Cursed by the Gods

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Cursed by the Gods Page 14

by Raye Wagner


  A car was backing out farther up the row, and she put on her blinker and eased up to the space.

  Hope slouched down in the seat, waiting for a bomb. Because really, what more could go wrong?

  “Yesterday at the river . . . Athan was talking about you.”

  Hope sat up. That wasn’t what she was expecting. “What?”

  “I knew it.” Haley smiled as she pulled into the parking stall. “You’re all, ‘whatever, I hate him,’ but really . . .” She nodded. “Yeah. I knew it.”

  “No. Friday he gave me a ride home from the grocery store. He asked if we could be friends; I said yes. That’s it.”

  “Friends?” Haley glanced at her before climbing out of the car. “Well, maybe that’s it on your side. But I don’t think that’s all he wants.”

  Hope closed the door, and the two of them crossed the lot toward the theater. It seemed very important that Haley understand this. “No, he just asked about being friends. Besides, I saw him with Krista Friday. They were practically kissing.”

  “Oh, Krista wants him all right.” Haley laughed. “She was all over him, but I can tell you he doesn’t care a bit about her. I think he’s into you.”

  Great. That was all Hope needed. More wrath from the she-demon. “Maybe I should just tell him I changed my mind. Maybe I don’t want to be friends.”

  “No. Don’t do that. Tristan was saying that we could go do something together. The four of us. It would be so cool. Please?” Haley batted her lashes.

  Hope laughed. Haley barely had lashes, so it looked like she was blinking something out of her eye. “Fine. But if Athan hits on me, you totally owe me.”

  Haley snorted. “You mean if he doesn’t hit on you . . .”

  They bought their tickets and went in.

  “I don’t think I’ll ever look at pirates the same after those movies. Gods, I would love to be kidnapped by David Arturo. Wouldn’t you?”

  Hope frowned. “That’s sick.”

  “What?” Haley turned to look at her. “Really?”

  “There is nothing sexy about being kidnapped. There’s like a whole syndrome about people who fall in love with their captors.” Hope thought of Priska being tortured somewhere by demigods. “Seriously, that’s messed up.”

  Haley rolled her eyes. “I’m not serious. Well, I am about the David Arturo part, but not pirates. I mean . . . No one really wants to get kidnapped.”

  Hope fiddled with her phone, turning it over and over in her hands. Five missed calls. All from Priska’s number. Five.

  “Can I ask you something?” Hope didn’t know what to do. And she didn’t have anyone else to turn to . . .

  “Sure. As long as you aren’t going to bash on David Arturo.”

  Hope smiled. “No. It’s just . . . My aunt . . . kinda disappeared a month ago.”

  “Kinda disappeared? What does that mean?” Krista gasped. “Oh, gods. Was she kidnapped?”

  Hope’s eyes welled. Tension that had been building for weeks ballooned, and she couldn’t keep it in. She wiped away the tears before they could fall. “I think so. Can . . . can you keep a secret?”

  “I’m such an idiot,” Haley murmured with a face-palm. She took Hope’s sleeve and pulled her to the car. “Of course I can keep a secret. You can tell me anything.”

  They got back in Haley’s blue sedan.

  Once the doors were closed, Hope gave an edited history of her mother dying in a fire, her aunt’s recent disappearance, and the strange phone call. “I don’t know that they’re all related, but . . . What if they are?”

  Haley blew out a breath. “Well, maybe someone was just trying to be nice. I mean, he didn’t threaten you or anything, right?”

  “No. But he’s called like another five times.”

  Haley was silent as if contemplating her answer. Finally, she said, “Well, I’d let it go. Unless you keep getting calls, or if the guy threatens you, or something.”

  It was sound advice. No need to freak out about one more thing.

  “How was your weekend?” Athan asked.

  He stood at Hope’s locker, staring at her. It was the oddest sensation. A mixture of pride and anxiety coursed through her, and she wanted to giggle and run away. “Fine. I hung out with—”

  “Hey, Hope.” Haley bounced up. “How are you?” She smiled at Athan as if just noticing him. As if. She turned back to Hope. “Oh, I was going to ask you, have you had any more phone calls?”

  And so much for secrets.

  “Phone calls?” Athan frowned. “Who’s calling you?”

  Hope rolled her eyes at Haley and answered, “No.” She turned to Athan. “It was nothing. Just a wrong number, but they kept calling back. Kinda freaked me out.”

  Hope snapped her locker shut.

  “You two hung out?” Athan asked, looking back and forth between the two of them.

  “Well, yeah,” Haley said. “That’s what friends do, you know.”

  “Yes, so I’ve heard.” He gave Hope a hard look.

  “What?” she asked him. “We hung out on Friday.” Why was he acting all weird?

  “I bet she didn’t have to coerce you to hang out,” he grumbled.

  The three of them walked down the hall, drawing several stares. It felt like every single person in the hall was watching as they passed. Hope had never felt so conspicuous in her entire life.

  “Of course not,” Haley responded to Athan. “My motives aren’t questionable.”

  Hope laughed and ducked into mythology, but she still heard him . . .

  “There is nothing questionable about my motives, either.”

  “Are we eating lunch or what?” Athan asked. He’d met Hope at her locker right after chemistry, before she had a chance to disappear into the Library.

  Hope pushed down anticipation—if that’s what fluttering in her chest was—and took a deep breath. The commons was out because of the rain. “How about the cafeteria?”

  He nodded. “You got it.”

  He held the door open for her and then led them to the table where Tristan, Lee, Scott, Haley—and Krista—were sitting.

  “Hey, guys,” Athan said, setting his stuff down. “Can we join you?”

  Haley smiled at Hope from the other end of the table, and Tristan scooted his tray over.

  “Yeah, of course,” he said.

  Athan sat next to his friend and patted the seat next to him.

  This was not quite what she’d been thinking, but not knowing what else to do, Hope slid into a chair next to him.

  As soon as she was seated, he stood up and leaned to whisper into her ear, “I’ll be right back. I need to get some food. Stay put.”

  He pushed her hair back, exposing her ear, his hand cupping the back of her neck. Leaning closer, his lips brushed her ear as he spoke. “They’re more scared of you than you are of them.”

  Her head and heart swirled as he walked away. Scared of her? What was there to be scared of? And he shouldn’t be allowed to do that almost-kissing-ear thing. Friends didn’t do that. Did they? She was pretty sure not.

  “So, Hope, what did you do this weekend?”

  Startled, she glanced up to find Tristan studying her expectantly.

  “Uh, homework. Went and saw a movie.”

  “Lame,” Krista muttered from across the table.

  Hope glared at the petite girl.

  “With me!” Haley’s stare shot daggers at Krista until she looked away.

  Hope wanted to say something. Anything. She just needed them to focus on something else. “I heard you guys had a great time down at the river.”

  It worked. Conversation erupted all around her. She tried to stay involved, nodding, smiling, answering questions, and by the time Athan returned, she no longer felt the need to run and hide. It was overwhelming, but . . . nice.

  Tristan was telling her about the observatory when she heard a high-pitched whizzing sound. Something incoming, at high speed . . . Instinctively, she glanced at the sound and c
aught a roll of bread midair just before it hit Athan. The stinging of her hand told her just how fast the roll had been travelling. Someone hooted their approval, and someone else cheered.

  Her stomach churned, and she dropped the roll like it was on fire. That was why she was supposed to stay invisible. Isolated. Not stand out. Not get noticed.

  “Nice catch.” Tristan leaned over and bumped her shoulder.

  “Thanks,” she mumbled, curling in on herself. How could she have been so dumb? That wasn’t normal. Would they put it together?

  “Impressive skills.” Athan picked up the roll as if weighing it.

  “Freak,” Krista spat.

  All Hope could think of to explain her reflexes in the most normal way was, “Twelve years of Tae Kwon Do.”

  No need to mention the supernatural hearing and reflexes.

  “Tae Kwon Do teaches you how to catch?” Tristan asked.

  She shook her head. “No, but it improves hand-eye coordination and reflex time.”

  “Twelve years?” Athan asked, his gaze boring into her.

  She swallowed. “My mom wanted to make sure I could defend myself.”

  When the bell finally rang, Hope threw her barely eaten sandwich away. Without saying anything, she started to her locker. Athan kept pace next to her.

  “Tae Kwon Do, huh?”

  She nodded, wishing he would drop it already.

  “Well, they loved you,” he teased. “You just got twenty new BFFs and a starting position on the football team if you want it.”

  He didn’t get it. Obviously. He seemed to thrive with all the attention he received.

  Hope blew out a breath of frustration. “Yeah, sure,” she said with a shake of her head. “Did you not notice the shade Krista was throwing?”

  “Aww Hope, she’s just jealous. You can’t let her get to you.”

  She scratched at her palms, as if that could erase what had just happened. When Hope parted with Athan in algebra, she slumped into her seat with relief. But he was persistent and caught up with her after Spanish.

  “I’m meeting Tristan in a few minutes, but what are you doing later?” His stride matched hers as they walked toward the lockers.

  “Same old.” There was homework and dinner in the solitude of her quiet home. Far away from the stares of her classmates.

  Haley stood at her locker waiting.

  “Same old is so boring. Let’s hang out.” He bumped her arm.

  Tingles shot up from the contact, and Hope shook her head. “It’s too much.”

  “What?” He tilted her chin so she was forced to meet his eyes.

  “I . . . I don’t know if I can do this. It’s too much.” She was exhausted. All the attention, all the scrutiny . . . It was overwhelming in a way she’d never experienced.

  “You’re too much,” he teased. “See you soon.” He turned and jogged down the hall.

  “So, you gonna hang out with him?” Haley asked as they walked out to the parking lot.

  “I don’t know.” Hope sounded like a broken record. “All of this . . . activity . . .”

  Haley laughed. “Hope, this is normal.”

  “Not for me,” Hope muttered.

  “Where did you live before here? A cave?” Haley twisted her deep-brown hair into a bun. “Seriously, you should hang out with him, or we could do something together.”

  “Tomorrow. I have homework tonight. We can do something tomorrow.”

  Because Hope could not handle one more thing today.

  She still had more than a week before the change. A week that seemed like forever away, and yet every day was a reminder of the time ticking away. And as the time grew closer to the change, the constant reminder that she was different than everyone she hung out with began grating on her. Her curse was a burden, and she resented it more and more every passing day.

  But she pushed it aside, her fear and her worry, because today was going perfectly. It was early afternoon, and they were in her Civic heading south on I-82 to the fish hatchery. Tristan and Haley sat in the back seat, their constant conversation lulling Hope’s nerves. Athan chimed in occasionally, mostly to give her directions.

  Today had been different than any she’d ever had at school. She sat with Haley, Athan, and their friends at lunch and found herself laughing at Tristan’s jokes. Haley invited her to come to the river Thursday night for a bonfire, and Hope contemplated going. Krista had left her alone. There’d been no further phone calls from Priska’s number. And no Skia. If Priska would just let her know she was okay, life would be perfect.

  “You look awfully pleased.”

  Athan’s comment pulled Hope from her reverie. “Oh, just thinking. Are you going to the river Thursday?”

  Part of her wanted to hang out with her new friends, and she recognized the shift. She was even referring to them as her friends.

  “Do you want to go?” he asked.

  Unwilling to commit, Hope mumbled, “Maybe.”

  The revelation that she’d settled enough to have friends was a bit disconcerting. It warred with what she’d been told over and over: connections were to be avoided. At some point, she would have to move, and . . . She didn’t want to leave.

  “I think you’ll have a great time if we go, but I’ll leave it up to you.”

  She caught his wording, and her heart fluttered. She would deal with leaving later. Once Priska came back.

  They pulled off the freeway, and Hope followed signs to the Bonneville Fish Hatchery.

  Hope looked out the window, assessing the surroundings. She could see picnic tables, benches, and a water fountain from the car. Trees and shrubs lined the concrete landscape; small pink petals floated in the breeze.

  “How did you know about this place?” she asked as they walked past a couple industrial pools.

  The group wandered down a path that wound alongside a natural-looking creek and several smaller ponds. The flowers bloomed in white, pink, and lavender. The smell from the blossoms mixed with the scents of the nearby river and the large pine trees. Overhead, small birds chirped.

  Haley laughed. “Seriously, this isn’t really a dude kinda place.”

  “Oh, I asked Scott what there is to do around Goldendale.”

  “Scott?” Surprise was written all over Haley’s face.

  Tristan chuckled. “Scott loves to fish. They have monster sturgeon here.”

  “Come on.” Athan gave Hope’s arm a little tug further down the path.

  Hope could only stare when she first saw them. She had no idea that fish in a river could be so big and so ugly. They reminded her of the picture of catfish that she’d found in an encyclopedia when she was younger.

  “Can you believe that Poseidon created that?” Athan leaned against the glass tank, looking at Hope.

  “It’s disgusting,” Haley said, wrinkling her nose. She turned to Tristan. “Let’s go feed the fish. I saw fish food thingies . . .”

  The two of them wandered off.

  Hope continued to stare at the glass window. The gray fish circled through the tank, coming through the murky water to pass the glass every few minutes. She thought of Athan’s statement, hung up on his mention of Poseidon. Since starting public school, Hope rarely heard anyone mention the gods outside of a curse or a plea for a blessing. Athan seemed well versed in all their mythological history.

  “It’s like a giant albino catfish.” She stepped up to the glass and tapped on it as the large fish swam past.

  Despondency gripped her heart, a pity for wild creatures held within strict confines, their freedom limited by someone more powerful. Was it any different for the fish than it was for her?

  A soft pressure at the small of her back brought her attention to the present. Athan stood beside her, his hand grounding her in the moment.

  He stared into the tank and asked, “It’s sad, don’t you think?”

  It was like he was feeling the same thing she was. “Do you ever feel like that?”

  “Trapped?�
� He turned to face her; his eyebrows furrowed then released. “Do you feel trapped?”

  She swallowed and bit her lip. Hedging, she responded with, “Doesn’t everybody sometimes?”

  He pinned her with his gaze, and the rest of the world disappeared.

  “You didn’t answer my question,” he whispered.

  Hope crossed her arms over her chest and set her chin in what her mom would call her defensive jut. Something deep in her wanted to avoid exposing vulnerability. Was that wrong? “I asked first.”

  “Fair enough.” He laughed, relaxing back onto the glass. The smile still played on his lips as he said, “Yes. Sometimes I feel very trapped.”

  She exhaled, releasing her tension. Maybe he wouldn’t judge her too harshly after all. “Me too.”

  The light in his eyes dimmed, and he took a deep breath. “I didn’t want this to be such a downer. Come on, let’s go feed the trout.”

  He took her hand and led her from the sturgeon tank. Stopping at a vending machine, he fed coins into it, filling their hands with little brown pellets of fish food.

  Her mood lifted as she tossed the stinky bits into the ponds and streams. Silver-sided fish slid over each other as they came to the surface, their mouths opening wide as they gulped the small particles of food.

  It was peaceful, with just the occasional splash from the fish, the sun warming her through her dark sweater. For one minute everything was right.

  “Penny for your thoughts?” Athan nudged her with his elbow.

  “You’ll feel ripped off,” she warned him. “It’s peaceful here.”

  She brushed off her palms over the water.

  Hope and Athan watched as the trout slid back into the darkness and the water calmed. They walked through the park, and when they didn’t see their friends, they went back to the entrance.

  “Hey, guys!” Tristan yelled. “Are you almost done? We’re starving.”

  He stood by the storage ponds in front of the gift shop. Haley sat on a picnic table out by the parking lot.

  She held her hands out as if begging. “Please . . . I’m dying . . . I . . . must . . . have . . . food.”

  The sun disappeared behind a cloud, and a chill blew in on the breeze.

 

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