My Life From Hell (7 page)

To my surprise, Festos wasn’t a fan of the idea. “Talking to Kai didn’t work the last fifty times.”

“This isn’t talking. It’s fighting. And I’ll try harder.” I started to rise from the table, but Festos pulled me back down in a iron grip.

“It’s not about trying harder, honeybunch,” he said, as I struggled to break free. “I’m worried about you. You’re a mess.” His hand snaked out and whipped up my sleeve.

Hot adrenaline flooded my system as Festos revealed my bare arm. I snatched it away, pulling the sleeve back down. “I’m fine.”

But it was too late. Theo was staring at my arm in horror. “Soph?” he asked, quietly.

“It’s nothing,” I said. But I let him push my sleeves up again and examine my arms. Both of which were covered in an angry red rash, made horror show worse by the tons of scratch marks on top. I peered down at them. I’d avoided checking them out too closely up until now. I’d preferred the “deny and rub raw” approach. But even I had to admit they looked like I’d been through some kind of nuclear disaster. “It’s a rash,” I explained uselessly.

“I see that,” Theo replied. “From what?”

Festos looked at him like he was nuts. “Really, Thesi? From this. All the stress she’s been under.” He shook his head. “If that’s on your outside, I hate to think what your insides are like.”

My insides were confused, angry, and seemed to have put spring on hold. But all I said was, “I could put some Calamine lotion on them.”

Festos snorted. “Unless you’re gonna brine your arms in a barrel of it for a few days, I’m doubting that’s the fix. Why not take one night off? Get out and blow off steam. Actually enjoy yourself. You can talk to Kai tomorrow.”

I raised an eyebrow. “At which point we’ll have five days until I face Zeus and Hades. What if I have to sit outside Kai’s door for two days until he opens up, huh? The clock is ticking here.”

Festos cocked his head and looked at me. “What if I could guarantee that he’d speak to you? Tomorrow. Would you let me get you out of your head for one night?”

I stood up, more than ready to end this ridiculous conversation and get back to working on Kai. “How are you going to do that, Miracle Max?”

Festos and Theo did more of that wordless communication thing. It was highly annoying.

Festos looked at Theo. “It’s her birthday,” he said.

More meaningful glances with zero explanation.

I threw my hands up, turned, and walked toward to my room.

“Magoo,” Theo called out after me before I’d gotten far.

I stopped and half-turned back. “What?”

“He’s right. Celebrate your birthday tonight, like any other seventeen-year-old. It’ll do more good than harm. Tomorrow we’ll amp up with a vengeance. All of us. Including Kai.”

I exhaled heavily. Then weighed the pros and cons. On one hand, I was very aware of how little time we had left. On the other, if Festos could guarantee that Kai would speak to me tomorrow, that would make the whole “putting the past behind us” process much much easier.

I scratched at my arms, then growled as I caught myself. Fee was right. I was a mess. Meditation hadn’t worked. Focusing on what lay ahead hadn’t either. And I
had
read about soldiers playing paintball to blow off steam, pump up adrenaline, let go of anger, and generally bond. Which would be perfect. “We could play paintball,” I suggested.

“We could not,” Festos replied, aghast. “Get ready to shake your booty, because we’re dressing you up and taking you to the most exclusive club in the universe.”

Nyx?” Theo groaned.

“Nyx,” Festos confirmed, beaming at me. “It’s going to blow your mind.”

***

Two hours later I wanted to blow my brains out. Did that count?

You’re going to be a laughingstock.
That little pep talk was the fifth one of its kind I’d heard in the past little while. Persephone’s voice-in-my-head was on a roll, creatively magnifying all sorts of deep-seated insecurities. The fact that I’d already tried on every outfit I owned and failed to feel fabulous in any of them so did not help the situation.

Not to mention, Festos met each new ensemble with a variety of “ick” faces. He allowed me a dinner break without letting up on his constant chattering criticism of my utterly lacking fashion sense.

“Don’t you have anything a little less … teen prom?” he asked, staring doubtfully at my latest pairing of a blue strappy number with a pouffy skirt. Over top of which, I’d added a red cardigan, since I was super self-conscious about my arms.

“My wardrobe is fine,” I snapped. “I was a student. Not a club kid.” I perked up as I heard Theo call out, “Incoming with Saul.” Saul was his nickname for Hannah.

I grinned, pushed away from the table and skipped over to her. The two of us burst into gleeful shrieks while jumping up and down holding hands. Yup, totally channeling our inner eleven-year-olds here.

It had been almost a month since we’d seen each other. For the two of us, having grown up at boarding school together, that felt magnified by dog years. Students weren’t allowed cell phones at Hope Park, and our Skype time had been limited. Seeing Hannah now? It was like having my other half back with me.

A piercing whistle cut through the noise of our reunion.

We glanced at Theo, whose arms were laden with dresses. “Where do you want these?”

Hannah and I exchanged a wordless look, in which we communicated an entire pros and cons discussion of leaving the clothes in the living room versus the bathroom versus the bedroom.

“Bedroom,” we said in unison.

I felt somewhat smug that I had a silent psychic buddy, too.

Theo dutifully headed off with everything.

Hannah enveloped me in a giant hug. “Happy birthday, Kitten.” Her eyebrows rose as her hand brushed my bicep. She gave it a squeeze. “And hello, Warrior Princess.”

I flexed for her as we broke apart. “Me of all people, right?”

“We live in strange times,” she said gravely.

“Yeah, yeah. Enough chit chat. More presents for pretty girls,” I said.

She waved me off. “Later. Maybe.”

I was
so
getting a present.

I held Hannah at arms’ length to take her in. Being tall, blonde, and beautiful meant that she could wear a potato sack and be dressed to kill. Thing is, Hannah was a huge science geek who until recently, had preferred jeans and corny science pun T-shirts. Then she’d met and started dating Pierce, a.k.a Eros, the God of Love. Shockingly, she’d started dressing like a girl soon afterward. A very hot girl.

“You look even more disgustingly gorgeous than usual,” I said.

“I know,” she replied without an ounce of modesty. “Check out the attire.” She ran a hand along her body. Her outfit consisted of a short, flowy, strapless babydoll dress with a sweetheart neckline, all in the palest gold. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail and she wore the funky, hammered gold hoops I’d bought her for her sixteenth birthday.

I nodded. “Perfect ‘get past the velvet rope and all you losers be damned’ look.”

Hannah exhaled hard. “Oh good. I was worried I was being too subtle.”

I laughed and twirled my finger in the international sign for “turn around and let me check you out from the rear.” She obliged. The back of her dress had a fat band across her shoulder blades, with a wide cut out section underneath. Strappy gold heels completed the hotness.

Festos gave her a wolf whistle. “I could turn straight for that.”

Theo chuckled as he returned from my bedroom, his arms now empty. “You can’t even draw straight.”

Festos was right, though. Hannah looked amazing. But more than that, she glowed with happiness. She was a total goner in love with Pierce.

And I was really glad for her.

For the first hour she spent talking about him anyway. Then I wanted to shove my bestest friend out my bedroom window. Because, hello? She was dating the God of Love. Dude was the most romantic guy in the history of the universe. No date night of Playstation and a pizza. Nope, his latest escapade had involved taking her on a midnight picnic at some ancient ruins on a beach. Not what I wanted to hear right now.

Hannah zipped me into a little red number. “…Then,” she continued, “I decided to come home for spring break this week since dad is tied up with a big case, which meant I’d have a ton of unsupervised time with Pierce.” She half-sighed, half-giggled (who was this alien?) while I tried not to gag.

I nodded for her to continue as I made my way to my mirror.

“Guess what Pierce did on my first night home?”

I crossed my fingers and wished for
got violently ill with stomach cramps and couldn’t see you for a while.
“I can’t imagine,” I murmured, pasting on a smile that I fully expected Hannah to expose as the fake it was.

She didn’t even notice. She was too busy gushing. “He took me to Paraguay to meet these melanistic jaguars—”

“English, Pumpkin.” I studied my reflection. The evil Persephone voice in my head laughed. I looked like a kid playing dress up in her slutty older sister’s clothes.

Brilliant.

“Black panthers that he’d made fall in love. They let me pet their baby cub.” Hannah’s eyes gleamed fervently. Forget drugs, this girl’s passion for dangerous wildlife was her addiction of choice. And Pierce had found the most impossibly perfect gift anyone could give her.

“Oh, he’s good,” I replied, fumbling for the zipper to better rip the depressing fashion abomination from my body.

She blinked at me. “Huh?” Her expression turned soft and gooey. “Ooh. Look at that.”

I stepped out of the dress as I followed her gaze to where a little gray fluffball of a bird with a long tail sat outside on my window ledge.

“It’s a Bushtit,” Hannah said.

At her approach, the bird with the unfortunate name burst into song. Then its friend showed up and, I swear, they serenaded her. We were a millisecond away from a Disney moment with Hannarella trilling a tune with her woodland friends while I played Cruella De Vil in the corner, chain smoking and wearing coats made of puppies.

Freaking. Hell.

I strode to the window and banged on it. “Get lost.”

The birds squawked angrily at me and flew off. “Thank God.” I gave a sardonic laugh. “Which one of them, am I thanking exactly? Do I get to pick …” I trailed off, spotting Hannah’s “WTF is wrong with you?” look.

I shrugged and started to rifle through the rest of the dresses that she’d brought. I didn’t realize I was scratching again until Hannah spoke.

“Why haven’t you told me what’s been going on with you?” She did not sound impressed.

I stilled, crumpling the dress in my hands. “Uh, you’ve been busy?”

She tugged the outfit away from me. “Seriously?”

That got my back up. “You have. Between your midterms, and Pierce, and me being here, we haven’t had much of a chance to talk.” Yes, there was a smidge of pity party in my tone of voice. It would have been nice if she’d found a moment or two in her perfect teen life to spare for me.

“I call BS. You’re avoiding me so you don’t have to fess up.” She bestowed one of her patented gray-eyed glowers of death on me as she ticked off items on her fingers. “Headaches, horrible rash, throw in hair loss and your stress trifecta will be perfect.”

“Sounds to me like your intel is already complete.”

She wasn’t letting up. “Assume I want to hear about it from the source. And apparently, I’m waaay behind on what’s going on with Kai.”

“Tonight’s my happy night,” I replied blandly. “Talk to me tomorrow.” I picked up a copper colored dress and held it against me.

She cocked her head before giving it a definitive shake. “No. Washes you out. And if you won’t talk about Kai then let’s talk about how it’s the middle of March but sure doesn’t feel that way.”

I scratched my right arm like mad as I reached for the bottle of Midol on my dresser. A dull throb had set up samba hour in my head. Damn childproof caps. I couldn’t scratch and pop it at the same time. Frustrated, I snarled and tried to bite the thing off.

Hannah droned on. “… Weather patterns aren’t right. It’s too cold to plant anything, which is going to mean havoc for food supplies.” She listed off several more global issues. My personal bad news report.

My palms tingled as my light vines tried to come out.
Some friend
, Persephone taunted.

With supreme will power, I dissipated my light and tightened my hold on the bottle of Midol, staring at the wall, until I was able to calm myself down and face her again. I cut her off. “Do you think I don’t know all that, Pumpkin?” Finally, I got the cap off like a normal person, shook a couple pills directly into my mouth, and dry-swallowed them.

Hannah’s face fell. “I’m scared for you,” she whispered.

I set the bottle back down. I was going to lie but my eyes filled with tears, blowing a perfectly good strategy. “I’m scared for me too.”

And that little admission broke me.