Absolutely nothing.
To say I’m frustrated would be an overwhelming understatement.
So rather than scream like a crazy person in front of the Euclid High soccer team, I close my eyes and point my nose toward the sun. When a shadow blocks my light a few minutes later, I have a momentary panic attack that it might be another harpy.
Until Milo says, “Hey there.”
I open my eyes and smile. “Hi.”
“Ready to eat?” he asks. “I’m starved.”
“Me too.”
I grab my backpack and fall in step beside him as we head for the pizza place around the corner from the soccer field. I smile as I realize we’re both wearing Chuck Taylors. I knew we were a good match.
“What did you do this weekend?” he asks. “Other than have the most amazing crepe lunch ever.”
I laugh. “Oh, I kept myself busy.” Scouring the city for a mythological fortune-teller. The frustration is about to burst from me, so I decide to let it out in a manageable amount. “I’m working on this really impossible project. It’s taking up all my time and I feel like I’m not making any progress.”
Whew. It feels good to share even a little bit of what’s going on.
“That’s tough,” he says. “What class is it for?”
Ooops. I didn’t think that far ahead. I try to think of a subject that he’s probably not taking. “Oh, um, computer science.”
He whistles. “Can’t help you with that one.”
“Darn,” I say. “And I was so hoping you were up on your JavaScript coding skills.”
“I may not know about computer stuff,” he says, kicking a pebble up the sidewalk as we walk. “But I am brilliant at motivation. Want some?”
“Definitely.”
I smile as he stops and turns me to face him. His mint-green eyes look steadily into my silver ones. He’s taking this very seriously.
“If you really want something,” he says, “you go after it. Even if you think it’s impossible. Even if it scares you. Even if you think it might kill you. You go after it.”
I know a thing or two about scary. Especially the kind that might actually kill me. In fact, scary has been a big part of my life lately. If it’s not one of the factions in the brewing war plotting my death, it’s a monster pouring out of the abyss or disappearing into—
“Omigosh!”
Milo jerks back, startled.
I have an idea how to find out how to get Gretchen back.
“I’m sorry.” I can’t keep the huge grin off my face. “I have to go.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m great,” I say. “You helped me figure out the next step of my project,” I explain, hoping he doesn’t ask any specific questions. “And now that I know what to do, I want to go attack it right away.”
Attack being the key word.
He nods. “I understand.”
He sounds resigned.
I can’t leave like this. I don’t want him thinking I’m ditching him, or that I don’t want to be here. I do want to spend time with him, so badly. But I want to rescue my sister from the monster abyss more. And now I have an idea of how I can do that.
I’m so excited by my idea, it’s like happy-filled bubbles are popping in my chest, and I act without thinking. I step forward, lean up, and plant a quick kiss on his adorable mouth.
As I pull back, my cheeks flaming with embarrassment, I see Milo’s eyes widen.
“I promise,” I say with as much conviction as possible. “I want to spend time with you. I want to go out every night and eat weird food I’ve never even heard of and make fun of bad movies and just … be together.”
“Me too,” he says quietly.
“But right now,” I say, backing slowly away from him, “I have to go.”
This time, when he says, “I understand,” I think he really does.
With one last, beaming grin, I turn and run to the nearest bus stop. I want to call Greer immediately and tell her my plan, but she is in her tea meeting right now. Her phone will be off, so there’s no point in calling. I’ll be waiting when she gets out.
CHAPTER 19
GREER
Greer.... Greer? … Greer!”
“What?” I glare at the source of the shouting, my alumnae tea cochair nemesis, Veronica. I am seriously over the sound of her voice.
“There is a motion to have the sugar cubes formed in the shape of a fleur-de-lis.” Veronica gives me an annoyed look. “We need your vote.”
“Oh,” I say. “I vote yes. Fine.”
She marks down the vote and starts counting them up.
I know I’m distracted. I’ve barely paid attention to anything that has happened during this meeting. For all I know, Veronica has resurrected her horrid ice sculpture idea and there will now be a frozen dragon at Saturday’s event.
This is so unlike me. I can usually shake off anything, focus on the task at hand, and get things done. When I put my foot down with Grace about having to be present at this meeting, I fully expected to leave my other worries at the door. I’m failing miserably.
My mind keeps drifting, trying to find a solution to the current problem. And that is not whether to have the string quartet begin with the school anthem or Ravel’s Bolero, as the ladies around me are debating. For once, the minute details of planning an elaborate event seem trivial to me. I have more pressing, more important life-or-death matters to worry about.