As I watch, the cheer coach shifts and shimmers, and instead of the familiar pink track suit Coach Cypri had been wearing, now she's dressed in a flowing crimson robe with gold clasps at the shoulders. She looks like she walked out of an old painting, and I stare at her, not understanding what I'm seeing.
She sighs and snaps her fingers, and suddenly a burst of pink and red hearts appears, circling her body like a halo before fading away into nothingness. I blink at her stupidly.
"Oh, come on, you really aren't that dense, are you?" She stands up, her gown drifting around her like sea foam, and crosses the room to perch on the edge of the desk right in front of me. "Think, Lana. I gave you a golden apple, and now I'm showing you this. Don't you know anything about classical mythology?"
All at once, the answer crashes into my mind, but I shake my head, denying the utter weirdness of it. "You aren't seriously trying to say that you're...Aphrodite?"
She laughs. "It doesn't usually take mortals so long to figure it out, once I decide I want them to know. You're slow, sweetheart, but you aren't stupid."
I stare at her with my mouth hanging open. What kind of creepy alternate reality did I stumble into? "So the dance—"
She cuts me off. "You won the apple and you told me what you wanted. You're welcome."
I pause, trying to sort through my swirling thoughts and emotions. My cheer coach is a goddess. She used some kind of magic to reverse my most embarrassing moment. My cheer coach is the goddess of love. "What are you doing in a high school?"
She tosses her head back and laughs. "That's your question? Of all the things you could ask me, that's the thing you want to know?" She shakes her head, still smiling. "I knew you were different the moment I met you."
I bristle, not sure if she means it as a compliment or not, but the goddess in front of me shrugs. The air shimmers, and she's back in her track suit. I blink, wondering if I've imagined all this, but a couple of hearts are still hovering in the air near her face, like glitter, and I swallow. I'm really sitting here talking to a mythological being. "Well, why?" I ask. I mean, why would a goddess hang out at a high school? It's more than a little weird.
Her face clouds. "My son seemed to like high school well enough, so I thought I'd see what the hype was about."
Her son. "What, like, Cupid?"
She snorts. "He belongs to Venus. Eros is mine." She waves her hand dismissively. "That doesn't matter right now. What are you going to do now that you've found out?"
I bite my lip. What should I do? "I can quit the team, if you want."
Her blue eyes bore into mine. "Is that what you want?"
I pause, but then I shake my head. "Not really. But it is a little weird." A thought occurs to me, and I pause. "Do the rest of the girls know?"
Aphrodite smiles. "They may suspect. They know that as long as they work hard for me, they never have a bad hair day, and they have an easier time getting dates than some girls, but no, none of them explicitly know who I am. As you say, it might be a bit hard to explain."
I nod. "So if I stay on the team, should I act like I don't know?"
She shrugs elegantly. "That's up to you. But whatever you decide to do, don't lie. I can't abide liars."
Her tone is careless, but a warning prickle of fear runs down my back. "I won't say anything," I tell her, meaning it. "But you asked me what I'm going to do now. What do you mean?"
She sits back and studies me carefully. "Any other favors you're interested in? Should I prepare myself for a constant barrage of petitions, or worse, a child's attempt at extortion?"
Slowly, I consider her words. I'm not the type to try to blackmail her, but it didn't occur to me until she said it that I might be able to ask her for more favors. She gave me a redo on the dance just for bobbing for apples; what else might she have the power to do? I glance down at my cast, and when I look back up, her eyes are sad.
"You could fix this, couldn't you?" I ask, trying to keep the longing out of my voice.
Aphrodite sighs. "I could, if you earned another boon from me."
I lean forward eagerly. "How do I do that?"
"You wait and you do whatever I ask, and the next time I offer a prize, you win it fair and square."
I frown. "Why can't you just give me what I want?" If I hadn't been such an idiot at the dance, I'd already have this cast off and be able to see what I can really do with for the cheer team.
"Where would be the fun in that, Lana?" Her eyes flash dangerously. "I thought you of all people would understand the joy of winning fairly."
I swallow my irritation. She's right; I've never held much respect for athletes who reach their goals through illicit means, and if I've never doped or cheated before, why would I start now? I pause, thinking about my freakish running abilities and remembering that Coach Merk was the one who sent me to Aphrodite in the first place. "Does my running..." I pause, not sure if I want to know. "Have I been winning fair and square?"
Aphrodite meets my gaze and nods. "You're gifted, child, not blessed or cursed. As far as I know, you've got no one to thank for your speed but yourself. And perhaps genetics, of course."
My mom. "Did you know my parents before?"
The bell rings, interrupting whatever she's about to say, but I sit there and stare at her expectantly for a moment. Finally, she waves her hand at the door. "I'll excuse you for first period, but you don't want to miss any more classes, or I'll have to bench you this week."
I frown, but I stand up. "Okay," I say, dragging out the word, hoping she'll change her mind and tell me something useful, but she just flicks her hand at the door and grudgingly, I turn to leave her office. I glance back over my shoulder once, and she's watching me intently. A faint gold shimmer surrounds her for a moment, but when I blink, it's just the morning sunlight streaming in through her window, and I close the door behind me, wondering if I've somehow dreamed the entire conversation.
I don't pay attention in any of my classes the rest of the day; I'm too wrapped up thinking about the fact that my cheer coach is an ancient goddess, and that somehow, some way, she was able to erase my most embarrassing moment. Are there other gods and goddesses around? I wonder fleetingly at lunch, scanning the cafeteria for teachers who might be more than they seem. I mean, if Aphrodite is hanging out here, it stands to reason she's brought some of her friends, right?
Kary stabs a piece of lettuce off my tray and sticks it in her mouth, breaking my trance. "What's gotten into you today?"
For a moment, I consider telling her, but then I dismiss the idea. Kary's never been a fan of me being on the cheer team, and even if I could make her believe me, I have a feeling that Coach Cypri's real identity wouldn't impress her; in fact, it would probably be something she'd try to use to convince me to quit the team. I take a bite of my lunch and chew slowly so I don't have to answer right away. "Nothing. Just tired, I guess."
"Where were you all weekend? I kept wondering if you were going to text, but you never did."
I study her. Does she remember the dance that now supposedly didn't happen? Does she remember our fight about it? I shrug. "I stayed home and did homework."
"Lame."
"I know." We eat in silence for a moment, and then I gesture down to my cast. "Maybe I can run again soon." I've been thinking about what Aphrodite said, and I've decided that if there's even the slightest chance I could get a spell or a redo or whatever from her, I'm going to bust my ass to get it.
"Yeah?" Kary's eyebrow's climb up her face. "What did the doctor say?"
I want to tell her that the doctor's opinion matters less than keeping the goddess of love on my good side, but I realize that would make me sound like a freak, so I just shrug again. "Another month or two, but I think I'm healing faster."
"You don't want to hurt yourself again," Kary cautions. "It'll be so much worse if you end up needing surgery."
I shudder at the thought. Surgery can ruin your career, and the idea of going under the knife before I'm even out of high school is terrifying. What if I couldn't run again, ever? I push the fear aside and try to seem confident. "I won't do anything stupid," I tell her, even as part of my brain points out that believing in magic and expecting a goddess to fix my leg might just be the textbook definition of stupid.