Pinehurst: A Magical Olympian Adventure-Young Adult Romantic Adventure/Fantasy Novel

by Grane, Nicole

  “I want you over there with Bixby.”

  “Sir?” There was no way he was pairing me up with Chad the Neanderthal. No way. No. Freaking. Way.

  “Close your mouth Hollyander and move your butt!”

  “But—” I met Gunny’s unwavering stare and slumped. There was no point arguing. Chad: the jerk, looked smug. I was so going to give him the whooping he deserved. I strode up to him, glowering.

  “You want a piece of this, Hollyander?” he asked with smug confidence. “Come and get it!”

  Chad’s face had a smirk that desperately needed to be wiped off. Antonio’s star move came to mind. I dropped to the floor and swiped my leg against his, knocking his butt to floor. Taking advantage of the dazed look on his face, I locked my legs around his neck, and smashed his head into the mat once more. OORAH!

  “Nice work Hollyander!” Gunny boomed. “Bixby, maybe you should work with Thompson. Thompson! What in the hell are you doing boy? Get your pansy ass over here, this isn’t free time!”

  I released Chad, jumped up and backed away quickly. He looked livid.

  “Try that again,” he growled stalking toward me.

  “I’d love to, but I can only bring myself to kick one mentally challenged Neanderthal’s butt a day.” I smiled sympathetically. “Sorry.”

  “Bixby!” Gunny hollered.

  “Don’t be too hard on Thompson, it’s not his fault you got your best side handed to you by a girl.” I smiled impishly before skipping over to Antonio. Who by the way, was smiling like a proud papa.

  “Did you see me kick Chad’s butt?” I squealed excitedly, jumping up for a high five!

  “The whole gym did. You were amazing!” He slapped my hand.

  Amazing . . . I was amazing! I could be an amazing kisser too if someone would only practice with me. Like, let’s say . . . two times a day . . . seven days a week? If only Antonio wasn’t such a stick-in-the-mud. I mean, I acted much older than I was. Roland certainly thought so.

  “Did you just roll your eyes at me?” Damn! He’d been listening again.

  Antonio just shook his head, trying hard to suppress a laugh. I hated it when he eavesdropped. If only there was some way for me to block him . . .?

  “Come on. You have laps to run.” He jerked his head to the side, motioning to the double doors that led to the track field.

  I huffed loudly, storming past him. “Men! They can’t even let you savor a victory!”

  “Hey Evie!” Roland raced up behind me, taking me up in his arms, and swinging me around. “Damn girl, you were hot, kicking Chad’s pride to the floor.”

  I blushed. No one had ever said I was “hot” . . . I kinda liked it. The large smile that hung on my face was not leaving anytime soon. Funny, why did Antonio look so pissed? Roland was just being sweet. I liked sweet. Besides, Antonio sure wasn’t campaigning for the boyfriend job!

  “So, do you have an escort for the announcement dinner?” Roland glanced to Antonio, as if sizing him up, before looking back to me.

  “Escort? No, do I need one?” Iris never said we had to have an escort for the award ceremony.

  “Hell yeah! Unless you want every guy here knocking on your door,” Roland nudged me playfully with his elbow.

  I looked around the room. Chad and Thompson were sparring. Well, Chad was.

  Thompson was doing his best not to get his butt kicked. Victor had Wyatt in a headlock, giving him a world-class noogie—dorks. And John was picking his nose—eww!

  No way. I did not want them knocking on my door. Hell no!

  “I just thought since you agreed to go to the dance with me,” Roland began, “that you might—”

  “I’ll take you.”

  Roland and I looked at Antonio simultaneously.

  “What?” My voice cracked. Did Antonio just say he wanted to take me?

  “I’ll take you.” His tone was firm. Authoritative. Man he made my heart flutter.

  “We’ll just be finishing up practice. I’ll walk you over after,” he shrugged, indifferent to the whole thing.

  “Well, I don’t want you to put yourself out,” I grumped. Jeez. Don’t do me any favors. Don’t act like you really want to take me, or anything.

  “I’m not.” Antonio said, answering my spoken and mental thoughts. “I’ll be heading that way myself. It’s no big deal. I’ll take you. Now come on. You still have laps to run and you have practice.” He gave Roland a long look that screamed, get lost!

  Roland’s brave façade faltered. “I’ll catch you later, Evie,” he said, giving me a quick wink before he retreated.

  I turned back to Antonio. He’d already gone out onto the track field.

  “Hey!” I had to run hard to catch up with him. “What was that about?”

  “What was what about?”

  Who was he kidding, playing innocent? “Roland. You practically back-handed him for asking me out!”

  “You’re imagining things.” He continued on, not breaking his stride.

  “Well if that’s the case, I’ll just run back in there and let Roland know I’m available after all.” Who knows, I might get kissed again.

  Antonio skidded to a halt, grabbing my arm as I threatened to pass.

  “You’re not having dinner with him. Or doing anything else he has planned in that hormonal mind of his.”

  “How do you know what he has planned? You read his mind too?” I scoffed. I knew Antonio could read my thoughts but . . . Wait! “What does he have planned?” What had Antonio’s panties in a wad?

  “They are not in a wad! And I do not wear panties!” He spat each word with disgust.

  Interesting . . . I wonder if he wears . . .

  “Stop that! You shouldn’t be curious about such things. You’re too young!”

  “Too young?” I was not too young. I was practically seventeen—almost a grown-up. I could feel my cheeks burning with embarrassment that he’d once again heard my wondering thoughts.

  “Until you are, grown-up that is,” he held back a snicker. “We’ll keep our conversations G-rated.”

  My mouth dropped open. I gave him my best haughty look, complete with hands on the hips. “I’ll have you know that in some cultures women my age are married; even having children!” Not that I wanted any of that, but hell, I was grown-up; even though I wasn’t experienced in such matters.

  I stomped my foot for effect. I’d seen my mother do that with my father when she wanted to get her point across, so I knew this was a very grown-up thing to do. Right? Besides, a child wouldn’t have kissed Roland the way I had. And he obviously didn’t consider me a child.

  “Like I said, you won’t be attending the Awards with Roland; or doing anything else with him for that matter.”

  I scoffed. “You can’t tell me who to date!”

  “Actually, I can.” He said this with unmistakable authority.

  Oh no. He did not just tell me he’s the boss of me. I’d punched guys for less. The thought of damaging Antonio’s gorgeous face didn’t sit well, but it was for the greater good. No guy was going to tell me what to do. Ever!

  “I’d re-think this if I were you,” he warned, not taking me seriously as a threat.

  “Bring it.” I started circling him like a lioness about to pounce on its prey. He smiled, and joined in the dance.

  “Evie, I’m just looking out for you,” he began. “You don’t know boys like I do. Roland isn’t as nice as you think. He won't be satisfied with just kissing.”

  “Quit trying to distract me. You don’t even know him.” I started narrowing my circle.

  “I know that your father wouldn’t like this either.”

  “What do you know about what my father would or wouldn’t like?” I growled, before I sucker kicked him in the gut.

  Antonio sucked in a breath of air and released it slowly. Otherwise, he was completely unaffected. I should have known. The guy was rock hard. If I were going to take him down, I’d have to be creative.

  “So it’
s going to be like that is it?” He recovered and used an oldie but goodie. A blunt kick to the thigh, sending me sailing several yards back.

  I really hated grass stains. My eyes narrowed as he approached.

  Antonio extended his hand to me. “I’m sorry Evie, but you had it coming. I didn’t want to hurt you but—oof!”

  Right in the sweet spot, baby! Ten points for Evie! I leaned back on my elbows waiting for Antonio to stop rolling around on the ground beside me. Boys were such babies. Honestly, a kick to the nads shouldn’t be this dramatic.

  “That. Was. Uncalled for,” he breathed, still sucking air.

  “That was for being bossy! Besides, in battle, everything is fair game.”

  “Ahahh!” Antonio had me pinned. He’d flipped me over, and had my arms behind my back, face-planting me into the grass.

  “What are you doing?” I squirmed under his weight.

  “Stopping you from inflicting any more harm,” he growled. “Or doing anything stupid. You’re going to listen to meeeee—” His voice trailed off as he flew backward in the air.

  I turned over, spitting grass from my lips. Antonio lay on his back a good thirty feet away. I hadn't even needed eye contact that time. “I’d listen but I can’t hear you way over there,” I shouted as I rose to my feet. “Maybe you shouldn’t have taught me how to throw all those bags around.” I turned on my heel and strode off toward the gym. I had a date to make.

  Chapter 13

  “What are we supposed to be doing again?” Iris propped her head in her hands, her eyes fixated on the angry little face staring back at her.

  I glanced around nervously. We were smack in the center of Ms. Powell’s Fundamentals of Magic Class, surrounded by demons from hell. Well, surrounded might be an exaggeration. We were put into pairs and each one of us looked at our assignments with pale and extremely panicked expressions.

  “We’re supposed to offer it something in trade for a secret,” I said. “They’re like little fortune tellers. Ask it anything you want to know, but be prepared to pay for it.” My dad had told me stories about pixies when I was little. He said they are ruthless, cunning, and greedy. But, they hold great knowledge . . . and are happy to share it . . . for a price.

  “I thought pixies were supposed to be cute and sweet.” The little beast stuck her tongue out at Iris. Iris huffed in disbelief. “Did you see that?”

  A high-pitched scream from across the room diverted my attention. Christina and Marissa, AKA Stacy’s Witch Squad, were in the process of removing one of the little devils from Christina’s hair. It was yanking out tufts of dingy blonde and tossing them to the floor.

  I turned back to our assignment and found it was grinning. A large lump formed in my throat. Suddenly, “playing” with a Ragno didn’t sound so bad.

  Iris leaned toward me. “They’re not very nice, are they?” she stated the obvious.

  I stiffened. “Quiet. She’s listening to you. You’ll hurt her feelings.” I glanced back at Christina, who was still wailing and slightly balder looking. Ms. Powell had joined in the efforts to untangle the little menace.

  Iris nudged my arm. “Maybe we can offer ours a hair brush?”

  That earned us a hiss. The pixie was glowering at us, shaking its little fists wildly.

  “I think she likes her hair the way it is, Iris.” I scooted my chair back slightly. This little ball of fury could erupt at any moment.

  “Maybe she doesn’t have such things,” Iris whispered into my ear. Her eyes, still fixed on the demon from Hell.

  I thought about that. An idea struck me. I reached for my purse and dug through it. I pulled out a silver barrette embellished with crystals.

  The little beast’s eyes lit up like the Fourth of July. I tilted the barrette this way and that, letting the light reflect off the stones. The pixie stuck her tongue out and licked her lips. She wanted it. Bad!

  “It’s pretty, isn’t it? Just like you.” I nearly choked on the lie! The little beast was as ugly as sin, but whatever. I had a question to ask, one that had been weighing on my mind since the other day. Antonio had implied something and who better to ask than a fortuneteller?

  “This would look lovely in your hair,” I lied, continuing to bait the hook.

  The pixie stood up. She was only five inches tall, but from what I’d just witnessed with Christina’s, they could pack quite a punch. I had to tread lightly.

  “I’d like to offer you this,” I tilted the barrette again, allowing the light to touch it. Rainbows danced on my desk, and on the walls around us. Her black little eyes gleamed with excitement.

  “What do you wish to know?”

  “It spoke!” Iris gasped.

  It spoke. Not a deep raspy voice like you might have expected from such a nasty looking creature, but a high soprano; a siren’s call. No wonder the pixie is one of the most feared creatures in the Underworld. They could, and did, lure unsuspecting Mageia to their death. Hell, they were freaking neighbors with the Lord of the Underworld himself! He probably had them over for weekend barbeques!

  “Anything?” I questioned. I’d have to be careful not to let her trick me.

  She smiled a wicked smile. “Anything.”

  I tilted the barrette between my fingers, watching her eyes all the while. I could see the desperation in them. She could barely stand it.

  “Alright. Why must I go to the Underworld?”

  Iris choked beside me. “Evie!”

  The pixie’s grin stretched across her face. “Smart one you are,” it sang. “You will go willingly into Hell. The love for your father will bring you.”

  My heart stilled. What did she mean the love for my father would bring me? What did he have to do with me taking a trip south? “You’re lying!” I accused her. Although I knew she spoke the truth. I could hear it in her voice. The indisputable ring of truth, that coated the words of a pixie. Ironic! They looked like the most-untrustworthy creatures ever to darken the planet.

  “A pixie never lies! Especially when making a trade,” it hissed insulted by the suggestion. “You will go willingly into Hell,” she repeated insistently. “The love for your father will bring you.”

  I handed her the clip.

  The pixie snatched it greedily and placed it in her hair before strutting across our tabletop, like a runway model. The other female pixies stared at her with envy—she basked in it.

  I however, tried not to stare at the oversized bling perched on her head. She looked ridiculous. It looked more like a giant tiara than a dainty barrette.

  “I am feeling generous today.” She turned and faced me once again. “I will allow you to ask me one other question.”

  I stared at her in disbelief. Was this a trick?

  “No payment will be expected,” she explained seeing my hesitation.

  Alright, here goes: “Will I return . . . with my father . . . the both of us, alive?” I had no idea why I was playing along. Of course it was ridiculous. There was no way my dad was hanging out in the Underworld waiting for sixteen-year-old Evelyn Hollyander to rescue him. The very idea was crazy. So why did I dread her answer?

  “Evie, I don’t understand why . . .” Iris’s voice seemed to drift off. My focus was on the pixie before me.

  “He will not let you go . . . Child of Light.”

  What in the hell was she talking about, a “Child of Light?” “Who won’t let me go?” And why was she calling me the “Child of Light?”

  The pixie grinned. “Ah, but that was not the question I am to answer.”

  “So it isn’t.” My eyes narrowed at the sneaky little bugger. Yeah? Well, I could be sneaky too.

  “Alright then, will the ‘Child of Light’ return with my father?” Two questions in one: Who was this Child of Light? And, if it is in fact me, then would I rescue my dad from Hell? I couldn’t believe I was having this conversation.

  The pixie suddenly looked uncertain. “That has not been decided yet.” Her head tilted to the side, her eyes searching
me . . . for what I didn’t know.

  “What do you mean it hasn’t been decided yet? I thought pixies knew everything?

  That earned me a smile; and apparently a reward: “A Child of Light is a key. It opens the gates so demons may be free.”

  Crap! That wasn’t the answer I’d been looking for. In fact, it screamed no! As in I would not be returning from Hell! My dad! I jumped to my feet. “I have to go.” I gathered my things, tossing them into my pack.

  “Evie, what’s going on?”

  “I’m sorry Iris, I’ll explain later.”

  “Miss Hollyander?”

  “I’m sorry Ms. Powell, I’m not feeling well. I have to go.”

  “Farewell . . . Child of Light.” The little pixie waved after me. “Until we meet again.”

  I shuddered. I knew it was a cliché, but I felt as though someone had just walked over my grave.

  I rushed out the door. There was only one person I needed to talk to right now. I dug through my purse and pulled out my cell phone and dialed. “Come on . . . answer!” Damn! Why wasn’t my dad picking up? He was not in Hell! I growled mentally. No way! I closed the phone for a moment before I thought to call Miles. I flipped it open again and hit speed-dial.

  “Miles! Where’s my father?” I didn’t bother with pleasantries. I got right to the point. I listened quietly for what seemed like ages.

  “How long has he been gone?” The lump in my throat had grown to the size of a baseball. I could hear the uneasiness in his voice. Very un-Miles like. He was attempting to comfort me when I snapped my phone shut. I didn’t even remember saying goodbye to him.

  My dad was missing. Miles hadn’t heard from him in over a week. This was so not good. Miles was my dad’s right hand man. If he didn’t know where he was . . . no one did.

  But, that wasn’t exactly true. That little pixie piece-of-crap knew where he was. And Antonio! He was the one to first hint that I would be heading into the Underworld in the first place. Did he know my dad was missing too and didn’t tell me?

  “Miss. Hollyander?”

  I spun around. Ms. Leech was standing in front of me, her violet eyes tight with concern. Violet? Weird. I thought her eyes were brown?