Kiss Me

God help me if he ever discovers their true potential.

So, questions.

And then, the decision. Drum roll, please. Dun, dun, dun, dahhhh.

Your mother is the gorgeous Aphrodite. She is the goddess of love and, more importantly, seduction. People can’t help but to fall in love with you. You are probably very good looking. You are also very good at seducing the opposite sex with your god-like charm. But use this trait wisely. Heartbreak is the most painful of wounds. But you don’t really care because you are the one breaking hearts.

See! See what I’m up against here?

So then I search: How to resist a demigod.

Get no answers.

How to resist a god.

No real answers. And I’m pretty sure Google just laughed at me.

How to resist Aphrodite.

Maybe if I know how to resist her, I can use that on her son.

So here’s the scoop on Aphrodite. Apparently when she wore her golden Spanx, no god or mortal could resist her. And, even when she didn’t wear them, there were only three gods that could resist her and they were all apparently virgins.

There goes what little hope I had.

Also, I just read the story of Aphrodite, and she was one mean, lying, slutty bitch. So she gets herself all gorgeous, then meets this guy. He, of course, thinking she’s too hot to be mortal, asks if she’s a god. She lies to this guy, tells him that she’s just a maiden, talks him into taking her back to his place, seduces him, purposely gets pregnant, then tells him she’s a god, that she’s going to name their son something that translates to awful, and proceeds to tell him he’s beneath her, even though he is hot and nice. Later she has something to do with the Trojan war that causes a bunch of people to die, and then she has an affair with some god named Ares, but they get caught and were going to be punished, but she maybe got out of it by promising to sleep with Hermes.

So, basically, if you ask me, this goddess should not be the goddess of love!

She is obviously the goddess of hooking up and then turning against you. She’s mean!

Shouldn’t the goddess of love be all lovey and beautiful and sweet?

So the verdict: if this is half of what I’m up against, I am definitely screwed.

And speaking of screwed. Before my brain can stop them, my fingers have typed Cush’s name into Facebook and pulled up his profile. He has a new profile picture. One of him and his dad. He’s smiling so big I can see his dimples. His hair is buzzed again, but his cheeks look freshly shaven. I reach out and touch his face on the screen.

I feel like I’m living two separate lives again.

I forgave Cush for the things he said to me after he got drugged. Will he be able to forgive me for this?

I click the message button and start typing.

I tell him about the boots. About what really happened at the party. About where I am. About Brooklyn. About my family. About how Vincent followed him to the pizza party. I ask him what they were celebrating. And, most importantly, I ask him to forgive me.

My finger hovers over the send button.

I close my eyes.

Images, voices, and feelings all run through my mind.

I open my eyes and delete the message.

Wednesday, September 7th

We talk.

Ceramics

Bryce, Jake, and I are sitting in class playing with clay. We are contemplating what we are going to create out of this single piece of clay. There’s a metaphor, or a life meaning thing, in that statement, possibly about me molding my life, I think, but I am too busy gossiping with Bryce and Jake to care.

“So Jakey, heard it’s all Facebook official. You and Whitney are going out.”

“Uh, yeah, I guess so.”

“You don’t seem that thrilled.”

“She’s not exactly what I expected.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. I thought she was perfect, but she’s kinda clingy. And, I swear, about the only time she kisses me is in front of Dawson. It pisses me off. Plus, she told me that if I wanted things to progress then we needed to be going out.”

“Progress, how?”

“Sex.”

Bryce says, “I’d tap that. She’s hot.”

“Yeah, she is. We’ll see. It better progress pretty fucking quickly is all I’m saying. There’s plenty of doable girls here.”

“And now that everyone knows you’re, like, practically the next King, lots of girls want to be doable.”

“I can’t believe she told everyone that. It’s kinda embarrassing.”

“Dude, if it gets you laid, who cares?” Bryce asks.

I punch Jake’s arm gently. “I would have done this earlier, had I known.”

I stand in front of him and do a little curtsey.

Bryce comes over by me and kneels. He’s cracking up the entire time.

“Shut up. It’s stupid really. I’m like one hundred and thirtieth in line or something. A whole lot of people would have to die for that to ever happen.”

Bryce says, “Just think, England gets nuked, and you’d have to go back and rule the devastation.”

Yeah,” I giggle, “and you could take Whitney to be your queen. How cool would that be?”

Jake laughs. “You know how she always brags about how her ancestors came over on the bloody Mayflower?”

“No,” I say, and Bryce goes, “Yeah, all the time.” We look at each other and laugh.

Jake looks at me. “You know the kind of people that came over on the Mayflower, right?”

“Uh, explorers?”

“No, hoodlums, criminals, people that couldn’t make it in England. England was glad to be rid of them. No way they’d want her back. Someday, I’m go

“That’d make Dawson laugh his ass off,” I tell him.

Bryce says, “Speaking of Dawson, what’s up with you two?”

“I don’t know. We’re hanging out, having fun. It’s new. Chill. I like him.”

“Are you worried they’ll get back together and dump us?” Jake asks.

“Well, we aren’t going out. He says he doesn’t like her anymore, and I think he had a lot of rebound girls this summer, but does that mean he’s ready for a relationship with me or anyone else? I really don’t know.”

Bryce smirks at me. “It looks like your relationship is doing just fine.”

“Stop insinuating shit. I hate when people do that. If you wa

“You seem pretty tight, like, having-sex tight.”

Jake shakes his head and frowns. “Wait. So, I’m going out with Whitney, can’t hang with other girls, getting zero, and you aren’t going out with Dawes, he can do what he wants, and he’s getting it? Dude, that’s jacked up.”

“I never said he’s getting it, but, yeah, pretty much. He asked me if we should be going out, but I said no. I mean, I don’t wa

“Heard what your ex did to you. That was pretty low,” Jake says sweetly.

“Oh my gosh! How do you hear this stuff?”

“Football practice. We stand in line a lot. We talk.”

“Dawson told me,” Bryce says.

Jake studies me closely. “Riley told me. Does he have a crush on you? Because someone said something about you and he came unglued.”

“What happened?”

“Well, someone made a remark about you and Dawson and it, um, well, it was sorta derogatory toward you. Riley slammed him up against the locker and told him to shut the fuck up.”

“What?! When was this?”

“Yesterday after practice.”

“Why didn’t he tell me?”

“I don’t know.”

“Wait. Who said something about me and Dawson?”

“Uh.”

“Tell me!”

“Um, it might have been Peyton’s bro.”

“Aiden?!”

“Yeah.”

“What did he say?!”

“That Dawson was just using you. Well, actually, he used a different word than using. Sorry.”