Disclaimer: We do not own Greek Mythology…Duh. We do, however, own all our own characters and fictitious places (like the school) etc.
I don't know if we need to disclaim THESE, but here goes: We do NOT own, * puts on glossy TV voice*, Melbourne, Hong Kong, Singapore, Greece, Mykonos, Delos, Air China, The Temple of Apollo, Santa Clause, Seven Jeans, Chanel, Calvin Klein, Nintendo DS, The Odyssey, prophecies from Disney's "Hercules", Mount Vesuvius, Andre Lloyd Webber's "Phantom of the Opera", Chris Brown OR Miranda Kerr…Anything we've left out?
A/N: Hi all! Dazzeling Diamond here, I wrote zis chappie, and just wanted to let you know this one is purposely focused more on building tension in relationships, etc, for certain events to come. It was a tough chapter to write in (TENSES! ACK!) Because it HAD to stay on one topic, but had to be seen through different viewpoints and at different points in times…painting a fragmented but clear picture of the situation (I hope!). PLEASE, tell me if this worked…I became really nervous when I noticed just how much shifting occurs in 3rd 1st person POV and in time. This was a particularly fun chapter for me to write, on the other hand, I'm not sure why, I think it's the bitchy tension, lol. I really hope you enjoy it, too! Also, massive, uber thanks to all who reviewed!
Chapter 7- LONG Flights and Cat-Fights
"Would a Mr. Jason Kalivas, please report to gate number 12, your flight Q4RE8 with Air China, to Hong Kong is boarding immediately," said the polite voice of the airport announcer.
To the exhausted students of Mortonia Height's senior Ancient History class, the loudspeaker announcements seemed to merge with the multitude of voices and languages around the Athens airport, snippets of tears, laughter and complaints could be heard, ringing from unidentifiable directions, a loud blurring ostinato. The cries of cranky babies, strong footsteps and creaks of rolling suitcases on the marble floor created an odd sort of 'Welcome' sonata for the adolescents.
"…Andrea Fantom?" Mr. Morettson called out, loud bells of exhaustion ringing in his voice, strong enough to challenge Notre Dame's.
"Here!" said Andy, jumping up and down in a mission to gain her exhausted professor's attention. The red-bearded teacher caught sight of the petite pupil, in the corner of his eye and waved his arm about to acknowledge her call. Andy immediately halted her jumping and slumped down on one of the uncomfortably stiff seats of international arrival gate 32. Discreetly whipping out a writing book, Andy immediately resumed her unfinished notes from the plane. Almost twenty four hours over two planes, and two airports and she still hadn't finished.
It was a quarter past three in the morning in Athens, and none of the Mortonia Heights students quite felt like they'd descended in Greece yet. Landing had been smooth and quick, with only a few of the students awake to realise they'd even reached. The rest of them had then sluggishly paraded off the plane in half-slumber, only partially aware of their current surroundings.
Mr. Morettson was becoming remarkably flushed, which was hardly complimenting to a plump man in tweed, with a beard that matched his slowly reddening skin. Pushing his glasses back on the bridge of his nose, he continued. "Matt Gordon?"
"Here." Matt responded, throwing an arm up in the air. Mr. Morettson glanced over to where Matt, David, Xavier and Antonio had formed something of a 'We Are Men" congregation, the very picture of adolescent male boredom. Antonio was standing up, plugged into his iPod. David and Xavier leant back into the chairs, as they would in their own living room while watching mindless TV, perhaps waiting for some food to materialize. Matt was leaning against the wall, whose stance would have looked complete if he had a tennis ball to bounce repeatedly. Standing slightly to the side of this group, was Alex, looking like he belonged, but perhaps hadn't received the unspoken invitation to join. Thus, he remained to the side, too tired to care about where he stood. Sitting near this group, and oblivious to everyone, were Seth and Lana. They were playing against each other on their Nintendo DS's, lost in their own twin world.
"Choke on my DUST! You just wait…You JUST wait…That's it Seth, you're-getting-beaten-by- a-Guuh-url!" Lana half-sang. After much deliberation on the plane, Seth had deduced that his sister was on some kind of high caused, ironically, by the extensive number hours experienced at ridiculous altitudes. She had been insanely talkative on the flight, unable to sleep, had too much soft-drink and continually insisted that Seth entertain her, via pokes and near-punches. All the while Seth tried desperately to persuade Demi to swap seats with him. The joys of being in the middle seat.
It seemed that her high hadn't quite faded, either. Seth pushed the buttons on his Nintendo DS with a furious determination, annoyed with the slipping of his sweaty fingertips.
"Yes Lana, genius threatening, that is!" Seth commented sarcastically, without tearing his eyes from his screen. Then their race came to a screeching halt.
"HA! Better find out the ambulance number in Greece, because I think you just CHOKED, my brother!" Lana jumped up, pumping her fist in the air. She twisted her cap to the side, and threw him an exaggerated victory nod.
"Oh yeeeeeeeeah!" she said in low, caricatured voice. Lana's smile reeked of self-satisfaction, her cheeks high enough to rival those on a chipmunk.
"Go again?" Seth asked hopefully, desperate to beat his overtly competitive sister. Smiling wickedly, Lana tucked strands of her short auburn hair behind her ears.
"Like the taste of defeat, do we?" she taunted "'Cause there's more where that came from!"
"Yeah, yeah. Game on!" Seth replied, as the two lost themselves in a race, all over again.
Meanwhile, Mr. Morettson, who personified the academic version of a red-headed Santa Clause, collapsed into his seat. Handing the roll-call over to Rayshaun, one of the trip's voluntary teachers, he exhaled puffily and waved his bloated fingers like limp sausages. Nodding, Rayshaun took Mr. Morettson's clipboard and resumed roll-calling. "Okaaay…Catarina L?"
It's Kittie! Kittie mentally growled. Unaware of who called her name, she was too physically drained from the plane flight to argue. Spinning around dizzily, she saw a tall male with coffee coloured skin calling the roll. He was new, he wasn't her teacher in anything and his African-American accent suddenly put a slightly cool spin on "Catarina". Perhaps she'd ignore it…That one time.
"Here." Kittie answered reflectively. Re-tying her blonde pony-tail, she felt her eyes close for a desirable moment. Wait…did he call out my name? Did I answer? Or did I just THINK I answered, She wondered, massaging her temples …Oh wait, yes I did…Wow, I can no longer tell if I'm speaking or thinking…I MUST be exhausted.
The rest of the roll-calling continued without a hitch, then Rayshaun and Miss Clover, the school's Head of Home Economics teacher and an ex-Nurse, turned to Mr. Morettson to discuss formalities. The senior Ancient History students of Mortonia Heights, inadvertently sprawled themselves around the gate seating, while they awaited further instructions.
Rummaging through her bottomless hand-bag in a frantic search for her iPod, Shaira sighed audibly. Giving up her search, she took a nonchalant sip from her Evian bottle. She'd arrived at the airport in Melbourne, ready to board for their stopover in Singapore, epitomizing the term "fashionably late". Wearing a pair of Seven's dark skinny jeans that looked like they were designed specifically for her legs, and a tight black Calvin Klein tee that clung to each curve, emphasizing her minute waist, she looked like a model on her day off.
After making her entrance, and once her parents had left, she'd gracefully leapt into Antonio's arms, wrapping her legs around his waist. Her lips had thanked his profusely, for the considerate boyfriend behaviour he'd exhibited by leaving extra packing space for her shoes. This had scored a few obviously encouraging howls and hoots from the onlooking male students, except for Alex, who'd felt his already unnoticed presence in front of Shaira fading faster and further away. Meanwhile the girls had watched, with a varying assortment of smiles and rolling eyes. All, except for Amber, naturally. Raine, who'd glanced over momentarily, abandoned that view in favour of a discussion with Andy about Andy's physics assignment.
When Shaira had finished thanking him, Antonio had felt 'obliged' to thank her in return. They might have 'thanked' each other some more, except that the intimidating staff of Melbourne customs security did not exactly look upon it with fondness or permission. Somehow, the teachers had remained blissfully oblivious during this time.
Ruby glowered at the Indian, allowing only a flicker of jealousy. It was irritating, truly, that they could all endure the same absurd number of hours on a plane, and only she looked exactly the same, and without a hint of exhaustion. Maybe, she's a robot....Maybe she isn't human…Ruby thought, aware that her thoughts were only becoming further adrift, and also aware she was in no mood to customarily reel them back in.
Normally, Ruby made an incredible effort to see Shaira as two different people, one that was her carefree and bubbly friend and the other, her incessant nightmare. The 'incessant nightmare' version came fully packaged and glossily accessorized with inadvertently flirty behaviour, directed at males Shaira had no serious interest in. Like Alex. Then, Ruby would treat the 'friend' version of Shaira with as much civility as possible, and avoided connecting her with 'evil twin' model. It required monumental control. Some days she exercised more control than others. Every so often, the lines seemed to blur of their own accord, and it was hard to tell where one Shaira 'ended' and the other 'began'.
Crossing her arms and standing in the gate, Shaira tapped her patent black ballet flat against the floor. This ordinarily would have resounded in a pleasantly cadenced, pattering manner. On the occasion however, the sound was more like possessed alarm clock, unaware of when to stop, just biding its time until it blew everyone's eardrums to smithereens. Or would that be a time bomb? Ruby mused. Either way, it seemed that neither Kittie nor Demi had noticed the tapping, and only she had detected its ceaseless charms.
Rubbing her weighty eyelids, she inhaled with a faux sense of calm. The breath didn't sit well, it evaded her diaphragm and felt compressed in her lungs….Forced, as though she was trying to achieve some parodied version of 'Zen'. It was like a feigned tranquillity, endorsed by a kooky yoga-master in some upscale gym. The kind created for people whose biggest problems were their failing macrobiotic diet or dangerous addiction to Chanel. She could virtually hear the high-pitched voice of a rail-thin yoga teacher, extreme energy sizzling in his fingertips, throwing in a shimmy every five seconds: "Breathe, people! Feel it enlighten your very core and melt all your stresses away! The world is yours, my beautiful friends! Breeeeathe! And now, to the 'downwards facing dog'…"
Ruby shook her head. No…Definitely not believable. She tried her controlled breathing again, aiming for her diaphragm, but after that mental image, felt simply ridiculous, and her diaphragm deflated like an untied balloon. Tap…Tap… Tap… Tap-tap…Tap…Tap…Tap…Tap-Tap…clicked Shaira's shoe. Ruby groaned inwardly. It was like a leaky faucet with rhythm.
Tilting her head back, Ruby felt an extreme stretch in her neck, which incidentally awoke the joints in the rest of her body, reminding her that she and long plane trips did not exactly harmonise like gin and tonic. This one certainly hadn't been pleasant. Echoes of the aches she'd felt in her knees, boxed in the claustrophobic plane seat, still pained with certain movements. And now, Shaira was trying to compose a musical accompaniment via her footwear, to further Ruby's pain.
She glanced around her Ancient History class, and noticed that it seemed to have dispersed across the entire gate. Catching sight of Alex, standing alone, she briefly forgot about her joint pain and the stupid tap, tap, tap of Shaira's designer shoes. Ruby wasn't sure how much time had passed, or how long the Indian had been talking, but she heard Shaira's voice far too quickly for her liking.
"…Well, I told you I'd call once I arrived, you silly, silly boy…Anyway, like I said, that's what happened …Yes… It was ree-diculous…I know, right?!.... I swear to God, that was the most infuriating plane flight ever…Well, you saw her at dance on Monday… Amber, seriously, she was ready to sit on his fricken LAP…Talk about slu—Hmm...? To top it off, there were times where he didn't appear totally opposed to it! I mean, what the hell! Was he TRYING to kill me, does he think I ENJOY watching that crap?...HeYYyyyYY! I'm NOT threatened by her…I just can't STAND her …Yeeeah…definitely.... GAH. I'm so glad that it wasn't like that from Melbourne to Singapore, 'cause otherwise—"
"Shaira. Could you, just for ONCE, I know it will be difficult for you, but please… Spare me the sound pollution?" Ruby snapped, biting the last two words, only semi-regretful.
Her tawny eyes flashed with all the signs of fatigue induced exasperation. Yet somehow, the exhaustion seemed like a fair enough excuse to banish niceties, since it normally took more energy to avoid snapping. Anger was an emotion she barely vocalized in Shaira's presence.
Shaira glanced at Ruby, her mobile phone still at her ear "…Andre? Sorry, can I call you back, boo?…Ok, thanks sweetie!...Yeah, love you too, hun…Yes I will deal with Antonio…Yes, I know he's sexy when he's angry… Ha, you just wish you could see it!... Say hi to Gert for me! Kisses, bye!" She stylishly snapped her phone shut, and dropped it back in her bag, acknowledging Ruby's challenging stare.
Each fleck of ochre in Ruby's eyes was like a scorching gold spark, heavily restrained from forming a fire. They locked with Shaira's dark chocolate irises, and the two girls shared an adequately tense moment, one which seemed to block out the buzz of the Athenian airport.
Demi and Kittie, who'd draped themselves in their seats like drained puppets finally relieved of their strings, noticed the tension a few moments later. Suddenly, they sprung upright, as though their master puppeteer had returned unexpectedly and caught them in a state of disobedience.
"What?! What's going on?" Kittie barked, although with her severely reduced energy levels, she sounded rather uninterested.
"Ruby, Shaira… What's going on?" Demi asked tentatively, adopting the maternal tone she'd perfected over the years. Ruby didn't respond; unaware that Demi had even spoken. Instead, she and Shaira remained focused in their unofficial staring challenge.
"Nothing." Shaira chimed, her musical voice laced with iciness. Demi rolled her dark jade eyes. To say the tension between Shaira and Ruby seemed to be increasing of late, would have been the understatement of the century. Ruby's side remarks had gone from artfully witty to simply blatant, like she expected Shaira not to notice, and was thus using a free pass to act condescendingly. It was true that Shaira had a more selective observance and frequently overlooked obvious situations or discussions occurring around her.
It was difficult to tell if she was truly playing the fool, or merely allowed others to think that. Sure the girl was selfish at times, but whether that stopped her from noticing Ruby's coldness for so long, was difficult to determine. Perhaps, Ruby now wanted her to notice, thus making her statements obvious? Demi splayed her fingers across her forehead, pushing her hair off her face and sighed, unsure as to whether she was reading too much into Ruby's comments. Right now, we're all just dead, thanks to the flights…well, except for Shaira, so maybe that's Ruby's fatigue talking…Demi considered, placing an inquisitive finger on her chin. At times, it was hard to tell if Ruby's comments were all just jokes and nothing more. There was no figuring that girl out. It was oddly admirable, how she maintained her unpredictability.
These 'incidents' happened when they were in a group. The others picked up on the clever sarcastic nature of Ruby's comments and laughed, after all, what was a joke about friends, between friends? Especially when they all took turns at Shaira, and each other, now and then? Every so often, Demi would look over at Shaira, after one of Ruby's jokes and see her laughing too, a feat she wasn't always opposed to. Then, once the moment had passed, Shaira would be thoughtfully silent, glancing over at Ruby and then the ground. On some occasions, she would cease from continuing in the conversation altogether, flippantly ignoring everyone as she busied herself with stretches.
Demi had known Alex had fallen hard for Shaira, for as long as she could remember. Demi also knew the same had occurred to Ruby, for Alex. Swallowing, Demi tilted her head towards her lap and shook it, running a hand through her slightly tangled tresses. Briefly, she glanced back at Shaira, poised in her hostility, her chin tiled upwards with a hint of arrogance. She wondered if the Indian girl even had the slightest clue as to the reason for Ruby's intense negativity towards her.
Everyone else in the group knew the situation. Antonio knew, and the Italian had done his best not to flip at Shaira whenever she nonchalantly smiled at Alex or ruffled his hair. Then Shaira would sashay towards her intended destination, as she always did. Alex would be left with a childish hope glazing his love-struck eyes. Antonio's eyes, would tell a different version of the same story. The one with the angry Italian, who was pissed off with girlfriend's flirtatious charms, when they weren't solely directed at him, but a guy he was aware had eyes for his girlfriend. Although, that fury stemmed from just about any male near Shaira. Except for Andre.
Demi smacked her forehead involuntarily, Antonio…Honestly, hypocrite much?
Even considering Shaira and Antonio's relationship induced a flutter of frustration in her. They were a whole different story on their own. Demi rolled her eyes again, feeling the urge to close them completely overcome her. She recalled how, with the help of Kittie, she had forced Antonio into remaining silent about his knowledge of Alex's affections for Shaira, hoping it would all blow over with time, as these things usually did. After all, all Alex had was a silly puppy-love crush.
A year had passed, and things hadn't changed for anyone, only intensified.
Demi rubbed her head; she knew it was only a matter of time until it boiled down to full frontal argument. Surely they were beyond all of that? Shaking her head, Demi dismissed the question. In her experience, she knew that even the most mature of girls could be downright bitchy for an 'important' enough reason. Her tired gaze shifted between her two friends, noting how Ruby's whole body, though slouched in a seat, seemed silently strong, even in her slack position. It allowed Demi to confidently infer that there was something bubbling beneath Ruby's calm exterior. Demi's glance strolled towards the Indian girl, her crossed arms hadn't moved, nor had her shoe-tapping ceased, if anything, it amplified in volume. Shaira added a small but sharp head isolation to the side; accentuated with smug raise of her eyebrows, directed at Ruby.
Demi released a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding. Aware that she'd have to deal with this later, she inhaled slowly and headed over to meet David, who was more than happy to see her. Gratefully, she lost herself in his arms, and sighed heavily against his chest. Happy to hear his sturdy heartbeat ring comfortingly in her ear, she sighed internally, snuggling closer to him.
Bitchy girl-problems would just have to wait.
The Indian girl broke the 'staring competition' by rolling her eyes, which seemed to indicate that Ruby had won, a private success she celebrated in her head with only the beginnings of a sly smile to show for it.
"Ruby," Shaira began, in a measured voice, waiting for Ruby to acknowledge her. She stopped taping her foot and uncrossed her arms, "Ruby… Ruby?"
No response. Not even a look. Slouching further in her seat, Ruby's gaze darted off, showing she no longer cared, or at least, she appeared not to. Shaira did not consider whether the Ruby had even heard her.
Very mature, the silent treatment…How effing ingenious! Shaira thought, whose patience for bitchiness was on an incredibly short fuse after their last flight. Instinctively, she re-crossed her arms and her lips formed something between a purse and a pout, a portrait of 'Irritation Chic'. Even standing near Ruby felt strange. Observing the girl with the light-copper hair, Shaira took in a shaky breath. She could only imagine the girl playing some sort of mechanical chess game in her head, the calculated moves masked by her unassuming appearance, her fair face and mass of red curls. Behind those potentially scheming eyes of Ruby's, it was easy to visualise her skulking around a life-size chess board, studying every angle, and just waiting to move a piece that would have Shaira literally disappear….
"Aye Shawty, could ya help me fo' a sec? I got some ID cards to hand out to y'all, and spare itineraries. Y'all need to take 'em befo' we can go pick up the bags and all. Also, Morettson said our ride'll get here in 'bout forty minutes…" Rayshaun barely broke through Shaira's disconcerting day-dream with his spiel about hand-outs and luggage.
Turning without thinking, Shaira unknowingly faced her dance teacher, who, thanks to his chilled hip-hop style and age of twenty-three, hardly seemed like an ordinary teacher. It was a few moments later, when she realised she was no longer staring at Ruby, but at Rayshaun's chest.
"EEK!" she squealed, jolted by the sudden change in scenery.
Her momentarily terrified gaze flew upwards to meet Rayshaun's confused, and slightly amused, one. Then she was reminded of how striking his resemblance was to Chris Brown, and was somewhat comforted by the sheer randomness of its irrelevance. Moments after that trivial fact struck her, she realised how foolish she appeared. This isn't weird at all, Shaira cringed inwardly No, I was just caught staring at his chest, and squealing…and…the two things are unrelated! He's gonna think I'm such an idiot!
"Shai, you aiight?" Rayshaun asked, raising his eyes brows at his pupil as he stifled a bewildered chuckle. Her eyes were wide enough for peacock feathers.
"Who, moi? I'm fiiiine," Shaira replied, quickly sporting a deceptive smile "sorry, it must be the travel exhaustion…I just blanked out for a second, anyway, enough about that. You want me to hand out the sheets? Sure, love to!"
Taking the pile of stapled pages and a bag filled with identity tags from a surprised Rayshaun, she waltzed around to her fellow class-mates, handing them out. At the same time, she tried very hard to avoid picturing Ruby and chess-boards.
Meanwhile, no one had noticed Raine's eyes, subtly assessing the incidents that had just transpired. I can see that situation blowing up like Vesuvius, one of these days, Raine thought decisively. She peered at Shaira, handing out sheets and then at a Ruby, slouched in her seat. Without glancing directly at her novel, Raine turned a page.
When she had a book in front of her, people had come to learn that interruption was not the most intelligent of choices, but they neglected to consider that the book was often a decoy for the sake of observance. Momentarily desiring contrast, the brunette flicked her sharp stare towards the boys, who were merely the modern version of Neanderthals in a cave: Bored, disgruntled and utterly male.
Evolution… A sometimes a highly questionable theory. Raine mentally concluded. Her gaze then landed upon the group next to the 'cavemen gathering'. There, sat Amber Valette and her 'Cronies'. Thankfully, the sun-kissed blonde seemed too exhausted to cause any trouble now. Perhaps she'd worn her haughty self out on the plane. Due to alphabetical seating on their flight from Singapore to Athens, Amber had happily found herself sitting next to Antonio. Too happily. Crossing her spray-tanned legs with aplomb, Amber had found the opportunity for her motive. Raine could have sworn Shaira had been ready to rip out Amber's (alleged) glossy hair extensions from their very glue, but Xavier had been kind enough, and smart enough, to swap seats with Shaira.
Soon, Antonio found himself between Shaira and Amber. To say Antonio had completely disliked the new seating arrangement would have been a lie, even though he seemed to have zero interest in Amber. Of course, even the 'charms' of a cat-fight wear off, especially on a plane flight where one is crammed into a seat and the seat-belt sign is perennially 'On'. In an effort to avoid both of them, Raine had observed how he'd pretended to be asleep, and then noted how Shaira's eyes threateningly jumped towards Amber every few minutes, and vice versa. Even in his faux-sleep, there was no escape. Antonio was afraid to open his eyes, lest the females next to him let rip with a hard-core girl-fight. Then again, he might not have wanted to miss that.
It was at that point, that Raine remembered she'd resumed her reading of The Odyssey on the plane. It was the part where the striking nymph Calypso trapped Odysseus with extreme zeal, wanting to keep him captive for her own purposes. All Odysseus wanted was to return to his beautiful wife Penelope, fearing for the number of suitors desperate for his wife's married, and hopefully loyal, hand. Raine remembered how, at the time, she thought mythology was feeling startlingly similar to real life. Then she'd thrown a well-timed glance towards Amber, who'd been blatantly hitting on Antonio. The Italian had appeared too tired to totally object, either that or he saw no harm in having a meaningless flirt with Amber. Shaira had been asleep, or at least, she'd appeared to be. Raine knew that girl couldn't sleep on planes…Asleep with one eye open, more likely.
Even the six novels and physics notes in her hand-luggage hadn't managed to completely distract Raine from the antics of her peers, especially thanks to the forced proximity of plane seating. Always riveting, Raine thought drily, returning to her book.
Having collected their luggage from the baggage claim, the teenagers seated themselves in one of the lobbies of the main airport. Raine glanced over at Emo-Kid and Nerd-kid, a pair that were also lost in their respective worlds. It was a wonder no one in their class knew their real names, not even her. Emo-kid was sulking, like a living shadow, in the corner of the lobby. While Nerd-Kid, excitedly flicked through a magazine titled "Theorem". It was filled with mind-bending maths puzzles and other captivating things, like… Sci-fi, Hard drives and the ongoing question as to who ruled the nerd-world: Pirates or Ninjas.
Just then, Seth and Lana approached Raine. Lana wore a grin of pure glee. It somehow visually reduced her to an impish little girl; one who'd just finished an enormous spiral lollipop, and was thoroughly overjoyed with the array of candy colours that had stained her tongue. All she need do was cross her eyes, to complete the image. Seth didn't appear as elated as his twin, but couldn't keep the twitches of a smile away. It was hard not to smile, staring at Lana with her ridiculously goofy grin in her tomboy get-up. The siblings sat down on the ground in front of Raine.
"So, Raine, how's it going?" Lana asked buoyantly, glancing at Raine and then winking conspicuously at Seth, whose cheeks turned a ripe shade of pink. Sitting cross-legged Lana slightly rocked backwards and forwards, continuing to glance at her brother then Raine…Then Raine, then her brother. Seth's face grew more flushed with each glance.
"Sufficiently well." Raine answered, looking up from the book to afford Lana a cursory glance.
Swallowing, Seth chuckled. "Ignore her, Raine, Lana's on a bit of a 'high'…She really shouldn't go on planes…or anywhere… Without her medication. Or maybe she OD'd on the stuff, not to worry, it's harmless. She's just going to be slightly insane for awhile."
Still highly-strung, Lana reverted from her usual punch to a feminine slap on Seth's arm. A tight slap.
"What was that for!?" Seth complained, rubbing his stinging arm, seriously wondering when Lana learnt to slap like a girl. It was ludicrous, the amount of times his sister beat him up. Lana's grin grew to a size that wouldn't have looked out of place on a maniacal Disney villain. Ignoring her brother, she turned back to Raine.
"So, what's happening Raine? When are we going?" She asked, like an eager puppy. If Lana's behaviour had been any more unreal, Raine could have sworn she would sprout a tail to match her tone.
"We have all retrieved our luggage and now we are waiting for a few vehicles to collect us and take us to our accommodation for the night. Then tomorrow at midday, we are departing by ferry to the island of Mykonos, where we will begin our experience of Ancient Greek society with a study on their religion. We are staying in Mykonos for four days of our two weeks, and tomorrow, from there will be travelling to Delos to visit the Temple of Apollo." Raine recited with the crisp perfection of a news-reader-gone-tour-guide.
Lana nodded slowly, her mouth hanging open childishly. Seth shook his head in embarrassment.
Lack of sleep… High altitudes, he mentally confirmed, Note-to-self: Never let Lana get drunk.
"Our ride's here, people!" Shaira shrieked vivaciously. Her excitement contrasted with her random but elegant grand jeté, a throw-back to her child-hood ballet days. Show off, Ruby's inner voice muttered, as she ambled along with the majority of the class. Only Lana strode forward, an equally hyperactive vigour in her footsteps, and caught up with Shaira. Energy levels are complicated cases, and the ordinary effects of sleep deprivation seem to be inverted for some…Case in point, twice over, Raine decided, glancing at the Shaira and Lana, both reasonably ahead of the class. Raine remembered the time Lana had stayed up all night completing her health assignment. She'd gone to school the next day sounding like she'd had helium balloons for breakfast.
Everyone glanced up wearily, and saw a young olive-skinned Greek man with a charming air of Mediterranean vitality about him. He was holding a sign that said "Welcome, Mortonia Heights."
The exhausted students dragged up themselves from their respective walls and seats and sluggishly moved one foot in front of the other. Shaira, enthralled by their Greek guide, was already ahead. Lana was with her, still consumed by her energy-high. Identifying Shaira's target destination, Antonio was hot on his girlfriend's heels. And, it would appear Odysseus truly does not care for Calypso's many seductive offers, but for Penelope, and is ready to fight off any suitors…He might have been wise to show Penelope this on the plane, ignoring Calypso altogether…And the saga continues…Raine thought, shaking her head as she watched her friends up ahead, inwardly revelling in the irony of Homeric parallels.
Who does Shaira think she is? Miranda Kerr!? Ruby's train of exasperated thoughts raced full-steam ahead, too far gone to stop at the next platform. Jaggedly dragging her wheelie-suitcase along, she watched as Shaira continued strutting forwards, like the whole world was her catwalk.
"Hey Rubes."
Immediately grasping recognition of the voice that had just spoken, she turned, noting Alex's timid smile as he pulled his luggage alongside her. Ruby was ready to jump out of her skin.
"Hey Alex," she greeted casually; her lightly perspiring hand immediately tightened its grip on her bag handle.
"Tired?" Alex asked, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards in a soft smile.
"Oh, hardly." Ruby answered, deadpan, throwing in a timely exaggerated yawn. Chuckling, Alex shook his head at his friend, as they continued walking side by side. Ruby's enjoyably distracted state-of-mind came to a rude standstill when she noticed Alex's face. His descent into a mode of day-dreaming had become very recognisable to her.
Fool. Ruby thought in frustration, all too aware of the subject of his dreams, who was standing up ahead, and all too tired of witnessing such moments, I like you, Alex…But you can be such a fool.
Soon enough they reached their host, Demetrius Papadakis. The teachers gathered the students, and instructions were explained, reiterated and then re-confirmed. Like cattle, students were quickly ushered into the maxi-taxi's awaiting them outside. Ruby was aware they had little time to rest before their ferry ride to Mykonos later that day, and found herself sighing aloud. Twenty vague minutes later, they reached their stay for the night. The majority of the students disembarked with forced energy, battling heavy eyelids and uncooperative limbs.
Ruby continued to drag her wheelie luggage, when an unpleasant thought struck her, something Miss Clover had said, amidst the mass of instructions…Something about rooming assignments. An ogre-sized groan escaped Ruby's lips. She remembered, unfortunately.
…And Ruby, Shaira and Raine, Miss Clover had said, her gaze darting to locate each of the three girls, you three, are going to be roommates for the rest of this trip…
Clenching her teeth, Ruby found herself squinting slightly. A surge of unexpected strength ran through her. Gripping her baggage handle with a vengeance, she followed the rest of the students into the hotel lobby.
Shaira had torn herself away from a chat with the charismatic Demetrius, to deal with the fuming Italian standing behind her, and noticed Ruby, across the room. The red-head seemed to be channelling a livid flame. It was only a moment later that Shaira realised she was glaring back at Ruby. That still felt quite new to her. What have I ever done to you? She seriously wondered. Whatever it was, the answer was certainly not plastered across Ruby's face, and Ruby did not appear like she was about to begin sharing with a cheery discussion over high tea. Then, Shaira remembered something; they were going to be roommates on this 'holiday' …Thrilling.
And the trip had barely started.
"Well, what news do you have?" Hades snarled, staring at the three figures in front of him. The Lord of the Underworld began pacing restlessly, moving in and out of the shadows of his dark antechamber. The three shrouded figures in front of him remained unmoving. The opening chords of Andre Lloyd Webber's Overture "Phantom of the Opera" rang loudly, like a theatrical clap of thunder. In the corner of the antechamber, Hades' organ continued playing itself, a fitting tune for the mood.
"I said." Hades began over the music, sounding oddly brusque and charming, while the organ resonated in retaliation "What news do you have for me?"
The scraggly, cloaked beings shook their heads in unison. The God of the Dead was slowly losing his patience, and it was showing on his face. His visage was a strange mix of features that did not quite match, severely shaped eyes that seemed frozen in a permanent glare, thin lips that curved sharply into the corners of his mouth and blade-like cheekbones, tautly covered by skin like stretched ivory silk. None of his features seemed like they should belong to the same face, yet they formed an arresting countenance.
"We might see all, but that does not give you the excuse to be rude to us, and would you turn that music down? Always the same song, Hades, honestly." one of the cloaked-creatures spoke up. Her most distinguishing feature was her single eye.
Hades waved his arm near in the space near the instrument. The organ ceased playing immediately, just as the proverbial curtain would have gone up. Hades sneered. The Fates enjoyed their cryptic ways, but to avoid revealing their prophecies and visions altogether was new behaviour. The God smoothed his black robes and formed a suave smile.
"Ladies, please." He commenced, in dulcet tones "You lovely dears are my last hope. My foolish brother rarely discloses any of his business plans to me, so naturally, I knew only you, would be able to aid me."
The Fates remained unsmiling. The one possessing the eye rolled it. Hades furrowed his brows, so thin and black they appeared to be painted with charcoal ink. He cast his mind back to that day he'd unexpectedly shown up on Mount Olympus. What a welcome he'd received. Zeus, the almighty king had rapidly finished his discussion as soon as they had noticed Hades' presence. He'd felt especially curious when they were discussing the need for mortals. It wasn't as though it was uncommon for them to play with mortals, to play conniving conductor to entire orchestras of those foolish humans. What intrigued him was that the discussion had ceased, the moment he questioned their conversation about mortals.
Hades spat at the ground, and then glanced at the Fates. The three wore equally undecipherable smiles.
"Here's a prophecy for you!" one of them began. Hades raised his eyebrows inquisitively.
The Fate attempted to clear her husky throat, to no avail. "In eighteen years…Precisely…The planets will align…ever SO nicely—"
"Wait a minute. I think you gave me this one a century ago. At my last hostile take-over bid." Hades answered, deadpan.
"We did?" the Fate murmured, then smiled, revealing a myriad of discoloured teeth "I suppose we did!" Hades shook his head.
"Honestly, my fair beauties, I only want to know two things…Why were my fellow Gods, searching for mortals, and where are they…I have not seen a single one since my alleged 'intrusion' at Olympus." Hades sank into his onyx throne, adding theatrical nuances by reaching for his temple and exhaling heavily. His pallor complexion paled a shade, as he pretended to be deeply hurt by the Olympians. The Fates did not miss his dramatic flair.
Turning to face one another, they whispered amongst themselves. A miniature cacophony of cackles and hisses wafted from the trio's circle, treading on Hades' slipping patience. They seemed to be swapping their single eye around, multiple times. Twisting his lips into an impatient scowl, Hades forced himself to wait.
The Fates moved away from one another and turned to face the darkly inquisitive deity before them.
"We," began the one with the eye "At present, past and future…cannot see the Olympians."
"WHAT." Hades exploded, standing up, flames forming in his hands.
"It is true," said an eyeless fate "We have looked through all the elements of time, and there is no sign of any of them, in any form, divine, mortal or animal. It is as though they do not exist."
Noting Hades' flame-bearing hands, the fate with the eye scurried forwards.
"We can, however, tell you one thing." She stated, her voice high and crackly.
"Please do." Hades replied gravely.
She nodded and continued. "For any success you crave in the immediate future, you must choose a mortal from the 21st century…We can show you the group from which you must choose. What happens after you choose, and how it happens, is up to you."
Questioning what the Fates saw or prophesised rarely resulted in positive activity. They were never wrong. As random and illogical as their words sounded to the Lord of the Underworld, Hades raised a sleek brow, his lips set in pondering, and said "Show me."
The Fates formed a circle and linked hands, their single eye levitating just above them, widening, glowing with a piercing light. Hades came closer, peering into the radiant orb.
He saw a group of eighteen young mortals. The majority seemed exhausted, slumped in plush seats, oddly shaped bags next to them. A few energetic adolescents were engaged in conversation, or were fluttering around some of the adult mortals. Then Hades glanced at one human, whose presence did not seem to fit into the former or the latter. The search was over. He narrowed his eyes, focused on his chosen one.
"That is the one. I choose that mortal." Hades announced, unwavering urgency present in his dark tones. The glow disappeared at a fierce speed, and then, the Fates themselves.
I hope you guys enjoyed that :) I'd love to hear your thoughts!
XOXO, dazzeling diamond.
