Free Alex Anderson The Last Son of Zeus by Sevan Paris Page A

Kumbaya , had a wonderful time."
     
    Sophie held up a hand. "Okay, okay. If he comes back, let me know."
     
    "I will, I will let you know. I promise."
     
    She stood up. "Dinner tomorrow night? We could go to the Italian place."
     
    "Yeah, sounds good."
     
    She hugged him. Normally, he would pull away, but this time he let her. She needed the hug, and, on some level, Alex needed it too. He let his cheek sink into her neck. The soapy smell he had remembered since childhood was still there.
     
    Alex looked out the window and heard thunder in the distance.

BOOK FOURTEEN
    THE BORROWED TAMPON
     
     
    Fiona Avery looked in the mirror of the Fite Funeral Home's bathroom. Her sad face looked passable, but then again, who would really judge?
     
    She could run up the aisles of Jason and Jennifer Avery's viewing doing naked cartwheels and still have a perfectly legitimate, if not socially acceptable, reason for doing so.
     
    Her parents were dead.
     
    Maybe she should cry.
     
    Fiona squinted her eyes and raised her cheeks. She thought about all of the awful things she had witnessed during her entire lifetime.
     
    Her right eye managed to turn a little red.
     
    "Shit."
     
    She looked at her cell phone. She hadn't been to school for two days and hadn't tried to call Alex or Bos. She had no idea if they were coming, but she hoped. It would make the emotions--or lack thereof--easier to deal with somehow.
     
    Thinking of Alex made Fiona's face turn red. Surprised, she looked in the mirror again and thought of Alex Anderson burning to death while somebody forced his mother to watch.
     
    Nothing.
     
    Why can't I fucking cry? They will expect me to cry. I can't just okey-dokey my way out of this.
     
    Maybe cartwheels weren't such a bad idea.
     
    Aunt Nikki knocked on the door. "Honey, are you okay?"
     
    "Yeah, I'm fine. How many people are here?"
     
    "I think everybody. But...don't... It's okay if you need more time."
     
    Fiona sighed. She had to get this over with. She wondered if people ever thought about how lucky they were to have regular emotions.
     
    "No, I'm ready." She rubbed water in her eyes and went to greet people at her parents' coffins.
     
    ~ * ~
     
    "Shit!" Helen DeTroy threw her gym bag on the locker room floor.
     
    Her friend, Justine Wimber , turned away from the mirror. She was taking out her earrings. "Problem?"
     
    Helen looked at her. "Do you have any pads?"
     
    "Got some tampons."
     
    Helen shook her head. Slut .
     
    Only she and Justine remained in the locker room. The other cheerleaders were already on the bus, ready to leave for today's competition.
     
    In short, it was either the fucking tampon or nothing.
     
    Helen held her hand out. "All right, gimmie it."
     
    Justine sighed and fished one out of her gym bag. "Why do you think girls that use these things are sluts?"
     
    Helen unwrapped it. "Why do you think they aren't?"
     
    "Just hurry. We're late," Justine hurried out.
     
    Helen walked into a stall and shut the door behind her. She pulled her skirt down, sat on the toilet and looked at the tampon in her hand. It starred back, mocking her. Helen winced, spread her legs and started putting it in...
     
    Then she heard the bathroom door slam.
     
    She yelped and nearly fell off the toilet.
     
    The sound of a woman's heels echoed through the locker room. Nobody should be in here wearing heels. All of the teachers had gone home for the day and her coach was in sneakers.
     
    The sound came closer and closer. The heels stopped underneath the stall door and faced her. They looked old. Not old-old, but, like, fashion old.
     
    "Can...I help you, old heel wearing person?"
     
    That's when the stall door was ripped off its hinges.
     
    Helen screamed and fell off the toilet. She back peddled into the space between the tank and the wall.
     
    A woman in her mid-forties threw the stall door to the side. "I think you'll do."
     
    She stepped into the stall.
     
    Helen tried to