“I don’t like to talk about my past, Elizabeth. Can we change the subject, please?”
She bit her lip and looked down at her feet. Even at the fundraising banquet, she had sensed Hades had a different life than most. Now she wondered just what sort of childhood he had endured. She wanted to tell him that he could confide in her about anything, but it felt too soon for that. This was only their first date.
As they left the elephant exhibit, she noticed a photo booth and lit up.
“Let’s commemorate this,” she said, grabbing his arm and pulling him toward the tiny cubicle.
He stopped walking, dragging her to a halt. His eyes narrowed at the sight of the booth. “Wait, what is that?”
“It’s a photo booth,” she said, feeling another stir of surprise at his naïveté. “Come on, it’s fun.”
He looked like he wanted to argue, then sighed and allowed her to guide him into the booth.
“Don’t forget to smile,” Elizabeth said as she messed with the machine’s interface, figuring out how to use it.
“I’ll try to remember,” Hades said with a smile, but he still looked vaguely uncomfortable being in the dark, confined space, like he expected something to pop out at him from behind the curtain. When he lowered his right hand to his waist and began messing with the belt loops there, she entwined her fingers through his and pulled him closer.
“Get ready.” She squeezed his hand. “It’s about to begin.”
She leaned against him, waiting for the first photo to be taken. When the camera flashed, he tensed. Then, during the second photo, as she made a funny expression and lifted her fingers above his head in bunny ears, a ghost of a smile stroked his lips. By the third picture, he was smiling like normal and took her by surprise on the fourth shot when he grabbed her and hauled her against him.
Laughing, she untangled herself from his gentle grasp and plucked the two photo strips from the machine. As they stepped out of the booth, she handed him one of the photographs and stuck the other in her purse.
“They turned out nice, didn’t they?” she asked.
“Great.”
“In the first one, you look like a monster’s going to pop out at you at any moment,” she joked.
He smiled. “I’m not a fan of dark places.”
“What was your favorite exhibit?” she asked as they walked toward the exit.
“The lions, but I liked that farm one, too. I’ve never pet a cow before.”
“Well, I think you did a pretty good job. The cow seemed to like you.”
“I’m good with animals,” Hades said. “I take care of the guard dogs.”
“Guard dogs?” Elizabeth asked, startled.
“Rottweilers.”
“Are you a dog trainer or something?”
He laughed, shaking his head. “No, and they’re not actually guard dogs. They’re pets, I mean. Friendly. I think you’d like them.”
On their way out, she insisted on stopping at a gift shop. The shelves were stocked with souvenir T-shirts, animal-themed jewelry, jigsaw puzzles, and decorative statues. Though there were no panthers or jaguars on exhibit at the National Zoo, the shop’s stuffed animal selection included toys of both species. She bought a small stuffed panther and gave it to Hades.
“It’s nice,” he said and tried to hand the stuffed animal back to her.
“No, I want you to have it.”
A ghost of confusion passed over his face. “Why?”
Elizabeth was about to tell him that he reminded her of a panther, then realized how silly it would seem to him. Why would he want to be compared to a deadly animal? He might even take offense.
“The cats were your favorites, so…” She trailed off.
“I can’t take this.”
Embarrassment invaded her. How could she be so stupid? Of course he wouldn’t want it. He was a guy. What could he do with a stuffed animal?
“I’m sorry,” she said as a blush burned her cheeks. “I should’ve known it’s too girlie. I don’t know what I was thinking. I should return it.”
“That’s not it. I’m not supposed to be here. If I bring that back with me, he’ll know that I was here.”
Her brow wrinkled. “Wait, what do you mean? Who will? Didn’t you say you were emancipated? I thought that meant you lived alone.”
“Never mind, forget I said anything.” He turned the stuffed panther over in his hands. “I actually really like it. Thank you, Elizabeth. I’ll treasure it.”
Suddenly, a terrible thought occurred to her.
“Oh no,” she groaned, pulling out her phone to check the time. It was 1:29 p.m. Two hours had flown by like a pleasant dream. “I’m supposed to meet my friend Rachelle at two to go costume shopping. She’s going to be pissed if I’m late. I need to go.”
Hades lowered the stuffed animal. “Oh.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I wish we could spend more time together.”
“So do I,” he murmured.
“Don’t forget about the dance.” She took off his jacket and handed it back to him. “I’ll text you to remind you.”
He nodded. “I’ll see you there.”
She leaned forward and gave him a quick peck on the cheek before her nerve fled her, then turned around and raced toward the exit.
...
A scream rose from beneath her feet as she stepped onto the welcome mat in front of the costume shop’s door. As she entered, she propped the bouquet under her arm and took out her phone to call Rachelle, only to spot her friend trying on costume shoes.
“Fifteen minutes late,” Rachelle said as Elizabeth walked over. “Really?”
“I’m so sorry. We went to the zoo after we ate, and I completely forgot about the time.”
Rachelle sniffed. “Ugh. I can tell. You smell like a pigsty. So, how did your date go?”
“Perfect,” she said, lifting the bouquet. “Look what he got me.”
“What are those supposed to be?” Rachelle asked.
“They’re forget-me-nots.”
“Oh, right. So did you manage to get a picture of him?”
Elizabeth nodded and opened her purse. She took out the photo strip from the elephant exhibit’s booth and showed it to Rachelle.
“You weren’t kidding when you called him gorgeous,” Rachelle said, taking the photograph and examining it. “But doesn’t he look a little…”
“A little what?”
“Well, rough. Edgy, I guess.”
“You think so?” Elizabeth asked, surprised.
“Hashtag hot mess.”
“He’s not a hot mess,” she said defensively. “He just could use a haircut.”
“There’s something about his face. Looks like he hasn’t slept in days.”
“He told me he has insomnia.”
“Or maybe he’s a druggie.”
“I don’t think so.”
“And I don’t really like his mouth,” Rachelle added, handing the photo back to her.
“What’s wrong with his mouth?” she asked, her horror eclipsed by mounting anger. In her mind, Hades had beautiful lips. More than once, she had imagined kissing them.
“There’s just something mean about it.”
“Mean?” She couldn’t contain the annoyance in her voice.
“No offense, but he doesn’t seem like your type.” Rachelle crossed her arms and shifted from foot to foot, wrinkling her freckled nose. “I mean, do your parents know you’re seeing him?”
“I’m not seeing him,” Elizabeth said, wishing she had never told Rachelle about him. “We met for lunch is all.”
“He brought you flowers. Guys don’t do that if they’re not serious.”
“It’s not like they were roses.” She decided not to mention that she had also invited Hades to the Halloween dance or that she’d kissed him on the cheek.
“Still, did he at least tell you his real name?”
“Well, no, but I think maybe Hades is his real name. I think he had
a…different childhood.”
“Yeah, I can tell,” Rachelle said, rolling her eyes. “Nice Walmart clothes. But really, why not just go back to Adam?”
Elizabeth sighed. Adam Fletcher was her ex-boyfriend from before the car accident, a cocky all-American boy who could be as loud and boastful as a rooster. He might as well have been a stranger to her.
“I know Hades looks rough, but I can tell in my heart that he’s a good person,” Elizabeth said. “Besides, you can’t judge people by their appearances or the kinds of clothes they wear.”
Rachelle shook her head. “This isn’t like you.”
“I can’t explain it,” she said, sorting through the costumes. She hated having to justify her feelings to Rachelle, but she felt the need to. “It’s not just a crush.”
“Oh, Elizabeth.” Rachelle sighed. “You’re not going to tell me it’s love at first sight, are you?”
“This is going to sound so silly, but it’s like I’ve known him my whole life. His voice is so soothing. I feel like I could listen to him forever. And I actually get to be myself around him.” Moving to the next rack, she glanced over her shoulder at Rachelle and was surprised to find a frown on her friend’s face.
“All I’m saying is he doesn’t really look like the kind of person you should be dating. Besides, what’s with that tattoo? I mean, who gets A-02 tattooed on their arm? I bet it’s a gang symbol. It sounds like one.”
Seized by anger, Elizabeth swiveled around. “You know what I think? I think you’re jealous because Chris broke up with you.”
A look of hurt crossed Rachelle’s face. “Elizabeth, how dare you. I’m only trying to look out for you.”
“Forget it,” she said, turning her back to Rachelle again. “I don’t want to talk about him anymore. I don’t expect you to understand how I feel.”
“I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
Elizabeth returned her attention to the rack of costumes, searching for an outfit that held her interest.
“What about this?” Rachelle asked, holding up a plastic bag that contained an angel costume. The photograph on the label depicted a woman in a skimpy white gown adorned with feather trim and fake wings. “It comes with a halo, too.”
“It’s nice, but no thank you,” Elizabeth said stiffly. She was sick of playing an angel at home. She didn’t need to be one on Halloween, too.
She skimmed through the rack—and froze. Although the costume that caught her eye wasn’t the most elaborate outfit in the shop or the most expensive, she found herself picking it up anyway. The photograph on the front did the outfit no justice, but it was the costume’s name that resonated with her: Persephone.
Since meeting Hades, she had further researched Greek mythology. One of the myths she had read about concerned the goddess Persephone, who was kidnapped by the god Hades as his queen and taken to the underworld. Persephone’s mother brokered a deal with Zeus to bring her back to the living world, but because Persephone had eaten six pomegranate seeds in the underworld, she was forced to spend that many months there each year.
Elizabeth smiled, wondering what Hades would think about the costume.
“I’m going to try this on,” she said, folding the bag over her arm.
“Oh. Okay.” Rachelle barely even looked at her.
Elizabeth entered the dressing room. She stripped out of her skirt, cardigan, and blouse then set them on the small bench provided.
She removed the costume from its bag and slipped it over her shoulders. She examined herself in the mirror, regarding the way the toga flowed around her.
Her parents would approve of the long hem, which fell to her calves, but the neckline was a different story. Her shoulders were exposed, her cleavage visible.
Even though women at the fundraising banquet had worn gowns that were far less modest, Elizabeth could only imagine what her mother and father would say.
Then a revelation came to her: it didn’t mean a damn what her parents said. She couldn’t keep living under their shadow, or she would never be able to escape from the future they had laid out for her. If she wanted to live as her own person, she needed to start making her own decisions, whether they might cause scandals or not.
The bag also yielded a black sash belt and a crown of black silk flowers. She tried those on, as well, and smiled at her reflection. With smoky makeup and Grecian sandals, she would cast an elegant, imposing figure.
Perfect for the queen of the underworld.
She took a selfie and texted it to Hades with the words: My costume for the dance. Can you get one that matches?
Within seconds, her phone rang. She answered the call.
“You want me to wear a dress?” Hades asked, his voice rich with amusement. She could just envision his smile.
“It’s a toga,” Elizabeth said, smiling at her reflection.
“I’ll see what I can find. What are you supposed to be, aside from beautiful?”
“Persephone.”
Silence met her response.
“Are you still there?” she asked, worried the line had disconnected.
“Yes,” he said after a long pause. The humor was gone from his voice.
Had she offended him somehow?
“I need to go, Elizabeth,” Hades said. “I’ll see about getting a costume, but I can’t make any promises.”
“Okay, that’s fine. You don’t have to wear a costume if you don’t want to. As long as you show up.”
“Oh, I plan to.” A ghost of warmth returned to his voice. “You make a lovely Persephone.”
Status Report: Subject 10 of Subset B
Apollo’s programming is progressing as expected. However, his memory loss continues to trouble me. Amnesia this soon is not typical, and for him to have forgotten his entire training, I can’t help but wonder if the ECT machine malfunctioned during his treatment. I have already ordered another machine. The last thing I need is to reduce a valuable asset into a human vegetable.
Charles Warren wants me to utilize Apollo as soon as possible, but I feel it is much too soon. I recommended that I send Hades instead, however it seems like Charles is determined to broaden the wet works division. I can’t help but wonder if Charles has changed his mind about a slow, silent subversion and instead plans to overthrow the government by force. I’ve voiced my concerns to other members in the organization, but they seem unbothered by Charles’s impatience.
While I understand the need for targeted killings, why the rush? Is it possible that Charles is planning something without the approval of the entire council?
In any case, I will have Hades keep an eye on him for this preliminary test. Failure is not an option.
Case Notes 12:
Apollo
It was seventh period, world history. Tyler dropped his backpack next to his desk and sank into his seat, preparing himself for a torturous lesson.
At the front of the room, Mr. Davidson fiddled with an old overhead projector, muttering under his breath about budget cuts and SMART Boards. He was a short, thin man who, as far as anyone could tell, was between seventy and two hundred years old, and that was being generous. His white hair was brushed back from the temples, not a strand out of place. The creases in his khaki trousers were ironed to perfection, while his oxfords were so clean and shiny they appeared to have been spit shined. In one hand, he had a long metal pointer, which he held as though it were a truncheon—and one that he was willing to use.
As soon as the bell rang, Mr. Davidson whacked the rod on his desk to catch everyone’s attention then thrust it toward the whiteboard. “Today we will be continuing the ancient civilizations unit by learning about the Roman Empire,” Davidson said. “And you know what that means, class? Gladiator fights. The reign of Augustus. The rise of Christianity.”
While those were all interesting topics, the teacher reeled them off like a shopping list in a dry monotone. He had a shred of lettuce trapped between his front teeth, and when he thought nobody was looking, he prod
ded it with his tongue.
“Just kill me already,” Tyler mumbled from the back row. They were less than two minutes into class, and he already couldn’t wait for it to be over.
“Tell me about it,” Alan said, leaning back in his chair. He sat to Tyler’s right and made the most out of their closeness by peeping on his quiz sheets.
Tyler didn’t care much for cheaters, but he gave Alan a free pass because they were friends. And also because he knew his writing was pretty illegible. But mostly just because he didn’t care.
“At least it’s Friday, last class to go,” Tyler said. “How was your day?”
“Oh, you know.” Alan rolled his eyes. “Same as always. Victoria’s still ignoring me.”
“Tough luck.”
“I think she’s going to keep me in the friend zone forever.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t go out of your way to flirt with her. Just be yourself around her.”
“Dude, I’m not going out of my way to do anything.”
“Then you’re screwed,” he said, checking his smartphone to see if Shannon had texted him. In the six days since their date, he had passed her in the halls multiple times and sat with her during lunch hour, but that was as far as their interactions had gone. She kept forgetting to bring the flip phone to school, but he was now more concerned with the possibility of a future date than what they might find on the cellular device.
At the front of the class, Mr. Davidson whacked his pointer against the whiteboard. “Attention, class! Attention! Start writing!”
Tyler put his phone away and opened his notebook. He turned to a fresh page that wasn’t scrawled with notes, doodles, or covered in timelines.
“Oh, seriously, bro-ski? You’re really going to listen to that?” Alan nodded toward Davidson, who was beginning to drawl on about the Roman Empire.
“Maybe if you did, you wouldn’t have to steal my test answers.”
“Guilty as charged,” Alan muttered. “But still, I mean, why bother?”
“Because we’re here for seven hours a day, and I want to make the most of it.” Regardless of whether he paid attention in class, he would still have to sit through the lectures. He wanted the school day to actually be meaningful.
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