Chapter 40 Meet and Sweet
I’M NOT SURE WHAT I was expecting when Fifi told me Aphrodite Hall had a candy room.
Maybe a closet full of candy bars or several jars filled with brightly colored individual candies?
Maybe even a few shelves with a bunch of fancy chocolates—she is the goddess of love, after all.
But whatever I imagined, it doesn’t even come close to reality.
Then again, I think Arjun—and even Fifi, who’d been told about the place by her brother and sister—wasn’t any better prepared for what was waiting for us than I was. Because this isn’t some oversize coat closet filled with a dozen different candies or so.
No, this room is wild—and filled with more kinds of candy than I’ve seen in my entire life. And the smell—it’s somehow sweet and sour at the same time. And absolutely mouth-wateringly delicious. It’s also packed with other students, and I can definitely see why.
Two of the walls in the room are covered with the same gummy-bear wallpaper that’s in the hallway. But the other two are covered with strip after strip of white paper covered in multicolored candy buttons alternating with strips of sugar-coated, rainbow-colored sour strips.
Running the length of one of the gummy-bear walls is a row of the biggest candy dispensers I have ever seen.
Each one is filled with a different gummy candy—worms, frogs, bears, fruit shapes, building-block shapes, lightning bolts, flowers, hearts, owls.
If you can think of the shape, it’s in one of these dispensers.
The opposite wall is also covered with dispensers, but these hold every small candy imaginable, from jelly beans to M&M’S and from Skittles to Hershey’s Kisses.
Candy striped columns with giant glass bowls on all sides—each one filled with a different kind of candy confection—run in a line down the center of the room.
Giant licorice ropes and curtains of rock candy hang from the ceiling, while huge lollipop trees reside in each corner of the room.
And in the very center of the room is a gigantic, round, multitiered table filled to bursting with caramel and candy apples.
As we wander farther into the room, I blink a few times, convinced I’m hallucinating.
This can’t all be for Aphrodite Hall, can it?
And if it is, how long does it take the students here to go through it?
Not that I doubt their appetites. It’s just that there’s so much candy.
“Where do we start?” I ask, but Fifi and Arjun have already grabbed heart-shaped baskets from the container on the wall and started loading them with everything imaginable.
A bunch of other Aphrodites are doing the same thing, so I take a basket and try to figure out where to start. One caramel apple covered with crushed toffee and a handful of gummy worms later, I follow my friends back to the elevator.
“That was the coolest thing ever!” Fifi gushes. “I wanted to get everything, but I tried to have some self-control.”
I glance down at her basket overflowing with chocolate bars, marshmallows with sprinkles, and a bunch of packs of Skittles.
“Out of curiosity, what does no self-control look like?” I tease.
She laughs. “Way more candy bars, obviously.”
“Obviously,” I laugh, then glance at Arjun’s haul.
“Three different kinds of caramel apples?” I ask, brows raised.
He shrugs. “It lets me pretend I’m being healthy. And then I don’t feel guilty for eating all of them.”
“A man after my own heart,” Fifi sighs.
“Oh, yeah?” His brows go up. “That basket makes you feel healthy?”
“No, but I don’t have any guilt about it,” she retorts with a grin, “so we’ve got that in common.”
I laugh right along with them, but as soon as we get to the hallways with the mosaics in them, I can hear that weird sound again.
But I do my best to ignore the noise. I know people are into white and brown noise—my mom never sleeps without the sound of a thunderstorm in the background—but this isn’t like that. It’s just really, really irritating.
We take the elevator to the rooftop. There is an official assembly hall on the second floor, but from what I can tell, no one ever uses it. They much prefer to hang out on the roof.
And I can definitely see the appeal. As we look for three empty chairs together, it’s hard not to admire the way the sun shines through the trees.
Or enjoy the sound of a waterfall in the not-so-distant distance.
I’m especially proud of myself because, based on the location of the classroom buildings and amphitheater today, I can say with almost total certainty that the upside-down waterfall is to our left—about two hundred yards through the trees from here.
We find chairs under a cluster of fairy lights at the edge of the roof just in time, because I barely make it into my seat before Dr. Dione starts the meeting. Apparently, trying to chase down moving mosaic tiles takes longer than I thought.
“Well, hello, Aphrodites!” Dr. Dione says, sounding more like a game show host than the head of a hall at Anaximander’s.
Today she’s dressed in a deep-red suit and the highest heels I’ve ever seen in real life.
“Thank you so much for coming to today’s meeting.
Pizza will be delivered in half an hour, and we’ll be showing a movie up here directly afterward. ”
She gestures behind her, and for the first time I realize there’s a huge screen set up at the other end of the roof.
I checked out a bunch of books on Pandora and Anaximander’s from the library today, and I thought I’d spend the evening reading them, trying to figure out what the two have in common.
I feel like if I figure that out, I’ll get a really good hint as to where at least a few of the objects for the scavenger hunt are located.
But this seems like a lot more fun.
Then again, this whole meeting seems like a lot more fun than I expected it to be.
Dr. Dione only talks for a couple minutes before she turns the meeting over to Levi and Elysia, who run through a bunch of programs they have planned for the next couple of weeks—including weekly movie nights, auditions for an air-band competition, another dance next Friday, plus cookie-making Tuesdays and video game Wednesdays.
I know Paris made Athena Hall sound really cool with its amazing library—the thing I am absolutely jealous of the most—but Aphrodite Hall seems like way more fun. Especially since—if my mother and father are anything to go by—Paris is probably eating carrots and hummus for a snack right now.
Not that I have anything against either carrots or hummus, but this caramel apple is way, way better.
Once they’re done talking to us about the Aphrodite activity schedule, Levi and Elysia break us into groups to do a team-building activity.
I’m horrified when they announce we are getting into groups of six with one member from each grade so we can get to know Aphrodites at all levels. And that’s before they tell us we have to work together to come up with a brand-new dance for social media.
Dancing isn’t something I’m good at at the best of times. Doing it with a bunch of upperclassers staring at me and trying to help is a million times worse. At least to begin with. But by the end, I’m laughing as hard as everyone else.
And that’s before our group’s dance is voted the winner!
I never thought I’d be proud of something like that, but when Levi calls us up to accept the Aphrodite Hall trophy—a giant black swan named Eliza who is decked out in a lot of sequins—I volunteer to babysit her until next month’s meeting, when she has to be passed on to the new icebreaker winners.
After our sweep of the team dances, Dr. Dione announces the pizza will be here any minute—which I take as a kind of now-or-never on the whole Pandora’s box thing. Because if I don’t get everybody’s attention, and cooperation, before the food arrives, I know I’m done for.
Which is why, when Dr. Dione asks if anyone has any questions, I hand Eliza to Fifi for safekeeping and make my way to the front of the chairs.
“Actually,” I tell her once we’re face-to-face, “I want to talk to everyone about winning the Pandora’s box competition.”
Her brows shoot up. “Aphrodite Hall doesn’t really participate in the yearly hall competition. But that’s not to say we can’t. I have to admit, Ellie, I like your style. Please, take it away.” She sweeps her arm out in a “they’re all yours” kind of gesture.
I spent last night preparing—and memorizing—my speech about this, but the second the eyes of over one hundred Aphrodites look at me, my entire mouth turns into the Sahara. Actually, no. It turns into the Atacama Desert, because everyone knows it’s even drier than the Sahara.
But my bizarre knowledge about deserts doesn’t matter here. What does matter is the fact that I forget every word of the speech I practiced no less than a hundred times yesterday.
Every single word.
And everyone is staring at me.
“Um…,” I start out, because who doesn’t love a bunch of verbal static at the beginning of a speech. “I was…um…”
My eyes meet Fifi’s in the crowd, and I must look really freaked out, because my roommate—who has fast become my best friend—jumps out of her seat, swan and all, and rushes to the front of the crowd to join me.
Once there, she links arms with me and says, “What Ellie is trying to say is that we think it would be a really good idea to win the Pandora’s box competition this year!”
Her statement is met with blank, unenthusiastic silence.
But she wouldn’t be Fifi if she let a little resistance get her down.
She just gives them the same look she gives me when she wants me to do something and says, “Come on! We all know the Zeus and Athena kids are the worst. They’re arrogant and egotistical and total know-it-alls who think they are so much smarter than the rest of us. ”