“Andie. You’re rambling.” He tossed the hockey puck onto his desk. “But I know what you mean.”
“Why won’t they just come back?” she asked.
“They will.”
“I don’t think Demeter really knows that.” Andie sat down heavily on the edge of his bed, then tilted up again. “I sat on your phone. Here, it’s ringing. It’s … Ariel. What’s she want?”
“Give me that.” He looked at it briefly, and wished she’d called at any other time. “Hello?” He turned slightly and tried to listen, laughed in all the right places, asked follow-up questions, all the while with one ear tuned to Andie, who was not so subtly rubbernecking over his shoulder. It was distracting, but he got the gist of the conversation. Party at Ariel’s house. Come whenever he wanted.
“What was that about?”
“Nothing.” He put the phone in his pocket. He and Andie could just hang out, the two of them. Watch a movie. Be miserable together. He sighed, and got up off the bed. “Want to go to a party?”
* * *
“A party at Ariel Moreau’s,” Andie mused as they pulled up to her house. It was in the same wealthy neighborhood as their friend Sam, who hosted epic Halloween shindigs. “What’s she even doing home? Shouldn’t she be spring breaking in Cancun or something?”
Henry smiled. “Don’t be a jerk.”
“Tall order. Maybe I shouldn’t have come. This isn’t exactly my crowd.”
“I’m your crowd.”
“If you say so,” Andie said. “But if you disappear for three hours to make out with Ariel, I’ll be none too pleased.”
Henry watched her get out of the car and start up the street toward the driveway. “Not much chance of that,” he said quietly.
Inside the house, Andie stuck to him for approximately five minutes. Then she was off, talking to everyone and no one. She had a way of making herself seem comfortable even when she wasn’t.
Henry stood with his friends from hockey and drank a beer. There was enough music and enough conversation to keep him from thinking about his sister for five minutes at a stretch. It wasn’t the same with Achilles, though. He thought of that fight every time he looked at Andie.
Henry didn’t remember the first fight with Achilles, that grand duel in the sands outside Troy. He wondered if he would be even more afraid if he did, or if it would be boring, like it was just more of the same.
But boring was the wrong word. He didn’t imagine the prospect of getting a spear rammed through one’s chest could ever be boring.
“Hey.”
He turned and found Ariel with her head cocked flirtatiously. She seemed a little drunk. “You brought a girl to my party,” she said.
“No, he didn’t,” Max Bauer interjected. “He brought Big Andie. She doesn’t count.” Everyone laughed.
“Don’t let her hear you say that,” Henry said through a fake smile. “She could kill you.”
“I sort of want her to. Remember Sam Burress’ Halloween party? If she smothers me to death with her rack then I’m all for it.”
Henry’s grip tightened around the beer bottle, but Ariel turned him away.
“Do you need another drink?” she asked.
“No, this one’s almost full. And I have to drive home later.”
She looked disappointed, and put her hand on his arm. “My parents are out of town. You don’t have to drive home. You could stay.”
Snickers and victorious whispers broke out behind him. He could stay at Ariel’s house. Probably in her room. Likely in her bed. He looked across the party to where Andie was taking a shot of something. She was going to need him, before the night was over.
“No, I think I’d better stay sober. Get Andie home safe.”
Ariel shrugged, surprised, and walked away.
That might be it. The end of his phone calls from Ariel Moreau.
Henry looked at Andie and realized that he didn’t care.
* * *
In the end, Andie had a better time than he did. Maybe too good a time, judging from the way she stumbled on the walk back to the Mustang.
“My mom’s going to kill me if I wake up hungover tomorrow. She’ll kill me tonight if she’s still up. Whoops—”
She stumbled again. Henry caught her and threw her arm around his shoulders.
“You can stay at our place if you want. Just text her and let her know. She probably won’t mind.”