Oracle

"He deceives you. He— he doesn't love you, child." The words spill out. Like water from a cracked jug. "He is seeing another. He doesn't love you. He loves— Di— D—"

The girl in the video rolls her head back and her green eyes flash towards the camera, flaring like green fire, before she faints. A swath of crimson hair and a hand shoot in front of the lens and then it's over. Deina drops her phone on her bed and sighs, running a hand down her face. She checks her texts, even though she knows there's nothing new. Cass hasn't answered her for a whole week; why would she start now? And it's spring break, but instead of staying in the dorm with Deina, like they'd planned, Cass had gone back home. She'd left a note. On a paper towel. Suddenly, Deina's phone rings. She scrambles to pick it up.

"Hello! Hello?"

"Ah, Deinaki, why are you panting? Finally exercising?" Her Thia Anita's throaty laugh echoes on the other end. She hadn't realized it was Sunday. Oh. Sunday!

"Are you with Yia-Yia?"

"Yes—" Thia Anita's voice cuts away and Deina hears her scolding someone in Greek. "Agh, these kids. And your Yia-Yia! Yia-Yia, put your seatbelt on!"

"It's five minutes!" Deina hears Yia-Yia's muffled shout and tries to hold in a giggle.

"Okay, well—" Deina starts.

"No! Nicky!" Thia Anita goes off on one of her reprimanding rants and Deina stares at the ceiling. All the dorms have the same popcorn-stucco kind that falls off constantly. She watches a puff detach and float down to her sand-toned sheets. Her Thia sighs through the phone, finally finished nagging.

"Okay. Thia?"

"Yes, yes, Deina! Oh, sorry, I—"

"I know, I know," Deina waves her hand around, as if it'll help the conversation move faster, "tell Yia-Yia I'll be at her house soon."

"I can hear you!" Yia-Yia yells.

"Sorry, she must have put you on speaker!" Thia Anita's hurried tone tells Deina that the car is about to start. She's got to leave either way.

"Okay, bye Thia!"

"Bye! Bye, bye, bye!"

Her Thia hangs up abruptly and Deina sighs, falling back on her bed. She should get dressed. Her phone buzzes in her hand and she springs up. Instagram. She tries to think rationally. It's probably nothing. Just some celebrity story or new online item. It works for about 30 seconds and then she caves, fingers flying to type in her password. It is Cass. A photo taken out of a car window, blurry vintage filter definitely applied. Caption: Clearing my head from this weekend. Love to be home. #friendsandfamily

Deina mutes her phone. Do Not Disturb, wifi off, everything. She gets dressed. Switching her leggings and putting on deodorant should be enough, right? She hurries down the steps to her bike when her vision fogs up. She fumbles the last step and feels saltwater roll down her cheek.

"Ugh!"

She quickly swipes the tears away. Bike. Yia-Yia's house. Maybe some leftovers for her to take home. Maybe dolmades. Deina takes a deep breath. She's fine. It's fine. Her best friend will talk to her again. But as she hops on her bike, settles onto the white leather banana seat, she thinks: Someday.

The wind is cool and the sun beams, high above Deina as she cycles towards Yia-Yia's. The ride is simple, routine, and her mind wanders. Right into where she doesn't want it to go. Last weekend.