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The two women stumbled down the block, trying unsuccessfully to contain their fits of laughter.
“Shhh,” Athena giggled. Giggled. This was one of those rare moments she felt her age. Too often, her family relied on her to come up with solutions to their problems. She put her mind to their tests: making advances in technology, offering her strategies at war meetings, and writing her father’s press releases and speeches. She was majoring in journalism, but with minors in nearly every critical field, there was nothing she couldn’t do. However, on nights like this, she could just be a young college student making her way back to her dorm after a frat party.
“Come on,” Pallas exclaimed. She tugged on Athena’s hand, and the Olympian was very aware of how their fingers were locked together. Pallas was practically dragging her forward, which was unprecedented given Athena’s higher status, but she really didn’t care. Pallas usually did, though. She must’ve had more drinks than Athena did. As if to punctuate that point, she was waving around a half-filled cup right now. Dionysus and Pan combined were notorious for making the most dangerous concoctions at their parties, but somehow Athena could always hold her alcohol just a little better than most.
Pallas let go of her hand and kept running ahead, jumping on a stone bench without breaking her stride. “I love Athena!”
Athena chased after her, her face flushed with embarrassment. “Pallas, keep your voice down,” she hissed.
But Pallas wasn’t listening. She gracefully leapt off the bench and downed the rest of her drink before throwing the cup away in the nearest trash can. “There’s no one around,” she said, making a face. “I love Athena!”
Athena caught her from behind, wrapping her arms around Pallas’ waist in a vice-like grip. She rested her head on Pallas’ shoulder and whispered. “I love you too.”
Pallas tasted like a blend of different wines, and Athena felt like she was dying from thirst. No one was around, and they stayed wrapped in each other’s embrace under the dim glow of a street lamp.
“My father offered me a job,” Athena said, pulling back for air.
Pallas frowned. A job given by Zeus could mean a number of things, and none of them were good, but Athena was practically beaming. “I’m going to be the Editor in Chief for the City’s biggest news company.”
“That’s amazing!” Pallas gasped. Athena could read her expression though and knew exactly what question was bothering her. What will happen to the current Editor in Chief? Zeus refused to say and simply told Athena that she could take creative liberty on the story that would explain his absence. “This is what you always wanted. I’m happy for you.”
“I’ll take over as soon as I graduate,” Athena said. She had Pallas’ hands in her own, and she squeezed them tightly as she looked into her eyes. “I want you to do this with me.”
“What? Write for your paper?” Pallas asked.
“Yes,” Athena said. “We can co-lead the company.”
“Athena…” Pallas said, biting her lip.
“No one will care,” Athena said, trying to convince herself as much as Pallas. “I’ll be the main face, but we’ll share the title within the office. Our employees will show you the same respect as they’ll show me.”
“I’m not an Olympian,” Pallas argued. “What will your family think?”
“They don’t have to know,” Athena said. “None of them pay attention to the fine print on the paper so long as the articles being written make them look good. We can work as equals, just like we always dreamed.”
Pallas was silent. She let go of Athena’s hands and glanced up at the blinking lights bouncing off the windows of skyscrapers and apartment complexes. The City was growing larger every day, and the stars and moons were dissolving into the realm of myths. “I’ll think about it,” she said finally. There was a warm smile on her face, and she began to walk down the path again, inviting Athena to follow her. “Ask me again when I’m sober.”
~~~
The next day, Athena woke up tangled under Pallas’ sheets. Her head was pounding. She managed to crawl out from under the covers and blindly reached for her glasses on the bedside table. The room was dark, but Athena could smell eggs and coffee coming out of the kitchen. Beside her glasses, Athena found a bottle of painkillers and some water waiting for her. Just when she thought she couldn’t love Pallas more.
She took the pills and got dressed, rifling for clean clothes in Pallas’ dresser. Her favorite gray dress was sprawled on the ground. There was a giant wine stain on the front of it, and Athena couldn’t remember how it got there. Once she threw on one of Pallas’ hoodies and underwear, she made her way to the kitchen.
Pallas was already pouring some scrambled eggs beside four buttered pieces of toast. Athena kissed her cheek and helped carry the food over to the dining table.
The apartment was nothing to brag about. It was a mess of Pallas’ different interests: potted plants, oil paintings, and drawers filled to the brim with cooking utensils. It was a stark contrast from the neat and orderly villa that Athena kept on the higher levels of the City, but then she spent more time at Pallas’ place than her own.
Athena was scooping the eggs and placing them onto a piece of toast to make a simple breakfast sandwich. Pallas reached for the banana ketchup and started pouring a generous amount onto her eggs, offering the bottle to Athena when she was done. Athena wrinkled her nose, and Pallas laughed.
“Ketchup belongs nowhere near eggs,” Athena said pointedly.
“Don’t knock it till you try it, princess,” Pallas teased, but she didn’t push the matter. Athena watched her practically devour her food as she took smaller bites of her sandwich, waiting for the painkillers to kick in.
“I’ve got to stop by the dry cleaners later,” Athena said.
Pallas nodded. “Have fun. I’m heading to the library to return a few books.”
“Oh, could you take my books too, please?”
“They’re already in my bag,” Pallas said. She picked at her eggs with her fork. “I’ve been thinking about what you said last night.”
Athena blinked. She wracked her brain, trying to remember the details when her heart skipped a beat. “Right,” she said cautiously, trying to conceal her emotions. “What do you think?”
Pallas bit into her toast and smiled. “I think I would love to run the company with you, but we have to be careful. Your family can be a bit… intense sometimes.”
Athena nodded. There was no need for Pallas to tiptoe around it because Athena knew how bad her family could be. If word got out that Athena was sharing her position with someone outside of the family, she might get a slap on the wrist, but Pallas would bear the harsher punishment. It was largely the reason they’ve chosen to keep their relationship a secret in the first place.
They finished up their breakfast, and Athena changed into more appropriate attire. She always kept a small collection of business clothes in Pallas’ apartment, and she slipped into a navy blue skirt and a cute white blouse. She grabbed her bag and her dress off the floor, folding it neatly before kissing Pallas goodbye.
The streets were busy. Athena joined the crowd of coffee drinkers and office workers chatting idly into their phones. Every few seconds, someone would recognize her, and their eyes would widen as they hurried out of her way. It was annoying watching people act skittish around her, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy the power.
There was a dry cleaner not too far from the apartment, privately owned, which was a rarity considering how the Olympians bought off everything these days. She’d usually stop by one of the big-name laundromats like Hygieia, but it was a farther walk than Athena wanted to make today. A bell jingled as she stepped through the door of Threads of Fate. The air smelled like different brands of detergent mixed with the stench of mildew. Half the machines had an out-of-order sign taped in front of them which wasn’t a promising sign.
Three ladies were sitting behind the counter, each working on their own separate knitting project. The woman that looked closest to Athena’s age spotted her first. “An Olympian,” she mused. She laid the needles down in front of her and sunk into a bow. The gesture seemed more out of amusement than fear or respect, and Athena wasn’t sure how to react. Still, at least she made an effort. The other two women regarded her with disinterest, refusing to glance up from their work.
Athena noticed they all shared similar features: thick curly hair, sharp green eyes, and tanned skin. Curiously, the only difference seemed to be the age gap between each of them. Athena glanced at the yarn on the counter. She was more of a seamstress than a knitter, but she guessed that the youngest woman was making a hat by the shape of it. The name on her shirt read: Clotho.
“How can I help you today?” Clotho asked cheerily.
Athena placed her dress on the counter. “I need this washed and pressed. How soon can you have it done?”
Clotho unfolded the dress and pursed her lips when she saw the wine stain. “What a mess. It’s a shame you can’t undo the past. It would’ve been such a lovely dress, and she would’ve been such a lovely young woman.”
Before Athena could ask what she meant, the middle-aged woman that looked old enough to be Clotho’s mother suddenly jolted up. Her name was Lachesis. She set her half-finished scarf on her lap and stared out the window with a faraway look in her eyes. “There’s a storm coming, my dears.”
Athena glanced behind her where the City was its usual gloomy self. With the sky overtaken by buildings, it was hard to imagine how the older woman could tell what the weather would be like. She continued to talk like Athena wasn’t in the room. “If she holds onto this happiness, the stain will be the least of her worries.”
“She can’t help it, sister,” Clotho said. “Their strings have been tied for quite some time.”
“What are you talking about?” Athena asked, starting to grow annoyed. She wasn’t sure she wanted to leave her dress in the care of these mad women. “Look, I can pay extra to have the stain removed by Friday, or I can find someone else to do the job.”
The eldest woman, Atropos, held out her speckled hand, and Clotho gave her the dress. She examined it slowly, brushing over the wine stain with her wrinkled fingertips. When she was done, she met Athena’s eyes and shook her head in disapproval. “Some stains can never be removed. Not even with bleach, not even with time. Walk away while still can, Pallas Athena. She’s better off without you.”
A shiver traveled down Athena’s spine. “What did you just call me?”
Clotho took the dress from Atropos and tapped some numbers into the register. “Nevermind that, love. My sister is ahead of herself again. She often forgets where the present is. We’ll do our best and call you when your dress is ready for pick up.”
Athena wanted to say more, but her phone started to ring. She checked the caller ID and saw that it was her father. She groaned. The day had just begun, but it was already looking to be a long one, and she had no time to fuss over crazy laundromat ladies.