by Melody Rose
The hardest part, honestly, was losing Benji. He was still the kind, sweet boy we all fell in love with, but if we ever wanted to hang out with Benji, we had to hang out with Zach too. Zach sat with us at every meal, and if we tried to have a study group, Zach came along. Zach was nice enough, but he was a graduated soldier. There was an obvious difference between students and soldiers, and it showed.
On the rare occasion that Zach wasn’t with us, Benji wasn’t there either. We were like a square missing a corner. Our group felt lopsided and imbalanced. It was even worse when Darren was at the med bay, like this morning at breakfast.
I sulked at the table, lifting my oatmeal up out of my bowl and letting it drip down the spoon. I slumped my head into my hand, my palm smashed against my cheek. Violet slid into the bench across from me, with her own bowl of oatmeal, though hers smelled of blueberries, whereas mine was a cinnamon mess.
“You’re pouting again,” Violet said.
I looked up and noticed her own grim expression. “You don’t look too chipper yourself.”
“I know,” Violet sighed. She matched my posture, her own chin in her hand. “I miss the boys.”
“Right?” I slammed my arms down on the table. “And with you and I not being roommates anymore, I feel like I hardly see any of you.”
“How’s that going, by the way?” Violet asked, though her tone told me she already knew the answer.
“I have two roommates now.” I rubbed my eyes, a new wave of tiredness hitting me. “Rick never leaves. Also, I need some earplugs.”
“That’s what they should be handing out at the med bay along with the condoms,” Violet groaned.
“They’re handing out condoms at the med bay?” I straightened up, surprised by this news.
“Oh yeah,” Violet giggled. “The minute someone gets diagnosed, they give them condoms and put them on the pill.”
“Gods,” I sputtered. “I didn’t even think about that factor.”
“Are you still a virgin?” Violet asked like it was a deep, dark secret. With her free hand, she fiddled with her necklace, but she wouldn’t look me in the eye.
“No, but what does that matter?” I defended stubbornly.
It was as though the air deflated out of her. Her face fell, her lips turning downward as if she were disappointed in herself. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I’m sorry, I’m just… jealous of all these couples. Like, I know it’s not real, but I want what they have. Is that stupid?”
At her confession, my heart cracked. It was honest and vulnerable. I completely understood her jealousy in a way I hadn’t before. It didn’t occur to me that some people might want to be in love like this. It was a side effect of this disease that I didn’t anticipate.
“No,” I said with a slight shake of my head. “It’s not stupid at all.”
“It feels stupid,” Violet whined.
“Love’s not stupid,” I said, feeling more like a fortune cookie than actually meaning the words.
“Have you ever been in love?” Violet asked. She folded her hands over one another and leaned her chin on them, like a nosey housewife with nothing better to do.
I scoffed reactively. “Not once.”
“Me neither,” Violet said with an eye roll. “I had a couple of boyfriends in high school, but none of them ever stuck.”
“I really only dated because other people did,” I winced, thinking of my high school self. “I would have much rather been in the forge.”
“Why doesn’t that surprise me about you?” Violet said with a sympathetic smile.
I shrugged, offering only honesty.
But then Violet’s face turned serious, so suddenly that it almost scared me. “But don’t you want somebody? Someone to make you feel special?”
My mouth opened and closed, unable to think of an answer. I appreciated men and definitely found them attractive, but something more than a one-night stand or a weekend never appealed to me. Not that I had that many of those anyhow. Not everyone found my bright red hair and calloused hands attractive. What frightened me more than anything else was I hadn’t thought about having someone before now. Before Ansel.
I coughed suddenly, choking on my own spit. Violet’s eyes grew worried, and she leaned over the table to slap me on the back. Through the small chaos, I sorted through my thoughts that popped up about the Fotia soldier. He definitely took me by surprise. While yes, I wanted to sleep with him, it was the desire for something deeper, something more that surprised me the most.
“You okay?” Violet asked, and I nodded in response even though my eyes were still watery. Violet returned to her seat and took another couple of bites of her oatmeal.
“I always wanted a family,” Violet said as she looked wistfully into her breakfast. “I wanted a big family to cook for.”
“Wanted?” I asked, emphasizing the past tense.
“No, I still do,” Violet rushed in to clarify. “I just… this whole love disease thing is making me feel like I’m behind.”
“Violet,” I said as I reached across the table and took her hands. “Darren’s going to find a cure, and then everything will go back to normal. We don’t want all of that.” I waved my hand out to the rest of the tables, one with a handful of touchy-feely couples. “If you want to find a person, then you will. But you don’t want to find it that way, through whatever this is.”
“I know you’re right,” Violet sighed. “It’s just hard to watch.”
“You’re telling me,” I chuckled. “Classes with Benji is all ‘Zach this’ and ‘Zach that,’” I moaned. “Especially in Grecian art. He keeps hoping Zach will walk in naked again.”
Violet released a laugh that made me feel better about this whole conversation. It was nice to hear my friend relax back to a comfortable place.
“You don’t have Grecian art this morning, do you?” Violet checked.
“No, but I have to be outside in Agriculture,” I groaned.
Violet rolled her eyes at me. “That’s not bad. I’m off to Mythology 201 where the curriculum has officially switched to all of the disastrous affairs of the gods and goddesses.”
“Oh, all the fun sexual exploits,” I scoffed. “Enjoy all that.”
“Say hi to Mac for me,” Violet leaned across the table and kissed my cheek.
Mac was the only good part of Agriculture. The rest put us out in the fields under the sun. We helped Mac prep for the harvest which I didn’t mind considering I got to have some tools in my hand. But I wanted a roof over my head and soot on my hands rather than the sun on my neck and dirt under my nails.
However, to my surprise, Reese came to get me for testing. When she first came up over the hill and asked for me, I forgot my name for a hot second.
“Me?” I pointed to my chest. “But I’m fine.”
“We’ll know for sure after we complete the tests,” Reese explained. “There’s a chance that people can still be infected, although the disease hasn’t fully manifested yet.”
“Oh,” I muttered, surprised at this turn of events. I wondered how many people they found positive for this love-struck disease.
The walk to the med bay was a quiet one. We only collected one more person on our way over, a first-year boy with bushy eyebrows and a square jaw. He grimaced the whole way to the med bay and didn’t say a single word. Not that I was really in the mood for conversation either.
Once we reached the med bay, there was a short line at the front in the lobby where Alexander worked. Students and guards alike held out their hands, pointer finger extended. There were three nurses attending to the demigods. They used a new device for each person. The instrument pricked their fingers, collected the blood, and then went in a hole in the wall that sucked them up like one of those old bank teller machines that would send my mom’s checks through. Each one whooshed through the air and to the lab at the other end of the med bay.
“We just start with an initial blood test,” Reese explained as she ushered us into the lines. �
��Once we examine that, we’ll see what we need to test next.”
I nodded as if all of this made sense to me, when, in fact, I didn’t know what they were testing. Darren kept rather hush-hush about the whole thing, and I didn’t blame him, considering how we’d basically stolen the initial results from Zach and Benji from him. So I just followed the other demigods and waited to get my finger pricked.
It felt like a pinch, and the nurse offered me a small, tired smile and a pink neon band-aid. I wrapped it around my finger and then met Reese on the other side, where she escorted a larger group of us down the hallway.
The next stop was a wide room with two rows of patient beds. Nurses buzzed around from bed to bed like bees. Some of the pale blue curtains were drawn over the hospital beds, whereas others hung open, revealing students and guards waiting for their turn. The whole area smelled of lemons and bleach, a sharp scent that pinched at my nose.
As if he were a magnet, my eyes spotted Ansel right away. His shirt was off, revealing the firm muscles in his back and shoulders as he hunched over the side of his bed. His shaggy blond hair hung in his face as he bowed his head and stared at the tile floor, eyes closed.
Bolts of electricity zoomed through my body at the sight of him. I swallowed so loudly that the first year I can in with gave me an apprehensive look. I shrugged him off and continued to follow Reese when I realized we were headed directly for Ansel. Or at least, for the empty bed next to his.
Panicked, I shifted around for any excuse not to be next to a shirtless Ansel. But I would have had to dash across the room to grab the next available bed. And Reese already had her arm outstretched, gesturing to the empty bed.
“You can be here, Cheyenne,” she instructed.
At the sound of my name, Ansel’s head lifted. He turned to look over his shoulder and met my eyes instantly. I offered him an embarrassed wave which he returned with a half-smile.
“Thanks, Reese,” I grumbled, and the nurse moved on without a response, taking the first year with her.
I didn’t sit on the bed or touch anything in my small corner of the med bay. Instead, I rubbed my upper arms as if the room had suddenly grown chilly. I did everything I could not to look at Ansel, but I could feel his eyes on me like a ray of sunlight on my neck.
“So, are you Love Struck?” Ansel asked casually.
“Love Struck?” I wondered, picking up on his specific enunciation.
“That’s the nickname for the love disease,” Ansel explained with a half shrug like he wasn’t that impressed. “Love Struck.”
“Makes sense,” I said with a slow bob of my head. “But no, I don’t think I am.”
“Me neither,” Ansel replied. “Or at least, I don’t think I am.”
“They’re saying though that they’ve been finding traces in most everyone,” I said, repeating Reese’s words. “It just hasn’t manifested in everyone yet.”
“That’s terrifying,” Ansel scoffed.
There was a lull in our conversation, and Ansel switched positions on his bed. He now faced my bed, which I still refused to sit on. He spread his legs over the side of the bed and leaned back, bracing himself with his arms.
“I don’t like this,” he confessed.
“Me neither,” I agreed. “Give me a flock of harpies or a clay minotaur any day over this.” I mentioned our previous battles meaning it as a joke, but I realized, just then, that all of the monsters I’d faced, I’d faced with Ansel. Those battles were significant markers in my life, and he had been there for every single one. Something about that felt important, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.
“Yeah,” Ansel sighed in agreement. “But it’s more unnerving to me that someone else could be in control of my emotions. I wouldn’t get a say for myself.”
“You really can’t control your emotions anyway,” I said unthinkingly.
Ansel’s eyebrow raised. “You have to, as a soldier.”
“Right, but I just mean…” my voice trailed off. What did I mean? It took a moment to find the right words. “You just feel what you feel. You might be able to hide what you’re feeling, but that doesn’t make the feelings go away.”
“Are you good at it?” Ansel asked. “Hiding your feelings?”
“Not really,” I said.
“There are some feelings I don’t want to hide,” Ansel said, his voice soft as he pushed himself forward and rested his elbows on his knees. He released a puff of air as he interlaced his fingers and placed them in his lap. Contemplation crossed his face and then a flash of worry. I waited for him to speak because it seemed like something was on his mind, and I didn’t want to voice my guess as to what it was.
“Cheyenne, I--”
“Cheyenne Paulos?” a new voice interrupted.
I whirled around to see the daughter of Tené looming over me. Even though Artemis was the queen of the Amazons, this woman had the height and beauty of one of those warrior princesses. She wore golden jewelry that accented her white ensemble. Her dark skin gleamed even in the harsh fluorescent lights of the room. However, her eyes narrowed down at me as she crooked a finger and beckoned me forward.
Even though I had no trouble standing up to authority figures or sassing them directly, this woman intimidated the hell out of me. I chanced a nervous glance back at Ansel, whose own eyes were as wide as saucers. He nodded me onward, and I decided it was best to obey Tené.
She didn’t say a word as she led me out of the shared waiting space and down the med bay hall. I lost my way as we navigated through the building, going to parts I’d never gone to. Being a rather healthy individual, I hardly ever came here. Mostly I visited others here, whether or not I was allowed to was a different question.
We stopped in front of a door with a hazy glass pane in the center. In black lettering, the window read: Dr. Fiona, daughter of Hermes, Chief of Medicine. Tené rapped on the door with her knuckles, which was met with a click as the door unlocked. Tené pushed open the office door and gestured that I should enter first.
I did as I was told. It was a small office with a large oak desk in the center with two generic chairs across from it. The back wall behind the desk held a messy bookshelf with seemingly no organization to it. Papers were stacked high and haphazardly, where are books toppled over one another. There was a golden trophy with a shoe on it, with the iconic wings on the heel. An old computer, like one out of my elementary school computer lab, hung out on the corner, the screen dark.
The most impressive thing in the office was the Caduceus. It glimmered in the light of the room and hung on the wall, like a piece of artwork other than the weapon it was. It was more of a bludgeoning weapon with no blade, which is why I often didn’t make them or fancy them in my work. However, there was no denying the intricacy of this piece. The two snakes curved along the sides of the rod, ascending upwards to the top orb and outstretched wings, that made the weapon look like a capital T.
I wondered what it was doing here, considering it wasn’t the typical symbol for medicine. That was the Rod of Asclepius, Darren’s father. Still, Fiona was the daughter of Hermes, and the Caduceus was his accessory of choice, along with his winged shoes, so I supposed it made some sense in that regard.
The door slammed shut behind me, snapping my wandering eyes to attention. Tené walked around the desk and leaned forward on the flat oak surface, using her straight arms to brace herself. Suddenly, Fiona materialized in the chair beside her. Her fingers were long and clasped together, touching her lips in a contemplative posture.
“Cheyenne Paulos,” Tené said my name like it was a curse. “Why am I not surprised that it’s you?”
“That what’s me?” I asked, thoroughly confused.
“We got your results back from the initial blood test,” Fiona reported, her voice much softer than Tené’s accusing tone.
“Is that why you brought me here?” I asked. “Because I’m guessing not everyone gets the honor of hearing their results from the Chief of Medicine himself. And
Tené, of course,” I added, gesturing out to Tené, who didn’t look amused. I tucked my hands under my thighs and waited.
“Your results are different from anyone else’s on all of campus,” Fiona continued, answering my question in a backward manner.
My eyebrows shot up of their own accord. “They are?”
“Yes,” Tené answered with a scowl. “And they’re rather unusual.”
I kept my mouth shut, even though it was torture not to ask the obvious question hanging in the air.
“You don’t have a trace of the disease in you,” Fiona said, as though she were offering me a death sentence.
“I thought that would be a good thing?” My voice turned the statement into a question because Fiona’s manner was seriously throwing me off.
“We’ve found a trace of the disease in everyone on campus,” Fiona continued. “Even a small dose. Your blood is the only one to come up completely negative.”
“Which is why we brought you here,” Tené picked up the conversation. She sucked her teeth. “Because we want you to tell us why you did it.”
“Did what?” I wondered. Even though I was terrified, I already knew the answer.
“Why you released the virus in the first place.”
15
“Now hang on just a second,” I protested, my hands whipped out from under my thighs and raising in the air like I was at gunpoint. “I didn’t do anything of the sort. I wouldn’t even know how to do that.”
“Then why is every other student and guard alike infected except you?” Tené crossed her arms and looked at me expectantly.
“I don’t know,” I babbled, unable to come up with any semblance of an excuse. “Maybe Eros thought I was a heartless bitch who was incapable of love or something.”
“Really?” Tené raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow.
“What do you want me to say?” I defended, my annoyance apparent. “I have no idea why I’m immune. I literally don’t know. And I’m starting to feel like I was declared guilty even before I walked in here.”
