short.
Even if I live a long, full life, there’s no guarantee that it will be in any way normal. I reconciled myself to the lonely path a long time ago. It’s only going to hurt more later if I get my hopes up now.
But as we get to my car and Nick opens the driver’s door for me, I can’t quash the tiny little spark that ignites in my chest. I can’t help remembering that, if it weren’t possible to have relationships while being a guardian, my sisters and I wouldn’t even be here. Medusa made it work.
Maybe— maybe —I could too.
One thing is certain, though. As Nick buckles in and I put Moira in gear, I know there is something different about this boy. Something that makes me want to believe. Even when my every instinct warns that it can’t be this easy. Something inside me wants to try. As I pull out into the night, I smile. Beside me I sense Nick smile too.
CHAPTER 10
G RACE
T he bleachers overlooking Milo’s soccer field are built into a hill. It’s such a beautiful sunny day that part of me wants to skip the bleachers altogether, find a spot on the grassy slope, and absorb some nature.
That’s one thing I miss in San Francisco. There is so much glass and concrete, I feel kind of disconnected from nature. Sure, there are trees and flowers on practically every street, and water is never hard to find, but turf is mostly reserved for the parks and the very rare backyards.
I’m early. I’ve got at least fifteen minutes before the team shows up for practice. Besides, how could it hurt to lie down on the grass for a little bit?
Using my backpack as a pillow, I find a spot between the base of the bleachers and the field and settle in to soak up the sun above and the earth below. With my eyes closed, I can almost believe I’m back in Orangevale, lying in our backyard.
I don’t regret moving to the city. If we hadn’t, I never would have met my sisters or learned about our destiny, our legacy. I wouldn’t have met Milo, either. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t things I miss. Right now, in this moment, I feel like I have the best of both worlds.
I drift away.
Then, suddenly, I’m not on the grass anymore. I’m flying. Searching for something. For some one .
“Sthenno!” I try to shout, but no sound comes out. “Euryale! Where are you?”
I’m becoming desperate, soaring through fog and clouds, looking everywhere. Then I stop moving. I’m still swimming in the air, but I’m frozen in place. Panicked, I stroke harder.
Then, out of nowhere, a storm kicks up. I start rocking through the clouds like a boat caught in rough seas. Shaking, shaking, sha—
My eyes pop open.
Gasping, I blurt, “Milo?”
“Hey,” he says, his lips curving into a wide smile. “You okay? Looked like you were having a rough dream.”
That’s an understatement.
“No, no,” I say, pushing myself up, careful not to knock my head into his. I’m gasping a little, trying to catch my breath as if I’ve just run a race. He has no idea. “I’m fine. Just”—I gesture around at the green field—“enjoying the grass.”
“Yeah,” he says, smiling deeper, humoring me. “You looked like you were having a nice peaceful nightmare.”
“I—” I almost don’t let go of the lie. There’s a part of me that wants to maintain that image of normalcy when everything in my life—dreams included, apparently—is full-on abnormal. But I’ve had to do enough lying and keep enough secrets and tell enough half-truths lately. The more I hide my life in the shadows, the more likely I am to get trapped there. I can’t tell Milo the whole truth, obviously, but I don’t have to lie about this.
I take a deep breath, force myself to relax, and ask, “Ever have one of those dreams where you’re flying, but then all of a sudden you can’t fly anymore?”
He holds out a hand to help pull me to my feet. “All the time.”
He doesn’t release my hand once I’m standing. We’re only inches apart and I have to
Even if I live a long, full life, there’s no guarantee that it will be in any way normal. I reconciled myself to the lonely path a long time ago. It’s only going to hurt more later if I get my hopes up now.
But as we get to my car and Nick opens the driver’s door for me, I can’t quash the tiny little spark that ignites in my chest. I can’t help remembering that, if it weren’t possible to have relationships while being a guardian, my sisters and I wouldn’t even be here. Medusa made it work.
Maybe— maybe —I could too.
One thing is certain, though. As Nick buckles in and I put Moira in gear, I know there is something different about this boy. Something that makes me want to believe. Even when my every instinct warns that it can’t be this easy. Something inside me wants to try. As I pull out into the night, I smile. Beside me I sense Nick smile too.
CHAPTER 10
G RACE
T he bleachers overlooking Milo’s soccer field are built into a hill. It’s such a beautiful sunny day that part of me wants to skip the bleachers altogether, find a spot on the grassy slope, and absorb some nature.
That’s one thing I miss in San Francisco. There is so much glass and concrete, I feel kind of disconnected from nature. Sure, there are trees and flowers on practically every street, and water is never hard to find, but turf is mostly reserved for the parks and the very rare backyards.
I’m early. I’ve got at least fifteen minutes before the team shows up for practice. Besides, how could it hurt to lie down on the grass for a little bit?
Using my backpack as a pillow, I find a spot between the base of the bleachers and the field and settle in to soak up the sun above and the earth below. With my eyes closed, I can almost believe I’m back in Orangevale, lying in our backyard.
I don’t regret moving to the city. If we hadn’t, I never would have met my sisters or learned about our destiny, our legacy. I wouldn’t have met Milo, either. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t things I miss. Right now, in this moment, I feel like I have the best of both worlds.
I drift away.
Then, suddenly, I’m not on the grass anymore. I’m flying. Searching for something. For some one .
“Sthenno!” I try to shout, but no sound comes out. “Euryale! Where are you?”
I’m becoming desperate, soaring through fog and clouds, looking everywhere. Then I stop moving. I’m still swimming in the air, but I’m frozen in place. Panicked, I stroke harder.
Then, out of nowhere, a storm kicks up. I start rocking through the clouds like a boat caught in rough seas. Shaking, shaking, sha—
My eyes pop open.
Gasping, I blurt, “Milo?”
“Hey,” he says, his lips curving into a wide smile. “You okay? Looked like you were having a rough dream.”
That’s an understatement.
“No, no,” I say, pushing myself up, careful not to knock my head into his. I’m gasping a little, trying to catch my breath as if I’ve just run a race. He has no idea. “I’m fine. Just”—I gesture around at the green field—“enjoying the grass.”
“Yeah,” he says, smiling deeper, humoring me. “You looked like you were having a nice peaceful nightmare.”
“I—” I almost don’t let go of the lie. There’s a part of me that wants to maintain that image of normalcy when everything in my life—dreams included, apparently—is full-on abnormal. But I’ve had to do enough lying and keep enough secrets and tell enough half-truths lately. The more I hide my life in the shadows, the more likely I am to get trapped there. I can’t tell Milo the whole truth, obviously, but I don’t have to lie about this.
I take a deep breath, force myself to relax, and ask, “Ever have one of those dreams where you’re flying, but then all of a sudden you can’t fly anymore?”
He holds out a hand to help pull me to my feet. “All the time.”
He doesn’t release my hand once I’m standing. We’re only inches apart and I have to
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