Did he really just do that?
My father had, in fact, just done that. He pulled the god card.
The thought ran through my mind even though Mom and her friends were talking fast-paced all around me.
The fact Dad was gonna mope around for the rest of Mom's life and not do anything about it, until I went and made a move... It was almost like I was the one who gave him permission. The whole thing was so upside-down that part of my mind occupied itself, constructing an adequate callout for when I got him alone.
Would it be smartest to go for the jugular before he could launch a defense, or plan for him to parry with some flimsy justification and trip him into a guilty mire? He would probably still be sulking somewhere or embarrassed that he'd shown off his godliness. Maybe it was better not to completely bash him into the ground when he was already there. I could drag him back by bragging about how great it was to spend time with my mother and then completely demolish him for failing to let us engage sooner.
"What's the face?" Megara asked, yanking me out of my fugue state of battle strategizing.
"The face?" I repeated, putting a hand up to my cheek and tracing my lips. What was I doing? How much was I showing?
"Are you still thinking about your father?" Megara asked, arching a suspicious brow.
Instantly, I blushed at how transparent I was. "My dad…" Yes. I was thinking of my father, but what could I possibly say about him? From my mother's perspective, this was my overprotective loser dad, who—while perhaps attractive to her on the basis of his muscles alone—was also the father of someone in her own generation. There were too many ways for her to shut down any avenue for progress before we could build something.
"What about him?" Irini asked. "I didn't see him. Did he make a scene?"
"A little, but I got outta there before he said anything," Megara said. "He mostly just stood there like a lamp post with his arms folded."
It wasn't the easiest task in the world, but I stopped myself from cackling. "Dad's just a big goof sometimes, and he cares about me. That's all."
"So you don't have daddy issues?" Irini asked.
"Worried she might horn in on your turf?" Dimi teased and made Irini roll her eyes.
"We've all got plenty of issues to go around," Megara said. "We don't need to make life worse for the newcomer just because she hasn't admitted which ones are hers yet. Wait 'til we get her drunk."
The other two laughed, but their hesitant glances reminded me that there was a secondary dialogue beneath their bravado. The group of them had an unsteady comfort with one another. It sparked around them as if ready to lash out and burn anyone who ran afoul of the other two. But there remained an undercurrent of loyalty. Perhaps their harsher edges helped reassure everyone in the group of their own ability to defend themselves, as well as showed the others what they were capable of. It would take more study to understand them, but I could see myself grasping it eventually.
"I'm hoping you don't go throwing yourself at guys because of your issues," Irini said, pretending she was oblivious to Dimi's needling. Her irritation was understated, but I could feel it stirring in the back of my new friend's mind as if it might burst forth at an unexpected time.
"I'm in a long-term relationship," I told Irini, and suddenly felt an undeserved surge of superiority. "He's awesome… a musician. So hot. Never cheated on me and we've been together for so long he's had plenty of chances to. But I know not everyone's as lucky as me. Only I get to have Charis!"
And then there was my mother, who might get a chance to reunite with her past husband, but only if he got out of his stormcloud.
One glance at her, and I knew she was still thinking about his aural projection. His impression on her was deep. She hadn't even engaged in teasing me because she was too focused on thinking of him. While it was complicated seeing my father through her doe eyes, I knew he existed as an entirely foreign concept to the one I had of him as his daughter. His aura lingered around Megara, and she occasionally squeezed both hands around her elbows the way someone might huddle in a shawl while trying to keep warm.
Dad wouldn't stay away for long. He'd need some help directing himself, but she needed him. Nothing could be more obvious. Maybe he was able to figure it out the first time, but he definitely needed assistance this time, or he had no chance whatsoever.
Dimi snapped her fingers in my face. "Hey! Earth to ginger freak!"
I blinked a few times. How long had I zoned out?
Megara pushed Dimi's hand away from my face. "She's not one of us yet. She hasn't had an entryway into the conversation other than getting roasted. Will you please contain your toxic instincts for maybe half an hour?"
Dimi didn't like that, but she turned her irritation inward. Self-awareness. Nice.
"I haven't left home in a long time," I said truthfully to the trio. "I've got a lot on my mind. Sorry if I look like a bit of a freak; that's only temporary."
"I guess the three of us can't really complain about having deep thoughts," Irini sighed. "We didn't see you at orientation, Ginger. Did you really show up there without making new friends?"
Orientation. Everyone who wanted to attend Prometheus Academy had gone there and learned the ropes. I should've been there if I was a mortal student.
"I was sick that day," I shrugged. "My whole family was sick, actually. We were a bit of a disaster."
"Even your father?" Megara asked.
Oh, she wanted to know about my father, huh?
"Yeah," I hung onto the ring that kept me steady on the train and swung back and forth. "He's used to helping everyone all the time, but he doesn't really remember to take care of himself that much. Apparently, my mother used to do that before she died." I had to keep my eyes under control. They might too easily reveal to Megara that I was here for my mother. She wasn't ready for that.
"I'm sorry to hear about that," Megara said. A haze of gray darkness wrapped around her, and she glanced out the train window at the countryside. "Oh, look. Sheep." The cloudy haze vanished, and she sighed. "Well, I guess you're the replacement lady of the house then." She looked me in the eye with genuine sympathy.
"Do you, like, get whatever you want?" Dimi asked.
"My personality gets that done for me," I said, smirking at my mother's friend. She may think I was some innocent dope, but if I really turned my attention to it, I'd make her grovel. I hoped she got a little hint of that behind my smile. "But running things at home with my brothers and my father and my—" husband, "—boyfriend has given me lots of practice. Right now, I'd just like to go with the flow 'cause I'm a little sick of being in charge all the time."
But I could be in charge. And if Dimi wanted to be on my good side, she'd have to stop pushing me.
I thought I saw a hint of trepidation in the other girl's eyes.
She'd earned a smile.
"Nobody's really in charge around here," Megara said. "We're a little democratic, which is great since we're heading to Athens. But sometimes the force of our personalities upsets the balance."
"Don't worry, my mother named me for my ability to keep things smoothed over." I'd leave the matter of my ancestor, the goddess Harmonia, out of the equation. There weren't nearly enough "greats" to back up that side of the story without giving up the game.
"Your dead mother," Dimi reminded me, "she's not around to see."
Megara jabbed her friend in the ribs with a golden pen embossed with a thunderbolt. "You cut it out, or I'm not sharing my schedule with you. In this dorm, we do not comment on each other's dead relatives."
Dimi moved away, rubbing her side irritably. "She's not in our dorm."
"I could be," I said, still grinning at Dimi while more malice seeped into the expression. "If you want, I'll check the names of my dorm mates. It may be a good idea for all of us to get along, don't ya think?"
Megara and Irini both gave me wary expressions. They knew something was boiling, but Dimi wasn't ready to admit she had something to worry about.
So much for the democracy my mother thought ruled the little friend group. Dimi wanted dominance, and I would only give it to her if she stopped being such a bitch.
"We could vote you out," Dimi suggested.
"Realistically, which one of us is more difficult to get along with?" I shot back.
Megara placed a hand on my shoulder and on Dimi's. The electric blast of excitement distracted me from her words at first, but I caught up. "Obviously, Moni is the sort of girl it's better to have in the squad than outside it. She could probably start a cult if we let her wander off on her own."
I had a few shrines in my dad's temples, so her suggestion made me snicker.
"Listen there; she's as Theban as any of us. Let's just relax and look for which club we wanna hit first." Megara squeezed both our shoulders then settled back down in her seat, daintily crossing her legs. She bounced one nervous foot while looking between the three of us to see if we accepted the truce.
"Fine," Dimi grumbled. "But I bet she has nothing to wear to the Plaka."
"What? Ya think I was raised on some farmstead in Arcadia?" I huffed, rolling my eyes. "Give me some credit. I've lived in Thebes all my life. You wanna scare me outta the squad? Try a bit harder, but you've got nothing on me."
"If nothing else, this little power struggle is entertaining," Irini said. "How about we cut it off before it gets out of hand?"
I smirked at Dimi. "You don't have to be scared; we're going to be great friends. Just you wait."