Chapter 13

Herry looked down at his bag crumpled in the bottom of his locker and groaned. Did he really need to bend down and get it? Was there anything in there that was pressingly important? Yes, he had that lyre in there. Slowly he shifted his weight off his right leg and reached down to grab it. He hissed trough his teeth as he straightened, reaching his hand around to press his fingers into the back of his leg, the muscles there screaming in agony.

"What's the matter with you?" Opal asked him, glancing over from her locker.

"Ah, I think I pulled my hamstring," he said, "hurts like a bitch."

"What did you do?"

"Didn't stretch before we had to… ah, before wrestling practice, yeah, something like that," he drew his brows together as he talked through his answer. In a quick attempt to distract her from his answer he pulled his duffle bag in front of himself to zip open the top and tug out the lyre inside.

"Oh my god," she exclaimed, dropping her bag at her feet in consequence of her hands shooting up to cover her mouth. She shifted her wide eyes from the instrument to Herry's and then back again. She reached out a delicate hand, fingers hovering over the shimming gold surface. Her eyes flashed up to his once more with expectancy, waiting for his permission to touch. He couldn't keep the chuckle in if he tried.

"Go ahead," he said. She lifted it from his hands as gently as she might a butterfly, turning it over to inspect its immaculate form.

"This is… Oh. My. God."

An absentminded smile tugged on Herry's lips as he watched her in her wide eyed wonder.

"Hey," she jarred her head up to look at to him in inquiry, "Come to the music room with me so I can give it a try?"

"Ah, sure," he replied a little caught off guard, he hadn't expected an invitation like that from his quite little locker neighbor, or any request for him to come with her anywhere for that matter. She gave him a bright smile, so big it squished out her round cheeks and almost crinkled her eyes closed. Spinning on her heels she went to lead him down the hall. Herry waited for a moment in hesitation, pointing down to her bag forgotten on the floor. He considered bending down to get it when he realized she wasn't going to remember, but the floor was so far away for a strained hamstring. Instead he called her name and gestured down at the pack.

"Oh," she hopped back on quick feet to scoop it up and toss over her shoulder, "I totally forgot." She sent him another toothy smile and started off down the hall once more. The music room was practically abandoned. The only remaining soul was the teacher, he offered his prized student a warm greeting when she walked in, but his face dropped when he noticed what she was holding. Instantly Apollo's gaze turned to a glare directed at the boy behind her. Herry looked away from the god sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Excuse me for a moment Opal," Apollo said, taking Herry's arm as he brushed by the teen and led him out into the hall.

"No problem Mr. Palool," she said.

"Palool?" Herry taunted.

"What? It's an anagram of Apollo," the god defended, "but that's not what we're talking about. Why did you give her a lyre?"

"I, ah, think she's a descendent of Orpheus," he muttered the only reasonable explanation he had on giving her the instrument.

The god was taken aback. He stepped back into the room and observed his student in a new light. She was plucking at the stings, getting a feel for the instrument. When she was confident she understood the sounds it made she pulled out her mother's old journal.

"No," Apollo muttered.

"What?" Herry asked.

"That book, I gave it to Orpheus," the god said but kept his eyes on the girl. Her first run through the song was a little rough, but she did it again and again till it ran smoothly. Smiling in satisfaction she set the lyre down on her lap and looked over to the two men at the door.

"Chickadee," Apollo muttered.

Opal sent him a surprised and skeptical look, her smile vaporizing in a second. Quietly she repeated the nickname only her parents had ever called her.

"Opal, keep practicing that," Apollo cleared his throat, "I want to hear it finished."

"Yeah, sure," she said, a warm smile returning to her face and got to her feet, meeting Herry at the door she asked, "What you think?"

"That's what an A sounds like," he said, flashing a grin.

She smiled and gave a light laugh, walking with him out into the student parking lot. There she realized that in her excitement she forgot she had a bus to catch. Snapping her fingers she voiced her frustration, "Damn it."

"What?" he sent her a questioning look with slight concern.

"I missed the bus," she said, hunching her shoulders as she huffed out a sigh, "Can I borrow your phone?"

"I can give you a ride."

"No, I can't ask you for a ride, I live way out of town," she said and shook her head.

"You didn't ask," he said with a smirk, "I offered."

She bit her lip and looked up to him with consideration. She reached up a hand to pull on the curls at the back of her neck and nodded, "You're sure, you're not supposed to be somewhere right now?"

"Yes I'm sure," he said and waved her down the concert stairs. Taking them more slowly than he usually did, the back of his thigh burst with pain at each step. It was such an infuriating injury. Sprained muscles happened quite frequently when Cronus suddenly decided to let loose a raging monster on the city, because he simply didn't have the time to ensure he was limber enough. In his truck he pushed his foot up against the firewall to stretch out his aching leg. All well, it would probably be fine by the morning.

Theresa was reading when a knock sounded on her door. She marked her page with her finger and looked up from where she lounged on her bed to call them in. When Jay cracked the door open she sent over a glare. He cleared his throat and pulled at the collar of his shirt as he stepped inside.

"Theresa," he said, turning to look down at his feet.

"Yes?" she prompted, pushing herself up to sit on the edge of her bed. Her lips were pressed together in a tight line, her brows knitted and eyes narrowed.

"I'm sorry about the other day in the park," he glanced up to her through his eyelashes and revealed the white rose he had hidden behind his back.

"Oh," forgetting she was marking a page she set her book down on the mattress to rush over to him. With gentle fingers she lifted the flower from his hand and sent him a smile.

"I was thinking maybe we could go for another walk, no talk about Cronus this time, I promise," he held out his hand, "What do you say?"

"Sure," she set the flower down on her nightstand and happily clasped his hand.

"Good," he nodded and pulled her out of her room and down the stairs. Out on the sidewalk Theresa motioned to take her hand back, but Jay held fast, sending her over a smile as he tugged her closer. Swooning she let out a small sigh and rested her head against his shoulder as they strolled down the street hand in hand.

It felt good to have a moment like this; just a simple and normal walk as a couple. She smiled at the people they passed on the street. They would see her and Jay as any other regular couple, for a moment she clung to that thought. She drank in a deep breath of fresh air, bringing with it the subtle hints of Jay's cologne, the one she had got him for his birthday. The sun had been peaking in and out from behind clouds all day long, and it seemed like it picked the perfect time to reappear to shine down on her face.

They rounded into the park, the floating of birdsongs becoming more frequent in the brushing of the tree branches in the wind. Theresa let Jay lead her down the various paved paths in the park. She had long lost her desire to pay attention to where they were going, content just to have the warmth of his body next to hers. The feel of his fingers entwined with her own, her soft skin against his rough.

"Here we are," he came to a stop and she blinked her eyes into focus, lifting her head from his shoulder in slight disorientation.

"What?" she turned to ask him.

He sent her a warm smile and gestured to a red blanked laid down on the fresh grass, in the shade of a massive oak with twisting branches reaching off of the knarred trunk. A basket was set on it, bur the top was closed so she couldn't see what was inside.

"This is for me?" she said with a gasp, looking to him with her green eyes wide.

"For us," he reached for her other hand and tugged her over.

"Jay, I don't know what to say," she shook her head in wonder as she sat with him, she giggled and leaned over to place a soft kiss on his lips, "Thank you."

"Yeah, well, it's been ages since we worried about…" he blushed slightly and cleared his throat, "About us." She gave a content smile and let him take back one of his hands to flip open the basket.

"Champagne?" Theresa taunted, "Jay, rebel."

"It's not, it's just sparking juice," he sent her a weak smile and shrugged his shoulders.

"Should have known, goodie-two-shoes," she leaned forward to kiss his cheek, "This is really sweet Jay."

"I'm glad you think so," he poured two glasses and handed one over, clinking his wine glass against hers in the process. She giggled and took a sip as she watched him. He could be so infuriating sometimes, and then he went and did something like this. Something that would make her heart melt and remind her why she was in love with him.