Chapter Eleven
Helen rode her bike to school the next morning, giving her dad instructions to tell Lucas that she had a few things to do before homeroom. Jerry was a little put out that Helen refused to call Lucas to explain it herself, but she honestly couldn’t make herself listen to his voice.
“Did something happen at dinner last night?” Jerry asked. She ran out the door and pedaled off before he could get a straight answer out of her.
The cool autumn wind felt good on her face, which was puffy from staying awake half the night with her eyes leaking.
She hadn’t really cried, and never got that explosive release that comes from a good old-fashioned weep-a-thon.
Lying in bed, she’d been too shocked to sob.
She felt like an idiot. She knew there had to be worse things in the world than being dissed by the boy of your dreams, but at that moment, she couldn’t think of any of them.
Kate, Claire, even her dad had asked her repeatedly what was going on between her and Lucas, like it was expected that the two of them would get together eventually, but no one had ever asked Lucas what he thought about being paired off with Helen.
Now Helen knew for a fact that he “would never touch her.” Those words kept coming back to her, not just the words, but how passionately he had said them.
The way he had spoken about her made it seem as if the very thought of kissing her was disgusting to him, and Helen was just as confused by this as she was hurt.
How could he want to hold her hand all the time if he thought she was repulsive?
Helen got to school, locked up her bike, and took an alternate route to her locker. It was longer, but she knew it would be Delos-free, and therefore worth all the extra steps. She had left her house so early that even with the longer walk she beat everyone to homeroom.
When Claire arrived, she noticed immediately how awful Helen looked.
Like the good friend she was, she forgot all about the argument they were supposed to be having, asking Helen a dozen questions about her red face and ratty hair before she had even put down her book bag.
Helen lied as best she could, but so halfheartedly she never would have gotten away with it if Matt didn’t back her up by explaining how sick Helen had been the day before.
It didn’t help that Zach kept making scoffing noises as Helen tried to put Claire off.
Helen ignored him, as she usually did, but she could still feel him watching her with a sneer plastered on his face.
Helen kept her head down all day and did her work.
She found now that she simply didn’t care anymore if she did well in class, drew attention to herself, and potentially got the cramps.
As she walked to lunch she considered faking the stomach pain if it could get her farther away from Lucas.
She didn’t want to go into the cafeteria and face everyone, but she still had to go somewhere, and the auditorium door was right next to her.
It had been left ajar, so Helen pushed it open and went in.
Helen knew she wasn’t allowed in there. Any room that was unsupervised by a teacher was off-limits to students, but that didn’t stop her.
She really didn’t care if she got caught—she just needed a moment alone.
There was only a dim light onstage, and it was very quiet, exactly what Helen was looking for.
She sat down on the apron of the stage and unpacked her lunch box.
Chewing, Helen glanced around, taking note of all the new sets that were just beginning to be built.
The drama club put on two shows a year—a winter play and a spring musical.
She wondered what play the drama club was going to put on, and saw a spare script lying in the wings.
A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Helen opened to the first page and read, scene 1.
athens. the palace of theseus. She rolled her eyes and dropped the script, feeling set up.
Maybe the Fates really did pull all the strings.
Helen zombied her way through the last three periods, but her luck couldn’t hold out all day. When the bell signaling the end of school rang, she rushed to her locker to get to track as quickly as she could, but Lucas was anticipating her.
“Hey!” he shouted from halfway down the hall. He looked big and dangerous as he walked toward her, every step sending underclassmen scurrying to get out of his way. “Where have you been all day?”
“Busy. I can’t be late for track again,” she replied tersely, not looking at him as she dug her stuff out of her locker.
“I’ll walk you,” he said. He tried to get a look at her face.
She kept her head down and her face covered with her hair and didn’t reply. They walked down the hall next to each other at the same pace, but today Helen felt even more lonely with Lucas beside her than she had when she was by herself.
“Why didn’t you call me this morning? I could have picked you up earlier if you needed to stop somewhere,” he said when the silence became intolerable.
“Look, Lucas. The whole ride to school thing is sweet, but I think it’s easier for me to just take my bike. So maybe we should just forget it.”
“You don’t want me to pick you up anymore?” he asked in a cold voice.
“No, I don’t,” she said. They neared the end of the hallway that led down to the locker rooms. She finally turned to look at him, which she shouldn’t have. He looked hurt.
“Okay,” he said, barely above a whisper. “Are you going to tell me what I did wrong or am I supposed to guess?”
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Helen answered listlessly. He looked at her, waiting to feel the lie, but there wasn’t one. The light scattered momentarily around his face, hiding his expression.
“You’ll be able to get yourself to my house after track?” he asked as he glanced around, so confused he didn’t know where to look or what to say.
“About that,” Helen started, trying to think up a believable excuse.
“You’re coming. We still haven’t found those two women and now Creon is out there. Learning to defend yourself is more important than what I did or didn’t do to piss you off,” he said, suddenly angry.
She nodded, knowing it was stupid of her to even suggest giving up her training.
She could barely see him through the confusing images he was creating as he bent the light around him.
It was as if there were three of him for a moment, whirling around like she was looking at him through a kaleidoscope.
She kept her head down and her eyes behind her hair until his image stilled and she could look at him without getting dizzy.
“Do you want me to stay away from you for the rest of the day?” he asked in a carefully controlled voice.
No, she thought. And yes. Both answers were completely true. She couldn’t lie to him, but the truth had suddenly become very slippery.
“I think that would be best,” she mumbled.
He didn’t say anything. He just turned on his heel and left her.
“Hi, Luke . . . bye, Luke,” Claire said as she joined them. She looked back and forth at the two of them. “Fight?”
Helen shrugged and took Claire’s hand, leading her into the locker room. “I don’t really care,” was all she had the energy to say.
As they ran the trail she asked about Claire’s day. She let Claire in on the auditorium secret, and told her to tell Matt about it, too, in order to avoid a friendship meltdown. Claire looked at her funny, but she didn’t ask any questions.
Helen felt as if the whole world had turned into some gigantic punch line that she had waited patiently for, and then when she heard it she found it insulting.
If she had been in a comedy club she would have gotten up and walked out, but instead she had to go to the comedian’s house after school and let his cousin beat the crap out of her.
When track was over, Helen dutifully rode her bike to the Delos compound, arriving before Lucas, Jason, and Hector did.
She went down to the tennis courts, which were in the process of being converted into a proper fighting arena with a sandy bottom, and looked around.
There was a sword on the ground. She picked it up and gave it a swing to see how it felt.
It felt goofy as hell. Helen supposed she wasn’t a swordswoman.
“I think Hector wants you to learn the spear first. It’s considered traditional,” Cassandra said behind her.
“Wouldn’t want to mess with tradition,” Helen said sarcastically as she threw the sword down, point first, into the sand so that the hilt made a cross above the ground.
“Yes, you would. In fact, I think that’s what your mother had in mind for you all along,” Cassandra said in that spooky, faraway voice she had a tendency to slip into at crucial moments. “But naming you is something your mother did in the past, and I can only see the future.”
“You’re an oracle!” Helen said, astonished. She should have known all along.
Suddenly, she wasn’t so sure she wanted to be alone with Cassandra. There was something wrong about her eyes. Helen started to circle around her, always keeping an equal distance between them, but subtly closing the gap between herself and the exit.
“Delphi, Delos. And the Oracle at Delphi was always one of Apollo’s chosen priests,” Helen said as evenly as she could, trying to keep Cassandra distracted.
“Close. The Oracle was always one of Apollo’s Scions, and always a priestess. A girl,” Cassandra said bitterly. “The Oracle of Delphi is the female offspring of Apollo and the Three Fates.”
“I’m pretty sure that wasn’t in the book you gave me,” Helen said uncertainly as Cassandra pulled the sword out of the ground, hefted it in her hand thoughtfully, and took a few steps toward her.