As Luke came up on them, the guys looked surprised and then amused to see him as they razzed, “Hey, is that Mars?”
“Someone set your clock ahead?”
“Mars, up before eight? Is the world ending or something?”
Luke scowled and slowed to talk. “Damn Jenks,” he muttered.
It was a testament to the general hatred of Jenks that the guys actually made sympathetic noises. “Oh, Jenks,” Tanner said knowingly. “What’d he get you for?”
“Who the hell knows?” Luke grumbled. “I’ve turned in every paper, on time, and I’m barely pulling a C. He’s making me get tutoring to stay on the team.”
“Sucks, man.”
“Don’t sweat it. Not like they can kick you off.”
“Well, they’re not going to,” Luke swaggered, but inside he was not so sure. He was just going to have to make this tutoring thing work.
“So...Val? Homecoming?” Stu asked him in that verbless way he had.
Homecoming. Luke knew there had been something he was trying not to think about. And Val.
Val was his personal cheerleader; every guy on the team had his own. Luke’s was a dark-haired and fiery beauty. The personal cheerleaders brought cookies or gifts for their team member on Game Day, wrote encouraging little notes and cheered them by name on the field. Some of the more feminist girls and teachers in the school were rumbling about abolishing the tradition of personal cheerleaders, but with the team on a winning streak that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.
And it’s not like Val was what anyone would call subservient; her Game Day gifts always had an edge to them that was both exciting and unnerving, a sexy game that she was playing that only she seemed to know the rules of. Luke and Val weren’t going steady but they were an item. He just wasn’t so thrilled with the idea that she expected him to ask her to Homecoming—that in fact everyone did. Where were these things written, anyway? It was like he had no choice about it.
He felt irritated and a little lost.
He knew he had a good life, but there were times that he felt strangely unfulfilled. He couldn’t have said what more he could want, and yet, something felt lacking, some purpose. And then he’d score the winning touchdown and hear the cheers of the crowd, and see Val cheering just for him...
“Would that be a yes or a no?” Tanner prodded.
Luke thought of Val, those legs that went on forever and the way a sweater clung just like skin to her perfect breasts, and that black hair and those black, sultry eyes...and that mouth...
Well, hell, who wouldn’t ask her?
“I guess,” he said nonchalantly. The guys gave one another knowing looks.
“Later,” he told them, and headed toward the library.
* * *
Aurora walked down the locker-lined hall, headed toward the library. She was still getting used to her teenage body and she was so nervous; she really felt sixteen, something she hadn’t felt since—well, since she had been playing sixteen, at this very high school.
The Norns didn’t have to live as mortals, of course; it was just more fun to interact that way. Gods and Norns alike had a long history of intermingling with humans. It had always been a kind of charming game.
But with Luke it had been different. It wasn’t a game at all. Aurora wanted to see the world through his eyes, feel what he felt, explore what he explored—taste, touch, hear, see, smell, sense everything that he did. And it all felt new because she was experiencing it with him.
She wasn’t sure when her feelings had changed, when she started losing her objectivity. Norns weren’t supposed to fall in love with their human charges; it was wrong, it was forbidden. But fallen she had.
She’d cried for him when his parents died, and watched hopefully as his grandmother had picked him up at the hospital to bring him back to what would become his home. That was the first day she’d appeared to him in real life, in the form of a little neighbor girl who could cry with him and laugh with him and hug him for real when he was sad. And more and more Aurora found herself not just watching over Luke but empathizing with him in a way that was different than it had been with her other mortal charges.
She was immortal, of course, but she felt like she was his age, that she had the same feelings he did. Was excited by the same things, was scared by the same things, saw the same colors, wanted the same things.
More and more it felt as if there were no boundaries between them, that she was feeling his feelings. It wasn’t supposed to happen, but what happened when it just did?
That’s when she’d started going to school with him.
But it wasn’t until they’d hit the teen years that Aurora really felt herself starting to go out of control. All those hormones! She was as giddy as any teenage girl around Luke.
And it was right here in the school that he’d broken her heart for the first time...the heart that she wasn’t supposed to have...
Aurora shook her head and tried to pull herself together. Stop it. You only have a day. You have to focus.
She opened the door of the library and walked in. At this hour she had the whole place to herself, except for Mr. Twitchell, the librarian, who didn’t even lower the newspaper he was hidden behind at the circulation desk. She walked into the cluster of round tables and sat down at one out of the librarian’s sight. Her hands were sweating just like a mortal’s as she watched the clock and the door simultaneously, holding her breath...on the verge of tears from sheer anticipation.
Then suddenly the chair across from hers was pulled out, and a red-haired, freckle-faced kid plopped down in the seat, startling her; she hadn’t heard anyone come in at all. His hair was spiky, gelled to within an inch of its life, and he carried a skateboard bristling with stickers, which he slid under his chair.
Loki, of course, ever the shape-shifter, decked out as an adolescent skatepunk.
As she stared at him, he grinned at her. “You like?”
“You look like a redheaded porcupine.”
He looked faintly injured. “I think it’s a good look for me.”
She tried not to glance toward the library door. “Please go away.”
Instead, he tipped back in his seat and put his Converse sneaker-shod feet up on the table. “I thought you should have a chaperone. You’re only sixteen. You have no idea what these jocks can be like.”
She rolled her eyes. “I think I’m safe enough in the library.”
“How little you know, child.”
“Please leave,” she said more urgently.
Loki hauled his legs down from the table and slid forward in the chair in one sinuous move. “Seriously, you’ve been exactly here and now before. And where did it get you? Nearly kicked out of the Aesir, that’s where. Not that the mortal isn’t just fabulous, but they’re all nothing but trouble in the end. Why start a war over this one?”
“No one’s starting a war,” she began.
Loki chortled. “Are you kidding? Val is just about nuclear. She takes this gathering-warriors-for-Odin thing very seriously.”
“Oh. Val,” Aurora said, feeling a tug of worry. She was actually surprised she hadn’t seen her sister yet; that wasn’t good. She knew she’d turn up just when Aurora least expected or wanted her. “I can handle Val,” she said bravely, and Loki gave her a knowing look.
“Have it your way.” He glanced at his watch. “I’d say you have about an hour, tops, before it all hits the fan.”
“Please go,” she hissed, and he shrugged and vanished.
Aurora looked around quickly to make sure no one had seen, and nervously flipped back her hair.
Then she saw the door opening, and her heart nearly stopped in her chest.
It was Luke.
* * *
Luke pushed through the library door and scanned the library—empty at this hour, and lit by those annoying fluorescents that made everything look like half-light.
At least it looked empty until he saw a girl sitting alone at a far tabl
e on the side. She looked up at him and then quickly looked down at her books. Luke was used to getting that kind of reaction from girls; the shyer ones didn’t seem to know what to do in his presence. And that was just fine with him; he knew how to handle the shy ones. This would be a breeze; he’d have her writing his papers for him in no time.
He took his time walking up, and looked her over as he approached.
She had creamy skin and shimmering red-gold hair, and for a second he was sure he had seen her before. She was pretty, for sure, someone he would have noticed, although truthfully, having his pick of cheerleaders meant that the less obvious girls sometimes slipped through the cracks.
This tutoring thing won’t be so bad at all, he thought to himself as he stopped at the table and looked down on her. “Aurora?” he asked.
She nodded quickly. “Hi.”
“That’s a pretty name,” he said, not actually lying. She flushed crimson. He pulled a chair out from the table and turned it around, straddling it. Girls always liked that.
“I really appreciate you tutoring me,” he added, looking into her eyes. Very blue and clear, like the sky.
“Oh, it—it’s no problem,” she stammered, and blushed again.
“It’s not that I don’t understand the class, you know.” Luke didn’t want anyone to think he was an idiot or anything. “Jenks just doesn’t seem to like me.”
“I could see that,” she said.
Luke stared at her, startled. “You can?”
She looked alarmed, as though she’d said the wrong thing, and quickly backtracked. “Well, a man like that, you know, always just talking about the great things that other people have done, never doing anything himself...it can’t be easy for him to see someone he knows is going to actually go out and do them.”
Luke was honestly shocked at her words. It was the way he’d always felt about Jenks; that there was a jealousy and resentment there under the surface of the man that was...festering was always the word he thought of, like something infected.
“I should’ve transferred out of the class at the start of the year,” he said glumly. “Now I’m stuck. If I don’t pass, I’m off the team. If I’m off the team, it’s no scholarship, no college...” His stomach churned at the thought. And then what?
“It’ll be okay,” she encouraged. “You’re going to do such great work he’ll have to give you an A.”
Her face was lit up, and he realized she wasn’t just pretty, she was beautiful. “Pretty sure of your skills, aren’t you?” He smiled down at her. At the same time, he wondered if someone who looked like her was enough of a nerd to get the actual job done. He needed to pass the class with a B or better.
“Me?” she almost squeaked. “Oh, no. I just know you can. I mean, I’m sure you can.”
“Oh, now you’re just practicing psychology on me, right?” Luke teased. “Psych me into thinking I can do it?” He was laying it on thick, but it never hurt to butter them up.
She looked at him with those clear blue eyes. “No, I know you’re destined for great things. Actually, everyone has the potential, but you...you could do anything you wanted to. All you have to do is choose.”
Luke looked away and laughed shortly. “I don’t know—feels like everyone’s trying to choose for me these days.” Luke hadn’t been aware that he was going to say it until it was out of his mouth, but now that it was, he realized he’d been feeling that way for some time. It only seemed to get worse with every college coach who showed up for a game and every day he got closer to college.
“That’s just noise,” the girl said adamantly. “The only thing that’s important is what you want. Your destiny is in your heart. You just need to listen.”
Luke looked back at her, a little stupefied. This was definitely the weirdest conversation he’d ever had with a girl, not what he’d expected at all. And talk about weird—she was so familiar but he really couldn’t remember ever seeing her before.
“Are you new?” he asked. He couldn’t believe he wouldn’t have noticed her.
“I... Yes.” She looked at the floor.
“How come I haven’t seen you?”
She blushed, and it strangely stirred him. “You’re always...occupied,” she said.
He laughed. “That’s one word for it.” Suddenly he felt that he had been missing out, or maybe something even beyond that. She stood out so completely from the other girls, who all dressed the same, acted the same, liked the same things. The more he looked at her, the more he realized that she was really, truly beautiful. Beautiful, but unlike, say, Val, she had no idea that she was, she didn’t use it; it was all natural and...sweet was the word.
Whoa, hold on. Luke Mars didn’t do sweet.
He shook his head, trying to clear it. “I need to get this paper in,” he said, to bring the whole thing back to the real purpose.
“Right,” she said, looking startled, as if she’d forgotten all about it. “What’s the paper supposed to be on?”
He was momentarily distracted by her eyes, so clear and serious, and those long lashes... Then he tried to remember the paper, and finally came up with... “Heroes,” he said. “Something like that. I mean, not really, but someone in history that I admire.”
“Oh, great topic!” she said with such enthusiasm he thought that maybe she was a nerd, after all. “That’s perfect!”
“If you say so,” he said dubiously, but secretly he was charmed. “What’s perfect about it?”
“In the sense of destiny, I mean. And choosing. You can do the paper and be thinking about what you want to do with your life at the same time—it all weaves together.”
“Okay,” he said. She was a little crazy, but he felt good with her, better than he’d felt in a long time.
She opened the notebook in front of her and sat with pen poised over paper. “So who do you admire?”
She turned those eyes on him again and for a minute he felt his heart stop. Whoa, this is weird.
“Well, I guess... Brett Favre.”
She frowned, so he explained. “You probably don’t know who he is, but you will. He’s starting quarterback for the Packers and...” He noticed she was being very silent. “No?” he asked.
She bit her lip. “Probably not what Jenks is looking for.”
“Right,” he said. “I knew that. I need someone historical.” She was frying his brain, was what was happening. He couldn’t think straight. Then out of nowhere, he said, “Marcus Aurelius.”
She looked startled, and then intrigued. “Really? Why?”
He shifted uncomfortably. “You don’t think so?”
She touched his arm impulsively and he felt a shiver. What’s going on?
“No, I do,” she said. “I meant, tell me why you think so.”
“You know who he is?”
“Well, of course. I was there when...” She stopped, flustered, as if he’d caught her at something. “I mean, I think I’ve heard of him. Why don’t you tell me about him?”
“Well...” Luke suddenly realized he wasn’t used to people asking him what he really thought, unless it was about what pass to throw or whether to go wide. “He was the old emperor in Gladiator. Not that all of the history was right in Gladiator, but Marcus Aurelius was real.”
Luke had seen the movie over and over again. The first few times it was for the kick-ass battle scenes, but then he had found himself noticing the old emperor, who was so wise and gentle, and how the gladiator Maximus, the hero of the movie, even as great a warrior as he was, just wanted to serve him. So he’d checked out some books and read up about Marcus Aurelius.
“I know you’re thinking this is all about battles and war, all that gladiator stuff, but it’s really not. He was the emperor of Rome in the first century B.C. They called him the ‘philosopher king’ and he made a lot of reforms to Roman government. All he really wanted to do was build things and study. But at the time Rome was under attack from the barbarian hordes and he had to be at war for most of his reig
n...”
He interrupted himself. “Aw, who wants to hear this?”
“I do,” she said, and looked at him with those eyes, those sky-blue eyes, and he felt like telling her.
“It wasn’t about glory for him. It was about using strength to preserve this idea of a society that could be just and wise and good. That’s what he thought was the true glory of Rome.”
And then somehow he kept going, words rolling out of his mouth like he’d been waiting for a chance to say all he’d been thinking about to someone. Which was weird, because he didn’t think he could have remembered everything he’d read, but he just kept talking about all the things the guy had done in his life and why he was a perfect combination of strength and vision. He spoke for what felt like forever, and she just listened, nodding, and watching him with those eyes.
When he finally stopped talking, he felt weak. He leaned back in his chair, and was about to say something—a joke, anything to clear the air—but she spoke first.
“Write that down,” she said.
He looked at her.
“What you just said. Write it down. Here.” She handed him a pen. He still wasn’t moving. She opened her notebook and ripped pages from it, put them in front of him and nudged his elbow. “Come on, just write down exactly what you said to me.”
“But that’s not a paper,” he protested. Papers were boring and tedious and mystifying. Opening statement, proof, closing statement, yada yada...
“Yes, it is,” she said. “You need to get all that passion part down first, and then you just put an introduction and a closing on it, that’s all. But it’s the passion that’s most important.”
“It’s the passion, huh?” He grinned, and looked at her in a way that always melted girls. But this time was different—this time he could feel himself melting, too. And suddenly it felt like time had stopped, and there was nothing but the present, and the two of them, and this live thing between them, thick and sweet as honey, and buzzing like electricity...
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