Here is chapter 21! I don't have school today, so hopefully I can get a few chapters out! Please review. I'll post the next chapter as soon as I get two reviews. This chapter is probably gonna make you all hate me, so, um, don't kill me? Kay? Kay. Cool.
AngelicVampireGirl: I wanna go to MOJH too! How cool would that be? I actually did mention that it was finished and that I was working on a sequel in chapter twelve. So there. Ha. I win. I'm not trying to trick you into liking Macey, I promise, because you won't. Ever. It's just really hard to explain so bear with me until we get there. Thanks for another great review! Glad you liked it!
ArtyMoonSon: Thank you so much! If I ever publish a book, I'll be sure to let you know. There's actually quite a few more chapters after this one, I hope I'm not boring you! The sequel is about 100 pages shorter with a few less chapters, but the chapters are longer.
Disclaimer: YOU NEED ME AND I DON'T NEED YOU (I hope someone out there got that reference Ed Sheeran, anybody? Nope? Okay.)
Artemis
It's always unnerving when Dad wants to see you. As I walk through the palace, I try to shove the thoughts out of my head. No, Dad isn't throwing me off Olympus. He hasn't brought Orion back to life and is forcing me to marry him. Hermes is still alive. Calm yourself. You'll be fine.
The palace is, as always, perfect. Everything is sparklingly clean and in perfect order. The perfection gives it this surreal feeling, like when you go on vacation and your favorite shows come on at 7:00 instead of 7:30. Like, that's some weird shit right there. Always confuses me. I reach the throne room and knock on the door.
"Artemis," My father booms, "come in." I push open the doors and step inside, closing them behind me and then turning to face him.
"You wanted to see me," I say emotionlessly, staring at the floor and fiddling with the hem of my shirt. I've never had the best relationship with my father. He's clearly favored my brother for my entire life, and he just doesn't have time for the other one. Me. I guess, in his mind, I'm tough and can fend for myself. I don't need help. Or maybe he just likes Apollo better.
"Artemis, when you were born, you made a very important promise," He reminds me. My heart sinks.
"The vow of virginity," I supply.
"Yes, the vow of virginity. But, as I've seen, you've fallen in love," He says. I blush furiously.
"You could say that."
"With Hermes. Don't get me wrong here, I couldn't care less about your love life. You'd be free to date anyone you like. But there are rules, Artemis. Rules you can't go around breaking, and you've broken enough of them," He tells me sternly. I remember the moment when I drew my bow, and the next moment Orion was dead.
"And?" I prompt.
"And there are consequences for breaking these rules. Artemis, you chose the woods and the hunt over love. You can't go back on that decision," He says gravely.
"So, what do I need to do?" I ask.
"You need to make your final choice," He answers, his voice deathly serious. "The woods and the sport that you love, or Hermes?" I want to cry. I want to curl up on this perfectly polished floor and cry. I want to sob for all the pain I'll have to cause, because I know what I want. But I can't do that to him! I love him just as I love the woods, just as he loves the sky! I can't do this. I can't make this decision. How can he ask me to choose between what I love and who I love? Doesn't he realize the consequences? Doesn't he know that just a week prior to today, Hermes jumped off a building? Doesn't he know that Hermes is manic depressed? Doesn't he know that by making me choose, I could take Hermes's life?
But if I choose Hermes, I will take my own.
"Artemis," My father booms impatiently, "what is it going to be?" I feel the tears pricking in my eyes. I can't, I can't, I can't. I'm not ready for this. I'm only fourteen and here I am, making the choice that will change my life forever! Why can't I have both? Because you promised, a little voice in my head reminds me. "Artemis!" No, no, no. This isn't happening. This is a bad dream. I can't do this, I just can't. To take the forest from me is to take my life, but to take Hermes is to take my heart. Which do I value more? Is it worth living with no heart? But what's a heart without a life? "I know this is a hard decision, but I haven't got all day! What do you choose?"
"Give me a week," I beg, "I'll be ready then!"
"Artemis, I've given you all the time I can. It's time to choose," He says solemnly.
"Please!" I cry, "Don't make me do this! You don't know what you're doing!"
"I know exactly what I'm doing," He sighs, "and I don't want to do it. But rules are rules, Artemis."
"You make the rules!" I remind him.
"There is magic that is much more powerful than me," He tells me, "I cannot change what has always been." It's time, Artemis. Time to make your choice.
"I...," I trail off, not ready to let the words leave my mouth. I want a few more seconds of having both.
"Yes?" My father leans forwards in his chair. More than anything, right now, I want the relationship my brother has with Dad. I want him to see the pain I'm going through and care about it. I want him to let me cry, and to hold me while I do it. I want him to help me. I want him to be my father. But that's not the question. I'll always have Dad. The question is much more serious. "Artemis, what do you want?!" Both, I answer mentally, I want what I can't have. I want the freedom of the woods, the power of the bow in my hands, the triumph when the animal falls down. But I want the sweetness of love, the pure emotion of kissing him, and the happiness that comes with it. But I can't have both. I have to choose. "Artemis, now or never. And 'never' isn't really an option."
"I guess..."
"Yes?"
"I guess I choose hunting."
"Today, we will be learning to use the basic magical powers all of you possess," Hecate tells us. "While you may not have the capabilities that I do, you can all do a few things. For instance: color changing. Today, you will each be giving a colored piece of paper. By the end of class, it should be the color of its opposite on the color wheel." Hecate passes out papers to us. Mine is blue. Next to me, Athena has yellow.
"Is there a point to this lesson?" I whisper to her.
"Is there a point to any of Hecate's lessons?" She replies.
"Point there," I admit. Hecate stands before the class and claps her hands, calling us to attention.
"Well, let's get colorful!" She announces, probably trying to be witty. It doesn't work.
"Her teaching methods are awful," I mutter, glancing around the classroom to see how others are faring. Ares is proving that shaking the paper wildly and shouting, "Hocus pocus!" does nothing. Apollo has somehow set his on fire (go figure). Persephone's is sprouting flowers that are quickly taking over the entire classroom. Hephaestus has folded his into a lovely origami crane. And Hermes...oh gods, Hermes. His is flapping wildly around the classroom while he hobbles after it in vain. Every now and then, the paper, which has folded itself into a paper airplane, will swoop down and peck at someone's face just long enough for them to try and catch it. As soon as their hand gets too close, the paper flies away. As hectic as it is, Hermes has made more progress than me. Mine sits on the table, unmoving, untouched, and painfully blue. Like my mood.
"No!" Athena cries, smacking her paper, "Stop! Why is it doing that?!" I glance down at hers to see digits of pi simply appearing.
"Wow," I muse, "you've taken nerdiness to a whole new level. You're a nerd without even trying!" Athena scowls.
"Shut up and help me make it stop," She snaps. I would help her, except I don't know how. So I slap the paper as well. The classroom is filled with shrieks and failed attempts. Finally, Hecate gets to her feet and snaps her fingers. Instantly, the classroom comes back into order. Persephone's flowers shrink before our eyes until they're nothing. Apollo's paper goes out and becomes shiny and new, as if it weren't just on fire. Hermes's unfolds itself and floats back into his hands. The digits of pi on Athena's paper slowly erase themselves until the paper is blank. Hecate offers us one word.
"Focus," She says simply. So I turn back to my paper, stare at it intently, and think, orange, orange, orange, orange, orange, orange, this isn't working, orange, orange, orange...
"I got it!" Hephaestus shouts, waving his now red paper in the air. "It was yellow, and then it just turned red! POOF! Like that!"
"Red isn't the opposite of yellow on the color wheel, you doof. It's purple," Dionysus tells him, "I think."
"You're kidding," Hephaestus sighs. Dionysus shakes his head. "I want you to know that you've ruined my life."I shake my head at them.
"Are they the only ones who don't know they're gay?" Athena asks me.
"Yup," I reply, turning back to my paper. Orange, orange, orange, orange…. Suddenly, we hear screams from the back of the room.
"My hair is on fire!" Coral screams.
"I am so sorry!" Apollo cries, "Here, um, I can fix it, if you want-"
"Here, let me," Hestia offers. Coral keeps screaming and fanning at her head, which is only growing the flames. "Hold still, I'll fix it," Hestia promises.
" 'Hold still'?!" Coral squeals, "My hair is on fire!"
"Alright, everybody stay calm. This has happened a million times before," Hecate assures us, striding over.
"If you'd just stay still for a moment, I could put it out," Hestia tries, fluttering around Coral.
"My scalp is burning!" Coral whines. Hecate grabs her shoulders and holds her still while Hestia puts out the flames. Coral gives a sigh of relief, then reaches up to feel the remains of her hair. "My hair!" She cries, "It's gone!"
"I can fix that," Hecate sighs. With a snap of her fingers, Coral's gorgeous blonde locks grow right back in. I almost wish she's still a bald, charred mess. You can't have Hermes anymore, I remind myself, so there's no use in being jealous. I sigh and turn to look at Hermes, who's oblivious to what I have to tell him. He's hastily coloring his yellow paper green with a marker he probably stole from someone's pencil case. I refrain from laughing. It hurts too much, reminding me of the great and happy moments we had together. And I'm about to end them. He has no idea.
Did I make the right choice?
I don't think I'll regret choosing hunting in years to come, but I sure do regret it now. I already miss him, and technically we're still a couple. This is why you vowed to stay single, a little voice in my head wheedles, men are just too much drama. Stick with hunting. The animals will never cheat on you, or break your heart, or get you pregnant. You're a smart girl. You made the right decision. But another voice says, go back! Go back to Zeus and tell him you changed your mind! You'll be happy this way. Hermes is your soulmate. You two are meant to be. You've never been so happy as you were kissing him. And think of what you'll do to him. You'll break his heart, not to mention your own. He needs you now, you can't just leave him. Change your mind, Artemis! You made the wrong choice! I shove the voices out of my head. I've made my decision. I can't go back on it. Can I? Should I? Would I? No, I wouldn't. I don't want to have to make that decision ever again in my life. I'll stick with the choice I made. After all, hunting is what I was born to do. I wasn't put here to kiss boys. I'm the goddess of the hunt. I can't just not hunt. I could only pick one. Hunting was the obvious choice.
Still, I can't help but wonder, if I'd fought for it, could I have had both?
Orange, orange, orange, orange, orange, I made the wrong choice, orange, orange, orange, orange. Eventually, when you say a word long enough, it doesn't even sound like a word. Orange, orange, orange, orange, WHY ISN'T MY PAPER ORANGE?
"Has anyone managed to change the color of their paper?" Hecate asks.
"I did!" Hephaestus announces, "But, apparently, red isn't the opposite of yellow on the stupid color wheel."
"Well, that's better than anyone else did! We'll pick up where we left off next class. And next time, let's try not to set anything on fire," Hecate look pointedly at Apollo while she says this. Coral glares at him, her hands protectively covering her glossy blonde curls. The bell rings, and Hecate dismisses the class. The halls are filled with chatter about the latest scandal, but I don't know what it is, nor do I have any interest in learning. I follow the throngs of gossipping students to the cafeteria, only to learn that if we want to talk, we'll have to do it in Latin.
"Is est a mortuus lingua! Cur non discere?"(This is a dead language! Why do we have to learn it?) Apollo complains. I shrug my shoulders. I don't remember much Latin, so my conversations will probably consist only of, "Salve!" (Hello!)and, "Sic!" (Yes!) The level of noise in the lunchroom always goes down about ten levels when we have to speak in another language, especially one we don't have a class for anymore. Latin was replaced with Hungarian when we entered middle school, which was dumb, because Latin is actually useful. Hungarian? I mean, come on. When am I ever going to speak Hungarian? I head to our usual lunch table with everyone else, trying to think of something useful to say in Latin. So far, I've come up with, "Sum amictus vestimenta hodie!" (I am wearing clothes today!) which, luckily, is true.
"Quisquam memor latina quaecumque?" (Anyone remember any Latin?)Ares asks.
"Sic!" (Yes!) Hermes replies, "Olfacies quasi pedem." (You smell like foot.)
"Verum," (True.) Athena agrees. We sit down at our table and listen to the Latin conversations around us, trying to pick up something useful to say. Coral is telling her friends from the cheer team about her traumatic incident in Hecate's class, in which her hair caught on fire and she screamed. Fascinating. Then I remind myself that there's no use in hating her anymore, since I can't love anyone. The main reason I hated her was because she had all these boys wrapped around her finger, and I guess I was sort of jealous. But I don't need to be anymore. This is good, right?
"Students!" Professor Demeter calls, in Latin, "We have a new exchange student! Meet Thor." Thor speaks to us in slow, choppy Latin with a thick Scandinavian accent, so I can't even understand him when he introduces himself and tells us he is the Norse god of thunder. He sits with Theseus and his gang, and fits right in. All of them are big, muscular idiots who look the same from the back. Within a few minutes, you can't tell which one is Thor.
"An exchange student?" Apollo echoes skeptically (we've long since given up trying to have conversations in Latin), "Doesn't he have duties in...Norway, or wherever he's from?"
"Don't you have duties flying the sun around the Earth?" Athena points out. While we're still in school, Helios drives the sun, and Selene drives the moon. But as soon as we've graduated, the duties will be ours.
"Touché," Apollo replies.
"I don't understand how that works," Hermes says, "wouldn't you get, like, sunburn or something?"
"Sunburn?" Apollo repeats, "From inside the sun? I thought sunburn was the effect of being touched by the sun's rays. So, technically, if you're inside the sun, you wouldn't be touched by the rays, and therefore you wouldn't get sunburn."
"But isn't the sun just a big ball of fire?" Hermes points out, "So wouldn't you get burned?"
"Do I look like Jesus to you?" Apollo replies,
"Well," Hermes begins, "Jesus hasn't been-"
"Do I look like Wikipedia to you?" Apollo corrects. Hermes shrugs.
"I don't know what Wikipedia looks like, so maybe you do," He reasons.
"You are so annoying," Apollo sighs, "it's, like, amazing how annoying one person can be."
"Thanks, I try," Hermes replies. I tried, too, I think to myself, I tried to make Dad understand. I'm so sorry. I watch him joke with everyone else, so happy for the first time in ages, and I think he might be over the hump. Maybe he's gotten past the halfway mark in all of this, and things are finally going to start to get better.
And I'm going to ruin it all.
I walk down the white halls of the mental hospital, dreading the moment I'll open the door and let it all come out. The halls are buzzing with activity, but everything seems oddly muted to me. I can't focus. Inside, my world is crashing down. I know that I'll be left with the rubble, and that I'll piece it back together. But right now, I'm not sure if I'll be strong enough.
The door comes into view, and I want to turn back. My hand finds the doorknob and struggles to twist it. Calm down, I tell myself, taking a deep breath, be strong. You have to be strong. For him. I open the door. Hermes is sitting on the edge of his bed, fiddling with his hospital bracelet and looking utterly bored. His face lights up when he sees me.
I can't do this.
"Hey," He says. It's a fairly commonly used phrase that I could respond to in over thirty languages, but I feel as if my mouth is full of cotton.
"Hey," I force out.
"You okay?" He asks, looking at me with concern. I almost laugh at the irony. Here he is in a mental hospital, on crutches with stitches in his left side, and he's asking me if I'm OK. But I'm not. I'm so not OK. I'm about to ruin everything.
"Yeah, I'm fine. What about you?" He looks at the floor.
"Not too bad." Now or never.
"Hermes, I, uh, I talked to Dad last night." Oh gods, I can't do this. I can't, I can't, I can't.
"Yeah? What did he say?" He said I have to ruin your life.
"He, uh, well, remember the vow of virginity?" Hermes's face falls as he nods. "Well, uh, he said I have to choose. Between hunting and, um, you." He nods, his shoes suddenly becoming very interesting. "And, um, I..."
"You chose hunting."
"Yeah." I try to get a good look at his face, but he's still staring at his feet. I realize it's going to be hard to read the emotions of a boy who kept abuse a secret for six months. "I'm sorry."
"It's okay. I probably would have done the same, to be honest," He admits. No, you wouldn't, I think to myself, you're better than that.
"I love you, I really do. And I want you to know that I didn't want to do this. But I'm fourteen. And I can't choose love over what makes me who I am at age fourteen," I explain. He nods again.
"I get it. You don't have to apologize," He tells me. Yes, I do, I think to myself, I did this. I'm horrible. I could never deserve you. I wish he'd stand up for himself. I wish he'd yell, or cry, or something besides being so emotionless. He just nods, and takes it. It's a problem he's had all his life; he's a doormat. He lets people walk all over him. He lets Theseus bully him because Theseus likes to. He let Persephone kiss him to make her feel better. He let his mom beat him senseless because he thought it was his fault. He's letting me do this, right now.
"You'll find someone," I promise him, "someone who loves you." I love you, my mind cries, I love you more than anything in the world! I'm that someone who loves you!
"Maybe," He says, "I guess we all find something."
"I'm so sorry," I gush, "I just...I had to...I can't give up hunting. I'm sorry, I really am."
"It's okay, Artemis. If I took that from you, I would never forgive myself," He replies. That's just the problem with me. I'll feel bad about this for a while, but eventually, I will forgive myself. I'll forgive myself for breaking someone's heart, and someone who's gone through something like this at that! I'll forgive myself for doing this to him. But if I chose him, he truly would never forgive himself. No matter which I chose, I would hurt him, somehow.
"I, uh, I guess I'll go then." He doesn't say anything in reply, so I head towards the door. When I'm halfway out of it, he speaks up.
"Artemis?"
"Yeah?"
"Just try to be happy." Here he is, a week after jumping off a building, telling me to be happy.
"Yeah. You too."
"Some of us just aren't meant to be happy."
In that one sentence, I hear him give up. I hear him accept that this is just the way it's going to be. And it breaks my heart. Because if anyone is meant to be happy, he is. I can't imagine Hermes without a cheeky smile on his face, his loud laughter filling the room. A month or so ago, I probably wouldn't have been able to imagine him unhappy at all, but now I wouldn't have to imagine it. I saw it. I watched him jump of that building. I watched him plummet towards Earth. And right now, I'm watching him let go.
"Hermes?"
"Yeah?"
"Please don't give up."