Rewritten

Chapter 2: Adjustment

 "I'm fine," I mutter, even though I'm anything but. For the first time in, well, ever my usual facade has slipped away. I can't even think of a word to describe my emotions. Because unless Art's lying, which I highly doubt, then my mum's company was bought out by the Hunters -and not just any, but the Hunter. John Mclean, father of head cheerleader slash best teen hunter of her generation slash my now supposed best friend Christie McLean, is the leader of the Hunters, and, by obvious default, one of the best. Him hiring my mum meant getting too close to the enemy for comfort, yet she was still willing to work for the guy.

 I hated her for that.

 The thought surprised even me, so I tried to ignore it, but then another thought, almost worse, came to me. If I hadn't been an altered, would dad have been so adamant about mum leaving the company?

 Did that make me responsible for their divorce?

 "Earth to Ena...?" Art waved a hand in front of my face, and I realised I'd zoned out. When I refocused, Art looked worried. "You didn't get pissed at me for shortening your name! What's wrong?"

 "Nothing." I let her follow me into her room, even though I was freaking out. How was I supposed to work out what was going on here and catch Art's killer when my mum was working with the type of people who'd kill me for that very thing? I suddenly felt old, and the time travel had nothing to do with it. Going into my room certainly didn't help.

 With all the madness of the night so far, I'd managed to completely forget about how foreign the room looked to me. Oh there were some similarities to my old room -like the bed in the corner that offered a perfect view to the window and street outside (all the better to see Hunters coming) and the desk had the expected pen marks on virtually every inch of it. The bottom drawer still had the dent in the bottom from when I'd stupidly practiced self defence lessons in my room years ago and nearly broke my toe. But there, the similarities ended.

 The beds were now covered in alluring red sheets, as opposed to the midnight blue ones I was used to. The laptop I'd once had a love-hate relationship with on the pen covered desk wasn't battered anymore because it had been replaced by a new, sleek one that couldn't have reached a year of its life yet. The wardrobe was now filled with clothes designed to make me stand out, as opposed to hiding and blending into the crowd. There was also a mirror on the desk, and make-up littered around it. I had beanbags for guests to sit on, even though I wasn't normally the type to bring people around. But that wasn't the part that really intrigued me. I was more interested in one of the walls, which had become a mural of photos. I moved to the wall to inspect them, surprised at how many of them featured Connor and Christie. There were photos of Connor and me at the last prom, a year ago. That was an amusing concept to me, considering that I didn't recall having ever attended a prom in my life. Then there were the photos of us out at dates and with the rest of the wannabe hunters, cheerleaders and football players that made up the popular crowd... which I was clearly now very much a part of.

 And I hadn't even got to the Christie pictures yet. I wasn't sure who featured in the pictures more between my new boyfriend and best friend, but it seemed I spent every hour of the day with at least one of them.

 "You zoned out again!" Art's voice drags me away from my thoughts for a second time. "Seriously, Athena, what's wrong?"

 "I think I need to see dad," I tell her. I'm hoping that he'll know where my diary is, since he sounds like the parent I'm more likely to have entrusted it with. "Know where he is?"

 "He had some lecture on the Odyssey I think? Or was it the Trojan war?" Art shrugs. "Something to do with Greek mythology."

 I roll my eyes at this, because of course he's lecturing on Greek mythology -it's his speciality, and also the reason me and Art have such weird names. Art was named after Artemis, the virgin goddess of the moon and the hunt, whereas I'd got Athena, the goddess of battle and wisdom. I found that pretty ironic because even though Art was goddess level beautiful, she was certainly no virgin, and I definitely wouldn't refer to myself as wise. I shouldn't have been surprised Dad was lecturing though -he was a workaholic.