Curse of the Sphinx (14 page)

“Yeah. Sorry.” She stepped back, but his hands prevented her from getting very far.

“You’re not hurt, are you?”

She snorted. “Uh, no.” She looked down at his hands, still holding her arms.

“Right.” His hands dropped.

Krista and Angela gushed out of the room.

“Oh my gods! Could you be more clumsy, Hope?” Krista rolled her eyes. “She practically ran you over, Athan. So lame.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder, the ends whipping Hope in the face.

“Sorry about that,” Hope mumbled.

“No need to apologize.” Athan frowned. “I should have been more careful, too.”

Five minutes before lunch was over, Hope hurried down the hall to algebra. She wanted to be in her seat before Athan came into the room. In her seat with her head down. Maybe even catch a few minutes of sleep she’d lost last night.

She even beat Mr. Romero to the room. With a sigh of relief, she slid into her chair and dropped her head into her hands.

“Do you have a headache?”

Athan’s strange accent shattered her mental block, and her head shot up. “No.”

“Are you tired?” He crouched down so they were at eye level. “Are you not sleeping well?”

“I’m sleeping fine.” She clenched her teeth, then forced her jaw to relax. “Not that it should matter to you.”

Instead of looking offended, he smirked. “But maybe it does.”

She shook her head and kept her gaze down. “Go away, Athan. Find someone else to annoy. We aren’t friends.” The words hissed from her mouth.

He dropped his hand. “I am not your enemy. And maybe, someday, you will see just how much I would like to be your friend.”

HOPE’S HEAD FELT
tethered to her desk. She’d woken up late and barely made it to school before the bell. The morning was dragging, and so was she.

She was supposed to be balancing chemical equations, but the
C
s,
H
s, and
O
s were a jumble on her paper. She closed her eyes, and couldn’t help but overhear the gushing between Angela and Krista.

“So, I heard he joined the track team.”

Krista snorted. “Hmm, for the last month of school? Well, that’s super interesting.”

“And nothing is going on with him and Chelli.” Angela sounded like she was giving a book report. “Her dad’s got her enrolled in some private school. I guess Athan took her out, but just as friends. You know, because of Brand.”

It was amazing that Angela’s mother was a licensed counselor. Seriously.

“Whatever.” Krista flipped her hair. “Guess what I heard?”

There was a dramatic pause.

“He told Scott that he doesn’t have a curfew. At all. You know his aunt is insane, and he can come and go as he pleases.”

There was silence.

“Anytime. Mmm. This weekend is my chance.”

“Is he going to come down to the river Saturday? Did Lee invite him?”

“Yeah. I was there when Lee asked him, and he looked at me and asked if I’d be going. I was like, ‘Yeah, I’ll be there,’ and then he said he’d come.”

By the end of class, Hope found herself fuming with irritation. Three days ago, Athan wanted to be buddies, but since then he’d been out with three other girls. Three. No, if he was going out with Krista, make it four.

What was with him?

She headed back to her locker, alternately thinking about Athan and forcing herself to not think about him. Consumed with her thoughts, she didn’t notice him until he spoke.

“Hey.” His voice was light. “How are you today?” The intensity of his gaze was incongruous with his tone.

He was talking to her again? “Fine.”

“Hmm. Okay.” His gazed from her eyes to her lips and back again. “I was just wondering, well, two things, actually. First, are you running tonight?”

He reached out as if to touch her, and she pulled back. “No, I’m not.”
Not that you should even care
. Her eyes narrowed. “What else?”

“Oh. Um, well.” He reached for her again, but pulled back before she had time to react. “I was wondering if you were going to the . . .” He glanced down for a moment, and then took a deep breath. “Hope . . .” His eyes searched hers.

He was thinking, but what about, she couldn’t tell.

“Never mind. That’s it.” He shifted to leave.

Her curiosity was piqued, but she told herself she didn’t care. Besides, even if she did care, it was better to avoid him. She grabbed her algebra book and headed to the library.

“So he’s talking to you again?” Haley sat in the library with Hope. “I can’t keep you two straight.”

Hope glared at her friend. “There is no us two. Just me. Athan is just . . .” There weren’t even words to describe how irritating he was.

“You know what I think? He’s trying to make you jealous. And I think it’s working.”

‘Ugh. No way.” There was no way she was jealous.

Was she? Is that what this ugly feeling was? But she didn’t even like him. Just thinking about him made her frustrated. “What about you and Tristan?”

“Oh, man.” Haley took the bait and flopped back into her seat. “He’s all nice and everything, even wants to meet at the river tomorrow, but here at school he acts like were just friends. I mean, he won’t even hold my hand.”

“Maybe that’ll change tomorrow.” Hope puckered her lips. “Maybe he’ll kiss you, or—”

Haley snorted. “Yeah. He kissed me two weeks ago, and then, BAM!” She clapped her hands together. “Nothing.”

“Shhh!” Someone whisper yelled.

Hope giggled, but stopped when she looked back at Haley.

“What if he’s playing me?” Haley looked up from picking her nails, her face lined with worry.

“I don’t think he’s like that.” Not that she knew him well, but it wasn’t like he was hanging out with other girls at school. “He seems friendly enough, but not really flirty.” Not like Athan.

At the end of the day, as she crossed the school parking lot, she saw Athan, Tristan, Lee, and Scott out by the hugest truck she’d ever seen. A bright iridescent blue, it was bigger than any other vehicle in the lot. The tires were oversized, and there was an inordinate amount of chrome; it was totally ostentatious.

She went to duck into her Civic, and someone laughed. She glanced at the group of boys again, and her gold eyes locked with green ones. As Athan regarded her, the corners of his mouth lifted.

Something familiar but forgotten pulled at her heart, and for a brief moment she wanted to join him.

Twelve days until the change

HOPE WOKE TO
the muted light of the sunrise. Despite the emotional strain of the last few months, she felt rested and oddly at peace. She ran her loop around the town twice before getting ready for the day.

She tapped out a quick text to Priska.

I miss you. I hope you are safe. If you get this, plz call me.

For the first time, she didn’t wait to see if there was a response. It wasn’t that she didn’t want Priska to rescue her. But after a month, she no longer expected it.

Preoccupied with her thoughts, Hope didn’t hear the approach of the vehicle until the crunch of tires rolling over the road slowed beside her.

“Do you want a ride?” Athan leaned over the seat toward the passenger window of his flashy truck.

Her chest tightened. “No thanks. I’m enjoying the walk.”

“Of course.” His shoulders dropped. “It’s a nice morning. See you at school.”

“Sure. See you.” She stepped back on the sidewalk.
Weird
.

Minutes later, she bounded up the steps of the school, not even aware of the smile that played on her lips.

She walked toward her locker, but stopped in the middle of the hall when she saw Athan . . . and Krista. For a moment, she thought they were kissing. Krista’s back was against the lockers, and Athan’s hands framed her face.

She wanted to throw something.

But then, he could flirt with whomever he wanted. It didn’t matter to her. She’d turned down a ride from him that same morning.

Three hours later, she was still fuming.

“I can’t
wait
until tomorrow.” Krista gushed to Angela in chemistry.

Hope’s pencil stopped, all her attention drawn to the two girls.

“Single today, hookup tomorrow. By Monday, my name will be tattooed on his arm. That’s my prediction.”

Surely, she wasn’t talking about Athan. But Hope knew otherwise. Her heart pounded a desperate plea that the girl would be struck by a stray lightning bolt.

Angela looked just as stricken. “He seems really—”

Krista tossed her hair. “Yummy. I know. He smells so good, I could just lick him. I can’t wait to . . .” Krista must have felt the weight of Hope’s stare, and her eyes narrowed. “What are you looking at?”

Fire danced up into her cheeks. “Nothing,” Hope said.

“Nothing? Really? If you’re looking at nothing, why don’t you turn around and look at nothing that way.” Krista waved a pink polished finger at her. “Go on. Turn around.”

The hot pulse ran from her heart to her toes. Her body tensed. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Turn around.”

She clenched her hands under the desk. A sharp splinter of wood dug into her palm, and the pain bit through her haze of rage. “Whatever,” came out through gritted teeth.

“Back at ya, harpy.” Krista leaned toward her friend, and her voice dropped to just above a whisper. “What’s up with her?”

The bell rang.

Hope shoved her binder and book into her bag. She had to get out fast before she lost it. As she hurried out the door, someone shoved her.

“You’re in my way.” Krista glared. “Hurry up. Go.”

Something inside her solidified with a snap. Hope lowered her head till she was looking Krista in the eye. “Back off. Now.”

“Really? Are you, like, telling me what to do?”

“Only if you, like, value your life.” She tossed her head back and forth, mocking Krista’s ditziness. “Like, seriously, like.” She dropped her voice to a growl and narrowed her eyes. “Seriously. Back. Off.”

Krista’s small hand whipped back and slapped Hope across the face.

Before the sting fully registered, Hope caught Krista’s hand and ducked under her arm, twisting the girl’s hand up and behind. She pushed the hand inward, and torqued the wrist until she heard Krista gasp with pain.

“Don’t ever, ever, do that again,” Hope fumed, “or I will make it my personal mission to destroy you.” She had no idea where the words came from, but they felt strong on her lips. She yanked Krista’s arm again, eliciting a whimper. “Do you understand me?”

Krista’s head bobbed.

Hope pushed her away and strode down the hall. But she could hear the curses ringing in her ears even when she sat alone in the library.

Whispers followed her the rest of the day. Any empowerment she felt dissipated before lunch was over. Embarrassment washed in and took its place.

In algebra, as the other students shuffled in, she kept her head down, pretending to review her completed assignment.

And then laughter rang out, uproarious and mocking, and a group passed by on its way to the back of the room. A pang of longing zinged through her, then a sensation that was overwhelming and bitter.

As soon as the final bell rang, Hope fled.

SHE WRAPPED HER
loneliness around her like a shawl and trudged toward home. A desperate need for some kind of connection drove her into the Red Apple, and back toward the meat department.

“Hi, Hope.” Mr. Stanley’s smile was a ray of sunshine.

But even he couldn’t pierce the gloom. “Do you have anything good for me?” Her voice was flat, and she looked at the case in front of her.

“Okay, I spent some real time finding this one. I think you’ll like it.” He concentrated, and then recited: “If you break me, I do not stop working. If you touch me, I may be snared. If you lose me, nothing will matter. What am I?”

A smile pulled at the corners of her soul when Mr. Stanley started the riddle. He had misunderstood her question. Distracted by the puzzle, though, she forgot about everything else.

As she leaned against the meat case, Mr. Stanley went back to work, helping customers, packaging meat, and cleaning his area.

After more than a half an hour, he cleared his throat. “I know what it’s like to try and sort out a riddle, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen you take this much time.”

He was pleased that he’d stumped her; she could hear it.

“I hate to put you on the spot, but I’m going home a bit early today. Do you want to come by tomorrow and give me the answer?”

“Sure,” she said, feeling a bit uplifted.

“Hang on a second.” He stepped through the double doors, and returned with a large parcel, her name written across the top.

Hope accepted it with a smile. “Thanks, Mr. Stanley.” With a parting wave, she turned to leave. The riddle went to the back of her mind as she thought about dinner. She stopped in the produce section to get vegetables to roast with the meat. She stocked up on apples, bananas, grapes, and when she smelled the strawberries, she grabbed a container of them as well. She needed eggs, milk, and bread.

Halfway through the checkout process, she remembered.

“I’m so sorry.” Her skin flushed as she looked at the clerk. “I… I don’t have my car. Would you mind if I pay now and then run home and get it? I’ll only be about fifteen minutes. I could just leave the cart right up front here?”

The matronly clerk merely nodded. “Sure, honey. We’ll bag it, and you can pick it up when you get back.”

She thanked the woman and gazed out the window, calculating how quickly she could run home. Then she saw Athan approaching. Her heart jumped.

“Hey.” He stood at the end of the lane blocking her exit. “Didn’t you walk to school? I didn’t see your car outside, and”—he stared at the bags being piled back into the cart—“that’s a lot of groceries.”

She delivered a tight smile, “I’m going to run home and grab my car right now.” She swiped her credit card and waited for the transaction to process.

“Um.” he paused for just a second. “Can’t I give you a ride?”

The clerk grinned at them. “That’s perfect timing, huh?”

“Uh, sure,” she stuttered. “That would be very . . . great.”

As she signed the receipt, Athan grabbed the cart. He waited for her to finish, and then they walked out to his truck in silence. He unlocked the doors with a button on his key ring, opened the passenger side for her, and then started to load the groceries in the back.

“Go ahead, climb in.” He nodded at the passenger door.

So she did. Once inside, she was surprised by the luxuriousness of the truck. The cream leather was soft, and the windows tinted. There were several buttons and dials, as well as a large screen on the dashboard. She could smell the newness of it. She took a deep breath, and something rich and sharp tickled her senses.

While Athan stuck the last two bags in the back, Hope tried to place the scent. Something warm but familiar. She took another deep breath, watching him out of the corner of her eye.

He moved smoothly, almost gracefully, like a martial artist, spatially aware of how he fit in the world. He pushed the cart, and it glided through the lot, finding its way into the rack. Excellent aim.

When he climbed up into the vehicle, she realized what the scent in the car was.
His
scent. With the door closed, she was overwhelmed. Leather, mossy woods, and a hint of citrus. She suppressed a smile.

Athan started the truck, and a strange blend of pipe and drum sounds emanated from the speakers.

She turned, her eyebrows drawn down in question.

“I know. I know.” He turned it down. “My dad loves all types of music, so I got to hear lots of different styles growing up. I usually only listen to this when I’m alone; not many people appreciate it.” He reached for the dial.

“No.” Her hand went out to stop him, but she withdrew before touching him. “Don’t change it. It’s different, but kind of . . . I like it.”

He pulled up to the curb outside her house and turned the engine off. Before she was able to push the door open, he was there, pulling it open for her. He extended his hand, and she took it.

His skin was warm, the tips of his fingers calloused. The contact filled her with fluttering discomfort. She released his hand as soon as her feet touched the ground.

He said nothing, but turned and reached into the bed of the truck, pulling out two bags of groceries.

She grabbed one from him, and their hands brushed. Her breath caught, and her heart somersaulted in her chest. Hope managed a mumbled thanks but couldn’t look at him.

While she unlocked the door, he set two bags on the porch and went back to the truck to get the others. She deposited her school bag and the groceries on the kitchen table, and was on her way back out when Athan passed her. She grabbed the last two bags off the porch and went back inside. When she walked in, she noticed him looking around in awe, two bags sitting on the floor at his feet.

She looked around at her home. “What?”

“Nothing,” he replied, but he continued to study the small interior.

“Nothing?”

“Yeah. There’s nothing here. No pictures, no art, nothing . . . personal.” He stopped talking and examined her. “It’s like no one really lives here.” He stepped closer.

She stepped back, and, for the first time, saw her house through another’s eyes. She’d never thought of her home as a reflection of her. A home was just functional, just temporary.

Her palms itched. “Um, thanks for helping me. I’d better get started on putting things away . . .” She trailed off hoping he would take the hint and leave.

She took two steps toward the kitchen, the two bags still in hand.

“Sure, no problem.” He grabbed the bags off the floor and started to follow her.

“No,” she protested, “I got this.”

“I don’t mind. It’s not like I have someplace I need to be.”

“Fine,” she huffed. “But look, before I let you help me, I get to ask you a few questions.” She planted her feet and crossed her arms.

He set the bags down again. “Shoot.”

“Are you stalking me?” Her eyes narrowed.

“Stalking you?” His eyebrows went up, and he crossed his arms mimicking her pose. “Seriously?”

The words sounded ridiculous, she knew it, but it wasn’t about how rational it sounded. “You’re just always . . . around.”

“Hope.” He laughed. “It’s not exactly a big city. Besides, is it so hard to believe that I’m interested in you?”

She swallowed. “I thought I made it clear that I’m not. Interested, I mean. In friends, or dating.”

“But why not?” He took a step toward her, and his voice softened. “Will you just . . . let me be your friend?”

“I’m not looking for friends.”

“Well, I am.”

Hope snorted. “I’ve seen your parade of friendships over the last week.” She grimaced. “I’m not interested in cuddling in the library, or meeting you at my locker.”

He chuckled. “
That
is not what I meant. Besides, not one of those girls was looking for friendship.” He tipped his head at her. “For being so uninterested, you sure notice a lot.”

“Noticing and caring are hardly the same thing.”

“Hope,” Athan countered softly, almost pleadingly, “if I promise not to hit on you, or be creepy and weird . . .” He paused for a moment. “Well, I won’t be creepy or weird
again
.” He grinned. “Please. Can we try to be friends?”

“It’s just . . .” Fissures and cracks in mortar, bricks crumbling. “We can try, I guess.” The doubt was still there in her voice and in her heart.

“That’s all I’m asking for.” His expression brightened. “Now
friend
, why don’t you let me help you put away your groceries?”

The question was rhetorical as he was past her and into the kitchen before she had a chance to come up with a response.

They spent the first afternoon of their friendship sitting at her kitchen table doing homework. Shortly before six, Athan stood up, and with an apology announced that it was time for him to go.

“I’ll see you at school Monday. Unless you want some company running tonight?”

“I ran this morning.”

He nodded. “Ok.” He stood at the door looking at her.

“What?”

“Just, try not to be weird next week, okay?”

Her guard went up. “What do you mean? Are you being condescending?”

“I’m just saying, at school. I’ll probably talk to you. So, don’t be hostile, okay?”

She snorted. “Yeah, okay. I’ll be nice. Wouldn’t want to break your heart.” It was at this exact moment that Hope knew the answer to Mr. Stanley’s riddle. “Oh,” she exclaimed.

“What? What is it?” he asked.

“Umm, nothing. A riddle . . . Mr. Stanley, the butcher, gave me earlier. I . . . I just got the answer.” Her face flushed.

Athan stood, eyes wide, waiting. “Well? Tell me.”

Awkwardness tinged her cheeks. “All right, but don’t laugh.” She took a deep breath, and recited, “If you break me, I do not stop working. If you touch me, I may be snared. If you lose me, nothing will matter. What am I?”

After a minute, he shrugged. “I suck at riddles. What is it?”

Flushing a deep red, she looked away and whispered, “One’s heart.”

“Clever.” With a smile and a wink, he left, closing the door behind him.

Suddenly, her home seemed very empty.