The Search for Juno

Chapter XIV

A day after they reached Oregon, Alex got a call from his boyfriend.

Alex didn't much like that the four of them were in Portland anyway. Back at the motel in Vegas, they'd spent at least two hours arguing over whether it would be best to stay put or move. They were split fifty-fifty: Conny and June arguing that, in the unlikely case of failure, they could still catch Juno and Hermes if the four of them were in Portland anyway; Artemis and Alex saying that, considering Juno's original goal, it was counterintuitive to be in the place Juno and Hermes were headed to.

Alas, even broken up, Conny and June were somewhat of a power couple, and once Artemis saw their point, it was all over from there.

So they were in Portland, in an expansive Tudor style house the Dolinskis owned in the eastern part of the city. The boss was known to do some of his dirtier jobs up here: underhanded assassinations, torturous interrogations, the like. The very air smelled faintly of blood if Alex breathed too much of it in.

He was in the living room, watching Conny and June fight over who got which game piece in Monopoly, when his phone rang. Both of them looked up, but Alex just said, "It's Remy," and then they both ceased to care.

He shoved open the door to the front porch—it was truly a shove, as the house was old and settling and half the doors stuck in their jambs—and stepped out into the early afternoon sun. "Hey, Remy."

"I hate you."

Alex sighed. He'd sort of seen this coming, and he'd been dreading it. "I can explain."

"Oh can you? You tell me you'll be gone for one night and then decide to disappear for three days, instead? I mean, what—is it Conny? Did that little gremlin kidnap you?"

"He's not a gremlin," Alex snapped, "and he didn't kidnap me, either. Jesus. Now are you going to let me explain or are you just going to yell until your larynx explodes?"

Remy sighed, but he was quiet.

Slowly, Alex walked to the other side of the porch, the wood creaking underneath his sneakers as he did. On the street ahead, a woman jogged by with her perfectly primped poodle, which turned its head and barked at Alex as they passed.

Alex turned, leaning his back against the railing. He'd never been much of a dog person, and especially not a poodle person. Something about their puffy whiteness unnerved him—they were like clouds with legs. "It's an unexpected work trip," said Alex, which was not entirely a lie. "I'm sorry. I didn't have time to tell you."

"How long does it take to send a text, Alex?" said Remy. Of course he wasn't going to let Alex off so easy—what had Alex been thinking? "I mean, really? Spend any more time away and your professors are gonna start thinking you're dead."

"I'm not dead. Can't you just tell them I'm not dead?"

Remy sighed again, and in his mind's eye Alex could see Remy, leaned against the wall or sitting cross-legged atop his bunk, fingers worrying at a cherubic curl of his hair. What was this dull ache in Alex's chest? He missed him, he thought. That's what it was.

Alex crumpled further against the railing. What an awful feeling. He wanted it gone.

"Rem," he said.

"Alex, babe. I'm worried about you."

Alex winced. "I know. I just need a few days, okay? I'll be back home next week. There's just...something I have to take care of."

Even as he said the words, they felt empty, a false promise propped up on what were most likely lies. He'd be home in a few days, sure, but that was assuming everything went to plan. He and Conny and the others were clever, maybe, but what Alex didn't want to consider was that Juno was more so.