Intrigue (2 page)

My mom scowled and said “
Lethe
Edonides, language! How can we stop Calli from swearing like a sailor if you keep using profanity in front of her?”

You knew my dad was in trouble when my mom called him by his full name. I had to admit my mom’s concern was valid. I followed in dad’s footsteps on the salty language. But I found a compromise that was inspired by my need to mock our school mascot. We’re the Fighting Falcons. So, my favorite swear words were Flock and Eyas (Falcon). It’s much more amusing when combined with other phrases like Flock Off….Flock You…. Flocker…. Eyasholes…. Jackeyas…. Eyashats and although it still annoyed my mom, she saw it as a vast improvement over my other salty vocab.

“I will admit I appreciate her attempt at creative swear words, but mostly because it keeps you from yelling at me, Mimsy,” dad laughed.

I thought I had it bad with Calliope. My poor mom’s given name was
Mnemosyne
, hence the shortened version of Mimsy. Mom just shook her head and grumbled, “There is pot roast still in the slow cooker if your dad hasn’t already ate it.” Mom was a huge fan of slower cookers—just throw some food in it before you leave for work, and magically it turns into a meal by the time you come home. I walked into our kitchen to pull out a paper plate and plastic wear to put my pot roast on. Since I was the one that does the dishes, I tended to use disposable dining wear as much as possible. I took my pot roast back to the living room to recount my day as I ate, which was the requirement in my family. I had mastered the art of only giving enough information to my parents, so they felt like they were informed. It was a fine line--too much information led to more interrogation and too little information leads to major snooping. Thrace believed that I had developed the rare ability to express something while revealing nothing. However, I couldn’t shake the feeling that a sorcerer with laughing hazel eyes might have the ability to see beyond all my fine lines. I smiled at that whimsical thought as I finished my pot roast and parental interrogation.

Chapter 2: Mortal Combat

I woke up groggy because I set my alarm for a half hour earlier than usual to get ready to work out. I don’t know why I did that. Ok. I might know why I did that, but 6:00am was too early for rational thought. I kept my outfit simple with black yoga pants and a retro Offspring tee. It was much more difficult to get my thick auburn hair to calm down after a night of restless sleep. Luckily, I didn’t get any zits overnight which would have been just my luck. After some leave-in conditioner and some shine spray, I hoped my hair no longer looked like a bird’s nest.

I headed downstairs just in time to see my dad coming from the kitchen with his coffee, my Mt. Dew, and Zone bar. Hello, my name is Calliope, and I am an addict. My drug is caffeine. I like my caffeine cold usually in the fountain pop variety—Mt. Dew in the morning and Diet Dr. Pepper in the afternoon. I like the ice and carbonation, but in the morning on the way to work out, I’ll take what I can get. I thanked my dad for my version of breakfast as we walked to the car. He only grunted his reply. We slid into the white Taurus and headed to the YMCA. I actually started to get nervous, as we got closer. We were at the Y before I was mentally prepared. I sighed and lumbered out of the car. As we walked in and headed toward opposite locker rooms, dad announced, “Meet you back here in an hour, Calli.”

I dropped my bag in any empty locker then headed to the room where we had our karate lessons. Rafe was leaning against the door looking relaxed and refreshed. I hated him. How could he look that good this early? It was not natural. I tried to reign in my resentment and grumbled, “Morning.”

An amused expression crossed his face as he replied, “Morning, Sunshine.”

My surliness returned as I accused, “Please tell me you’re
not
a morning person.”

His wicked laugh flustered me, as he replied, “Definitely not I’m a night owl usually, but I have already run a bit this morning to get my blood flowing. Since we’re probably on the clock, let the mortal combat commence.”

“I hope you don’t mind me taking a couple of minutes to stretch. I can’t properly kick your eyas if I’m not loose,” I snarked with false bravado.

He unleashed his hypnotic laugh again as I lowered myself to the floor, “Stretch all you want. I don’t mind the view,” he replied with amusement.

I immediately became self-conscious as he watched me closely while I warmed up. He was leaning on the wall beside the door with his arms crossed and a slight smile on his face. I got the sense that he was evaluating me as an opponent as I stretched—looking for weaknesses and areas to exploit. I think that made me more uncomfortable than if he had been checking me out. I quickly finished my warm-up, so I could get some control back. I jumped up and turned to face him. “Would you like to keep staring at me, or would you like to spar?”

He strode towards me as he remarked, “I think the Siren has a little bit of a temper. Would you like to take that aggression out on me?”

I curtly replied, “Done and done,” as I executed my traditional bow. I then did something that was
totally
out of my usual sparring style. I attacked first.

He seemed momentarily surprised at my front kick aimed at his waist, but he deftly jammed my kick and said, “No need to attack the family jewels.”

“Sorry, based on your behavior, I thought I was aiming for the brains of the operation,” I snarked as I recovered my balance.

I had very little time to taunt after that because he immediately went on the offensive with a roundhouse kick that I avoided. For the next 30 minutes, I found myself in unfamiliar territory. Since we hadn’t sparred before, he was much harder to anticipate as well as being a much more skilled partner than I was used to. Typically, when I sparred with my partners like Thrace, it’s kinda like a choreographed dance routine with each person executing familiar controlled movements and patterns. For me, this was much more like a street fight. His offense constantly kept me on defense with almost no opportunity to counter or anticipate. Attack—react… Attack—react… Attack—react… Attack—react…

Rafe sensed my exasperation. He purposely eased up his attacks and let me take the offensive lead. He seemed to want to learn both how I defended and attacked. He superbly defended the whole bag of tricks in my arsenal. He avoided, blocked, and countered, making it virtually impossible for me to land any of my moves. He was by far the best opponent I had ever faced off against; I even got the sense that he was holding back which pissed me off even more.

I was happy when I saw that it was time for this little session to come to an end. I alerted Rafe to the need for me to bolt, then executed a much more respectful bow to my talented partner, which he returned. I was a little out of breath and bright red at the end of our session, whereas Rafe barely broke a sweat—Flock! I went to grab my towel as Rafe went for his bag. He pulled out two waters and threw me one. I deftly caught it and said thanks. I wiped my bright red face, which was the norm after any physical activity. What was not usual was me being self-conscious about my bright red complexion. Now that I had my caffeine and exercise, I could properly come to the realization that I might be crushin on the new guy. FLOCK….... FLOCK…..…. FLOCK……… !!

As I was regretting this new revelation, Rafe was watching me curiously, “Wanna try this again same time tomorrow?”

Without even thinking, I said “Sure,” then immediately wanted to kick my own eyas.

Before I could think of a way to back out of my premature articulation, he asked, “So what does one do around here for fun? I’m an Air Force base brat, but my dad just retired here after being stationed at Selfridge. Since it’s summer, I haven’t been able to meet a lot of friends my age. I can’t believe I’m actually admitting this, but I will be glad when school starts.”

I wanted to ask him a thousand questions right now, but I knew that my dad would be waiting for me, so I asked the most important question, “Where did you enroll?”

Rafe answered in a disgusted voice, “After much research, my dad chose Detroit Academy of Innovation. I’m sure the mascot has to be an atom or something. But he wants me to go into the Air Force Academy, so math and science are important. And it’s suppose to be the best.”

My chest tightened, and I barely found my voice as I said, “We’re not the Atoms; We’re the Fighting Falcons, so Fear the Bird. I go to DAI, so no mocking it until after you try it.”

He seemed pleased at this turn of events and said, “You look like you have to go. Do you mind if I call you later to pick your brain?”

“Ummm…ok,” I said hesitantly as I gave him my number.

He sensed my hesitation and gave me a wicked smile as he assured me, “I promise it won’t be painful.”

I just nodded and bolted from the room before I could get in more trouble. Dad was looking at his watch impatiently as I reached him, and he remarked, “You must have run farther than usual if you’re this late and this red.”

I immediately apologized and said it wouldn’t happen again, as we walked to the car. He turned on his favorite morning radio show and all conversation became unnecessary. However, his words reminded me what a sweaty, red hose beast I must look like. I mentally scolded myself that I have a boyfriend that loves me red faced and all, so I really didn’t need to impress anyone else.

Dad quickly dropped me off at the house, “Enjoy one of your last days of freedom.” I punched him on the arm before I jumped out of the car, “Don’t keep reminding me!”

I went for a run since I missed out this morning, then I headed up to the shower. As usual, I let the strong water pressure of the shower wash away all the drama of the day so far. By the time I was actually human again, it was about 10am, and I was ready for a nap. I had the house to myself because mom was at work. I snuggled under my cool cotton sheets and down comforter. Unfortunately, I should have hidden the spare key because not even an hour later, I was awoken by my boyfriend sitting on my bed already shooting questions at me, “Why is your phone off the hook?”

His question startled me awake, and I sat up in a sudden motion. I stared at Thrace for a second with a confused expression as I tried to process his question. Thrace seemed to understand the error of his ways and stroked my hair to calm me.

“Thrace, what part of breakin into my house, wakin me up, then asking why I wasn’t answering your call seemed like the smart move?” I grouched, still sleepy. I laid back down and went back to my happy place where rude boyfriends do not mess with my slumber. Thrace tried a much more effective tactic with me this time, which was laying on his side with his back to me so I could snuggle up against him. Now, had dad come home and caught him, it would have been a much more painful tactic. But dad was at work and dreamland was calling me back to sleep. I woke up on my own an hour later in a much better mood, but not with better breath, so I snuck out of bed and headed to the bathroom to brush my teeth again.

I headed downstairs to make lunch for us. As I was pulling the tuna and egg salad out of the fridge to make sandwiches, I was slightly frightened at the level of happy homemaker I was displaying right now. Once I dropped the food off in the den, I went to wake up sleeping beauty. I snuck back into my room to verify that Thrace was still sleeping soundly. Then, it was time for payback. I opened my door half way then slammed my bathroom door down the hall as loud as I could, saying in my best impersonation of dad, “What the hell is Thrace doing in Calli’s bed! I’m going to find my rifle!”

By the time I got into the room, Thrace was at the window ready to use my emergency exit. I smiled and said, “What the flock are you doing, Eyashat!”

There was real panic in his befuddled voice when he said, “Your dad is coming for me with a rifle.”

“Payback, sweetie,” I remarked as I put his hand in mine, drew him away from the window, and walked him downstairs to where lunch awaited us.

We both flopped down on the couch next to each other. Before I could grab my sandwich from the coffee table, Thrace had wrapped his arms around me from behind and positioned us both on our sides stretched out on the couch. This time he got to hold me. He seemed ready to resume his nap, but instead he said, “How did the match go this morning?”

I hesitated trying to think of the answer that would get me the least amount of hassle, “He is definitely on a whole different level than we are.” I hoped by making this a we vs. him thing Thrace would feel a little more secure and a little less territorial.

“How many times did you make contact?”

I described the frustrating sparring match in detail to satisfy my slightly jealous suitor. However, I left out the exchange of phone numbers, sparring again tomorrow, and the going to our school. Parental evasion had become as natural as breathing to me, but keeping that information from Thrace didn’t feel right.

Thrace gave me the best lead in. “I can’t wait until it is my turn. We haven’t set anything up yet, but hopefully, it’s soon.” Thrace announced with undisguised anticipation.

“Good luck with that. You’ll have plenty of time to spar with him because he’s enrolling in DAI this year,” I remarked as I waited for the explosion.

I took a bite of my sandwich as he said this so I could buy some time to think about my chicken or egg dilemma. Was I withholding information because of the way Thrace reacted like a jackeyas or was Thrace reacting this way because he sensed I was withholding things about Rafe? I felt like if I scolded him that I would feel guilty. However, I was not yet prepared to discuss my potential friendship with Rafe,
yet
, because it might not pan out.