17. Athena
CHAPTER 17
Athena
DECEMBER 26TH 2022
“ A re you okay?”
This isn’t what I wanted for Christmas. Fine, it’s the day after, but getting a 9-1-1 call to say my brother, Apollo, and his best friend, Edith, have been in a pretty serious car crash is the bonus dumpster fire I didn’t need this year.
This. Is. Not. The. Vibe.
Telling Pollo that his father is a traitorous piece of shit while he’s waiting to know what’s going on with his best friend—yeah right, he’s been in love with her for a million years but is too much of a dum-dum to see it.
I know the irony, but it’s different. I don’t know how yet, but it is. Oh, Edith isn’t my best friend. I mean, she’s lovely, don’t get me wrong, and she never puts up with my asshole brother’s shit. I love how she calls him on his crap, but she’s not my best friend the way Scott is best friend to the twins.
Anyway, my body is flooded with so much adrenaline I’m trembling. I feel buzzed, but not the fun buzzed, the I’ve-swallowed-a-gallon-of-anxiety and washed it down with a heavy side of fight-or-flight. I rushed to the hospital not knowing what the fuck was happening with Apollo. The relief of seeing his stupid butt-face in the waiting room with only cuts and bruises to show for it was overwhelming.
He's limping though. I don’t know if that’s something that we need to keep an eye on. I’ve seen enough episodes of Grey’s Anatomy to know that sometimes, okay, most of the time, injuries following an accident develop and get worse in the days that follow.
He’s so tangled up in knots about Edith that I doubt he’ll do anything to help himself. Such a noble idiot.
Put your own oxygen mask on first, hermano.
“Athena?”
A voice pierces my cloudy brain making me jolt into the present. It’s Scott. His face is furrowed with concern. He looks like he’s aged five years. I don’t know when he got here, I don’t know how, and a swirling pit of guilt opens up in my stomach that I didn’t think to message him to tell him about Pollo’s accident.
He’s always so fucking thoughtful, and I’m just… not.
It’s rich he thinks he’s not good enough for me. I heard him that night at Ares’s house, talking himself down, and it made me fucking sick to my stomach.
Ironically, it’s also how I feel. Like my father’s—now sorely tarnished name and his money—are all that I have going for me.
Who is Athena de la Pena without the de la Pena?
No one knows, because all they see when they look at me is the pretty, boss bitch my father raised me to be. But yet, I don’t have a penis so I couldn’t possibly inherit the family business, I must find success by myself.
Not that I mind, I took that ‘boss bitch’ title I hate down to my core and made it a badge of honor. I used to be proud of my family’s name, but now… now I want to destroy it.
Ironically, comparing women to dogs began with the original boss bitch, Artemis. She was the goddess of the hunt, moon, and chastity. I almost snort because I don’t think I’ve ever seen my brother, Artemis, who kind of got the short end of the stick by being named after a woman in the first place, with a girl.
Anyway, the phrase originated to diminish women to a subservient, animal role. It’s disgusting. The patriarchy disgusts me, and if I didn’t love my brother so fucking much, Artemis would disgust me. The female one does. I’d have slapped her silly for coming up with that shit if I was her friend. I mean, sure, how was she to know that any woman with a titanium spine, a cool smile, focused on her career and who doesn’t drop her underwear for a pretty smile would be deemed a boss bitch?
But don’t I have to be?
First born. The oldest of four.
Be the bigger sister, Mija.
Don’t irritate your brothers Mija.
Stop being so dramatic, Mija.
And when Ares started going off the rails, I had to light myself on fire to keep the rest of the family warm. So I took that fucking label, boss bitch and wrapped it around myself like an invincible fucking shield.
“Athena?” Scott’s voice is sharper as his face comes back into focus. He’s pale, scared, and right now it seems he’s not worried about my brother, but more for me.
I want to reach out and touch his face, to smooth out the frown lines between his eyebrows, but I’m not alone in this room. And my family has gone through too much trauma today to think I’m trauma bonding with Scott.
I almost snort again. They’d probably want to protect him from me, not the other way around.
“Yeah.” The word is so unbelievably heavy as I sigh it out of my breath. I blink back into awareness. Waiting room. We’ve been here for hours with Pollo. He’s a wreck.
The more I stare at him the more I see of me in him, which makes me wonder how I’d fare if Scott were in an accident because for as much as I love Savannah, and as much as she’s my best friend… Scott was here first, and despite trying to keep him at arm’s length, I think he knows me best.
My heart tightens at the idea he might get hurt, that I could be the one standing in a room like this waiting for word that he’s made it out of surgery alive. A strangled sound makes it out past my lips, and someone moves to comfort me, but Scott holds out a palm. “It’s okay. I’ve got her.”
And he does. He always does.
His voice is as firm and reassuring as his arms are when he pulls me into them.
I’m pretty sure Artemis says something to Scott about how I’m in shock, how I adore Edith. He’s right, I totally do. She’s the ballbuster my brother needs, but in her own right she’s every bit the Greek mythological being as my brothers and I are named after. But this paralyzing fear isn’t because of Edith, it’s because something could happen to Scott, and he wouldn’t have the first fucking clue of the depth of my feelings for him.
I turn my head to the side, catching a glimpse of a pale and shaky Apollo. Is that what he’s thinking right now? That she could die, and she’d never know he loves her so damn much?
Does Apollo know how much I love him?
Grief makes me squeak again as I’m mentally assaulted by racing thoughts of mortality and loss. If I never said it out loud, could Scott truly know how I feel about him?
The words are right there on the tip of my tongue, ready to slip out into the air for all to hear when the arms holding me against his chest tug me tighter against him.
Artemis says he’s going to take me home but Scott’s body tenses at his words. “I’ve got her,” Scott repeats.
I’d be okay if Artemis were to take me home, I would. But there’s something about being with Scott that lets me take my big sister hat off and just relax. With my brothers I feel like I always have to know what to do in a crisis. They all look to me as their leader, even though I don’t have a dick, and it’s so fucking nice, but sometimes I truly want to throw my hands up and say, “I don’t fucking know,” and have that be okay.
“Don’t take her to the hockey house.”
Scott sighs like he would never have done that anyway, and it’s hard not to smile against his chest. To his credit, he doesn’t react, he doesn’t even sound impatient or offended as he tells my brother that Justin has Savannah over at the hockey house tonight so he’s taking me to my own house where he’ll stay with me all night.
He’s not defensive or confrontational, but he’s firm, like no matter what Artemis says next, Scott isn’t going to let me go without a fight.
Why does that make me warm all over?
My shoulders sag as I learn he won’t leave me by myself. I’m a strong, independent woman who can do anything she puts her mind to, but sometimes I just need someone else to stand by my side for a hot minute.
Artemis suggests maybe taking me to his apartment to stay. I get the ‘why,’ I could put a shirt on that smells like him and be close to both of the twins when they get back from the hospital, but I shake my head.
“I should stay,” I mumble against Scott’s sweater.
“You should not, and you will not.” Scott’s voice is a low, cautionary tale in my ear, sending goosebumps sprouting all over my skin. “You need sleep, and if I have to sit on you to make sure you get it, I will. You don’t want me to sit on you, Bright Eyes. I’m a heavy motherfucker.”
I have no fight left in me to argue, I don’t even want to. I’m deflated. My father’s an asshole, my mother will be the subject of gossip, my brothers are out for blood, one of them almost died tonight, and another member of our family still might.
My shoulders bend under the weight of the stress piling up on them.
There’s a long silence, and since I can’t see anyone’s faces, I can’t tell if my brother is mean-mugging Scott and quietly threatening to beat him to a bloody pulp or what. It seems to take everyone forever to answer.
“Thanks, hermano.”
One of Scott’s hands leave my back, presumably to do some kind of bro-shake with Artemis. “You never need to thank me for taking care of family, Arte. It’s what we do.”
My heart sinks, family. Does he look at me like a sister? I’m pretty sure the way he looks at me sometimes would be considered criminal—in almost every state—if we were siblings but… is that how he sees me?
I turn to say goodnight to my brother, and he hands me a Kleenex. A tentative hand to my face tells me he’s right to. My cheeks are wet, my nose is running, and I probably look like a deranged, Latina version of Helena Bonham Carter in some of her more unhinged movie roles.
After I’ve blown my nose and rubbed my cheeks with my palms, Artemis hands me another tissue, then pulls me against him for a hug.
He must be scared; he’s never really seen me weak like this, so he probably doesn’t know what to do with me.
He kisses me on the forehead. “Todo estará bien, hermana.”
I hope with all my heart he’s right, but in this moment, it feels like everything’s balanced on a knife edge and could go either way. Despite my insides feeling like Jell-O, I nod, trying to put on a brave face for the sake of the twins—story of my life.
“It will be okay.” I speak loudly enough for both of them to hear, Ares too. “Edith will be fine, she’s going to come out of surgery, recover, and go back to kicking Pollo’s ass.”
Ares snickers.
I throw my arms around him, whispering a quick “Don’t get into trouble you little shit,” kind of lecture. It’s mostly tongue in cheek, Eloise has been the calm to his tumultuous storm, and it’s amazing to see.
I don’t have much to say to Apollo, and I refuse to cry again. I hug him, hold him tightly, and demand he calls me if he needs anything, including just a chat with his big sister, no matter the time of day or night.
Scott doesn’t let me linger too much longer before he steps in and places a strong and warm hand at the base of my back. “You going to be okay to walk?”
Jeez. I must be bad. “What’s the alternative? Piggyback?”
He cocks his head to the side, mirth dancing in his eyes and on his lips. “If that’s your chosen method of transportation, I could take you. I could just pick you up and carry you.”
It’s tempting, goddamnit it’s so fucking tempting, but the weight of my brothers’ eyes making me feel prickly stops me. “I can walk.” I’m not sure I can, but somehow Scott gets me to the car and holds his hand out for my keys.
This guy has keys to everything. He’s got his own keys to the hockey house, but he’s also got copies of both twins’ apartments, and Ares’s, in case of emergency.
He also has copies of each of their car keys. The term ride-or-die is taken pretty literally in our family, and Scott is the one they all trust most outside of their blood-bond. In case of emergency, call Scott.
Reliable, dependable, responsible, capable. He’s all those things and more.
“Athena?” He doesn’t snap, but he snaps me out of my own mind to hand him the car key.
He doesn’t have my keys, that would be weird, right? Right? That’s why he doesn’t have them. It is weird. Plus, giving him keys to my life would be so much bigger and mean so much more than my brothers doing it.
We ride the short journey to my apartment in silence, and when we park up in the garage, he opens my door, turns his back to me, and grunts at me to get on his back.
He gives me a goddamn piggyback ride to my apartment, and I have to admit, it’s kind of fun and just the lighthearted moment I needed this evening.
By the time we get my front door unlocked, we’re both laughing. He stumbled on a folded corner of carpet when we stepped out of the elevator and almost went down, but he recovered and kept us both safe.
When I slide down his back onto the floor in my living space, neither of us move. I’m staring at his back, and he’s giving me the space to compose myself. Either that, or he’s fallen asleep on his feet. Could probably go either way to be honest, my whole body is laden with exhaustion.
While I’d love to decompress on the couch with a packet of Twizzlers and a movie, I just can’t bring myself to fight this pull. There is one thing I need to do first, though, and it’s risky. If it goes badly, it’ll make things awkward and could end up with me spending the night by myself, or grabbing a ride share over to the boys’ apartments.
“Scott?”
He turns to face me, his poor face still bruised from fighting and etched with concern.
“I need to say something. And I need you to listen and maybe let me finish before you say anything back, okay?”
My palms are sweaty, legs trembling, and I may vomit. I don’t do this. I don’t put myself in vulnerable positions where people could hurt me. I’m tough, I’m a strong boss bitch, I don’t get googley eyed over a boy, and I certainly don’t say the things that have been bubbling in my mouth for the last few hours.
“Apollo loves Edith.”
His eyebrows tent. “I know.”
“I—wait, what? You know?” I fold my arms, more for protection from the emotions brewing in my body than anything else. “How do you know?” It seems the only people who don’t know that Apollo loves Edith are Apollo and Edith.
My stomach drops. That can’t be the same way for me, could it? Do my brothers know about this thing I have for Scott?
This thing. Ha. This really weird, inconvenient, warm and fuzzy thing .
Scott chuckles at my indignance. “It’s easy when you know what to look for.” He shrugs, speaking softly.
Is that why it took me so long to notice? Because I didn’t know I loved Scott, or what love looked like until I figured my own shit out? Fuck, this is a lot to unpack that I hadn’t planned for.
“Bright Eyes?” He draws my attention up to his handsome face but his eyes glisten with concern. “You look like you’re going to puke, are you okay?”
I nod, he’s not wrong about the puke but if I talk really fast, I can get the words out before the vomit hits. The vomit’s only hitting because of the nature of the talk. At least I think so.
“Okay, well I think it’s clear why I had no idea he loved her. For always?” It’s bugging me I had no idea my brother was in so deep.
Scott nods. “At least since I met him but probably beyond that.”
That makes sense but still rankles me that I didn’t see it.
I stare at his face, his crooked smile, his bright and expressive eyes, and the scars on his face you can only see if you’re up close. Hockey player scars. How many of his teeth are fake?
He’s waiting patiently for me to talk to him, but I can’t pull myself from the staring for a long time. “How many teeth are fake?”
He snorts. “I’m a defenseman, Bright Eyes. The better question would be how many are real?”
There’s no way around it, no way to lead up to it, no way to beat about the bush, and if I don’t tell him right this very second that I have feelings for him, there’s every chance he could get hit by a drunk driver tomorrow, and he’d never know.
“I… Scott.” Fuck, this is harder than anything I’ve ever done in my life, and fucking hell I’ve done a lot of things. Sucking in a slow breath, I wipe my palms on my thighs before trying to recenter.
“I think I’m in love with you.”