The Search for Juno

Chapter IX

"I have a bad feeling about this."

Angie and Hermes were standing in front of a house right at the edge of Las Vegas, one of those high-ceilinged, more glass than brick sort of places that vaguely resembled a super villain's lair. There was a low hum of music thudding along in Angie's ears and the front yard was strewn with crushed beer cans and red solo cups. It smelled like all the reasons she had chosen online school instead of on-campus: alcohol, vomit, sweat.

People did this for fun?

But Hermes was already dragging her towards the front door, a bright smile on his face. "Humans," he said with a click of his teeth. "Always so wary of everything, like—"

"We're gonna die?" said Angie. "Hm. Maybe it's because we can die, unlike someone I know."

Hermes rose an eyebrow at her for a moment, his eyes an even brighter yellow underneath the porch lights. Then he smirked, a brisk jerk of his mouth that was gone as soon as it was there. "I can promise you this," he said. "You're not gonna die at a college party."

Angie sighed, and nodded her head. Not because she believed these massive gatherings of twenty-somethings were as safe as people thought them to be, but because she trusted Hermes more than she trusted anyone else right now.

Angie was about to ask just how he planned to infiltrate this bright house full of strangers, when Hermes turned and thrust a red baseball cap at her. She was confused as to where he got it from, and even more confused when he yanked another from his pocket, along with a full-sized delivery pizza box.

"How did you—"

"Put your hat on and trust me."

Angie frowned and wrestled the hat on over her thick head of curls. It was a few moments of awkward struggling until she at least got the hat to sit upright without falling, and finally Hermes leaned forward and knocked sharply.

"Pizza delivery!" announced Hermes as soon as the door swung open, revealing a tipsy college girl whose eyes flung wide at the first glimpse of the pizza box. Angie wasn't convinced it even really had pizza in it. A cool tick of guilt pressed at the back of her throat.

"Right! Thank you!" the girl exclaimed, shouting over the clamor of voices and stereo feedback behind her. She rifled through her pockets, recovered a few crumpled five dollar bills, and thrust them at Hermes.

Hermes tipped his hat. "We can put it in the kitchen for you, if you like."

The girl paused, raked Hermes up and down, then grinned. "Sure thing."

Hermes paused long enough to shoot a devious grin back at Angie, then pulled her after him and into the sea of people.

Angie instantly had a headache. The lights were low but nothing else was; by the time she and Hermes reached the kitchen, she was nearly choking on the thick, weed-scented smoke that suffused around the trash-strewn, overly-populated house.

A hand on her shoulder; she looked up into Hermes's face. "You good?"

Angie shook her head. She should've known this was a terrible idea the second Hermes decided that he himself was suitable interstate transportation. "Everything about this night is insane."

"And it's not over yet!" said Hermes cheerily.

Angie just glared at him.

He pat her shoulder, then tossed his head towards the dim hallway, where Angie could make out the lingering shadows of a few passionately-engaged couples. "We should look around; she's around here somewhere. Upstairs or downstairs first?"