Chapter Fourteen #2
Lucas wouldn’t leave her, and Helen knew she could kill him if she didn’t do this right.
She racked her lightning-filled brain and luckily remembered fourth-grade science class.
Desperate to rid herself of the monster she had summoned, she slid on her knees to the exit door at the end of the hall and rammed her shoulder against it.
As soon as she came in contact with the metal release bar that ran across the middle of the door it glowed orange with heat and started melting.
She barely moved fast enough to open it before the whole door turned into a solid block of smoldering metal.
Tumbling down the short flight of steps and crawling outside on her knees, she threw herself forward onto her hands.
With a welcome sigh she discharged her bolt into the one place that it would be safely dismantled—the ground.
After a few seconds she felt herself get pulled up from the forgiving earth and carried away.
“Are you injured?” Lucas asked anxiously.
“Just wicked tired,” she sighed, a little surprised at herself for using the word wicked. She was too weary to care. “Really, put me down,” she demanded when he didn’t respond. He stopped and balanced her on her feet. She rubbed her tongue across her teeth and then sucked at the roof of her mouth.
“Wow, I’m thirsty! And I think I know why!
It’s like lightning, right? So that means I’m generating the electic—I mean, erlecic—I mean, the bolt—by ripping apart the water in my body!
That makes total sense,” she said, hearing herself sound like a cheerleader who had suddenly figured out how her pom-poms were made.
“Helen? You’re scaring me. Here, sit, please. Do you need something?” Lucas asked, making her look him in the eye. She still seemed to be throwing off sparks.
“I do need something,” she said, struggling to control her diction and her fuzzy brain as best she could.
“I need to tell you what’s going on, so that you and I don’t accidentally kill each other over a dumb misunderstanding, and I need you to promise me that if I tell you, you’re not going to beat anyone up. ”
“I don’t think I like this deal,” he said dubiously.
“Tough.”
He nodded his agreement. She looked around for a moment and then decided to sit down on the top step of the outside stairs before she fell down.
“Zach was the one who saw me chasing Creon. He dropped some pretty threatening hints in class the other day, about me and about you and how abnormally fast and strong we all are. Now he keeps trying to talk to me alone and I think he might be trying to blackmail me or something. I’ve been dodging him for as long as I can because . . .”
“The longer you wait, the more likely it is that the whole thing turns into a big fish story and no one believes him, anyway,” Lucas finished for her with a knowing nod.
“Right. You are so smart,” Helen marveled.
“And your brain is fried,” Lucas said, smiling at her indulgently. The smile fell away. “Because of me. I’m such an idiot,” he mumbled, looking down at his twisting hands.
“Correction, you’re a jealous idiot, and that has to change right now,” Helen replied seriously, still feeling light-headed, but fighting her way through it. “You have no reason to be jealous. I told you that I don’t want anyone but you. I never have.”
“You’ve lived your whole life on this island, you don’t know what ‘anyone’ means yet,” he sighed.
“And you have no idea how . . . Attractive isn’t the right word.
It doesn’t fully describe the effect you have on men.
On me. Look, I’m not a jealous person, Helen, really.
All the other girls I’ve dated . . .” Lucas broke off, took a breath, and regrouped his thoughts before starting again.
“You know, I never believed in ‘The Face That Launched a Thousand Ships’ thing. I used to hate that part in the Iliad. I even laughed at it,” he said.
Then he paused and shook his head ruefully as he raised his eyes to the sky for a moment, mentally kicking himself.
“It’s ridiculous, when you think about it.
A ten-year war because some selfish coward ran off with an unfaithful woman?
It made me angry, and I hated Paris and Helen for being so weak.
Then I did something very, very stupid. I swore I would never have made the same choices they did—that I would have been stronger.
Then, two weeks later, I saw your face for the first time. ”
“Wait,” Helen said. She blinked with thirst, fatigue, and shock. “I’m not some spoiled queen who left her husband, ran off with another guy, and destroyed an entire city. I don’t care what my rotten mother named me, I’m nothing like Helen of Troy.”
“It doesn’t matter what either of our mothers named us,” he said with an ironic laugh. “Trust me.”
“Hamilton!” yelled Coach Tar, clutching her clipboard and marching toward them with her eyes wide. “Are you on fire?!”
Helen looked at where Coach was pointing and realized that the ground all around her was seared and black. The exit door looked like something out of a Dali painting.
Luckily, Lucas was a fantastic liar. As a bevy of teachers came rushing to their aid, he explained that there had been some kind of electrical sparking from above the door, suggesting that perhaps the exit sign had shorted.
He and Helen had run outside to stomp out the sparks that had drifted onto the grass.
As he wove his story, Helen could hear how honest he sounded, how convincing.
She nodded every time he looked at her, knowing that she needed to keep her mouth shut or she’d ruin the whole thing.
Since the fire was obviously electrical and the only possible source was the exit sign, the story was believed.
Helen and Lucas insisted they were uninjured, but as a precaution they were told to go to the nurse’s office for a quick checkup.
Just before Lucas led her away, Helen spotted Zach staring at them from the crowd, his eyes frightened and resentful.
He knew they’d caused the fire. Helen touched Lucas’s shoulder and pointed Zach out, and Lucas nodded, understanding her meaning perfectly.
“So much for letting it blow over,” she murmured ruefully.
“We’ll discuss it tonight with my family. Cassie will know what to do,” he whispered, taking her sooty hand in one of his and texting his cousins with the other as they walked down the hall to the nurse.
Mrs. Crane checked them over, shook her head in wonder, and declared them both perfectly well enough to go home, or even back to practice if they wanted, though she gave both of them a nonsensical lecture about hanging around under electrical death traps.
Then she looked at Helen’s necklace and smiled sweetly. “I’ve always loved butterflies,” she murmured, lightly touching Helen’s charm, before shooing them both out of her office in her stern but kindly way.
Helen and Lucas beat everyone else back to the Delos compound, deciding once they arrived that they were entitled to a few moments of relaxation before they began what Helen had started thinking of as her superhero lessons.
They stopped in the kitchen to get Helen another bottle of water and then went for a little fly.
“Jase and Hector will call when they’re home from practice. We’ve still got about another hour or so,” Lucas said confidently when they touched down in the dunes. They walked down to the half-damp sand that was flat and firm and perfect for a stroll.
“We’re supposed to have our first track meet next weekend,” Helen said suddenly, biting her lip with worry. “I don’t know if Coach’ll let me run after missing so many practices.”
“Yeah, about that,” Lucas said, sighing heavily and making her stop and face him. “You need to quit track.”
Helen stared at him for a moment. “Quit track? Are you nuts? How else am I going to get a scholarship?”
“That doesn’t matter anymore,” Lucas said, shaking his head.
“Doesn’t matter? Lucas, this is my life you’re talking about.”
“Exactly. You’ve been attacked, how many times now?
We still don’t know who those women are.
And I don’t think you realize just how big a threat Creon is even with me standing right next to you, let alone when you go running off by yourself across the island.
This is your life we’re talking about, not just an athletic scholarship,” he said evenly, calmly. “I want you to quit. For now, anyway.”
“You have got to be kidding me,” she replied, completely deadpan.
“I’m not. Quit track. Until we figure out how to deal with Creon, it’s too dangerous.”
“What if I just walked up to you and told you to quit football?” she asked sarcastically.
“Done,” he said, holding his hands out in a placating gesture. “I told you once, and I meant it, that I’d never ask you to do something that I wouldn’t do myself. We’re in this together.”
“You’re . . . That’s . . . I can’t believe you’re putting this on me!” she yelled, pointing a finger at him childishly. She stomped around in a circle, kicking at the sand and trying to figure out why she was so upset.
“I’m not putting it on you! It’s on both of us! That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” he urged, raising his voice in frustration.
“I’ve always felt stuck on this island, and I always thought track would be my one way to get off of it. Now you’re telling me to give up on all of my plans like it’s the easiest thing in the world!”
“It’s easier than dying!” he shouted at her, but there was a humorous lilt creeping into his voice and a smile tugging at his lips. “And I don’t know if you’ve noticed this or not, but you can fly. You’re not going to be stuck anywhere again!”