72AN: Hey all! This story is just something I came up with while struggling through a writer's block with my other stories. I've been writing angst-ridden stories for so long that the funny side of me started screaming and tearing out her hair from the insanity if it, thus this funny (shallow) little piece. It's modernized Greek mythology-Teen romance fusion that hopefully turns out nice. It'll be crazy, it'll be foolish, and most certainly it'll be exaggerated, but all for the sake of humor.
A note, though - do not take this piece seriously. You won't find profound messages, metaphorical renditions of anguish, or intricate imagery. I will not always stick to conventional rules of grammar. In other words, it is everything Fox Trail and Unsung is not. I am doing this for fun, so spare me the Rudiments of Literature 101 lesson. If you're looking for something serious to read, please go check out my other stories.
War Freaks and Greeks
Chapter One: Half-what?
"…and so the school board has decided that it is no longer appropriate for you to continue your schooling here, since our institution is so obviously incapable of surviving with your presence within a one-mile radius."
This dignified proclamation, coming from a small bald man shivering behind the safety of his huge desk, came across to my befuddled head as something from a comedy act. Though I really shouldn't be laughing in the first place.
The damned principal has just kicked me out of school, and there I am, just sitting there across him snickering like a lunatic.
"You see, Miss Gray, Ben had three broken ribs, plus the damages on his psyche, well, he had just been admitted into a mental facility for trauma treatment..."
Another life, ruined…
"Miss Gray?"
Because some guy tried to smother me with his sloppy mouth…
"Ah…"
Daddy, my dear sweet Daddy, to the rescue, again.
"Miss Gray? Miss Gray! By God are you alright?!"
Alright? I was just kicked out of high school. And he is asking me if I'm alright? Okay, so I was staring at his tie, my left eye twitching precariously, while trying to scrape the skin off my palm with my fingers, but that's a natural reaction, okay? I'm upset! Very upset!
Well, how could I not? Let me ask you, how many sixteen-year-old girls do you know changes high school every few months? Huh? Well now you know one. Me. Typical junior high school girl with a penchant for getting kicked out of school, but not because of my behavior, mind you. I mean, come on, like I would be this upset if I knew I screwed up on purpose? Of course not. But it was someone else's fault. A someone very special to me, someone who loves me so much he just loves sending every guy I talk to to the hospital.
My gorgeous, possessive hunk of a boyfriend?
I wish.
That's precisely the problem. He doesn't want me to have a boyfriend, ever, and swears to protect by all that is mighty that he shall set hell upon any mortal male who even sets his sight on me for more than five seconds.
Yes, I think I've mentioned him before—my dad.
Sweet, overbearing father completely obsessed with keeping his little girl from nasty men. Hey, I know all of you out there has problems with overprotective parents, too, but believe me, my father is downright nasty. He's a powerful man, you seen. Not just usual muscle-and-brawn powerful, but the almighty powerful that one look alone could literally incinerate your internal organs until your insides are reduced to nothing more than thick, slushy goo that you can blow out of your nose…
That powerful? Yep.
Oh, by the way, did I tell you that my dad is none other than Ares, the god of war?
"Miss Gray, you simply have to talk to your father. In the mean time, you may finish this semester until you find another school to transfer to. Is that okay?"
I stand up, and I give the pathetic man a saccharine smile that promises never-ending pain for that one stupid question. And when I say pain, I mean it. Because my temper, something I was ever so famous for, was experiencing some major ruffling at the moment and all I could think about was hauling a gigantic spit ball towards the heavens, aimed for some very pretty, very prissy Fates that have made it a hobby of making my already crappy life the very ass of hell. But then, there's always this annoying man, a suitable replacement for vendetta-pouncing…
"Just fine, Mr. Wickburg. Everything's just dandy."
And outside, the sunny sky begins to rumble with what threatens to be the storm of the century. I immediately rise to my feet and make head-way towards the door. I could already see the warning lights, all a bunch of red, wailing sirens that screamed 'danger! danger! danger!' in an annoying sequence…
I make it to the school halls just in time, and there it was, this shit hole of a school's saving grace: a vending machine. A coffee vending machine, to be precise.
"Come one, come on, come on, oh just bite the goddamn buck…"
I glance at the line windows that gave the students of Wilburn High School a view of the basketball court as they fumbled with their lockers. I wince as a bolt of thunder pounces on the hoop. The freshman who attempted a dunk flies back several meters from the hoop, his body quaking as he falls.
Well, yeah, the day way pretty crappy but life has its sweet moments eh? Yes, I'm evil, but the boy will live, I promise. Trust me I've got experience with these things…
The resounding whoosh as sweet, godly caffeine poured fort from the mouth of heaven filled my cup was a welcome relief. I greedily gulp it down, crumple the leaking cup and tossed it into some kid's open locker with an evil grin.
The next thing I know, sun was shining again. Talk about in the nick of time.
I meandered down the hall, ignoring the curious looks my now ex-schoolmates were throwing me. Ah, yes, Willard High is such a splendid face. Now how do I describe such a wonderful school? Ah, yes, here's the description I was looking for: It's a big heap of concrete some piss-drunk god dropped smack in the middle of California. It crawled with the vilest species imaginable—brainless jocks, teeny-bopping cheerleaders, nerds, and most of all, me. Yes, me.
Wanna know why? Well…
Rrrrrrrring!
Ouch, now that hurt the ears. Lunch bell ring, and just in time to help me explain. Just give it a couple of minutes while the aimless teenagers noisily make their way outside, yes that's it, go find your lockers, I'm right beside them…
The entire student body stops smack in mid-stride and gape at me with a mixture of fear and uncertainty in their eyes.
Wait, is it my hair? I know that my chin-length black hair isn't exactly having its most glamorous day, but I did comb it this morning. Okay, just once, but I have one of those slinky tresses that always slip back in place to frame my oval face even if you take me by the feet, raise my upside down and shake me.
Is it my eyes? Yeah, so I've got some eye bags underneath my round pair of baby blues this morning, but who could blame me. I JUST GOT KICKED OUT OF HIGH SCHOOL FOR THE UMPTEENTH TIME, DUH!
I look down to make sure that my perfectly ordinary outfit of loose denims and fitted sleeveless red shirt were not dripping with some sticky tomato sauce from my mom's spaghetti from this morning. Well, aside from the extra three pounds on my thighs, everything's just fine and dandy, perfectly ordinary.
Except for me, of course. Halves like me are never ordinary.
Aha! That's the problem, isn't it? Yeah! Three points for Gray!
"Sarah? Wh-what are you doing here?" a girl asks timidly. I see her boyfriend clinging to her arms like a boy on his first visit to the dentist.
Aww, how cute! Let your friendly dentist Dr. Gray get her chainsaw so we can get started on your teeth. Yes that's it, sit on the chair and open your big, fat mouth…
Oh yeah, that was how I was looking at him at that precise moment, making the football quarterback shrink further behind his head-cheerleader girlfriend. But hey, I'm not mean, so I shrug and try give the girl's question a decent answer.
"The principal let me stay until the end of the semester so I can get rid of all the boys here. Did Principal Wickburn announce yet that they're turning Willard High into an all-girl's school?"
Everyone freezes up again as if I'd spoken the omen of world annihilation. I smile in satisfaction.
And you ask why everyone keeps staring at me with the fear of god?
Well, it might have something to do with the fact that my reputation here is pretty big. Big enough that every person that even crossed Willard High's lawn knows me by name and remembers my name well enough to avoid me since two weeks ago, when my Daddy appeared out of nowhere and busted my date's ass right after the big dance, leaving him for dead.
Sarah Gray, Death Merchant of Teenage Guys.
I got the nickname after Ben wailed out, "Mr. Gray… Ugh… Stop! Don't! Aaaaah!" while my dad beat the crap out of him on a secluded place behind the basketball gymnasium, forever traumatizing him for life.
Suddenly, everyone knew the reason why every guy I've ever dated always ends up in a comatose or has already moved to a far-away village in Timbuktu to begin life as a sweet potato farmer.
Mr. Gray pummels daughter's date, leaves for dead. A dozen others lay in hospital beds, awaiting recovery from broken bones and post-traumatic retrograde amnesia. Yes, my dad has sense enough to pummel the boys' bones until they remember nothing of that event, thus keeping him out of jail. Either that or he's using uncle Hermes' artificial amnesia potion…
I give my audience a little wave, finally losing interest in scaring the wits out of them. I pout my mouth, and finally drop my favorite bomb. "Hey, anyone want a ride? My dad's picking me up this afternoon."
That did it. Every guy within a mile-long radius disappears like bunny from a hat, and I even see a few jump out the window in hopes of escaping the inevitable doom my existence brought about. The girls, well, they freeze up again, then silently slip away. Can't blame them for not running; who could run in those absurdly high heels?
So everyone pulls their disappearing acts, and I was left alone to ponder my plans for my next big mass scare. Everyone left me alone, and somehow I feel kinda sad that I had no one to eat lunch with.
Except for one.
A tall, lanky guy is standing beside the drinking fountain, smiling like a dope, waving his hand at me while adjusting his horn-rimmed glasses.
Freak alarm going overdrive!
I take it back! I do not feel sad to eat alone! In fact, I love eating alone! That way I can squish my sandwich and lick the mayonnaise off the bread before throwing it from afar towards this nerdy guy with the weird three-inch glasses and abnormally pretty face as he stares at me with his pale blonde hair and dark green eyes, and…
"Eros," I say, trying not to gag. "What do you want?"
"Hey Sarah! You want to eat lunch with me?"
He walks closer, happy grin and all, and I count the seconds until the inevitable happens.
"Oww."
That's the sound of someone tripping over his own shoelaces.
Oh gods, spare me…
I prepare my mouth with some of the vilest insults known to mankind in order to brush this pest away, but my sweet, kind mother's words nag at the back of my head like a dozen little versions of my mother stomping on my nape, waving that scary baking roller of hers while scolding me in her soft, timid voice:
He's your cousin! He's your father's sister's son from when she committed adultery with the blacksmith, you know, Uncle Hephaestus, while she was still married to your father. He's your father's brother. Oh wait, that makes all of them siblings. Anyway, be nice, okay? And try to be patient to him; who knows what will happen on Valentine's Day if Cupid gets electrocuted by one of your thunderbolts? So try not to lose your temper, alright, honey?
Wait.
I can't kill Eros, a.k.a. Cupid, a.k.a. the God of Love and Stupid Heart-Tipped Arrows.
Damn.
"What do you say, huh, Sarah? I got peanut butter jelly and salami sandwich!" Eros announces proudly.
I sigh, nodding morosely, while I grab my own lunch—a decent one—a Tupperware of hors d'ouvers and a mango-melon punch. Yep, quite a spread I got here, huh? Well, my mom is a master chef, you see. That's how she snagged the God of War in the first place.
As I dejectedly follow my happy cousin's trot, who happens to be my father's sister/ex-wife's child of wedlock with another incestuous, adulterous relationship with their brother, I carefully eye his feet. The guy was actually skipping while whistling to the tune of 'Paper Roses.' It was only but expected that he trip a second time, this time due to a paper cup someone left lying on the floor. Oh god, he's a walking disaster. I need to think about something else before I go crazy, anything…
That's how I got around to thinking back to the events that brought me, this controversial half-breed, to be eating lunch with a full god on an ordinary high school in America.
Well, according to my mom, a long time ago the Greek gods were a revered sort, meaning mortals worshipped them and gave them offerings and what-nots. Yeah, I'm sure you know all about that, even I studied them for Literature class last year. Anyway, that was eons ago, and since everything now is so modern and busy and all that, nobody's stupid enough to worship a bunch of immortals anymore just because they, well, don't die. Which is actually logical since they just laze around anyway on their conceited, beautiful butts around Mt. Olympus, eating ambrosia and nectar and all that crap.
Finally, being of no use to the world anyway, every mortal just forgot all about their existence, and all that's left of them are old stories and literature like the Iliad and the Odyssey (eww, gross, I sound like a nerd!). So I guess they all finally got bored up there in the mountain, since they really can't do anything even with their powers if no one believes in them anymore. My old grandpa and resident thunder-throwing king of the gods Zeus could hurl his thunderbolts all day and people would just tune in to the news for CNN's weather report. See how crappy their life has become? Well, yeah, so I really don't blame them for deciding to mingle with the mortals to add some spice into their lives.
And spice it was. One visit of my sweet, innocent mother to a local bar during her vacation in Greece and a couple of tequila shots with a dark, handsome rogue who hit on her, and kaboom, the morning after she's pregnant.
With me, of course.
Yup. That's pretty much it. Betcha you're expecting some cheesy love story about how an innocent lass melts the cold heart of the god of war, makes him fall in love with her and she shows him the wonders of love, and together, they battle against all odds, and in the end, true love triumphs… Nah. My dad still pretty much goes around causing pandemonium, usually in the Middle-Eastern regions of the world since he gets a kick out of blowing up bombs near oil mines. And my mom? She's still sweet and nice and extremely well-adjusted to her life as a single mom doubling as a boutique manager. Although they never married (some god-mortal marriage taboo), we always expect him for dinner on Friday nights, and she seems pretty okay with the fact that the god of war impregnated her, left her to go start some jihad in some Arab country, and visits every week to see me.
Now if you're familiar with Greek mythology you'd know that halves like me, or half-mortals or demi-gods as they put it, are really nothing big. I mean, yeah, there's some pretty popular demi-gods before me like Hercules, the big ancient-times version of Superman, but actually gods having affairs with humans and leaving kids here and there after a romp happens pretty often. Then, so what's so special about me?
Actually, the special one is my mother. All of Olympus fussed over me simply because I'm Ares' first child that he actually acknowledged and gives a damn about because I'm his kid to the only woman who was brave enough to love him despite his abominable temper.
Yes, for some reason, my mother's sweet, soft heart managed to melt a hole on the fabled god of war's iron heart. That, and her heavenly fettuccine alfredo that could beat Mt. Olympus' ambrosia any day. Hurray for mom!
So now, here I am, a half-mortal, half-god watching my cousin Eros, the god of love, heartily munching on a peanut butter salami sandwich while the grotesque filling ooze drown to drip at his white shirt, just over the little tag that said 'Willard High School: education, integrity, dignity'. He's really pretty, actually. I mean, he is the son of the Goddess of Love and Beauty, Aphrodite herself. It can pleasurable to watch him and his pretty face if only you ignore how nerdy he is and the disgusting way he keeps spilling his peanut butter and tripping on just about everything. He notices me watching and gives a big, toothy smile that positively radiates good will to mankind.
Ugh. Somebody save me! Oh no, he's looking at me with love in his eyes! The guy is positively oozing with love! Eww! Save me from the ocean of looooove!
"You want some of my sandwich, Sarah? I had Aunt Hestia make it really big so I can share it with you! You know, if everyone shares, the world would be a better, loving place." And he gives another of his big, toothy grins.
My hands still on its way to stuff a hors d'ouver into my mouth, shaking dangerously, unsteadily.
The clear sky suddenly starts dimming as I hear a thunder roll from afar.
Oh yeah, I guess you've noticed by now. Like most demi-gods, I sorta have some powers, too, if you can call it that. I sorta influence the weather with my mood swings, so…
"I think a tornado is coming!" Some lone student cries as he runs towards the school buildings, probably looking for shelter.
Idiot, there aren't any tornadoes in California.
Oh wait. I just moved in last month, so I live here now.
Wahh! Tornado! Stop the love before I destroy the world! Annoying nerdy god of love! Argh! Nooooooo!
"Need…caffeine…to gasp stop the love!" I instantly make a run for the nearest coffee vending machine, which is to say I ran a marathon being that the nearest vendo is on the second floor, and we were eating very far away on the picnic stands beside the football field.
Damn, someone better give me an award for doing this… gasp Running a mile just to save this shit-hole of a school from flitting off with a huge whirling twister…
Anyway, I'm almost there, panting really badly, my lungs probably starting to fold from my sudden bout of exercise. In fact I could almost see the big, box of godly fluid at the end of the hall, growing nearer as if reaching for me, a beautiful reunion of soul mates…
"Ooof!"
And the next thing I know I'm flying backwards to land smartly on my butt, my dazed eyes finding themselves staring at a pair of black and red Nike Shox VC IIs that were, in my opinion, the coolest shoes in the world.
Silence.
I have just been knocked flat on my behind my a guy with really nice rubber shoes, and all I could do was sit there, staring at his footwear. For lack of better things to do, I raise my head to see the guy's face.
One word: SHAAAAAAAME!
Outside, the winds began to howl as they whistled to the tune of 'Sarah Just Embarrassed/Still Embarrassing Herself Before the Cutest Guy Ever to Walk the Planet.'
I gulp.
A thunderbolt hits the ground and I hear someone scream.