Cursed by the Gods

by Raye Wagner

  Hope ignored the ribbing. “You know he asked me out. To dinner. Yesterday.”

  “What?”

  Several kids looked over at them.

  Hope rolled her eyes. “I know. What a loser.”

  “No. Like. Wow. That is—”

  “Super lame. He’s with Stacie, right?” Her outrage was totally justified. He should get dropped in a pit somewhere.

  “I don’t know. I mean, they’re always together, but, maybe . . .”

  Hope shook her head. “Total ’taur.”

  “I’m so going to ask Tristan. What if you’re wrong?” The bell rang, and Haley turned to go. “Crap. I can’t be late again. I’ll see you in Spanish, ’kay?”

  Hope nodded.

  She wasn’t wrong.

  And it didn’t matter.

  That night the cool air wicked the heat from her body as Hope ran. She turned left on Columbia for another loop around the town.

  The sun had set hours ago, and the streetlights cast an eerie glow in the shape of hourglasses on the ground.

  It had been twenty-two days since Priska disappeared. Three—freaking—weeks.

  And Mr. Davenport had been worthless. He didn’t even know what city she’d been in. Why had she been so secretive? How was Hope supposed to rescue Priska—

  Hope stumbled over the uneven sidewalk. With a curse, she righted herself. When she looked up, she saw him.

  He stood just outside the yellow glow, the same pallid skin, eyes dark as pitch. The Skia that had killed Brand.

  She gasped and stepped back. He could kill her! And she’d left the immortal daggers at home.

  She stared at his obsidian eyes.

  He narrowed his eyes and beckoned her, fingers waving at her in invitation.

  Her muscles tensed. Her breathing became shallow, and her heart raced. She reached for a dagger, and in the time it took her to blink . . .

  He was gone.

  What the Hades?

  She swallowed down her panic. She should go home, go straight home. But he was gone. How was he just gone? She stepped up to the shadow he’d been under.

  Nothing.

  The concrete was solid. There was nothing to explain what she’d seen.

  “He’s so hot, and if he was interested in Stacie, he’s not anymore.” Krista looked like a cat that got the cream. “I saw her in the bathroom crying this morning.”

  “Did they hook up?” Angela leaned forward.

  Hope rolled her eyes, but her interest was piqued nonetheless.

  “They hung out and everything, but . . . Get this—he never even kissed her.”

  “Right.” Angela’s disbelief colored her tone.

  Hope was with Angela on this. Hope had seen the couple sitting in the library last week during lunch. Stacie was on his lap.

  “Seriously. And Athan said they were never together. Like, not at all.”

  Right. If they weren’t together, then why was Stacie on his lap? Boys were idiots, and Athan was the king of them all.

  The bell rang. Hope gathered her things and shoved them into her backpack. As she walked out the door, she glanced back at Krista and Angela, heads bent toward each other, probably still gossiping.

  Thud!

  “Easy there.”

  Warm hands gripped her arms, steadying her, and she looked up into dark-green eyes.

  “You all right?” Athan stepped forward even as he continued to hold her upright.

  “Yeah. Sorry.” She stepped back, but his grip prevented her from going anywhere. She pulled back, but he held tight.

  “You’re not hurt, are you?”

  She snorted. “Uh, no.”

  She looked down at his hands, still holding her arms. Why was he not letting go?

  “Right.” His hands dropped, but he continued to stand in her direct path.

  Krista and Angela gushed as they came out the door. “Oh my gods!”

  “Could you be more clumsy, Hope?” Krista rolled her eyes and turned her attention to Athan. “She practically ran you over. So lame.”

  Krista stood on one side of Hope, Angela on the other, hemming her in. Krista tossed her hair over her shoulder, the ends whipping Hope in the face.

  She was boxed in, her anxiety about the attention pushing in on her as much as the proximity of the bodies surrounding her.

  “Sorry about that,” Hope mumbled, stepping back in an attempt to escape. But all she did was step back into the classroom.

  “No need to apologize.” Athan frowned and stepped out of her way. “I should have been more careful, too.”

  She said nothing more and fled to the library.

  Five minutes before lunch was over, Hope hurried down the hall to algebra. She wanted to be in her seat before Athan came into the room. In her seat with her head down. Maybe even catch a few minutes of the sleep she’d lost last night.

  She even beat Mr. Romero to the room. With a sigh of relief, she slid into her chair and dropped her head into her hands.

  “Do you have a headache?”

  Athan’s strange accent shattered her mental block, and her head shot up. It felt like he was everywhere. She glared at him while she answered, “No.”

  “Are you tired?” He crouched down so they were at eye level. “Are you not sleeping well?”

  “I’m sleeping fine.” She clenched her teeth, then forced her jaw to relax. “Not that it should matter to you.”

  Instead of looking offended, he smirked. “But maybe it does.”

  He reached out, his hand halting just before touching her arm. He rested his fingertips on the edge of her desk, just millimeters from her arm.

  She shook her head and snapped at him, “Go away, Athan. Find someone else to annoy. We aren’t friends.”

  She dropped her head back onto her arms and waited for him to leave.

  She felt his hand move off her desk, but his presence remained. Why would he not just leave?

  “I am not your enemy. And maybe, someday, you will see just how much I would like to be your friend,” he whispered, and then he left.

  Hope’s head felt tethered to her desk. She’d woken up late and barely made it to school before the bell. The morning was dragging, and so was she.

  She was supposed to be balancing chemical equations, but the Cs, Hs, and Os were a jumble on her paper. She closed her eyes and couldn’t help but overhear Angela and Krista.

  “So, I heard he joined the track team.”

  Krista snorted. “Hmm, for the last month of school? Well, that’s super interesting.”

  “And nothing is going on with him and Chelli.” Angela sounded like she was giving a book report. “Her dad’s got her enrolled in some private school. I guess Athan took her out, but just as friends. You know, because of Brand.”

  It was amazing that Angela’s mother was a licensed counselor. Seriously.

  “Whatever.” Krista dismissed her friend’s information. “Guess what I heard?”

  Angela said nothing.

  “He told Scott that he doesn’t have a curfew. At all. You know his aunt is insane, and he can come and go as he pleases.”

  Hope peeked at the two girls. Angela stared at Krista with wide eyes, while the dark-haired girl held up her hand as if to stop her friend from speaking.

  “Anytime.” She raised her eyebrows as she continued, “Mmm. This weekend is my chance, and I’m totally taking it.”

  “Is he going to come down to the river Saturday? Did Lee invite him?” Angela asked.

  “Yeah. I was there when Lee asked him, and he looked at me and asked if I’d be going. I was like, ‘Yeah, I’ll be there,’ and then he said he’d come.” Krista smirked, as if she’d just won the lottery.

  By the end of class, Hope found herself fuming with irritation. Three days ago, Athan wanted to be buddies, but since then he’d been out with three other girls. Three. No, if he was going out with Krista, make it four.

  What was with him? He took player to a whole new level.

&nb
sp; Hope headed back to her locker, alternately thinking about Athan and forcing herself to not think about him. Consumed with her thoughts, she didn’t notice him until he spoke.

  “Hey. How are you today?” His voice was light, but the intensity of his gaze was incongruous with his tone.

  She wanted to hit him. After three days, he was talking to her again? “Fine.”

  “Hmm. Okay.” His gaze flitted from her eyes to her lips and back to her eyes. “I was just wondering, well, two things, actually. First, are you running tonight?”

  He reached out as if to touch her, and she pulled back. She refused to fall under his spell. “No, I’m not.” Not that you should even care. She glared at him. “What else?”

  “Oh. Um, well.” He reached for her again but pulled back before she had time to react. “I was wondering if you were going to the . . .” He glanced down for a moment, and then took a deep breath. His gaze searched her face. “Hope . . .”

  He was thinking, but what about, she couldn’t tell.

  “Never mind. That’s it.” He shifted to leave.

  Her curiosity was piqued, but she told herself she didn’t care. Besides, even if she did care, it was better to avoid him. He brought chaos. And way too much attention. She grabbed her algebra book and headed to the library.

  “So he’s talking to you again?” Haley sat in the library with Hope and picked at her sandwich. “I can’t keep you two straight.”

  Hope glared at her friend. “There is no us two. Just me. Athan is just . . .”

  There weren’t even words to describe how irritating he was.

  “You know what I think? He’s trying to make you jealous. And I think it’s working.”

  ‘Ugh. No way.” There was no way Hope was jealous. Was she? Is that what this ugly feeling was? But she didn’t even like him. Just thinking about him made her frustrated, but that wasn’t jealousy. Nope. She just hated him. “What about you and Tristan?”

  “Oh, man.” Haley took the bait and flopped back into her seat, her sandwich dropping into her lap. “He’s all nice and everything, even wants to meet at the river tomorrow, but here at school he acts like we’re just friends. I mean, he won’t even hold my hand.”

  “Maybe that’ll change tomorrow.” Hope puckered her lips. “Maybe he’ll kiss you, or—”

  Haley snorted. “Yeah. He kissed me two weeks ago, and then, BAM!” She clapped her hands together. “Nothing.”

  “Shhh!” someone whisper-yelled. Probably the librarian. No one else was ever in the library at lunch.

  Hope giggled but stopped when she looked back at Haley.

  “What if he’s playing me?” Haley looked up, her face lined with worry.

  “I don’t think he’s like that.” Not that Hope knew him well, but he wasn’t like Athan. He didn’t hang out with other girls at school. “He seems friendly enough, but not really flirty.”

  At the end of the day, as she crossed the school parking lot, she saw Athan, Tristan, Lee, and Scott out by the hugest truck she’d ever seen. A bright iridescent blue, it was bigger than any other vehicle in the lot. The tires were oversized, and there was an inordinate amount of chrome; it was the most ostentatious thing.

  She went to duck into her Civic, and someone laughed. She glanced at the group of boys again, and her gold eyes locked with green ones. As Athan regarded her, the corners of his mouth lifted.

  Something foreign pulled at her heart, and for the briefest moment, she wanted to join them.

  Hope awoke to the muted light of the sunrise. Despite the emotional strain of the last few months, she felt rested and oddly at peace. She ran her loop around the town twice before getting ready for the day.

  She tapped out a quick text to Priska.

  I miss you. I hope you are safe. If you get this, plz call me.

  For the first time, Hope didn’t wait to see if there was a response. It wasn’t that she didn’t want Priska to rescue her. But as the days turned into weeks, and into over a month, Hope no longer expected it.

  Preoccupied with her thoughts, Hope didn’t hear the approach of the vehicle until the crunch of tires rolling over the road slowed beside her.

  “Do you want a ride?” Athan leaned over the seat toward the passenger window of his flashy truck.

  And just like that, her mood darkened, and her chest tightened. “No thanks. I’m enjoying the walk.”

  “Of course.” His shoulders dropped. “It is a nice morning.” When she said nothing, he continued, “See you at school.”

  “Sure.” She stepped back on the sidewalk, but her lungs wouldn’t release. Butterflies swooped and swarmed, and she wondered at his persistence.

  Minutes later, she bounded up the steps of the school, an unfamiliar sense of buoyancy adding a spring to her step. The smile that played on her lips twitched as it pulled and tugged long-unused muscles.

  Hope walked toward her locker, feeling a little brighter about her day, but then she stopped. Right in the middle of the hall.

  Athan . . . and Krista. Hope sucked in a breath. For a moment, she thought they were kissing. Krista’s back was against the lockers, and Athan’s hands framed her face.

  Hope wanted to throw something.

  No, she scolded herself. He could flirt with whomever he wanted. It didn’t matter. Not to her. She’d turned down a ride from him that very morning, only minutes ago. He was a jerk. But it meant nothing to her.

  Three hours later, she was still fuming.

  “I can’t wait until tomorrow,” Krista gushed to Angela in chemistry.

  Hope’s pencil stopped, all her attention drawn to the two girls. No, really just the one. Was it wrong that she wanted to physically hurt her?

  “Single today, hookup tomorrow. By Monday, my name will be tattooed on his arm. That’s my prediction.”

  Hope dreamed that the girl would be struck by a stray lightning bolt. Right there in class.

  Angela looked just as stricken. “He seems really—”

  Krista tossed her hair. “Yummy. I know. He smells so good I could just lick him. I can’t wait to . . .” Krista must have felt the weight of Hope’s stare, and her eyes narrowed. “What are you looking at?”

  Fire danced into Hope’s cheeks. “Nothing.”

  “Nothing? Really? If you’re looking at nothing, why don’t you turn around and look at nothing that way.” Krista waved a pink polished finger at her. “Go on. Turn around.”

  The hot pulse ran from Hope’s heart to her toes. Her body tensed. “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me. Turn around.”

  She clenched her hands under the desk. A sharp splinter of wood dug into her palm, and the pain bit through her haze of rage.

  “Whatever,” she said, through gritted teeth.

  “Back at ya, harpy.” Krista leaned toward her friend, and her voice dropped to just above a whisper. “What’s up with her?”

  The bell rang, and Hope shoved her binder and book into her bag. She needed to get out before she lost it. But as she hurried out the door, someone shoved her from behind.

  “You’re in my way.” Krista glared. “Hurry up.”

  Something inside Hope solidified with a snap. She lowered her head till she was looking Krista in the eye. “Back off.” She took a deep breath and continued, “Now.”

  “Really?” Krista sneered. “Are you, like, telling me what to do?”

  “Only if you, like, value your life.” Hope tossed her head back and forth, mocking Krista. “Like, seriously, like.” Dropping her voice to a growl, Hope narrowed her eyes and said, “Seriously. Back. Off.”

  Krista drew her small hand back and slapped Hope across the face.

  Before the sting fully registered, Hope caught Krista’s wrist and ducked behind her, twisting the girl’s arm up her own back. Hope pushed the hand inward and torqued the wrist until she heard Krista gasp with pain.

  “Don’t ever, ever, do that again,” Hope fumed. “Or I will make it my personal mission to destroy you.”r />
  She had no idea where the words came from, but they felt strong on her lips. She yanked Krista’s arm again, eliciting a whimper. “Do you understand me?”

  Krista bobbed her head in shaky, jerky movements.

  Hope pushed her away and strode out the door and down the hall. She could hear the curses drifting after her, and they still rung in her ears even when she sat alone in the library.

  Whispers followed her the rest of the day. Any empowerment she felt dissipated before lunch was over. Embarrassment washed in and took its place.

  In algebra, as the other students shuffled in, she kept her head down, pretending to review her completed assignment.

  And then laughter rang out, uproarious and mocking, and a group passed by on its way to the back of the room. A pang of longing zinged through her, then a sensation that was overwhelming and bitter.

  As soon as the final bell rang, Hope fled.

  She wrapped her loneliness around her like a shawl and trudged toward home. A desperate need for some kind of connection drove her into the Red Apple and back toward the meat department.

  “Hi, Hope.” Mr. Stanley’s smile was a ray of sunshine.

  But even he could barely pierce the gloom.

  “Do you have anything good for me?” Her voice was flat, and she looked at the case in front of her.

  “Okay,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “I spent some real time finding this one. I think you’ll like it.” He concentrated then recited: “If you break me, I do not stop working. If you touch me, I may be snared. If you lose me, nothing will matter. What am I?”

  A smile pulled at the corners of her soul when Mr. Stanley started the riddle. He’d misunderstood her question, and yet given her exactly what she needed. Distracted by the puzzle, everything else disappeared.

  As she leaned against the meat case, Mr. Stanley went back to work, helping customers, packaging meat, and cleaning his area. She thought of watches and rabbits, money and health. She thought of flirting girls and stupid boys. She thought of Priska, and Paul and Sarra. She thought about her mom.

  After more than a half an hour, Mr. Stanley cleared his throat. “I know what it’s like to try and sort out a riddle, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen you take this much time.”