by Kieran Scott
Then they started to turn. I dove down again, my cheek against Orion’s thigh, my face turned toward the steering wheel. My fingertips automatically gripped the fabric of his jeans. I hadn’t been this close to him in heaven knew how long, and I relished every moment, every sensation, every touch.
“True.” He said my name like a question, like a plea, like a demand.
I turned over so that my feet were on the ground, but my back was across the console. My hair trailed down between his legs. It wasn’t comfortable, but now I was looking at him. Looking at Orion. My Orion.
He lifted his right arm, the leather sleeve of his jacket squeaking, and gently touched my face. My heart pounded.
“True,” he said again, and this time his voice was full of emotion. Full of love. He lifted me toward him, and my breath caught. “I can’t.”
And then he kissed me.
Tears sprang to my eyes. Tears of relief, of joy, of sheer ecstasy. I clung to him and kissed him back with everything I had. I’d waited for this moment for what felt like an eternity. Ever since I’d been torn away from him back at the palace, and even more since the day he’d been sent to Earth and hadn’t known me. Orion’s tongue parted my lips and I moaned. I clutched him to me, wanting to feel every inch of him.
“True,” he whispered, tilting his head as he pulled me to him once more.
“Orion,” I replied, barely able to speak. “My Orion.”
My body burned for him as I found his lips again. I held on to him so tightly I thought my fingers might break. He was mine again. He was mine. And I would never let him go.
Then his phone chimed.
Orion instantly pulled back. Our lips parted so quickly they made a sucking noise. He fumbled for his phone, shaking.
“It’s from Darla,” he said, his voice throaty.
I looked through the window again. Darla, Wallace, and the florist were walking toward the front of the school, toting small vases bright with blue-and-white flowers. They hadn’t yet noticed Orion’s car.
“‘Where are you guys?’” Orion read. “‘We need help with setup.’”
I slumped down and covered my mouth with my hand. I hadn’t a clue what to say. What to do. My brain felt as if it was floating on a sea of murky water.
“What the hell’m I doing?” he said under his breath, pocketing his phone. He moved to open the door, and I grabbed for his hand.
“Orion, no. Please. We have to—”
“I can’t, True,” he said, looking down at me, his expression pained. “I don’t want to cheat on her. I don’t want to be that guy. This was a mistake. I’m sorry. Wait a minute or two, then come in. I’ll come back for the boxes later.”
If only I’d had my powers, I could have stopped him—locked him inside with me until he admitted his love for me. But I couldn’t do that, and Orion opened the door and was gone. Five seconds. In five seconds we’d gone from kissing like our lives depended on it, to him being gone. The world around me seemed empty, like I was trapped in some sort of sun-dappled abyss.
Slowly I opened the car door.
With a deep breath, I stepped out onto the parking lot’s asphalt surface, my legs shaky beneath me. My lips still tingled from the kiss, and I reached up to touch them gingerly. It had really happened. It hadn’t been a dream.
But now that I’d felt his kiss again, now that I’d tasted him and touched him and breathed him in, I needed him even more. I had to finish this, and I had to do it soon. Because if I couldn’t be with Orion, I was going to go mad. Plain and simple. Then it wouldn’t matter what Artemis did or didn’t do to me. Without Orion, all was lost.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Orion
“Oh my gosh! Did you see that? What a catch!”
Darla grabbed my arm and shook it. We were hanging by the stoves in the kitchen at the back of the cafeteria, waiting for the school chef—who was an entirely silent old guy with an earring and a skinny black mustache named Geraldo—to load up two more trays of pancakes. The players, cheerleaders, fans, and parents were pretty much on their third helpings by now, but still hankering for more. The tiny TV mounted to the wall was playing college football highlights on ESPN. I had sort-of-kind-of seen the catch, but sort-of-kind-of not. Because my mind kept replaying that kiss with True over and over again, making me feel either nauseous or heart-poundingly turned on with no warning.
“That game was crazy,” Darla said, leaning against the wall. “Did you see it?”
She grabbed a piece of bacon out of one of the trays and crunched into it, then picked up another and handed it to me. I thanked her and ate it like the good boyfriend I was pretending to be. On the other side of the propped-open door into the cafeteria, dozens of kids from school sat around eating and laughing and gossiping, but of course the only person I saw was True. She was mopping up a puddle of maple syrup, her long hair pulled back in a bun.
“Orion?”
“Sorry,” I said, blinking. I somehow felt like I’d just woken up. “What?”
“I said, did you see the Michigan game on Thursday?” She gestured at the TV. Geraldo flipped a pancake onto a stack of about ten and transferred the whole thing into a wide silver tray.
Last weekend if you’d told me that Darla would have seen a football game I hadn’t seen and that she’d be psyched to talk to me about it, I would have laughed so hard I would have ruptured something.
But here she was, looking at me all bright-eyed and eager. She was spending her Saturday morning at a Boosters pancake breakfast instead of sleeping in or working at the boutique she loved, and she was vibing on ESPN. It was obvious to the world that she was trying. Which meant it was well past time for me to stop thinking about True. The kiss was a mistake. It was a blip. Darla was my girlfriend. My homecoming date. I should start treating her like she was.
I reached for her hand. She looked at me, startled, and popped the last bit of bacon into her mouth.
“Hey, listen. Do you want to do some campaigning tomorrow?” I suggested. “It’s supposed to be nice out, so everyone will probably be hanging out in town. Maybe we could walk around and, like, press the flesh or whatever.”
Darla couldn’t have looked more stunned if I’d dropped down on my knee and popped the question.
“Really? I’d love to!” she said. “I can’t believe it!”
Geraldo added more pancakes to the tray, then pushed it in our direction. Which I took as my cue to go. I lifted one tray and Darla took the other.
“You don’t have to sound so shocked,” I said with a laugh as we walked through to the cafeteria. The line for more pancakes was already a mile long. We brought them to the serving table, where Claudia, Peter, Wallace, and some other people were holding down the fort.
Darla wiped her hands on her white apron and turned to me. Underneath that apron she was wearing gray leggings and an oversize LCHS sweatshirt, her hair pulled to the right in a side ponytail. I noticed for the first time that she was also almost makeup free—nothing but some shimmer stuff on her lips. She looked pretty this way. Younger. Like she wasn’t trying so hard.
“Sorry. I just figured if someone was going to bring up homecoming today, it would be me,” she said with a wry laugh. We walked back to the kitchen for the smaller trays of bacon. “But guess what? Wallace came up with this great idea.”
From the big front pocket on her sweatshirt, she pulled out a folded piece of paper and held it out to me. Printed on it were two sides of what looked like business cards. The first side was a pretty black-and-white picture of Darla. The image below it showed the second side, which read Darla Shayne for Homecoming Queen. All friend requests accepted! Underneath was her Facebook URL.
“I don’t get it,” I said.
“We’re not supposed to give out gifts or anything, right?” Darla said, biting her lip. “So we were trying to figure out wh
at we could do virtually, and everyone wants more friends on Facebook, so we’re going to have these business cards printed and hand them out. Actually, my mom’s assistant is rush printing them and bringing them over tonight.”
I laughed and shook my head. “It’s brilliant. You can give them something without actually giving them something.”
“Exactly!” Darla said with a grin. “I’m glad you like it, because we had some made up for you, too.”
She pulled out another page, this one showing my card. On it was the picture she’d taken at practice the other day, right before we’d bitten each other’s heads off. I actually felt touched, even though I didn’t care about winning homecoming king. She totally didn’t have to do this, especially considering everything I’d said to her that day.
“Darla, this is really cool,” I said, looking her in the eye. “Thank you.”
I leaned in and touched my lips to hers. My whole face felt tight as I remembered vividly the last place my lips had been, and I pulled back quickly, but Darla didn’t seem to notice.
“No kissing in my kitchen,” Geraldo said tonelessly, speaking for the first time in the last hour.
“Sorry,” I said, turning beet red.
Darla laughed.
I bet 90 percent of the guys at my school would have killed to be in this situation—kissing two hot girls in one day—but I wanted to crawl under a rock and wait until they both graduated just so that I wouldn’t have to deal anymore.
“So why don’t we hit Goddess tomorrow and hand some out?” Darla suggested, folding the pages back into her pocket.
I tasted bile in the back of my throat. “Goddess?”
As if on cue, True’s laugh sounded through the cafeteria and bounced around inside my chest like it was trying to find a cozy spot to rest.
“Yeah.” She shrugged and grabbed a tray of bacon, balancing it between her hip and arm. “That’s where pretty much everyone will be, right? We can go there and then hit Moe’s and Pizza City.”
“Makes sense,” I said, reaching for a second tray filled with sausages.
“Maybe I’ll ask Wallace to come too,” she said. “He could do some polling and see how we’re doing.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
I reached for her free hand and squeezed. Maybe this was like a test from the universe. Or my penance or whatever. Go to the place True worked and be the perfect boyfriend to Darla. If that was what I had to do to prove myself, then I’d do it. I didn’t want to feel guilty anymore. I wanted everything to go back to the way it was a couple of weeks ago, when my world was golden, uncomplicated, carefree.
“Thanks, Orion,” Darla said, leaning in to kiss my cheek. “This is gonna be so much fun.”
“Yeah,” I said, trying to ignore the way the pancakes I’d devoured earlier were sitting like a rock-solid lump in my stomach. “So much fun.”
* * *
Darla and I spent the whole day together, doing homework at her house, going for a walk, watching TV. Basically me being the best boyfriend I could possibly be. When I left Darla’s around ten o’clock, I was exhausted, even though we hadn’t really done much. Apparently juggling feelings for two girls took a lot out of a guy. My car was parked on the street in front of her house, and when I came around the tall bushes at the edge of her yard, there was a girl standing next to it. She looked up when she heard me coming, and I realized it wasn’t just any girl. It was the girl from True’s gang, wearing a leather jacket with shiny gray sleeves and the tightest pants I’d ever seen.
“Hello, Orion,” she said calmly. “I knew I would find you if I followed Eros. I hope you don’t mind me waiting until dark to approach you.”
“Who the hell is Eros?” I took a step back. “How do you know my name?”
Her brow creased. “They told me you wouldn’t remember me, but I had to see it for myself.”
“Remember you?” I asked, glancing around. Had she brought anyone else with her, or was she alone?
“It doesn’t matter now,” she said. “The queen will fix everything.”
Suddenly she lunged at me and grabbed my wrist. “I have him!” she shouted at the sky. “Bring us home!”
I ripped my arm out of her grasp and backed away. “You’re crazy.”
The girl looked down at her palm. It shook like my thighs after a squat workout. “No,” she said through her teeth. “No! No! No!”
Slowly she clenched her fingers into fists at her sides. I backed up even farther. Girl looked like she was about to blow.
“You gave me your word!” she screamed at the top of her lungs. Not at me, but at the world. At least, that was what it seemed like. She turned in a circle, bent at the waist, just raging.
“Orion?” The front door of Darla’s house swung open. She stood on the step, framed by the light. “Is everything okay?”
“Go inside,” I said, jogging toward her as I ripped out my phone. Whatever was going on with this girl, I didn’t want Darla to get caught up in it. “Go inside and we’ll call the police.”
But by the time I got to the door and looked back, the girl was already gone.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
True
I stood shivering next to the war monument at the center of Lake Carmody, unsure as to whether my shakes were due to fear, excitement, or the serious temperature drop. Next to me, Hephaestus was subdued and serious, his eyes trained on some crack in the brick walkway as he breathed in and out at a steady rhythm. For the last ten minutes I dared not speak and risk breaking him out of whatever trance he’d put himself into in order to survive these last moments before Harmonia would appear, but I couldn’t contain myself any longer.
“What do you think she’s going to say?” I blurted.
“I don’t know,” Hephaestus replied, his voice thin.
I paced back and forth in front of him, my boots crunching over fallen leaves. “Do you think Zeus is going to let us come home?”
“I don’t know,” he repeated.
“Well, do you think Hera’s annoyed with us for making a deal with Artemis?” I asked.
“I don’t know!”
Hephaestus’s shout echoed throughout the deserted park. He pressed his lips together and glared up at me. “I’m sorry, True. I’m barely holding it together here. What time is it?”
“It’s eleven fifty-nine,” I told him after a glance at the clock tower above the post office across the street.
At that moment, Artemis and Apollo crested the stairs leading up to the park, their steps timed in perfect unison. Each wore a formfitting black leather jacket and tight black pants with black flat boots. For the first time I wondered where on Earth they were getting their clothing. I hoped they hadn’t beaten some poor hipsters to death to get it.
“We’re here,” Artemis said with a scowl. “Where’s your sister?”
“I have a bad feeling about this,” Apollo said, his head pivoting from side to side as if he were no more than a mechanized puppet. A boil of a pimple had erupted on his chin, and his left eye kept twitching. Life on Earth was not agreeing with him. “What if they intend to ambush us?”
“Harmonia, part of an ambush?” Hephaestus said with a snort. “You’ve forgotten who you’re dealing with.”
Suddenly a stiff wind kicked up, sending the leaves at our feet into a fantastic, swirling vortex. I lifted my hands to shield my face from the whipping debris but was still nicked below the ear by a particularly sharp stem. Then, just as suddenly as it began, the wind stopped, and Harmonia stood before us. She wore a white dress with cinched waist and capped sleeves, her hair pulled back from her face on the sides. The sight of her left me speechless, but it didn’t stop me from flinging myself into her arms.
“Eros,” she said quietly, burying her face in my hair as she clung to me, her cool fingertips pressing into my back. “It’s s
o good to see you.”
I pulled away and we held on to each other’s elbows. Her skin felt as silky and smooth as ever, the blush on her cheeks high and bright. She smiled at me—a reassuring, patient, loving smile—then turned and knelt before Hephaestus. There was so much love in her eyes as she gazed up at him, I couldn’t believe I’d never seen it before. He reached down and cupped her face with both hands, his fingers trembling.
“My love,” Harmonia breathed.
“I can’t believe it,” he said, smiling through tears. “I can’t believe you’re really here.”
She stood up, slid onto his lap, and kissed him. My heart swelled and I pressed my palms against my chest, one on top of the other. Thousands of years of longing went into that kiss. Anyone could have felt it. I was hardly able to contain my own tears.
“Can we get on with this?” Apollo groused.
Harmonia pulled back, still gazing admiringly at Hephaestus, but he shot a scathing look at Apollo that made him pause.
“What?” Apollo said. “We’re here for a reason, are we not? What news does Hera send? Is she restoring my powers so I can smite Eros?”
He rubbed his hands together in anticipation, shifting his weight from foot to foot as his mouth and eye twitched. He looked like some sort of evil imp, his pupils dilated, his movements jerky. The old, scheming Apollo was threatening enough, but this new Apollo—the one who seemed to be holding on by a thread—was a whole new kind of terrifying. He seemed as if he could snap at any moment.
“No.” Harmonia stood, smoothing the front of her dress. Hephaestus reached over and took her hand, clearly unable to let her go, now that he had her near him again. Harmonia looked me in the eye. “But she knows of this pact you two have made, and she’s not happy.”
“Oh, really?” Artemis blurted, speaking up for the first time. “You’re here to tell us we’ve angered the queen?”