“Yup. Not a fan. So I had to sneak around to read The Iliad and The Odyssey.”
“I thought my mom was weird for banning vampire novels,” Tyler says. “Don’t tell her you’re hanging out with Ry, then.”
“Why?”
“Full-blooded Greek.” He smiles at me with that dimple and that skin, and it’s too perfect. Is there something wrong with me that I want to hang out with him more just because he’s Greek and it’d kill my mom?
Tyler whispers something to Scott, and they both jump up. “Be right back!” she says, and they take off down the beach, hand in hand.
“They’re going somewhere to make out, aren’t they?” I ask, frowning at them.
“Probably.”
“Lame.”
Ry and I sit there, staring out over the ocean as the sun’s dipping progress speeds up. I make a point of keeping my eyes on the water. It glows now, this brilliant, darkening blue. It’s amazing. I should come here for sunset every night. I don’t wish away the water anymore.
“So,” I say, too aware of him right next to me and wanting to talk about something normal, “why epic poetry?”
“I know there’s no point—not like anyone wants to read it—but I grew up on these stories, the mythology, and it’s a beautiful way of making sense of the world. Plus I have high hopes that my poetry will get me the one thing I want in the whole world.” He lets that hang there, like he wants me to ask what it is.
Instead I say, “Doesn’t everyone always meet really tragic endings in Greek mythology?”
He laughs. “Pretty much. But some would say my writing is a tragedy in and of itself, so I’m already doing my culture justice. What do you like to do, Issy?”
“Oh no. I am not an Issy.”
“Sorry, I didn’t take you for a Dora.”
“I’m not. I’m an Isadora.”
“No nicknames?”
“My name is Isadora. That’s who I am. I hate nicknames.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was a big deal.” He sounds sincere.
I sigh. “It’s not. Well, it is. It’s just—cultural, right? Your name is who you are, what defines you. Ancient Egyptians even believed names themselves had power. You take away someone’s name, or change it, you’re taking away a part of them. You are your name.” I frown, thinking of all my stupid relatives who couldn’t ever even bother to learn my name. My mom, who’d call me pet names all the time—she couldn’t be bothered to see me, Isadora. I was just another baby, just another kid to snuggle and raise to worship her, then replace.
“That makes perfect sense,” he says.
“It’s lame and we both know it. But don’t you dare even think about calling me Dora.”
“Deal. Isadora it is, and nothing else forever.”
I risk a glance at him and he’s staring at me with his brilliant secret smile, and I quickly turn and fix my eyes determinedly on the horizon; the water is losing its glow. I lie back, willing the constellations to show.
Ry does the same next to me, putting his arms behind his head. He starts saying something but is interrupted by my shriek as the first stars come out. “Yay!”
“What?”
“I’ve missed them so much! If only Orion were out.”
“Umm, what are we talking about here?”
“My stars!” I point up. Now that I’ve seen them, some of the things that had detached inside of me settle into place, where they’re supposed to be. My heart is actually fluttering in my chest I’m so excited. The only thing I need for it to be perfect is Orion. I have to wait a few more months until he’s visible at night again, though.
“Your stars? And Orion?”