Read Three Girls and a God Online
Authors: Clea Hantman
Survival 101 Class
7th Period
Mr. Hawkins
Supply List
Glow sticks
Canteen
Bottled water
Food bars
Rope
Duct tape
Snakebite kit
First aid kit
Waterproof bag
Flashlight
“H
ere is the list, Thalia. I already got the water. Now, do you know what any of these other things
are?” I stopped walking to take a look at Era’s list.
“Rope, I know rope!” I yelled. This was sort of like a game we used to play back home. When Daddy had some free time, he’d make a list of things for us to find and he’d give them to all of us girls. We’d each scamper off in different directions (except Calliope, who thought she was too old for such silly games). Daddy’s game was more fun, though, ’cause his lists had things like baby albino goats, pots of gold, and seven-leaf clovers (they’re very lucky in Olympus). One time he added a female pink-footed leopard toad to the list, but everyone knows they don’t exist. Still, Era came back with a regular toad that she had adorned with her pearly pink nail polish. Daddy laughed so hard, the nectar he was drinking shot straight out of his nose.
“Yes, I know what rope is.
Besides
rope. Do you know what a canteen is?” Era asked.
“No, but I don’t like the sound of that snakebite kit. That can only mean one thing: snakes. Snakebites. Thank you very much, but I have had my fill,” I said.
All of a sudden my head was filled with visions of Hera and I standing face-to-face the night of the dreaded engagement party, the snakes in our hair hissing at one another. Ick. I shook my head hard, hoping to shake away the horrible image, and started walking into this store they call J-Mart. It was far bigger and brighter than even the grocery store.
I couldn’t believe Polly hadn’t wanted to come with us. This really would have cheered her up after the whole Hermes incident. It was doing wonders for me, and I hadn’t even started shopping. My older sister was just being stubborn, and really, who would want to miss this? But when we told her we were going to pick up stuff for Era’s survival class, she’d just snorted and turned back toward the TV. See? Stubborn.
“Wait for me,” cried Era, who was still just standing there in the parking lot, staring at her list.
“Era, grab one of those wheely carts like at the grocery store,” I called. With only a few steps into the door, I could see we were going to be buying a lot of stuff. This place was incredible, a shopper’s dream! Up front, they had makeup like Claire wore and magazines. Then, as we walked farther back, I saw they also had food like at the grocery store, and shoes and clothes and shampoo (note to self: Buy Polly an extra-big bottle—her hair has been looking a tad greasy) and dog food and towels and lamps and books and plants and so much stuff I had never seen before. There were hard things and soft things, bright things and even a thing that looked like a very own fairy’s wand—it was shiny and it spun when you blew on it. Forget home, this place was heaven!
“Okay, I’m just going to start from the top,” Era said. “I need a glow stick. Do you think that they
mean a staff like Daddy’s? It’s a stick and it glows.”
*
“I haven’t seen anyone walking around with a staff. I haven’t seen anything even remotely regal other than the crowns they give out at that burger place, French Fry King. Maybe it’s like some wizardry instrument, to put a spell on people with.”
“But why would I need it for survival class, then? And there’s a serious no-magic rule here.”
“Good point. Good point. Wishful thinking, I guess. We should just find someone and ask them. Oh my Zeus, look at this, Era—come here.”
“You found a glow stick?”
“No, but look at this glass jar of snow. Look, a tiny snowman is in there. It says Athens! This must be some rare Athens snow! Isn’t it beautiful?”
“Oh, we should buy a whole bunch of these! Let’s get six, one for each sister back home,” exulted Era.
“Yeah, but get seven, okay?” I said as I wandered off.
“Okay. Who is the seventh for, Thalia?”
“No one, not important,” I said, picking up a giant can of something called Athens Original Boiled Peanuts. I grabbed a can or three.
“Apollo.”
“Wha?”
“You want one for Apollo, don’t you?” she interrogated.
“Yeah, maybe. C’mon, we’ve got glow sticks to find,” I called from another aisle.
But I heard her mutter, “Apollo, of course.”
Yeah, so?
I thought. But I didn’t say it. I missed him, sure. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be human. Or goddess, for that matter. So I think about him. A lot. I think about how much he must hate me for what I’ve done. I can’t believe it’s been over a month since I’ve seen his face.
“Thalia, look at these!”
Era had found these little starlike shapes that glowed in the dark. They had sticky stuff on the backs so you could attach them to your wall or your ceiling. They were truly magical and reminded me of home.
“Supernova! These are spectacular. Grab a bunch,” I cried.
“We need to do the whole house!” cried Era.
“The whole house?” I asked. “Don’t you think that’s a bit, um, much?”
“C’mon, it will give it a touch of home. Polly will love these. Get them all,” Era all but demanded.
“I thought you were mad at Polly,” I said.
She just smiled her sweet rosy smile.
We still hadn’t found anything on Era’s list. But the cart was quickly filling up.
Finally we spotted a young guy wearing an orange vest. We cornered him, and Era thrust her list in his face, squeaking out a little, “Help?”
He looked at Era, up and down, and smiled. Then
he smacked his gum loudly and silently walked all the way across the store. We followed. It was all I could do to keep up with him. I kept seeing so much great stuff. Something called a camera and all these little, various-colored boxes with music coming out of them, and golly, more shoes. And then I saw one of those bike things that everyone rides.
So this is where they get those!
I started to turn down that aisle, but Era grabbed my shirt collar and gave a hard tug. Survival had already done her well—she seemed considerably stronger than ever before.
Our gum-smacking guide dropped us off only one aisle from my new bike. I was staring in that direction and contemplating how to get the bike into the half-full cart when Era grabbed me again.
“This trip is for me and my class. We know where this place is now, so we can come back. Now help me, please.”
We cruised the aisle slowly, reading every single item, looking for something on her list, something remotely familiar. We got stuck on “freeze-dried ice cream.” It wasn’t on her list, but Era was intrigued.
“It can’t be ice cream in this little pouch. It’s not cold!” said Era. She knew her ice cream. She had already become very familiar with anything on earth that was primarily made of sugar. She’d even gained a little weight to show for it, but the extra softness only made her look prettier than ever.
“Let’s buy some and try it out,” I suggested. “We’ve got the drawer at home with an endless supply of money, right?” It wasn’t that I wanted to eat the ice cream. It didn’t look appetizing at all. But I wanted to move on. And besides, the package was all silvery and space age.
I continued to read packages. “Glow sticks!” I shouted, like I was on one of those game shows and I had the answer. I had found them. They weren’t anything like Daddy’s staff, nor did they seem magical. Era grabbed the packets from me and started twirling them above her head as she spun around. Faster and faster she went, squealing, her new glow sticks in hand. I was glad she found joy in them. They just looked like plastic bottles of green earwax to me.
“Era, whoa, stop. Look, here is a snakebite kit and a first aid kit.”
“Yippee! So do you think the snakebite kit allows you to concoct a snakebite? Because it would be so fun to make tons of snakebites for the Furies!” she said.
I got a chill down my spine that I felt to my itty-bitty little toe.
Just then, as if on cue, my three least-favorite girls appeared from around the corner and faced us at the opposite end of the aisle. They looked extra tough, extra mean, extra evil.
I thought about pushing the cart at jet-fast speed their way, taking them out like a famous TV bowler, but I came to my senses and realized we were one girl shy. Unfairly matched. At a serious disadvantage. And besides, I didn’t want to lose my jars of snow.
The Furies walked toward us. It seemed like the lights above us began flickering. I swear, the music coming over the store’s speakers soared to a crescendo. Each step they took was in unison and exaggerated for full effect like models walking down a catwalk. They tossed their heads to the left, then to the right, their wild hair swishing and swaying. Their legs looked longer than ours, their clothes looked better than ours, their faces looked meaner than ours. They stopped just a foot away from us. Tizzie stood in front, her hands on her hips, her legs slightly apart.
Meg and Alek stood perfectly poised behind her. They each wore a wicked smile on their face. It seemed like the whole store fell silent.
Tizzie spoke. “Oh, girls, what a surprise. How
are
you?”
“We’d be a heck of a lot better if you weren’t here. In this J-Mart. In this town. In this world,” I said with all the calm and cool I could muster.
“Of course you would. But that wouldn’t be nearly as much fun, now, would it?” Tizzie said, tossing back her glossy, orange hair.
“You’re so right—it is good to be among such glorious friends. I can’t believe our manners, Era. We must thank the Blessed Ones for joining us here on earth. I mean, we, we were sent here for our wrong-doing, we had no choice. But you, you girls came of your own free will. Things must be awful slow down in Hades. That’s a real shame. If things are so dead there, what are you gals doing wrong?”
Tizzie sneered, but I could tell she was annoyed. Meg spoke up. “Oh, we came here by choice. You mean that much to us, Thalia.”
“I’m just saying, you obviously have no lives of your own. If you did, you certainly wouldn’t have the time or the energy to be so obsessed with ours. That is, unless you were so jealous, you couldn’t just mind your own business.”
Now Meg looked visibly angered. Bright red spots were standing out on her pale, porcelain cheeks. She hated the idea that anyone thought she could be jealous of anyone. Anyone.
So Alek took over. “You think you’re clever, but you’re not. It’s impossible for us to be jealous of you or anyone, Thalia. There is no one to compare to the beauty or the power of the Blessed Ones.”
“Fine. Cool. Great. Just don’t come crying to us when the Keres
*
themselves take over Hades while
you’re gone. I mean, you’re spending all this time down here with us and what has it accomplished? Sure, you’ve stalled us a bit, but you’ve caused us no real harm. We like a good challenge. We’re ready. We’re willing. And we are most certainly able.”
All three looked flustered now. But Tizzie got it together one last time. “If harm is what you want, harm is what you’ll get. We owe you, Thalia. And we always pay our debts.”
And they turned on their heels and walked dramatically away, disappearing into a puff of smoggy gray smoke. Yikes. They always talk in rhymes when they are really intense about something
or
really angry. I couldn’t feel my toes.
“Thalia, you were great! You stood up to them, you were strong and smart, and they were shaken, did you see that? You’re incredible!” And Era hugged me tight.
But I didn’t feel so incredible. I slumped against a nearby shelf. It was all I could take to stand up to them—it took every breath, every muscle, every tendon, every cell. I now felt completely empty of all energy, like I was just skin and open nerves.
“Thalia, c’mon, you were wonderful!” praised my sister.
“Era, face it, they are living and breathing to make our lives a living Hades. How,
how
are we ever going to get home with those three little witches walking the halls of Nova High?”
I shifted my weight to lean on our cart, and just then, the cans of boiled nuts inside burst open. Out popped three huge, slinky snakes! Era and I both let out a yelp.
It took about five full seconds for us to realize that the snakes were totally fake. It was a trick. A joke.
But it didn’t feel funny when we heard the ghost of three very evil laughs echo down the hall, even though there was no longer anyone there.
Era’s bottom lip began to tremble. My bottom lip began to tremble. We grabbed our cart and headed for the checkout.
H
e just sat there, smiling at me.
Humans are so weird. I wrote a note to Claire and slyly placed it on her desk. It read,
Jocko won’t stop staring.
Do I have boogers?
She busted up laughing, and Dylan from Denver finally took his eyes off me—to stare at the hysterical Claire. But it didn’t last. Thirty seconds later his eyes were fixated squarely on me. Again.
Claire passed a note back to me:
u r booger free.
what’s up with the football outfit?
no other jock is decked out in that costume.
maybe he walks into walls and the helmet is some sort of protection?
maybe he’s a klutz who is seriously affected by sunlight and this whole ensemble is some sort of protection? at least he got rid of the ball.
I giggled.
I wrote back:
While he stares at me, the rest of the class stares at him!
He looks ridiculous!
Claire wrote back:
Yeah, but he fills out that silly outfit nicely.
I guess,
I thought.
Maybe.
I hadn’t really noticed.
Mrs. Tracy was rambling on about how teenagers are completely made out to be something they’re not on TV. “Unless,” she asked, “you all really are numb, dumb, and glum?” She went on, “If you just watched the
Springer
show, you’d think that all girls have giant breast implants.”
The class kind of nervously laughed. I didn’t get it. I’d never seen the
Springer
show. (Although come to think of it, I have seen some awfully large boobs on TV, like Amazonian.)
“That’s why I have come up with the following assignment: I want to see your real lives, the gritty underbelly, the excitement of first love, the anger at figuring out who you can trust and who you can’t. And I’m not looking for some sort of talk show nonsense. I want reality TV. Made by and for the students of Nova High. I want to see life through your eyes, how you view the world.”
Once again I was lost.
Some jock in the back called out, “My view on life? So, like, you want to see how the babes all want me?” His fellow jocks whooped. All but Dylan from Denver.
“You will not make a mockery of this assignment, Greg Gatsby! This is serious business. Together we can show the television and news networks what teen life is
really
all about. I expect each and every one of you to take this as seriously as I do.”
“Impossible,” muttered Claire.
“This project will count as twenty-five percent of your grade. Blow this and kiss your after-school sports good-bye, Mr. Gatsby.”
The boys in the back booed.
Mrs. Tracy ignored them. “Now, here are those pieces of paper with your names on them from yesterday that you placed in this hat. One by one, you will come up and pick a name. We will be executing these projects in pairs.”
People shuddered.
“Let’s see, front row first, please. Claire, come up here and grab a name.”
I focused all my energy on that little piece of paper and Claire’s hand. I watched her hand dip into the sombrero in slow motion. I focused hard; I concentrated on sending energy vibes to her hand to just pick my name, my name. It took all my willpower not to use my real goddess powers here, despite Hermes’s warnings. Because I couldn’t imagine doing this project with anyone else in this room.
“Well, Claire, who have you got?” asked Mrs. Tracy.
She slowly unfolded the paper. It could have been mine. It was folded in a triangle like mine.
C’mon, c’mon, c’mon…
Claire’s face went sour. “Josh Adkins.”
No! How could all my positive energy and super-secret power thoughts have backfired? I threw my head dramatically down on my desk. I should’ve just used my powers! Just a teensy bit of magic would have ensured my place with Claire.
“Thalia, you’re next.”
I slowly dragged myself up to the front of the class, my head down.
Who cares,
I thought.
Who cares now that I can’t get Claire?
I threw my hand into the hat with all the abandon of an asthmatic turtle.
“C’mon, we haven’t got all day,” urged Mrs. Tracy.
I unfolded the paper. It didn’t. It couldn’t. It stunk.
“What does it say?” asked Mrs. Tracy, with an extra-chipper note in her voice.
“Dylan from Denver.”
I looked over at him. He was grinning from ear to ear. His eyes were beaming. His toe was tapping.
I went back to my seat and made six different faces to signify “ick.” I mean, he was weird. Odd. Cute, sure. But mildly creepy.
Claire giggled but gave me a sympathy “ugh” look.
“C’mon, next, you, Jared, c’mon.” Some kid I’d never noticed made his way up. “Let’s move quicker, students. After everyone has a partner, you can pair off and discuss your plan of action. But first we have to get through this name thing. Pick it up, class.”
Claire and I sat there quietly, sulking in unison. We exchanged looks of complete disgust. There we sat until everyone had a partner. It took aeons.
“Okay, now find your partner, students. Move your desks to get near them. Claire, please pass out these assignment sheets. They give all the details. In a moment you will sign out the cameras.”
Dylan from Denver was next to me faster than you can say “spit.” He pushed his hair out of his eyes and grinned.
“I know many of you kids love those new digital cameras, so the ones we’ve got may look foreign to you. They’re sixteen-millimeter movie cameras. I’ve
got fifteen of them, so that should cover each group, but I don’t have any extras. I want you to think real life here, kids. I’m giving you each a roll of film. There are only two editing machines, so you will have to sign up for times. Shoot what you want, but remember, there is only one roll of film each, so be somewhat selective.
“Now, introduce yourself to your partner if you don’t know each other. Spend a little time coming up with your ‘vision.’ This project is due in two weeks.”
The whole class let out an “awww.” Mrs. Tracy ignored it.
“Hey, I’m Thalia,” I said.
“Dylan. From Denver.”
“Yeah, you, um, mentioned that. So…”
“How are you doing, Thalia? How is your life?”
“Excuse me? I’m fine.” He was looking at me so intently, and his eyes were so warm. But the helmet thing was just plain weird.
“So, like, we should talk about our plan. Our ‘vision,’” I said.
“Yes, our ‘vision.’” Dylan from Denver sounded very amused.
I was dying to get my hands on that camera thing. At least that part of the project sounded fun. Recording the events of a modern mortal teenager’s life. Could be cool.
“So, I was thinking that maybe I can have the
camera for the next two days, and then we can meet up and I will give it to you for two days. You can shoot what you want, I can shoot what I want, and then we can try to meld it together in the end. What do ya think?” I asked.
“But aren’t we supposed to work on it together? I mean, I was thinking. See, I think the movie should be like a little adventure, like two typical American high school teenagers on an adventure. We could go in search of gnomes or leprechauns.”
“Gnomes? Leprechauns? What planet are you from?” I asked. But I had to admit, when I got here, I had wanted to see gnomes and leprechauns, too. Back home, there were so many stories about how earth was filled with them. And I did like the part he’d said about an adventure.
“Oh, I was just kidding about the gnomes,” he said. “Yeah, and the leprechauns. No, I mean, like, we could just go stir up some trouble. Have some fun, see where the wind takes us, and shoot.”
“Yeah, um, well, I like my idea better. Not that yours isn’t good, but, um, mine is better.”
“But Thalia…”
“Look, Dylan, um, from Denver, adventure is great, but I think we should stick to my plan.” I just didn’t want to spend time with him. I had no interest in boys. Besides, he was weird. “So let’s meet after school in two days’ time. In the quad, ’kay?”
He stopped grinning for the first time maybe ever, so far (from what I had seen). “Well, I need it first. I can’t explain—I just do. Then in two days I will give it to you, just like your plan. Only reversed.”
“Fine,” I said, slinking farther down in my seat. “Um, can I ask you a question?”
“Why, yes!” He was smiling again.
“Why do you wear your football gear every day, all day? I mean, not that there’s anything wrong with it. It’s kinda funny. But why?”
He looked mortified. I felt horrible for asking. He said, “What do…”
Saved by the bell.
“Right. Okay. Well, see you, Dylan.” I couldn’t look at his hurt face. I hadn’t meant to embarrass him. With that I got up and ran for the door.
So did Claire. We didn’t stop running till we were halfway down the hall. Out of breath, she grabbed me by the arm and said, “When did Dylan from Denver even put his name in that ol’ sombrero, anyway?”