Just go with me on this.
So technically a demigod is a half god. To become a demigod you typically have one human parent and one godparent. I haven’t met his parents, so I can’t be sure of this. His sister is certainly blessed with many talents and good looks, but she doesn’t seem to have his magnetic pull.
I Google search: How to protect yourself from a demigod.
The first article it pulls up is how to protect yourself on Facebook.
Not what I was looking for, but I peruse this article for a minute.
And just what I thought. There is nothing in there about not allowing friends to tag you in potentially damaging photos that will cause all sorts of shit with girls like Whitney. Worthless article.
Then I find an article on ways to protect yourself if you are a demigod. The person who wrote this article apparently is one (or thinks he is) and says that he and most demigods are not popular, and that this is so they can hide from the monsters, centaurs, and things that try to hunt them.
Obviously, this person needs to get a life.
He does, however, raise an interesting point: most gods are given a weapon by their parent.
But I already know that they gave Aiden his mouth. That smile. Those perfect teeth. That silky smooth voice. Those soft, amazing, and capable-of-producing-nuclear-energy lips.
Sigh.
Okay, so then I come upon this: Take this quiz to find out which of the gods is your parent.
Obviously, I have to answer the questions for him. It could be he doesn’t even know he is a demigod yet, and is just testing his newfound powers out on me.
God help me if he ever discovers their true potential.
So, questions.
And then, the decision. Drum roll, please. Dun, dun, dun, dahhhh.
Your mother is the gorgeous Aphrodite. She is the goddess of love and, more importantly, seduction. People can’t help but to fall in love with you. You are probably very good looking. You are also very good at seducing the opposite sex with your god-like charm. But use this trait wisely. Heartbreak is the most painful of wounds. But you don’t really care because you are the one breaking hearts.
See! See what I’m up against here?
So then I search: How to resist a demigod.
Get no answers.
How to resist a god.
No real answers. And I’m pretty sure Google just laughed at me.
How to resist Aphrodite.
Maybe if I know how to resist her, I can use that on her son.
So here’s the scoop on Aphrodite. Apparently when she wore her golden Spanx, no god or mortal could resist her. And, even when she didn’t wear them, there were only three gods that could resist her and they were all apparently virgins.
There goes what little hope I had.
Also, I just read the story of Aphrodite, and she was one mean, lying, slutty bitch. So she gets herself all gorgeous, then meets this guy. He, of course, thinking she’s too hot to be mortal, asks if she’s a god. She lies to this guy, tells him that she’s just a maiden, talks him into taking her back to his place, seduces him, purposely gets pregnant, then tells him she’s a god, that she’s going to name their son something that translates to awful, and proceeds to tell him he’s beneath her, even though he is hot and nice. Later she has something to do with the Trojan war that causes a bunch of people to die, and then she has an affair with some god named Ares, but they get caught and were going to be punished, but she maybe got out of it by promising to sleep with Hermes.
So, basically, if you ask me, this goddess should not be the goddess of love!
She is obviously the goddess of hooking up and then turning against you. She’s mean!
Shouldn’t the goddess of love be all lovey and beautiful and sweet?
So the verdict: if this is half of what I’m up against, I am definitely screwed.
And speaking of screwed. Before my brain can stop them, my fingers have typed Cush’s name into Facebook and pulled up his profile. He has a new profile picture. One of him and his dad. He’s smiling so big I can see his dimples. His hair is buzzed again, but his cheeks look freshly shaven. I reach out and touch his face on the screen.
I feel like I’m living two separate lives again.
I forgave Cush for the things he said to me after he got drugged. Will he be able to forgive me for this?
I click the message button and start typing.
I tell him about the boots. About what really happened at the party. About where I am. About Brooklyn. About my family. About how Vincent followed him to the pizza party. I ask him what they were celebrating. And, most importantly, I ask him to forgive me.
My finger hovers over the send button.
I close my eyes.
Images, voices, and feelings all run through my mind.
I open my eyes and delete the message.
Wednesday, September 7th
We talk.
Ceramics