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“Proposing,” he whispers. Then he clears his throat. “Daisy, I love you. I would literally die for you.”
I cover my face with my hands, but then I can’t see him, and I’mgoingto see this. My face burns. I can feel everybody watching. That’s not what makes my heart race. It’s him. It’s always been him.
“You could at least give me a courtesy laugh.”
The giggle that exits my mouth sounds frankly deranged, and Hercules pauses to bite his lip and look down at the tiles until he can continue.
Finally, he takes a deep breath and meets my eyes. I could look at that honey-gold color forever. It wouldn’t be long enough.
“I love you so much, baby.” This part’s only for me, but Artemis squeals somewhere nearby and Iknowthey all heard. “Will you marry me?”
“Yes.”
I jump into his arms, which is awkward on account of the lounge chair, and Hercules catches me on his lap.
The entire pool party cheers. It’s so loud. So joyful. He puts the ring on my finger while he kisses me, and I know there are going to be a million pictures of this moment—me, making out with my new fiancé, straddling him at the pool party in front of everyone.
This is it.
This is the dream.
And it’s all mine.
EPILOGUE
Artemis
Nothing is more romantic than a proposal.
Did my best friend and closest cousin Daisy plan on getting engaged in a bikini in front of sixty people? No! I don’t think she did. Actually, I think she never planned on getting engaged at all, because she’s always thought she was too scary to be lovable.
I’ve never been able to convince her that’s complete nonsense. She is living proof that scary things can be lovable. I mean, has shemether dad?
Beyond that, has she met hergrandmother?The only reason Uncle Hades is the original scary thing is that he was born first, and most of the time, Demmy looks pretty harmless.
I saidlooks. Okay? I know she can be dangerous if she wants to be.
Right now, she’s out by the pool, her curly hair shining in the sun, ready to make out with her own husband while she claps for Hercules and Daisy and keeps a sharp eye out forweeping.
I clapped until my hands hurt, but then I got sunstroke.
Or—that’s what it feels like. My stomach twisting. I’m a little dizzy. The heat got to me.
I head through the kitchen in my parents’ house, away from the pool. I need a shadier room. Somewhere I can collect myself.
From the sunstroke. I don’t have a jealousy problem.
There’s noreasonfor me to be jealous of Daisy. It would be callous to ignore all the stuff she’d gone through in her life because of her brain, and I am not a callous person.
I wanted to shootoneperson in the eye with an arrow. That’s it. And he deserved it.
The farther I go down the hall, the cooler and quieter it gets. After an hour on the pool tiles the carpeting feels like heaven’s grass, and the air conditioning feels like heaven’s breeze. When I go back out, I’m gettingimmediatelyinto the pool with a big sunhat on.
I can do that, because it’s not my even to run. When the family’s not in crisis, I use my looks, borrowed from my mom, and my charm, borrowed from my dad, to host social events.
Never you mind if those events are usually for another purpose. Nobody needs to know.
When I go back out, I’ll feel fine. I just need a few minutes. I haven’t consciously chosen a room, but I have a feeling, way below my thoughts. If I was into meditation, I’d probably be able to figure out where that feeling was leading me, but I’m not into meditation. I like archery.
