunt you down—’”
“Do you know who they were? That’s harassment.” Athan’s nostrils flared, and he looked like he wanted to hit something, or someone.
The bell rang.
“Come on. It doesn’t matter now. New number. They don’t even know who I am.”
Haley waved goodbye, and Athan walked Hope to class.
“Seriously, if something like that happens again, Hope, you’ve got to tell me. It’s not right to keep secrets from me. You don’t keep secrets from your boyfriend.”
Did he just say . . .
Athan leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “Come on.”
When they got to the door, he paused, holding her back as he continued the conversation.
“Please don’t keep things from me. I’ll see you at lunch?” He held her with his gaze; his cadence wrapped her in silk.
“Um, okay.”
“I’ll meet you by your locker.” He turned to leave but looked back with a wink.
She heard a nearby student giggle, but she didn’t care. She smiled and went into class.
“How many of you have seen this?” Mrs. Biggers held up a newspaper and waved it in the air. “I’m shocked. It’s just so exciting!”
Hope slid into her desk and looked around the room. Heads were down; a couple people were texting on the phones in their laps. A few students had glassy stares fixed on their eccentric teacher.
“Let me read this to you,” she continued. “This is the second sighting of the monster many think is the ancient Sphinx. Mythologists around the world are flocking to Eastern Washington to hunt for the creature.” She looked up, her face alight. “Can you imagine?”
Hope forgot all about Athan. A second sighting? Her face grew hot, and she looked to see if anyone was staring at her.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were a monster,” Krista whispered.
Hope glared at her. “Who cares what you think?”
“Everybody.” Krista tossed her hair over her shoulder.
“Do you have something you need to share?” Mrs. Biggers stared from Krista to Hope.
Hope shook her head.
“Then I suggest you let me finish my lesson, ladies.” Mrs. Biggers took a deep breath in. “Now, where was I . . . Oh, yes. The sons of Apollo have been petitioned to hunt the monster. But some say there is no such organization. It’s most exciting. Krista,
what are your thoughts?”
Krista looked from Mrs. Biggers to Hope. “Personally, I think all monsters should be hunted and slaughtered. Even if they look human.”
“Interesting. You aren’t the only one who feels that way, Krista. So, class . . . What defines a monster? And who should make that determination?”
Hope waited until the students filed out of class to address Mrs. Biggers.
After a deep breath, Hope went up to her teacher’s desk. “Um, Mrs. Biggers?”
“Yes?”
“I’ll be out the last half of this week. My lawyer, Mr. Davenport, called, and I need to see him about the trust.” She wanted to sound confident, but her statement sounded more like a request.
“Of course.” Mrs. Biggers nodded. Students filed into the room. “You have the assignments. You can keep up.”
Chemistry was next.
While Mr. Burgess was doing a “dangerous, don’t try this at home” demonstration, whispers from Angela and Krista floated across the aisle.
“Did you and Athan have fun at the river on Thursday?”
Hope’s breath caught. She told herself it didn’t matter what they said, but her focus zeroed in on the two girls.
“So. Much. Fun. You should’ve come. Tristan and Lee were there, and Scott showed up later, too. Haley and Heather came, and Heather brought some friend of hers from the Dalles.” And then, louder: “It was perfect.”
Hope felt hot, and her stomach dropped.
“What did you guys do?” Angela asked, clearly more than a little jealous.
“Oh, you know, just hung out. Lit a campfire, told scary stories, roasted marshmallows. Did you know that Athan can play a whole bunch of musical instruments? And he can sing.” Krista’s voice dropped further, “He’s so incredibly . . . sexy.”
“Did anything happen?” Angela asked.
Hope shifted in her seat to get a better look at the two girls.
Krista looked like she’d won the lottery. “Well, he took me home, and do you count kissing? And, Friday for Twister.” She giggled, and her voice dropped. “And Sunday for poker.”