by Kieran Scott
Ty leaned into his horn. I jumped inside my boots. “I haven’t been avoiding you,” I replied. “I’ve been really busy. I had this huge fight with my mom, and then I had an English project due today. I haven’t had time—”
“For your best friend?” she said, making Lana and Gen squirm.
My heart felt sick.
“Yo, Katrina! Let’s go!” Ty shouted.
“Looks like you don’t have any time now, either,” Raine said, lifting a shoulder. “Guess you’re too good for us with your honors classes and your live-in boyfriend.”
She turned and started back up the stairs, the other girls trailing behind.
“Raine!” I called after her. “Look, I’ll meet up with you guys in the bathroom tomorrow. I’ll bring the doughnuts.”
Raine paused. She turned slowly and looked down her nose at me. “Don’t bother. In fact, don’t bother coming again. It’s not like we have anything in common anymore anyway. Have fun hanging out with the dorks again.”
I was still processing what she’d said when she and her friends disappeared over the hill. She didn’t want to be friends anymore. Raine had dumped me. In front of Lana and Gen. She didn’t care about me or how I felt. And at that moment, I started to wonder if she ever had. Would she have done for me what Charlie had done for me in class today? I almost laughed trying to imagine it. But she was always cheating off my tests, getting me to bring her food, criticizing my opinions and decisions. Suddenly I felt like a complete idiot. For eleven years I had been friends with someone who only cared about what I could do for her.
Ty leaned into his horn for a good thirty seconds. My eyes hot with tears, I tromped down the stairs toward his car. But I refused to cry over Raine. She was right. We didn’t have anything in common anymore.
“Hey,” I said brightly as I got into the car, trying to regain my good mood. I leaned toward Ty for a kiss, ready to tell him about the presentation, but he didn’t turn toward me. Feeling awkward, I kissed his cheek anyway.
“Hey,” he said flatly.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
He gunned the engine and peeled out, almost running over a herd of cheerleaders on their way to a bus. I sunk down farther in my seat.
“Gino hired some new dirtbag in a wheelchair who now thinks he’s running the place. He showed up for his shift at two o’clock and started changing everything,” Ty said, his jaw working as he took a corner like we were in the middle of a NASCAR race.
“Ty, what’re you doing?” I asked. “You’re gonna crash.”
“Don’t tell me how to drive!” he barked.
I held on to the door handle, news images of my father’s accident flitting through my mind. “I’m sure it’ll be fine,” I said, hoping to calm him into slowing down. “Gino wouldn’t hire someone who wasn’t cool, right?”
“Yeah. That’s what I thought,” he said. “Until the asshole looked at the sixty-seven job and said we had to do it over again. And Gino agreed.”
The light up ahead had been yellow for half a minute, but Ty wasn’t slowing down. “Ty! Stop!” I shouted.
“What?”
He flew right through the intersection as the light turned red.
“You just ran that light!” I blurted, glancing back over my shoulder.
“Don’t shout at me when I’m driving!” he said through his teeth. “God! Do you know how dangerous that is?”
I was putting us in danger? Was he kidding? And had he totally spaced on the fact that I’d lost the most important person in my life to a car accident?
After a few seconds, he finally started doing the speed limit. I gritted my teeth and sat back. Tears stung my eyes, so I stared out the window. Clearly, now was not the time to tell him about my honors English triumph. He wouldn’t care and I’d feel worse. I’d learned my lesson after calling my mom with the news of my moving up last week. After Raine’s reaction to my switching classes. Sometimes it was better to keep my mouth shut.
I reached into my bag, fiddled with the spiral on my poetry notebook, and thought of Charlie. I saw his messages to me, his big smile, his double thumbs-up, and felt a flutter in my chest as I remembered him turning to that last page in his notebook, the huge letters scrawled across the page.
You were awesome! it had read. A smile tugged at my lips as I leaned back in my seat. You. Were awesome.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
True
For the first time since I’d arrived on Earth, no one was staring at me as I made my way to the front door of the school on Tuesday morning. They were staring at Hephaestus, who had moved into the first-floor guest room at the house yesterday, unpacked his meager things, and declared himself “home sweet home.” Aside from a few stacks of trendy clothing and some manly toiletries, all he had with him was a large mirror with an elaborate metal frame. It looked like something he would have forged back in his Mount Olympus days, with its delicate interweaving vines and leaves and flowers, hewn of metals that varied in texture and color. The piece was stunning. When I asked him where it had come from he’d shrugged and said, “Antique store somewhere.” And then he’d promptly changed the subject, which, I assumed, meant he was lying. I wasn’t sure why he’d felt the need to fib about furniture, but for the moment, I didn’t care. All I cared about was the fact that he was pulling attention away from me. A welcome relief.
Unlike my mother, I’d never been a glutton for the notice of others, and now that I was dressed “like a normal human being” as Hephaestus had put it, and was wingmanned by a gorgeous guy, the onus was off me. As I yanked open the front door so Hephaestus could wheel through, I actually saw one of Darnell’s friends lift her phone to snap my picture, but she hesitated and looked crestfallen. Guess she couldn’t find fault with the red sweater and tan cargoes. Success was mine.
“The office is down here,” I told Hephaestus as we entered the main hall.
A woman was pinning a notice to the bulletin board and dropped a stack of papers right in front of me. I kicked a few out of the way and opened the office door for Hephaestus. When I looked back, both he and the woman were staring at me.
“What?” I asked.
Hephaestus narrowed his eyes. “Sorry. My friend woke up on the blind side of the bed this morning.”
He reached down and gathered what he could of the papers, handing them back to her. She smiled and thanked him, then shot me an unreadable look as she bent to pick up the rest. Hephaestus shook his head as he joined me.
“What?” I asked again.
“Nothing,” he said lightly.
Inside, a line of three kids waited at the desk in front of Mrs. Leifer. I groaned. We didn’t have time for this. I wanted to introduce Hephaestus to Charlie before first bell. I walked up to the desk.
“My friend needs to register,” I told Mrs. Leifer.
She barely glanced up. “One minute, hon. It’s a bit busy this morning.”
“Yeah, and I was here first,” said the girl at the desk. She looked familiar.
“Weren’t you the one who called me Vomit Girl the other day?” I asked.
“Yeah? So? That doesn’t mean you get to cut the line.” She glanced back over her shoulder at Hephaestus. “No matter how hot your friend is.”
I rolled my eyes.
“True, it’s fine. We’ll wait,” Hephaestus said, angling his chair behind the last kid in line, a guy with spiked blond hair.
I groaned and sat down on the vinyl couch next to the line. It took forever for Mrs. Leifer to sort out whatever these kids needed her to sort out. My foot bounced beneath me and I sighed, watching the clock on the far wall ticking its way toward first bell.
“All right, new student?” Mrs. Leifer said, glancing at Hephaestus.
I stood up, slapping my hands against my thighs. “Finally.”
“Watch the attitude, Miss Olympia. I’m doing the best I can,” she said.
“Clearly you need to set higher goals,” I muttered.
“Wh
at?” she snapped.
“Here are my transcripts,” Hephaestus interjected, lifting a brown folder toward Mrs. Leifer. “My name is Heath Masters. I’m a senior. Moved here from California over the weekend.” He gave her one of his smiles and she was so startled by it, she snorted.
“Oh, well.” She opened the folder and looked it over. “Excellent grades, Mr. Masters.”
“Thanks,” he said smoothly. “I do what I can.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Well, we’ll need to take your picture for your ID and get your schedule together. You’ll probably spend first period in the office, I’m afraid, since we had no advance notice of your coming.” She quickly tapped a few buttons on her computer. “And we’ll have to set you up with a senior guide.”
“Oh, thank you, but I don’t need a guide,” he said. “I’m pretty good at navigating my own way.”
“Good luck with that,” I said under my breath.
“Well, it’s school policy,” Mrs. Leifer told him. But her tone lacked conviction. Wait a minute. Was she going to cave?
Hephaestus angled his chair so he could lean his arms over on the edge of Mrs. Leifer’s desk. “Mrs. Leifer,” he said in a low, charming voice, “take a good, long look at me. I have no parents. I’m moving in with my cousin and my aunt. I support myself by working a full-time job, on top of getting straight As in every one of my AP classes. Do you really think I’m the kind of guy who’s going to let someone else lead him around like a puppy dog? Do you think I’d be comfortable with that?”
Mrs. Leifer stared into his eyes for a good fifteen seconds. “No. No, I don’t.” She cleared her throat. “Okay, then. I think we can make an exception this once.”
“Ha!” I blurted.
She was clearly annoyed with me as she bustled to the end of the counter. “Come on over and we’ll take your picture.”
Hephaestus struck a pose, then wheeled back over to the couch to wait for his schedule. I sat down next to him, my jaw hanging open. “How did you do that?”
“That woman clearly hasn’t had sex in about ten years, plus she has a soft spot in her heart for people who triumph over adversity,” he said, nodding at her desk. For the first time I noticed that her wall calendar was from the Special Olympics. Next to it hung a colorful thank-you card handwritten by about a dozen kids. It read, Thanks for coming to read to us in the children’s ward at St. Mary’s!
“I never noticed those things,” I said flatly.
Hephaestus tilted his head, considering me. “You know, for someone whose entire job revolves around understanding the human condition, you are entirely clueless.”
My face burned. “I never had to notice these things before!” I whisper-shouted. “I could always read people’s hearts. I knew everything about them in a snap. Do you know what it’s like to suddenly not have that ability to rely on?”
“Then I suggest you start honing your powers of observation, and fast,” Hephaestus replied through his teeth. “That is, if you still want to save Orion.”
“Of course I do,” I replied, reaching up to touch the silver arrow hanging from my neck.
“Good. And you’re also going to have to work on your social graces,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Because your problems at this school go way past your fashion faux pas.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“I mean, I’ve been here five minutes and you’ve already completely ignored a woman in need, tried to cut a line, and treated Mrs. Leifer like a piece of dirt,” he replied. “You need to accept that you’re not a goddess anymore, True,” he said pointedly. “You’re not special. You’re not entitled. You’re going to need to learn to treat these people as equals.”
The bell rang, and the hallway outside the office flooded with students. I watched them go by, the shrieking, texting, chest-bumping, moping, chatting, gossiping mass of them, and gritted my teeth.
Hephaestus laughed under his breath. “And we’re also going to have to do something about that sneer.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Katrina
“Miss Ramos?”
I froze at the sound of my name. Mrs. Roberge handed me a piece of paper, folded at the center. She smiled. “Nice work yesterday.”
Cara and Stacey stared from their seats in the front row. I ducked my head. “Thanks.”
I didn’t open the paper until I was seated, safe in the back of the class. I definitely hadn’t expected to get my grade back this fast. I held my breath and unfolded the page.
PREPARATION: A
DELIVERY OF MATERIAL: A
PUBLIC SPEAKING: B
OVERALL GRADE: A−
Holy crap. An A−! I couldn’t believe it. A huge smile broke across my face as I folded the paper again, then unfolded it to make sure I’d read it right. I’d gotten an A− in honors English. On the project I’d been terrified of from the moment it was assigned. Not only was it over, but I’d aced it!
I glanced around the room, wanting to tell someone, wanting to scream, but there was no one there to tell. At least, no one who would care. Cara might, but she and Stacey were busy whispering and I didn’t want to interrupt. Then Charlie walked in. He came right to the back of the room and hovered in the aisle next to me.
“Hey.” His eyes widened when he saw my face, the paper in my hand. “Is that your grade?”
“Yep,” I said with a grin.
His blue eyes were bright. “Well? What did you get?”
From the corner of my eye I saw True take a seat on the far side of the room. She looked over at us curiously and I was about to wave, but then Darla and Veronica walked in behind her. Darla shot me a look of death, and I felt myself shut down. First Stacey, now Darla. How many girls were in love with Charlie Cox anyway?
“It’s no big deal,” I said, folding the paper away.
“Are you kidding? It’s a huge deal. What did you get?” he asked, sitting down next to me and shoving his bag under his chair.
At the front of the room, Darla and Veronica were now whispering too.
I bit my lip. “An A minus.”
Charlie’s whole face lit up. “I knew it!” He reached out and shoved my arm like we were old friends. “I told you you were awesome.”
My heart felt like it was overflowing. “Thank you,” I told him. “Honestly, I couldn’t have done it without you.”
At that moment, Darla arrived. She pressed the fingertips of one hand into my desk, the fingertips of the other hand into Charlie’s.
“Couldn’t have done what without him?” she asked with a sour smile.
“Nothing,” I said, staring down at my desk.
“Oh, hey, Darla,” Charlie replied. “I just helped her out with her English project yesterday.”
“Oh, really?” Darla said. “That’s so sweet! Isn’t my Charlie so sweet?”
I hated her. In that moment I fully hated her. Because it was so obvious what she was doing, and the fact that she thought it would affect me meant she thought I was an idiot. I pulled out my phone and looked up at her. It took every ounce of strength inside me to meet her gaze.
“I think I’ll text my boyfriend and tell him about my grade,” I said pointedly. “He’s going to be so excited.”
Then I turned my back on both of them and did just that. Unfortunately, I was shaking so hard I had to type it three times over, but by the time I faced forward again, Darla was gone, class was starting, and I didn’t dare look at Charlie.
“Are you okay?” he whispered to me as the latest victim of Mrs. Roberge’s evil project took the podium.
“I’m fine,” I told him, forcing a smile. “Thanks again. Really.”
He looked like he was going to say something else, but then Mrs. Roberge shot us a glare and we both faced forward. I felt sick to my stomach. Like Charlie and I had been on the verge of something and now it was somehow ruined. But what could we have been on the verge of? I had a boyfriend and he clearly had a girlfriend.
<
br /> Suddenly a folded note skittered across my desk. I grabbed it before it could fall off the other side. With a surreptitious glance at Charlie, I carefully unfolded it.
THIS TOOL IS NOWHERE AS GOOD AS YOU WERE.
I snorted and slapped my hand over my nose as the lecturer looked up.
“Sorry!” I whispered.
“You’re doing great!” Charlie called out.
And then we spent the rest of the class period trying not to laugh.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
True
“Hey, True.”
Charlie caught up with me as I followed Hephaestus through the door into our econ class, the only class we had together aside from lunch, since he’d made himself a senior and I’d made myself a junior. Hephaestus wheeled over to Mr. Chin to show him his schedule, and I moved to a desk near the wall.
“Hi, Charlie,” I said. “How are you?”
He seemed surprised I’d asked. “Good. So you’re still talking to me? After last week?”
I blinked. “Right! Last week. Our . . . argument. Don’t worry about it,” I said. “I’ve had a lot going on. I’ve barely even thought about it.”
“So you’re not gonna try to set me up again?” he asked. “Because I kind of have this thing going with Darla. . . . You know, Josh and Veronica’s friend? We spent the whole day together on Saturday and most of Sunday, too.”
I hesitated. Little did he know he was with Darla because of me. And that she was totally wrong for him.
“Oh, yeah?” I asked. “How’s that going?”
“Pretty good, I think,” he said with a shrug. “She’s cool.” He angled himself toward me and lowered his voice. “You know her, kind of, right? What do you think?”
My eyebrows darted up. “You want my opinion? Really?”
He smirked. “Don’t let it go to your head. But yeah, I guess I was curious . . . what my friends thought about it.”
I grinned even as I couldn’t believe how excited I was to be called his friend. And now I could tell him what I really thought. That Darla was okay, but shallow and superficial and totally blind to half his awesomeness.
