by Clea Hantman
“Yes, yes, it was, and we should all be proud.” Polly had only a touch of patronizing in her voice.
Rrrrring. Rrring. Rrring.
We all looked at each other. It seemed to be coming from the thing on the wall Hermes had called an air conditioner. Oh, wait. No, that’s the big box that shakes. This ringing thing was a phone.
Rrring. Rrring.
Our phone had only rung twice before. Both times it turned out to be people we hadn’t met yet. The first person asked to talk to someone named José, and the other time they asked if I was interested in buying a subscription to Sports Illustrated. I’d asked for three. Claire had asked me for my phone number, but since I didn’t know it, I just told her we didn’t have a phone. That my host parents didn’t believe in them.
Rrring. Rrring.
I went to the phone and picked it up. I heard someone in the distance saying, “Hello.”
My sisters watched me, wide-eyed. They’d never picked up the phone before. I fumbled with the banana-shaped thing, saying hello back till the voice came in clearly.
“Hello, is everything okay?” said the voice.
“Um, I dunno?” I asked.
“What?” said the voice.
“Never mind, um, who is this?”
“Hello, this is, um, Dylan from Denver. Is this Thalia?”
“Yes. Um, how did you do this, um, I mean, how, no, um, hello.” I looked at my sisters, who were both completely confused and impatiently awaiting word of who was on the other end.
“Hello, Thalia. I’m calling because I would like to ask you to dinner tomorrow night, Saturday.”
“I told you, Dylan, I’m not interested.” My sisters were looking at me with eyes the size of saucers and huge grins on their faces. Era even stood up from excitement.
“But Thalia,” said the voice, “I really think once you get to know me, you will see that I’m quite charming. Just give me a chance.”
“Um, look, I told you, I have a boyfriend back home.”
Now my sisters’ eyes got even wider, if that was possible. They were holding back laughter. Era came over and tried to listen in.
“Look,” he said, “I’m not sure, but I feel our pairing on this project was some sort of fateful happen-stance. I feel a connection to you. I know you feel something. Plus you are totally adorable. Just have dinner with me.”
I was blushing. And hoping that this phone thing only betrayed my voice and not my face. But still. I wasn’t here on earth to meet boys, fall in love, or have dinner. And besides, I wouldn’t admit it, but I felt that just by talking to Dylan, I was somehow cheating on Apollo. Crazy but true.
“Look, can’t we just leave it at ‘I don’t hate you’ and move on?” I said. And then before he could say another word, another totally charming word, I said, “Have a great weekend, I don’t hate you, um, bye,” and I put the banana thing back on the phone.
“What was that about?!” cried my sisters in unison.
“Oh, it was that boy, Dylan from Denver. The one I’m paired up with for that film project.” I think I had a half-smile, half-worried look on my face.
“So, what did he want, dinner?” said Era, her shoulders all bunched up, her hands at her face in pure delight.
“Yeah, I dunno, I guess he wanted to get together. Crazy, huh?”
“No, it’s not crazy. You’re beautiful and funny and perfect. So what’s he like?” asked Era, all aflutter.
“He’s okay. At first I thought he was like this total freaky jock, I mean, he wears his football uniform every day! But he’s actually, well, he’s kind of funny. I don’t want to laugh at his silly jokes or his goofy behavior…but I do. I don’t want to think he’s cute…but I do. But hello, if we were to kiss, like would he still be wearing that huge helmet? Or would he take it off?”
“You’ve thought about kissing him!” said Era, more like a statement than a question.
“No!” I screamed. “Not exactly, at least. I don’t know. It’s wrong. I mean, Apollo.”
“Yeah, you mean that guy you changed yourself into a green slimy pile of snakes to get out of marrying?” Polly said.
“And the guy you said you were only friends with?” Era added.
“Well, yes. Well. It’s not that easy to explain, and you know it.”
“Earth boys are cuter,” said Era.
“Not cuter than Apollo,” Polly argued.
“Anyway.” All this Apollo talk was making me feel a bit queasy. “This guy, he’s not exactly of this earth,” I said, but I didn’t know what I meant.
“It sounds like you like him,” Era said with a giggle.
“No, no, it doesn’t. It sounds like he’s my school partner. For four more days and then no more. Then it sounds like he’s someone I go to school with. Just someone I sorta know.”
For the first couple of weeks we were here, I slept in the bathtub in the bathroom since on top of everything else, Daddy forgot to get us a three-room house instead of a two-room one. But after a while Era took pity on me and let me move into her room. This was where I retreated to now. I didn’t like how this conversation was going.
And anyway, I needed some quiet time with my shoes.
TEN
I didn’t admit it to my sisters, but Dylan from Denver stayed in the back of my mind all weekend. And so did Apollo. I thought about how they were alike (they’re both strong and so funny) and how in so many ways they were different (Apollo is bullish and stubborn, and Dylan’s just plain goofy). And then I spent hours trying to not think about either one. After a morning marathon of Cops on the TV, I decided it was time to stir up a little adventure of my own. I thought the first place to look was this room off the house. I’d heard it referred to on TV as a garage.
We’d avoided it until now. It was dark and musty and had spiderwebs. I hate spiders, and my sisters hate them even more. Still, I thought I’d brave it in hopes of finding something good amid the boxes. There was so much stuff in this room. I could only assume it belonged to the previous owners, left behind for someone else to clean up. There were boxes upon boxes of unidentified junk. I was hoping there would be a bicycle in here. Polly just refused to let me go back to that Mart store and get one. Somehow she’d become queen of the credit card and all the cash. Which seemed pretty ridiculous to me, considering we had an unlimited supply of money.
After going through countless bags and even more boxes (and seeing numerous unnecessary items…a chicken with a clock in its belly? A painting of a single lemon?), I still had found no bike. But I found the next-best thing. I had heard it referred to alternately as a board and a skateboard, but I just knew it was my new toy.
I ran outside with my beat-up board to try and use it on the road in front of the house. Daddy had granted the world a beautiful day. The sun was shining. The air was warm but breezy, and it smelled like flowers and grass and pavement. Grinning, I threw down my board, jumped on, and the board went flying forward while I landed sharply on my butt. It was great!
I knew I could master it if I just took a little time. I’m a natural at most sports, won the Junior Stellar Sky Skiing championship three years in a row. So I ran after the board, placed it more gingerly on the ground in front of me, and stood on it. Steady. Good. Then I propelled myself with the one foot while balancing myself on the other. Down the street I went. After just twenty minutes I could fly off the curb with two feet firmly on the board. Now, this was the most excitement I’d had in a very long time.
I figured I was doing pretty well, so I tried this move I saw a girl do in the school quad. I kicked the back of the board hard and flipped it all the way around and landed on it.
I fell on my butt. Hard. But it didn’t matter. It was thrilling, downright exhilarating. I got up and did it again. And again. And again.
I skated around and around and up the driveway and off the curb and around the corner and back.
I had started to concentrate on the flips again when the board seemed to come to life. It
felt like it had a mind of its own. It came out from under me with tremendous force and shot straight ahead, like Hercules tossing a discus, and went deep and straight into this large evergreen bush.
Then the bush made a loud, deep, “Yowww!” Talking bushes, oh, my!
I had begun to apologize profusely to Mr. Bush when I spotted an upside-down 15. I looked closer to find a football-pants-clad butt pointing straight at the sky. Dylan was sort of hanging there, dangling from the back side of the bush. I mentally took back all my apologies.
Then I noticed our camera, just hanging on the tallest, tippiest, tiniest branch, and it was about to break. I panicked. My grade! My life! I jumped up to try to get it but only knocked it loose. The camera came tumbling down the side of the bush. I made a dive for it but missed. Then Dylan’s large hand punched through the bush and caught it, just inches from the ground, in the nick of time.
I screamed. He screamed. We all screamed.
“Where did you come from?” I shouted.
“Ow, are you trying to kill me?” he asked.
“Are you trying to stalk me?”
“Huh?” He looked dazed and wobbly. Yet he had managed to catch the camera. Impressive, considering the massive tumble he’d taken.
“What are you doing here, anyway? I told you, I don’t want to go out. I told you I would see you in school,” I said, sounding a little harsher than I felt.
“You don’t have to be mean,” he said, getting up off the ground and shaking the twigs out of his hair. He had a small scrape across his perfect nose.
“And you don’t have to follow me around everywhere I go,” I retorted.
“Following you? Following you? Why, I’m out filming the sights and sounds of our fair town. There’s lots of excitement on your very own Castalia Way.”
“Lots of excitement? On our street? I don’t think so.” Our street was just a collection of quiet, cute little houses, green lawns, and front porches.
“It’s true, and I’m not talking about your incredible skating abilities.”
“Hey. That was sarcasm—I’d recognize it anywhere.”
“Don’t you like sarcasm, Thalia, and teasing?”
“Hardly.”
“Hardly?”
“Yes, hardly. See, you think you know me, but you don’t,” I said.
“Ah, well, in that case, would you like me to let you in on the excitement on Castalia Way?”
“I don’t care, whatever. Sure.”
“Your neighbors, Mr. and Mrs. Hall, are the proud owners of a dragon.”
“Yeah, so,” I said, but the fact was, I was all aflutter inside. We had giants back home. Monsters, too. And I’d heard a story or two about Daddy battling a dragon or three, but I’d never actually seen one with my very own eyes.
“I just thought you’d get a kick out of it, that’s all. Apparently it’s a variety called a Komodo dragon and it’s totally illegal to own one.”
“Yeah…dragons…huh?”
“And it can eat a whole pig in one sitting. And I’m sure it will spit fire. Maybe it can fly! You want to join me? I’m going over there to check it out.”
“Nah, I’m busy.” But I wasn’t. And I wanted to see a real, live dragon. Maybe after he was gone, I thought. Yes, later. I could wait.
“Suit yourself,” he said, and turned and walked away, the smile still on his face.
“Stalker!” I called after him with a small smile.
“Coward!” he called back to me. With a smile, but did it matter?
I picked up my board and headed back to the house. But try as I might, I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face. Dylan’s excitement over the fun side of life was adorable, even if it was infuriating.
And he pushed my buttons better than…better than…oh, rats! Maybe better than even Apollo.
Thalia and Dylan, well, isn’t that nice?
We’d love it if our hearts weren’t colder than ice.
But since we are evil, our plan must go on,
We will not settle till Dylan is gone.
In the meantime, though, we have deeds we must do
Because from the bushes we’ve seen what we want to:
That Dylan, while godly, is a bit of a klutz,
Now all we need is to make him mess up.
What we have in store will do two jobs in one,
And all will be ruined, oh, isn’t it fun?
Dylan will destroy his chance with his mate,
And Thalia will fail, yes, that is her fate!
The girls will be banished to Hades for sure,
And those simpering Muses will plague us no more!
ELEVEN
Era here. So yes, I admit it, it wasn’t the brightest idea to take this class. On Sunday, when I could have been in my best frilly nightgown, deep under the covers of my fluffy bed, I instead found myself outside, running for what seemed like eternity in the rain. No, not just rain, a dramatic downpour. I wore clothes that only Thalia would be caught dead in—baggy pants meant for sweating and those shoes with no pretty points or tiny heels—they were horrible. My “sneakers” were soaked through and squeaked with every painful step I took. And Josh, well, Josh hadn’t looked at me once the whole time. It’s no wonder—I was soaked to my insides, and my hair was flatter than a nymph’s in Hades. I missed the Beautorium!
The tall trees around us blocked any possible small bits of sunlight that might have been able to squeak through the rain clouds, so it was just dark, which only made it feel colder. And you know what, it was uphill! Josh had said the first part was flat, but it wasn’t.
Some of the more serious kids were ahead, and Polly and I were back in the last pack of students, struggling to keep up. Everyone was silent. All I could hear was the roar of the wind echoing against the trees.
“I can’t…do it…. I can’t…run…anymore,” Polly said very quietly through short, deep breaths.
“Me neither,” I said, and we fell behind the last group in an instant. We began to walk.
“I…hate…you,” she said, barely.
“Fine, I don’t care. Your own fault. Allergic to paint,” I said. “Hey…do you have a mirror…in your pack?”
“What? I’m dying over here, and you want a mirror? Are you insane?”
“No, I just have a gift,” I said.
“Excuse me?”
“I can see the beautiful in a bad situation. The beautiful in this situation is, well, if I can get a mirror and a little mousse and maybe a towel, is, um, me.”
“Grrrrrgrgrrgrgrgrhhhh!” My sister had let out one of those primal wails, the kind that would be perfectly acceptable in, say, the Peloponnesian Forests, but here, in the empty wooded lot behind Nova High, was totally and completely unacceptable. You’d think she would have had her earthly etiquette down by now.
“Polly, please, no yelling,” I said.
“No one can hear us, Era, we’ve fallen behind the crowd. We’re in the forest. It’s raining and windy. And we’re going to fail! Ggggrrrhhhhhhhhh!”
“So, do you have a mirror, maybe a hairbrush?”
“Era, my silly, vain sister, my mystically blind little sister, do you have any idea how infuriating you are? Do you understand the consequences of failure?”
“You don’t have to call me names.”
“Era, listen to me and listen good.” She stopped walking, and I broke into a slow jog to keep up. “Your priorities are haywire. We are in the pouring rain, on the weekend, running for what seems like all eternity, failing one of our classes because you, you thought another random boy cute. So cute that you would join a class you have no desire in taking, a class that you have no business being in, a class that goes against your very nature, your very being, your…very…soul.”
My hair clung to my face for dear life. Polly’s just looked like it weighed her down, her shoulders slouched toward the ground. We began to walk again. “I didn’t sign you up for this class. For that, you can only blame yourself.”
“No,
I can blame you,” she said, practically hyper-ventilating. “I can blame you because once again, I have to take care of my sisters….” But before she had even finished the last s in sisters, she knew. I didn’t have to say it.
But I did, anyway.
“Take care of your sisters, huh? Well, I see you, too, have learned a lot here on earth. Because that is the one old habit you are supposed to be correcting.”
She looked solemn. Beaten down. Utterly exhausted and totally distressed. I felt horrible. She then said, “You’re right. How can I criticize you for falling back into your old ways when I, too, surrender so easily to my nasty habits?”
“Right. See. Now, let’s stop fighting. Do you have a mirror or not?”
“Oh my goddess! You are insufferable! At least I realize the error of my ways, but you, you, you!”
“Look, Pol, Daddy didn’t tell me not to care how I looked, he told me to not blindly follow others. And face it, I didn’t blindly follow anyone into this class—and who says this class won’t be good for me and teach me a little discipline? That is what it’s about, right?”
Polly shrugged.
“No, that was a real question. See, I think that’s the point of the class, but I’m not sure. I wasn’t paying attention when Josh gave us that lecture the other day. I mean, his eyes are like the same color as the sky back home, and, well, he did mention something about discipline, right?”
“Eyyyyahhhhhhhh!” Another scream from Pol. Only this time Mr. Josh Hawkins was on his way to check on the back of the pack, aka us, and he heard her. He hightailed it in our direction. I tried my best to fix my hair without a mirror.
“Girls, what are you doing? Move it, ten hut! I need to see some action here!”
“So, Coach, that’s an awfully nice shirt you’re wearing, and your hair, it looks so good, even in this rain,” I said.
“You’re kidding me, right? Save the drama for your mama, girls, and let’s get a move on. Neither one of you is taking this class seriously, and your attitudes better change right here, right now, pronto, do you read me? I will not hesitate to give you both a failing grade. Now let’s pick up those legs and move it, move it, move it!”
