Something True

by Kieran Scott

  I could hardly breathe. Was he actually remembering things from before? Remembering us? I grabbed his wrist. “Orion, what do you—”

  “What the hell is this?”

  The whole café fell silent. Apollo stood near the door, which was still swinging shut, his feet in a fighter’s stance, his fists clenched at his sides. The black button-down he wore was open too deep at the neck, exposing the hair on his chest and his defined muscles. His acne had gotten worse, traveling down the bridge of his nose and across one cheek, and his lips twitched as he glanced at his sister, who, for the first time in her vain existence, looked like she wanted to disappear.

  “You’re allowing this to happen?” he demanded of her.

  “What do you want me to do? He has no clue who I am.”

  “You again?” Orion stepped in front of me as if to protect me, which melted my heart like a glob of ice cream on a hot stove. “True, that girl is crazy. You should get out of here.”

  I glanced around the crowded shop. Mr. Carlson stood up from his table, sensing something was about to happen. A couple of Orion’s teammates sat on high alert, a close eye on Apollo. All these people. If Apollo snapped, they could be hurt. But what was I supposed to do?

  Apollo approached us, shoving aside chairs that were occupied by customers and knocking one man over in the process. Someone squealed. Apollo looked at me over Orion’s squared shoulders.

  “My sister may have struck a deal with you, but don’t think that doesn’t mean I won’t end you right here. Harmonia’s not around to save you anymore.”

  Orion lifted his chin. “Dude, back off or I’ll call the cops.”

  “Son? I’d do as he says,” Mr. Carlson said, stepping up behind Apollo.

  Apollo ignored him. He looked Orion in the eye and snorted, stepping so close to him Orion had to tilt his head back to keep from kissing Apollo on the lips. “So pathetic you are. I’ll never understand what they see in you.”

  “I said back off,” Orion said firmly, shoving Apollo back with two hands. Apollo slammed Mr. Carlson in the shoulder, and he reeled back.

  “Daddy!” Zadie shouted.

  Apollo pulled his arm back for a punch and Veronica screamed, but Artemis was on him like a pouncing jaguar, grabbing his wrist with both hands before he could strike.

  “Brother, let’s go.”

  He whipped his arm out of her grasp but let it fall. Then he leaned past Orion, bringing his mouth ever so close to my ear. The tendons in his neck were taut, and I could feel tiny pulses of tension vibrating off him. One wrong move and he was going to snap. His breath smelled like rotten fruit.

  “You may not care for your own safety, but I know you care for his,” he whispered. “I’ve ended him before. Anger me, and I’ll do it again.”

  “Apollo!” Artemis snapped.

  He stood up straight, smiled wickedly at me, and walked backward toward the door, deftly stepping over backpacks and chair legs as he went. His eyes never left mine, and it wasn’t until the door closed behind them that I finally breathed again.

  “Are you kids okay?” Mr. Carlson asked.

  “We’re fine. Thanks, Mr. C.” Orion turned to me, his face lined with concern. “True? What did he say to you?”

  My whole body shook. I couldn’t look Orion in the eye. Apollo, as ever, knew how to strike where it hurt. He’d threatened Orion’s life. Even though his sister loved him, he’d threatened him. And I knew he would make good on that threat. He’d caused Orion’s death once before when she loved him. There was nothing to stop him from doing it again.

  I was putting him in danger right now, simply by continuing in his presence.

  “I have to go,” I said, taking a step back.

  “Wait. True—”

  “I’m sorry,” I told him, meeting his gaze just long enough to feel my heart break. “I have to go.”

  It wasn’t until I had locked myself into the tiny employee bathroom that I finally allowed myself to cry.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Darla

  Wallace reached for the door of Goddess Cupcakes on Sunday afternoon, and it opened right into his hand.

  “Son of a!” He pulled his arm into his chest, almost dropping his iPad as he bounced around in pain.

  “Wallace! Are you okay?” I blurted, reaching for him. His knuckles were bright red. “We might need to get you some ice.”

  “No. It’s fine.” He shook his fingers out. “I’m good.”

  Orion stepped out onto the sidewalk, distracted. He looked like he’d just thrown up—totally pale and tense. Which was a shame because otherwise, nice outfit.

  “Sorry, man. You okay?” he asked.

  “Yeah. Fine.” Wallace winced as he flexed and curled his fingers. “May never play the piano again, but it’s not like I wanted to anyway.”

  “Where’re you going?” I asked Orion, glancing inside the cupcake shop, which was, as predicted, slam-packed. “We just got here.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m really not feeling well,” Orion told me, glancing over his shoulder. “I think you’re gonna have to do this one without me.”

  “Oh no! Really?” I asked. “But look! Everyone from school is here.”

  I had so been looking forward to this—working the crowded hangouts as a couple, holding hands and chatting people up. Nobody ever campaigned outside of school, so when Orion had suggested it, I was sure it was really going to bump up our numbers. And now this.

  “Well, if you’re sick . . . ,” Wallace said in a leading way, looking at me pointedly.

  And suddenly I felt like an ass. Three days ago Orion had accused me of having a one-track mind for homecoming, and now here I was, proving him right.

  “God, sorry. Of course. If you’re not feeling well, of course you should go home. I’ll call you after.”

  “Okay.” Orion nodded, his eyes off somewhere down the street. “I’ll talk to you later.”

  He gave me a quick, dry kiss on the cheek and speed-walked toward his car, which was parked at the curb, its cherry-red paint job gleaming in the autumn sun.

  “Guess it’s just you and me then,” I said to Wallace.

  He lifted his eyebrows in surprise. “You sure? You still want to do this?”

  “Why not?” I asked. “Homecoming’s in six days. It’s now or never.”

  I yanked open the door and held it for Wallace. There was a distinct buzz in the air inside the shop. It was noisier than usual, and everyone seemed to be gossiping. But then again, that wasn’t so odd. Almost every person in the room was a teenager. Gossiping was our national pastime. I pulled out a fistful of my cards and was about to start working the room, when I saw Veronica at a center table with Kenna and Mariah. She spotted me at the exact same moment.

  “Hey, D. I didn’t know you were gonna be here,” she said.

  Mariah and Kenna looked away. That was when I got that icky feeling in my stomach. Clearly they’d made a plan to meet up here today, and the plan hadn’t involved me.

  “Me neither,” I said, walking slowly to their table. “I mean, I didn’t know you were going to be here either.”

  Her eyes flicked past me and took on that glint that I knew so well. The one that meant she was about to eviscerate someone. I almost sidestepped in front of Wallace, as if I could possibly stop a word-bullet in midair.

  “And with Wallace Bracken. Wow. You two sure have been spending a lot of time together,” she said loudly.

  A couple of guys from the soccer team snickered. My face flushed.

  “We came to campaign, actually,” I told her. Wallace stared down at his iPad with his jaw clenched, but I could tell he wasn’t really looking at it.

  “Oh really? Shouldn’t you be doing that with your boyfriend?” Veronica said pointedly.

  She glanced around at some of the kids from our scho
ol to make sure they were paying attention. Why was she doing this to me? But then, of course, I knew. Veronica saw me as a real threat in the homecoming race. She’d as much as said so before the game on Friday, and Josie had pretty much sealed it when she’d said she was going to vote for me. It looked like Veronica had finally decided to declare war.

  And I was officially terrified. Yes, I had fantasized about winning. Yes, I had imagined what it would feel like to be declared more popular, prettier, better than Veronica Vine. But my best friend was not about to go down without a fight. And if there was one place no one wanted to be, it was in Veronica Vine’s way.

  “He said he wasn’t feeling well,” I told her quietly.

  Mariah perked up. “Yeah, well, you should have seen what just—”

  Veronica brought her hand down on Mariah’s arm, and Mariah’s mouth snapped shot.

  “Maybe it was the sight of you slumming it with the dork of the century that made him nauseous,” Veronica said, earning a few laughs. “But then again, I guess it’s okay, since he was in here two minutes ago having a very intense conversation with that True freak. Maybe the four of you can set up a date for a loser foursome.”

  “Burn!” the guys from the soccer team shouted, slapping hands.

  My stomach flopped over and wheezed as Veronica took a casual sip of her coffee. Say you’re just kidding, I willed her silently. Take it back.

  Part of me knew I should walk away. That I shouldn’t stand here and let her humiliate me like this. But it was a teeny-tiny part. The rest of me knew I needed her. I needed her to laugh it off and invite me to join them. I didn’t want her to leave me out in the cold. I loathed myself for it, but I couldn’t stop feeling that way.

  “Oh, look,” Veronica said with a smirk. “I made him flee.”

  I turned around just in time to see Wallace shove open the door to the shop and walk out. Not that I could blame him. He was probably having traumatic flashbacks to Veronica’s seventh-grade torture.

  Veronica looked up at me and smiled. But it wasn’t a wicked smile or a victorious smile. It was a nice smile. A welcoming smile. Instantly my insides began to relax. How did she do that? How did she switch gears so quickly?

  “Want to sit? I’ll split my red velvet with you,” she said.

  The defiant part of me still screamed to turn my back on her and bail, but it was far, far too weak. When I sank into the chair, it was with total and utter relief. Everything was forgotten. Orion, Wallace, homecoming, the two pounds of business cards in my bag. Everything.

  I hadn’t lost Veronica. I hadn’t lost my place. At that moment, that was the only thing that mattered.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  True

  I shoved open the gate at the side of our house on Sunday afternoon after my shift, sick to death of crying, sick to death of living in fear of Artemis and Apollo and their whims. Apollo couldn’t just walk into Goddess and threaten Orion’s life. This game was officially on.

  Looking up at the clear blue sky, I stepped to the center of the small, square yard.

  “Ares, mighty God of War, I beseech thee, come to me in my time of need.”

  A fierce wind whipped through the trees, sending orange and brown leaves swirling toward the sky, and Father appeared before me. He wore a brown sleeveless shirt, black pants, and black boots and was covered with smears of blood and inky tar. Sand clung to every bit of exposed skin and had settled into the folds of his clothes.

  “That was fast,” I said. “Where were you?”

  “The desert. Always the desert these days.” He dusted his arms off and sucked in a breath, his nostrils wide. “What am I doing here?”

  “Harmonia told me that Hera has no intention of allowing me or Artemis to return to Mount Olympus,” I said, stepping closer to him.

  “It’s true. She fears you, Eros. I told you this. She fears your growing powers. Yours and those of Artemis,” he said succinctly. “She thinks the fact that you regained your powers even while banished to Earth might mean that you’re on your way to becoming an upper goddess.”

  I lost my breath, nearly doubling over at the waist. “What? Is that even possible?”

  My father turned up his meaty palms. “All things are possible. You know that. The queen does not take kindly to pretenders to her throne. She might be able to keep you in check while you’re banished to Earth, but back on Mount Olympus, you’ll be at full strength.”

  My mind reeled. An upper goddess? I had never dreamed . . . Well, okay, I had dreamed, but that was all, because as far as I knew, no one had ever ascended from one caste to the next. To be an upper goddess . . . that was a lot of power. Did I even want that much power?

  No. There was no lust for more authority or clout within me. My job, my calling, was to create and nurture love.

  “I have no desire to take the queen’s throne,” I told my father. “I only wish to return to my rightful place among the gods. I am no threat to her.”

  “Of course you’re not,” my father replied. “You have a pure soul. You’d never rise up against the upper gods, because you do not crave power. You crave love. Artemis, on the other hand . . .”

  “So why not blame her? Why not simply smite her?” I asked, pacing angrily, moodily, toward the almost bare magnolia tree. “What do I have to do with anything?”

  “I know your true soul, my daughter, but Hera does not,” my father said, wiping his palms quickly against his backside. “Hera believes, and has always believed, that everyone is out to get her. The very idea that two lesser goddesses might one day wield enough power to overtake her position as queen . . . she can’t abide that.”

  I plucked a curled red leaf from a tiny, shivering branch and held its stem between my thumb and forefinger. It looked like a small, withered heart.

  “Will Zeus still return Orion’s memory if I succeed in my original mission?” I asked.

  “I believe he will,” my father said. “He doesn’t like Hera’s posturing, but he seems willing to let her have her way with you and Artemis. Happy wife, happy life, you know. Also, he doesn’t relish your growing power any more than she does.”

  I shook my head. Power. It was always about power with these upper gods.

  “Should you succeed, however, I’m sure he’ll return your mortal to you,” he continued. “If only to save face.”

  My jaw clenched in determination. “Then I must win.”

  My father’s eyes widened. “Are you telling me you’re ready to do battle?”

  “Apollo has threatened Orion’s life,” I told him.

  Ares laughed. “Of course. When it’s your existence on the line, you don’t care, but as soon as that mortal is threatened—”

  “I love him!” I shouted, throwing the leaf to the wind.

  “It’s rather shortsighted to be more worried about him than yourself,” my father spat. “He’ll be dead in a mere seventy years now that you’ve rescued him from the stars. You have an eternal purpose to fulfill.”

  He wasn’t wrong. But whenever I pictured Orion’s face, my purpose didn’t matter.

  “I will kill Artemis if it is the only way for me and Orion to be together,” I told my father. “He is the only thing that truly matters to me. Even if I must be made mortal and banished to Earth to have him.”

  My father shook his head, rolling his eyes at what he perceived to be my weakness. I squared my shoulders and stood before him, straightening myself to my full height.

  “Father . . . even if you don’t agree with my motives . . . I want you to teach me to fight.”

  His eyebrows darted up, and a spark of intrigue lit his eyes. Instantly his entire posture relaxed, and he did something I’d only rarely seen him do. He smiled.

  “Finally.”

  * * *

  An hour later, my muscles were shaking, I had a cut above my lip that re
fused to stop bleeding, and I couldn’t feel my toes. That had to be a bad sign. I bent over the bench in the rear corner of our yard, clinging to my ribs, trying to keep them inside my body, as I was sure they were cracked and about to poke their way through my skin.

  “Mercy!” I shouted, holding up a hand as my father advanced. I turned around and sat.

  “Do you know who’ll show no mercy?” my father said. “Artemis. She’ll gut you where you sit.”

  “I just need a five-minute break,” I told him, my hair dripping salty liquid onto my sneakers.

  “No. You need to concentrate, Eros,” my father said, backing up with his feet switching front to back, front to back, like a true boxer. “You’re not blocking.”

  I shoved myself up. “You’re punching too fast.”

  His fists dropped. “Do you have any idea how much I’m holding back?” He squatted in front of me, hardly winded. “Listen to me. Artemis is not as experienced a fighter as I am. You need to watch her eyes. If you see where she’s looking, you can anticipate her next move. Now try.”

  I took a deep breath, which hurt like hell, and stood up with raised fists. A drip of blood tickled my top lip, and I licked it away. I stared into my father’s eyes. They darted to the left side of my face. I reached up and blocked his punch.

  “There! You see?”

  I smiled slightly. “Okay. Try it again.”

  He blinked and went for my gut. I jumped back, then lunged forward and threw an uppercut. My father leaned away from it, but I still caught the very tip of his chin. I heard the satisfying clack as his bottom teeth met his uppers.

  “Very good!” he cried with a grin.

  Then he threw a right hook. I blocked it. He tried a body blow and I blocked most of that, too, though he caught my ribs again. I reeled away, coughing, which only made the pain worse. My father stood up straight and dropped his arms.

  “Perhaps we should stop. I don’t want you to be injured if Artemis happens to change your timeline on a whim. You need to be in top form.”

  “You want to stop now? Just when I’m getting it? Besides, you can simply heal me when we’re done here.”