#
I climb in the Thunderbird, slam that door, too, and rev the engine as I back out of the driveway and turn toward school. Having Mom lecture me on love and loss is annoying. It isn’t like I’m some teenager who needs lessons on the matter. Even though I’m trapped in the body of a seventeen year-old, I’ve lived for well over three thousand years. I certainly know my way around affairs of the heart. And I know enough to stay clear of the carnage.
Ares, the god of war, was the first god I dated and the only man I’ve ever loved. Right up until he dumped me with no explanation and broke both my heart and my spirit. I haven’t loved anyone since.
I tried dating just one other time. Thanatos and I tried to date in the sixteen hundreds, but it ended before it ever began. We never even kissed. He was too arrogant for me, and I was too closed off for him. I also didn’t trust him. He always seemed more interested in my job than in me. I gave up on the gods after that.
As for humans? I’ve avoided any romantic entanglements with them. Dating humans isn’t forbidden, and my sisters certainly date their share. It’s easier for them, I think, since they aren’t the ones who have to kill their lovers.
I don’t want to get involved with someone who I have to kill. Even if the man lives to be a hundred and fifty, he’s still going to die… and I’m always going to be the one responsible. I’ll be left behind with the guilt and a broken heart. That’s just too much baggage for even a goddess to deal with.
It’s also impossible for me to have a long-term relationship without raising questions. I don’t age. At some point, the human is going to wonder what’s up, and I’ll have no choice but to end the relationship and vanish out of sight. Telling the truth—that I’m a goddess of fate—is forbidden. As if anyone would believe me, anyway. One-night stands don’t appeal to me, either, so I keep to myself.
I pull back into my parking space at school. The shrine to Amy has grown and is now lopping over into the adjacent handicap space. If anyone needs the space, they’re going to have to shovel a pathway in. I shake my head at the folly of humans and trudge to my fifth-period class. Advanced calculus is not my favorite subject by far, even though I’m good at it.
I’m late, but Mr. Myers is used to it and no longer asks for a pass. He doesn’t even stop lecturing. He just glances my way and nods as I creep toward my seat in the back of the class.
As I make my way down the aisle, I glance at the desk in front of mine. It’s been empty since October when the previous occupant moved away. Now Alex Martin is sitting in it. Of course. When I get close to his desk, he smiles at me.
Okay? he mouths.
Nodding at him as I pass, I slump into my chair. I can’t get away from this guy. I pull out my supplies and start doodling, only half listening to the lecture. I’ve heard it all before. After drawing for a few minutes, I’m shocked to see that I’ve drawn Alex as he looked at the lunch table. I quickly rip out the page and crumple it into a ball, drawing an annoyed glance from Mr. Myers.
What is wrong with me? I haven’t spoken to the boy for more than thirty minutes total. He’s probably a complete loser. After all, he is human. But something about him strikes me as different.
He’s smart, I’ll give him that. During class, he volunteers the answers more than any other student… and he’s always right. Refreshingly, he’s not obnoxious about it, either. He doesn’t wave his hand in the air, grunting, “Ooh, ooh, ooh,” like the brainiacs do. Mr. Myers asks, and Alex answers, as if it’s just the two of them having a private conversation.
I can’t get Alex’s comments about me at the lunch table out of my mind, either. He isn’t scared off by my reputation, one I’ve cultivated for the express purpose of keeping the humans away from me. The ruder and meaner I am, the farther away they get, which means no messy entanglements for me.
Alex is different. He’s already figured out my attitude is pasted on, and he wants to know why. I’ll have to be doubly unpleasant. That thought just makes me tired. Dropping my chin into my hand, I doze.
I’m jolted awake when a wad of paper hits me on the head. Mr. Myers has turned to write some problems on the board, and someone has chucked a note onto my desk. I unfold it, laying it flat among my notes.
Wake up! Meet me by the front doors after school.
Alex
I don’t hesitate. I scribble No on the paper, refold it, and toss it over Alex’s shoulder onto his desk.
After he unfolds the note, his shoulders shake with silent laughter. He shakes his head, writes something else on the paper, and hands it back to me over his shoulder.
You know you want to… the note reads.
I snort before covering it with a cough. This is stupid and childish. I can’t stop myself from smiling a little at Alex’s silliness, though, as I write back.
I don’t want to meet you after school. If you think I do, you’re delusional.
I toss the paper over his shoulder again and then settle back in my seat as Mr. Myers turns back toward the class. Alex doesn’t get a chance to open the note for another ten minutes. Mr. Myers finally turns back to the board, and I see Alex quickly read the note. He shakes his head, and I hear him snicker.
A normal response would be to get offended or pissed off. A normal person would stop with the foolishness right now. But Alex is amused that I’m being rude to him, and that reaction puzzles me.
I’m not being funny. I’m serious, and I think he knows that. I decide there must be something wrong with the kid. Some sort of impairment that makes it impossible for him to recognize “get lost” signals. Maybe he hit his head when he drove that car through the headmaster’s office. I shake my head and return my attention to the problem on the blackboard.
Alex has the answer before the rest of us, and he and Mr. Myers spend the rest of the period discussing higher derivatives. The bell finally rings. Jumping up, I run for the door. In my haste to put some distance between myself and Alex, I trip over Juliet Jackson’s backpack, nearly spraining my ankle. I’m fast, but not fast enough. Alex catches me just outside the classroom door and grabs my arm.
“Delusional, am I?” he asks with a smile. “That would explain the pink panda I keep seeing roaming the halls.”
I try to yank my arm out of his grip. He doesn’t let go.
“Joke,” he says when I don’t respond.
“One would hope,” I say, injecting some frost into my voice as I keep jerking my arm. “Let me go.”
“I’m not letting go because the second I do, you’re going to bolt again. I won’t let go until you let me talk.”
“Fine, talk,” I say, letting my arm go limp. He lets go but keeps his hand in the air, ready to make a grab. I stand my ground.
“Look, all I’m asking is for you to meet me after school. I’ve got something I want to show you.”
“Not a good idea,” I say.
“Why not?”
“You don’t know anything about me, nor do I, you.”
“Which is why spending some time together is a good idea,” he says.
“Trust me. You should take your cue from the rest of the kids. Just assume I’m crazy and depressed and stay away from me. I’m not someone you want to know more about.”
“Will you stop telling me who I should and shouldn’t want to know? I have a mind of my own, and I can use it. I just want to get to know you better. It’s not a crime.”
“It should be,” I mutter, looking at the floor.
“What?”
“Nothing,” I say.
“Please? Meet me after school. Just once.”
I ignore him and start walking down the hall. To my relief, he doesn’t follow. He does call out after me.
“You just look like you’ve had a rough day, and I happen to know of something that might lift your spirits a little. It’s not like I’m asking you to marry me and have my babies. If you change your mind, I’ll wait at the doors until 3:15.”
He’s so loud tha
t people turn to stare in our direction. I’m not embarrassed, just a little pissed at Alex for making such a big deal out of this and drawing attention to me. The boy is clueless.
It doesn’t matter anyway. Since I have to kill someone at three, I know I’ll never make it home and back to school by fifteen after. I’m safe. I throw a dismissive wave over my shoulder at Alex as I walk away. Maybe he’ll get the hint and stay away after I stand him up.