Chapter Five
Jane
I glance over my shoulder and spot Marcus trailing behind me. What does it take to get rid of this guy? I bow my head, trying to blend in with the crowd, even though I have to keep stopping and checking my schedule to figure out where the hell I'm going. It doesn't help much that my face feels like a tomato from all the crying. My chest still aches but I didn't become a hunter of Artemis because I'm weak. Before long, Marcus has caught up to me.
"Hey" He murmurs; not looking at me directly. Strutting a little faster, I pull my books closer to my chest, like a safety net. "What's the connection between you and Zach?" He wonders, with all the tact of the average Gorilla, socialite he is not. I glare at him, channeling my inner Thalia, before rolling my eyes and scrambling through the crowd, until I finally reach my History class.
Snatching a seat in the back of the class, I plop down and pray to Zeus that Marcus isn't in this class too. Unfortunately Zeus doesn't seem like he's in a very generous mood, though he never really is, as Marcus meanders into the classroom. Out of the corner of my eye, I check and am relieved to see two other kids have occupied the seats on either side of me. Apparently Marcus doesn't really care. He saunters up towards the poor little kid sitting next to me, a freshman if I had to guess. He mutters something to the kid, that I don't catch and the poor twerp leaps to his feet and dashes to a seat in the middle of the classroom. Marcus takes his seat without hesitation.
"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to." He murmurs under his breath. I don't even acknowledge his existence and stare unwaveringly at the blank white board at the front of the class. Our teacher, Mr. Madison id my schedule's not lying, calls the class to attention. Returning to my mental checklist, I conclude he's not a monster, or a god, so I'm back to square one; just peachy.
Marcus
My muscles protest as the number fifty is called; I drop to my toes before transitioning into a plank position and giving one push up. I force myself back to my feet and watch my instructor carefully. She's a small woman, 5'2, of an athletic build, but no one messes with her, not ever. Personally, she's put me in multiple joint locks over the many years I've been doing martial arts. She goes by Miss. Miranda, and I still don't know her last name, after eight years of being in her class. She studies the group, checking for left over energy. Somehow, even when you're sure you're about to break and you just can't take it anymore, she always manages to push us just enough, without ever pushing us too far.
"Do your best to do another ten; do some on your knees if you have to."She tells us, and you can't hear the disappointed sigh from the class, but you can most definitely sense it. I take a breath before she calls out one again. I drop into a squat before moving into a plank and giving another push up. My arms ache and I feel the muscles shaking as I come within inches of the ground before pushing back up. I'm back on my feet and I glance over my shoulder to the poor kid who can barely get to his feet. I'm not quite sure if they're a boy or a girl, and they've only been here for a few weeks so they're not used to the intensity. I glance at Miss. Miranda who's discretely watching him as he scrambles to his feet. She pauses for a minute as we catch our breath.
"3" rings out across the room as the sound of dropping teenager's echoes in the small space. The main reason I can survive stuff like this is my ability to zone out. My mind wanders to Jane and Zach, neither of whom has spoken to me since the awkward lunch catastrophe. I still don't have a clue what the story behind that is, but I'm definitely curious.
I would say that there might be something else going on there before Zach moved here, but Zach isn't the type to get attached to a girl, or to be in any real relationships at all. Jane seems damaged though, so you never really know. There's no way that Jane will be opening up to me anytime soon, though.
"Four" bounces on the walls and I take a deep breath before repeating the process, with an exhausted sigh. I can't help but wonder what Jane is doing now, what her life is like outside of school, since she's been so cryptic.
….
Jane
Walking towards the park where Artemis was going to meet me, a hand lands on my shoulder. I immediately grab their wrist and twist around, forcing the perpetrator to his knees. Finally glancing at his face, I recognize him with a snarl.
"Tell me why I shouldn't flick my wrist and snap your wrist, arm." I order, applying just a bit more pressure, he squirms, I'm not applying enough pressure to hurt him, just enough to reconsider messing with me.
"Because you'll get arrested?" He suggest, weakly. I laugh bitterly before letting him go and spinning on my heel, stalking off, away from him. He's back on my tail in moments, expectedly, Zach is like a bulldog, once he grabs onto something, he never let's go. He's been like that for as long as I've known him, even when we were little in the sandbox. I've known him for so long; I'd be surprised if there was anything I didn't know about out Zach. Except for the fact, that I loved him much more than he loved me. Those damn tears prick at my eyes again and I blink to try to chase them away. "Wait! Jane, can't we just talk?" He begs, and I hesitate, knowing I can't lead him to my meeting place with Artemis. I spin back and answer honestly.
"No. I never wanted to 'talk about it', hell, I never wanted to see you ever again. I'm only here because I have to be, so there are no unresolved issues we have to deal with, and you can just leave!" I explode, narrowing my eyes at him and praying to Zeus that he'll get the hades away from me.
"I just, I just don't want you to hate me anymore," He explains his eyes softening. "How's your Mom doing?" He wonders, stepping closer to me. Zach doesn't know; Zach doesn't have a clue about my real parentage, or everything that happened after he left.
"Adoptive mother," I correct, watching his face blanch at my tone, "and she died." I hiss, the familiar ache in my heart pulling at my tear ducts. Zach gapes at me, and I feel the steel walls around my heart waver, the pain shaking them to their core. I shake my head and storm away, not able to deal with him any longer.
…
I curl my knees up to my chest, trying to ignore the tears running down my face. Images flashing in front of my eyes, I relived the birth certificate she finally showed me on her death-bed; the day when she told me that the man who raised me wasn't coming home after a car accident, how I wasn't her baby, her explaining that my real mom died in a plane crash, and my real dad was never in the picture. As I wrap my arms around my middle, a sob rips through my chest. The emotional roller coaster of today has been too much for me to take. I'm not the type of girl to sob uncontrollably on a daily basis, but I just can't handle this. Before long, Thalia marches into my tent and crouches down beside me. Her eyes exude that she's strong and powerful, the exact opposite of how I feel right now.
"We all have scars, Jane, some more than others" Watching a lone ant scamper over the tarp, I nod but keep my eyes on the ground. "And the only way to heal is to move on; your one of the strongest people I've ever met: and you will heal." She reminds me, and even though I'm almost positive that she's lying, I nod, sloppily brushing the streams running down my face away. "Get up, we have archery practice, and you need it." She teases, eliciting a tiny laugh from me, as I gracelessly get up, stringing my bow over my shoulder. Closing my eyes, I focus on how the mind numbing sensation of hundreds of archery drills is a painkiller like nothing else.
…
There's the snap of the wire, the whoosh of the arrow and the thud as it hits the target. Where I'm aiming, the bull's eye is about the same diameter of a quarter, microscopic from over fifty feet away. My arrow embeds itself, just centimeters from the tiny dot, anywhere else in the world that would be a remarkable shot. Unfortunately, I'm not a normal girl staying at a summer camp, and as a huntress of Artemis I should make that shot effortlessly. Girls, who have just joined a few days ago, make that shot perfectly.
"Jane, I'd like to discuss developments in the project, with you!" Artemis calls across the empty field and I swallow loudly, hoping I won't have too much trouble explaining that I'm having issues with my ex boyfriend, who still manages to get an emotional rise out of me. Hopeful thinking always prevails, right?