Starcrossed

by Josephine Angelini

  her mouth hanging open.

  “What?” he said, stunned when he noticed he was belting out the

  refrain all by himself.

  “You have a beautiful voice! Is there anything you’re not good

  at?” she asked with exasperation as she hit his arm playfully.

  “Apollo also happens to be the god of music. Now quit complaining

  and sing along with me,” he said, turning up the volume until

  the bass was rattling the car windows.

  Helen’s voice was not nearly as pretty as his, but she made up for

  her lack of skill with sheer enthusiasm. They finished the song together,

  and even stayed in the car after they had parked to play the

  instrumental ending. Lucas was on steering-wheel drums, and

  Helen was lead air guitar.

  “God, we sound amazing! My guitar solo was just inspired!”

  Helen enthused as she hopped out of the car.

  “We should tour,” Lucas agreed as he took her hand and led her

  into school.

  They were getting stares, but Helen didn’t care. She didn’t feel

  stomach pains anymore. She could relax now that she knew the

  Curse Cramps would only come as a result of her using her powers

  in front of mortals and not from any other kind of attention. She

  began to wonder how many of her past episodes had been real, and

  how many had been brought on by the fear of them. It was a relief

  to know that she had some control over the curse, and for the first

  time in her life, Helen felt like it might actually be okay to be a little

  bit different.

  “Aren’t we old news yet?” she asked him with a sly glint in her

  eye.

  “I don’t know. Let me check CNN,” Lucas said, pulling out his

  phone and pretending to open a browser. Helen gasped and

  clapped a hand to her mouth.

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  “Oh no, my phone! I forgot to tell my dad it’s broken again!” She

  stopped dead in the hall as she remembered how Hector had made

  her take a little swim with it.

  “Hector will buy you another phone. A better one,” was all he’d

  say as he kissed her forehead. “I’ll make sure of it.”

  “That sounds really bad,” Helen groaned, but the bell rang and

  she had to run or suffer Hergie’s wrath.

  The rest of the day was as near to perfect as a day spent in high

  school can get. Helen felt hugely energetic, Claire was a ninetypound

  ray of sunshine, and Ariadne, too, seemed in fantastic spirits

  as Matt helped her with her golf swing in the auditorium at

  lunch. Matt was the captain of the golf team, and Ariadne was

  thinking about joining, although first she had to learn how to play.

  “No, you’re still gripping the club too tight,” Matt directed her

  gently. “Think of it as a rapier, not an ax,” he said, unwittingly hitting

  the metaphoric nail on the head for her. Her swing instantly

  improved.

  “Cassie, why don’t you put that book down and come learn how

  to golf?” Ariadne called to her cousin.

  In response, Cassandra opened another book.

  “What are you looking for, anyway?” Matt called.

  “Charms or spells in ancient Greek myth that protect against

  wounds,” she said as she wiped a hand over her face. The gesture

  reminded Helen of Lucas. If Matt found Cassandra’s response

  strange, he let it go easily enough and focused on Ariadne and her

  “stance” instead.

  “How much longer do you think we have before we get caught in

  here?” Claire asked.

  “Who cares? This is one of the best ideas Lennie’s ever had. We

  should enjoy it while we have it and not ruin the moment worrying

  about losing it,” Matt answered serenely.

  Claire looked at Helen and they both nodded, surprised by Matt’s

  wise answer.

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  “To Matt Millis. Friend. Philosopher. Golf Pro,” Helen called

  back, saluting him with her thermos.

  “Here, here,” called Claire. She raised her soy milk in a lazy toast.

  Matt took a dignified bow and blushed when Ariadne smiled at

  him.

  “Hey, Len? Did you get a new necklace?” Claire asked, reaching

  out to touch the charm that Helen always wore.

  “No, it’s the same old same old. Are you going crazy again, Gig?”

  Helen responded, trying to eye her heart charm.

  “It looks like a strawberry, not a heart. Or maybe it’s just shinier.

  Probably I’m crazy.”

  The next few days were blissful, and Helen felt a peace she hadn’t

  experienced since the Deloses had arrived on the island. It was as if

  someone had put a combination of Spanish fly and Prozac in the

  water. Helen kept up her training in the afternoons, but as the days

  passed with no sign that Creon had returned to the island, Helen

  found herself forgetting about the danger. The only person who

  seemed immune to the good cheer in the air was Zach. He kept trying

  to talk to Helen alone but she was avoiding him, which was

  easy enough when she was being guarded by a family of demigods.

  Still, each time she dodged him she could tell that he got more and

  more resentful.

  She was hoping that if she put the whole situation off for long

  enough no one would even remember how she had collapsed as she

  chased some shirtless stranger. Hoping that if she stalled him long

  enough, Zach would let it go. But instead his attitude was becoming

  more and more urgent. The last thing Helen wanted was to tell

  Lucas and make an issue out of it. After the whole “Hector tried to

  drown me and ruined my phone in the process” incident, Lucas

  had happily beat the stuffing out of his cousin in the newly finished

  arena, and an hour later a toothless Hector had given Helen a new

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  phone that she was pretty sure had enough computing power to

  put a satellite into orbit.

  But Zach was making it impossible for Helen to protect him. The

  more he kept trying to corner her, the more suspicious Lucas became,

  until the inevitable happened. After school on Wednesday as

  Lucas walked with Helen to track practice, he saw Zach wandering

  around nearby. When Zach saw Lucas he changed direction and

  went to the boys’ locker room, but not before his suspicious behavior

  was noticed.

  “Is Zach after you?” Lucas asked with wide eyes.

  “Oh, not really. He wants to talk to me about something, I think,”

  Helen said as if it wasn’t important. She shut her mouth before she

  could say too much.

  “Yeah, I’ll bet,” Lucas said with a sneer, his blue eyes turning

  nearly black as he sensed her untruth. “Is there any reason for

  Zach to think that you might be single?”

  “No! Wait, what?” Helen stammered, not understanding Lucas’s

  anger.

  “Did you tell him that you and I weren’t really a couple because I

  won’t . . .” he trailed off, and ripped a hand through his hair as he

  paced around in a circle. “What are you telling people about us?”

  The outline of his body began to smear as he scattered the light

  around him in agitation.

  “I haven’t told anyone anything!” Helen said, her voice pitching

  up to an unnaturally hi
gh register.

  “Are you trying to make me jealous or are you just so frustrated

  that you’re already looking for someone else? Someone who’ll give

  in to you?” He was so angry Helen could barely see him as he

  began to blur himself out, but she was angry, too.

  “I am NOT looking for anyone else!” she howled at him.

  Lucas took an involuntary step back as he stared at the halo of

  pale blue light crackling around Helen’s head and hands. Her lightning

  didn’t seem to respond to Lucas’s light control, and as the

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  distortions he created were thrown back by Helen’s metallic glow

  he was forced to shade his eyes.

  “Oh, boy,” she tittered nervously. She felt like she was going over

  the top peak on a roller coaster—and she was just about to drop

  down.

  She threw an arm out to the side to steady herself. Lucas took a

  step forward to grab on to her, but wisely stopped himself before

  he touched her and got electrocuted. Then the blue light went out

  like a switch had been turned off and Helen plopped onto the

  ground like a half-baked soufflé.

  “I feel awful,” she told him, a bewildered look on her face.

  “Are you . . . grounded yet?” he asked her, practically vibrating

  with worry.

  Helen looked at the floor and giggled insanely as the electricity

  running around her body tickled her brain.

  “Nope. Linoleum,” she said, slapping the palm of her hand

  against the nonconductive floor. Her vision swam in static. “You

  were r.r.right. I should have learned to u.u.use this.” She had to get

  rid of the energy, stat.

  “Luk.k.k. Run.n.n,” she said, her jaw jittering uncontrollably with

  energy as her bolt demanded to be released. She had held it too

  long.

  Lucas wouldn’t leave her, and Helen knew she could kill him if

  she didn’t do this right. She racked her lightning-filled brain and

  luckily remembered fourth-grade science class. Desperate to rid

  herself of the monster she had summoned, she slid on her knees to

  the exit door at the end of the hall and rammed her shoulder

  against it.

  As soon as she came in contact with the metal release bar that

  ran across the middle of the door it glowed orange with heat and

  started melting. She barely moved fast enough to open it before the

  whole door turned into a solid block of smoldering metal. Tumbling

  down the short flight of steps and crawling outside on her

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  knees, she threw herself forward onto her hands. With a welcome

  sigh she discharged her bolt into the one place that it would be

  safely dismantled—the ground.

  After a few seconds she felt herself get pulled up from the forgiving

  earth and carried away.

  “Are you injured?” Lucas asked anxiously.

  “Just wicked tired,” she sighed, a little surprised at herself for using

  the word wicked. She was too weary to care. “Really, put me

  down,” she demanded when he didn’t respond. He stopped and

  balanced her on her feet. She rubbed her tongue across her teeth

  and then sucked at the roof of her mouth.

  “Wow, I’m thirsty! And I think I know why! It’s like lightning,

  right? So that means I’m generating the electic—I mean, erlecic—I

  mean, the bolt—by ripping apart the water in my body! That makes

  total sense,” she said, hearing herself sound like a cheerleader who

  had suddenly figured out how her pompoms were made.

  “Helen? You’re scaring me. Here, sit, please. Do you need

  something?” Lucas asked, making her look him in the eye. She still

  seemed to be throwing off sparks.

  “I do need something,” she said, struggling to control her diction

  and her fuzzy brain as best she could. “I need to tell you what’s going

  on, so that you and I don’t accidentally kill each other over a

  dumb misunderstanding, and I need you to promise me that if I

  tell you, you’re not going to beat anyone up.”

  “I don’t think I like this deal,” he said dubiously.

  “Tough.”

  He nodded his agreement. She looked around for a moment and

  then decided to sit down on the top step of the outside stairs before

  she fell down.

  “Zach was the one who saw me chasing Creon. He dropped some

  pretty threatening hints in class the other day, about me and about

  you and how abnormally fast and strong we all are. Now he keeps

  trying to talk to me alone and I think he might be trying to

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  blackmail me or something. I’ve been dodging him for as long as I

  can because . . .”

  “The longer you wait, the more likely it is that the whole thing

  turns into a big fish story and no one believes him, anyway,” Lucas

  finished for her with a knowing nod.

  “Right. You are so smart,” Helen marveled.

  “And your brain is fried,” Lucas said, smiling at her indulgently.

  The smile fell away. “Because of me. I’m such an idiot,” he

  mumbled, looking down at his twisting hands.

  “Correction, you’re a jealous idiot, and that has to change right

  now,” Helen replied seriously, still feeling light-headed, but fighting

  her way through it. “You have no reason to be jealous. I told

  you that I don’t want anyone but you. I never have.”

  “You’ve lived your whole life on this island, you don’t know what

  ‘anyone’ means yet,” he sighed. “And you have no idea how . . . Attractive

  isn’t the right word. It doesn’t fully describe the effect you

  have on men. On me. Look, I’m not a jealous person, Helen, really.

  All the other girls I’ve dated . . .” Lucas broke off, took a breath,

  and regrouped his thoughts before starting again.

  “You know, I never believed in ‘The Face That Launched a Thousand

  Ships’ thing. I used to hate that part in the Iliad. I even

  laughed at it,” he said. Then he paused and shook his head ruefully

  as he raised his eyes to the sky for a moment, mentally kicking

  himself. “It’s ridiculous, when you think about it. A ten-year war

  because some selfish coward ran off with an unfaithful woman? It

  made me angry, and I hated Paris and Helen for being so weak.

  Then I did something very, very stupid. I swore I would never have

  made the same choices they did—that I would have been stronger.

  Then, two weeks later, I saw your face for the first time.”

  “Wait,” Helen said. She blinked with thirst, fatigue, and shock.

  “I’m not Helen of Troy. I’m Helen Hamilton from Nantucket, and

  no one is launching anything to come and get me. I think you’re

  confused.”

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  “I wish I was,” he said hopelessly.

  “Hamilton!” yelled Coach Tar, clutching her clipboard and

  marching toward them with her eyes wide. “Are you on fire?!”

  Helen looked at where Coach was pointing and realized that the

  ground all around her was seared and black. The exit door looked

  like something out of a Dali painting.

  Luckily, Lucas was a fantastic liar. As a bevy of teachers came

  rushing to their aid, he explained that there had been some kind of

  electrical sparking from above
the door, suggesting that perhaps

  the exit sign had shorted. He and Helen had run outside to stomp

  out the sparks that had drifted onto the grass. As he wove his story,

  Helen could hear how honest he sounded, how convincing. She

  nodded every time he looked at her, knowing that she needed to

  keep her mouth shut or she’d ruin the whole thing. Since the fire

  was obviously electrical and the only possible source was the exit

  sign, the story was believed.

  Helen and Lucas insisted they were uninjured, but as a precaution

  they were told to go to the nurse’s office for a quick checkup.

  Just before Lucas led her away, Helen spotted Zach staring at them

  from the crowd, his eyes frightened and resentful. He knew they’d

  caused the fire. Helen touched Lucas’s shoulder and pointed Zach

  out, and Lucas nodded, understanding her meaning perfectly.

  “So much for letting it blow over,” she murmured ruefully.

  “We’ll discuss it tonight with my family. Cassie will know what to

  do,” he whispered, taking her sooty hand in one of his and texting

  his cousins with the other as they walked down the hall to the

  nurse.

  Mrs. Crane checked them over, shook her head in wonder, and

  declared them both perfectly well enough to go home, or even back

  to practice if they wanted, though she gave both of them a nonsensical

  lecture about hanging around under electrical death traps.

  Then she looked at Helen’s necklace and smiled sweetly. “I’ve always

  loved butterflies,” she murmured, lightly touching Helen’s

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  charm, before shooing them both out of her office in her stern but

  kindly way.

  Helen and Lucas beat everyone else back to the Delos compound,

  deciding once they arrived that they were entitled to a few moments

  of relaxation before they began what Helen had started

  thinking of as her superhero lessons. They stopped in the kitchen

  to get Helen another bottle of water and then went for a little fly.

  “Jase and Hector will call when they’re home from practice.

  We’ve still got about another hour or so,” Lucas said confidently

  when they touched down in the dunes. They walked down to the

  half-damp sand that was flat and firm and perfect for a stroll.

  “We’re supposed to have our first track meet next weekend,”

  Helen said suddenly, biting her lip with worry. “I don’t know if

  Coach’ll let me run after missing so many practices.”

  “Yeah, about that,” Lucas said, sighing heavily and making her