by S. L. Stacy
“Liz isn’t answering her phone. They’re letting us turn it in last minute, but I need you to help me fill out and sign the forms,” Victoria tells me.
“Of course.” I pluck the packet from her hand and settle down at the kitchen table, uncapping a pen as I skim the front page. “Organization,” I read out loud, scribbling Gamma Lambda Phi on the corresponding line. “Name of venue…number attending…event ID number. What the heck is that?”
Victoria comes up behind me and leans over my shoulder, reading silently. “Don’t worry about it. I think that’s something Panhel assigns.”
I skip over it and go to the next line. I can still sense Victoria’s head floating next to mine. “You’re in my bubble, Big.”
“I’m not trying to make out with you,” she jokes lightly, standing up straight. A frown flickers at the corners of her mouth as she walks around the side of the table. “If you don’t need me for this, I’ll go help Carly load her car.”
I flip through the rest of the pages. “I think I’m good. Thanks,” I say as I write down the name of the vendor. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Victoria hesitate before turning around and calling her roommate’s name on the way upstairs.
I fill out the rest of the forms to the tune of the front door squeaking open and close as Carly and Victoria go back and forth carrying boxes of streamers, balloons, table cloths and foil centerpieces out to the car. Once I’ve finished, I have to wait over an hour for Panhel’s risk manager to get out of class so she can meet me to sign off on them. This leaves me with probably the only chance I’ll have to get ready, so I shower, slip into my strapless red cocktail dress, and curl my hair. Panhel approves the forms later that afternoon, and Carly and I head over to the Riverfront Bar and Grill to put the final touches on the room.
“We’re almost there,” Carly announces, switching her foot to the accelerator and rolling through the green light onto the Beaumont Bridge. The twenty minute drive feels like it’s taking an hour. “Stop it, Thumper.”
I tear my gaze away from the window, where I’ve been watching the pewter waters of the Ohio River rush endlessly underneath the bridge. “Stop what?”
“That.” She points to my left leg, which is bouncing so furiously you’d think I was on my way to take the MCATs. I place a firm hand on my thigh to stop it.
As we pull up, I see Tanya and the other committee members sitting outside the restaurant. She and four other girls are crammed on an iron bench. A fall of blonde hair hides Tanya’s face as her fingers fly over the keypad of her phone. Propped against the bench beside her is the banner we put up every year, rolled up into a snug white tube. The rest of the girls are sitting on the sidewalk, surrounded by boxes brimming with red and black crepe paper and deflated balloons. Bubbling voices and laughter float through the open car window. I get out before Carly even has the chance to turn the car off.
“What the heck have you been doing here this whole time?” I explode as I stalk up to them. “You haven’t put a damn thing up!” I peer over at Tanya’s phone screen, which is lit up with rows of jewel-colored digital candies. “Are you playing ‘Sugar Rush?!’”
Carly winces at my strident tone. “I’m pretty sure only dogs could hear that.”
“Maybe these are signs.” I shake my head slowly, in bewilderment. “Maybe we should just cancel the dance.”
“I see someone’s wearing their crazy social chair hat,” Tanya says. “We have plenty of time, so we thought we’d just wait for you to get back and tell us what to do. Oops,” she adds when she notices the time on her phone. She stands up and claps her hands. “Let’s go, ladies! Grab a box and head inside!” Recovering from my daze, I pick up the banner and follow the others through the side door leading directly to the formal dining room.
“Where should we put this?” I wonder, softening my voice and looking around. The entire back wall is really one long window with a tranquil view of the river. The dark wood of the other three walls and decorative rafters zigzagging across the ceiling give the dining room an elegantly rustic feel. Double doors connect it to the casual part of the Riverfront. Beyond them I hear the buzz of voices and clatter of dishes and pans.
“Up there,” Carly suggests, pointing to the rectangle of wall above the doors.
“We don’t have a ladder.”
“We can pop you up there!” Tanya squats down and cups her hands side-by-side, palms up. “Let’s go Gamma Lambda Phi!” she cheers in a clipped voice. “Woo!”
“Great idea!” I take off my red suede platform wedges, placing my right foot in her hands and bracing myself on her shoulder. “Get over here, Carly.”
Carly’s baby blue eyes bounce from Tanya’s outstretched hands, to me, to the wall. Her curls jostle like a mass of dark gold springs as she shakes her head. “It’s not a great idea. It’s a very, very bad idea. I know you’re super tiny, but I have absolutely no upper arm strength.”
“You can do it!” Tanya insists.
“I trust you,” I assure her. “I can balance myself. Just make sure you get a good grip on me.” Carly meets my eyes, her lips parted in uncertainty. After another moment of hesitation, she walks over and mimics Tanya’s stance.
“We bounce together, on three,” Tanya instructs. “Down on three, up on four. Ready?” Carly gives a stiff nod. “One, two, three, four!” On four I place my other foot into Carly’s waiting hands. She and Tanya steady their grips while I carefully straighten my back. I reach up, my fingers brushing the thin gap between the top of the doors and the wall.
“I need to be higher,” I tell them.
“Full extension!” Tanya exclaims. “This takes me back.”
“Are you okay, Carly?”
“Y-yes,” Carly’s voice quivers from below.
“On three, we’re going to bounce, then straighten our arms out completely as we push Siobhan’s feet above our heads.” Tanya counts again. My left leg wobbles a bit as they lift me further into the air, but I keep my back ramrod straight. Fixing my eyes to the wall in front of me helps me maintain balance.
I snap my fingers twice and hold out my hand. “I need the banner. And some tape.”
Tanya whistles for attention. “Hey! Siobhan needs the banner and tape!” I hear the frantic shuffle of feet. A pair of hands thrusts the banner and reel of masking tape into mine. Iridescent glitter showers the floor as I unfurl the sign, which shouts “Find Your Sister a Mister!” in bold shimmering letters. Letting one end hang, I curl pieces of tape on the back of the other and stick it to the wall. I smooth out crinkles in the paper as Tanya and Carly inch me along to the other side. Every once in a while Carly’s arms waver, but she keeps them locked.
“Done,” I call down. “See? That wasn’t so bad.”
“We’re going to bring her back down to a half extension,” explains Tanya. While she slowly but steadily lowers her arms, Carly’s elbows sag, and I feel myself stumble in that direction. I throw my arms out as I struggle to regain balance, but my foot has already slipped out of her hands.
“Siobhan!” Tanya screams.
As I plummet backwards, my life flashes before my eyes in fragmented scenes: Anna’s long brown hair swinging in front of me as we run out onto the football field to do a routine. Jasper sprawled on the ground, skin glistening with sweat, reaching out to me with one pale, weak hand. Jimmy’s hunched shoulders walking away from our lunch table as he throws one final infuriated look my way. Watching the ground zoom up closer and closer as I tumble out of the tree in my parents’ backyard. Clasping Tanya’s and Carly’s hands as we form a circle around the living room, Victoria’s clear voice reciting passages from our ritual book. Spiraling into Jasper’s hypnotic blue eyes as he cups my chin in his hand, bringing his face down to kiss me.
Chapter 23
Two solid arms catch my back before it can hit the floor.
Another pair of hands grabs my left leg, leaving the other dangling freely in the air. There’s a sickening crack as my ankle smacks the wood
floorboards. My ears ring with shrill screams and the stampede of footsteps across the floor.
“Siobhan!” Tanya’s voice is close to my head, her arms resting on the floor while she cradles my back. My eyes flutter in her direction. Shock fogs up my brain, making everything feel slow-motion and hazy. Through slits I see my ankle is twisted at a nauseating, impossible angle. When I try to move it ever so slightly, white hot pain slithers up my leg. I scrunch up my face, shouting a series of imaginative expletives.
“Oh, my God, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Carly blubbers. Her fingers still clasp my other leg.
“I’ll call nine-one-one,” someone else says. The voices of my sisters are dream-like and faraway. After the burning pain, something cold and sharp explodes in my lower back, making me call out again. I feel desperate hands seize my arms and worried voices, but I can’t understand them above the icy sensation spreading up through my back and neck and down through my legs. By the time it’s reached my hands and feet, the sensation has changed to pleasantly warm and tingly. When it dissipates completely, so does the pain. I clench my teeth in apprehension as I give my ankle a test roll, but the hideous break is gone, the bone mended. I get swiftly to my feet.
“You’re—you’re okay?” Carly asks uncertainly.
“I’m fine. I…” My eyes roam from her, to Tanya, to the rest of the faces staring at me in quiet astonishment. No one could have missed the sickening position my ankle was in only seconds ago, but it’s shifted back into place, and now I can stand and walk on it easily.
“Jasper.” My lips whisper his name before the thought is fully formed.
“What?” Tanya asks.
There’s a fruit on our world whose nectar contains a special compound. Its effects are most potent if you consume it…
“Nothing,” I tell her while another rapid series of memories bombards me. I lean down to take a whiff of the glass ambrosia bottle, my nostrils filling with a delicious sweet scent reminding me of honey. It smells how the champagne at Willow Park tasted—and the glass of milk at his apartment. Lactose intolerant, my ass; it was probably regular milk. He’s been dosing me with ambrosia, trying to complete my transition, to make me as fully Olympian as possible. My wings didn’t just seem stronger that night after dinner; they were stronger. Now my body can heal itself, just like Jimmy’s.
“Let’s finish up here.”
Carly gapes at me. “Are you sure?”
I nod resolutely. “And then there’s something I have to do.”
***
Carly drops me off behind Frasier Hall. “Do you want me to wait for you?” I shake my head. “We’re supposed to be at the house right now,” she reminds me.
“I just don’t know how long this is going to take. Look,” I plead as she gives a huge sigh, “there’s something I really have to do. I’ll explain everything later. Please trust me. If I miss the shuttle I’ll call a cab.”
“You know we’re not supposed—”
“I know. Don’t worry about me.” I open the car door but pause with one leg out of it. “Thanks for covering for me.”
“Of course. I’m so, so sorry—”
“It’s not your fault,” I reassure her for the millionth time before getting out and shutting the door.
Upstairs, the door to Jasper’s office is closed, but I hear eager voices on the other side. I knock. The chatter fades, but no one comes to open the door. When they still don’t answer after the second knock, I try the door knob. It’s unlocked.
“Oh, look. Princess Siobhan is here,” a familiar voice says. Liz perches on the corner of Jasper’s desk, casting me a withering glare as I walk in. She’s wearing her gold sequined top with the plunging back—the one she usually wears when we go dancing—to make room for the pair of broad, dove-like white wings sprouting from her back.
“I remember you.” I turn my head toward this second voice, which belongs to a girl with milky skin, long, thick obsidian hair, and feline green eyes. The stench of blood and roses invades my nostrils. “You’re the one our Eros is so fond of.” I flinch when she takes a few locks of my hair and runs them through her fingers, then flicks them away, wiping her hand on her black leather pants and wrinkling her nose. “I don’t get it.”
“Apate,” Jasper snaps from the doorway. Apate thrusts her chin defiantly in his direction. Her pale fingers fiddle with something at her neck. The fluorescent lights bounce off the gold shield, set with two garnets and one black opal, dangling from a delicate chain—the Sigma Iota badge in pendant form.
“Tonight’s going to be so much fun,” she giggles to me before turning and slinking away. She throws herself in a chair, kicking her legs up on Jasper’s wood desk.
Jasper comes the rest of the way inside and closes the door. He pecks me on the cheek but keeps a wary eye on his gang. “What are you doing here?” he whispers in my ear.
“We need to talk.” I pull away from him, catching a glint like orange flame out of the corner of my eye: Sam’s carrot red hair. He’s standing against the back wall next to Genie. Panic twists itself into a knot in my stomach. Even though the Sigma Iotas seem to wear suits every day, for almost every occasion, Sam has on an uncharacteristic pair of dark blue jeans and SI letters. He obviously doesn’t have any plans to go to our dance anytime soon. How could he stand Victoria up like this?
“Can it please wait?” Jasper asks me, his voice still low.
“No!” I shout as loudly as possible.
For a moment Jasper looks like he’s going to argue with me, but then he sighs and addresses his minions instead. “You have your orders. Does anyone have any lingering questions?” Fifteen heads shake “no.”
“Wonderful. Then this meeting is over. Apate is in charge tonight.” Apate straightens up and beams in response to Jasper’s announcement. “Listen to her.”
“Yes, Master.” The speaker walks up to Jasper and gives his hand a brief but firm shake on his way out the door. It’s the linebacker from The End.
We only end up causing upheaval…I clutch my stomach, the knot tightening, congealing into a lead pit. Bile rises in the back of my throat, and I think I’m going to be sick. Every time something falls apart, Jasper lurks in the background, tuning and tugging strings like a puppeteer. The encounter in the woods ended my friendship with Jimmy and Anna—ended it in the worst possible way, with us hating each other. Liz attacked me in a jealous rage because she thought he wanted her. I get caught snooping through Farrah’s stuff only because I overheard what he told Liz, and I wanted to get to the stones before she did. And now even my second falling out with Jimmy is because of Jasper.
“You’ve activated all of these people,” I blurt as I watch the minions file out of the room, one by one. I instantly regret it—maybe I shouldn’t let on just how much his mother has told me—but it’s not Jasper who answers me.
“He’s given us his gift.” Liz says it almost with a hiss. Her expression dares me to challenge her assertion. “It’s wonderful, isn’t it? Who would have thought that this all really meant something? That the gods are real?” She brushes the back of her hand along his jawline then plants a goodbye kiss on his cheek. Her lips linger there before she withdraws and leaves the room. I feel a pang of jealousy, which I inwardly scold myself for, but it must show on my face because a pleased expression crosses Jasper’s face.
“Don’t be jealous. You’re the love of my life.”
His words jolt me back to the reason I came here in the first place.
“Jasper, I need to ask you something. And I need you to be honest with me.”
He purses his lips but nods, going to close the door.
“Have you been…dosing me with ambrosia?”
A short, nervous laugh escapes his lips. “Well, when you say it like that—”
“How else should I say it?” I cross my arms in front of my chest. “You’ve been slipping it to me without my consent.”
“It’s only because I…” His excuse falters. He puts his h
ead in his hand and turns away from me.
“Because you knew I wouldn’t take it otherwise!” I finish for him.
He whirls to face me again, his eyes dark with disbelief. “Because I love you!” he counters, cupping my face on either side with his hands. I gape at him, but I’m too stunned to shrink out of his grasp, to speak. “What, you don’t believe me?”
“I believe you. I just can’t believe you think that’s a valid reason to roofie me.”
He drops his hands to his sides. “Stop saying things like that!”
I open my mouth to shout at him again, but hesitate as the question Farrah posed to me in my dream floats into my mind: Isn’t it strange how the very thing that keeps us beautiful, keeps us strong and invincible, is the very thing that can be our undoing? I see a bronze goblet rolling back and forth on the floor, red wine staining the white marble.
“You could have poisoned me. Killed me. That’s how Farrah did it, didn’t she?”
My voice was so low I wonder if Jasper even heard me. Finally, he says softly, “You were never in any danger. I would never do anything to put you in harm’s way. You have to know that. You’re right—that is how my mother did it. At large doses, ambrosia is one of the few things that can kill us. But in smaller amounts, taken every day…it’s a wondrous substance. I guess our universe has a pretty twisted sense of humor like that.
“I was only making you better. Stronger. Bringing out more of the Olympian in you.” Suddenly he’s reaching for me again, tipping my face up to his, his eyes burning into me with intense yearning. No man’s ever looked at me the way he does. Not Max. Not even Jimmy. “Getting my wife back.”
My face flushes. Heat blossoms in my abdomen, but I manage to croak, “Leaving me without a choice. What if this isn’t what I want?”
Jasper pulls back as though I’ve physically struck him. “You don’t want me?” Like blowing out a candle, my words have snuffed out the desperate desire shining in his eyes.
“I—I didn’t mean that…” I trail off and close my eyes to gather my thoughts. After a deep breath, I open them again and continue, “You say you love me, but this isn’t love. You don’t manipulate the person you love. You don’t lie to them; you don’t keep secrets from them.”
