Chapter Three: Awake

Therese reached out to Hip but felt something furry in his place. She opened her eyes. She squinted against the bright sun beaming through her bedroom windows. Her eyes gradually adjusted, and she looked around. Her bed covers were thrown across the wooden floor. She lay in her nightshirt, one sock on, one sock off, holding onto her little smooth fox terrier, Clifford. He licked the tears streaming down her cheeks.

“It happened again,” she told him. “It seemed so real.”

She lay back on her pillow and stared at the ceiling. She noticed a crack that hadn’t been there before.

Ten months and not a word from him.

“Than,” she whispered. “Thanatos,” she said in case his hearing required his full name. “Please do something. Give me a sign you still care about me. I feel so hopeless.”

When, once again, nothing earth-shattering happened, she pulled her covers from the floor and lay back down on her bed beneath them. Why get up? What did she have to live for?

“You’re so lucky, boy,” she said to Clifford. “If only Artemis could have made me immortal when she did it to you. We could be together forever and still have our memories—” Unlike Mom and Dad, she thought, who, because they were dead were forever oblivious to the life they led on earth. They were happy, though, in the Elysian Fields with all of its delusions. It didn’t really sound so bad, and was maybe a better alternative to this emptiness and longing she felt ever since their death last year—an emptiness and longing that only worsened when Than came into, and then out of, her life.

She wondered if it would have been better not to have met him at all. She shuddered at the thought. No, better to be miserable.

Then she wondered for the millionth time if she could have possibly imagined it all: meeting the gods of sleep and death, falling in love, receiving magical gifts from goddesses, taking a ride with Poseidon, fighting the man responsible for her parents’ death on Mount Olympus and then choosing not to kill him, which meant she could not become a god and join Than in the Underworld forever. She had been in the worst state of depression after her parents’ death. Could it have all been a delusion?

No, because of the crown and the robe and the blue dress Aphrodite gave her at the end of the battle on Mount Olympus. Because of the locket from Athena she wore around her neck. They were proof.

Clifford did his I-need-to-go-outside dance, so she climbed from the bed. “Okay, boy. Let’s go.” She tugged off the one sock and skipped down the stairs.

“Good morning, Sleepyhead,” Carol said from the granite countertop where she sipped coffee and read the paper. “It’s almost time for swim practice.”

“I’m not sure I’m going this morning.” She slipped on a pair of flip-flops and then followed Clifford out the back door onto the wooden deck. The screen door slammed shut behind her, so she didn’t hear whatever her aunt said next. “Come on, Clifford. Let’s go for a walk.”

She often walked out in the woods in her nightshirt knowing no one would be around to see her. The Melner Cabin was a half mile away toward the dam (just thinking of last summer’s guests in the Melner Cabin made her moan), and the Holts lived three-quarters of a mile on the other side. She had only the deer, the chipmunks, the birds, and the occasional wild horse to contend with, and these companions she gladly welcomed. Just now two chipmunks scurried away from her, and a red bird fluttered beneath the feeder on one of two great elms. She made her wish and blew five kisses before the cardinal could make its escape. She doubted the wish would come true, but it didn’t hurt to try.

She looked up at the twin elms, which were both healthy now thanks to her uncle, Richard, who had cut off the diseased branch and had treated the roots of both trees to keep the Dutch elm disease away. He and Carol married last Christmas, and in January Richard’s adoption of Therese was finalized. They would now celebrate two birthdays for her: April seventh, the day she was born, and January eighth, the day Richard’s adoption of her was official. She had two legal guardians who loved her and took care of her. She had friends who loved her, too. And Pete. Why couldn’t this be enough?

“Therese?” Carol called from the back door. “Jen’s on her way to pick you up. Better get your suit on.”

Therese groaned. “Come on, Clifford. Let’s go inside.”

Clifford rambled down the trail he and she had made over the years, and together they reentered the house.

“You’ve missed so much practice,” Carol said. “You really need to go today. You’re not sick, are you?” Carol’s straight red hair was pulled up in a high ponytail and rings of mascara had not yet been washed from her face.

Therese shrugged. “I don’t think so. Just tired.”

“You’re a healthy sixteen-year-old. Why are you so tired all the time? Maybe we should go see Dr. Lanford again.”

“I don’t like Dr. Lanford, and I don’t want to go on Prozac again.” The Prozac had interfered with the lucidity of her dreams.

“Maybe a therapist, then. I’ll do some research. Your parents have been gone a year. This isn’t healthy.”

Therese sighed. “I’ll go get ready.”

She trudged up the stairs, with Clifford at her heels. After she changed into her one-piece, she quickly fed and watered her pets. Puffy still didn’t look so good. She suspected he had stayed in his plastic tower all night again. His breathing had been labored for over a week. The vet had said it was time. Four years was a long life for a hamster.

Jewels, her tortoise, had nearly doubled in size since last summer and had required a larger tank. The tank stretched across the expanse of Therese’s desk, which was no loss to Therese since she always did her homework on her bed. She stroked the tortoise’s shell.

She heard the doorbell, so she slipped on some shorts over her suit, grabbed her bag, and skipped downstairs where she slipped her feet into flip-flops.

“Don’t you want some breakfast?” Carol asked.

“Not hungry.”

When she opened the door, she found Pete instead of Jen.

“Hey, Therese,” he said. “Ready?”

“Where’s Jen?”

“In the truck. Hers isn’t running so well, and there’s no way I’m letting her drive my truck.”

“See ya, Carol.” Therese followed Pete through the screened front porch and down the steps to the gravelly drive where Jen sat in Pete’s truck, waiting.

Jen climbed out of the front bench seat so Therese would sit between her and her brother. Therese wished Jen wasn’t pulling so hard for her and Pete to get together—though, in Jen’s mind, they kind of already had. Therese now noticed that Jen had dark rings beneath her eyes, and they weren’t rings of mascara.

“What’s wrong?” Therese asked as Pete backed out of the drive.

“Nothing,” Jen said in a way that wasn’t convincing.

“Dad got drunk last night. Jen didn’t sleep a wink.”

“Oh no.”

“Yeah,” Pete said.

“We don’t have to go to practice,” Therese offered. “Let’s go have breakfast.”

Jen shook her head. “I need the practice. I need to get my mind off everything.”

“His brother died,” Pete explained as he passed Lemon Dam. “He and his brother were close when they were young. Last night was a one-time thing.” Then he added, “We hope.”

Jen shuddered and Therese could see without looking directly at her that she had started to cry.

“Change the subject,” Jen choked out.

Pete and Therese spoke at the same time. Therese said, “How’s Matthew?” and Pete said something about his band.

“Go ahead,” Pete said.

“No, you go,” Therese said.

“Okay. My band is playing in a festival at Pagosa Springs this Saturday night. My whole family is going, I think. I’d love it if you’d come, too.”

“Sounds like fun. I’ll ask my aunt.” She turned to Jen. “Is Matthew going?”

“I think so. Todd and Ray, too.”

“Todd and Ray? I haven’t seen them since school let out.”

“You could ask Vicki, too, if you want,” Jen added.

Therese nodded. “Yeah. I should, shouldn’t I?”

“It’s up to you,” Jen replied. “Your call.”

Vicki had come to Durango High School half way through their freshman year and had stuck to Therese like glue. She had mousy brown hair and a face that reminded Therese of a Who from Whoville. Therese had tried to be friendly but had felt suffocated by the neediness of the new girl, until the terrible thing happened at the end of the summer: Vicki’s mother committed suicide. Therese had made it her mission to get closer to Vicki, and what had started off as charity had gradually grown into a friendship, though still less than equal. Vicki needed Therese and depended on her much more than Therese did Vicki.

“She’s coming to the meet,” Therese said. “She’s coming to support us. She knows how badly I want to beat Lacey Holzmann at breaststroke.”

“You should invite her,” Pete said. “She’s a nice girl.”

“Yeah. If my aunt says I can go, I’ll give Vicki a ring tonight.”

Pete patted Therese’s thigh. “Good call.”

A slight tingle pulsed up her leg. Pete’s strong hand felt good, and despite her nightly rants to Than, Than hadn’t contacted her in over ten months. She smiled up at Pete.

“It’s not like you’re inviting her to prom.” Pete laughed.

Prom. She hadn’t thought about that, but her junior prom would be coming up this school year in the spring. She knew Pete would go with her if she asked. Should she? Should she really give up on Than?

In fact, Therese couldn’t help but suspect Pete had decided not to go to college so he could remain close to her. If Cupid hadn’t shot his arrow in Pete’s heart, he might be at Colorado State right now. However, Hip did say the arrow only made stronger a feeling already present. How much of Pete’s affection for her was real? And if much of it was because of the interference of the gods, did she owe it to Pete to give in to his desires?

Pete pulled into the Durango High Natatorium where a bunch of other cars were already parked. “I’m gonna run some errands. When do I need to be back?”

“Eleven,” Jen said as she climbed from the seat. “But it’s no big deal if you run late. We can grab a bite at the Subway next door while we wait.”

“I’ll just meet y’all at Subway, then,” Pete said.

Therese climbed from the seat and said thanks before closing Pete’s truck door. Gina Rizzo was climbing from her Mustang convertible at the same time. Her hair was wrapped into a pretty, neat bun at the nape of her neck, blonde ringlets here and there near her face. Even without makeup, Gina was beautiful—until she spoke. Therese lowered her eyes to avoid her, but it was too late. Gina had seen her and had now caught up to her and Jen.

“Hey, Therese. Hey Jen,” she said in a friendly voice. “I heard Lacey’s breaststroke has improved by over two seconds since last year. Her cousin is friends with my little sister, you know.”

“That’s great,” Jen said. “Lacey will need those seconds if she wants to come in second to Therese.”

Therese gave Jen a grateful glance behind Gina’s back.

“Dream on,” Gina said in her snotty voice.

They went through the glass doors and into the humid building. Gina skipped ahead of them to avoid whatever Jen would say next.

“Chicken shit,” Jen muttered.

When they were away from the other teammates in the locker room putting their things in their lockers before practice, Jen said, “Speaking of prom, Matthew and I are definitely going. I haven’t gone shopping for the dress, but I’ve already found the shoes. They’re to die for. You are going to ask Pete, aren’t you?”

“Jen, it’s months away. I haven’t given it much thought.”

“Well, start giving it some. You can’t start shopping too soon.”

“Some tomboy you turned out to be.”

“Just ‘cause I’m good on a horse doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate pretty stiletto heels.”

Therese grabbed her towel from her bag and shut her locker door. “Can you even walk in them?”

“I’ve been practicing.”

Therese smiled at the image and wondered if Jen wore the invisibility crown while she practiced so no one would laugh at her. It had to be funny.

They left the locker room together and went to the poolside, where their coach had gathered the rest of their team. Paul caught Therese’s eye and licked his lips in an attempt to be sexy. She shuddered. When would he ever get a clue?

Therese was relieved Jen hadn’t asked again about Than. For months, she’d say, “Any word from Than?” and Therese’s face would turn the color of tomato soup, she’d stop breathing, and she’d nearly faint. She was glad not to have to admit she still hadn’t heard anything from the supposed love of her life. She had wanted to lie to her best friend and say, yes, we email all the time, or, I got a letter this afternoon, or, he texted me from Texas yesterday. But she knew her friend would see right through her and know the truth.

The water actually felt good as she warmed up with freestyle. She hadn’t come all week—it was Thursday—and she had forgotten how therapeutic it could be. After two laps of freestyle, she switched to back, and then fly, saving her favorite stroke for last. As she swam, she thought of Poseidon’s appearance in her dream. It hadn’t really been Poseidon, but still, she thought of him. She recalled the ride he had given her on his dolphin, Arion, last summer when he had reluctantly taken her as his prisoner, and then after, on his really cool chariot. “Oh, Poseidon,” she prayed silently. “Why won’t Thanatos come for me? Should I just go on with my life?”

As if in answer, when she reached the edge of the pool at the end of her twenty-minute warm up and looked up, she saw Pete gazing down at her. “I finished early and thought I’d hang out.” He left the poolside and walked over to the stands a few yards away. He looked good in his jeans. He glanced back and caught her watching. She blushed and turned away, but not before catching his wink.

Luckily, the coach called everyone over and lined them up for drills, and she no longer had the luxury—or curse—of thinking.