Eros chimed in. “Helen, he has a point. Cranus despises us as it is. If a mortal got hurt in our home and the Council found out, it’d be game over.”
“You see, Helen, as well as being a musical virtuoso, I’m a skilled clairvoyant,” Apollo said, folding his arms. “And those two –” he pointed to a couple of Isaac’s friends, who were now sitting cross-legged on the floor “– were minutes away from getting into a punch-up.”
“Fine,” I muttered. Apollo may have saved us from certain punishment, but he’d killed my party. Not only that, but my chance to find Marco slipped further away by the minute. I don’t know much about boys, but surely he wouldn’t stick around after I ran away mid-kiss?
“You’re welcome. Now if you’ll excuse me, my fans await,” Apollo said, walking back to the living room. He picked up his guitar. “My next tune is called ‘Sound of the Sirens’. Peep my mixtape on SoundCloud: I’m DJ_Sunny.”
I hated to admit it, but Apollo did the right thing. By the time he’d finished his guitar set, the crowd was so chilled that they practically floated out of the house. No noise, and hardly any mess. It was a miracle.
As I washed my face and brushed my teeth, my head swam with the thought of Marco (well, his face, hands and lips). The kiss couldn’t have lasted longer than 7.5 seconds, but I’d relived the memory millions of times. My last “kiss” was in Year 2 and, much like this one, came out of nowhere. But the similarity starts and ends there, let me tell you. Duncan Prior’s whelk-like kiss in the playground couldn’t compare to Marco’s.
I gargled mouthwash, spat it out and stared at myself in the bathroom mirror. I wasn’t sure what I was looking for. Some sort of transformation that would show the world that I, Helen Thomas, had lost my snog-virginity, maybe? But I didn’t look any different.
While the memory was fresh in my mind (it might have faded by the morning!), I needed to tell Mum. I went to my room and got out the shoebox tucked away in my wardrobe. I was too tired to write a full letter, but I had to scribble something down before bed:
Dear Mum,
Guess what?! I had my first kiss tonight!!!
His name is Marco, I think he’s from somewhere in Europe and his face is so pretty it makes me drool a little.
Wherever you are, please cross your fingers that I’ll see him again.
Love for ever,
Helen xxx
FIFTEEN
“Rise and shine!” Someone was whispering in my ear and shaking me awake. I looked up to find Eros’s face staring down at me.
I groaned and rolled over on the sofa. I wasn’t in the mood for Eros’s chirpiness. Not at this hour.
“If I were you, I’d get up now and sort the house out before Father returns. And I come with treats,” he said with a wink (unlike 99% of men, Eros can wink without looking creepy or corny).
Now I was awake. I woke up my friends with the promise of milky coffee and glazed doughnuts.
“Your cousin’s so thoughtful, Hels,” Daphne said.
“And fit too,” Noor whispered.
“What’s his name again?” Yasmin asked whilst reaching for her second doughnut.
“It’s Eros. Strange, right?” I said in response to the expression on their faces. “My family has this thing for old-school Greek names. I got off lightly with Helen!”
“Hels, I meant to ask!” Daphne shrieked. “How did it go with Garden Hottie last night?”
Noor’s eyes widened. “Oh yeah! Did you speak to him?”
I smiled and felt a blush creeping over my face. “I did more than speak to him.”
“Shut. The. Front. Door. Tell us everything,” Yasmin said.
I told my friends about last night’s encounter with Marco. They wanted every tiny detail, and telling them all about it was nearly as fun as the real thing.
“Helen, this is ridiculously exciting,” said Yasmin. “Most people have their first kiss behind the bike shed at school. But yours? With a mystery guy under fireworks at the stroke of midnight.”
Noor clutched her chest. “I know, right? It almost makes my cold, icy heart believe in the power of love.”
I talked about Marco while we cleaned up the last of the party debris – paper plates, cups, that sort of thing.
“So what I don’t understand is, why didn’t he ask for your number?” Daphne asked, wiping the kitchen table.
“Maybe his phone isn’t registered in this country yet. He’s been travelling all around Europe, remember?” I said.
Daphne didn’t stop there with the questions. Where was he from? How long was he in London? How did he find out about the party?
I didn’t even know the answers to these basic questions. In the space of our conversation, Marco had turned from sexy and mysterious to shady and secretive. My brain was such a bag of mush last night that I didn’t think to ask any useful questions. I put all my energy into not saying anything stupid.
My romantic high slowly slipped away. What’s the point of meeting a gorgeous stranger at a New Year’s Eve party if you don’t have so much as an Instagram page to show your squad?
“It sounds like I made him up, doesn’t it?” I said.
“I know you didn’t make him up,” said Daphne, rolling her eyes. “I saw him looking at you! It’s just a shame that—”
The front door clicked and slammed. We froze.
Busted.
SIXTEEN
As soon as I heard the click of high heels against the hallway floor I knew it wasn’t Dad in his leather loafers. I never thought I’d be so relieved to see Aphrodite. She strolled into the kitchen, a fur coat hanging from her shoulders and diamonds dangling from her ears. She looked like a movie star. My friends were dazzled into silence.
Aphrodite took a bottle of water from the fridge. “I see you have company, Helen. Does Father know about this?”
I folded my arms. “He knows I had a few friends over last night, yes,” I said. I hoped that detecting lies wasn’t one of her powers.
Aphrodite’s lips curled into a cruel smile. She didn’t believe a word of it.
Noor cleared her throat and stepped over the bin bags. “Um, I just wanted to say thanks for the make-up. I really want to be a make-up artist when I grow up,” she said. “It’s dead exciting to meet a real one like you!”
Aphrodite kicked a plastic cup at her feet. “You missed something.” I glared at her, and hoped Noor wasn’t too upset at her rude dismissal.
As she walked out of the kitchen, dress trailing behind her, she turned around and looked me dead in the eye.
“My room had better be untouched, or else,” she hissed.
Once she was out of sight, I turned around. “She’s the worst,” I mouthed to the girls.
“I guess when you look like that, you don’t have to have manners,” Yasmin said.
“At least it wasn’t your dad,” Daphne said.
“I know, right?” Noor said. “I was ready to backflip out the kitchen window.”
A few hours later, my friends had left, and Dad still wasn’t home. Eros helped me to remove any traces of illicit activity in his office, and make sure Dad’s bookshelf of precious junk was in order. I put the immortal junk back where I found it, apart from the arrows – Eros was more than happy to be reunited with those (“My babies! I wondered where they went”).