chapter two
─── death sounds mildly pleasant at this time
ℑ had become completely sure that they were gaslighting me after the weird school trip where I committed a minor felony. My entire school was now convinced, and attempting to convince me that Miss Kerr had been our teacher, not the crazy bat lady.
I was so close to believing that I was in the wrong (after springing multiple Mrs. Dodds references on them all), but unfortunately Grover had the lying ability of a two year old.
If I mentioned the name Mrs. Dodds, he started to tap his leg like he was trying to think of how to answer me. I immediately knew I was right. I just had to prove it.
Unfortunately, most of my days were taken up with failing all of my classes, but at night, the vision of the creepy bat hag plagued me. I would often wake up in a cold sweat, to the sound of freak weather outside of my window.
So, all in all, my mood was not exactly brilliant, and that might have been the reason that I called my English teacher a cranky old twat, and got myself expelled. All I will say is that he was chewing out the dyslexic kid for not being able to spell fast enough for him? What did he want me to do?
But, strangely, I really couldn't care less. I wanted to be back at home, with my mom, in our shoebox apartment on the Upper East Side, even if it meant putting up with my awful stepfather, his downright creepy friends and the poker parties he had. The only thing I would miss was Grover, and the view of the Hudson River from my dorm room.
I'd miss Latin class, too—Mr. Brunner's crazy tournament days and his faith that I could do well (which we all knew was a complete lie).
Exam week crept closer (much to my complete and utter dismay) and in typical Andromeda fashion, I hadn't bothered to study for any test that wasn't Latin. His was the only opinion that I cared about.
The night before the exam, I finally gave up studying, tossing my cards onto the bed, as I rubbed my eyes. Words were spinning around my head like cartoon birds after someone had been hit on a show. I didn't know how I was going to be able to remember the difference between Chiron and Charon or Zeus and a dick. Also, conjugating verbs could take a nosedive out the window, because there was no way I was remembering that.
I rubbed my forehead, before remembering Mr. Brunner's words. He'd told me that if I ever needed help, I could always go and see him and I'd get help.
Grabbing the mythology book off of the floor, I took off towards the faculty offices down the hall. Most of them were dark, the teachers having disappeared long ago, but his door was slightly ajar, and warm light spewed from the window.
I almost reached the door when I heard Grover's voice, and my name. That was never a good start.
"...worried about Romy-Andromeda, sir."
Now, I'm not normally a sneaky person, but when the genius kid in your class, who happens to be your best friend, starts to talk to your favourite teacher about you, you stay and listen.
I inched closer.
"... alone this summer," Grover was saying. "I mean, a Kindly One in the school! Now that we know for sure, and they know too—"
"We would only make matters worse by rushing her," Mr. Brunner said, and I raised an eyebrow. "We need the girl to mature more."
I was mature! The paper planes that I shot across the classroom might tell a different story, but I promise you that I'm a mature, functioning member of society.
"But she may not have time. The summer solstice deadline— "
"Will have to be resolved without her, Grover. Let her enjoy her ignorance while she still can."
"Sir, she saw her..." Well, this sounded like I was in trouble for something.
"Her imagination," Mr. Brunner insisted. "The Mist over the students and staff will be enough to convince her of that."
"Sir, I...I can't fail in my duties again." Grover's voice was choked with emotion. "You know what that would mean."
"You haven't failed, Grover," Mr. Brunner said kindly. "I should have seen her for what she was. Now let's just worry about keeping Andromeda alive until next fall—"
The mythology book dropped out of my hand and hit the floor with a thud at the statement. Keeping me alive? Had I just walked in on a couple of people plotting my demise?
Mr. Brunner went silent, and I cursed myself, before grabbing my book and slipping into the room next door, ducking down under the table in the dark.
A few seconds later, I heard what sounded like horse hooves, coming down the corridor and then an animal snuffling right outside my door. A large, dark shape paused in front of the glass, and then moved on, as I prayed that my breathing wasn't too loud.
Somewhere in the hallway, Mr. Brunner spoke. "Nothing," he murmured. "My nerves haven't been right since the winter solstice."
"Mine neither," Grover said. "But I could have sworn ..."
"Go back to the dorm," Mr. Brunner told him. "You've got a long day of exams tomorrow."
"Don't remind me."
The lights went out in Mr. Brunner's office, but I stayed hidden for a couple moments longer, before sneaking back out and up to my dorm. Grover was waiting outside, before he perked up as he saw me.
"I was hoping we could do some last minute studying together?" I raised an eyebrow, unlocking my door as I glanced back at him. "You look awful. Is everything okay?"
"Thanks, kid." I forced a laugh, opening the door for him to come in. "And yeah, mythology and Latin verbs are frying my brain."
"Well, hopefully I can help," Grover grinned, hopping over to sit on my desk chair as I launched myself onto my bed and watched him with narrowed eyes. I had no clue what I heard downstairs, nor did I really want to, but there were two options.
Option A: Grover and Mr. Brunner were plotting to kill me
OR
Option B: Someone was trying to kill me and Grover and Mr. Brunner were trying to help.
Personally, I was hoping for Option B.
The next afternoon, I finally finished my three hour Latin and mythology exam, and I was preparing myself for a lecture from my mum about getting expelled. Mr. Brunner called me back before I could continue to contemplate my impending doom.
"Andromeda," he said. "Don't be discouraged about leaving Yancy. It's...it's for the best."
His tone might have been quiet, but those still finishing the test could hear it in the silent room. Nancy Bobofit smirked at me, and I shot her a glare.
"Okay, sir."
"I mean ..." Mr. Brunner wheeled his chair back and forth, like he wasn't sure what to say. "This isn't the right place for you. It was only a matter of time."
The comment stung, but I took a deep breath and pushed the feeling down.
"Right," I said, trembling.
"No, no," Mr. Brunner said. "Oh, confound it all. What I'm trying to say...you're not normal, Andromeda. That's nothing to be—"
"Thanks," I blurted, not caring about how sarcastic I sounded. "Thanks a lot, sir, for reminding me."
"Andromeda—"
But I was already gone, leaving a snickering class behind me.
∘☽༓☾∘
I finished folding my clothes, placing them into my suitcase as I heard the others talk about their extravagant holiday plans. They might have been delinquents, much like myself, but they were rich delinquents.
Not like me. I was a poor delinquent, so my summer was going to be spent working multiple jobs, contemplating my life existence and spending time with my mum.
The only person I dreaded saying goodbye to was Grover, but as it turned out, I didn't have to. He'd booked a ticket to Manhattan on the same Greyhound as I had, so there we were, together again, heading into the city.
During the whole bus ride, Grover kept glancing nervously down the aisle, watching the other passengers as if they were going to turn into an evil hag.
Finally I couldn't stand it anymore.
"Looking for Kindly Ones?"
Grover nearly jumped out of his seat, looking at me in horror. "Wha—what do you mean?"
I confessed about eavesdropping on him and Mr. Brunner the night before the exam.
Grover's eyes twitched. "How much did you hear?"
"Oh...not much. What's the summer solstice deadline?"
He winced. "Look, Romy...I was just worried for you, see? I mean, hallucinating about demon maths teachers..."
"Grover—"
"And I was telling Mr. Brunner that maybe you were overstressed or something, because there was no such person as Mrs. Dodds, and..."
"Grover, you're a shit liar."
His ears turned pink, as he rubbed the back of his hair.
From his shirt pocket, he fished out a grubby business card. "Just take this, okay? In case you need me this summer."
My dyslexia gave me hell as I tried to read the writing with narrowed eyes. Finally, I managed to make out words on the page.
Grover Underwood
Keeper
Half-Blood Hill
Long Island, New York
(800)009-0009
"What's Half—"
"Don't say it aloud, Romy!" he yelped, looking around carefully. "That's my, um...summer address."
My heart sank. Grover had a summer home. I'd never considered that his family might be as rich as the others at Yancy. I always thought he was a nerdy dork like me.
"Okay," I said glumly. "So, like, if I want to come visit your mansion?"
He nodded. "Or...or if you need me."
"Why would I need you?" I paused as I heard my tone of voice. "That came out slightly meaner than I meant it too."
Grover blushed right down to his Adam's apple. "It's fine, Romy, the truth is, I—I kind of have to protect you."
I raised an eyebrow at him. All year long, I had been the one to keep the bullies away from the small kid, getting myself into trouble because he was just too much of a pacifist to slam his crutch onto one of their feet.
"Grover," I said, "what exactly are you protecting me from?"
There was a huge grinding noise under our feet. Black smoke poured from the dashboard and the whole bus filled with a smell like rotten eggs. The driver cursed and limped the Greyhound over to the side of the highway.
After a few minutes clanking around in the engine compartment, the driver announced that we'd all have to get off. Grover and I filed outside with everybody else.
We were on a stretch of country road—no place you'd notice if you didn't break down there. On our side of the highway was nothing but maple trees and litter from passing cars. On the other side, across four lanes of asphalt shimmering with afternoon heat, was an old-fashioned fruit stand.
The stuff on sale looked really good: heaping boxes of blood red cherries and apples, walnuts and apricots, jugs of cider in a claw-foot tub full of ice. There were no customers, just three old ladies sitting in rocking chairs in the shade of a maple tree, knitting the biggest pair of socks I'd ever seen.
I was slightly confused about who needed sweater sized socks in electric blue. The lady on the right knitted one, whilst the lady on the left knitted the other and the one in the middle held the basket of yarn.
All three women looked ancient (I promise that I'm not being rude, they really did), with pale faces, silver hair tied back in white bandannas, bony arms sticking out of bleached cotton dresses.
The weirdest thing was, they seemed to be looking right at me.
I looked over at Grover to say something about this and saw that the blood had drained from his face. His nose was twitching.
"Grover?" I said. "Hey, kid—"
"Tell me they're not looking at you. They are, aren't they?"
"Yeah. Weird, huh? You think those socks would fit me?" I joked, looking at my small feet and shuffling them from side to side as I laughed.
"Not funny, Romy. Not funny at all."
The old lady in the middle took out a huge pair of scissors—gold and silver, long-bladed, like shears. I heard Grover catch his breath.
"We're getting on the bus," he told me. "Come on."
"What?" I said. "It's a thousand degrees in there."
"Come on!'" He pried open the door and climbed inside, but I stayed back, trying to delay getting into the boiler.
Across the road, the old ladies were still watching me. The middle one cut the yarn, and I swear I could hear that snip across four lanes of traffic - it was quite satisfying. Her two friends balled up the electric-blue socks, leaving me wondering who they could possibly be for.
At the rear of the bus, the driver wrenched a big chunk of smoking metal out of the engine compartment.
The bus shuddered, and the engine roared back to life.
The passengers cheered.
"Darn right!" yelled the driver. He slapped the bus with his hat. "Everybody back on board!"
Once we got going, I started feeling feverish, as if I'd caught the flu.
Grover didn't look much better. He was shivering and his teeth were chattering.
"Grover?"
"Yeah?"
"What are you not telling me?"
He dabbed his forehead with his shirt sleeve. "Romy, what did you see back at the fruit stand?"
"You mean the old ladies? What is it about them, man? They're not like...Mrs. Dodds, are they?"
His expression was hard to read, but I got the feeling that the fruit-stand ladies were something much, much worse than Mrs. Dodds, which was impressive. He said, "Just tell me what you saw."
"The middle one took out her scissors, and she cut the yarn."
He closed his eyes and made a gesture with his fingers that might've been crossing himself, but it wasn't. It was something else, something...older.
He said, "You saw her snip the cord."
"Yeah. So?" But even as I said it, I knew it was a big deal.
"This is not happening," Grover mumbled. He started chewing at his thumb. "I don't want this to be like the last time."
"Last time?" He was muttering to himself, as I raised an eyebrow. "Grover, what are you talking about?"
"Let me walk you home from the bus station. Promise me."
This seemed like a strange request to me, but I promised he could.
"Is this like a superstition or something?" I asked.
No answer.
"Grover—that snipping of the yarn. Does that mean somebody is going to die?"
He didn't answer, but I could practically read his thoughts;
"What flowers would you like on your coffin, Romy?" which was a question that I'd have to think about properly.
∘☽༓☾∘
Hiya,
Andromeda is my spirit animal and I love her and Grover's relationship dearly.
Let me know what you think,
Love Li xx