Chapter 37 Never Give a Girl a Dented Donut Hole
FIFI AND ARJUN IMMEDIATELY ERUPT into cheers, as do all the other first-year Aphrodites who are in the class, along with Sullivan. Everyone else just kind of glares at me, except Rhea—who immediately starts complaining that I stole the key from her.
Apparently, she’s totally missed the point about envy…
Her complaints don’t upset me overly much—she is who she is, after all—but what does bother me is the way Paris doesn’t stick up for me. In fact, he doesn’t even congratulate me. He just attempts to placate her, and when I try to meet his eyes across the field, he deliberately looks away.
Which makes me mad, sure, but it also hurts me a lot more than I expect it to. Paris and I have had our fights through the years, but he’s always taken my side against any outsiders, and I’ve always done the same for him. Until now.
I watch as Rhea throws me a hate-filled look before allowing Paris—who still refuses to so much as glance my way—to lead her off the field.
“Don’t worry about them,” Sullivan tells me with a surprisingly sweet smile. “You know how Athenas are. They’ll come around eventually.”
“I’m surprised to hear someone from Zeus Hall say that,” Arjun comments as he and Fifi move to flank me. “Aren’t you guys as competitive as Athena Hall?”
“We’re competitive. They’re…” He trails off like he’s trying to think of the right word. In the end he settles for “something else. Besides, I’m pretty much a Zeus in name only. I’m there because my dad, mom, and aunt were all in Zeus Hall when they went here.”
I don’t know what to say to that, so I just nod and look away. Which Fifi takes as a sign that she needs to get me out of here.
“Well, nice talking to you, Sullivan!” she says with a smile so big I’m pretty sure it’s fake. And then she and Arjun all but march me off the field.
“Can you believe that?” Arjun says as soon as we’re out of the earshot of anyone else. “You got the first object!”
“I’m pretty sure we got the first object,” I tell him. “This was definitely a shared triumph.”
“You don’t have to say that.” But he straightens up a little anyway, his face lighting up with obvious pride. “So where do you think we’ll find the next one?”
“The next one?” Fifi looks confused. “We aren’t really going to do this scavenger hunt thing, are we? Levi says Aphrodites never win the hall competition, so we gave up trying years ago.”
“Yeah, but that was in the past. We’re already up by one this year! Don’t you want to at least try to parlay that into a victory for Aphrodite Hall?” I ask.
Fifi looks skeptical, which definitely doesn’t help with the guilt I feel even as I say the words.
On one hand, it felt really nice to be cheered on by all the other Aphrodites in class—and I really do think it would be cool if I could help win this for them after such a long losing streak.
But the other half of me can’t help wanting to win because I’m even more sure now that it will impress Athena.
“It can’t hurt to try,” Arjun agrees. “Besides, who knows? Maybe Ellie will end up getting another object before the day is over.”
“Pretty sure that’s impossible,” I tell him. “But thanks for the vote of confidence.”
As one, we turn back to Fifi. “So, what do you say?” Arjun asks. “You really want Ellie and me to do this without you?”
“Obviously not,” she answers with a roll of her eyes. “But I reserve the right to change my mind if we don’t find anything else this week.”
“This week?” I squawk. “The competition is supposed to last for months!”
“Yeah, well, you’d better get cracking then, huh?” she teases. “But for now, we’ve got to get to logic. Charlie says Dr. Vicenzio gets super mad over tardies.”
As it turns out, we make it to Dr. Vicenzio’s class with three minutes to spare.
I don’t find another object in the class, and neither do any of the other Aphrodites.
We do, however, get assigned our first speech—a five-minute informative oration about one of Anaximander’s contributions to philosophy and/or astronomy.
I think I’m going to do mine on his view on the apeiron—the very first time the concept of infinity was ever introduced. Fifi says it’s a boring topic compared to his advancements in astronomy, but I think it’s interesting and can’t wait to dig into the research.
The rest of my day—the rest of my week, actually—goes much more to plan. Meaning there are no close encounters of the vine kind. There are no upside-down waterfalls trying to drown me. And I get one hundreds on all my assignments—including my homework.
All in all, it’s gone pretty well, if I do say so myself.
There’ve only been two dark spots to mar my otherwise very good week—I hesitate to call it perfect because of the way it started.
One, my mom had a phone delivered to me on Tuesday, which would normally be a very good thing—I’ve missed my reading and music apps more than I thought possible.
Unfortunately, though, she has taken every opportunity since then to blow up that same phone with helpful tips on how I can get myself out of Aphrodite Hall and into Athena, where she constantly reminds me I belong.
All of which means I have to tell her at least five times a day I’ve already tried suggestion number fill-in-the-blank and why it hasn’t worked, or why I can’t try her suggestion because it won’t work.
This has led to a series of very uncomfortable phone calls where she doesn’t bother to hide her disappointment even as she lists off the five people throughout the history of Anaximander’s who have actually been able to change halls.
The fact that she thinks that’s an encouraging statistic considering how many students are here every year shows just how desperate she’s become.
The other dark spot is the fact that, with the exception of Arjun and Fifi, I haven’t been able to get anyone in Aphrodite Hall on board with my plan to win the Pandora’s box competition, which means I’ve pretty much been going it alone so far.
Not a great feeling when both Athena and Zeus Halls are regularly tearing up the campus looking for their artifacts.
I know their objects are hidden in different places from ours—but still. I could really use the help of someone who knows something, anything, more about the school than I do. So far, though, there’ve been no takers. And my independent searches have turned up absolutely nothing.
I’m so desperate that I’ve considered chewing one of my pieces of gum in the hopes that Calliope could help.
The only thing that’s stopped me is I don’t think she knows this campus any better than I do.
And I don’t want to waste any of my pieces this early in the semester if there’s a way I can avoid it.
Which is why I’ve finally come up with another plan.
And why I’m going straight back to the dorm after my last class of the week instead of heading over to the Stoa to hang with Paris for a little while.
There’s a mandatory hall meeting today, and I plan to use the “student concerns” section to talk everyone at Aphrodite into joining my quest.
I’ve been practicing my speech all week. I just hope they don’t say no.
I turn left at the Hall of Legends and start the trek past the amphitheater, hoping I’m going in the right direction. Today’s map was the most mixed-up yet, so it’s pretty much been hit or miss on whether or not I get where I’m going.
As I walk by the front of the amphitheater, I glance inside. And am shocked to see PT tinkering with the cauldron.
Yes, that PT.
He’s dressed in a pair of dark blue coveralls today instead of his farm-stand clothes, but I would recognize that man bun anywhere. Not to mention his very distinctive facial features.
Still, I take a few steps closer, just to be sure. And that’s when I see the COEXIST necklace. Yep, definitely PT. So what is he doing here? And why is he wearing a pair of coveralls that read PT’s Oil and Heating? That’s about as far from cider-and-donut salesman as a person can get.
I tell myself to walk away, that it’s none of my business. But I’ve never been particularly good at that when my curiosity is piqued. Not to mention, I’d really like to know why he didn’t warn me about what to expect with that ridiculous bridge.
My brother, who ate all the normal donut holes, didn’t have a problem. Fifi didn’t have a problem. Arjun didn’t have a problem. No one had a problem but me, and the only thing I can think of is that it’s because of the defective donut hole.
PT really, really should have warned me what I was getting myself into.
I feel like if you’re selling tickets to Armageddon, you kind of owe the people who buy your tickets a little bit of notice about what to expect.
So instead of heading straight back to the dorm to prepare for the meeting—I’ve got time before it starts—I do a quick left turn and head straight into the amphitheater and right up to PT.
He’s on his knees now, underneath the cauldron with a giant wrench in his hand. I start to wait for him to notice me, but after a few minutes pass and he hasn’t so much as stuck his head out, I decide to take matters into my own hands.
I squat down next to him and say, “What exactly are you trying to do?”
He jumps so suddenly that he bumps his head on the bottom of the cauldron, knocking it off its stand completely. Seconds later, it hits the ground, side first.
“A little warning would have been nice next time,” he grumps as he sits up.
“Yeah, it would have,” I answer him with a roll of my eyes.
He lifts a brow as he pushes to his feet. “Something tells me we’re not talking about the same thing.”
“Unless that cauldron grows fangs and starts to smell like death, then no. We’re not,” I huff. “What are you doing here anyway?”
“Trying to fix the fire.” He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “What are you doing here?”
“That’s a weird question—especially from the person who sold me the donut hole that got me here.”
“I meant the amphitheater, not the school. And to be fair, I sold the donut holes to your parents. You were just along for the ride.” The left side of his mouth lifts up in a crooked smile that would be endearing if I wasn’t so annoyed with him.
“Yeah, well, it was a bad donut hole.”
“Yeah, well,” he says, mimicking my tone, “no refunds.”
“Seriously? I don’t want a refund. I just want to know why you sent me over that bridge without giving me a warning about what was waiting for me.”
When he just stands there looking baffled, I cross my arms over my chest and tap my foot. I can wait.
He glances around. “You mean Anaximander’s?”
“Yes, I mean Anaximander’s.” I’m not exactly sure where my sarcasm is coming from—probably the last week of pent-up fear and confusion—but I’m not mad at it. Especially not when he’s playing ignorant after nearly killing me.
“I thought this was where you wanted to be.” He bends down and picks up the giant cauldron, putting it back on the stand like it weighs nothing even though it’s made of pure copper. Then he squats down and gets back to work doing I don’t know what exactly. “You definitely seemed eager to get here.”
I know adults can be hard to talk to sometimes, but this guy is the worst. All I want is an explanation—and maybe an apology—and here he is pretending none of it ever happened.
“You’re not even going to talk about the snakes? Or the poisonous flowers?”
“What are you talking about?” His gaze shoots to mine and he stands back up again, looking much more wary this time as he studies me. “What exactly do snakes and poisonous flowers have to do with the bridge to this place?”
And just like that, something inside me snaps. This guy is the worst. “You know what? Forget it. I don’t know why I thought it’d be worth talking to you. If you didn’t warn me when it could actually help me, why would you say anything about it now?”
I turn and start marching down the aisle. I’ve got better things to do than try to get anything real out of PT.
Except he comes after me—wrench in hand—which is the last thing I expect. “Hey, wait. I feel like we’re not communicating clearly here.”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you!” I blow out a frustrated breath as I turn back around to face him.
“Well, let’s change that, Penelope.” He nods at the cauldron. “I’ve really got to get this thing fixed, and I could use an extra pair of hands while I bang around down there and try and figure out what’s wrong.”
I glance at my phone. I should get going—the meeting’s in an hour, and I wanted to change beforehand—but I do want answers. Plus, it feels nice to be around someone who actually calls me by my name. Also, PT seems a little freaked out, and if he really needs help, I can’t just leave him here.
“Yeah, all right,” I tell him as we walk back toward the cauldron. “What do you need me to do?”
“I think there’s a problem with its igniter. So if you could hold it steady for a few minutes, I just might be able to light this baby up and give the school back its fire.”
“Okay.” I spread my arms wide so I can grab on to both sides of the cauldron. “What made it go out in the first place?”
“I think we’re all still trying to figure that one out.” PT shoots me a look right before he crouches back down. “Now, tell me about your misadventures on the bridge.”
So I do, making sure I don’t leave anything out. When I get to the part about the snakes retreating, PT gives me a steady look that I can’t decipher. But before I can ask him what the look means, he stretches out under the cauldron.
“Keep talking,” he calls. “But can you also hand me my hammer? It’s in the toolbox near your feet.”
I hand him the hammer and keep on with the story while he bangs and clanks and does who knows what else under the cauldron. Only when I’ve finished my story does he sit back up.
“Here, put this away, will you?” He hands me the hammer. “And get me the butane lighter in there with the red base.”
I paw through the toolbox and find several different-colored butane lighters—how much fire does one guy need?—until I finally come across the red one. “That’s it?” I ask as I hand it to him. “That’s all you’ve got to say for yourself?”
PT takes a deep breath, starts to say something. But at the last minute he shakes his head and leans into the cauldron, pressing the button on the lighter to get it to ignite.
Nothing happens—to the lighter or the cauldron—so he tries several more times, to no avail. With a frustrated sigh, he tries to hand the lighter back to me.
I think about not taking it—he still hasn’t told me anything about why my trip on the bridge was different from everybody else’s—but in the end I take the lighter. Not helping him seems rude and won’t change anything that’s already happened.
Except the moment I take hold of the lighter, it ignites. A huge flame shoots out of the tip so hot and so fast that it nearly burns a hole in PT’s coveralls.