Each time Helen came across one of these emotionally charged items, she noticed that either Hector or Orion would crack a joke or do something goofy to snap her out of it. She knew what they were up to, but that only made their lame attempts to cheer her up all the more touching.
They knew it wasn’t really about losing a bunch of stuff. When Orion and Hector were goofing off to distract her, she couldn’t think too much about what was really bothering her—that her father didn’t seem to be getting better. Losing the pictures, the macaroni sculpture, and the hideous attempt at pottery were nothing compared to the fear she felt when she pictured her father lying unconscious in a bed. Why couldn’t he wake up?
She wanted to say something to them both, to thank them for helping her get through this, but she knew enough about these two guys to keep her mouth shut. Hector would only tease her if she got all sincere on him, and Orion already knew how grateful she was because he could see right through her—literally. So Helen mentally filed away the hours they spent digging through her mugged childhood, knowing that she could never truly repay them for what they did for her.
“So . . . Hector’s going to take the truck back,” Orion said, interrupting Helen’s sad thoughts. “By himself.”
“Huh?” Helen said blankly. “No. Hector shouldn’t drive. He can’t be seen.”
“I won’t be. It’s too dark now. No one will be able to recognize me,” Hector said. “And I can blur myself a bit if I hit onc
oming lights—which I probably won’t.”
Helen looked around and noticed that he was right. At some point when she wasn’t paying attention, the sun had set. It was nighttime, and no one was on the streets to begin with. Not many people had ventured out of their houses since the riots. Nantucket Island had been like a ghost town for days now.
“Okay, I guess you’re right. Thanks for helping me out today,” Helen said to Hector, giving him a hug. She stopped herself before she got all mushy and said something he would find unforgivably sentimental.
“Have fun tonight, Princess.” Hector replied, his voice uncommonly soft as he released her. He looked at Orion and nodded once, and then turned to leave without one joke or snide remark.
Helen took Orion’s hand shyly, knowing that Hector had just given them the chaperone’s equivalent of a Hergie hall pass. No matter what the two of them did that night, they could be assured that Hector wouldn’t put them in detention for it.
“So,” she said, looking up at Orion. Her throat was suddenly dry and she swallowed. “You said you wanted to show me something?”
“Yeah,” he replied, biting his lower lip like he was regretting it. “You’ve had a rough day, though. And what I want to show you isn’t exactly uplifting.”
“Well, now you have to show me,” Helen said, throwing an arm out wide to include the whole store. “I can’t be the only one whose life is a total bummer.”
Orion laughed, flashing his bright, sharp teeth. He tugged Helen close, holding her against his chest. The laugh quickly disappeared and he kissed her temple, barely brushing her brow with his lower lip as his mood changed. A part of Helen was aware that he had pulled her close for two reasons. The first was that he sincerely wanted to hold her, but mostly he was dong it so she couldn’t see what was going on inside his heart.
“Trust me. You aren’t the only one whose life is a total bummer,” he whispered unevenly.
“So show me.” Helen pulled back and looked him in the eye. “We’ve been to hell and back together, Orion. What could be harder to deal with than that?”
The corners of Orion’s lovely mouth turned up in a wistful smile. “Family,” he replied. Helen remembered how sad Orion got every time someone mentioned his father, Daedalus. She knew there was a deep, dark story there.
“Ah. Your father.”
“No,” he said, releasing her and looking away anxiously. “Maybe this is a bad idea.”
“Hey, have you ever been flying?” she asked quickly. Orion gave her a puzzled look, like he was totally thrown, which was exactly Helen’s intention. “Not in a plane, I mean,” she clarified. “Have you ever flown like I do?”
“No. Never.”
“Want to?”
“This is the craziest effing thing I’ve ever felt!” Orion giggled.
“Shhh,” Helen admonished, eyes closed. “Quit moving around. You’re like, three of Claire.” She was trying not to smile at the sound of utter glee in Orion’s voice, but he was making that almost impossible. He was adorable when he got excited. She needed to distract him so she could focus. “Is anyone coming?”
Orion took a moment to look up and down the alley behind the News Store where they were standing with their arms around each other. “We’re good,” he said.
Helen felt his breath on her forehead as he returned his gaze to her down-tilted head and closed eyes. It was warm and sweet, and it skipped a bit as he let it out in excitement. She nearly had the full mass of him in her mind—the exact proportion of skin, blood, and bone that was perpetually falling toward the center of the Earth. She reached out with that other sense of hers, the thing that released gravity, and enlarged it until it slipped around Orion’s big body.
“That tickles!” he gasped, his arms around her waist squeezing her tight.
“Shhh!” she repeated, concentrating hard. And then she felt it. His body suddenly clicked into place in her mind. “Gotcha,” she whispered triumphantly.
Releasing his gravity was effortless once she had the shape and weight of him figured out. She opened her eyes so she could watch Orion’s face as they soared up into the air and hovered among clouds that glowed white-violet with starlight. Orion had one of those faces that constantly surprised her. Just when she thought she was getting accustomed to how blindingly beautiful he was, she’d see a new expression on his face, and a huge part of her nervous system would seize up.