Something True (17 page)

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Authors: Kieran Scott

BOOK: Something True
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CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

True

I felt the pain in my face before I was even fully awake. Trying to avoid it, I rolled onto my opposite side, and one of my ribs exploded. At least, that was what it felt like. I opened my eyes and winced. In my debilitated state the night before, I’d forgotten to close the curtains on my east-facing window, and the sunlight was blinding. I raised one hand against it and winced. There wasn’t one part of my body that didn’t ache.

Letting out a groan, I rolled onto my back and tried to sit up. My ribs replied with another shock of pain. Everything hurt, but I was going to have to go about my day as if I was right as rain. I had to try to facilitate a reconciliation between Darla and Wallace. Those two were my only hope.

Finally, reluctantly, I opened my eyes and pushed myself up, doing it as quickly as possible, then eased myself back into my pillows. I didn’t want to look at the sand timer, but I sadistically did it anyway. There was less than one quarter of the sand left in the top. I groaned again and looked away. That was when I saw something propped up against my desk chair, and my heart came to a screeching stop.

My quiver. My bow. My arrows. My magical weaponry. It was right there in front of me. This wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be.

I closed my eyes again, rubbed them, and blinked. Yep. Still there.

Ignoring the pain, I swung my legs out of bed and hobbled over to the chair. A note was attached to the strap by a black ribbon. It read simply:

All’s fair in love and war. –A

Ares. Of course. He would never be able to bear it if his daughter lost in battle. Or, perhaps, he simply loved me and wanted me to live. Either way, I was grateful for the assistance.

I lifted my bow first, and the familiar, comforting heft of it sent a thrill of pleasure through my body. I clasped the leather handle in my fingers and laughed as they slid right into place, settling into the grooves they’d left after generation upon generation of use. Then I ran my fingers down the string and plucked it, watching it vibrate. I saw myself lounging at my earthen window, piercing the hearts of mortals from far above, inspiring endless love among the masses. My own heart swelled as I remembered what it felt like to be that free, that powerful, that in control.

I was Eros, creator of love on Earth. I was a goddess. For now, anyway.

“It’s good to see you, old friend,” I whispered.

Then I grabbed the quiver and knew something was wrong. It was too heavy. Far too heavy. So heavy it felt like my ribs were cracking again. I sat down on my bed and saw the cause. The quiver was filled with arrows—ten to be exact—but they were not my light-as-a-feather golden arrows, which were used for breeding love and making matches. They were my leaden arrows, the ones I used far less often and certainly never at a clip of ten at a time. These arrows bred hatred.

I took a deep breath and sighed. Of course my father would leave my hatred arrows. This way I could win by death, rather than by forging love.

But it did make sense. It would have been too easy if my golden arrows had suddenly appeared. I could have walked out of this room and made the mailman fall in love with a bus driver and my work here would be done—a slight against our bargain that Zeus would surely notice. Besides, I realized as I ran my fingers over the cold fletching on one of the arrows, these could be helpful too. With these arrows I could end Artemis and Apollo with a mere snap of the string. They were one of the few weapons ever forged that could stop a god’s or goddess’s heart with one strike.

I lay back on my bed again, drawing my bow with me, holding it against my sore chest and ribs. It felt good in my hands. It felt like home. Just clinging to it gave me a surge of white-hot hope.

I could do this. I could survive this. I would prevail.

I heard my mother’s hair dryer roar to life in the bathroom. It was time to get up and move gingerly through my day. I pushed myself out of bed and went to the closet, placing my beloved bow and its evil arrows inside, where they could easily be reached.

Even with my many aches and pains and the memories of my ignominious fight with Apollo last night, I felt better now. Confident. Just knowing my bow was with me was a tremendous boost. Holding it had made me feel myself again. And when I was Eros, Goddess of Love, nothing could stop me.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Orion

Mr. Crouch, the photography teacher, had breath that smelled like pea soup. I wasn’t sure I’d ever had pea soup before, but that was the image that came disgustingly to mind every time he leaned in close to me and Darla on Tuesday afternoon. Green, mealy goo. It was too bad they couldn’t have had Greg take these shots, but he was already booked. Right now he was up on the field, getting ready to take the official team pics for football and Boosters.

“Put your arm around her from behind,” Crouch told me, and I watched his stubble-covered Adam’s apple bob over the top of the too-tight collar of his plaid shirt. “Act like you like her.”

Darla and I laughed nervously. He really couldn’t have said anything worse, considering how tense we’d been around each other today. Even after telling Claudia I wanted Darla as my booster, I felt like everything I said or did could be the wrong thing. I’d never had a fight with a girlfriend before, and I didn’t know how to deal, so I’d spent most of the day keeping my mouth shut and smiling, just hoping that before long everything would go back to the way it had been. Easy. Uncomplicated. Fun.

Now I put my arm around Darla and held her close against my chest, her hair tangling on the thick weave of my sweater. It was so awkward, standing here with everyone else, posing. I wondered how the kids who weren’t couples were handling being paired up and asked to grope each other for the camera. Mr. Crouch moved on to Josh and Veronica, who stood behind us in line at the center of the gym.

“See? These two know what they’re doing. Perfectly in sync.”

I felt Darla clench. “You okay?” I whispered.

“Fine.” She turned to smile at me, lost her balance, and brought the very sharp tip of her very high heel down on top of my foot. It hurt. A lot. I broke from the line, hopping like an idiot and cursing under my breath.

“Mr. Floros?” Principal Peterson hovered near the door to the locker room, looking bored. “Are we going to have to be here all day?”

“No. No, sir. I’m fine.” I touched my foot gingerly to the ground and snatched it back up again, then hobbled back over to Darla. One hand covered her mouth.

“I’m so sorry!” she hissed. “Are you okay?”

“M’fine,” I mumbled, forcing a smile as I slid in behind her again. Veronica smirked. Sometimes I really wondered what Josh saw in that girl. Actually, I wondered that every single day.

“As long as you can run this weekend,” Josh joked as the photographer dealt with the seniors.

I clenched my teeth. “Shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Okay, on the count of three, everyone smile their best homecoming smile!” Mr. Crouch backed up with his camera until he was far enough to get the wide shot. He’d clicked off a few when the bell rang. In ten minutes we were going to be late for football practice, which would not make Coach Morschauser happy. To him, homecoming was about the game, not the dance. At this point I kind of wished that were true.

At least we’d gotten out of ninth period for the photo shoot. Art class would’ve been a nightmare. True probably hated me more than ever after being fired as my booster, and I didn’t even want to deal with my arrow painting and what it might mean.

“That’s it! We’ve got it!” Crouch raised his camera in triumph. “Great shot, people. You’re free to go.”

The line of candidates broke up, and the gym filled with conversation and laughter. Darla and I went to the bleachers to pick up our bags.

“So I wanted to ask you . . . what do you want in your spirit basket?” she asked, taking out her phone to make notes.

“Oh, you know what I like,” I said, recalling, much to my guilt, the day True had told me what she was going to put in my basket and somehow guessed every one of my favorite things.

Darla’s brow knit. “Brownies? Cookies? Candy bars?”

“Sure. That sounds fine,” I said, trying to be diplomatic or whatever as I lifted my football gear onto my shoulder. No rocking the boat for me. “Whatever you think.”

“But I want to get it right for you,” Darla said, following me across the gym like a reporter on a hot story. “It’s my first spirit basket.”

“Darla, honestly. Just get whatever,” I told her. “It’s really not that big of a deal.”

Darla stopped in her tracks. She, Veronica, and Josh stared at me as if I’d just insulted each of their mothers. Obviously, I’d done something wrong. But what? I didn’t want her to stress over something as silly as a spirit basket. What was the problem with that?

“What?” I said, lifting my shoulders. “It’s supposed to be fun. You don’t have to take everything so seriously.”

“I didn’t realize I was such a downer,” Darla said, shoving her phone into her bag. “I thought I was just trying to be a good girlfriend. Or do you still want True to be your booster?”

Right. Okay. Clearly, keeping my mouth shut and smiling had been the right policy.

“Darla. You know I don’t want that.”

I reached for her hand, but she turned away from me and grabbed Veronica. “Come on, V. We’re going to the mall.”

“Don’t you have Boosters?” I asked.

“Yeah, well, suddenly I don’t feel like going.”

Veronica seemed impressed. She shot me a withering glance over her shoulder as the two of them walked away.

“I’m sure I’ll love whatever you make for me!” I shouted after Darla. “Honestly!”

But they didn’t stop. I heard the creak of the gym lobby door followed by its loud, very final slam. Josh gave me this look like,
Dude
.

“What? What did I do?” I demanded, my cluelessness making me sweat.

He shook his head and slapped me on the back, and we trudged together across the gym.

“We still going out to get our tuxes tonight?” Josh asked me.

I sighed, frustrated. “That’s the plan.”

“We’ll stop by Darla’s after so you can show her what you picked out,” he said. “She’ll love it so much she’ll forgive you.”

“Wow. That’s not bad,” I said. “What made you think of that?”

Josh smiled ruefully. “Date Veronica Vine long enough and you learn a few things about the female mind.”

We both laughed, and I followed him into the locker room. I just hoped that by the time I got to the field I was feeling more confident than I was right now. Just when I rededicated myself to Darla, everything I did was wrong.

A few days ago I had two amazing girls after me, and now they were both acting like they hated my guts. Where had it all gone wrong?

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

True

“Okay, everybody say ‘cheese!’ ” Greg instructed.

I stood between Claudia and Wallace in a group of blue-clad boosters and smiled as best I could, considering Claudia had just told me that Orion had thrown me over in favor of Darla, and Wallace was acting like his dog had just died. I didn’t care about Orion, I reminded myself. Or at least, I wasn’t supposed to. Not this Orion. What I cared about was getting my Orion back. Which meant I had to corner Wallace and talk him into giving him and Darla a chance. The only thing that mattered was sparking true love between my third couple. And preparing myself for whatever might happen next.

But seriously, if Darla wanted to be Orion’s booster so badly, then where was she? It didn’t seem like she was very dedicated.

“Good job, everyone. Thanks!”

Greg gave us the thumbs-up and the rest of the boosters went over to the supply boxes to get out their paints, glitter, and glue for their über-important homecoming signs. I grabbed Wallace and pulled him around the far side of the snack bar, where we’d be out of sight of the rest of the club.

“Ow. Man, you have a strong grip.” Wallace yanked his arm out of my grasp. “What’s up?”

“We need to talk about Darla,” I said, zipping my red hoodie up to my chin against the chill in the air.

Wallace looked at his feet. “I told you, I don’t want to talk about that.”

“Just tell me what you like about her,” I said.

“Why?” He shrugged. “What’s the point?”

“I’m just curious,” I told him. “Talk. What’s your favorite thing about her?”

“I don’t know, she’s very giving,” he said, squirming. “She’s always doing things for other people, and sometimes I think she doesn’t even realize she’s doing it. It’s like it’s in her DNA to care about other people.”

“Okay. What else?”

“She’s smart. Like, supersmart. She has the best math and science brain in the whole school.” He paused. “Well, other than me.”

“Of course,” I said, surprised. I’d never imagined Darla as the brainy type. “Keep going.”

Wallace raised his eyes to the heavens. He was losing patience with me, but I didn’t care. Everything hinged on this. Everything.

“She’s creative. She can make literally anything more beautiful.
She’s
beautiful. And vulnerable. And totally unaware of how awesome she is.” He pressed his hands over his face for a second, then dropped them.

“Why are you making me say all this?”

“Because I thought
you
should hear it,” I said, gripping his shoulders and forcing him to look me in the eye. “I wanted you to hear how much she means to you. And don’t you think
she
has a right to hear it too?”

Wallace stared at me for a long moment, considering. “What if she doesn’t want to hear it?”

“What girl doesn’t want to hear how awesome she is?” I asked with a laugh. “It’s all anyone wants to hear, isn’t it?”

Out on the track, the cheerleaders started to chant. “Get up and go! Get up and go! Get up and . . . GO!”

We locked eyes, then laughed. “See? Even the cheerleaders want you to tell her.”

Wallace sighed. “I’ll think about it.”

“Good.” That was all I could ask for. I knew Wallace well enough to know that he was a big thinker—a thorough thinker. And I knew he’d come to the right conclusion—that his love for her trumped everything else. It had to. Love was the only thing that mattered.

“Now let’s go make some homecoming signs,” I said, steering him around the corner. “Because you know those guys won’t win this game unless we display the appropriate amount of glitter.”

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