Olympus Drive Book 2: Nothing to See Here

Chapter 18

Thyme

"There's not a lot of instant gratification with this plan," I say, doubtfully. My four year old sister and her glittery Strawberry-Shortcake notebook are explaining to me how I can be involved in three different wars at once and I'm excited but it's complicated and sounds like a lot of work just to get into fights.

"Thyme, listen to me, go with this and you can be in three different revolutions at the same time, you only have to learn two new languages it's really not that hard, work with me here," Dara says, tiredly.

"I'm trying! Can't I just stab people?" I sigh. This really sounds more complicated than I'm capable of. I'm gonna forget her plan two minutes after I get on the airplane for Bulgaria.

"No! First we plan, then we stab stab—here I drew pictures, there's plans-- then the picture of you stabbing someone is where you get to start a fight," she says, pushing me her notebook.

"That's----wow you have neat handwriting. Is dad having you address my care packages?" I thought that was too neat to be his handwriting.

"Uhuh he kept spilling wine on it."

"Thyme, honey, stop talking to thin air and help me set the table," so my mom goes to ridiculously extreme lengths to pretend that my dad's love child, does not exist.

"Fine," I roll my eyes at Dara who rolls them back, "Where's grandpa?"

"He went out early to go find whatever gutter your father passed out in," my mom says, very matter-of-factly, as she gets out cereal. The three littles tromp and clank down the stairs bickering.

"Dad left?" did he go to his secret family that we aren't supposed to talk about? Or just off to get drunk? Or to whoever the flavor of the week is? I should find him, before she gets it in her head to. Fuck this feels like high school all over again.

"Yes, at two am. He was out of wine," my mom says, dryly, "Which means he probably passed out somewhere between here and the liquor store. Your grandfather is looking for him."

"I should probably help," he's twice our grandpa's size, he'll never be able to get him back himself if he's drunk. But he's probably not. He's probably shacked up with some undergrad.

"You should probably stay here and help me I haven't had my boy for months," she says, coming to hug me, "And I need your help getting your siblings off to school."

"I don't like going to school," Dara says.

"Neither do I," Isa says.

"Yeah sucks to be you---I'm getting a call it's aunt Della," I say, backing out of the house to the porch.

"Hey, is Jasmine there?" Della asks, when I pick up.

"Um---" will that shithead get her story straight so I have to quit covering for her? When do I get the epic love affair everyone has to cover for? "—yeah she came over and crashed here. I think my dad was gonna drive her home." Yep, covering for both of them. Fuck them off getting laid and making me lie for them.

"Oh. Good. Why did she go there? Why isn't she answering her phone?" Della is not buying it, shit.

"She was looking for an earring, Isa had it of course, then she stayed here and Dad said he was going to drive her back you know I'm sure they got side tracked—look I'm getting another call bye, love you, bye don't call me back---" I hang up.

"Smooth," Dara is standing behind me.

I flip her off.

"She's not feeding me breakfast."