“Daaaaaaaad!” I screamed at the top of my voice. He was in my room in an instant.
“Helen, please use your indoor voice. You’re not in the playground now,” he said. Then he looked up at my hair, and his eyebrows nearly shot off his face. “I don’t think that’s, um, suitable for school, Helen.” If my hair shocked Dad, then it must have looked bad. I mean, he’s seen it all. Literally.
“Then get her,” I yelled, pointing upstairs to where Aphrodite had disappeared, “to change it back!”
“I may be able to help, darling,” Dad said. His hand reached tentatively to stroke the top of my head. “Right. It really is rather spiky—”
“Dad! Not helping!” I said through gritted teeth.
“Sorry! I’ll try to bring it back. Helen, remind me. You had curly brown hair that sort of did … this,” he said, waving his hands in an imaginary halo around my head.
He was absolutely useless. “Just get HER to fix it!”
“Aphrodite, come down here, please. You know the rules about using your powers outside of Mount Olympus,” he said. Like she had taken the last chip off my plate, and not given me the hair of a tropical bird.
“Helen was curious about my powers, so I gave her a little taste. It was a bit of fun, Father,” she said. Aphrodite clicked her fingers once again.
I rushed to the mirror and patted my head. Finally! My hair was back to normal. I breathed a deep sigh of relief. I’d never been so happy to see my ordinary frizzy curls. I even ran my fingers through it, just to make sure it was all there.
I slammed my bedroom door shut. “How is this my life?” I muttered under my breath.
Would I have to deal with this all the time? Having a super gorgeous, self-absorbed big sister was bad enough. But Aphrodite could turn me into a neon-green toilet brush with a click of her fingers!
This whole immortal-family-with-powers thing?
It wasn’t going to be an easy ride.
TWO
I came out of the shower as a delicious smell wafted up the stairs from the kitchen. I wandered towards the stairs in my dressing gown and heard Dad’s voice downstairs. And the voice of a woman I didn’t recognize. Please tell me I don’t have any other surprise half-sisters moving in? Aphrodite is enough for a lifetime.
Dad opened the kitchen door. “Come down for dinner, Helen. There’s someone I’d like you to meet,” he said.
I walked down the stairs and into the warm kitchen, rich with the smell of onion and herbs. It was the first time I’d seen anyone using the kitchen since we moved in, apart from boiling the kettle and Aphrodite blitzing her green smoothies.
A small woman with silver-streaked brown hair stood at the kitchen sink, draining cooked spaghetti in a colander. When she turned around, I noticed she looked older than Dad. Unlikely to be one of his children, then, but you could never tell with the gods. They can do what they like with their appearance, after all.
“You must be Helen! I’ve heard so much about you,” the woman said, and bundled me into her arms for a hug. Even though her head only reached my neck, she had quite the grip on me. Her warmth and smile reminded me of Grandma Thomas.
“Helen, this is Maria. She’s going to be our housekeeper, taking care of things while I’m at work,” Dad said.
“That means you,” Maria said, letting me go finally. “It’s vital that you have another half-mortal in the house. Someone you can talk to.”
“Um, are you my sister too?” I asked.
Maria laughed. “Not quite. I’m a child of your Aunty Demeter, so I suppose that makes us cousins. I’ll take you through my family tree over a cup of tea, one day. But now it’s time to eat.”
I began to lay the table for three, but Dad stopped me. “I won’t be eating tonight, Helen. I rarely do,” he said. “But I’ll stay with you over dinner. We need to have a chat.”
I sat down at the table while Maria plated up the food and cleared the kitchen.
“I see that Aphrodite introduced herself,” Dad began.
“Yeah.” The less said about that, the better. “What’s a half-lifer?” I asked.
Maria gasped like I’d said a terrible word. Dad clenched his jaw, and I swear that his eyes flashed yellow for a split second.
I broke the silence. “It’s something that Aphrodite mentioned a couple of times. Is it bad?”
Dad sighed. “It’s a term that ignorant immortals sometimes use to describe half-mortals. I’ll have a word with Aphrodite about that.”
Even my half-sister needed a separate word to describe what I was – that’s how big of a gulf there was between us. We were already knocking this whole sister thing out of the park.
“Anyway. I imagine you have many questions. But before you ask them, I want to—”
“Let me guess. Lay down some ground rules?” I said.
“Well, yes, Helen. I’m afraid I do have some rules. But they are less to do with your curfew, and more to do with the somewhat, ahem, unique issues our family face,” he said. “You’ve already been told this, but I can’t stress it enough – it is absolutely vital to keep our true identity hidden from all mortals.”
Boy, I didn’t realize how good I had it with Grandma Thomas. Her only rules were not to wear shoes in the house or leave an empty plate.
“I’m obvs not going to tell anyone that you’re a god and I’m half-mortal, Dad, it sounds totally ridiculous,” I said between mouthfuls of spaghetti. “Everyone in this new school would think I’m a compulsive liar.”
“That’s good to know. But you need to understand this rule isn’t in place to prevent embarrassment. It’s a binding contract, one that all immortal beings enter into when they leave Mount Olympus. It’s a condition of living here on earth.”
Dad propped both his elbows on the table. “As you know, I am the head of the gods. But there are beings more powerful than me in Mount Olympus, and we must abide by their rules. It’s for the good of all involved … though not everyone in this family agrees.”
Hmm, I wonder who that could be? Something told me that Aphrodite and rules don’t mix.
“More powerful than gods?” I asked.
Dad nodded. “That’s correct, Helen. We are under the jurisdiction of the Mount Olympus Council. The Council is composed of twelve Mount Olympus residents. They’re not gods, but they are immortal. Sort of like an impartial panel. They’re the ones who decide which gods can live on earth and enforce the rules about living here.”
A council? That’s something my childhood books about Greek mythology left out. I guess it’s way less exciting than one-eyed giants and winged horses.
“What sort of rules?” I asked. And did destroying my hair count as breaking them, I wanted to add.
“Quite simply, if we immortal beings want to live amongst mortals, then we must ensure they don’t ever find out about our powers or our heritage. And we are never to use our powers to meddle in their lives,” Dad continued.
“But Mum knew that you were a god, right?” I asked, confused.
Dad nodded. “As you know, darling, Sharon didn’t want you to know until you were older.”
I put down my fork. The spaghetti and sauce had congealed on my plate. Talking about Mum always ruined my appetite, no matter how hungry I was.
“But Mum was a mortal. How come you were allowed to tell her about your powers and stuff?” I asked.
“The Council will sometimes make exceptions, usually when there’s a child involved,” Dad said. “But they don’t make it easy. You wouldn’t believe the paperwork I had to fill out, tribunals I had to attend… And even then, it’s at the Council’s discretion. The most powerful member of the Council, Cranus—”
Maria’s snort interrupted him. “Don’t mention that man’s name in front of me!”
“Cranus,” Dad continued, ignoring Maria’s outburst, “is not exactly a friend of our family. But, unfortunately, he does hold a great deal of influence within the Council. If he caught so much as a whiff of rule-breaking
, he could make life on earth very complicated for us. He’s somewhat difficult.”
“Difficult? If he had his way, Helen’s mother would never have known the truth!” Maria said.
Something wasn’t adding up. “Dad, I don’t get it. You’re the head of the gods. Can’t you do what you like?” I asked.
Dad laughed, being all irritating and patronizing. “History has proven that giving the gods unlimited power doesn’t always work out too well. The Council aren’t perfect, but they’re necessary to keep us gods in check. Can you imagine if Aphrodite got her way all the time?”
So she could conduct more traumatizing experiments on my hair? Hours later, I was still touching my scalp every two seconds.
“Anyhow,” Dad continued, “provided we abide by the rules, we have nothing to worry about. Not from Cranus or anyone else on the Council.”
“What would happen if you did break the rules? Like, by turning someone’s hair green, for example.”
“You mean if we break the rules, Helen? I must stress that you’re also bound by this law. Anyway, it would take more than a botched hairstyle to attract the Council’s attention,” Dad said. “But if we did use our powers to set off World War Three, for example, there would be a trial at Mount Olympus.”
My eyes widened. World War Three? Did the gods have that sort of power?
“And?”
“And if we were found guilty … well, that would depend on the seriousness of the crime. It could range from a short banishment in Mount Olympus to being stripped of our immortality status. Frankly, that would be fatal.”
Whoa. The Council weren’t messing around.
“Then why not live in Mount Olympus and use your powers there?” I was asking a lot of questions, but I didn’t get it. Living on earth seemed like such a huge risk.
Dad smiled. “Because when you’ve spent an eternity in paradise, even that becomes dull. Some of the gods are content with their life there, but I craved new challenges. Mortals are fascinating, and I’d much rather be here than having my every whim catered to in a cloud palace.”
Cloud palace! Mount Olympus was sounding way cooler than drizzly North London.
Dad noticed the look of wonder on my face. “It’s truly not as exciting as it sounds, Helen. Perhaps you will get to see it one day and you’ll understand.”
“Oh, they will adore you there,” Maria said as she loaded up the dishwasher. “A new child of Zeus is practically a celebrity.”
As awesome as a cloud palace would be, imagine being completely surrounded by immortals who look like Aphrodite? I’d feel like a toad.
“It’s a lot to take in, Helen. And I’m sorry to tell you this before your first day at a new school. But it’s important that you understand what’s at stake,” Dad said.
“I get it, Dad. Seriously, I’m not about to start telling my new friends that you and Aphrodite are gods.”
If I made any new friends.
“I’m glad you grasp the importance of keeping our heritage secret,” Dad said. “But to be doubly sure, I’m afraid that any friends you make are forbidden from entering the house. This must be a mortal-free zone.”
“Um, what? Isn’t that a bit extreme?” Did this family want me to stay a friendless loser? First Aphrodite transformed me into a troll doll, and now Dad was banning me from having anyone over. EVER.
That meant no friends over for sleepovers or tanning in the garden or exam revision sessions (by which I mean Netflix binges). How was I going to explain that to any new friends without sounding like a complete weirdo? Telling the truth wouldn’t be an option. I ran through potential excuses in my head. Sorry, friends-to-be, you can’t come over this weekend. My house has a leaky roof/rare spider infestation/visiting poltergeist. Maybe another time?
They were making it impossible for me to be normal.
“Helen, I know it isn’t ideal. But we can’t risk a mortal discovering the truth.”
I nodded. Deep down, I knew he was right. The only thing worse than not inviting friends over? Them coming round and seeing Aphrodite stroll through the house completely naked.
“Now, you’d better get ready for bed,” Dad said. “You’ve had a long day, and I want to make sure you’re refreshed for your first day at school.”
Bed before eight p.m.? Had he ever met a teenager? “Dad, I’m not ten years old any more. I won’t go to sleep for hours yet.”
“I know you won’t, especially not with all the distractions you have on your phone. So much time wasted. That’s why I’ve confiscated it for the evening,” he said.
He did WHAT?
“That’s impossible. My phone’s been in my pocket this whole time.” I patted my jeans pocket. It was empty.
I leapt off my chair and checked under the table, but Dad was right. At some point during our conversation, he had nicked my phone. SERIOUSLY?
“Why would you do that? Are you punishing me for something?” I asked, trying to stay calm.
“Punishing?” Dad looked confused and it was infuriating. “I’m not punishing you, Helen. This is for your own good. Many studies have shown that overnight exposure to mobile devices result in a poor night’s sleep, and—”
“Dad, this is unbelievably unfair,” I interrupted. “I need my phone alarm to wake me up, for a start.” More importantly, I wanted to chat with my friends back home. I needed to stay in touch, otherwise they’d forget me.
“Don’t worry, Helen; you will have your phone by seven a.m. tomorrow morning. I’m sure you can manage a mere twelve hours without it,” he said, getting up from the table. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a lecture to prepare.”
“But we need to discuss this, Dad. It isn’t fair!”
I bit my tongue, holding back the sort of language that he would be shocked I knew.
Dad turned around. This time he didn’t look so calm. Oh god. What if he could hear my thoughts? If he heard the names I wanted to call him, a confiscated phone was the least of my problems.
“Helen. I have seen many fair and unfair things in my time: miscarriages of justice, grinding poverty, millions of deaths caused by thousands of wars. Believe me when I say that this isn’t one of them.”
I stomped my way upstairs, slamming my bedroom door behind me. I didn’t care what he said, Dad had no right to take my stuff. And this wasn’t even a punishment. Imagine what he’d do if I broke curfew or failed an exam?
To think that just a few hours earlier, my biggest problem was making sure I had someone to sit with at lunch on Monday. Now I had to make sure I stayed on the right side of Dad and Aphrodite. Otherwise, I’d end up a socially isolated loser. With green hair.
Could my life just end now, please?
THREE
I always thought it was strange when people described their palms as sweaty. But here I was, about to take a step into my new classroom, and my palms were sticky and gross. I caught my reflection in the glass doors. My cheeks looked as burning red as they felt.
The last time I felt this nervous was the morning of my drama summer school play (we did Bugsy Malone, and I nearly threw up over my sequinned costume). But this time, I didn’t have to dance the Charleston on stage. All I had to do was walk into the class and take a seat.
I took a deep breath and pushed open the door. Two dozen pairs of eyes stared back at me in silence. Including the teacher.
“Miss Bloom?” I asked.
“Yes. Can I help?”
“Umm. It’s my first day. And I’m meant to be in Double English?”
Miss Bloom pulled a face. The same one that Grandma Thomas makes when she realizes she’s forgotten the milk. “Ah, yes.”
She motioned for me to come in, her wooden bangles rattling, and said the dreaded words: “Introduce yourself!”
My tummy flipped into somersaults. Severing my little toe sounded more appealing. I willed my mouth into action, but my tongue seemed glued down.
“Now is not the time to be shy. Can you tell the class a bit
about you?” Miss Bloom prompted. I swear someone sniggered at the back of the classroom.
What could I say? Say something, Helen!
Hi, everyone, my name is Helen Thomas and I’m half-immortal. I’ve just moved back to London with my dad, who happens to be the ruler of the gods, and my big sis Aphrodite, who is so flawlessly beautiful she would make Kendall Jenner sick with jealousy.
That certainly wasn’t an option, even if it was the truth.
I took a deep breath.
“So I just moved to London with my dad,” I said quickly. Public speaking was never my strong point. “From Derby? Where I lived? With my gran?”
Miss Bloom blinked. “Marvellous. And your name?”
“It’s Helen,” I mumbled.
“Thank you, Helen. Sit where there’s room and I’ll bring you up to speed in two ticks.”
Miss Bloom carried on taking the register while I scanned the room. I clapped my eyes on a spare seat near the back, on a table with three other girls. I walked towards it and sat down at the table while everyone in the room stared.
“Your eyeshadow is fierce!” the girl with black hair and light brown skin whispered to me. “I’m Noor, by the way.”
I smiled back, happy that I took the time to put on the blue eyeshadow Aphrodite left me last night. Still, I wasn’t about to tell her that when I got home. I wasn’t through being mad at her.
“I’m Daphne,” said the blonde girl with the polka-dot pencil case and round-cheeked face. “And this is Yasmin,” she said, nodding to the black girl with long braids skimming her back. She was scribbling furiously in her notebook.
Noor, Daphne, Yasmin. I memorized their names to myself.
“Yas doesn’t like to talk during lessons because it distracts from her plan for world domination,” Daphne said, smirking.
Yasmin looked up from her notes, and pushed her black-rimmed glasses up her nose. “There’s nothing wrong with having high expectations, Daphs.”
“So what’s the set text here?” I asked.
Yasmin closed her notebook, the cover of which said You Have as Many Hours in a Day as Beyoncé (Dad would never buy me stationery that cool). “Frankenstein, but you don’t need to worry about that in this class,” she said. “Miss likes to think she’s more therapist than English teacher.”
Oh My Gods Page 2
