Chatper 15
"What do you think?" Teresa asked, spinning in the coral colored gown. It had a vintage look to it, capped sleeves and form-fitting, but somehow she loved it. Especially the rhinestones that glittered down the front.
Atlanta was sitting on the cushioned waiting bench that spanned the center of the dressing room lobby. Her own prom attire, an actual vintage teal dress, was already purchased from three stores ago and in the bag on her arm. She titled her head to the side as she regarded the dress then smirked. "Very nice," she said. "I think Jay's face'll match the color very well."
Teresa felt her own face heat up. "Atlanta!"
Her closest teammate just laughed and shook her head. "Sorry, you set yourself up for that one," she said. "But, really, it's very nice."
"You think so?" Teresa asked, turning this way and that to see every angle she could manage in the mirror.
"It's better than the last four you tried on," Atlanta said, rolling her eyes.
Teresa made a face at her. "Alright," she said, quickly disappearing back into the dressing stall. "One more, then we can go for accessories."
Atlanta flopped backward, sprawling across the bench and hanging her head over the other side. "Yay," she said blandly. "I'm jumping for joy."
"Oh, c'mon, Atlanta," Teresa's voice groaned. "How can you not be excited?"
"How can you be? Seriously, what's the big deal?" Atlanta countered. "It's just a dance."
"Just a dance?" Teresa yelped, sticking her head back through the curtain to make sure her friend hadn't grown an extra head. "It's not just a dance-it's the dance! Something that everyone will always remember."
"Right. Which is why I still think it'd be funny to show up in my field hockey uniform," Atlanta jeered as Teresa disappeared again. "At least I know no one else would be wearing it."
Teresa let out an irritated groan of defeat, at this point giving up was probably worth it. So she focused on zipping herself into the last of the gowns she'd picked out then rejoined Atlanta, going to the triple mirror at the end of the room.
"Well?" she asked.
Atlanta lifted her head to glance down the bench and raised an eyebrow. "You look like a gothic Ballerina," she said, letting her view of the world return to upside-down.
Teresa stared at her own reflection for a second as she considered Atlanta's comment, then burst out laughing. Atlanta grinned at her, looking incredibly peculiar in the reflection, and Teresa shook her head.
"Alright," she said, turning back toward the stall. "I think the Mode one wins."
"The what?" Atlanta asked, forcing herself to sit up again.
"The coral one," Teresa said, pulling the hanger from the wall hook to dangle the gown out the curtained door.
"Ooh," Atlanta said, taking the cue to hold the dress for her.
Soon Teresa appeared again, with the other gowns and her shopping bags in hand. Then she led the way out, stopping to deposit the losing gowns onto the return rack before taking the coral gown from Atlanta and going to the register.
"Glad that's over," Atlanta commented, leaning against the check-out counter.
"You can gripe and groan all you want," Teresa informed her, "but you'll thank me once prom gets here."
Atlanta gave her a smirk, then turned thoughtful. "Its only in three weeks, right?"
"Three and a half," Teresa corrected, giving the sales girl a smile of thanks as she took the gown bag. "But yeah, why?"
"Do you think Harper'll still be here?" Atlanta asked as she followed her out into the mall, which nearly made her collide with the taller girl as she stopped short.
Teresa turned to her with an expression Atlanta had seen before—yesterday when she'd been what she now considered stupid enough to mention the words "prom gowns" and "shopping" in front of her teammate. Somehow, this didn't bode well.
"What?" Atlanta asked warily.
"Nothing," Teresa said innocently.
"Yeah, right," Atlanta said, rolling her eyes. "I know that look. What are you planning?"
"Just that maybe we should go shopping again tomorrow," Teresa said, adjusting her bags.
"Really," Atlanta said, eyeing her suspiciously.
"It'd be a great way for us girls to bond," Teresa continued. "Plus, like you said, if she does stay—she'll need a prom dress."
"'s not exactly what I said," Atlanta pointed out, but she couldn't help smiling, ignoring the fact that a tall guy in shades was walking straight for them. "Well, it sounds like a good plan of attack. Maybe she'll actually talk to us about what to do with the stones—Oof! Hey!"
The force of the guy crashing into her shoulder knocked the bag holding her prom dress to the ground, but he was quick to dive after it. "Whoops," he said, gathering the handles and holding it out to her. "Sorry about that. Nothing breakable right?"
"Uh, nope, just a dress," Atlanta said, blushing as she looked up. Teresa was all but staring.
He must have been a model or an actor or something, because he knew just how to smile at their reddening faces from behind his dark razor shades. He was tall, but even with that green and black jacket on they could tell he probably had perfectly toned muscles under the slate grey shirt. Even his hair seemed perfect—a reddish-brown that had enough of a wave to carry some of it over his right eyebrow and still look cool.
Atlanta blinked as he said something. "Huh?"
"Prom stuff, right?" he asked, smirking. "My girlfriend's been plotting it out for years."
Figures, Atlanta thought, then looked him over again. "Wait. You go to our school?"
His smirk broadened teasingly. "There are four private academies, six trade, four prep, and two public high schools in this city," he said with a slight shrug. "But, yes, I go to your school."
Teresa and Atlanta blinked at him, then exchanged glances. "How did—?"
In the seconds it had taken them to look back, the guy was gone. They glanced at each other again before looking up and down the busy mall walkways.
"Hey!" Atlanta shouted, spotting a green and black jacket easily vanishing into a throng of shoppers.
Teresa grabbed her shoulder before the girl could bolt after him. "There's no way we'll be able to catch him," she said, looking disappointedly towards the crowd. "We'll just have to hunt him down at school."
"Right, with no name, age, or even knowing what he looks like without sunglasses," Atlanta said, narrowing her eyes as she gave the crowd one last searching sweep before falling instep with Teresa. "Yeah, that'll be easy."
"So we'll bring Neil," Teresa said with a shrug and a smile. If nothing else, at least the kid was a lucky charm of sorts.
Atlanta snorted a laugh and shook her head.
"You know, he kinda looked familiar, though," Teresa said slowly as they entered an accessory store. She glanced back for one more attempt at seeing the stranger, but her attention was quickly diverted by Atlanta happily modeling a large feathery hat, causing both girls to burst out laughing.
...
"Oh, Herry, dear! Would you come here for a moment?"
"Huh?" He'd just been leaving a session with Hercules when the slightly shrill voice cut into his thoughts of what to have for lunch. Looking up he found himself the focus of not one, but two goddesses' attention. Athena and Aphrodite, polar opposite in nearly everything, were both smiling at him from the door way to Aphrodite's salon. Though Athena didn't look as patient as her sister.
The love goddess motioned towards the interior of her salon. "Would you mind trying our lemonade for me?" she asked sweetly. "I think it needs more sugar, Athena thinks its too sweet—we could really use another opinion!"
Herry gave them a strange look. Since when did a god take a mortal's opinion. But, hey, it was free lemonade! He shrugged. "Sure, why not."
Both smiles brightened and he was quickly ushered inside the overly frilly room. Like every other time he'd been in here, Herry found the feeling the room gave off a mixture of dizzying, nauseating, and unnerving euphoria. It kinda just resulted in him feeling like he either should go visit the boys' room or take a nap on the over stuffed futon to shake it off.
The lemonade in question was set up on the low round table in the middle of the floor, a large glass pitcher full of the neon yellow liquid surrounded by a set of six spotlessly clean glass cups.
Aphrodite motioned cheerfully for him to sit down as he dropped his duffel bag, at which point Herry was pretty sure her pillows had come alive and swallowed him for a moment until he fought his way back to the edge of the futon. The two goddesses sat across from him, Athena watching as her sister poured him a glassful of the summertime drink.
"Here you go," she said, her voice sounding like honey as she plopped the cup in front of him.
Herry glanced between the two goddesses again with a suspicious gaze as something nagged at the back of his brain. Something wasn't right. Since when did the goddess of love and the goddess of warcraft drink lemonade together? The phrase "all's fair in love and war" came to mind as he raised the glass to his lips, though he couldn't place why.
It was after the first gulp that he noticed what was wrong. The pitcher had been full of lemonade—not even a inch down from the lip of the pitcher—and all of the glasses had been clean. What were they playing at?
All questions evaporated within seconds of the sweet and sour drink coated his tastebuds and moments later he'd drained the cup.
The goddesses watched him closely, their inquisitive gaze probably could have bored holes into his head if they tried a little harder.
"Well?" Athena asked finally. "What do you say?"
"Huh?" Herry blinked at them, then down at the glass. "Oh, uh... I dunno."
"Oh, here, then," Aphrodite said quickly, snatching the glass from his hand and refilling it. "Have another glass before you decide."
"Mmkay." The idea sounded great to him, though he hadn't thought of asking for more. The yellow had darkened a little, so it looked more like it had some orange to it too. It kinda reminded him of Harper's hair, actually.
That glass was gone just as quickly, with the thought that maybe he should have saved some to compare to Harper's hair later. His glass was refilled again and the goddess sisters stared at him with wide eyes, occasionally glancing at each other to share their shock.
"Hmmm." Herry looked closely at the liquid of his fifth round. "Was this pink before?"
"Uh, Herry, honey," Aphrodite said, moving his hand and the glass away from his face so she could look at him. "What do you think?"
"I think it's pink," he answered.
Athena groaned into her hand as she rubbed her eyes then pinched the bridge of her nose.
"Not the color, sweetie," Aphrodite said, casting a withering look at her sister.
"Oh right, the sugar," he said, remembering why he'd been lured in here. He scrunched his lips to one side as he thought, staring down at the strangely dark pink liquid. If it got a little darker it would look like Harper's favorite color. "Um... I think it's good," he said finally. "Not very sugary, but if you add any you might ruin the flavor."
The goddesses were staring at him like he'd grown an extra head, but Herry barely noticed. He was too busy smiling at the glass of lemonade, which was heading closer and closer to that strange shade of purple that Harper liked to wear.
"Are we gonna have this tonight with dinner?" Herry asked, looking up at Athena.
She blinked at him, her sharp cheekbones gaining a faint pinkish color. "Uh, no, probably not."
"Oh." Herry looked down at the glass again. "Can I bring this glass with me, then?"
"Uh, sure thing, sweetie," Aphrodite said, trying to cover her confusion. "But, uh, why?"
"I want to show Harper," Herry said, grinning as he took the glass and shouldered his duffel. "I bet she'll love how it changes color."
Then he happily went out the door, gazing at the glass all the while.
As the door swung closed again behind him, the two goddesses looked at each other.
"That's not going to harm him, right?" Athena asked. "Not make him do something stupid? I mean, he did drink alot of it."
"Of course not!" Aphrodite assured her in a pitch far to high for normal voices as she picked up the nearly empty pitcher. "Though, I have to admit, I've never seen anyone drink so much elixir before!"
"I hope this works," Athena said, looking back at the door.
"You're the goddess of war making a strategical play—of course it'll work!" Aphrodite said, bottling the remaining lemonade and locking it away in her boudoir. "Its just a question of how strongly..."
A/N: Mwahahahaha! They do say all is fair in Love and War... :D