Page 42 of The NemeSis
“Making sure this one is so good they wouldn’t want to not do it again,” I reply. “We also have the support of the dean.” I take a breath. “Max and I are also drafting up a manual to make this a regular event to take place every two years. This ensures there will always be someone to help who has helped before.”
“What about inflation and the risk of all the houses not being able to buy their game and support this series of events?” Veronica questions. It doesn’t surprise me, she’s a numbers girl.
“A few of us have already reached out to alumni after they requested how to get involved. Sponsorships are going to be a thing.” Max waits for Veronica to nod before continuing. “The rules are still being fleshed out, but we all have our part to contribute.”
“Exactly. If there aren’t any more questions—” I hesitate before continuing. “We’ll meet back up in one week. Everyone should have the finalized details of their individual games.” I smile. “Meeting adjourned.”
Everyone takes off at a leisurely place except for Max, he hangs back. It isn’t out of the ordinary since we are the two leading the charge for the games. It may have been my idea, but Max was putting in just as much effort at making it a success.
“The local costume shop is sponsoring the Olympians wardrobe and offering a discount to the rest of Greek life.” He closes his laptop. “I’ll forward you the email with their logo.”
“Great! Forward it over to Jenny too since she’s working with that print shop down on Main for banners and signs.” I slip my notebook in my book bag. “Anything else?”
“I heard you and Ryan broke up.”
I nod but don’t look up. Ryan is an Omega, so it isn’t a surprise that Max knows. It didn’t occur to me that it would be something we’d talk about, though. Sure, Ryan and I had been together for six months. That could be perceived as a long time in college. It wasn’t that long ago, but it felt like it.
“He was pretty shook up about it.”
My eyes snap up to Max. “It was mutual. We’re both busy and want different things.”
He raises his hand in surrender. “Just wanted to check in.”
“I’m fine, and we’re better off as friends.” I stand up and slip the strap of my bag over my shoulder. “If that’s all?” Because I certainly don’t feel like talking about Ryan.
“Yeah. Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you, Kyra.” Max rocks on his toes.
I put a smile on my face. “No harm done. A boyfriend is the last thing I need right now.” I laugh. “Between sorority life, my studies, and the games. Who has time for a romantic life?”
Max laughs. “Are you still trying to get that spot in the summer program?” I nod. “Good. I hope you get it. I’ll clean up the rest of the dinner mess. The guys will be happy with leftover pizza as a late-night snack tonight.”
“Thanks. I’ll see you later.”
I barely give him time to say goodbye before I’m rush out of the meeting room and down the hall. While I would normally stay to help cleanup, I had set everything up and cleaned up after the last one. There are only three weekly meetings left until the week of the games.
As stressful as the planning has been, it was finally starting to take shape. The last week has been more about delegating, and most of the other social chairs are ready to do their part. It left me feeling a little weightless. Everything was looking up. The only things left were to edit my ancient history paper and wait to see if The Orphic Order would reach out.
I had heard nothing since the party and Ares didn’t talk about it. He barely acknowledges the party happened.
Chapter Eighteen
ARES
One of the reasons I chose this condo, outside of its location to the auction house and amenities, was the extra rooms. Hotels were fine while traveling, but there were enough times when I was still—just enough. A moment in time to be still. I could plant roots, something I’d never considered.
In the past, I often thought how convenient it would be to have a place of my own. It wasn’t just about a place to call my own, but a place to display my art and pieces of history. Up until now, it had all been scattered between my office, my brother’s, and the beach house. Now, it all had a home.
Outside of the large bedroom, one room had been turned into a home office, another a guest room, and then my art room. It was a newer hobby. I was always amazed at the artists I crossed paths with during my travels. It started small, the inspiration. Sketchbooks were fairly easy to travel with. I kept one in my work bag. Painting was something I found mesmerizing, though. I just didn’t have the space to do it before.
The music blares in my headphones, covering the sound of the rain outside. A random playlist I discovered recently of major songs covered in minor tunes. It brought a creative side of me that flowed out on the large tapestry in front of me. Various cool shades of gray and blue were painted on to create the look of the storm inside of an eye, a single tear dropping from the corner holding all of the warmth.
I move the brush with white close to the iris and add a little more light to my lightning. Then pick up the darker blue to create more of the water below. My phone buzzes nearby and the music cuts off to read me the message.
Kyra: I’m here. Are you not home?
I sitdown the paintbrush and move to cut off the music and grab my phone.
Me: Be right there.
