Elysium's Love Triangle (11 page)

When the place quietens down Daniel tells Nate about this message.

Nate asks did anyone else get one addressed specifically to them.

No one did.

Now I am
really
worried about my boyfriend.

Nate asks whether Daniel has been tracking Rejon recently.

He is trying to figure out why Rejon is targeting Daniel specifically.

I am beginning to wonder that too.

“Have you done anything to annoy him recently?”  Nate asks my boyfriend.

Daniel answers that he doesn’t know who Rejon is.  It is therefore impossible for him to know if he has annoyed him.

This is a good point.

Nate just sighs.

He wants us all to focus on this issue now.

Day and night we are to be vigilante, on the lookout for clues.

If we meet anyone who we even
suspect
of being a Cezer we are to tell him.

If someone looks at us funny, if someone
talks
to us funny, if someone
acts
funny, he wants to
know
about it.

It doesn’t even matter if it’s another member of this group.

He wants to know
everything
that
any of us are thinking about this. 

At all times.

A few people look uncomfortable now.  They all know that Rejon could be here with us now, pretending to be one of our own. 

He could have an informer either, I think to myself.

This way he wouldn’t need to
physically
be here at all.

I look around, disliking the fact that I have to suspect everyone.

Nate says that we must begin hunting Cezers, the way they are now hunting us.

This is the only way for us to survive the onslaught that is coming.

We
cannot
let the evil side of our species prosper.

The Cezers have declared war on us.

We are the ones who
must
come out of this war alive.

Otherwise the Cezers will run riot.

We must fight.  We must survive.

Not only for the sake of our own species, but also for the humans.

I think about how the Cezers treat humans.
 
Nate is right.

I squeeze Daniel’s hand tighter.

The war, whether we like it or not, has begun.

It will not be won easily.

*

I am eating lunch, still very much reeling from Rejon’s letter.

A lot of my Arachne group are
outside now.

They have transformed themselves into spiders, of all things.

Daniel told me that all Arachnes
have the power to do this
.   They generally do it when they
’re hiding, or when a human wakes up before they’re meant to.

If anyone ever sees a spider in their room, soon after
or
right before a nightmare, it is almost
definitely
an Arachne
. 

They don’t transform
themselves often though, Nate explained.  You can only do it ten times in your whole life. 

You have to choose wisely.

I think I was happier before I knew all this.  A spider was just a spider then.

Greg walks up sits down at my table, right across from me.

“Hi stranger,” he smirks.  “It feels like ages since we’ve talked!  Where did you get to yesterday?”

I find myself smiling at him.

It’s nice to be around someone who’s in a good mood.  There w
asn’t a lot of cheerful Arachne
s after this morning
’
s meeting.

“Oh, I went on a trip to the zoo,” I reply.  “What did you get up to?”

He nods and dips one of his F
rench fries into some tomato ketchup, “All sorts.  I
would
tell you but then you might be implicated in it.”

I laugh.

His voice lowers; the look in his eyes goes more serious, “Were you with the blue eyed class?”

I tell him that I was.

He sits back, seemingly pondering, “Do you think there’s something weird about
them?  The way they all stick
together . . .”

I strenuously deny this.

I do so with a bit too much fervour. 

I realise, to my dismay, that I’ve probably just raised your suspicions.

He looks amazed and stops eating suddenly, to study me, “You are one of
them
now . . . How did I not see that?”

My heart drops.

How much does he know?

“I have no idea wha
t you are talking about,”
I sound far too guilty
, again
. 

He doesn’t answer.

Instead he focuses on his food again for a moment.

“Angelica called ov
er last night,”
he changes the subject.  “Said you needed some time alon
e with spider-boy . . .
I’m not one to judge but it seems like you’ve only known him a few days and . . .”

I interrupt, a red flag having been raised in my head, “Did you just call him
spider-boy
?”

I am very much beginning to worry about how much Greg Harshaw knows.

Greg seems to find my r
eaction strange, “Yeah, he
collects pictures of spiders.  It’s my nickname for him.  Are you okay, Katy?  You seem edgy or something.”

We are all a bit ‘edgy’ since the meeting.

I need to get a grip.

I relax.  This is Greg I’m talking to.

“I’m sorry,” I apologize quickly, my voice sincere.  “I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night, I’ve a tonne of homework to do . . .  You know how it is . . .”

I see the mischief returning to his eyes in a second.

He is forming a plan.

I know it.

I can’t help but grin.

“Hey, what do you say we escape here for the day?” He leans in closer, animated now.  “I want to introduce you to some friends of mine.”

I can never say no to him.

Even when I know I should.

There’s just something about him, something between us, which makes it impossible.

“Where would we be going?”  I ask, helplessly intrigued.

I love the blue and white check shirt he is wearing.

It goes well with his blonde hair.

“It’s about an hour away
,” he remains elusive on purpose.  “You up for it?”

I don’t know what Daniel would think.

He hasn’t said anything but I don’t think he likes Greg much.

Greg unconsciously runs a hand through his hair now.

The word ‘temptation’ doesn’t cover how well he looks now.

“Yeah, sure,” I find myself mumbling.

Once again I chastise myself.

It scares me how easily he can draw me in.

He beams at me, “Awesome.”

We agree to go when we’re finished lunch.

I find myself studying his face.  It’s so perfectly angelic.

I shall have to stop noticing that, just like I’ll have to stop noticing his perfect body.

I take a sip of my orange juice.

Why is he so irresistible to me?

He begins telling me about this band he’s the lead singer in.

“That’s awesome,”
I remark.

I love musicians.

He offers to give me guitar lessons sometimes.

I instantly accept.

He smiles in a way that makes me want to melt.

I don’t know what power he has over me but I do know one thing.

He is using it today.

*

Greg was lying when he said
that
his friend’s place was ‘about an hour’ away.

We’ve been on the
road for two hours now
.  I don’t really mind though.  We’ve been singing along with the radio and catching up on all the years apart.

It almost feels like we’ve never been apart, now that we’ve found each other again.

I hadn’t even realised how much I missed him.

A sad country song comes on the radio.
  It’s about a man who misses his wedding.

Greg sings along loudly but changes the words.

In Greg’s version the man doesn’t miss his wedding.

Instead he
does
make it to his wedding but later finds out
that
the girl is a transvestite.

I just shake my head, trying not to laugh, “I’ll never hear this song the same now.”

“Oh no, you’l
l hear it the same,” he informs
me.  “You’ll just be glad that he missed the wedding, instead of sad about it.  Perspective.  It’s a great thing.”

I tell him that he’s as crazy as ever.

He takes it as a compliment.

My phone rings.

It’s Daniel.  He wants to know if I’m okay.

He sounds frantic.

I look at my watch.  It’s half four. 

I remember that the two of us had planned to meet a quarter of an hour ago.

I completely forgot to tell him I was leaving. 

I feel awful.  If there was a ‘Worst Girlfriend’ award it would surely go to me.

No wonder Daniel is
worried.  He probably thinks that Rejon has me.

I
apologize and
assure him that I’m fine.  I’ve just gone on a road trip with Greg
, I explain
.

This momentarily calms Daniel
.  Then he gets all worked up again.

He asks a lot of questions.

Am I sure
that
I can trust Greg?  

Where exactly are we going?

There are a few more questions in the same vein.  All of them born out of an endearingly cute concern for my well being.

His tone also tells me something else.

Daniel definitely doesn’t trust Greg Harshaw.

I look at my driver now.  He is looking quite amused.

“Daniel
,
relax.  I’m fine,” I assure him.  “I’ve known Greg since I was four.  Ain’t that right, Harshaw?”

Greg corrects me.

We’ve know each other since we were three, in fact.

He vaguely remembers my fourth birthday party.  There was a cake shaped like a fairy.

I remember it too.

The two of us get carried away reminiscing again.  A girl named Wonda Banks ate the wing and I got all upset because I wanted that piece. 

Greg had been the one to point out to me that the fairy had
two
wings.

The problem was resolved.

We both laugh at this memory. 

I could be so ridiculous back then.

I almost forget that Daniel’s on the phone until he speaks again.

He sounds slightly subdued.

He tells me to be careful.  Rejon could be anywhere.

His worry is in complete contrast with Greg, who is looking like he doesn’t have a care in the world right now.

Greg waits until my conversation with Daniel ends before speaking again, sarcastically, “Aw, that’s so cute, your boyfriend thinks he has to call if you go away for a few hours.”

“He just gets a bit worried,” I explain, not able to tell Greg the whole truth.  “Speaking of other-halves, what’s the deal with you and Angelica?  You looked pretty close at the Ball.”

I am quite curious to know.  Angelica doesn’t say much.

“Not as close as you and spider-boy with your public displays,” he teases before glancing at me for a second.  He seems rather far away when he looks at the road again, “I don’t know what to make of Angelica.  I think she may like me . . . It is entirely possible that she completely detests me . . . It’s hard to know with the girl.”

I grin while looking out the window at some fields.

I kn
ow exactly how Greg feels. 

“I can’t figure her out either, if it makes you feel better
,” I remark, in jest.

“Yeah,” Greg’s voice is suddenly quieter, a bit more thoughtful and serious.  “I think I’d prefer to be with someone where it’s easy . . . where things seem effortless . . . more natural.”