by S. T. Bende
“When I made the cooking and chore schedules, I told you we could tweak them if they didn’t work for you guys,” I reminded Heather. “That offer still stands. And actually, you did ask me to help make up a study schedule for you.”
“Well, I never asked for a cooking schedule. Or to be assigned bathroom duty, or sweeping-out-the-gutter duty, or whatever other asinine chores there are on that thing.” Heather rolled her eyes. “You think you have everything figured out, Mia. You want to shove everyone and everything into your neat little boxes instead of letting them be what they are… your friends included. Well, I have news for you. We’re not all as perfect as you are.”
Whoa. If the clenched jaw and balled fists were any indication, Heather was really upset. I looked to Charlotte to see if she felt the same as Heather, but her wide eyes were the picture of shock. A quick scan of Brynn’s body language revealed barely contained tension—her lips were in a tight line, and her torso was angled at Heather. She looked like a guard animal, poised to protect.
If I didn’t make things right with Heather, we were in for an extremely uncomfortable year on Daffodil Lane. I folded my hands and stifled my ego.
“Listen, Heather, I’m really sorry. I’ve always done things a certain way because it’s worked for me, and having schedules worked for the girls I lived with at prep school. But I get that it’s not working for you, and I shouldn’t have pushed my way of doing things on you. You too, Charlotte, Brynn—I thought that stuff was okay with you guys, but if it’s not we can drop the charts. Cook our own dinners, just clean whenever.” I cringed as the words came out of my mouth, but I pushed on, ignoring the mental image of dirty bathrooms and dish-filled sinks. Friends—and avoiding a war zone—were more important than tidiness. Just deal with it, Ahlström. “I’m sorry I upset you. I hope you can forgive me.”
I held my breath while Heather stared me down. After a long minute, she unclenched her fists and shook her head.
“It’s fine. I’m really stressed out about keeping my grades up, and this forced relocation put me on edge. Let’s just go downstairs and try to finish our homework. If it’s too crowded, I’ll study in one of the campus libraries until we get the rat situation handled.” Heather walked into her room and came out with her sleeping and studying materials. Brynn followed suit, stepping in between Heather and me.
Charlotte and I exchanged a look as we walked down the hallway. Crisis averted.
“Consider the cooking and cleaning schedules officially voided,” I offered as we all walked downstairs.
“I kind of like the schedules,” Charlotte murmured.
“Me too,” chirped Brynn. “I like knowing what to expect.”
“Seriously? I’m the only one who didn’t like hearing ‘It’s Saturday, your turn to clean the bathroom?’” Heather paused at the bottom of the stairs.
“Well, I don’t like it per se,” Charlotte agreed. “But I do like having a clean bathroom.”
“Whatever.” Heather rolled her eyes. “I guess we can keep the stupid schedules.”
I turned around and put my hand on her shoulder. “I can be a pain. I know. How about you get to sleep on the couch while we’re stuck down here, and I take your next bathroom shift so you have more study time?”
“Make it twice and you’ve got a deal.” Heather nodded, and I knew I was forgiven. At least, temporarily.
“Great. Let’s get our rat situation sorted as soon as possible so we can all get back to our normal routine.” I sized up the living room. “Because Heather’s right; a slumber party does not an ideal study environment make.”
“Are you… really? All this fuss over some tiny rodents?” Brynn shook her head.
“Tiny rodents with razor-sharp teeth,” Charlotte pointed out.
Brynn sighed. “Well, I’ve never been to a slumber party. Where do we start?”
“You’ve never been to a slumber party?” I asked, as she spread her comforter out on the rug near the couch. “How is that even possible?”
“They’re not really a thing where I’m from.” Brynn positioned her pillows and sat down with her backpack in her lap.
“They don’t do slumber parties in Sweden?” Charlotte staked out a spot across from Brynn.
“Sweden? Uh, no. Not so much.” Brynn’s voice sounded weird.
“Huh. Well, they’re fun. Except when they’re haunted by evil rats.” I shivered as I set up my makeshift bed.
We waited for the sound of nails in the walls, but the rats seemed to be confined to the attic.
For now.
I tucked my legs underneath me and set my notebook, textbook, and the Norse mythology tome I’d checked out of the library on my blanket. Then I picked up John Lindow’s text and found the page titled ‘Norns.’ My roommates took the hint, immersing themselves in their own studies. We read in silence, interrupted by the occasional turning page.
“Charlotte?” I placed a bookmark on the ‘Norns’ page and looked up.
“Mmm?” She flipped a page in her own text.
“Why would the Norns be so secretive when they knew they had information that could save the realms?” I asked.
Charlotte looked up in confusion. “What now?”
“The Norns. Did you study them in your AP class?”
“Some, but we focused more on the main gods and realms,” Charlotte recalled. “But if we’ve got Brynn here, she’s probably way more qualified than I am to talk about Norse gods.”
“Why?” Brynn asked.
“You’re from Scandinavia, ja?” Charlotte tried for her best Swedish accent, but ended up sounding like Zoolander. “I just figured you guys grew up with those stories.”
“True. What do you want to know?” Brynn stretched out on the floor.
“Well, I’m reading about the Norns. This author makes them sound like the Fates since they can predict the future, but instead of weaving they fed the world tree. I guess I’m wondering why they didn’t use their gifts to help Odin and the other gods when they knew something bad was going to happen?”
“Because whoever they warned would try to avoid getting hurt,” Heather guessed, closing her anatomy textbook. “Which would change the course of the future.”
“But they can help stop the bad stuff. They have the answers. Why not share them?” I challenged.
Brynn shook her head. “It’s dangerous to know something good is coming. The gods have a lot of enemies, and if one of them got word of an Aesir or a Vanir—”
“A what?” Heather asked from the couch.
“The gods of Asgard are called Aesir, and the gods of Vanaheim are called Vanir—they’re both good guys. And if one of the bad guys found out one of the good guys had a power that could destroy them, they’d go after the threat. Which would also change the future.” Brynn shook her head. “Scandinavian mythology is very structured. Every god has his or her role to fill, and every life is fated to complete a specific task. Interfering with those tasks could throw off the balance that the Norns strive to maintain. Because in Norse mythology, without perfekt order, there is absolut chaos.”
Finally. Something in all those stories I could relate to.
“Now the infrastructure of Asgard requires certain gods have information above and beyond the generalized prophecies the Norns hand out.” Brynn studied her cuticles. “Like, the Goddess of Love needs to know the prophecies that relate to the future of a potential couple. Say one is destined to fulfill a calling by the sea, and the other is destined to rule a mountain land, it wouldn’t be a good idea for her to bring those two together, right? So the Norns give the Goddess of Love access to information that helps her better perform her role as matchmaker. Similarly the Norns would give the God of War access to the prophecies relating to warring realms, or hostile elements.”
“So they were secretive with individual destinies, but if you were the god of whatever, they gave you the information you needed to keep things running smoothly?” Charlotte summarized.
“Exactly. Because so much rests on Asgard maintaining control over the realms, it is a very traditional culture with a patriarchal hierarchy, and Odin rules with an iron fist. Did they teach you that in art?” Brynn asked.
“Nope. They just showed us pictures of a naked god.” I winked at Charlotte, and she giggled.
“Well, the titled gods were given their titles at birth, and they hold them for the duration of their existence. On the rare occasion a titled god dies, or elects to retire, his or her title passes down to his heir. So if anything ever happened to Odin, the Alfödr title would pass to his son, Thor,” Brynn explained.
“You talk about them like they’re real people.” I smiled. “They must be a big part of the Scandinavian culture.”
Brynn stilled. “Er, ja. They are a big part of our culture.”
I nodded.
“These sound like military bedtime stories. Where’s the romance?” Heather said.
“Order sounds romantic to me,” I said. “Though Mama has a slightly different concept of romance. She thinks everyone’s life should play out like hers did. She and my dad met at a college homecoming party, locked eyes across the crowded dance floor and fell instantly in love.”
“That actually happens?” Heather asked.
“In the magical land of Louisiana, yes.” I grinned, thinking of the thousand times Mama retold her love story. “The southern belle married her Yankee prince, and they lived happily-evah-aftah.” I threw my hand across my forehead and pretended to faint.
“Hey, true love is a powerful force. It’s worth believing in.” Brynn urged.
“Oh, I believe in love,” I said. “I just also think it’s great that your culture’s myths honor the beauty in structure.”
“Well, they’re about destiny and meaning within the structure, too, on multiple levels,” Brynn clarified. “Asgard is actually a really complex society, mythologically speaking, and every god plays a role in the overarching saga of the realm—even the lesser known gods.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Asgard has warriors and bodyguards and valkyries and farmers and craftsmen. Non-titled gods play key roles in Asgardian society, not just the blockbuster gods like Thor and Loki.” Brynn crossed her legs and rocked back and forth. “Okay, like a Unifier? She minimizes conflict by heading off issues before they come to a head, guiding opposing factions to a neutral resolution, and fostering community.”
“Sounds like Mia,” Heather grumbled.
“Chore chart-maker for the gods.” Charlotte snickered. I stuck my tongue out at her.
“Exactly. On a massive, inter-realm scale.” Brynn nodded. “Then there’s a Healer—she’s able to cure almost any ailment. A Seer is able to predict the future. These kinds of roles are called Keys, and they can be passed through inheritance, or through marriage, if the personality fits the job.”
“I don’t understand.” Charlotte frowned. “I don’t remember learning about Keys in my AP class.”
Brynn hid a smile behind her hand. “Do you think textbooks can teach you everything?”
Yes. Yes, I do.
“So these Keys could marry into a…” I searched for the right word, “a job?”
“Exactly. If someone with a predisposition for, say, bringing people together, were to marry someone with a peacekeeping job, like maybe a high-ranking warrior? Well, then Odin might make the warrior’s bride a Unifier, and she’d use her powers to assist her husband in performing his duties.” Brynn watched me closely.
“So she’d get to be the woman behind the man? Would she have a choice?” I raised an eyebrow. That sounded kind of backwards.
“It’s a pretty big honor, actually. In that specific instance, the warrior god wouldn’t be able to perform his job effectively without the Key’s assistance. They’d have an extremely symbiotic relationship.” Brynn nodded.
“Talk about a power couple,” Charlotte mused.
Brynn raised her arms over her head in a yawn. “Boy, I’m getting tired. Must be bedtime.”
“I’m not sleeping tonight,” Heather muttered. “Stupid rats.”
“It’s one night.” Brynn pulled her sleep mask over her eyes and buried herself under her comforter. “The exterminator will be here tomorrow.”
“He better be.” I shivered. Bedtime stories or no, this was one new experience I wouldn’t have minded passing on.
CHAPTER SIX
“SO YOU’RE SAYING THEY can’t fit us in until next week? That is completely unacceptable.” I threw my gym bag over my shoulder and marched out of RSU’s locker room. Brynn trailed behind, fluffing her ponytail, not the slightest bit put out. “Why aren’t you upset about this?”
She shrugged. “It’s just a few rats. I still don’t see what the big deal is.”
“The big deal is that we’re camping out in our living room. Are we supposed to do that for an entire week while we wait for the rats to chew through our walls? Heather’s going to kill us all before then.” A cute guy walked through the glass door and held it open. “Thank you,” I said as I passed him.
“You are welcome, darlin’,” he drawled. He gave me a once over, his eyes taking in the bare skin between my sports bra and cropped yoga pants. His look might have made me blush if I weren’t so focused on the image of crawling rodents. Ew.
“Camping out is kind of fun,” Brynn argued. “And we could always go back to our rooms.”
“I’m not sleeping up there.” I pulled my sweatshirt out of my bag and slid my arms through the sleeves. I didn’t bother zipping it up; the night was unexpectedly warm, even though dusk now bathed the red brick buildings in a purple-ish glow.
“Fair enough.” Brynn skidded to a stop, then stood on her tiptoes. “Oh yay. Henrik! Tyr! Hei hei!”
My heart thudded to a standstill. Tyr. He who still had not called. When Brynn waved, I followed her sight line until I spotted Sweden’s Herculean export. He walked toward us wearing black jeans, a black T-shirt, and a smirk.
“Hei, Brynn. Hey, Mia.” The voice belonged to Henrik; Tyr was too busy staring at my exposed stomach, his eyes moving along the contours of each of my abdominal muscles. Despite my religious workout schedule, there were only four; I was never able to get those last two to pop. Tyr didn’t seem to mind. Stare away, Hercules. See what you’re missing.
“How are you guys?” Brynn chirped.
“We’re good. Just heading to the lab to pick up my laptop,” Henrik said.
“You left your laptop in the lab? Henrik! You know it’s got the breakdown for—eh, you know you shouldn’t leave it lying around.” Brynn sounded upset. It was sweet of her to worry about Henrik’s research project, or whatever other school materials he kept on his laptop, but I couldn’t echo her sentiment. My eyes were lost in a deep blue vortex.
Tyr stared me down with an intensity that tripled my heart rate. He stood with his shoulders back and his jaw set, and although his lips turned up, the expression looked forced. Tiny tremors of an emotion I couldn’t identify rippled just beneath his perfect exterior. The effect was barely noticeable, but I was so glued to each little nuance that I couldn’t help noticing he seemed… off. Not that he was ever Mr. Warm And Fuzzy, but just below the usual air of arrogance rested a vulnerability I wasn’t used to. His eyes looked at me with almost softness, at the same time as his hands were balled into fists.
Tyr Fredriksen was a study in contrasts. Absolutely striking, impossibly irresistible, infuriatingly frustrating contrasts.
“Mia. Breathe.” I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until Brynn elbowed me in the side.
“Huh?” I blurted, to Tyr’s amusement. The softness disappeared as I toppled over, and in a lightning quick movement, he threw an arm out to catch me. As always, the touch sent a burst of heat radiating through my body, and I pulled my elbow out of Tyr’s grasp as soon as I was steady. When I met his gaze, he stared back at me with wide eyes for just a moment before wiping his face clear of any expression.
He was so stinkin’ irritating.
“Ouch, Brynn. That was hard!” I complained.
“Sorry.” She shrugged, totally unapologetic.
“Kickboxing class ended twenty minutes ago,” I muttered.
“You two took kickboxing? Feel like punching someone today?” Tyr raised an eyebrow, once again the picture of calm and collected.
I crossed my arms. “Maybe.”
“Anyone in particular?” The amusement on his face was beyond annoying, but I wouldn’t bite.
“So Henrik forgot his laptop, but what are you doing here? You’re not a student.”
“Haven’t you figured it out by now?” Brynn gestured to her friends. “They’re joined at the hip.”
“Twinsies.” Henrik held up a fist and Tyr pounded it with his own, the universal sign of male friendship.
“I see.” An involuntary chuckle escaped as I watched the bromance play out, but my amusement stopped short when a shiver laced my spine. Despite the warm breeze rustling through the old oak trees that peppered campus, goosebumps danced across my skin. I uncrossed my arms and glanced down to zip up my hoodie, but a low voice stopped me cold.
“Don’t,” Tyr ordered.
“Excuse me?”
“Don’t zip it up.” He ran a hand through his tousled hair as he stared at my stomach. “You’ll ruin the view.”
Next to me, Brynn snickered.
My jaw fell open. On the one hand, it was incredibly forward of him. Who said that kind of thing out loud, in front of other people? On the other hand, it was hard to maintain the appropriate amount of indignation when the cutest boy I’d ever seen had told me he liked my abs.
Bet his abs are to die for…
Sparks popped along my cheeks as I hurried to zip up my sweatshirt.
“Sorry about him,” Henrik apologized. “We don’t let him out much. He likes to get a rise out of people.”
“Obviously,” I muttered.
“You guys get your rat situation under control?” Henrik asked.
Brynn sighed. “I called the guy you recommended this morning. He can’t fit us in until next week.”
