Arrows

by Melissa Gorzelanczyk

  “Phoebe…,” I said, and sank against the cushions.

  She was there, laughing at something Chaz had said. Life had gone on at home, making it clear: I had to stay on Earth. Someone actually needed me here. Karma’s life wasn’t a game to me.

  “I know a secret,” Tek said suddenly.

  “Yeah, you and everyone else at home.”

  He squinted. “You know the story about how your father left Psyche, didn’t want to be tied down, all that?”

  I stared.

  “Well,” Tek continued. “As you know, your mom has been living in the country outside Mount Olympus since the split. What you don’t know is that your dad forced her to hide there. With Aleth.”

  “Forced her? And who’s Aleth?”

  “Her lover. Now you know. Your mom left Eros for Aleth.”

  I frowned. “That’s believable.”

  “Aren’t you curious?” He stretched his hands, the video appearing for a second, leaving an orb of light in my eyesight. “Aren’t you wondering how on earth your own mother broke the arrow’s spell?”

  A chill spread over my skin. He was radiating light, a smirk on his face. “There’s no way she broke the spell,” I said.

  “Unless the lead arrows still exist.”

  “Dad ordered Hephaestus to destroy that formula hundreds of years ago. They’re all gone.”

  “Okay. If you say so. I just thought, given the fact that you’re still enjoying the luxuries of your little mission, you might like to know.”

  “Why would Dad shoot my mother with a lead arrow? That makes no sense.”

  “Maybe she used one on herself.”

  “No. She wouldn’t.”

  “Maybe love isn’t as sacred as you’ve been led to believe.” His presence had the faint odor of something burning, the scent thick in my lungs. “Forget the mission. You could leave tonight.”

  “Yeah, good idea.” Fear was a machine that hummed in my ears. “You’re just full of good ideas and stories, aren’t you?” The thought of failing Karma paralyzed me. “What have I been thinking all this time? I’ll just leave.”

  Tek reached into his pocket and held out a square item the size of a postage stamp. Light shimmered through it in waves. “Take it.”

  “Not sure what that is, but no thanks.”

  “It’s a chip. Dissolves instantly under your tongue.” He pressed it into my hand, where it felt twice as heavy as it looked. “Use it and you’ll be a god again. All you have to do is pop it in.”

  “I think you better go.” I stood and took a step sideways. The corners of the chip dug into my palm when I squeezed. But then I hesitated. I was used to gods and goddesses trying to get close to me for the sake of their own power, and now the benefit could be mutual. “Are you sure the chip will work?” I asked slowly.

  “Yes. As soon as you’re home I’ll know, and I’ll help you with everything.”

  “Then why don’t you give Phoebe a chip? Save her from Blackout.”

  Tek grinned. “Done. Phoebe’s already safe. Things don’t always have to be so complicated.”

  I stared at Tek, a guy no older than me, who had somehow worked his way into all the gods’ secrets. He stood there, waiting, confidence licking through his skin and clothing like voltage.

  Hope unwound inside me.

  “Bring me a lead arrow.”

  I couldn’t hide the storm from my face when I threw my dance bag into the cubby. Three days later and once again I’d come to rehearsal alone.

  “Uh-oh.” Peyton strode toward the entry and peered over my shoulder as I rummaged around for my dance clothes. “Did Danny bail again? Oh jeez, he did, didn’t he?” She hugged me.

  “He’s got a lot of homework,” I said, like I was some kind of robot reading Danny’s stupid text out loud.

  Peyton scrunched her mouth. “We all have homework.” She sat before me in lotus pose as I changed. “But we’re here.”

  “I know.” My clothes slammed into my bag. “I know, and I don’t know what I should do. I’m so mad, and I don’t even know how to tell him I’m mad. I’m…hopeless.”

  “Aw, don’t say that. Just tell him he’s out. Aaryn would probably do it again. Tell Danny to go frick himself.” She pointed to my knee.

  “How? He’s on some kind of power trip about Aaryn after the fight and everything. How do I tell him this isn’t okay without him thinking I just want to spend more time with Aaryn or something stupid like that?”

  “He should have come to rehearsal if he cared so much.”

  The spandex snapped into place. “I’m calling Aaryn. You’re right. This scholarship means everything to me.”

  More than Danny? No…or maybe it did, just in a different way. A way he certainly didn’t understand. Peyton hugged me again. “He’ll get over it.”

  “Come on, girls,” Juliette called. “Time to get to work.” She beckoned us forward.

  “I’ll be right back.” I grabbed my phone and scraped the changing stall curtain closed. I punched the buttons to get rid of Danny’s text, which was still blazing when the screen came on.

  Aaryn answered after the second ring.

  “Of course I’ll still help,” he said, and it was the best thing and the worst thing, and all I could do was sit on the plank seat and say thanks.

  “Hey,” Aaryn said.

  “Yeah?”

  “Things are going to get better, okay?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Just trust me—everything will get better.”

  I scooted into the corner of the changing stall. It was dark in there, with a thin line of light along the bottom of the curtain. “You’re acting weird,” I said.

  “I know.”

  —

  I drove to Dmitri’s after rehearsal so Danny and I could talk, because of course he was there, “doing homework.” My muscles ached, my eyes, my voice, at the thought of arguing with him again.

  “So.” I killed the car engine once Danny slid into the passenger seat. No point in wasting gas. He smelled faintly of cigarettes. “Um. Look. I need a reliable dance partner.” Little chills coursed through me, like I couldn’t believe I was being honest about how I felt. Then, through the window of the shack, I swear I saw Jen peek out. “Is…” I leaned toward the steering wheel. “Wait, is Jen here?”

  “Uh, not that I know of.”

  I kept my gaze glued to the square of light. Dmitri’s piece-of-crap couch was empty in the background. After many awkward seconds of silence, and a war going on in my head over what to do, I unbuckled.

  “Okay. It’s fine if he does the dance,” Danny said. His voice seemed too loud. “I’m sorry, I should have been there for you. I understand that you need someone who has more time for something like that.”

  He took my hand and drew me close for a kiss, a long kiss, but all I could think about was how I needed to go inside and prove that I wasn’t going crazy. Jen had been there. My heart pounded in my ears as he pulled me farther and farther from the door. I tore my mouth away. “I saw Jen. She’s here, isn’t she?”

  “Babe. What?” He had a shocked expression, his eyes darting all round. “It’s just us guys in there. Bros before hoes, you know how we roll.”

  “Bros before hoes?” My eyebrows couldn’t go down any farther.

  Then my phone started buzzing. Great. Mom was calling, probably because she was having a hard time putting Nell down. Nell always slept better after she knew I was home.

  “Why don’t we plan a date for the weekend?” Danny said. “That would be fun, right?” My phone stopped, then started again.

  “Yes, okay. I could use a break.”

  “Love ya, babe.” He jumped up, slammed the door, and took his time wandering back to the shack, little glances my way. Almost as if he was guarding something.

  Two weeks later I loaded enough suitcases and baby gear into Juliette’s rented van to survive an apocalypse.

  “I wish I could be there,” Mom said. The sun ha
dn’t even risen yet. Four in the morning and we were all up except Nell, who slept in her car seat.

  “I know,” I said. “But Grandma needs you.” My grandmother, who lived two hours north, had taken a fall earlier that week, which meant Mom was the only daughter available to stay with her for a couple days after she was discharged. We hugged. She felt soft in her oversized sweatshirt. She felt like home.

  “I’ll send pictures,” I said.

  “I’m so proud of you.” Mom’s voice trembled in my ear. “You’re a good girl, Karma.”

  “Mom. Stop it.”

  “I’m serious! I know I don’t tell you enough.”

  I lifted Nell’s carrier. “Make Leah help you.”

  “She said she’s really busy this weekend,” Mom said.

  “I know what she said.” I also knew a lot about what girls said when they were planning to party without their parent knowing. I trudged into the back of the van and Nell woke up immediately.

  “Coffee,” Peyton yawned, one row up.

  “Here, have a drink of mine.” I handed her my to-go mug and stuck my head out the van door. “Bye, Mom. I’m serious about making Leah go with you.”

  “Good luck.” She was teary-eyed, and I had to admit my throat felt small. I ducked in to avoid a cry-fest. Really, though. It was a big moment for our family. We had survived a lot of hard times, maybe not gracefully, but we had. I had. This time Nell would be at my competition, both my joy and my burden. I sighed and wiggled a pacifier against her mouth.

  Juliette headed for Aaryn’s apartment, our final stop before we got on the road. The van was a utility type, boxy with a door that didn’t close itself.

  “I want Aaryn to sit by me,” Svetlana whispered, turning so just we girls would hear. I glanced at the empty spot to my right. Oh well.

  His hair was still wet from a shower when the van door whirred open.

  “Good morning,” he said. He sounded way too cheerful.

  “There’s room up front,” Svetlana said, patting the seat next to her enthusiastically.

  “I’m good.” He edged in next to me, brushing against my arm. “Are you ready for this?”

  “I should be asking you the same question.”

  He offered me a granola bar.

  “Thanks.” I tore the wrapper and crumbs spilled onto my lap. I shook the carrier gently to soothe Nell as I tried a bite.

  “Are you nervous?” I asked. A piece of oatmeal stuck to my lip.

  “Yeah.” He chomped his bar in half. “Aren’t you?”

  “I’m always nervous until I feel the stage.” We were at the stop sign where Main Street met the highway. “Once I’m up there, I’m ready.”

  “I wish I had your confidence.”

  “You’ll do great.”

  He sat back and our arms touched more, and after we pulled onto the highway everyone in the van fell asleep.

  We made it to Milwaukee before nine-thirty a.m. Since it was too early to check in to our hotel, we unloaded our gear at the front of the Milwaukee Dance Studio. The street was alive with movement. Dancers, parents, and coaches swarmed toward the double doors.

  “I have to change Nell’s diaper,” I said. The city was white noise: people walking by on their cell phones, motors whirring in buildings and cars. There were no birds in sight. I always thought opportunity lived in those sounds, so much more than the country sounds of Lakefield. “I’ll be back.”

  Everyone around me carried dance gear, while I threaded my way to the restroom with my baby in my arms, diaper bag on my shoulder. Nell smelled like poop.

  Then I saw a sign outside two enormous doors that read Leona Barrett Scholarship and hesitated for a better look. My gaze panned the room the way a movie camera circles a truly amazing place. The stage was dotted with spotlights. Rows and rows of black folding chairs had been set up in front. My audience.

  “Look at that,” I said, edging Nell close. “Mommy’s going to perform up there. Isn’t it beautiful?”

  She seemed to understand, and stared in awe like me. Several dancers milled around the room, some of them practicing, others with headphones on. Nell gurgled to whoever cared to listen.

  “Oh yeah?” I said. She yawn-cooed a reply. Okay, diaper time.

  A line of girls waited outside the bathroom, but lucky for us there was no line for the baby-changing station. I switched Nell’s diaper as fast as I could, dabbing a little cream on her butt, and met up with the others in the hall.

  “I brought the rest of your stuff,” Aaryn said, patting the rolling luggage beside him.

  “Oh wow. Thanks.” I knelt down and rummaged through the diaper bag for Nell’s bottle. She was working up to her spastic wail. “Shhh, shhh, shhh, almost ready.”

  “I can take her,” Aaryn said. “No puking,” he instructed as she squirmed in his arms.

  “Oh my gosh, your baby is so cute!”

  A girl who looked no older than thirteen crowded Aaryn, three others following her.

  “She’s not mine, she’s—”

  “What’s her name?” crooned one of the girl’s friends.

  My face felt red-hot. I edged into the group to take her back, but Aaryn shrugged and waved me away.

  “Nell,” he said. He grinned and positioned Nell so the girls could coo at her, which helped. She stopped crying for a full twenty seconds. Once Nell started wailing again, the girls left.

  I found an outlet to plug in the bottle warmer and sat against the wall, bouncing Nell while she wailed and spit out the pacifier. A few people looked at me funny when they walked by. The worst was this girl so beautiful she didn’t even seem real, who was followed by two older women and a kid carrying a sign. Her fan club, I guess. She made a face, like me sitting next to a baby bottle with my baby was the weirdest sight she’d ever encountered. The bottle warmer dinged.

  “Okay, girls.” Juliette looked fresh for having gotten up at four a.m. Nell sucked the bottle and drank in long, sleepy gulps. “Let’s figure out your schedules.”

  Svetlana, Sofia, and Monique were dancing for a few of the other scholarships being sponsored, and Peyton was along for moral support, since her ankles still weren’t the greatest. Also, she’d agreed to babysit.

  “See anyone you know?” Aaryn asked. The hum of everyone talking, Nell drinking, a few girls looking my way curiously—I felt dazed.

  “No,” I said. “No one looks familiar.” I wasn’t a ballerina anymore. Not like past competitions. I snuggled Nell against my chest and began burping her, which she did loudly. With a smile I kissed her cheek.

  “Ready for me to take over?” Peyton had a cup of coffee in her hand and seemed a lot more awake. Her hair was full along the crown, a thin headband tucked around it. Wrapped in hemp and beaded. “I think I’m going to check in at the hotel so Nell doesn’t have to spend all day with her meal plugged into the hallway.”

  “We’re used to improvising,” I said. The dancers were really flooding in now. “Are you sad you’re not competing?”

  “Not really.” She set down her coffee and wiggled her hands around Nell. “I love competing, but not when I hurt.”

  “I’m going to grab a water,” Aaryn said. “You guys want anything?”

  “I’ll take one,” I said. Peyton shook her head. He was a magnet for female attention as he retreated down the hall.

  “So,” Peyton said. “Aaryn’s quite the guy, huh?”

  I dug my schedule out of my purse and began checking it over for the hundredth time. “He’s very nice.” I had one hour. First up, a group class, then a modern solo, then pointe work, and finally a pas de deux—in my case, the piece with Aaryn—to show off my partnering experience.

  “You guys seem to have a good connection.”

  “We do.” I met her gaze. “There’s nothing going on between us, if that’s what you’re implying.”

  “Did I?”

  “Don’t be cute.” I reached out and drew Nell’s shirt over her belly. “I know you.”

&
nbsp; Peyton eased Nell against her other shoulder. “I’m just saying—he’s really great.”

  “I know.”

  She made a pouty face. “Sometimes I wish you had a nicer boyfriend, that’s all. And he’s so nice!”

  “I don’t want to talk about this.”

  “Okay.”

  All those people in the hallway, the sound of chaos, mostly, everyone preparing for one of the biggest moments of their lives—it felt a little claustrophobic. I folded the paper and shoved it deep into my purse.

  “Your water, my lady,” Aaryn said.

  “My lady?” Peyton said. She nudged me. She was totally smitten. I took a step away from her. Aaryn tipped his bottle against mine. “Cheers. To a great performance.” He drank, sighed with satisfaction, and glanced around. He was in a really good mood. “Should I be doing something right now? Warming up?”

  Okay—yeah. He was nice. And good-looking. And thoughtful. But it wasn’t like that between us.

  He held out his hand. “Come on. Let’s find a place to work in private.”

  I could feel my stupid face burning when we touched. I did a little spin for show, I don’t even know why, and tripped because some clueless group of dancers bumped into us. Aaryn made a big scene of catching me. He scooped me up and said something cheesy like “At least wait until we’re alone.”

  “Put me down,” I said. My heart was pounding because I knew Peyton was taking it all in, like she knew more about the kind of boyfriend I should have than me.

  “I know just where to take you,” Aaryn said. “And yes, you’re welcome. I’ve done my research.” He motioned for me to follow, really enthusiastic. I went to him.

  —

  The supply room was empty except for supplies—toilet paper, soap, and cleaning products on rows of metal shelving. We rehearsed a little, a good warm-up before the group class. The steel door was shut tight and blocked the noise in the hall.

  “There’s some really tough competition here,” I said. “Did you see that girl practicing in the hall?” I spun, his hands on my waist, the pirouette flawless.

  “I’ve never seen anyone dance the way you do,” he said. “Seriously. You have a gift.”