Hestia the Invisible Page 8

  As she continued reading, her dismay only increased. The article was even worse than she’d thought at first glance. Without Hestia’s culinary expertise and guidance, MOA’s kitchen would not run as efficiently as it does. When Ms. Xena (who most students know as the “anteater” lunch lady) almost poisoned the student body with an unhealthy dose of pepper, Hestia wisely removed her from cooking duties and reassigned her to tasks more suited to her abilities, like cleaning and serving meals.

  Feeling sick to her stomach, Hestia had to stop reading. Pheme had vastly overstated her talents and accomplishments at Ms. Xena’s expense.

  And Ms. Okto would be none too pleased if she saw the article either. She was head cook after all, and the efficiency of the kitchen was a credit to her!

  Since no one had been reading the scrollazine at breakfast, copies could only have just arrived at the school, right? Maybe she could get to the kitchen before any of the cafeteria ladies saw Pheme’s column. Then she could explain what she’d really said and how Pheme had twisted her words. She had to put things right!

  Getting up from her table, Hestia handed the scrollazine back to Aphrodite. After mumbling a quick thanks, she made her way to the teacher’s desk at the front of the room. How she wished she had never said yes to Pheme’s interview! She should have stayed hidden and unknown. Life had been safer and simpler that way. The advice those dumb Gray Ladies had given her was just wrong, wrong, wrong! Zeus should fire them from doing counselor work.

  “I don’t feel so well,” she told Hera. She really didn’t, so it wasn’t a lie. Her fingers gripped her schoolbag tightly. “Can I leave?”

  “Oh, that’s too bad,” Hera said sympathetically. “You do look a bit pale. Of course you may go. Perhaps you’d better lie down in your room for a while. Or see the school nurse?”

  There was a nurse at MOA? Hestia hadn’t realized that. But she didn’t really need medical help. Just a place to hide.

  “Thanks,” she said. “I think I’ll try lying down.” But instead of going to her room, she hurried to the cafeteria and dashed inside. When she swung through to the kitchen, she saw that Ms. Okto and a thin, sour-faced part-time assistant named Ms. Mahlab were already starting to get things ready for lunch.

  Seven of Ms. Okto’s eight hands were busy slicing, dicing, and spicing the ingredients for a casserole. Before Hestia could say anything, Ms. Okto waved her one free hand in the air. “I’m so glad you’re here early,” she told Hestia. “Ms. Xena had to leave unexpectedly, so we’re shorthanded for lunch.”

  “Do you know where she went?” Hestia asked anxiously. She moved to the hearth, which she’d lit before breakfast, and lifted the big iron kettle from its hook. Then she went to the sink to fill the pot with water, since she could see that Ms. Mahlab was chopping vegetables for soup.

  Ms. Okto shook her head. “She left too quickly for me to find out. On an urgent errand, she said. But you know how reliable she is. I’m sure she won’t be gone for long if she can help it.”

  Yes, Hestia did know how reliable Ms. Xena was. Yet Pheme’s column had made it seem like the lunch lady was careless and incompetent! “Did she seem upset?” Hestia asked nervously.

  “Would you blame her if she was?” Ms. Mahlab said with a snort. “We all read Pheme’s contribution to the new Teen Scrollazine, and—”

  “I’m so sorry!” Hestia began. “I—”

  “Oh, that silly gossip column,” Ms. Okto interrupted, frowning at the assistant. “I never pay it any attention. That girl could whip up news out of thin air.”

  Ms. Okto was trying to be nice. Still, Hestia’s heart sank when she realized she was too late to shield her friends from any pain that article caused them.

  “Yes, but that story about Ms. Xena—” Ms. Mahlab started to protest.

  Ms. Okto waved one of the five knives she was wielding. “Ms. Xena knows better than to pay any heed to that rag,” she said quickly. Then she thrust a mop at Ms. Mahlab and told her the lunchroom floor needed cleaning. Sulkily, the assistant left the kitchen.

  Since the floor had been sparkling clean as she’d come through the cafeteria, Hestia knew this was just busywork to keep Ms. Mahlab from saying anything more.

  Hestia tried another couple of times to apologize about Pheme’s article, but Ms. Okto brushed her words aside. “I told you, I don’t pay gossip any mind, and neither should you.” Finally, the two of them wound up working silently, side by side. Hestia felt horrible. Had things changed between them forever? That would make her so sad.

  When lunch was ready to serve, Ms. Okto went out to dish up food with Ms. Mahlab. Hestia sat alone in the kitchen to eat. She didn’t feel like subjecting herself to the curiosity of other students. Most of them would have read Pheme’s column by now.

  After she finished lunch, she began to mix up more cake batter, with her banquet dessert in mind. But filled with guilt and believing she was to blame for Ms. Xena’s sudden disappearance, she forgot to put leavening and salt into the batter. When the cake came out of the oven at the beginning of fourth period, it was flat and inedible. She dumped it straight into the garbage.

  And still Ms. Xena hadn’t returned.

  Hestia didn’t want to go back to class. And since Hera would’ve notified the office that she was sick and had left partway through second period, she figured she didn’t have to. So after leaving the kitchen, she escaped to her dorm room, planning to hide out there for the rest of the afternoon.

  But there was really no escape. The minute she entered her room, she saw that a copy of Teen Scrollazine had been shoved under her door with a note attached from Pheme. Here it is. Hot off the presses. Hope you like it!

  “Ha!” snorted Hestia. She picked up the scrollazine and unceremoniously tossed it into her trash can.

  10

  The Mural

  EXHAUSTED BY WORRY, HESTIA LAY down on her bed and closed her eyes. She didn’t intend to fall asleep, but she did. Sometime later she woke with a start. Aglaia was standing over her.

  “Is school out already?” Hestia asked groggily.

  Aglaia nodded. Straightening, she pushed her brown hair behind her ears. “Why weren’t you at lunch or in Hero-ology class?” she said with a look of concern. “Are you sick?”

  Wider awake now, Hestia pushed herself up onto her elbows. “No, I’m okay,” she said, yawning. That wasn’t exactly true. She was still worried about Ms. Xena and Ms. Okto, but the nap had helped to restore her spirits a little.

  “Good,” said Aglaia. “Because a bunch of us are going down to the contest mural unveiling at Zeus’s temple in Olympia. Want to come?” She crossed over to her desk and grabbed a hairbrush from the shelf above it. Peering into the mirror on her closet door, she began to brush out her hair.

  As pleased as Hestia was at the invitation, she still felt reluctant to face other students after what Pheme had written. “I’m not sure. I . . . Have you seen the new Teen Scrollazine?” she asked tentatively.

  Aglaia whirled around and pointed her brush at Hestia. “I knew it! You’re not sick at all.”

  “Yes, I am. I’ve got Teen Scrollazine-itis! It’s a disease caused by humiliation over that article Pheme wrote.” Hestia pulled the covers over her head.

  She heard Aglaia cross the room and felt her roomie sit down beside her. “Hey, turtle girl, come out.”

  Hestia peeked out, lowering the spread so it only covered the lower half of her face up to her nose. “Do I have to?”

  Aglaia sent her a look. With a sigh, Hestia uncovered her whole face.

  “That article was way over-the-top,” Aglaia said. “But when are Pheme’s columns not? Besides, I’m almost glad about what she wrote. You’re way too modest, you know? You deserve some credit for your cooking skills. Didn’t the Gray Ladies advise you not to hide your light?”

  Hestia whipped the covers down and sat up in bed. “Yeah, but Pheme made it seem like I was practically the head cook. I think Ms. Okto’s feelings might be hurt, even th
ough she claims she doesn’t pay any attention to gossip. And what Pheme said about Ms. Xena just wasn’t true!”

  “So talk to them about it,” said Aglaia, going over to riffle through her closet. “But later, because I’m not leaving without you,” she added, a stubborn expression on her face.

  Hestia laugh-groaned and tossed a pillow at her. “Yes, ma’am!” She jumped from her bed to brush her hair and change clothes. It actually felt good to be told what to do by her roommate. Aglaia wouldn’t have insisted that she come unless she really did want to hang out with her. Was Calliope coming too, though? And was it awful of Hestia to hope not?

  “Hey! I like your new no-hood look!” Aglaia enthused, noticing her altered chiton. “Want me to fix your hair in a new style too, now that you’re not covering it?”

  “Really?” Hestia touched her hair, unsure.

  Aglaia grabbed her copy of Teen Scrollazine. “This thing has more than just Pheme’s article, you know. There are some cool hairstyles with instructions in this issue.” She opened the scroll to a page with the heading “Hairstyles That Bring Smiles.”

  As they stood before the tall mirror on one of the closet doors, Aglaia separated Hestia’s hair into five small sections and braided each of them. Then she pulled all the plaits together in back and braided them together.

  “Awesome!” Hestia pronounced when her roomie was finished.

  “Yeah, Calliope told me at lunch that she was going to try one of the new ’zine styles today. This one, in fact,” Aglaia said, pointing to a drawing that showed a girl with her hair done in a high twist.

  “Oh? Is she coming tonight too?” asked Hestia as they both made to leave the room. She hoped her tone of voice didn’t betray her feelings about the idea.

  “Calliope? No,” said Aglaia, opening the door to the hall. “She’s got homework. Hey, she’s trying to find a roommate, so if you think of anybody, let her know, okay?”

  Hestia brightened. Apparently, her worries about Aglaia leaving her for another roommate were all in her head! Sweet! But just in case, she said shyly, “Well, I hope she lucks out with her roommate like I did.”

  Aglaia shot her a smile. “Ditto. Come on, roomie. Let’s hit it!”

  Farther down the hall, they passed Artemis’s room. The door was open and Aphrodite was inside telling her, “No dogs. And wear your nicest chiton. We want to look our best in case we run into adoring mortals on the way to Zeus’s temple.”

  “Yes, sir,” Artemis said, giving her a mock-salute. Seeing Hestia and Aglaia out in the hall, she grinned at them.

  Hestia and Aglaia laughed. “You guys coming to the mural unveiling too?” asked Aglaia. Aphrodite assured her they were. Aphrodite and Artemis had been roommates at one time, Hestia knew. But Artemis’s three dogs and the mess that went with them had been a problem for Aphrodite, so now they roomed next door to each other. They were still best buds, though. Artemis even let Aphrodite use her spare closet for all her extra clothes.

  Fifteen minutes later Hestia and Aglaia boarded one of the two large chariots that would be transporting students to the temple. Theirs was the school’s flashiest one. Its sides were painted deep purple, and it had an enormous gold thunderbolt on the front. The other chariot was painted blue and gold—MOA’s school colors.

  Among the students onboard the purple chariot with them were Hephaestus; Aphrodite and her three BFFs, plus their crushes; Medusa and her crush, Dionysus; and Pandora. Hestia looked around for Pheme but didn’t see her in either chariot. Then she overheard someone say that Pheme had gone ahead to interview Mr. Phintias and the other painters about their mural. Well, those painters had better be careful what they said to her, because who knew what that cloud-letter-puffing goddessgirl might write about them!

  Shortly after takeoff Athena leaned over from her seat across the aisle to speak to Hestia. “I read the article. And I like that you’ve invented so many recipes that make use of my olive. Just wanted to say thanks.”

  “Sure. I mean, you’re welcome,” Hestia replied. “Thank you for inventing it. Olives have so many uses, and it has such great flavor.”

  “Yeah, ahlove them,” joked Heracles, who was sitting by Athena.

  Overhearing, Ares, the godboy of war, turned to smile over his shoulder at Hestia. He and Aphrodite were sitting just one seat ahead. “I don’t like to cook,” he admitted. “But I’m really good at the eating part. So if you ever need a taste tester, I’m your guy.”

  Those students sitting close enough to hear him all laughed. Hestia got several more offers for taste testing, including one from Aphrodite.

  Looping her golden hair behind her ears, Aphrodite smiled at Hestia. “I know Pheme exaggerated some things. Still, I’m glad for her article. You’ve always been so quiet, but now we know you’re far from ordinary. You’re a goddessgirl of mega-talent!

  Hestia beamed. “Thank you.” It was absolutely the nicest thing the goddessgirl could have said to her, especially after commenting only days ago that an ordinary cooking pot fit her personality. Still, she made a point of correcting the exaggerations and errors in Pheme’s article. “I only thought up some of the dishes on the menu, and I learned everything I know about cooking from Ms. Okto and Ms. Xena.”

  “Who?” asked Ares.

  Hestia described the lunch ladies for anyone who didn’t know their names. She was surprised and pleased when more and more students wanted to talk with her about food prep techniques and recipes. Most had at least one favorite dish they wished they knew how to make.

  Her natural shyness melted away as she talked knowledgeably and enthusiastically about her favorite subject, cooking! As she was answering a question from Persephone about bread making, their chariot and the blue-and-gold one both arrived at the limestone temple in Olympia. It seemed to her that the trip had flown by, and not just because the chariots were winged!

  The students climbed the steps to the most famous of all the temples in Greece, just as Mr. Phintias and the other artists were leaving. Hestia glanced up at the magnificent temple. She counted six columns across its front. There was probably double that number on each of its sides, she thought. And each column was nearly five times as tall as Zeus himself!

  She glimpsed Asca up ahead of her, walking with a couple of his godboy pals. He hadn’t been aboard her chariot, so he must have come on the blue-and-gold one.

  Then Hestia stopped cold. Pheme was interviewing one of the painters on the temple steps! Catching Hestia’s eye, she smiled cheerfully and gave her a thumbs-up. Like she had no clue anything was wrong with what she’d done.

  Though Hestia returned the smile, hers was a little wobbly. She sped up, not giving Pheme the chance to speak. The ill will she’d felt toward gossipy girl had softened during the ride over, but she wasn’t ready to forgive her.

  “Hey, wait up!” someone called to her a few seconds later. It was Antheia, the goddessgirl of flowering wreaths, who was also Iris’s BFF. Hestia waited for her on the steps.

  “Just wanted to ask you to let Iris and me know when you decide on a date to start your cooking classes, okay?” Antheia told her breathlessly once she’d caught up. The cute wreath of ferns and berries that encircled her straight brown hair like a crown had slipped sideways as she’d run. She straightened it as they both continued up the steps, adding, “Pheme told us about the classes, and we want to sign up.”

  Sounded like Pheme was spreading more misinformation! Hestia had never said a word about teaching other students to cook. “Wasn’t that a great article Pheme wrote about you?” Antheia went on. “She shared some of her ideas with Iris and me while she was writing it. She worked really hard to get it just right. I could tell she wanted you to like it.”

  Hearing this, Hestia felt a bit of her ill will toward Pheme dribble away, like water down a sink. She knew Pheme probably hadn’t meant any harm. In that girl’s mind she had only been helping. Though Hestia might wish she had gone about it a little differently, Pheme was . . . after all
, Pheme. Accuracy was not her strong point. No changing that!

  “It was . . . nice of her to write it,” she told Antheia. “And nice of you and Iris to help her. Thanks.”

  “Well, let me know about the classes,” Antheia said when Iris called to her from up ahead. “I want to learn to cook with some of the edible flowers I make into wreaths—put the flowers into muffins and stuff like that!”

  “Oh, but . . . ,” Hestia began, intending to tell her that Pheme had made a mistake about the classes. However, Antheia was already racing off.

  When Hestia entered the temple a few minutes later, the first thing to catch her eye was the golden statue of Zeus seated on a throne at one end. It was hard to miss. It was huge. In fact, it was one of the Seven Wonders of the World!

  She scanned the room, noting the large, ornate vases that sat in each corner. Part of the side wall was covered with a red silk curtain that she decided probably veiled the mural. Once the temple had filled with onlookers, a lady with gray hair, styled about a foot high on her head like whipped cream on a fancy dessert, stepped in front of the curtain.

  She called for quiet and then addressed the crowd. “As head of the committee for the first annual Service to Humankind Award contest, it is my pleasure to reveal the eleven finalists tonight! All are Mount Olympus Academy students this committee has selected from a sign-up sheet posted in the Academy hall in recent days,” she continued, building suspense. “It is from among these eleven that mortals will vote to choose one—and only one—for top honors. Voting will begin at sunrise on Friday and end at sunset.”

  The woman stepped toward the red silk curtain. “The masterpiece depicting the finalists that I am about to unveil will remain on this temple wall to be admired by mortals for an eternity to come! So, with no further ado—” She grabbed the edge of the curtain and swept it back.