Arrows (18 page)

“Thank you, Aaryn,” Juliette announced sternly, giving Karma the eye.

A couple of girls began whispering when we passed them, and in the background the next competitor’s music was playing.

“I’m not mad at you,” Karma said. Her voice was muffled as she spoke against my chest.

“You nailed your pointe solo,” Juliette said. “I’m not going to sugarcoat the fact that Aaryn fell on top of you onstage—but maybe that won’t matter.”

“They won’t dock her for my mistake, will they? They must take into account that I’m not the one applying for the scholarship, right?”

Juliette’s mouth pressed together. “Let’s get back to the hotel.”

Karma felt frozen in my arms, like everything that had just happened was reaching into her, the way water turns to ice. The three of us strode forward with our heads high, though there was no way either of them felt confident. At the double doors, Juliette stood back, allowing Karma and me to move into the narrow entry, which was one of the few quiet areas in the whole place—dancers on one side of the glass, the city on the other.

“You can put me down now,” Karma said. I brought her outside and pulled her close.

“No.”

The sound of traffic helped create space from the competition, almost like it was a thing we could literally leave behind us. But the truth was, none of us could.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I really screwed up. I don’t know what happened.” Her head rubbed against me, her bun coming more undone. My T-shirt felt damp.

She was crying.

Sorry wasn’t enough for what I’d done to her life. A taxi hurtled past, blaring its horn. I tried not to shudder, but I knew. The lead arrow was Karma’s chance for a happy ending. My throat tightened, but I couldn’t break down, not here. Not when she needed me to be strong.

For me there was only goodbye.

—

“I’m taking Nell for a walk in the lobby,” Karma said. Her ankle had been iced, then wrapped. Just a minor sprain, according to the nurse practitioner the hotel had called. Karma held Nell’s face to her neck, but she bucked and cried. Karma looked like she wanted to join her.

“I’ll come, too,” I said.

Peyton and Monique exchanged a look. I stood from the hotel chair in the corner of Juliette’s suite, the one that had seemed like a good place to hide. The girls had all acted like everything was fine when we got to the hotel, chattering a lot, making small talk. Still. The reality of what I’d done onstage lurked in the room, like me in that chair.

Juliette was in the bathroom with a curling iron in one hand, surrounded by the scent of really strong perfume. “Don’t forget, we’re leaving in thirty minutes.”

“I know. I think a walk will calm her down.”

Karma had the stroller handle in one hand, a diaper bag hooked over her shoulder, and a squirming baby against her chest. Her hair had loosened, and her eyes were smudged from crying earlier.

My stomach flipped.

“Do you want
me
to help?” Peyton asked, some silent best friend exchange going on between them.

Karma shook her head. “You deserve a break. You’re the best for watching her today.”

Peyton kissed Nell’s bright red cheek as I coaxed Karma into handing me the diaper bag. “I’ve got a key,” I said.

The hallway felt small as we wound our way to the elevator. Nell stopped crying, which surprisingly only sharpened the awkward mood. After a few seconds of hearing nothing but the sound of our footsteps on carpet, I chuckled.

“You were right,” I said. Nell focused on me with wide eyes, drawn by my voice. “She just needed a walk.”

“Mm-hmm.”

I swallowed and stood with my arm against the elevator door so Karma could pass, then took my place on the opposite side of the car as the display inched down floor by floor. The elevator chimed.

“After you,” I said.

Karma fit Nell into the stroller, adjusted the straps, and tucked a blanket over her.

I shoved the diaper bag into the storage pocket. “I’ll push.”

“I can do it.”

“I know you can. Let me help you.” I eased the stroller back and forth. “There’s no point in pretending you’re not mad.”

“I’m not mad.” She frowned. “I just wanted everything to be perfect.”

“Let me make it up to you.” I glanced at the hotel exit, which was covered in vintage scrollwork, everything all fancy. “Let’s go on an adventure.”

Karma smiled the first real smile I’d seen in hours. “An adventure? No, we can’t. Where?”

“I want to treat you—you and Nell. Let’s get out there and see what we find.”

“We can’t! The girls are waiting, remember? We’re all going to dinner.”

“I want to do something nice for you. Just us.”

Karma looked at me like I’d read her mind. “I’m so tired of pretending everything’s great. I’m dreading that dinner.”

“Send them a text. Tell them we’re running away but will be back in a couple of hours.”

After a second of hesitation, Karma reached for her phone.

—

The city at night was noisy with traffic, couples going to dinner, groups of girls darting across the street to beat the crosswalk. Somewhere in the distance a band was playing. Nell had zonked out, which was adorable, her fist curled alongside her mouth.

“Sometimes I wish someone would cover me up with a blanket and push me around,” Karma said.

“Sign me up.”

She smiled as we walked along. “I love the city.”

“Me too.”

“Have you ever been to New York?”

“No. Never,” I said.

“You
have
to go there sometime. It’s my favorite place in the whole world. Well, so far. I have a lot I want to see.”

“Like what?”

“Ireland. London. There are probably ten places on my list.”

“Your list?”

Karma nudged my arm and pointed to Chéri Café. “My bucket list. Look, they have outdoor seating.”

“What’s a bucket list?”

We stopped in front of the tall windows with white lettering arced in the center. “You know, a list of things I want to do before I die. You’ve never heard of a bucket list?”

“No.” The fact that I wouldn’t be mortal much longer seemed like an unnecessary detail. “Table for two?” I asked the waiter. Glanced at Nell. “And a stroller?”

We were the only couple at the café with a baby. The dining area outside was really romantic, with candles on every table and tall outdoor heaters running for warmth. There was a guy playing acoustic guitar in the corner.

“This is perfect, thank you,” Karma told the waiter, who held the chair for her. He handed us our menus and we sat down, scanning our options.

“I should have a bucket list,” I said. “I want to experience life to the fullest.”

While I still can.

I tried not to let the sad feeling creep up. Too late. Tek could come back anytime. I’d break her enchantment, insert the chip, done. I’d be gone.

I drank my glass of ice water fast, spilling a little down my shirt. Karma rummaged for something in the diaper bag, grimacing as Nell began to fuss. She spent the next three minutes rocking the stroller until she fell asleep.

“Okay,” she said, but not too loud, a pen in her hand. “Let’s do this.” She flattened a napkin. “Your bucket list. You tell me what to write down and I’ll make it official.” Her face looked amazing by candlelight.

“Okay.” I paused. “I don’t know.”

“Just think of something easy, like, hmmm—take shots of tequila until you puke.”

“Wow.”

“Already checked off ?”

“I don’t drink tequila.”

She bit the end of the pen. “Rumple Minze, then?”

“Sometimes, I swear, you speak a different language than me.”

“Sí, señor.”

“Are you ready to order?” The waiter had returned. He flipped up his pad.

“Oh, sorry, we haven’t looked at the menu yet,” Karma said.

He seemed used to this. “Take your time.”

We began to scan the selections, the menu blocking her face. “What’s fried fromages?” I said, holding my finger to the spot.

“Oh, that’s just a fancy word for cheese.”

“Fried cheese?”

“Cheese curds.”

“What?”

The menu lowered four inches. “You’ve never had cheese curds?”

“No.”

She dropped the menu and wrote
eat cheese curds
on the napkin. She held it up. “You can cross something off tonight!”

“Okay.” The list felt a little silly—but a little awesome, too. “I want to try red wine.”

“Gross.” She watched me, then shrugged and added a second bullet point.

“I just want to try it.” Would it taste different from the wine on Olympus? The sharp, warming drink was a tradition after a day on Earth as a cupid. Being human now, it felt like something I had to compare.

“Well, you’re on your own with that one.” She nodded to the stroller.

Wine was the first thing I requested when the waiter returned. He smiled at Nell, then me, and walked off with our order. Fried fromages, calamari, which was something from Karma’s bucket list, and pesto fries.

She squeezed my arm. “I can’t believe he didn’t card you!”

“Card me?”

“You know, make sure you’re twenty-one. I guess he thinks you’re old.”

“What’s so great about being twenty-one?”

Her eyebrow went up. “It’s the legal drinking age?”

“Oh.” I shrugged and turned my attention to the list. “What are some things we could do around Lakefield for my bucket list? Will you go to some places with me?”

Karma took a long sip of water. “I don’t know.”

“More adventures?”

“Danny wouldn’t like it.” She motioned her hand between us. “You and me, spending time together?”

“I get it.”

“I can’t do that to him.”

“Maybe he doesn’t have to know.”

“I’m not going to lie to him. I hate liars.”

Guilt worked into my stomach, and not just because of how loyal she was to him. She hated liars yet was surrounded by them.

After a few seconds she leaned toward me. “Well, like what kind of things?”

I grinned. “How about—I want to cook a nice dinner for us. Fried fromages or something. Something fancy.”

“There’s nothing fancy about cheese curds.”

“Well, we’ll look up some recipes, then. Nell can come, too.”

Karma smiled and wrote down the idea. “Okay.”

My brain was really working now, taking things too far, things she’d never agree to, like
kiss under the stars
and
spend a whole night holding each other.
I cleared my throat. “I want to go camping. In a tent.”

The pen dropped. “I can’t stay overnight in a tent with you,” she said. “That’s crossing the friendship line. We have to agree not to plan things that are crossing the line.”

“A bonfire?”

“Fine.”

The ink made it official.

“A party at the studio.”

“Hmmm?”

“I want to have a party with everyone—Juliette, the other students, my landlord; Danny can come if he wants—everyone.”

The waiter returned with my wine and Karma’s latte. We thanked him. From the look on Karma’s face, she really liked the party idea.

“A celebration,” she said.

“Yeah.”
A goodbye.

I inhaled so deep, I felt my lungs would burst. Ugh. The thought of going home was different than I’d expected, but there was no point in being sad. I had to go home, and she had to move on with her life. She’d spent more than a year loving Danny—a year chasing him—and the idea of finally giving her life back felt amazing. I tried my wine. Closed my eyes.

“You like it?” she asked.

I nodded. The tingle inside my mouth spread all the way to my stomach. “Cheers.”

We clinked, her coffee mug, my wineglass, and shared a second taste.

“Wait, so you’ve never been to a bonfire or a party before?” she asked.

I shook my head. “No bonfire. I’ve been to parties before, though. Just not with you.” I smiled.

“You’ve had a weird life.”

I finished the wine, feeling too warm. “I might have to move soon.”

Her cup stopped at her chin. A woman at the table next to us laughed loudly, but Karma kept her eyes on me. “What do you mean?” Her lips parted. “Why would you do that? You just got here.”

My pulse jumped. “Well, I don’t have a job now,” I said. She folded her hands and leaned her mouth against them. “So my dad asked me to move back to Florida. Work with him. We’ve, uh, been talking about it.”

Karma traced the handle on her cup over and over. Our food arrived, which gave us something to do besides sulk.

I popped a cheese curd into my mouth. “Wow.”

“Wisconsin’s famous for them,” Karma said. Her tone was flat.

“Are you okay?”

“I guess.”

“I think we’ve got a good list there.” Maybe mentioning the party would put her in a better mood.

“No, I guess—just no, I’m not okay. I can’t believe you’re moving. I know there aren’t many jobs in Lakefield, but there must be something, somewhere. What kind of career do you want, anyway?”

“Karma.” I stopped chewing, the wine suggesting I say things that I knew I shouldn’t. Instead of telling her we could never be together, I placed my hand over hers. Her eyes darted to meet mine. Soft knuckles and wrist. A shiver went through me. She didn’t pull away. “I have to go. You’re with Danny. I don’t have a future in Lakefield.”

The musician picked at the strings of his guitar. After thinking about what I’d said, Karma turned her hand over and squeezed. “I’ll really miss you.” She said this with a short nod, blinking fast, and took her hand back. She turned to the music.

A plan I could partly blame on that glass of wine was starting to come together, a really, really far-fetched idea. Blackout lasted three months. Failed gods were sent there as humans with no memory of their former lives. No one really knew how it worked, but I did know the humans were rehabilitated—given new identities, given a trade, and prepared for release into society.

If I waited until the last day of my mission to shoot Karma with the lead arrow—day ninety—and failed my mission before I could use Tek’s chip…

“What if I come back to Lakefield three months after I move?” I blurted out. “Would you still be my friend?”