Cupid’s Match

“Fine,” I say. “I’d like nothing better than to kick your butt.”

I slip off my shoes and place my coffee cup on the stone floor. Taking a tentative step onto the pink mat, I look squarely at Cupid.

“Kick my butt, huh?” he says as he begins to circle me. “You know, the day I met you, I broke into the principal’s office.”

“Probably not the strangest thing you’ve done since you got here,” I say. “What’s your point?”

He raises an eyebrow. “I’ve seen your file.”

“That’s private,” I say as I move in step with him, the mat spongy against my bare feet.

“You were a model student up to a couple of years ago,” he says, not taking his eyes off my face, “but something changed.”

He pads slowly around me, his movements more elegant than I would have imagined for someone so solidly built. His face is thoughtful, curious.

“Your grades dropped, you withdrew, and there were even a few accounts of antisocial behavior—apparently we’ve both tangled with your school quarterback, Jason. What changed?”

When I don’t answer, he continues.

“It was because you lost your mother, wasn’t it? I’m sorry,” he says.

I don’t want to talk anymore. Not about this. I want to fight. I clench my jaw and lurch toward him, attempting to strike. He jumps out of my way and I overstep. When I spin back around, he’s looking at me thoughtfully.

“You were hurt by love,” he says, “and so you withdrew from love. I’d wager that’s why you ended up with James.”

I raise my arm again but he grabs my fist, spins me around, and pulls me back against his chest. I can feel his steady heartbeat thudding against my back and his warm breath against my cheek. I am furious, rage pumping through my veins, but there’s something mixed with it—a fire.

“How strange it is then,” he whispers into my ear, “that I, Cupid, should be the one to find you.”

For a moment I’m frozen in his arms. Then I regain my senses and pull away; spinning around to face him. His eyes are watching me and the rise and fall of his chest quickens.

“You’re mad at love?” he says. “Well, fight me then.”

I stare at the person who knowingly put me in danger, mocked my relationship with James, and delved into my personal files, and yet at the same time, makes my soul feel alive. I fly at him, throwing my arms around his waist with my full force. He stumbles back a few steps but doesn’t fall—he’s too strong, too steady on his feet. Instead, he grabs my shoulders and lifts me up. I cry out as he slips a bare foot behind one of my legs and slowly tips me off balance. I grab his upper arm as he gently lowers me to the ground.

For a moment he is leaning just inches from my face. My heartbeat pounds in my ears as his eyes linger on my lips.

Then he pulls me quickly back up to my feet and steps backward on the mat.

“You’ll have to do better than that,” he says. “The Arrows won’t be so easy on you. Fight me.”

I swing for him but again he dodges, grabbing my arm and twirling me around as though we are dancing. He laughs when I spin back, and I feel a small smile tugging at the corner of my lips despite myself. He gives me an encouraging nod.

“Use my weight against me,” he says. “Do what I just did, knock me off balance.”

I feel an energy in the air, an electric crackle between our bodies. I run at him again but this time he doesn’t dodge away. I grab his arms like he did mine and they tense beneath my fingers. Quickly, I hook my foot around his leg and pull while pushing at his torso.

Cupid doesn’t resist, and falls back against the mat, bringing me tumbling down on top of him. For a moment we stay there, my body on top of his. I can feel the rise and fall of his chest and smell the light scent of fabric softener mixed with the intoxicating scent of danger.

I’m surprised to see a new openness in his eyes.

Then, before either of us can speak, a sharp cough comes from the entrance of the underground room. Cal is standing by the stairs, emanating disdain. A large brown satchel is slung over his shoulder.

We scramble to our feet.

“Glad to see you two are taking this whole thing seriously.” He gives Cupid a look and walks toward us, throwing the bag onto the floor beside the mats. Then he thrusts what looks like a small USB stick into Cupid’s hand.

“I thought you were going to L.A.?” says Cupid, his tone a little accusatory.

“No. I stored an old Sim and some arrows in my school locker last week in case there was trouble,” Cal replies. “And I knew that you couldn’t possibly be trusted on your own for the next few hours if I went to the Matchmaking Service.”

“We were just training,” I say quietly. For some reason I feel a bit guilty.

“Sure you were. I’m sure my brother was showing you some very useful tips.”

He stalks off to the monitors in the corner of the vast room as Cupid and I share a look. Cupid shrugs, the vulnerability wiped from his face, as we turn to follow Cal.

“Don’t ask,” he whispers. “The inner workings of my brother’s mind are just as much a mystery to me.”

When we reach the array of screens, Cupid slips the USB into the computer and then slides into the leather office chair in front of the monitors.

“What are you doing?” I ask as pink letters begin to emerge on the black screens. “Is that some kind of code?”

Cupid doesn’t look at me; he only nods and starts typing on the keyboard. “I’m tweaking this to set up a similar situation to what we’ll encounter later,” he says. He looks at Cal. “This is an outdated version.”

“Will it run on the screens?” I ask before Cal can retort.

Cupid spins his chair around to face me and grins. “Nope.”

He pulls the stick back out, fiddles with it for a moment, and then shakes it. Three small, metallic objects tumble into the palm of his hand.

“Put this in your ear. It sends a signal to your brain that causes a kind of controlled hallucination.” He passes one of the objects to me and one to Cal. “We’ll all see the same thing. Cal and I will be with you the whole time.”

Cal looks at me and forces himself to smile. “It’s a bit weird the first time, but you can stop the training by just taking the chip out.”

I look down at the thing in the palm of my hand. It’s cold to the touch, and I notice some small engravings around the sides.

“Ready?” asks Cupid.

I take a deep breath and nod. Then I raise my hand and slip the small, alien object into my ear.