The cafeteria was still packed, and she made her way through it without even bothering to spare a glance for anyone. Sure, a few days ago she hadn’t wanted to be here, but this was still her school damn it! He had no right just barging in and risking exposing her and Micah.
She’d kept the whole ghost thing under wraps this far, and he could very easily destroy it.
“Spencer! Wait!” Quinn called after her, speeding to catch up and almost knocking over a freshman on his way to the trash. Once she reached Spence’s side she matched her pace. “What was that all about?”
“He just gets under my skin,” she said before she could help it. “He thinks he’s so cool just because—” she caught herself and cursed under her breath, “he’s rich.”
Being rich equated to power in their society, so it wasn’t a complete lie.
“He did seem a little snotty, though with a body like that, who can blame him?” She threw up her hands when she got a glare for that. “Ok, ok, sheesh. You do have to admit it though, Spence.”
“That he’s hot?” she violently shook her head, sending light brown hair flying around her face. “No way.”
“That’s not what I mean,” Quinn told her.
They’d reached her locker now and she spun the dial, practically tearing the door free once the lock clicked. She shoved her geometry text book in and tugged her biology book out. By the time she turned back to her friend, Quinn had a solemn look on her face.
“I haven’t seen you engage with anybody like that in a long time,” she continued in a soft tone, almost like she was afraid if she spoke louder she’d scare her away. “You actually raised your voice, Spence. You were heated.”
She flinched at that choice of wording. “So I got annoyed.”
“You got angry, and that’s a good thing. It means you’re finally starting to feel something again. Don’t let that pass by unnoticed. It’s a step, an accomplishment.”
She tried to laugh it off, but the sound came out harried and frazzled at best. “Q, I’ve always had feelings.”
“Yeah, before, but ever since Micah died you’ve been M.I.A., even when you’re standing right in front of me. I don’t know why you didn’t tell us you’d met someone—”
“It’s so not like that.”
“But,” she went on, “putting yourself out there might be just what you need to jump start your life again. Just promise you’ll think about it, ok?”
Quinn waved signaling the conversation was over just as the bell rang overhead. She turned and disappeared among the throngs of students now rushing out of their classrooms.
She hated that her friend was right. It was the same situation as when she’d realized in her bedroom hugging Syd that she missed the feeling. She used to love joining into a conversation and giving her two cents. Loved trying to one up someone in a playful banter.
Of course, nothing about Hadrian was playful. He was a threat, and she’d be wise to remember that the next time she saw him, which hopefully wouldn’t be until that night. There were still a few classes for him to show up in.
She just hated the way he looked at her, like because she was human she was somehow beneath him. Sure, he could crush her with probably a single thought, but still.
Even angrier now than she’d been before, Spencer slammed her locker shut, sending the harsh sound of metal grating against metal into the air. It wasn’t just because she knew she’d have to deal with him later. It was because Quinn had been right in more ways than one.
Her cheeks were still flushed, and there was an uncomfortable buzzing in the center of her chest which signified that she was ticked off and frustrated. She made her way down the hall with hurried strides, barely even thinking about where she was heading.
She couldn’t recall the last time she’d felt this…alive. She’d clearly underestimated just how shut down she’d allowed herself to become the past few months. Back then, a little conversation like that one outside would have been nothing, barely even a fly for her to swat at. But now…
Spencer had actually enjoyed her ranting with the Lord of the Underworld.
Chapter 8:
“You’re home early.”
Spencer’s dad paused in the doorway at the sound of her voice, backtracking so that he could smile at her. There were bags under his coffee colored eyes, and crinkles fanning out from the corners. His hairline had begun receding around the same time as Micah’s death, even though it had been his best friend’s kid and not his own.
He was still dressed in his light blue button up, though half of it was un-tucked and hanging limply over the side of his khakis. There was a briefcase in his right hand, a Christmas gift from her and her mom last year.
“Bad day?” she added, lifting the spoon to her mouth. She’d gotten home and had instantly begun chowing down on cereal.
Her dad stepped into the room, moving to sit in the seat at the round kitchen table that Micah had only been occupying a few moments ago.
He’d instantly disappeared when the front door had opened.
“It was a rough one, yeah.” Ethan Perry could only be classified as a workaholic. “There’s this young man in my class who likes to argue with everything I say. It’s exhausting trying to keep up, and keep everyone else focused on the topic at hand.”
“Does he at least make any good points?” she asked, dropping her now empty bowl into the sink and moving to grab a clean one for him. She filled it with cocoa puffs—his favorite—and set it down in front of him.
“Thanks, hun. Actually, he does which is the most frustrating part. If he would give his two cents in a nicer manor then I’d call him my best student. As it is, however, he’s rude. Half the time I can tell the only reason he’s even saying anything at all is to aggravate me.”
Mr. Perry was a mythology teacher at the university. Basically, he taught much more advanced classes than Mr. Kemmer did. He didn’t, however, focus on any one culture, so it wasn’t like he’d be a walking encyclopedia of knowledge on the Greeks and their beliefs, but it was worth a shot finding out what he did know.
“What’re you covering right now?” she tried to sound nonchalant. “Have you gotten to the Greeks yet?”
“No not yet,” he glanced at her between bites. “Why? Is that what you’re going over in your Myth and Folklore class at the moment?”
“We’re on the story of Persephone right now, but a few others have been mentioned that involve the Underworld. It piqued my curiosity.” The second she used that word she inwardly flinched.
She’d come to the distinct conclusion that he had without a doubt been directing that comment towards her. What interest had he taken in her? What could there be about her that he didn’t understand or know that made him so eager to figure it out?
“Really?” Excitement sparkled behind his eyes. “There are many myths about the Underworld.”
She saw the second he made the connection, a V forming between his brows the same second his mouth turned into a thin line. She braced herself before he even spoke.
“Honey, this isn’t about Micah, is it? Don’t get me wrong, learning about the different forms of the afterlife might actually be beneficial for you, but—”
“It’s not about him, dad,” she stopped him. It wasn’t entirely a lie; right now it was mostly about her and how she was the one who had to spend six months’ time there.
“Alright,” this smile was a little more forced. “Micah’s still out there, Spencer. He still exists; don’t ever forget that.”
“I know.”
He relaxed again, returning to his cereal as if they hadn’t just touched base on a touchy subject. For a while there, he’d insisted that she go see a grief counselor, he’d been so worried.
She’d gone for a couple weeks, but nothing her counselor ever said made her feel any better. For the most part, it had just made things worse because the one thing she really did need to talk about she most definitely could not in therapy. She could imagine a few thi
ngs her counselor would have done if she’d told him about Micah being a ghost, and none of them were good.
“So, what can I tell you?” he asked, breaking the silence and drawing her back to the present.
“Well there’s the story about Orpheus,” she leaned back against the counter and crossed her arms, “but I think I’ve got that one covered.”
Her situation was nothing like his, after all, aside from the wanting a loved one back and entering the Underworld in an attempt to retrieve them. Orpheus had been a musical prodigy, and had used his gift in order to convince everyone to let him pass further in.
“He played to Hades and Persephone on his lyre,” her dad said, “and it was so beautiful that they felt for him, agreeing to let him take his wife Eurydice back. The catch was that he had to lead her out of the Underworld without ever seeing her face. It was a test of faith, to prove that he held trust in the gods whom he’d asked this favor of. Sadly, he failed, looking back at her right before they were about to exit. She disappeared and he was left torn from her.
“Did you know,” he went on, “that Orpheus was the only one in Greek history who was able to even get that far?”
“What about Hercules?” she said. “I read that he was able to rescue people from the Underworld.”
“Yes, but not with the permission of Hades. Think about how it was back then, with everyone believing in the existence of the Underworld and the gods. I’m sure many tried to convince the Ruler of the Dead to release their loved ones, however Orpheus was the only successful one.”
Spencer frowned. She hadn’t heard that part of the story before. If it were true, and back then many people wanted what she herself did—what Orpheus had—and Hadrian had turned them down, then why had he agreed to make a deal with her?
“Hercules and Orpheus weren’t the only ones who made it down there. In fact, the hero Theseus, son of Poseidon, apparently tried to kidnap Persephone at one point. He, along with his best friend Pirithous, went down with the plan to take her so that Pirithous could marry her himself. Things didn’t go as planned and the two ended up being trapped down there, stuck to a rock. Hercules was actually the one who rescued Theseus.
“He was able to convince Hades to forgive Theseus by pointing out that it was Pirithous who really wanted to steal Persephone and that he was the one bold enough to covet the wife of a god.”
“Pirithous was left down there?” She recalled the darkness, the desolation. She would hate to be trapped in such a barren place. Then again, Hadrian had claimed there was no Persephone. That would mean that this myth had never happened.
Or maybe it just hadn’t happened the way everyone thought.
“Shows you not to mess with the God of the Underworld, huh?” Her dad stood, the sound of his chair scrapping against the tiles reverberating throughout the room. “Anyway, I have a stack of papers to grade by Friday so… If you have any questions don’t hesitate to ask. Oh, and don’t forget your mom has her late class today.”
She nodded, barely registering when he left. It was a lot of information to process.
“Would you have made the same choice if you’d known all that before?” Micah appeared next to the table. He was watching her with interest.
Spencer licked her lips and nodded. “Of course.” She didn’t want to admit that for a split second she’d been unsure. “Were you here the whole time?”
“I was around,” he shrugged. “Standing in the living room, you didn’t notice.”
There were two doors leading in and out of the kitchen. The one her dad had taken was attached to the hallway and across the room from her. The other was to her left and opened up onto the living room. The brown leather couch and recliner could be seen from where she stood.
She was about to apologize when he changed the subject.
“Doesn’t it seem kinda strange to you? That Hadrian just went along with your request? You weren’t even down there that long, and half of that you were just walking, right?”
“Maybe time moves differently down there?” she suggested. Knowing that he’d follow, she walked through the living room and towards the stairs. Her dad had gone into his office, so it was clear for them to continue their conversation as she went.
“Still, it’s weird that he was at your school,” Micah said. “I love you for doing this for me, but think about it, daisy. There’s nothing special about me. Why would the God of the Underworld want to help me out? He wouldn’t. Which means there’s got to be another agenda here.”
She laughed and sent him a look over her shoulder as they stepped into her room. “There’s nothing special about me either. Neither of us could have anything he wants.”
“You can’t honestly tell me you don’t think there’s something going on here?”
“No, obviously I agree with you on that. I just don’t think it has anything to do with us, that’s all. Maybe he’s bored? I mean, not many people believe in the Underworld anymore, so I doubt he’s overrun with mortal visitors.”
“I just don’t want you getting hurt,” he led her to the bed, sitting them both down on the end. “This whole thing is crazy and I feel bad for not stopping you from the get-go.”
“It was my choice,” she reminded him. “It sucks for you, Micah, but it sucks for me too. I want you back, and I’ll do anything I have to do to make that happen. If it means I have to play along with Hadrian’s games, then I will. You’re all that matters,” she cupped his cheek, glad that he’d solidified so that she could.
“I feel selfish for making you stay cooped up in this room all summer,” he whispered, bending so that their foreheads were pressed together. “Ferris, despite being a total prick, was right. I died, you didn’t. You shouldn’t spend all of your time in here, but…”
“You don’t want to disappear.” She nodded in understanding. It must be terrifying to just stop existing momentarily, to not know what happened to you or where you went. Her throat closed up at the thought of how scared he must be every time she had to walk out that door. “You never make me stay, Micah. I want to be here with you. I want to be wherever you are.”
“Is it wrong of me to be happy about that?” he grinned in that boyish way that always reminded her of sunlight and summer. “When you’re here, I’m here. I don’t like going away.”
“Speaking of,” Ferris’s sudden voice caused them both to jump back. He waved sarcastically when they were facing him. “Sorry to interrupt.”
“Yeah,” Micah grated, moving to a stand, “right.”
“Ouch,” Ferris said back. “Derision from the ghost boy. I’m wounded.”
“What are you doing here?” Spencer asked, following Micah’s move and getting to her feet.
She was a little embarrassed that the Ferryman had walked in on their private moment. She was still getting used to the idea that someone else could see him again. If it had been anyone else, they would have just seen her sitting on the bed gazing intently at the wall across the room.
“Um, hello?” he scoffed. “How else did you think you were going to get to the Underworld? Magic pixie dust? Magic carpet? Magic…I’m actually out of magical stuff that can carry you, but you get the point.”
“Magic beans,” Micah said, then grimaced when she glared at him. “Sorry. You know how I get with word games.”
“That was more a phrase, or an item,” Ferris told him, “but good call.”
“It’s not even dark out yet.” She pointed towards the window where the still very blue sky could be seen. The clock on her nightstand read four-thirty.
“You have to be there for twelve hours,” the Ferryman explained. “That’s half the day. Hadrian wasn’t sure what time you got up to get ready for school, so he decided to up the times table a little just in case. Any changes necessary should be taken up with him, not me.”
“You being just the messenger and all,” Micah said.
“Watch it, ghost.” There was the barest hint of a smile on Ferris’s face.
> Were the two of them…getting along?
Usually if her parents were home in time they tried to have dinner as a family around six, but this semester they’d both signed up for late classes and were rarely home anymore. The fact that her dad had made it this once was amazing.
She wouldn’t be expected downstairs the rest of the night, and her mom wasn’t coming home until long after dark but…
“What if my dad comes up to ask me something?”
“He’ll see you lying on your bed and think you’re asleep,” Ferris told her. “Simple, right? So, why don’t you go on and lie down so we can get this thing over with.”
She hesitated.
“Will Micah be able to stay here because my body is still technically here?” she asked.
A flash of fear dashed through Micah’s eyes, but a second later he’d schooled his features, and was once again standing tall. He obviously didn’t want to appear weak in front of the Ferryman. She couldn’t blame him.
“Yes,” Ferris said. “Now come on. I swear, between the two of you doing my job has become like pulling teeth.”
Spencer moved to the other side of the bed, lying on her back. She didn’t know what to do with her hands so she rested them over her stomach.
“Should I look more like I’m sleeping?”
He’d moved up to her side and shook his head in response. The smoke had already begun to snake around him, and when he reached out his hand, she could see it twisting about his palm.
When he touched her shoulder, she twisted her head towards Micah, noting the worry on his face a split second before everything went black like before.
This time it wasn’t as bad because she knew what to expect. The tightness around her body didn’t seem so restraining and she kept her eyes closed. She wasn’t actually calm, but at least she could try and project it.
Her feet touched ground and the sudden switch from vertical to horizontal had her stumbling a little. A heavy hand landed on her arm to steady her, and she slowly blinked open her eyes, turning to give Ferris an appreciative look.
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