Chapter 12 Every Gumball Has Its Day
SOMEHOW—I DON’T KNOW HOW—I slam into the ground several feet back from the edge of the cliff.
The crash knocks what little breath I have out of me, and I roll, soundlessly, breathlessly, across the craggy, rocky cliff until I smash into the base of a giant tree. For long seconds I can’t do anything but lie there, stunned and gasping for breath, even as the coin starts burning in my hand.
Eventually I manage to suck in a little bit of air. But as soon as I do, my whole body revolts. I start coughing and choking, coughing and gagging, coughing and spewing out water, over and over until my lungs finally remember how to work.
When I’ve finally gotten rid of most of the water, I try to take a second to breathe—just breathe—but time is running out. So I stagger to my feet, coin still clutched in my fist, and look around for a way back to the amphitheater.
When the ground twisted or whatever the heck happened, I got completely turned around. Every direction but down looks the same up here on this cliff, and I don’t have a clue which way to go. I start to pick a random direction, but before I can take more than a step, the sparkles are back.
Instead of coming for me, though, they head straight for the tree line. Once there, they dance on the wind, knocking hundreds—maybe even thousands—of leaves off the trees on this side of the waterfall.
As if that isn’t strange enough, the leaves die the second they fall from the tree branches. They turn different shades of brown and gray as they float to the ground…in a pattern that looks very much like the cobblestone path I followed earlier.
Which is totally bizarre…but also all the sign I need.
I take off down the path, running as fast as I can as I pray that I’m heading in the right direction, and that somehow—someway—I’ll find the amphitheater just around the next corner.
Turns out it’s not around the next corner, or even the three after that, but as I finally—finally—burst out of the forest, I can see the top of the amphitheater in the distance.
There are a couple of buildings between it and me, buildings that look nothing like the Stoa and classroom buildings I saw earlier.
But I don’t worry about how that’s possible—the ground did shift, after all.
Instead, I push myself to run faster, my now completely waterlogged Vans squelching with each step I take.
I weave around the buildings without even noticing them, my eyes firmly on the prize of the amphitheater.
Chest heaving, muscles aching, heart nearly pounding right out of my chest, I push myself faster, harder, than I ever have before. And then suddenly…it’s right there, the entrance looming wide and large directly in front of me.
As I race through the huge opening on this side of the amphitheater, I realize the time clock wound down before I made it back.
Embarrassed to be late again, I pull up, sharp and hard, at the edge of the stage so I can catch my breath.
And so I can figure out what’s been happening in here while I’ve been gone.
The answer is a lot.
While I was chasing my coin, huge banners have been placed equidistant around the bleachers, creating five distinct sections.
Most students are now sitting behind a banner the same color as what they’re wearing.
The Athena banner, light blue with a picture of her snow-white owl emblazoned in the center of it, marks section one—all the way to my right.
My heart skips a beat when I see it. I’m so close to getting there—getting everything that I’ve planned for and dreamed about—that I can barely believe it. I can’t wait. I squeeze the coin in the palm of my hand, determined to hold on to it until it’s finally my turn.
As I suck another deep breath into my lungs, I look around to see where the other halls are located.
Next to Athena is section two, delineated by a turquoise banner with a large silver trident on it—definitely Poseidon Hall.
Directly in the middle of the stands—big surprise—is the purple-and-gold Zeus Hall banner, complete with a jagged lightning bolt ripping diagonally from the top right corner to the bottom left one.
Next to Zeus is the black-and-gray banner belonging to Hades Hall. It’s decorated with an array of forget-me-not flowers and, surprisingly despite its dismal colors, it’s the prettiest of the banners.
And finally, all the way to the left side of the seats, is the banner for Aphrodite Hall. It’s a giant, bright pink heart with a dark red, glittery apple sitting directly in the center of it.
Glitter on their hall banner? Really? I swear the Aphrodites don’t take anything seriously.
Thankfully, they aren’t my problem. But still, it’s all I can do to keep from rolling my eyes as I move from the banners to the rows and rows of students sitting behind them in the bleachers.
From where I’m standing, it looks like every section is filled to capacity—every one, that is, except the Athena area, where there’s one empty seat in the very first row, right next to the banner.
My seat, I realize, as I swipe my still wet and now wildly wavy hair off my forehead.
It’s waiting for me—I just have to claim it.
Soaking wet and messy haired isn’t exactly the look I’d planned on when I finally got to join Athena Hall, but after everything I’ve been through today, I’ll take it any way I can get. I just need to figure out what to—
“Eduardo Garcia.” The name rings through the amphitheater in Dr. Themis’s bell-like tones. “Please step forward.”
I watch as Eduardo—a short kid with black hair and a skinned knee who has been standing a few feet away from me this whole time—walks to the front of the orchestra, where Dr. Themis is standing next to what looks like…a giant gumball machine?
That can’t be right. Surely this sacred selection process—the process that determines what hall we will be in for the next six years—isn’t determined by what color gumball we get, is it?
And if so, how did I miss it? The thing is bright red and massive and sitting directly in the center of the orchestra area, right next to the flameless cauldron.
That’s it. I’m blaming it on the hair in my eyes—and my laser focus on Athena Hall.
Eduardo’s steps get smaller and slower the closer he gets to the gumball machine.
I can’t help but notice that it’s almost empty—just three lonely gumballs rest at the bottom of the machine’s huge glass globe.
Obviously one of them belongs to Eduardo and one belongs to me. But who does the third one belong to?
I glance around, trying to figure out if there’s another student I missed. But there’s no one around who I can see. Then again, I did miss the giant gumball machine directly in the middle of the orchestra, so I’m not exactly counting on my observational skills at the moment.
Or maybe—and this maybe fills me with a giddy combination of glee and relief—I’m not actually the last student to make it to the amphitheater this time. Maybe, just maybe, there’s someone else who had even more trouble getting their coin than I did.
While I hate to wish what I just went through on anyone—I can still feel the water slamming into my lungs, choking me—I’d be lying if I said I’m not hoping there’s someone else who is even later.
Someone else who can take the heat off me, considering that awful woman I encountered earlier is once again glaring at me.
The amphitheater grows quiet as Eduardo’s shaky hand reaches up to slide his coin into the slot in the machine.
His back is to me, but video of the moment is being streamed onto a screen next to the stage, so I get to watch in perfect detail as he convulsively swallows before reaching for the lever on the front of the machine.
He turns it once, twice, three times, until it finally clicks.
As it does, one of the gumballs—the bright orange one—disappears from the clear globe at the top.
Seconds later, Eduardo bends down and opens the little metal door beneath the lever and the orange gumball rolls out and into the palm of his hand.
Except, as he holds it up, I realize it’s not actually a gumball at all. It’s a plastic sphere that splits right down the middle. Eduardo holds his breath—and so do I—as he twists the ball open and a tiny gold owl falls into his palm.
“Athena Hall, please give a warm round of applause to your newest member!” Dr. Themis trills into the microphone.
Dignified clapping—what else would you expect from Athena—follows her announcement, and I watch in horror as Eduardo walks over to the open spot at the front of the Athena section and sits down.
In my seat!
Desperation claws through me as I scan the bleachers, looking for another opening.
Any other opening. There has to be one—there just has to be—and I finally spot a tiny sliver of space next to a boy with shaggy red hair.
Paris! Of course he got Athena Hall too.
And of course he saved a seat for me. I’d do the same for him.
“Students, thank you so much for your participation in today’s assembly,” Dr. Themis continues after a few moments. “Not to mention your patience as we sorted all the new students into their halls. We have a few more things to discuss before the grand finale—”
She breaks off as the Athena woman with the pinched mouth and narrowed eyes steps forward to speak to her. She whispers in Dr. Themis’s ear so no one can hear what she’s saying. But considering she’s staring in my direction while she does, I’m pretty sure the message is about me.
Sure enough, Dr. Themis whirls around, her bright amber eyes wide with shock. “We’ve missed someone? How is that possible?”
A surprised murmur works its way through the stands as her gaze collides with me. “Well, well, it looks like you are correct, Ms. Beetlemeyer. Somehow, we’ve missed Penelope Weaver.”
She beckons me forward, a welcoming smile on her face despite the confusion still visible in her eyes. Of course, that could be because—as far as I can tell—I’m the only student in the entire amphitheater who’s currently soaking wet.
Which isn’t awkward at all.
Since there’s nothing I can do about that fact until I get assigned to Athena Hall and can unpack and change my clothes—not to mention get some new hair ties—I do the only thing I can do right now. I follow Dr. Themis’s instructions and walk straight toward her and the gumball machine.
Of course, my waterlogged shoes squelch and belch with every step I take. Which would be embarrassing under normal circumstances—with the entire amphitheater looking on, it’s completely and totally humiliating.
On the plus side—if there is a plus side—at least they aren’t muddy anymore. Turns out old PT was right about one thing after all.
I start to duck my head, to let the wild mess of my hair fall in my face in an effort to hide my burning cheeks. Of course, every move I make is being broadcast on the giant screen so that everyone in the entire place can see, so something tells me a little hair isn’t going to cover anything up.
Besides, Athena girls don’t hide.
The reminder has me straightening my shoulders and lifting my head as I finally reach Dr. Themis and the gumball machine.
“Do you have your coin?” she asks, a little doubtfully.
Not that I blame her. A quick glance at the screen shows me that I’m an even bigger disaster than I originally thought.
My perfectly pressed shirt is ripped in two places, there’s a giant streak of mud across my shorts, my legs and arms are all scratched up, and my hair is exploding out from my head in all directions.
Never in my worst nightmares did I imagine this is how my first day at Anaximander’s would go.
But short of the ground opening up to swallow me whole—something I don’t put past it, considering the shake and quake it put on earlier—right now there’s nothing for me to do but get through this.
Get my gumball sphere thing, join Athena Hall, and put this whole, awful morning behind me.
“I do.” Sheer will alone keeps my voice from trembling like the rest of me as I hold my coin up for her inspection.
“Very well, then, Penelope.” She smiles warmly. “Let’s just see where your place is here at Anaximander’s.”
She waves me toward the gumball machine, and I forget all about the way I look. I forget about my hair, about my torn shirt, about the gross squelching of my shoes, and focus totally and completely on what’s about to happen.
Like my parents and grandparents before me, I’m finally going to be in Athena Hall.
I lean forward to drop my coin in the slot as everyone looks on. My wet fingers slip a little when I start to turn the lever, but I just hold on tighter as I twist it around and around.
Three turns in, it finally stops and I hear the click of a plastic ball sliding into the chute.
It’s time. It’s finally time.
I take a deep breath and try to calm my wildly beating heart as I bend down to lift the little silver door.
Only, the moment I do, two balls roll out instead of one. I catch the green one, then watch in horror as the red one rolls across the orchestra floor until it runs straight into Dr. Themis’s gold sandals.