“Anteros?”
“The god of avenging unrequited love.” Nicole flashes me a devious smile. “Blake doesn’t stand a chance.”
I float all the way to Physics, daydreaming about the romantic bonfire and how Nicole is going to help me catch Griffin Blake so I can get him out of my system. Something in the back corner of my mind screams that I don’t want to get over him, but I ignore it.
Evening is cool on the beach, but the sun-warmed sand and the roaring bonfire more than keep me warm. The water of the Aegean stretches out before me as far as I can see, until it disappears into the setting sun. An inky blue sea with crimson reflecting on every ripple. I can imagine those thousand ships setting sail, gliding silently over the waves to rescue Helen from Troy—whether she
wanted to be rescued or not.
“The island is pretty romantic at night,” Troy says from behind me.
I turn, surprised to see him after he stormed off at lunch— not that I blame him considering the fool I made of myself over Griffin. Only a great miracle of willpower kept me from losing my own lunch.
“Yeah,” I say brilliantly. “It’s beautiful.”
Boy is it.
Nicole and I had gotten to the beach just before sunset, so I am watching the sun turn the Aegean into a sea of flames. Everything glows in a million shades of orange. Even the village buildings— walls of the same white plaster as Damian’s house—perched on the cliffs above the water reflect the warm light, turning them a pinkish shade of peach. It’s breathtaking.
For a few seconds I am even thankful to be on this stupid island, just so I could watch this sunset.
“They say that Leda, a handmaiden of Helios who was in love with the sun god, built this island by hand,” he explains. “She carried soil from Serifos one fistful at a time.”
“Why?” I ask, wondering what would possess someone to undertake such an overwhelming task.
“Each night, when Helios drove his chariot below the horizon, she wept for the loss of him.” Troy’s voice is soft and hypnotizing. “She built this island so she could watch him until the last ray of his light disappeared from view.”
“Wow.” That’s devotion. And one of the most romantic things I’ve ever heard. I turn away from the waning sunset to look up at Troy. “So the island was built for watching the sun set?”
He shrugs. “It’s just a fairy tale. A bedtime story men made up to tell around the fire at night.”
From the far-off look in his eyes—which are not looking at me—I can tell he’s still hurt.
“Until a few days ago,” I return, “I thought you were a fairy tale.”
“There’s a difference. Myths and fairy tales aren’t the same thing.”
“Then explain it to me.”
Still gazing at the water, he says, “A myth is a tradition, a legend created to explain the unexplainable. The gods are unexplainable, hence they are myth.”
“And fairy tales?”
I watch his face closely, looking for a reaction. Finally, after several long seconds, he turns to look down at me. He meets my gaze head on, concentrating like he’s trying to figure me out. Good luck with that. Eventually his features relax and he smiles a little.
“A fairy tale,” he says, “is a story we wish were true.”
I smile in relief. Whatever Troy and I are destined to become, I know we’re friends. And I’m glad my stupid deal with Stella hasn’t come between that.
Which reminds me . . . “There’s something I need to tell you.”
His eyebrows lift.
I stand up so I can tell him eye-to-eye.
“It’s about me and the evil stepsister.”
“I’m listening,” he says.
It’s better he knows what’s going on so next time I make a fool of myself with Griffin he doesn’t jump to any crazy conclusions. The reality of the situation is bad enough.
“What happened in the lunch room today wasn’t about me wanting Griffin.” At least, not just about me wanting Griffin. “Stella and I made a deal.”
He looks skeptical. “About what?”
“If I break up Griffin and Adara she’ll tutor me in Modern Greek—”
“I could help you with Modern Greek.”
Why hadn’t I thought of that? “That’s not the only thing. If I do this she’ll help convince her dad that I don’t need to stay on for Level 13.”
“And if you don’t?” He crosses his arms over his chest.
“She’ll convince him that I do.”
He scowls. “Why that conniving, blackmailing—”
“I know . . . but I agreed.”
“So,” he says slowly, “you want to get off this island so bad you’re willing to make a deal with the gorgon?”
“Yes.” He sounds so sad that I feel kinda guilty. But undeterred. “I just wanted you to know, so you would understand, because I don’t want to lose your friendship.”
I place a little extra emphasis on the word friendship, trying to make him see that that’s how I think of him. As a friend.
From the look in his eyes, he knows exactly what I’m saying.
“All right.” He smiles, like he’s trying to show that he’s fine with that. “If that’s what you really want I’ll do whatever I can to help.”
I tug my zip-front sweatshirt tighter around my waist. The sun is gone now, and the beach is downright chilly. Maybe all that cool air blowing off the water.