Cupid’s Match

Cal abruptly stands and gathers the three arrows, slipping them back into the case over his shoulder. When he heads toward one of the doors, I get up and follow. The mood’s clearly shifted.

“Everything okay?” I ask as we walk down the dimly lit school corridor, which is decorated with flyers for team tryouts, auditions for the drama club’s production of Romeo and Juliet, and a couple of pink posters for the Forever Falls school dance, which I’m pretty sure Charlie stuck up.

Cal keeps his eyes fixed straight ahead. “Yes.”

He doesn’t speak for a moment and I find myself staring at the bow and arrows slung across his shoulder.

“You need to be more careful,” Cal says suddenly, as we walk outside. He makes his way around the angular building toward the parking lot and I fall into step beside him.

“What do you mean?”

He glares at me, exasperated. “With Cupid. Day one of meeting him and you’re already his mentor.” He shakes his head. “As I said, the path of your match has already been put into motion. You will be drawn to each other. And Cupid, if he realizes who you are, will create reasons be alone with you. But you must fight it. You mustn’t create more opportunities.”

“I wasn’t the one who put the path of the match into motion.”

Cal looks a little sheepish for a moment, then pulls out a key from his jeans pocket and points it straight ahead. A double beep sounds and the two side doors of a bright red Lamborghini slide upward.

“That’s your car? Way to fit in with the students, Cal. I take it being a cupid pays well, then?”

The corner of his lip briefly quirks. “It has its perks.” He slides into the driver’s seat. “Want a ride anywhere?”

I was planning on walking across town to the Love Shack, one of Forever Falls’s only places to hang out. I said I’d meet James and Charlie, and there’s usually a good crowd out on the first day back at school.

“Sure,” I say, making my way to the passenger side. “You know the Love Shack?”

Cal nods as he smoothly reverses and pulls out of the parking lot. We pass the houses dotting the quiet roads, and I look out the window, suddenly feeling awkward at the close quarters. Soon we approach the cobblestone town square and Cal pulls up beside the alley between the florist and the diner. The Love Shack sits at the end of it.

As he presses a button that opens my car door, I look at him tentatively.

“Do you want to—”

He holds up a finger, silencing me, as he puts his cell phone to his ear.

“Curtis?” he says urgently.

I roll my eyes. Cal seems to act like everything is an end-of-the-world situation and I wonder whether I should just leave him to his call.

His eyes narrow. “If the Records of the Finis isn’t in our archives, then maybe it’s in one of the other Matchmaking Service branches.” He lowers his voice. “No, do not involve anyone else. Let me know when you find it.”

He clicks off the call and puts the phone back in the pocket of his jeans. He looks at me, confused. “Well? We’re here,” he says.

I suck in an irritated breath. “I know, Cal. I was asking if you wanted to come? You can get to know some new people. James, Charlie . . . it could be fun.”

A fearful look passes over his face at the mention of my best friend, and I recall her chattering to him in class earlier. I can hardly think of a more unlikely pair; him stern and silent, her dizzy and loud.

“She’s not so bad if you give her a chance,” I say.

He frowns. “Will a lot of people from school be there?”

“Yeah, a whole crowd of us. There’s nowhere else to go.”

Cal pulls his keys out of the ignition and unfastens his seat belt. “Then Cupid will be there, so I had better come along”—he gives me a pointed look—“and make sure you don’t get into any trouble.”

With an electronic beep, Cal locks his car and we head down the cobbled alleyway.

“So. . . . what’s this Records of the Furnace thing you were talking about?” I ask in an attempt to make conversation.

“Finis. Nothing.” His eyes remain fixed ahead.

I roll my eyes. Fine. I tried.

The afternoon air is scented with petunias and lavender as we pass the florist on our way to the Love Shack. I dare a glance at Cal, who is making no effort to hide his distaste at the flashing pink letters above the door. The sound of nineties pop music drifts toward us as we approach.

Eric, the bouncer and a friend of my father’s, blocks our way.

“All right, Lila!” he says, giving me a quick bear hug. “How’s your dad doing? Any better?”

“Yeah, he’s doing okay,” I lie, sticking my hand out for him to brand me with the under-twenty-one stamp. Eric glances suspiciously at Cal. We don’t get a lot of new people in Forever Falls.

“This is Cal. He just moved here from L.A.”

Eric shrugs then stamps the matchmaking agent, who instantaneously looks horrified at the palm tree now staining his pale skin.

“Third new guy I’ve admitted today,” says Eric. “Well, in you go. Say hey to your dad from me. He’s always got a space on our bowling team if he ever wants to get back into it.”

I tell Eric I’ll pass on his message but silently think it’s unlikely. Bowling was Dad’s thing with Mom, even if she thought it was kind of silly. I try not to think about the video Cal showed me of the ten-pin bowling alley.

There are other things on my mind.

“Third guy?” I whisper to Cal as we walk down the long hallway to the main area of the club. “I guess Cupid was the first, but who is the other?”

Cal is too preoccupied with rubbing at the stamp to pay attention. “I am over twenty-one, you know.”

I open another door and we enter the noisy main room of the Love Shack. It is familiar and homey to me, but I feel a flash of amusement at what Cal may think. It doesn’t seem like his sort of scene. The crowded room is washed in unnatural pink light, straw litters the sticky floor, and high tables sit below worn sunbed umbrellas. Neon signs reading Beach Party hang about the room and the staff all wear brightly colored leis.

“It’s meant to be a luau beach party theme,” I say to Cal.

He surveys the room coldly. “It’s even tackier than I remember.”

“You’ve been here before?” I ask as I see Charlie wave us over. We weave our way through the crowd.

“Not by choice.”

Charlie sits with James at one of the high tables, nursing a lavish pink drink with a paper umbrella. Her face lights up as she realizes I’m not alone. Cal inclines his head in greeting, but his expression is a little hostile.

“Where have you two been?” James asks. As if sensing Cal’s dark mood, his face hardens.

“Lila was just helping me out with some registration tasks,” says Cal.

Charlie gives me a coy look. “Me and James were just discussing Cupid’s party. James thinks the guy is an ass, but I think it’ll be fun. And it’s on Friday, so it’s just logic really . . . I mean, why wouldn’t we go? Right, Lila?”

Cal shoots me a warning glare and I feel the burn of Cupid’s address still folded in the pocket of my jeans. I think of the flutter in my stomach when his fingers brushed mine and those stormy ocean-colored eyes.

“I don’t know,” I say tersely. “I’m not sure about that guy.”

A brief flicker of approval passes over Cal’s face.

“You don’t have to like him. You don’t even have to talk to him,” Charlie says. “It’s a party. Everyone’s going. And I heard he has a pool. James?”

James gives me an apologetic smile. “Well . . . when you put it like that.” He reaches for my hand. “What do you think, Lila?”

I feel my resolve weaken as his warmth encloses my fingers. As long as I go with James and Charlie, there’s no harm in attending. And it could be fun, as long as I avoid Cupid. Plus, he may be a jerk, but he doesn’t exactly seem dangerous.

We chat for an hour or so about school, summer, and how Charlie’s going to write a blog post about Cupid’s party, while Cal, looking increasingly uncomfortable, perches on one of the stools.

“So where are you from, Cal?” asks Charlie in an attempt to rope him into the conversation.

He’s just about to reply when I see him tense up. I look behind me to see that Jason, one of the football players, is holding Jack against the wall by the scruff of his blue hoodie.

“What’s he doing to Jack?” Charlie asks over the music.

“You stay away from Laura!” Jason shouts.

Jack struggles against him, his eyes wide as he jerks his head back and forth. Jason is raising his fist to punch him in the face when suddenly Cupid appears out of nowhere. He is no longer wearing his leather jacket, and his arm muscles bulge through his gray T-shirt. He intercepts the blow, grabbing the jock’s fist and pushing him backward. The two square up for a moment before Jason is pulled away by two other guys from the football team.

Cupid turns back to Jack, who is looking stricken, still flattened against the wall.

I’m about to spin back toward my group when Cupid makes a swift movement toward Jack. When he pulls his arm away, he is holding something sickeningly familiar.

A gold arrow, tipped with dark red.

As I watch, it crumbles into ash.

Cupid looks right at me and smiles.