Season's Change: Summer: A Goddess Legacy Companion Novel (Goddess Legacy 1.5) (6 page)

"Ugh. Melissa told me something similar last week," I mumbled. "Melissa?"

"My guardian. It's a long story. One I'd be happy to tell you all about
after
you tell me what you know."

Chrys took a deep breath and pushed his plate away.. "Okay, what do you know about Greek Mythology?"

Huh? Where was he going with this? "Not much."

"My family came over from Greece, and we still have many connections. My dad spends a lot of time over there."

"I heard about that."

"This is going to sound crazy, but the story is my family descends from the Greek gods." Chrys put his elbow on the table and let his head fall into his hand, covering his eyes.

not."

"I see."

"No, you don't. The thing is we have certain
abilities
that the average person does

"Abilities?"

"Yes. They seem to be linked to puberty or adolescence and manifest to a

complete state by one's eighteenth birthday."

Eighteenth birthday? Was that a coincidence? I felt my face turn white and my breathing accelerate. He heard the change in my breathing and glanced up.

"Don't worry . . . It's nothing too scary." The corner of his mouth lifted in a sad smile, but he misunderstood my expression.

I was starting to feel a little queasy, so I pushed my plate away and looked at

him.

"What do you mean exactly by
abilities?
"

"I'm not sure." He shrugged as he took a drink. "I don't turn eighteen until the fall, so I can't speak from personal experience. But if you research Greek Mythology, you can read about the abilities of those gods, or mythical figures, and get a pretty good idea of some of those abilities."

"What does this have to do with my mother?"

"I saw her in Greece when I was there last year. I didn't speak to her, but she was visiting my dad."

My brain was churning. Chrys saw my mom? Just last year? In Greece?

He put his hands in his lap and leaned closer to me like he'd done before the waitress had delivered our food. He cocked his head to the side and stared at me.

"I heard my dad tell her not to worry . . . that he'd take care of it . . . I don't know what they were talking about, but she seemed relieved by his support."

I stared at him in total shock, and he could see the questions still burning through me. I was determined to get as much information as I could, so I figured I needed to tell him what I knew. Maybe something I said would trigger his memory, and he could complete this puzzle. And so I told him everything. As soon as I mentioned my eighteenth birthday, Chrys's expression morphed from a state of interest to a state of shock.

"That's not all. I found a death certificate."

I looked down and shook my head at the strangeness of the whole situation and struggled to find the right words to explain that certificate. But I didn't have to struggle long.

"It was yours, wasn't it?" he asked, so matter-of-factly. My head flew up to meet his gaze.

"Yes, it was. How do you know that?"

"Because my mom has one for me dated for October 15th."

Reality hit me, and I coiled like it had physically punched me in the stomach. "That's your eighteenth birthday, isn't it?" I could hardly believe what I was saying. My body felt numb, but as I stared at Chrys, his body seemed to relax.

"Yes."

"Is that all you have to say about it?"

"No, but I think I should take you home now." His mood seemed to shift before my eyes again. Just as quickly as his shocked body started to relax, his relaxed façade transformed to one of . . . concern . . . if I was reading him, correctly.

"Are you going to tell me more about you?" "In time. I think I've said enough for one night."

"Don't be ridiculous! You've only scratched the surface!" A desperate kid begging for answers was not how I wanted to come across as in that moment. Unfortunately, that was exactly how I sounded.

"Look, Season, when I told you earlier that I knew a lot, I was right. I do know everything about
me
, which apparently involves your mother on some level. I didn't understand everything about you, and I still don't. But even comprehending what little knowledge I had about you, that didn't prepare me for how you fit into all this. I realize now that I know much more than I thought I did, and I'm not ready to tell you."

"That's not fair!" I exploded and then peered around the restaurant to make sure no one had heard me.

"I didn't say I wasn't going to tell you. I just think this is something that's going to have to come out in stages, and of course, we'll have to be discrete, and you'll have to watch your back."

"Why?"

"It's too complicated to explain now, but long story short, you're being watched." I stared at him incredulously, unable to speak.

"And while I'm giving you warnings, stay away from my mother. She's evil."

A
s the days passed
, Chrys and I didn't talk about what happened. His mom kept him busy at work. Almost too busy. I figured I was just being paranoid. I really didn't know what to make of what he said about her being
evil
. I remembered how she reacted to me that day in the basement and figured that maybe Chrys's comment was loosely related to her overprotecting nature. Any teenage boy with an overprotecting mom probably viewed her as evil—it was all relative.

I'd also been staying over at Chloe's as planned. Even though I failed to get the goods on Chrys for her, I did tell her about my conversation with him on our non-date. Except for the stuff on Greek Mythology, which felt too private. Or maybe it was just too weird to comprehend, much less discuss, even with my best friend. But I did discuss my dreams with her. Since my non-date with Chrys, I'd had another tornado dream. It was similar to the previous one, but there were a few changes.

Instead of a forest, there were two fields. I didn't see the tornado, but I knew it was coming for me. I had dropped my car keys in one of the fields and bent down to pick them up. As I hunched over, I noticed my keys had landed in the middle of three huge snake holes. Frightened, I ran for my car, without the keys. The blond girl from my last dream was sitting in the passenger seat. Her eyes opened wide—scary wide— as she screamed for me to go back and get the keys. I turned and ran into the field where my keys were. But as soon as my feet touched the grass, I'd woken up. Chloe and I had talked about what I'd seen, but none of it made any more sense than it had in my first dream.

By Thursday night, I was near to bursting with excitement about my date with Don, and Chloe was living vicariously through my excitement.

"So where do you think he'll take you?" "I have no idea, but I really don't care!"

We both laughed, and she flashed a wicked look at me.

"Hmmm, do you think he'll kiss you?" She was barely able to ask without giggling.

"I don't know. I think it's too soon for that. After all, this is just our first date. But what do you think I should do if Don doesn't kiss me tomorrow or ask me out on a second date?"

Chloe looked at me and appraised my expression before responding. "I don't think you have anything to worry about."

"But let's say neither of those two things happens. Should I call him? If so, when?

I mean, how soon is too soon to call a guy after a date?

"Season, this isn't the twentieth century. If you want to call him afterward, you should call him. You
did
grow up with him. It's not like he's some new guy you hardly know."

She was right. Don and I had been friends since we were little. I remembered playing games with him on the playground in elementary school, hanging out with him and his friends at the skating rink in middle school, and watching him play sports and grow into a very attractive man in high school. His flawless features were devastatingly beautiful. But his beauty wasn't just skin deep. He was a beautiful person through and through.

"True. I'm just not sure how I feel about that, regardless of how long I've known

him."

"Just play it by ear. If you two have fun, but he doesn't ask you out, then I see no

reason not to call him. Maybe he won't ask you out on a second date right away, regardless of how well tomorrow night goes. He might not want to scare you off." She giggled.

"I guess you're right."

Chloe glanced out her window. "So . . . what do you think Chrys is doing tonight?"

"Um, I don't know. The store is closed by now, so he might be home." "Do you want to go for a walk?" She looked at me with hopeful eyes. "Sure." I smiled.

Chloe freshened up, fixing her makeup, spraying on her French perfume. Within minutes we were strolling down the street.

"I hope the weather will be this nice tomorrow. You don't want frizzy hair on your date, Season. It has been unseasonably cool these last few days."

And she was right, it had been unseasonably cool. Normally, this time of year was fraught with hot, sticky days, temperatures well above ninety, but we had barely broken eighty with the air dry, not thick with heavy moisture, like normal.

We were off Chloe's property and nearing Chrys' house. It wasn't as grand as Chloe's was; it had a more modern flare. In fact, it almost had an institutional look to it. The gray color tones gave it a cold appearance, and the straight lines of the design were too severe. Even the fence and gate resembled bars in a jail cell, rather than an elegant addition to a private estate. But I guessed it went with the décor.

"You see that silver Mercedes?" "Yeah."

"That's Chrys's car." "No way!

I laughed, and we slowed our pace. I felt a little weird spying on his house—I'd never even done that to Don—so I looked down, watching my feet.

"There's his mother," she whispered, and my head shot up.

Ms. Gorge was glaring right at us. I probably should've told Chloe everything Chrys had said and not have sugarcoated the weird Greek stuff. We both smiled and waved at her like friendly neighbors would do, and her glare softened. She turned and went into the house.

"That was weird," Chloe said with a shrug.

I glanced away, acting uninterested, but she wasn't fooled. She stopped walking when we were right in front of Chrys's house. She leaned her head forward and turned to me, but she didn't get a chance to say anything. The gate to the Gorge estate opened.

We turned around to see Chrys walking toward us.

"Keep your cool," I whispered to Chloe while we were still out of earshot.

Chloe took a deep breath as he approached.

"Hey, what are you two doing out here?" Chrys asked when he reached us. "Getting some fresh air," I answered, not waiting on Chloe, fearing she'd act like

she did the first time she spoke to him.

"What about you?" Chloe asked without skipping a beat, this time. "Getting some fresh air," Chrys said with a half-smile, watching both of us.

"Are you working tomorrow?" I asked Chrys, hoping this conversation would not deviate to that uncomfortable topic about borrowing a cup of
sugar
like the first time.

"Yes, I'll be manning the store. My mom has to go to the east regional office tomorrow. She flies out first thing in the morning."

"Chrys!" Ms. Gorge called from the front door.

"Sorry, I have to go. She needs help gathering the documents for her trip." "I'll see you tomorrow," I said.

He smiled and nodded. His eyes lingered on mine. "'Bye," Chloe said softly.

He flashed a brilliant smile at her as he turned to walk through the gate. "See you later," he finally responded over his shoulder before heading back.

Chloe and I kept walking in the same direction until we came upon the pond in the undeveloped area, and then we turned around. I was glad she didn't head straight home after running into Chrys. That would've been too obvious. At least now, she had the added benefit of walking by his house again. But he didn't come out again.

That night it was so cool that we slept with the windows open in her room. I had another dream, but instead of being strictly about a tornado, it was about the weather in general. I knew a tornado was coming, but as soon as I realized I needed to take cover, the sky turned a vivid pink color. So pink, it was blinding. Without the warning of thunder, lightning fell from the sky, but this was no ordinary lightning. Instead of flashing forcefully with an electrical fervor, it glittered and fell like confetti,

disappearing before it reached me. This time the strange, little girl did not make an appearance. But I was not alone.

As I took cover from the peculiar lightning, Don sat at a patio table under a side porch of a traditional house. I didn't recognize the house, but it was pretty. It looked like a newer house but built with the ambiance of yesteryear. It wasn't the house that stood out, though. The most intriguing aspect of this vision was Don.

Without getting up, he watched me approach. Once I was at the table, he handed me a brooch. It resembled one of those pieces of jewelry I found in Melissa's room, old and very ornate. There wasn't a special design, except it had the numbers 1887 painted in the center of the enamel.

"Be careful," he whispered with a protective look in his eyes. Then it was over.

I woke to the sound of Chloe's dogs barking outside. Since Chloe was still asleep, I got ready for work, trying not to make a sound, while I contemplated these crazy dreams. Why was I having dreams about the weather? The tornado must represent something. I knew dreams usually weren't literal. I learned from Melissa that dreams were often a manifestation of some subconscious emotion. When I thought about why Don appeared in last night's dream, I began to realize the tornado dreams began the night that Don asked me out. Maybe the dreams were helping me with my first date jitters.

On the ride to work, the sky was the same vivid pink as it had been in my dream.

Weird. But it made me think again about my theory that the dreams helped with my nerves about my date.

Tonight.

My mind and my body simultaneously realized that tonight was
the
night. My date with Don. My hands started shaking, and palms started sweating. My knuckles turned white as I gripped the steering wheel even tighter in an effort to keep my hands from slipping off.

My mind was racing. I'd been waiting for this night since Saturday, and it was finally here. So much for not being nervous!

I pulled into the parking lot and started for the front door. I tripped twice—once in a pothole, the other from no visible external culprit. My nerves were in overdrive. I needed to get into the store and get this day going quickly.

"Good morning!" I yelled as I walked into the unlocked door.

"Season, what are you doing here so early?" Chrys asked as he walked toward the front of the store.

"Chloe's dogs woke me up. I decided to come on in, so I wouldn't wake her.

You?"

"I had to take my mom to the airport. She's worth millions but doesn't want to

pay for airport parking. Go figure." He laughed.

Millions?
"Nothing wrong with being frugal," I agreed. "What do you want me to do today?"

"Well, Tracy called in sick. She has that
Beautiful Friday Syndrome
," he said with a chuckle. "You can take the register."

I counted the register drawer and cleaned around the station while the pharmacist arrived. With only the three of us here today, we should be so busy that the day would fly by.

I was wrong. It dragged by. I did menial tasks around the store to keep my body busy while my mind raced. I fretted about the date, realizing I really had no idea how to go about this. I'd dated guys in the past, not often, but it happened. Though never with a guy that I liked first. I'd always been asked out by guys that liked me first. I didn't know how to relax and enjoy this date without freaking him out with my obsession.

While I toiled around the store, Chrys stayed in the back organizing his mom's office. I was extremely curious about what all he knew, but I wouldn't be able to comprehend anything in my current mental state. My brain was mush.

Since we were so painfully slow, when lunchtime came, Chrys ordered a pizza for us and locked the front door after it was delivered.

"How's your day going so far?" he asked before he took a bite.

"Okay. I've already finished all the cleaning that needs to be done. I guess it's good Tracy called-in."

He smiled. "It probably won't pick up this afternoon. Most of the doctors' offices close around one o'clock."

"Great," I said, very unenthusiastically.

"Usually Tracy is tickled when we're slow. She knows she gets paid, regardless. Since you're done with everything, you should grab a magazine off the rack and read it while you wait on customers. That might help the day go by faster."

I sighed. "It's not that I'm bored. I'm just anxious. I'd hoped working today would take my mind off tonight, and that just isn't happening."

"What's going on tonight?" he asked with his head cocked to side, and he leaned his body toward me.

I took another bite of my pizza. "I, er, have a date."

"Really? With whom?" He tried to sound passive, but his eyes betrayed him. "A guy I went to school with. He's been on vacation this week but should be

getting back sometime today."

I had finished my pizza, so I was playing with my hands. I could feel him watching my fidgety fingers, so I looked up. He was still leaning in my direction, but now his eyebrows were furrowed. Chrys wanted to ask me something, but what?

"So what's on the agenda for tonight?" He tried to sound casual, but I got a sneaking suspension that
that
wasn't the question he wanted to ask.

"I'm not sure. He'll call me later today."

"So is this guy your boyfriend?"
There
was the question he wanted to ask. "This is our first date," I qualified.

"Oh." He seemed pleased by this, which was odd.

Since he asked me if Don was my boyfriend, I figured I should use this opportunity to inquire about his personal life, for Chloe's sake.

"What about you? Anyone special in your life?" I asked as I leaned in my chair and folded my arms across my chest.

Chrys chuckled. "As a matter of fact, there is."

I frowned. Chloe wouldn't be happy about this. He watched me slump in my chair and glance away while I nodded at his answer.

Chrys let a short laugh slip out before he could compose himself. "You look sad. Were you hoping I was going to say
no
?" he teased.

I scrambled for a response that would let me off the hook while not betraying Chloe in the process, realizing that wouldn't be entirely possible.

"Well, I have this
friend
who is interested in you."

"You have a lot of friends." Not really. I figured he knew exactly who I was talking about.

"I'm not giving you any more than that. It doesn't matter anyway. You're not available."

He shook his head and with a smile said, "No . . . no, I'm not."