paper hang down from the wooden beams on the ceiling and tiny twinkling lights flash, bordering the walls. A massive banner is plastered above the fireplace that reads; Happy Birthday, Persephone.” On the last step, I search the faces in the crowd for mom. Then all of sudden, I stumble back, catching myself by gripping the solid oak rails as Dionysius’s bulging belly rams into my hip. “Whoa!” I straighten myself out, catching my balance.
He turns to face me, a wide smile on his lips and a twinkle in his brown eyes. “Oh, Persephoonnee!” he slurs. Dionysius wobbles closer and breathes heavily. His breath smells musty and sweet, like fermented grapes. He’s drunk. He raises his right hand, clutching a half-empty green bottle of wine. “Care for a drink, birrrthday girrrl,” he mumbles.
“No thanks,” I say politely. I’ve never been much of a drinker.
He brings the bottle to his lips. “Great. More for me.”
As I weave through the crowd I glimpse at him over my shoulder as he’s stumbles, falling face first into the floor. He’s out cold. A wave of relief flushes through me. Dionysius is overly obnoxious when he’s drunk and I’m pretty sure everyone at this party will be thrilled to learn he’s cashed in early.
Several people wish me a “Happy Birthday” as I continue pushing through the crowd. I assume mom will be in the kitchen, so I head in that direction, but I stop when I feel someone tug on my arm. I try to turn, but I’m smooshed in between Artemis and Hestia. They are both engaged in deep discussions and despite me pushing on them they barely move. I feel like a hamburger patty, smashed between two buns.
Ketchup, cheese and pickles, anyone?
I’m jolted forward, yanked out of my Persephone sandwich and a pair of steel grey eyes rest on me. “Athena!” I squeal and throw myself into her open arms.
“Happy birthday!” she shouts over the noise. Her golden hair is slicked back into a ponytail and she beams as she stands up straight.
“Where have you been?” I lean in close to her, shouting, “It’s been ages!”
“You know, lending my wisdom to those who need it!”
I stifle a glance around the room. “Does mom know you’re here?”
“Yeah! I saw her when I first arrived. I think she’s with Hera in the kitchen. I thought it would be best if I kept my distance!”
Eros shoves his way through the crowd. His pouch of arrows, resting against his back, nudges me and sends me forward. Athena catches me by the shoulders and steadies me as someone turns on the stereo. Music pumps through the room and the mingling turns into a mosh-pit as some of the guests begin dancing. I put my lips close to Athena’s ear. “Is she in one of her moods?”
Athena leans close to my ear. “Who, Hera?”
I back away and nod.
Athena looks at me earnestly. “When isn’t she?”
“True,” I agree. I’ve known Hera my whole life and she was always mad or complaining about something.
Athena turns her attention to the guests. “I’m gonna go flirt with Apollo,” she tells me. “I’ll catch ya later.”
“Later.”
As make my way to the kitchen, I hear Athena shout, “Hey Apollo! Looking good!”
Mom and Hera stand in front of the kitchen door. Mom says something to Hera and Hera laughs. I approach them and Hera narrows her eyes and tucks a piece of her fiery hair behind her ear. “Would you look at Aphrodite?” she harrumphs. “That Goddess has no shame!”
Glancing over my shoulder, I catch a glimpse of Aphrodite, who is wearing next to nothing. A denim skirt that cuts off right below her butt cheeks and a top that shows her midriff. She’s enclosed by a circle of admirers and I hear her infectious, flirtatious laugh. She playfully slaps the shoulder of one of the men. I’m assuming he just said something funny.
Mom laughs at Hera’s comment. “Hera, one day I swear your jealousy will eat you alive.”
“I am not jealous,” Hera snaps. Of course
He turns to face me, a wide smile on his lips and a twinkle in his brown eyes. “Oh, Persephoonnee!” he slurs. Dionysius wobbles closer and breathes heavily. His breath smells musty and sweet, like fermented grapes. He’s drunk. He raises his right hand, clutching a half-empty green bottle of wine. “Care for a drink, birrrthday girrrl,” he mumbles.
“No thanks,” I say politely. I’ve never been much of a drinker.
He brings the bottle to his lips. “Great. More for me.”
As I weave through the crowd I glimpse at him over my shoulder as he’s stumbles, falling face first into the floor. He’s out cold. A wave of relief flushes through me. Dionysius is overly obnoxious when he’s drunk and I’m pretty sure everyone at this party will be thrilled to learn he’s cashed in early.
Several people wish me a “Happy Birthday” as I continue pushing through the crowd. I assume mom will be in the kitchen, so I head in that direction, but I stop when I feel someone tug on my arm. I try to turn, but I’m smooshed in between Artemis and Hestia. They are both engaged in deep discussions and despite me pushing on them they barely move. I feel like a hamburger patty, smashed between two buns.
Ketchup, cheese and pickles, anyone?
I’m jolted forward, yanked out of my Persephone sandwich and a pair of steel grey eyes rest on me. “Athena!” I squeal and throw myself into her open arms.
“Happy birthday!” she shouts over the noise. Her golden hair is slicked back into a ponytail and she beams as she stands up straight.
“Where have you been?” I lean in close to her, shouting, “It’s been ages!”
“You know, lending my wisdom to those who need it!”
I stifle a glance around the room. “Does mom know you’re here?”
“Yeah! I saw her when I first arrived. I think she’s with Hera in the kitchen. I thought it would be best if I kept my distance!”
Eros shoves his way through the crowd. His pouch of arrows, resting against his back, nudges me and sends me forward. Athena catches me by the shoulders and steadies me as someone turns on the stereo. Music pumps through the room and the mingling turns into a mosh-pit as some of the guests begin dancing. I put my lips close to Athena’s ear. “Is she in one of her moods?”
Athena leans close to my ear. “Who, Hera?”
I back away and nod.
Athena looks at me earnestly. “When isn’t she?”
“True,” I agree. I’ve known Hera my whole life and she was always mad or complaining about something.
Athena turns her attention to the guests. “I’m gonna go flirt with Apollo,” she tells me. “I’ll catch ya later.”
“Later.”
As make my way to the kitchen, I hear Athena shout, “Hey Apollo! Looking good!”
Mom and Hera stand in front of the kitchen door. Mom says something to Hera and Hera laughs. I approach them and Hera narrows her eyes and tucks a piece of her fiery hair behind her ear. “Would you look at Aphrodite?” she harrumphs. “That Goddess has no shame!”
Glancing over my shoulder, I catch a glimpse of Aphrodite, who is wearing next to nothing. A denim skirt that cuts off right below her butt cheeks and a top that shows her midriff. She’s enclosed by a circle of admirers and I hear her infectious, flirtatious laugh. She playfully slaps the shoulder of one of the men. I’m assuming he just said something funny.
Mom laughs at Hera’s comment. “Hera, one day I swear your jealousy will eat you alive.”
“I am not jealous,” Hera snaps. Of course
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