by Raye Wagner
“You guys played poker?”
“Mm-hmm.” She raised her eyebrows. “Strip poker.”
Hope couldn’t wait for class to end.
Angela’s eyes went up. “Really? Who won?”
Krista rolled her eyes. “Uh, when you play that game, everybody wins.”
“So, did he pick you up Friday?”
“Uh, no. He was over at . . .” Krista inclined her head.
Angela followed Krista’s gaze, and her eyes locked on Hope’s.
“What was he doing at her house?” Angela whispered.
“I don’t know. It was kinda weird. I think she was trying to get him to stay.” Krista shook her head. “So pathetically sad.”
Hope gritted her teeth to stop herself from saying anything. It was torture to pull her focus back to Mr. Burgess, and despite facing front, her attention kept drifting. Had Athan just played her?
When the bell rang, she collected her books and headed down the hall. She saw Athan standing at her locker, playing with the dial. When he looked at her, her heart rate picked up.
“What’s the matter?” Concern danced across his features.
Hot with emotion, she responded, “Krista and Angela were talking about the weekend in chemistry.”
She looked at him, expecting him to understand.
He grimaced. “They’re not your friends, are they?”
“No way.” As if! She glared at him. Did he not know her at all?
“Okay. Are you mad because you weren’t invited to the river? I tried to invite you, but—”
“No,” she cut him off, frustrated. “Krista said that you kissed her. And you took her home, and played strip poker . . .”
Athan suppressed a chuckle, a grin stretching across his face.
He thought it was funny? She clenched her fists. Before she could hit him, Athan held up his hand.
“Let me explain . . . just a little.” When she nodded but said nothing, he continued, “I told Scott and Tristan I would go with them last week. I tried to invite you Thursday, but you made it clear that you didn’t want to hang out.”
She remembered the abrupt text she’d sent him and nodded.
“We played a game about truths and lies, and I’m not sure winning is really best. Anyway, I did take Krista home then, and Tristan. I dropped her off first. I’m not interested in her. Not at all. And Sunday night? I had to take off my shoes and socks. That’s all. I promise I wasn’t the one who lost that game.” The smirk remained, like he was enjoying an inside joke.
“What’s so funny?”
He shook his head. “You can’t call what happened a kiss, either. And that was all before there was an us, Hope.”
She dialed her combination, dropped in her books, and grabbed her lunch without glancing back at him. Was that supposed to make her feel better? She closed the locker, and he was still staring at her, his smile just playing at the corner of his lips.
Because it didn’t.
Hope slammed her locker shut, then looked around for Athan. He’d left in the middle of algebra, and she thought he’d be back by now.
She stared down the hall, willing him to appear. A group of students passed her then started laughing. Then another group.
The smell of overcooked vegetables and beef gravy wafted down the hall from the open doors of the lunchroom.
A group of girls pushed past, bumping her shoulder. A couple of them snickered as they passed.
Someone shoved her, and she lurched forward. Hope turned and faced Krista.
“I’m sick of you always putting your face where it isn’t wanted,” Krista spat.
“Excuse me?” Hope could hardly believe Krista’s hostility. “What are you talking about?”
“You’re disgusting, you know that?”
Hope shook her head. “What did I ever do to you?”
“Ugh. Your entire life is offensive. And not just to me.” Krista looked back at her friends with a nod. They were like a horde of wannabe Barbies. “You’re a monster, and we’ve already sent a message to the sons of Apollo.”
Hope’s heart stopped. Krista couldn’t be serious. Was she?
“You don’t even know what you’re messing with.” Hope took a step forward, ready to . . . What? What could she do?
“And when the demigods find you,” Krista sneered, “they’ll rub you off the face of the earth.”
With all the bravado Hope could muster, she closed the gap separating them and looked down on Krista. Hope wouldn’t hit the stupid mortal girl, but she wouldn’t lay down either. “You’re just jealous because Athan picked me.”
Krista drew her hand back, and this time Hope knew what to expect. She caught Krista’s wrist before she could strike.
“I told you not to do that again.” Hope released Krista’s arm with a little shove.
“You have nothing that I want,” Krista shrieked. “Nothing.”
She drew her leg back, and Hope could see the projected course of the kick. Swinging her arm low, Hope blocked, changing the trajectory of Krista’s leg.
Hope could see it before it even happened.
Krista was too close to the lockers. She spun, wind-milled her arms, and lost her balance. Her face bounced off the metal as she went down. Crimson gushed, and Krista’s hand flew to her nose and lip.
Hope backed away, hands up.
“What’s going on?” A cafeteria worker came up to the gathering crowd. “Oh. Oh, no.” She looked at Krista and yelled for someone to get ice. Then, surveying the group, the woman’s gaze landed on Hope. “You. You did this?”
The other students backed away.
“It was an accident.” Hope’s fear warred with her pride. “She tried to kick—”
“And yet,” the lunch lady said, “she’s the one bloodied on the floor.”
Krista sobbed hysterically.
“To the principal’s office.” The matronly woman’s voice was steely. “Now.” Then, she bent over Krista. “All right now. Let’s get some ice on that and get you to the nurse.”
Could this day get any worse?
“Miss Treadwell, you seem to be causing quite a stir today.” Mr. Jeffers waved her into the office.
Hope sat down on the edge of the chair and leaned away from the sunlight. “She tried to kick me, sir, and when I blocked her, she fell.”
He nodded, as if considering his words. “Do you want to tell me what the fight was about?”
Not really.
“She was with a group of her friends, she pushed me, called me a monster, and told me that she was going to get the demigods to kill me.” Hope rushed through the explanation, afraid that Mr. Jeffers would cut her off any minute.
“I see.” He took a slow, deep breath. “Normally, we suspend instigators, but you’re not really in a position to be missing any more school.”
Had he not heard a word she’d said?
“Sir, I didn’t start the fight. You can ask anyone in the hall. They all saw it.” And she was hardly flunking out. Her lowest grade was ninety-seven percent in algebra. Last time she checked, that was still a solid A.
“And Mrs. Biggers said you will be out the rest of the week?”
“I have meetings with my attorney in Seattle,” she bit out. Hope was trying to keep her frustration in check, but she was seething.
His leaned forward on his elbows and templed his fingers. “That’s a lot of time to meet with your lawyer.”
What was she supposed to say to that?
When she said nothing, he dropped his hands. “Well, you better go get your homework for the rest of the week. I’d hate for you to get behind.”
Hope stood and walked to the door.
“Oh, and Miss Treadwell?”
She turned and looked back at him. “Yes?”
“No more fights in my school.”
For real? “Yes, sir.”
She escaped the office and leaned against the wall facing the cafeteria. Students pushed their way through the halls,
a sea of oblivious humanity, and Hope resented their ignorance and freedom.
“Hope!” Haley yelled over the ruckus. “Oh. My. Gods! I just heard what happened. Did you kick her butt? I can’t believe she did that to you.”
Hope turned to her best friend and wearily responded, “Word spreads fast.”
Haley wrinkled her nose then waved at the crowd of students. “She sent the picture to everyone.”
Hope froze. “What picture? What are you talking about?”
Haley’s slack expression mirrored Hope’s confusion. “What are you talking about?”
Hope couldn’t stand it. There was more? How much more could go wrong today? “No. You first.”
Haley pulled out her phone and turned it to Hope.
There she was. Hope’s face amid a mass of writhing snakes. She looked every bit a Gorgon. Part of her felt outraged, but another, albeit smaller, part was relieved. At least Krista didn’t know the truth.
“Now, what are you talking about?” Haley dropped her phone back into her purse.
“Just a few minutes ago . . . Krista tried to kick me, but when I blocked, she fell.”
Haley laughed. “Poetic justice.”
“Sadly, Mr. Jeffers didn’t see it that way. What’s up with him? He keeps lecturing me on missing school, and it’s not like I’m even a bad student.”
Haley snorted. “Oh, yeah. He would totally hate you. You get good grades but miss classes a lot. You’re like proving how wrong he is, how school doesn’t even matter.”
“What?”
“His grandmother is Athena,” Haley said by way of explanation. “He thinks the school is his way to get her approval or something.”
“Where did you hear that?”
“My dad. He’s big into mythology.”
Haley Stanley. The dots connected. “Your dad is Mr. Stanley? The butcher?”
Haley shook her head. “I know. I know. But, really, he’s pretty cool. For a dad.”
“He is cool.” Hope felt a pang of jealousy. The bell rang, and she looked around. “Where’s Athan?”
Haley grimaced. “Sorry. I was supposed to tell you. He had to run home, but he told me to tell you he’d be back before school got out.”
With a sigh, Hope went to Spanish.
“Hey, beautiful.” Athan leaned against her locker, his head resting on the metal door. He stood up, almost as if peeling himself off. “Sorry I missed your fight today.”
Hope rolled her eyes. “Nothing like the fight you got in. This wasn’t even a fight. No one got hit.”
“I got in a fight? When?”
“Like a month ago, I think?” Hope grabbed the books she’d need for homework for the rest of the week, which was all of them.
“I never got in a fight . . . Whoa! Why are you taking all your books? Are you . . . running away?”
She slammed her locker shut. “If I was running away, I wouldn’t be taking homework.”
“True. All right, I’ll bite. Where are you going?”
“If you’d been here for more than five minutes today, you would know that I have to go to my attorney.”
“For a month?”
“No. Just a couple days.”
Athan nodded. “Bummer. I was going to ask if you wanted to go to Portland. Maybe we should get together tonight?”
They got to her car, and he leaned against the driver’s door, blocking her entrance. As he reached up and twisted the loose strands of hair back into the knot at the nape of her neck, his shirt hem lifted above his waistband, revealing taut golden skin.
It took a moment to gather her thoughts. “Won’t you be tired after your work out?”
“Hardly,” he said with a chuckle. Hooking his finger in her jeans, Athan pulled her closer. “If you’d like to go for a run, I promise I’ll have plenty of energy for you.”
Despite the cold fingers playing with the hem of her shirt, Hope felt heat emanating from him.
She shivered and put her hands on his chest. A gust of wind swirled around them. The smells of spring carried possibilities and hope. He took her unruly hair, tucked it behind her ear then trailed his hand down her neck. Her heart, already a staccato drumming in her chest, surged into cardiac arrest territory.
The sun peeked out from behind the clouds. The light touched Athan’s shoulder, revealing a silvery spot, almost like a scar. As Hope traced the odd, irregular mark, it took shape. It seemed unlikely, but it looked just like a lyre.
She shook her head. “What is this?”
He shrugged. “A birthmark. Weird, huh?”
The light dimmed as the wind blew more clouds over the sun. The mark all but disappeared.
“It looks like a harp, kinda.”
“Yeah—” A thumping bass sound from Athan’s pocket interrupted him. “Just a sec.” He pulled out his phone. “Hello?”
Hope watched as he grimaced, then his jaw clenched.
“All right. All right! I’ll be right there.” He disconnected and sighed.
“Who was that?”
“My dad,” he said. “He came into town this morning.” He frowned. “Do you really need to go away this week?”
Was he using her as an excuse to get out of seeing his dad?
“You don’t want to spend time with him?” She would give anything to spend just an hour with her mom again.
“No. It’s not that . . .” He pulled her close. “Could we still do something tonight?” The small gap between them disappeared, and their legs touched. His hands moved to her hips and kept her hostage. “Can we go have dinner, or just spend some time . . .”
Her breath hitched as he kissed the hollow below her ear.
“I wish . . . I could,” she managed to say with an uneven breath, “but I’ve got to get stuff ready for my appointment.” She stepped back. “I’d better go.”
His eyes shifted, his gaze intent on her face. His phone started ringing again, and he ran his fingers through his hair, ignoring the incessant sound.
“Yeah, me too.” Touching her chin, he whispered, “Please, be careful.” His jaw clenched, and a vein pulsed in his neck. “Please.” He took a step back, painted on a smile, and added, “And have fun.”
She stared at him, something pulling at her consciousness. “Thanks.” She unlocked the door and slid into the car. “See you in a couple of days.”
He wasn’t looking at her anymore, and his fists clenched then released. “Yeah, see you soon.”
Her initial plan to stay home till her Friday appointment with Mr. Davenport seemed oppressive. She didn’t want to be cooped up for the next two days as a Sphinx. No. She would drive toward Seattle and find an uninhabited area to stop. A place where she could fly. Far away from civilization. She couldn’t afford another sighting.
She ate, gorging herself until she felt like she would burst if she took another bite. Then she packed a couple sandwiches for the morning. It was all she could do to prevent the need to eat over the next two days.
There were some things she appreciated about being the Sphinx. She loved being able to see at night, as well as over long distances. Her reflexes were better than a human’s, and some of the physical capabilities were fun, like leaping from a tall building and landing on her feet, just like a cat.
Up until her mother’s death, Hope had enjoyed these skills. How had she forgotten that? She could see it clearly now. For months, she had wallowed in self-pity. While she went through the motions of living, it had been a mere existence.
Over the last couple of weeks, she’d drawn strength from her emotions. Her life was a mess, but the choices were hers. She’d felt happy, sad, confused, hurt, angry. Most important, she’d felt. She didn’t want to lose that.
She packed an overnight bag with a change of clothes and toiletries, took her homework to do during the day, then glanced around her house. All set.
She climbed in bed, hoping to sleep before her alarm went off at four o’clock.
It was dark as pitch when she got u
p.
Eastern Washington was sparsely inhabited in places, and she expected to find somewhere that would serve her purpose. She drove, her mind wandering, and when she hit Toppenish, she glanced at the clock. Plenty of time. She continued toward Yakima.
When she hit the freeway, she glanced again in her rearview mirror. Was that Athan’s truck? She slowed to get a better look but wasn’t able to see more than a few cars behind her through the early morning traffic. I must be delusional, or really obsessed.
The fuel light came on. Flipping on the blinker, she swerved across the three lanes to get to the exit. The early morning hours were cold and dark. Unwilling to leave the safety of the bright lights over the gas pumps, she huddled by her car. She exhaled a sigh of relief when she got back behind the seat and clicked the locks.
As she drove up I-82 toward I-90, she started scanning for a good place to stop.
A sign indicated no services for fifty miles. The pressure in her back was building. She had about twenty minutes before sunrise. This area would have to do. She just needed an exit.
She drove another ten miles before she saw an exit sign, then followed ramp to a four-way stop. The road to the left had grass growing up through the asphalt, and she took several odd turns until she saw a dilapidated barn off a dirt road. She sighed with relief.
The decaying structure smelled of old hay and rotting wood, but lacked any recent evidence of human use. As she pulled the sagging barn door closed, she noticed the sky lightening. She undressed and stretched upward.
The first rays of the sun broke the horizon, and the tension in her back released as her wings expanded with a whoosh. Heaviness pulled at her hips and knees, and she gritted her teeth as the muscles in her legs cramped and seized. After another heartbeat, it was over, and Hope sat on her haunches. She beat her feathered wings twice, reveling in the strength. The soft downy fur that covered her skin was the same golden honey as her hair, and she ran her hand over the silky coat.
She grabbed her backpack and left the barn before the sky got any lighter. It was always risky leaving cover, but she wasn’t waiting.
Instinct took over. She pulled her wings down hard and let them float back up, again and again, creating the change in pressure that would give her lift. When her body left the ground, she laughed. She rose high into the sky, past the low-flying birds, up to where the eagles flew.