Cupid Under the Sea

Nothing says 'I love you' quite like a statue constructed in your honor. Which is why I'm reclining on an algae-covered boulder in the bay, twenty feet from shore, with a strategic array of seaweed covering my 'bits.' I'm posing for the Advanced Sand Sculpting class at West Marin Heights—California's premier high school for supernaturals. The pitted surface of the rock bites into my bare skin. What we must suffer for art!

I am Cupid—the god people love to love. Just voted Earth's Hottest Deity Alive by God Monthly Magazine for the seventh year in a row—an honor I'm determined to maintain. With armies of admirers on earth, this shouldn't be too hard. For proof, check out the Hallmark aisle during Valentine season.

It's no surprise the class has chosen me as their subject. Some say I'm already a sculpted masterpiece considering my golden skin, rippling muscles, flawless hair, and a devilish smile that inspires lust in even the most frigid creatures.

How I pitied those crusty, worn-out, Olympians who sentenced me to repeat high school as a punishment merely out of jealousy. Foolish gods, hiding away on mountains, condemned to be forgotten.

I beam at my classmates on the shore—twenty of them at different stages of creating me-shaped masterpieces out of sand. My heart stutters when I catch the eye of Rip Tide—prince of the merfolk, second most handsome student at West Marin Heights, and my boyfriend—as he leans jauntily against his shovel. He has legs because, as you well know, merfolk only have tails underwater. I blow him a kiss.

"Eros!" A piercing shout interrupts my musings. "Hold still." It's Gaia, earth's most humorless goddess, creator of the actual earth, and my least favorite West Marin Heights teacher. Gaia was perhaps one of the few who didn't adore me. All because the seaweed covering my nethers had accidentally slipped the last time I'd posed for her class.

"The name's Cupid!" I roar, my voice carrying over the crashing waves. "Eros is a weak baby god, not a hunky, sexy man-god." I glare at Gaia.

The bubbling laughter of mermaid Waverly Fishwater, cousin to Prince Rip Tide, wafts along the wind. "Go ahead, Rip Tide, ask him," she says, elbowing him.

"Ask me what, my love?"

Prince Rip Tide casts a glance at the students assembled on the beach. Fairies, werewolves, vampires, mermaids, and that one boy with smoke coming out of his ears who really ought to see a doctor about his condition. "Not in front of them..."

My curiosity is piqued. What could he want to ask me in private? In my excitement, I sit, and my seaweed "garb" tumbles into the frenzied waves.

Whoops!

"Eros, your seaweed!" Gaia thunders.

Before I can cover myself, the wind howls past my ears. A flash of lightning arcs across the sky. The ocean swells. This spectacle snatches away the attention of my admirers, who drop their tools and gawk at the display.

"Hey!" I call over the din. "Eyes on me!"

Gaia clasps her hands. "He's here!"

"Who's here? Did you invite someone else to sculpt me?" Maybe the interruption is alright. More is better.

"No, our next model has arrived!"

"Your next what?"

Waverly gasps and points to a spot somewhere behind me. Almost in unison, the merfolk begin to scream like BTS just showed up for a surprise concert.

I turn to see what's causing the hoopla. It's Poseidon, atop his seahorse, surfing in on a massive seaweed-infested wave, as tall as a cyclops. I ball my hands into fists, preparing for battle as said wave crashes over me, ejecting me from the rock, pulling me away from shore, and forcing me into the depths. The water churns; fizzy bubbles shoot up my nostrils. My stomach twists. I flap my arms and legs when something like a band of steel wraps around my torso.