Runner Girl

Chapter Twenty-One

With shaking hands, I dial his number. He answers on the first ring.

"What the hell is happening over there?" he yells into my ear.

"Are you my grandfather?"

The silence on the line stretches, and I feel myself getting more agitated with every passing second. Finally, I hear him exhale slowly, the sound of his breath hissing through the phone. "Who told you?"

My eyes fill with tears, but I brush my hand against my face and force myself to get a grip. "Doesn't matter. Why didn't you say something?" And how could you have just stood there and let my dad take me?

"Not my place," he says gruffly. "There are rules."

"Damn rules! Aren't there rules that say family has to be honest with each other?" I burst out, unable to keep my emotions in check any longer.

"It's...complicated," he finally says. "My kind isn't supposed...we can't be too honest where your kind is concerned."

Everything clicks into place, and I stare at the phone, aghast. "You're one of them, aren't you? You're Hermes!"

He doesn't deny it. "Look, Lana—"

"No. Whatever you need to say to me, I don't want to hear it." I straighten my shoulders and draw myself up. "The only way you can help me now is by bringing me home."

He hesitates. "I can't meddle—"

"Aphrodite and Artemis have both already messed with my life."

The silence is heavy, but then I hear him curse under his breath, and I almost smile. Almost. I stand there, the phone pressed to my ear, waiting, and finally he says, "It won't be pretty."

The tears I've been holding back start to flow, and I sniff, suddenly so damn tired of it all. "It's already pretty ugly. Whatever you have to do, just hurry up and do it, okay?"

I hang up before he can answer, and then I stagger out of the alley like a sleep walker, still clutching my phone in my hand. With Cypri and Kary's magic, I went to sleep and them woke up the next morning to a different life, and I vaguely wonder if I should lie down and take a nap. Instead, I make my way back across the city to the apartment I've shared with my dad, feeling all kinds of mixed up and broken. My mind keeps circling around and latching onto the fact that all this time I thought I was growing up without any blood relatives, my own damn grandfather was my track coach, and he never said a word.

A thought hits me as I step into the lobby of the hotel, and I freeze. If he's my grandfather, I realize with a mixture of fear and disbelief, does that mean I'm part god?

"It's not possible," I whisper under my breath. I give myself a shake and hurry to the elevator, but I can't escape the thought.

The apartment is deserted when I let myself in, but for the first time since I came to Columbus, I'm not relieved to avoid my dad. I want answers, and I want them now, but unless he miraculously walks through the door, I'm not likely to find anything out. Frustrated, I drop my bags in a heap beside the door, and then I stare around the sterile apartment, searching for something, anything, that can tell me who I really am.

The picture. I move toward my bedroom, wondering what made me think of that. I've only looked at it twice; before, I didn't want to know anything about my parents, didn't want to think about what our lives would have been like if my mom hadn't died and my dad hadn't given me up, but now, I realize the picture might be the only chance I've got to learn anything before Coach Merk—Hermes—zaps me back to my old life. Everyone else's memories changed; what if he takes mine, too? The thought makes me pick up the pace, and I almost sprint down the narrow hall to my room.