“Andie, will you shut up!”
Cassandra’s hand shot out and grasped Andie’s wrist, red hot, ready to reduce it to ash. To paste. She wanted to burn everyone who chattered in her ear about school, or doing the dishes, or going out to dinner. How she hated the way they filled time. How she hated that they thought they knew her, and all the things they thought mattered.
“Is that supposed to hurt?” Andie asked. “Because honestly, you’ve never had much upper-body strength.”
Cassandra dropped her friend’s hand.
“Sorry,” she said quickly.
“What was that about?”
“Nothing. Let’s just go see Henry.”
“No wait,” Andie said, her brow clouding. “That wasn’t nothing, was it? You were trying to do something to me like you do to them.” Andie rubbed her wrist.
“Oh god, are you okay?” Cassandra held out her hands, but Andie took a step back, and then one big angry step forward.
“It doesn’t work on me, Cassandra,” she half-shouted. “But my fist will work on you just fine if you ever try that again. What are you thinking? I’m your friend!”
“My best friend,” Cassandra half-shouted back. Hot, angry tears backed up in her throat so fast. In a blink she was angry. Angry and sorry all at once.
“That sounds weird when you say it through clenched teeth,” Andie spat.
Cassandra tried to swallow it down, to relax her jaw and breathe cold air, to say anything with a calm, gentle voice. But she didn’t sound much different when she said, “I don’t know how to make it go away.”
They stood eye to eye. For as long as she’d known Andie, Cassandra had never seen her back down from a fight. So she loved Andie a little bit more when she growled and shivered all over, letting it go. Giving in, because Cassandra needed her to.
All at once, the heat in Cassandra disappeared.
“Look, it’ll be okay,” Andie said. “I’d be angry too. I am angry. It’s normal, to feel this way because he’s gone.” She turned to lead the way to Henry’s room, but Cassandra grabbed her and hugged her tight. Andie tensed immediately, never the touchy-feely type, but Cassandra hugged her tighter.
“I really am sorry I tried to murder you,” Cassandra said. A tear slid out of her eye, but Andie only chuckled. She patted Cassandra’s back with stiff fingers.
“I forgive you. Just let go.” She tugged loose and held Cassandra at arms’ length. “Look,” she said. “Don’t worry about it. You’ll … find Aphrodite soon, and burn her up, and then you’ll start to feel better.”
Cassandra watched her walk down the hall. Andie needed to believe that, to think that Aphrodite would somehow fix everything, and the old Cassandra would return. Cassandra used to think so, too. But now it didn’t seem so simple.
*
They’d been at the hospital for the last hour with Cassandra’s parents, trying to figure out if Henry could go home. The doctors said there were problems with his wounds. Cassandra heard one of them whisper that it was almost like they were trying to be infected. Too bad they couldn’t tell the doctors that the bites weren’t really from dogs. That they were from immortal, humanoid wolves owned by the Greek god of war. Would have cleared things right up.
“They’re going to let him go,” Andie said. “He’s a horrible patient. They were half-ready to kick him out yesterday. He keeps asking about Lux and trying to pull out his IV.” She stuffed a handful of M&M’s into her mouth. “I hate hospitals. They smell weird. And I feel like I should trust everyone who works here, but why should I?”
“I wish this hadn’t happened,” Cassandra said suddenly. “We shouldn’t have left you here. I should’ve thought.”
“It would have been hard to get us all out of school,” Andie said. “Besides, we held our own, Cassandra. You should’ve seen us out there. We would have gone down fighting.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better.”