“It’s probably just a coincidence,” I tell PT, not sure who I’m trying to convince—him or me.
He studies me again, the bun on the top of his head quivering in the wind, just like it did that morning at his farm stand. “I hope it is,” he finally says. “For all our sakes.”
“What does that mean?” I ask.
But he’s already walking away, whistling that popular song about playing with fire as he goes.
Which is a little bit strange considering what just happened, but who am I to judge?
Especially if he’s right and I’ve somehow been the cause of all the bad things that have been happening to me since I got here.
The thought makes me sad, but I don’t have time to stand around worrying and wallowing. Not when I have to talk all of Aphrodite Hall into helping me win the Pandora’s box contest.
But telling myself that doesn’t keep me from worrying about it as I make my way around the corner past the science building, which is next to the library today. Every time I see Paris, it feels like he’s looking at me like there’s something really different—or wrong—about me. He hasn’t said anything, but I can see it in eyes.
At first I thought it was just about me being stuck in Aphrodite instead of Athena. But now I’m not so sure.
My stomach clenches sickly as I make another left. As I do, I walk past a bunch of willow trees before getting to a building I’ve never seen before. It’s so tall and imposing and in your face that even in the middle of this new freak-out I’m having, I have to stop and stare.
It’s tall—taller than any building on campus except for Zeus Hall—and it’s narrow, kind of like a skyscraper. Except it’s only about twenty stories high and not a hundred like so many of the big city buildings.
It’s also made of pure white marble with gold veins running through it. In fact, the entire building is gold and white—including the huge, imposing gold double doors right in the front. Even the high fence around it looks to be made of gold.
I’ve never seen a more beautiful or intimidating building in my life. Which makes me wonder what it’s for—and why it has yet to appear on any map on my bedroom ceiling. Someplace like this has to be important, doesn’t it?
Except, as I take several steps closer, I realize that it isn’t important at all—at least not anymore. In fact, it doesn’t look like anyone has set foot in this place for a long, long time.
What looks like it was once a perfectly manicured garden between the fence and the building is now completely overrun with weeds and plants gone wild. The gorgeous white-and-gold marble is actually gray from lack of care, and even the gold doors are coated with what looks like several seasons of dust and grime.
It doesn’t make sense. Why spend all the time and moneybuilding something like this only to let it all go to waste? Why not use it for something amazing?
Turn it into a library filled with hard-to-find texts.
Make it a dorm for parents to stay in when they come for parents’ weekends.
Or maybe just make it a work project and have students through the years use their gifts to help restore it to its former glory. Anything would be better than just leaving it here to fall apart.
As I get right up to the fence, a gust of wind rolls through and blows the elaborately swirled gate open just a crack. Act of nature or not, if Fifi was here I know she’d consider it an invitation. But I’m a little more cautious. No matter how much I want to look inside, the last thing I can afford right now is to get into trouble for trespassing somewhere I don’t belong. Especially when my mother is already so unhappy with me.
But even knowing I don’t belong here—even knowing I might get in trouble—I’m still tempted to walk through the gate. There’s just something about this place that calls to me in a way I’ve never felt before.
I just wish I knew what it was.
I take a couple more steps forward, trying to get a better view through the open gate. But before I can see anything other than tangles of weeds and wild lilies, my phone buzzes with a message.
Fifi: Where are you? Class ended forever ago and the meeting starts in fifteen minutes!
Fifi: Get here so we can pick out our snacks or I’m going to the candy room without you
Me: OMW
Me: What candy room?
Fifi: OMGs!!!! You don’t know about the candy room?
I start to answer with an “obviously not,” but in the last week I’ve come to learn that won’t help me get an answer. Fifi is both an exuberant and totally inefficient texter, and the only way to actually get information out of her is to cut through all her effervescence in person.
I use my phone to snap a couple of quick pics before giving the building one last curious look. As I walk away, I promise myself that I’m going to try to find it again—and next time I’ll even bring Fifi and Arjun along when I come. But for now, I have a meeting to attend and, apparently, a candy room to ransack.
