Chapter 11

Meet by my truck after school, and then we'll head over to my place, is what Herry had told her before she rushed out of their English class. Opal inspected the tank of a vehicle while she waited, but didn't dare touch it. The truck had its rumors just like the people that rode around in it. All of them came to the same conclusion, stay away from it unless you want to see the big one angry. Herry was probably happy for that rumor, no one ever parked beside his truck in the student lot because of it. Opal didn't even know they made trucks like this, it was a beast.

"Hey, sorry I'm late," his voice called and she startled, taking a jump away from the impeccably shined machine, "I, ah, got a little caught up."

"Sure," she whispered with an accepting nod as he unlocked his truck and climbed in. She watched him through the passenger door's window as he stuck the key into the ignition and the engine came roaring to life. He looked to her then, an amused grin tugging at his lips as he leaned over to unlock the passenger door and swing it open.

"You coming?" he asked with a crooked smile.

"Yeah," she brushed at her bangs and hauled herself inside. She quickly took in the cab of his truck; it looked like a military vehicle. What was up with the seatbelts, they were like harnesses. She fumbled with the latch for a moment.

"What do you listen to?" he asked, flicking on the radio.

"Anything," she shrugged so he left it on the country station. She leaned against the passenger door, as far away from him as she could manage while he drove her out of town.

"So?" Herry piped, searching for a conversation topic to alleviate the silence, "how was your day?"

"Good, yours?" she said.

"Fine," he said and they feel into another silence before he told her, "Yeah, so I'm going to apologize for my Granny now, she's… interesting."

She nodded, sparing a glance in his direction. She took the chance while his mind was occupied on driving to study him more closely then she usually had the opportunity to. It was odd how crushes plunked down on her. In her mind the ideal guy was not a foot taller than she was and did not look like he could be a candidate as a body builder. There was something about his muscles that fascinated her though, how they moved under his skin like a machine oiled to perfection. She knew it must take dedication to achieve and maintain a body like his, but it was the little things that really grabbed her attention. Like how his calves flexed under his skin with every footstep, how the tendons in his wrist would twitch up to his forearm as he wrote, or the jump in his pecks when he tossed his duffle over his shoulder.

She shifted her gaze to his face. It was his smile that caused her initial attraction to him. He nearly always had a smile on his face and took next to nothing to get him to laugh. When he smiled big enough to pull out those little dimples in his cheeks she couldn't help but smile herself. His nose looked surprisingly intact, no crooked signs of breaks she was so use to seeing in her father's nose.

Opal leaned forward as they turned down a road with small quant houses, all of them on the edge of the costal forest. The neighborhood was close to her home, but she had never been around it. The driveway Herry pulled into had a well tended, blooming garden, a stone walkway to a wooden porch with many more flowers in planters and boxes. The driveway was obviously hardly used. Grass had moved in to cover it in all but two depressions from tires. Jumping out of the passenger's side Opal followed Herry up to the door.

"Gran, It's me," he announced as he opened the door. Opal waited outside as she watched a woman even shorter than she was hobble out of the kitchen to greet her grandson, reaching up a hand to pinch his cheek. The elderly woman took a glance behind Herry out onto the patio.

"Herry?" she asked him suddenly, "Who is this? Do you have a girlfriend?"

"What," he said, choking out his words, "No, Granny, I don't have a girlfriend, remember I told you I had an English project."

"Oh yes, I just thought you would be bringing one of your friends," the woman smiled, "what's it on dear?"

"Greek mythology," Herry said as he gestured for Opal to come in and hesitantly she did.

"Oh well that won't be a problem for you, being a hero –"

"Gran," he interjected, slicing the air in front of his throat with his hand. He turned to Opal and, noticing the curious looks she was giving him, laughed nervously, "Should we get started then?"

"Sure," Opal nodded following him into the living room taking a seat beside him on the couch. Herry dropped a laptop on the coffee table and flicked it on, waiting for it to whirl to life he said, "So you liked Orpheus?"

"Yeah, unless you want to do something else," she said.

"No, that's fine," Herry said clicking on the log in profile with his name and quickly typed in the password it requested.

"Hey, why do you spell your name with an e instead of an a?" she noted.

"Um, family name," his response was unsure, like so many of his answers to her questions, but he quickly turned the question away from himself, "What about Opal, not a very common name."

"It's October's birthstone, I was born in October and it's my mom's favourite gem," she told him, "Apparently it was my grandmother's favourite too, but I never met her."

"All right," he nodded in acceptance and then pulled up a Google search, "What does opal look like anyways?"

"Pictures don't really do it justice," she said, "I'll get my mom to show you her engagement ring sometime, it has an opal."

"Cool," he nodded and then got on topic, pulling up an already started word document on the subject. She quickly scanned over what he had written. What he had summarized was what she had learned from her parents the night before.

"Any ideas on how to present this?" she asked.

"Actually," he sent her a sideways smirk.

"What?" she asked skeptically.

"If I could get you a lyre, could you learn a song in time to perform it?"

"You can get a lyre? Where do you even find one?" she asked, flabbergasted.

"I have friends in high places," he smiled crookedly, "So, what do you say?"

"Yeah, bring it on," the excitement plastered itself onto her face. This was an opportunity she never thought she would have, remembering her book she reached for her bag by her feet, "Take a look at this."

He smiled to himself as he watched her. She was infectious when she was happy like this. She flipped open her bag and pulled out a leather bound journal. She offered it over to him and he drew his brows together as he took it, reading the name on the cover. He sent her a curious look, running his eyes up and down her, seeing her in a way he hadn't expected to. He knew his gaze was making her uncomfortable. She shrank back into herself and began tugging at her bangs.

"Where did you get this?" he whispered, gently flipping through the music.

"It's my mom's, passed down for generations apparently," she told him.

"Shit," he set it on the coffee table in front of him, gripping his knees as he processed this new revelation.

"What?" she inquired softly.

"Ah, sorry, that's just really, really… interesting," he looked over to her, "family heirlooms… yeah, it's cool."

"Do you think it could have been him?" Opal asked.

Yes I do, he thought to himself, catching himself right before he nodded, he answered her with a joking smile, "How common of a name was Orpheus?"

"Herry!" came a yell from the kitchen.

"Yes Gran?" he eagerly got to his feet to escape the conversation.

"Will you go get me some herbs from the garden?" she asked sweetly and he obliged.

"No problem," he turned to walk through the living room to the back door, "I'll be right back Opal."

"Sure," she nodded and took the chance to glance around the room. There were some pictures on a table pressed up against the wall that initially got her attention. One of Herry and his Granny fishing, it looked fairly recent, and there was more from his childhood. There was one of him playing with a teddy bear, wiggling it in his Granny's face. She had to admit he was a cute kid, chunky, but cute. Opal continued to glance around the room, spotting a piano in the far corner.

Humming she rose to her feet and padded over to the kitchen, "Um, excuse me, Herry's Granny, can I play your piano?"

"Of course dear," she smiled over her shoulder at her from where she was chopping various vegetables, "and you can just call me Granny."

"Okay," she nodded, "Thanks." Smiling brightly she slipped over to the instrument up against the wall, a dark mahogany. She lifted back the cover lying over the keys with a gentle motion. She laughed lightly seeing the little pieces of masking tape with purple numbers stuck to some of the keys, knowing if she followed that progression she would hear twinkle-twinkle little star.

She sat down on the bench, extending her arms to rotate her wrists before gingerly poising them to being. She started playing some classical music, her fingers floating over the keys as she pressed them. She closed her eyes and swayed with the music, putting the full force of her body into the crescendo and leaning back as the song dwindled to a close.

"That's beautiful," Herry's Granny said from the doorway when she finished the piece, "keep playing."

"Kay," she smiled and continued. Herry walked in moments later, freezing when he heard the music. He didn't know much about music, but he knew this didn't give him the usual feeling he got when he listened to classical stuff, and that feeling was sleepy. It all just made his suspicions of her as a descendent of Orpheus stronger. He reached into his pocked for his PMR. Hiding it down at his side he recorded the tail end of her performance. Hastily snapping it shut when she finished and looked over to him, the movement drew her eyes to his side before he had time to jam it back into his pocket.

"Here Granny," he ignored her looks and handed over a fistful of plants.

"Ah, thanks Herry," the woman beamed and patted his forearm, "You're such a good boy."

"Ready?" he turned back to Opal and jutted his thumb over to his laptop. She nodded and slipped back to the couch for them to continue planning out their project. It didn't take exceptionally long and when they were finished he offered to give her a ride back home.

Back in his truck she said, "Hey, I thought you lived in town."

"Umm, yeah," he said, "I live with a few people, but they're kind of touchy with bringing guests over."

"Oh," she nodded, "you're all scholarship students, right?"

"What?" his face contorted in confusion for a moment before he remembered the alibi Hermes had created for them, "Oh yeah, wrestling scholarship, for me at least."

"Mmm," she nodded and then asked him with a grin, "Does your Granny call every girl you bring home your girlfriend?"

He smiled and gave a hardy laugh, "No, sorry about that, but I did already apologize for anything she would do on the way over here." She smiled at his answer, but nothing more. She had hoped her question would make his cheeks a little red, make it look like he was a little uncomfortable with the whole situation. Nothing, he was just as chill as he usually was. She didn't receive any of the hints she was looking for, that maybe he liked her as more than a causal friend from school.