Intrigue (21 page)

“You think I
cheated
on you?” Thrace asked in disbelief.

“I know you did. I saw you on the dance floor. If kissing is considered cheating, then you definitely cheated on me. If sex is considered cheating, then I don’t know,” I said uncomfortably. I wrapped my arms around my midsection as if I was trying to hold myself together.

“No….No…..No. I would have
never
hurt you like that,” Thrace pleaded.

“Thrace, just because you don’t remember it, doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. We are constantly fighting now. I think last night was going to happen eventually. It might have been you, or it could have been me. But we both know it’s been coming. You are just too stubborn to admit it to yourself. We were each other’s first love. I will not let the love or the friend part go, but I need to let the boyfriend part go.” As I finished my speech tears were streaming down my face because I could see the hurt in his eyes. It felt like my heart physically hurt. I wanted to comfort my best friend, but I knew that he would take any physical contact the wrong way.

Thrace looked so stunned with such pain on his face. His voice came out raspy as if he too were holding back tears as he said, “I don’t remember any of that! Please Calli, forgive me, give me another chance. We were meant to be together.” He took my hands in his as he begged.

I looked into his beautiful eyes and insisted, “This was inevitable if you could only see past this pedestal we put each other on. And of course, I will give you another chance, but it is another chance at being my best friend, not my boyfriend.”

My statement shocked him again. He was still in the haze and trying to make it go away by shaking his head back and forth. I finally said, “I have to go now, Thrace. I will give you some space if you need it, but I still plan on hanging out with you like my best friend. You’re not going to get rid of me very easily. If you want, let’s plan on doing something tomorrow. How about we go to the gym together?”

Thrace choked up again and threw me into a big bear hug, as he pleaded, “Please don’t leave me Calli I love you so much. Sometimes I think you are the only good thing I have going in this world.”

I gasped as if I was watching a scary movie. FLOCK! FLOCK! FLOCK! Emotional Blackmail Sucks. I blew out my breath and reigned in my emotions before I had a meltdown with uncontrollable homecoming queen sobbing.

I had my cheek against his chest and tears were still streaming down my face as I choked out, “Thrace, please believe me when I say I am not leaving you, and I still love you, but it hurts me too much to go on this roller coaster with you week in and week out. You still have me in your world you just don’t have to be sexually frustrated by me anymore. In fact, if you want to come to watch the Spartans game with dad and me feel free.”

My words didn’t seem to register to him. He just held me tighter. He was silently crying into my hair, and I just wanted to comfort my best friend right now. Knowing that I was the one causing him this pain was almost unbearable. Cinderella would be soooooo disappointed in me right now!

After a few minutes that seemed like hours, he finally dropped his hands. He couldn’t meet my eyes. He looked over my head to the opposite wall. He finally muttered, “I think I’ll take a pass on the game, Cal. I have some stuff to do.”

I tried to look up at him, but I mumbled down to the floor, “Ok, Thrace. I’ll call you tomorrow.” With that, I turned around and walked out on the only human boy I would ever love.

I sprinted home but didn’t make it in one piece. I literally felt like I was shattered in a thousand fragments of my former self. I just wanted to either get under my covers and cry or go find my blocking dummy and kick, punch, and strike it until I couldn’t lift my arms. I was not really a crier, so I had hit my quota for the day. I opted for the latter and found my blocking stand in the empty garage. I spent the next hour pummeling my feelings and self-loathing out of my system. I proceeded to drag my mentally and physically exhausted body into the house, up the stairs, and to my bathroom. I was standing underneath the steaming hot water that was scalding my skin slightly while I tried to scrub away the day so far.

I could not wallow in self-pity for too long before dad was yelling up, “Game time, Red. Get down here.”

I marched downstairs in my Spartans tee and bruised heart that I was going to shield from dad because he was a tad bit protective. Unfortunately, Spartans were known for losing steam both at the end of games and seasons--at least in football. In basketball, Spartans fans were muchhhhh happier. I was zoned out, but trying to at least groan or clap at the appropriate times. About half way through the second quarter, dad finally observed, “You’re not much of a cheering section today.”

“I worked out hard this afternoon, so I am a little tired. Has the coach slapped himself again, and I missed it?”

Dad chuckled at the reference to our coach’s well-known antics. “No slapping, but he is quite the drama queen.”

At half time, I offered to make my famous Buffalo Chicken Dip to avoid further father-daughter bonding. I managed to stay in the kitchen the whole halftime and tried to wrap my mind around the whole immortals thing. I finally lugged myself back into the family room with the dip, scoops, and a PBR for dad. The immortals thing was still unreal and bizarre to me.

I mouthed at dad behind mom’s back “
Busted
.” Unfortunately for me, mom chose that time to ask. “How did the big break up go, sweetie?”

“Break up,” dad grumbled while never taking his eyes off the TV.

“It happened, I don’t want to talk about it, and I’d rather focus on two Big Ten Teams beating the crap out of each other,” I replied coldly without taking my eyes off the TV.

“Do I need to use a taser on the boy? Your mom won’t let me use my gun even if it is just a threat,” he demanded during the commercial.

“As always, thanks for having my back, but no taser necessary. We just work better as friends,” I said honestly.

Mom still looked concerned and wanted to talk. Now that the game was back on, dad just seemed content that there were no more boys “sniffing around me” and shushed mom. At the next commercial, she asked, “How did Thrace take it?”

Now, I had both my parents’ attention, again. I curtly pointed out, “As expected. Still don’t want to talk about it.”

She
would not stop with her questions
, “Was Thrace upset?” mom fretted.

My Irish temper got the better of me. “What do you want to hear, Mom? That he cried, that he wouldn’t accept it, that he begged….What part of
I don’t want to talk about
it
don’t you understand?” My inner drama queen also felt the need to storm out and head to the sanctuary of my room, leaving my parents stunned.

As soon as I got to my room, I regretted my brattish behavior. I threw on my pjs, grabbed my phone, and stretched out on my bed feeling physically battered. I shot Jazz and Key quick texts telling them that I would give them the weekend scoop at school. Then, I used my parental reprieve to call Rafe and give him the promised update. Rafe sensed my fragile state because he softly asked, “How are you holding up, Calliope?”

I sighed and carefully answered, “I have had better days. I am currently in a time out for the rest of the night because of my Irish temper.”

“I tried that earlier today after I broke up with Thrace. I punched and kicked my bag for hours until I could barely lift my arms. But then, mom wanted details of the break up and wouldn’t take
No
for an answer,” I explained.

“Hmmm….wonder where she gets that from. By the way, did you get a chance to do your Greek mythology research?” Rafe inquired.

“Sorry, babe. Been too busy breaking hearts, beating myself up, and watching Big Ten teams brawl,” I replied using my alliteration skills.

“Hearts, huh. Who else has fallen in love with you while I was gone today?”

“The night is still young. I am sure I could betray someone else tonight. On second thought, I think I am going to crash and hope for amnesia in my sleep. Are you sure you can’t give me some of that chocolate amnesia,” I slightly begged.

Hermes Field Log: October 2007

The future has arrived. Calliope found out about our existence last night, and she seems to be taking it well. Of course, I didn’t tell her everything, but enough that most people would run to their therapists. I am going to slowly have to reveal our many secrets one step at a time from here on out. I think the distraction of the much-anticipated break-up with Thrace served as major distractions and lessened her incredulity. I think today’s media with its immortal and vampire books and movies have made us seem more credible and romantic. I am still waiting for the recoil from me. She said she would do her research tomorrow. Maybe then it will finally hit her. I will have to confess to Apollo about her boyfriend’s involvement with Aglaea. He will not be happy that another immortal has seen our Muse. This might get trickier if Aglaea decides to call or possess Thrace. I will let Apollo formulate our strategy in regards to Thrace’s safety. From here on out my job becomes more complicated, educate her in our world while protecting her from it, stop myself from caring for her too much, and always remember that she might be destined for someone else.

Chapter 18: Improbable Possibilities

There were two things that were non-negotiable in my family on Sundays—church and breakfast. We always had a big breakfast at home before we headed to church. Church was one of those tricky things in my family. Dad was Greek Orthodox and mom was Catholic. They decided that they would expose me to both religions and let me decide when I was old enough. This Sunday was Greek Orthodox, which should give me a really good excuse to ask my dad about Greek mythology. I planned on acting more civil at breakfast to show that I was over my Irish temper. As I walked into the kitchen, I saw dad hunched over the paper with his coffee as mom was making pancakes and bacon—my favorite. I sidled up to mom and said, “smells good” as I grabbed a plate and prepared to interrogate dad. Mom seemed pleased and dad looked up and said “morning, sunshine. You hit the hay early. Lucky you, you got to miss our collapse in the fourth quarter
again
.”

I replied back honestly, “I was exhausted so I’m glad I missed the ritual MSU meltdown. Dad, I think we might have to read
The Iliad
and
The Odyssey
in school this year. Can you help me out and give me a brief rundown of Greek mythology this morning?”

Mom groaned and said, “Oh, Calli. What have you gotten us into. Your dad doesn’t know how to be brief when it comes to his Greek mythology.”

“Mimsy, Calliope is finally interested in her rich Greek heritage. Don’t go ruining this moment for me,” dad warned.

To me, he said, “I have our family copy of
The Iliad
and
The Odyssey
in the den. The epics are by far Homer’s greatest works. Your namesake, Calliope, which means ‘beautiful voice’ was thought to be Homer’s greatest Muse,” dad explained.

“I thought I was named for mom’s favorite heroine. And what is a Muse anyway?”

Dad smiled and began, “A Muse is a person that inspires another to do great artistic works like writing, painting, or performing. Not only did Calliope have a beautiful voice like you do, but she was the Muse for epic poetry. So to truly appreciate
The Iliad
and
The Odyssey
, they must be read out loud. Maybe after we get home from church, we can start reading them together.”

“Ummmm, sure dad, but I’m not singing any of it!” I stated clearly.

Mom laughed and said, “I would stay to here that. You have such a lovely voice Calliope. I never knew why you were so afraid to sing solo. However, I will refrain from saying ‘I told you so, Calli’ for the poems until finish them. Let’s get moving, or we are going to be late.”

During the car ride, I realized that I had created a monster. My dad had disappeared and in his place was a stranger with a PhD in Greek mythology. It was like he was droning on and on as fast as he could just in case I suddenly lost interest. After the service, mom dropped us off at home as she sped away from the scene of the crime. Dad hustled me to the den, so we could get started with
The Iliad
first. He sat on the couch next to me, so we could both see the book. He showed me with pride where each family member that owned the text had signed on the inside cover and said, “One day your name will be here Calliope.”

Dad went through the background of
The Iliad
first. He carefully explained the background of the Trojan War, which was a ten-year siege, not like the movie
Troy
where it only seems to take a couple of weeks (and which Brad Pitt was pretty hot as Achilles).
The Iliad
only covered the last few weeks of the Trojan War and mostly focused on a quarrel between King Agamemnon and his best solider Achilles as well as how the gods and goddesses intervened in the war on both sides. This poem was the size of your average trashy novel. This was gonna take forever! Luckily for me, the Lions were about to come on and that distracted dad enough that we called it quits for the day. But he wanted to do a little each night, which I hesitantly agreed. We were in football season, and hockey and basketball would start soon which should keep dad pretty busy. I fled back upstairs to my sanctuary wondering what the flock had I done.