Curse of the Sphinx

by Raye Wagner

  She nodded. It was so unfair. He was being such a stickler to the rules. And it wasn’t like she wasn’t doing well in her classes. She was getting straight As.

  Jerk.

  “That will be all, Miss Treadwell.”

  Her frustration pulsed, but there was no release. Nothing she could do.

  So she went to algebra.

  “I’m glad you caught up.” Mr. Romero took her assignment and set it on his desk. “We’re moving on to quadratic equations this week, and I’d hate for you to get behind.”

  She nodded and went to her desk. The room filled in the minutes before the bell. Hope bowed her head and focused on the numbers and letters in her book. A tapping on her desk drew her focus, but she kept her head down.

  “Are you okay?”

  She glanced up into Athan’s green eyes. He smiled, and she noticed a scab the size of a quarter on his cheek, like the skin had been rubbed off but hadn’t quite healed.

  “You missed school last week.”

  “I was sick.” Why was he talking to her?

  “I heard. But you’re better now?”

  She couldn’t help the furrow. “Uh, yeah. That’s why I’m back at school.”

  His hands were scratched up, too, and he looked tired.

  “What happened to you?” The question slipped out, and she had no idea where it came from.

  He chuckled. “Why Hope, I never thought you’d ask.”

  She wanted to laugh at him, but the blush burned at the rational part of her brain.

  “Whatever,” she managed and turned away.

  “I’m fine. I had a little misunderstanding, but things are resolved now.” The tips of his fingers brushed her forearm.

  She flinched. “Did you start that rumor?”

  Athan’s brow pulled down. “What rumor?”

  Had he not heard? “Uh, about you and, uh, me hanging out.” Could a blush kill you? She could feel it all the way down to her toes.

  He smiled. “Maybe we should.”

  Halfway through class, Athan brushed by, dropping a note on her lap.

  She unfolded the paper and read: What about dinner tonight?

  Her hands clenched, crumpling it into a ball. What the Hades? He was with Stacie, right? Why would he even be asking?

  Hope was the first one up when class was dismissed. She dropped the wad of paper into the garbage on the way out the door.

  Twenty-one days until the change

  “YOU’RE STARING AT him again,” Haley said.

  Hope dropped her head into her locker and grabbed her chemistry book.

  “What happened? I mean, you look seriously hacked, like he stole your last cookie or something.”

  “Nothing.” She slammed the locker closed. “It’s whatever. He’s a total ’taur.”

  “Did you just call him a ’taur, as in Minotaur? Gods, Hope, you’re so weird.”

  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.”

  Haley shook her head. “I’m so going to ask Tristan. What if you’re wrong?”

  The bell rang.

  “Crap. I can’t be late again. I’ll see you in Spanish, ’kay?”

  Hope nodded.

  She wasn’t wrong.

  THAT NIGHT THE cool night air wicked the heat from her body. She turned left on Columbia for another loop around the town.

  The sun had set hours ago, and the street lights cast an eerie glow in the shape of hourglasses on the ground. With the waxing moon, the night was bright.

  It had been twenty-two days since Priska had 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 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.

  His eyes narrowed.

  Her muscles tensed. Her breathing became shallow and her heart raced.

  She blinked, and . . .

  He was gone.

  What the Hades?

  She swallowed down her panic, and stepped up to the shadow he’d been under.

  Nothing.

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

  Nineteen days until the change

  “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. She’d seen the two 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.”

  But if they weren’t together, then why was Stacie on his lap?

  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.

  Thud!

  “Easy there.” Warm hands gripped her arms to steady her, and she looked up into dark-green eyes. “You all right?” Athan stepped forward even as he continued to hold her in place.

  “Yeah. Sorry.” She stepped back, but his hands prevented her from getting very far.

  “You’re not hurt, are you?”

  She snorted. “Uh, no.” She looked down at his hands, still holding her arms.

  “Right.” His hands dropped.

  Krista and Angela gushed out of the room.

  “Oh my gods! Could you be more clumsy, Hope?” Krista rolled her eyes. “She practically ran you over, Athan. So lame.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder, the ends whipping Hope in the face.

  “Sorry about that,” Hope mumbled.

  “No need to apologize.” Athan frowned. “I should have been more careful, too.”

  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 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. “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.”

  She shook her head and kept her gaze down. “Go away, Athan. Find someone else to annoy. We aren’t friends.” The words hissed from her mouth.

  He dropped his hand. “I am not your enemy. And maybe, someday, you will see just how much I would like to be your friend.”

  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 d
ragging, 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 the gushing between 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 flipped her hair. “Guess what I heard?”

  There was a dramatic pause.

  “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.”

  There was silence.

  “Anytime. Mmm. This weekend is my chance.”

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

  “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.”

  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?

  She 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.” His voice was light. “How are you today?” The intensity of his gaze was incongruous with his tone.

  He was talking to her again? “Fine.”

  “Hmm. Okay.” His gazed from her eyes to her lips and back again. “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. “No, I’m not.” Not that you should even care. Her eyes narrowed. “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. “Hope . . .” His eyes searched hers.

  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. She grabbed her algebra book and headed to the library.

  “So he’s talking to you again?” Haley sat in the library with Hope. “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 she 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. “What about you and Tristan?”

  “Oh, man.” Haley took the bait and flopped back into her seat. “He’s all nice and everything, even wants to meet at the river tomorrow, but here at school he acts like were 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.

  Hope giggled, but stopped when she looked back at Haley.

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

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

  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 totally ostentatious.

  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 familiar but forgotten pulled at her heart, and for a brief moment she wanted to join him.

  Twelve days until the change

  HOPE WOKE 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, she didn’t wait to see if there was a response. It wasn’t that she didn’t want Priska to rescue her. But after a month, she 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.

  Her chest tightened. “No thanks. I’m enjoying the walk.”

  “Of course.” His shoulders dropped. “It’s a nice morning. See you at school.”

  “Sure. See you.” She stepped back on the sidewalk. Weird.

  Minutes later, she bounded up the steps of the school, not even aware of the smile that played on her lips.

  She walked toward her locker, but stopped in the middle of the hall when she saw Athan . . . and Krista. For a moment, she thought they were kissing. Krista’s back was against the lockers, and Athan’s hands framed her face.

  She wanted to throw something.

  But then, he could flirt with whomever he wanted. It didn’t matter to her. She’d turned down a ride from him that same morning.

  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.

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

  Surely, she wasn’t talking about Athan. But Hope knew otherwise. Her heart pounded a desperate plea that the girl would be struck by a stray lightning bolt.

  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 up into her cheeks. “Nothing,” Hope said.

  “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 her 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,” came out 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.

  Hope shoved her binder and book into her bag. She had to get out fast before she lost it. As she hurried out the door, someone shoved her.

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

&n
bsp; Something inside her solidified with a snap. Hope lowered her head till she was looking Krista in the eye. “Back off. Now.”

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

  “Only if you, like, value your life.” She tossed her head back and forth, mocking Krista’s ditziness. “Like, seriously, like.” She dropped her voice to a growl and narrowed her eyes. “Seriously. Back. Off.”

  Krista’s small hand whipped back and slapped Hope across the face.

  Before the sting fully registered, Hope caught Krista’s hand and ducked under her arm, twisting the girl’s hand up and behind. She 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.” 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’s head bobbed.

  Hope pushed her away and strode down the hall. But she could hear the curses ringing 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 couldn’t 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, I spent some real time finding this one. I think you’ll like it.” He concentrated, and 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?”