Poseidon chuckled. “No. That was just foolhardy. You’d never catch me at one of Zeus’s brunches. I mean when you accepted Geras’s challenge. You could have walked away, left Ganymede to his fate, probably even gotten Geras to write you a recommendation letter instead.”
The way Poseidon spelled out what I’d been thinking at the time . . . I wondered if he could read my mind. Or maybe he just understood me the way he understood the ocean’s moods. Like the sea, I was part of him.
“Instead,” he continued, “you honored your promise. You risked your life for a cupbearer you barely know. Not for a letter. Not because the fate of the world was at stake. But because that’s just who you are. Today, you created a small wave, and you showed what the ocean is capable of.”
My eyes were getting watery. If I wasn’t careful, I was going to start a saltwater flood right here in the office.
“Mr. Jackson?” Margaret sounded impatient.
“I gotta go,” I told Poseidon. “But hey, Dad? Thank you. Also . . . would you consider letting the river god Elisson do a yoga class at your palace sometime? I think you’d really love it.”
I said good-bye and, after handing Margaret the phone, took my hall pass and left. When I glanced back through the office window, she was talking to my dad again, laughing at something he’d said. Were they flirting? I decided I didn’t want to know.
Already this morning, I’d wrestled Old Age, survived a godly brunch, and gotten the demi bag to prove it. I’d saved Ganymede’s reputation, and even put in a good word for Elisson and his undersea whale yoga classes.
Those were enough small waves for now. My dad was right. If you weren’t careful, they could sweep you off your feet.
I was halfway down the hall when the counselor’s door opened.
“There you are!” Eudora said. “Come in! Come in!”
I was in too much shock to argue. Besides, a few more minutes of tardiness probably wouldn’t make any difference, so I followed her inside.
I sat on the little blue plastic chair and nodded to Sicky Frog, because by this point, I was pretty sure the creature was sentient. Eudora seemed to be making herself at home in the counselor’s office. She’d added a collection of seashells to her desk—maybe in case she needed to freshen up her hairdo. On the back wall, she’d tacked up a motivational poster of a smiling sea otter with the message LAUGHTER IS THE BEST MEDICINE!
I thought maybe I should buy her another poster as a thank-you gift, once I was safely graduated and on the other side of the country. One that said: COUNSELING: WHERE CAN WE FLUSH YOU TODAY?
“So!” Eudora rubbed her hands together. “Tell me all about it! I heard you got Ganymede’s letter!”
“It’s kind of a do-it-yourself letter, but yeah.” I told her about my adventures since I’d last seen her, making sure she understood there was no longer any need to send me anywhere via her magical sewer pipes.
When I mentioned the call from Poseidon, a trickle of seawater leaked from her scalloped hair.
“I—I see! I would have been happy to talk to the office myself. I’m so sorry your father had to be bothered with that.” She paused, looking suddenly terrified. “Not that you are a bother, of course!”
“It’s cool,” I said. “Actually, it worked out great.”
Her shoulders relaxed as she realized I wasn’t going to yell at her or demand that my father banish her to the Mariana Trench.
“I’m so glad to hear that,” she said. “I think this experience would make a great subject for your personal essay on the application. Bravery! Initiative! Self-discovery!”
“Yeah,” I said, trying not to cry about the fact that I would have to write yet another essay. “I think we all learned an important lesson here today.”
“Sorry?”
“Forget it.”
She leaned forward conspiratorially. “And . . . may I ask, were you tempted at all to drink from the chalice of the gods? You can tell me the truth.”
I thought about poor Ganymede sweating Greek fire at the brunch, about the way Zeus treated him like a trophy, about the various looks of distaste Hebe, Iris, and Geras had made when I mentioned Ganymede’s name.
“The truth?” I said. “I wasn’t tempted a bit.”
She studied me as if I’d grown a set of tentacles. “Fascinating. May I see your letter from Ganymede?”
I pulled out my blank sheet of paper and slid it across the desk.