Starcrossed (29 page)

voice.

“Did something happen at dinner last night?” Jerry asked. She

ran out the door and pedaled off before he could get a straight answer

out of her.

The cool autumn wind felt good on her face, which was puffy

from staying awake half the night with her eyes leaking. She hadn’t

really cried, and never got that explosive release that comes from a

good old fashioned weep-a-thon. Lying there, she’d been too

shocked to sob. She felt like an idiot. She knew there had to be

worse things in the world than being dissed by the boy of your

dreams, but at that moment, she couldn’t think of any of them.

Kate, Claire, even her dad had asked her repeatedly what was going

on between her and Lucas, like it was expected that the two of

them would get together eventually, but no one had ever asked Lucas

what he thought about being paired off with Helen. Now Helen

knew for a fact that he “would never touch her.” Those words kept

coming back to her, not just the words, but how passionately he

had said them. The way he had spoken about her made it seem as if

the very thought of kissing her was disgusting to him, and Helen

was just as confused by this as she was hurt. How could he want to

hold her hand all the time if he thought she was repulsive?

Helen got to school, locked up her bike, and took an alternate

route to her locker. It was longer, but she knew it would be Delosfree,

and therefore worth all the extra steps. She had left her house

so early that even with the longer walk she beat everyone to

homeroom.

When Claire arrived, she noticed immediately how awful Helen

looked. Like the good friend she was, she forgot all about the argument

they were supposed to be having, asking Helen a dozen questions

about her red face and ratty hair before she had even put

down her book bag. Helen lied as best she could, but so halfheartedly

she never would have gotten away with it if Matt didn’t

back her up by explaining how sick Helen had been the day before.

It didn’t help that Zach kept making scoffing noises as Helen tried

to put Claire off. Helen ignored him, as she usually did, but she

could still feel him watching her with a sneer plastered on his face.

Helen kept her head down all day and did her work. She found

now that she simply didn’t care anymore if she did well in class,

drew attention to herself, and potentially got the cramps. As she

walked to lunch she considered faking the stomach pain if it could

get her farther away from Lucas. She didn’t want to go into the

cafeteria and face everyone, but she still had to go somewhere, and

the auditorium door was right next to her. It had been left ajar, so

Helen pushed it open and went in. Helen knew whe wasn’t allowed

in there. Any room that was unsupervised by a teacher was off-limits

to students, but that didn’t stop her. She really didn’t care if she

got caught—she just needed a moment alone.

There was only a dim light onstage, and it was very quiet, exactly

what Helen was looking for. She sat down on the apron of the stage

and unpacked her lunch box. Chewing, Helen glanced around, taking

note of all the new sets that were just beginning to be built. The

203/395

drama club put on two shows a year—a winter play and a spring

musical.

She wondered what play the drama club was going to put on, and

saw a spare script lying in the wings. A Midsummer’s Night’s

Dream. Helen opened to the first page and read, “SCENE 1. ATHENS. THE

PALACE OF THESEUS.” She rolled her eyes and dropped the script, feeling

set up. Maybe the Fates really did pull all the strings.

Helen zombied her way through the last three periods, but her

luck couldn’t hold out all day. When the bell signaling the end of

school rang, she rushed to her locker to get to track as quickly as

she could, but Lucas was anticipating her.

“Hey!” he shouted from halfway down the hall. He looked big and

dangerous as he walked toward her, every step sending underclassmen

scurrying to get out of his way. “Where have you been all

day?”

“Busy. I can’t be late for track again,” she replied tersely, not

looking at him as she dug her stuff out of her locker.

“I’ll walk you,” he said. He tried to get a look at her face.

She kept her head down and her face covered with her hair and

didn’t reply. They walked down the hall next to each other at the

same pace, but today Helen felt even more lonely with Lucas beside

her than she had when she was by herself.

“Why didn’t you call me this morning? I could have picked you

up earlier if you needed to stop somewhere,” he said when the silence

became intolerable.

“Look, Lucas. The whole ride to school thing is sweet, but I think

it’s easier for me to just take my bike. So maybe we should just forget

it.”

“You don’t want me to pick you up anymore?” he asked in a cold

voice.

“No, I don’t,” she said. They neared the end of the hallway that

led down to the locker rooms. She finally turned to look at him,

which she shouldn’t have. He looked hurt.

204/395

“Okay,” he said, barely above a whisper. “Are you going to tell me

what I did wrong or am I supposed to guess?”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Helen answered listlessly. He

looked at her, waiting to feel the lie, but there wasn’t one. The light

scattered momentarily around his face, hiding his expression.

“You’ll be able to get yourself to my house after track?” he asked

as he glanced around, so confused he didn’t know where to look or

what to say.

“About that,” Helen started, trying to think up a believable

excuse.

“You’re coming. We still haven’t found those two women and

now Creon is out there. Learning to defend yourself is more important

than what I did or didn’t do to piss you off,” he said, suddenly

angry.

She nodded, knowing it was stupid of her to even suggest giving

up her training. She could barely see him through the confusing

images he was creating as he bent the light around him. It was as if

there were three of him for a moment, whirling around like she

was looking at him through a kaleidoscope. She kept her head

down and her eyes behind her hair until his image stilled and she

could look at him without getting dizzy.

“Do you want me to stay away from you for the rest of the day?”

he asked in a carefully controlled voice.

No, she thought. And yes. Both answers were completely true.

She couldn’t lie to him, but the truth had suddenly become very

slippery.

“I think that would be best,” she mumbled.

He didn’t say anything. He just turned on his heel and left her.

“Hi, Luke . . . bye, Luke,” Claire said as she joined them. She

looked back and forth at the two of them. “Fight?”

Helen shrugged and took Claire’s hand, leading her into the locker

room. “I don’t really care,” was all she had the energy to say.

205/395

As they ran the trail she asked about Claire’s day. She let Claire in

on the auditorium secret, and told her to tell Matt about it, too, in

order to avoid a friendship meltdown. Claire looked at her funny,

but she didn’t ask any questions.

Helen felt as if the whole world had turned into some gigantic

punch line that she had waited patiently for, and then when she

heard it she found it insulting. If she had been in a comedy club

she would have gotten up and walked out, but instead she had to

go to the comedian’s house after school and let his cousin beat the

crap out of her.

When track was over, Helen dutifully rode her bike to the Delos

compound, arriving before Lucas, Jason, and Hector did. She went

down to the tennis courts, which were in the process of being converted

into a proper fighting arena with a sandy bottom, and

looked around. There was a sword on the ground. She picked it up

and gave it a swing to see how it felt.

It felt goofy as hell. Helen supposed she wasn’t a swordswoman.

“I think Hector wants you to learn the spear first. It’s considered

traditional,” Cassandra said behind her.

“Wouldn’t want to mess with tradition,” Helen said sarcastically

as she threw the sword down, point first, into the sand so that the

hilt made a cross above the ground.

“Yes, you would. In fact, I think that’s what your mother had in

mind for you all along,” Cassandra said in that spooky, faraway

voice she had a tendency to slip into at crucial moments. “But

naming you is something your mother did in the past, and I can

only see the future.”

“You’re an oracle!” Helen said, astonished. She should have

known all along.

Suddenly, she wasn’t so sure she wanted to be alone with Cassandra.

There was something wrong about her eyes. Helen started

to circle around her, always keeping an equal distance between

them, but subtly closing the gap between herself and the exit.

206/395

“Delphi, Delos. And the Oracle at Delphi was always one of

Apollo’s chosen priests,” Helen said as evenly as she could, trying

to keep Cassandra distracted.

“Close. The Oracle was always one of Apollo’s Scions, and always

a priestess. A girl,” Cassandra said bitterly. “The Oracle of Delphi is

the female offspring of Apollo and the Three Fates.”

“I’m pretty sure that wasn’t in the book you gave me,” Helen said

uncertainly as Cassandra pulled the sword out of the ground, hefted

it in her hand thoughtfully, and took a few steps toward her.

“It wasn’t made known to any of the ancient historians, but they

did know that Apollo is the son of Zeus, and not one of the original

gods. He was second generation, a kind of glorified Scion, and, like

us, he was going to die eventually.” Cassandra came closer to

Helen, still holding the sword.

“Then why didn’t he?” Helen asked cautiously, trying to stay calm

so as not to provoke her. She circled back the other way, never taking

her eyes off the bright bronze blade that Cassandra alternately

lifted and let fall, as if she couldn’t entirely bring herself to raise it.

“Apollo made a deal with the Three Fates,” she said, half distracted

by some darker thought. “He offered them something they

couldn’t have without him. A baby girl. He swore on the River Styx

to give them offspring, and in return they swore never to cut his

string of life. From that day on, Apollo got his immortality, and

every generation one girl who is descended from him belongs to

the Fates. She’s their spiritual daughter, and occasionally she can

see what her mothers have in store for the world.”

Cassandra was stalling, Helen realized. Whatever she was planning

to do unsettled her, but even though she seemed uncertain,

she continued to close in. As she did, light started to dance backward

into her skin, and her eyes and teeth glowed with the vaguely

purple hue of black light. Helen knew that she was older, larger,

and stronger than Cassandra, but she also knew she was still the

one in danger. Cassandra was not the only being inside that tiny

207/395

body. She was being visited and maybe even partially controlled by

the Three Fates.

Helen watched as Cassandra cut off her exit. Helen could always

fly away, now that she knew how to get airborne, but she wasn’t

sure if she could control her flight once she was aloft. She also

didn’t know how to land without Lucas holding her hand. But right

now she was more afraid of the Oracle with the sword than she was

of falling out of the sky. Helen was about to take her chances with

flight when Cassandra’s demeanor suddenly changed. She went

from being the dark, fiery messenger of the Fates to being a very

vulnerable young girl.

“I saw something, Helen,” she said desperately. “Then I saw it

again, and again. I’ve been so ashamed and frightened that I

haven’t told anyone else what I saw. And I am so sorry if I’m

wrong—for all of our sakes. But I have to do this . . . because . . .

this is what comes next.”

Her eyes were filling up with tears. She looked so tormented

Helen would have done anything to make her feel better. She

smiled understandingly at Cassandra, who tried to control her

hitching breath as she nodded in return and wrapped both hands

around the hilt of her sword. She swung it over her shoulder and

paused, waiting for Helen to be ready.

Helen choked back the scream that was trying to climb out of her

mouth.

If Cassandra, the Oracle of Delphi, had foreseen her death, was

there any sense in fighting it? Did Helen really have a choice?

The thought of not being in control of her own destiny made her

angry. Angry enough to hold her head up and make the only decision

that she could, even if it was potentially the last decision she

would ever make.

“I could try to fly away, but what’s that saying from Oedipus Rex?

‘You meet your fate on the road you take to escape it,’ right? So go

ahead and do what you have to do. I’m choosing to get this over

208/395

with right now,” Helen responded as evenly as she could while her