"Are you lost?" It's the only explanation for what I'm seeing on my doorstep. First Phoebus and now her?
I eye the teenage girl in front of me with heavy distaste. There are many things about her appearance that I could handle separately, but together, it it's just too much for me.
The right side of her head is shaved, the left side pulled into a ponytail. Her jeans look like Swiss cheese and she has piercings on every possible surface. Where she doesn't have piercings, she has tattoos. And spikes. Lots of spikes.
Is this what they call punk these days?
Before she can say anything, I blurt out, "You do know that colors besides black exist, right?"
She scowls at me and says, "I'm not like the other girls. Don't you dare," she adds when I make to close the door.
"Who are you and why the fuck are you here?"
"I want to see my brother."
No. It couldn't be. "Artemis?" I say incredulously. "Fuck off. I don't know where he is."
I've never met any gods besides Phoebus and Hades, but from the expression he has when he talks about them, I didn't think I would want to. At least past me was right about something.
"I have a right to know where my own brother is."
"And I have the right to not let some goddess off her rocker into my apartment."
She puts her hand on her hips, pouting like a child who didn't get their candy. I have a hard time believing that this girl who looks younger than I do is really immortal. Can she really have been alive during the time of Alexander the Great?
"Fine. I don't care. Just tell me where he is."
Indignation bubbles to the surface. "Why the fuck do you think I of all people know where he is? I'm a mortal, remember?"
She scoffs at me like I just said something irredeemably stupid. I have to admit, getting scoffed at by a teenager who goes up to my chin is rather unsettling.
"Of course you would know where he is. It's him and it's you."
If only you knew I think. The solar system is heliocentric, not geocentric. Everything revolves around the sun, not the Earth.
"Have a nice existence," I say, closing the door despite her protests.
"You know," I say, turning back into the living room. Phoebus just appears, almost like he's stepping out of the ray of sunlight coming from the window. "Of all the forms you could've gotten, boy band isn't too bad."
He laughs, lighting up the room with his smile. What I wouldn't give to watch him laugh over and over without the worry that he'd realize the feelings I have.
Because if he did, would he leave me forever?
Or would he keep me around like some kind of toy to be amused by?
"Definitely," he says, still smiling at me affably. The kind of smile that you keep in your memory for reminiscing. "I hope you never to see some of the others. If I was trapped in the forms some of them are trapped in, maybe I would want to-" He trails off.
I don't push him, knowing that if he doesn't want to tell me something, he never will.
"Doesn't your class start at two?" Phoebus asks as I prepare to leave, glad for the break from studying and from him.
I mutter a few choice words in Indonesian before I turn and say, "I'm going to the grocery store."
"Don't we have enough groceries?"
There is that word. We. Almost as if we are a unit. Almost as if he wasn't going to leave me as soon as he stops needing to hide from whatever he's hiding from.
"I'm going to buy watercress since you're so insistent on feeding both your swan and human forms." I sling my bag over my shoulder. "Don't burn the apartment down."
He looks startled, blue eyes wide with surprise. "You remember that I like watercress?"
"It is pretty stupid, so yes."
"I can't let you do that for me."
I snort and say, "Yeah, whatever. I'm doing it so you won't complain about it when your swan form inevitably gets hungry - which, by the way, makes absolutely zero sense."
"I'm coming with you then," he says, finally pulling a white shirt on. I don't protest because deep down, I want every moment with him that I can have before he leaves. "Aren't you going to take your keys?" His eyes widen and he says, "Oh shit I'm sorry, El, that was so insensitive."
I bite my lip and look away, but my hand shakes as it brushes away a strand of hair. Without checking if he's following me, I leave, letting the door slam shut behind me.
He catches up to me easily as I descend the stairs, our arms barely brushing against each other. "I meant what I said. I'm really sorry."
"You don't need to apologize again. Besides, you're the one who helped me get closure on that one."
He exhales. "Right. We can drive my car, if you want."
"You have a car?"
"Well, yes. How do you think I got here?"
"Can't you do that light walking thing?"
We walk the remaining steps in an amiable silence, each absorbed in our own thoughts.
When we reach the parking garage, I'm not surprised when he leads me to a sleek black Tesla. He was always a fan of luxury.
I get into the passenger seat. The interior smells like him. It reminds me of herbs like basil, and it's what I smell on the rare occasion I have pleasant dreams.
"If you're too nervous, you can hold my hand," he says, brow furrowing when he sees how tightly I grip the armrest of the seat, my knuckles turning white.
"Fuck off," I mutter as I sink down into the seat. I usually use the bus, but it's impossible to avoid cars in this country so I just swallow my rather rational phobia.
But when the car starts to move, I grab his hand and entwine my fingers with his, my hand tiny in his. After all these four years, his touch still comforts me. The warmth emanating from his skin is familiar, so much so that I just want to close my eyes and breath in his scent and pretend that it's just like old times again.
A small smile plays at the corner of his mouth, but he doesn't say anything, just wraps his fingers around my hand.
"How did you get the money for an apartment?" His tone has no sign of condescension, just curiosity.
I shrug. "I have an aunt on my father's side apparently who felt guilty that she abandoned me to my piece of horseshit of a stepmother."
"You could have asked me for money, you know. I would have given you however much you needed."
"I didn't even have any way to contact you." Perhaps it was for the better. I might have gotten drunk and called him in the middle of the night and confessed everything and then where would we be?
"And whose fault is that?"
So we are back to this. It seems to be an obstacle that we would never be able to move away from, mostly because it was such a shitty move on my part.
"El," he says quietly after a period of silence. "Do you still have the ring I gave you?"
"I probably have it lying around somewhere," I say, trying to disguise the fact that it's resting against my heart at the moment.
Judging from the small smile playing on his lips, he doesn't believe me and I curse him for being the god of truth. "Well, the stone is actually a sending stone. If you wear it and press it over your heart, you can actually communicate telepathically with me."
I remember when he had first given the ring to me. I had taken one look at the golden topaz, held in place by snaking silver strands, and said no, absolutely not. But he had been insistent, and I guess I have an explanation for why now.
I feel my stomach lurch as we round a particularly sharp curve and I have to remind myself that Phoebus has never gone above the speed limit. Even the first time we met, even before he knew what happened, he had been cautious when driving with me.
"Wait," I say as he pulls into a parking space. Neither of us make a move to disentangle our fingers, although I'm sure that I've restricted his blood flow already. When he turns to look at me, I say, "You can't come in. The tabloids are all over your disappearance."
"You've checked for my name in the tabloids?"
Realizing that I've made a mistake, I turn red and let of his hand. My hand feels empty without his. "Stop grinning like that, you piece of no good-"
"Now, now. Fog of Gods is a thing, remember? I'll just alter my appearance."
I had forgotten about Fog of Gods. It is a glamour to shield gods from mortal eyes, but it doesn't work on those with any kind of immortal blood in their veins.
"Sure." I shrug. "But for the love of Ares's single ballsack, don't do a man again. I don't think I can handle people pointing at the girl with the old creepy looking buy."
He nods, smiling and briefly closes his eyes. When he opens them again, something about him feels different and I know it's the Fog of Gods coming into play.
"This much Nutella?" he asks dubiously as I throw three giant jars of Nutella into the cart already brimming with watercress. "I know you used to eat it by the spoonful, but don't you already have a secret stash somewhere?"
I scowl at the fact that he knows enough about me to know about the secret stash in the closet. "I think you gods really fucked up by drinking nectar and not Nutella. Maybe you guys wouldn't be so angsty if you ate proper food of the gods."
Something hits me forcefully and I stumble forward a few steps until Phoebus pulls me up, and I can feel every hard plane of his body against mine.
I disentangle myself quickly and hear a voice say, "Well, if it isn't Adeline. Is this a friend?"
I turn slowly, wincing at Cara's cruel face sneering at me. For once, she's alone, but her friends are probably around the corner. Cara's one of those people who can't stand to be alone.
Ignoring Phoebus's curious look, I say warily, "Cara, hi."
"Is this the great valedictorian premed student Adeline Susanto performing mundane tasks like grocery shopping? When did you stoop so low to the rest of us?"
I suppose Phoebus expected a fuck you from me, and if I were strong, I would have said it. But the harsh words are reserved for those I'm comfortable with(and deities, apparently); they're not meant to hurt.
Instead, I just say, "Could you stop?" I cringe at how passive I sound.
A cruel smiles flips across her flaming red lips and she says, "No, I don't think I will. Especially since it's so funny."
"I don't think it's funny," Phoebus says mildly, but his eyes are oddly furious. "In fact, I think you should leave her alone."
"You can't even defend yourself? Why is it always Levi or now this girl defending you?" Cara laughs and walks away.
I keep my eyes on the ground, ashamed of my weakness, my inability to throw barbed insults when it really matters. When he places his hand over mine, I don't brush it off.
"What was that?" His tone is so gentle that it almost breaks me.
"I don't have many friends. I don't have any, really. And Cara's always been trying to get into Levi's pants, so she uses that fact against me every chance she can get. It's...whatever."
It's not technically a lie - she hates me partially because of my connection to Levi, but that's not the only reason.
It's because we were best friends, and she called dibs on Levi, but he never showed interest. And so on some psychological level, maybe I can't fight back because I think I deserve the pain for being such a shitty person.
"It's not whatever, El. Why do you let them do that to you?"
Because that's what I've been doing all my life.
"Just drop it, Phoebus. I'm sure you have bigger problems than some little mortal girl's petty squabbles." I don't wait for a reply before walking off.