“No, this one’s almost full. And I have to drive home later.”
She looked disappointed, and put her hand on his arm. “My parents are out of town. You don’t have to drive home. You could stay.”
Snickers and victorious whispers broke out behind him. He could stay at Ariel’s house. Probably in her room. Likely in her bed. He looked across the party to where Andie was taking a shot of something. She was going to need him, before the night was over.
“No, I think I’d better stay sober. Get Andie home safe.”
Ariel shrugged, surprised, and walked away.
That might be it. The end of his phone calls from Ariel Moreau.
Henry looked at Andie and realized that he didn’t care.
*
In the end, Andie had a better time than he did. Maybe too good a time, judging from the way she stumbled on the walk back to the Mustang.
“My mom’s going to kill me if I wake up hungover tomorrow. She’ll kill me tonight if she’s still up. Whoops—”
She stumbled again. Henry caught her and threw her arm around his shoulders.
“You can stay at our place if you want. Just text her and let her know. She probably won’t mind.”
“Stay? At your place? Your parents won’t care?”
“You’ve been staying over at our house since you were seven.” They reached the car and he maneuvered her toward the passenger side. It took some doing, but he got her in and managed to drive them both home.
When they got to his house, it was dark. His parents hadn’t even left the outside lights on. They were home, though, inside sleeping—or at least pretending to. He did his best to be quiet going in, but Lux was ecstatic to find not one but two family members to greet, and his snuffling nose in the entryway made it a special chore to get Andie out of her shoes and jacket.
“Wait,” she said when they stood before the open door of Cassandra’s bedroom. “I don’t think I want to go in there.”
“Andie. It’s late.” But he couldn’t say he blamed her. The room looked darker than dark, and deserted. The air inside didn’t feel like it belonged to the rest of the house anymore.
“Can I sleep in your room?” she asked, then wrinkled her nose. “Your bed’s not super dirty, is it?”
“It won’t be unless you barf in it.”
He brought her into his room and closed the door behind the dog, who looked perplexed by their extra company. Andie wasted no time getting under his blankets. He was just about to go to his closet for a sleeping bag to put on the floor when she moved toward the wall and turned the covers down.
“Okay,” he said, and shut the lights off. His bed had never creaked as loud and gracelessly as it did when he got in beside her. But they lay back and listened to Lux turn in a circle before he sacked out on the floor.
“Henry?”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t want you to fight Achilles.”
He was about to say me neither when she threw her arm over his chest and pulled him close.
“I’m scared of it,” she whispered, and he wrapped his arms around her and held her tight.
“It’s okay,” he said.
Sure it was. He’d have some magic shield and he’d stare down that blond, god-obsessed monster just like he did before. Just like it happened before. Only this time he wouldn’t let Andie be there to see it. He didn’t know how Hector could have done it back then, how he could have let her see it and carry the sight with her forever afterward.
*