Cupid's Bow Breaks

Chapter 5......Why not to get a minion

We sat at the kitchen counter, talking to her mother as she did the dishes. I’ll admit that they were pretty good sandwiches.

“So, Cupid is a rather unique name.”

“I’m Italian.” I didn’t let slip that I was also older than Italy.

“Oooo. Diana, what a nice catch!” she giggled.

Ok. Something was wrong. Usually, mothers are not that jealous of their daughters’ friends. Or that giggly. She turned and I caught sight of one of my arrows sticking comically out of her…..um…….. backside. I looked up to see the minion pointing one of my own arrows at me. “No,” I screamed. Previous experience being hit by my own arrow (looong story) led me to duck under the table. Bad idea. Now they thought that I was probably mentally retarded. And to make matters worse the minion disappeared before Diana could see him. That minion was going to get it. When I lay my hands on him….ok, I’ll need some time to think of a suitable punishment.

I picked myself sheepishly of the ground. Silence reigned. The TV blared and the baby gurgled. My neck prickled under the dazed gaze of the two females in the room. “Poisonous spider,” I explained, showing them a squished bug in the palm of my hand.

“Ooo. Cute, funny, smart and brave,”said her mother.

“You flatter me,” I said. “But I must get going.”

Behind me there was a soft hiss of air as Diana breathed a sigh of relief.

She walked me to the front door. On the way, we passed her father. On seeing me, he savagely crushed the can he held in his hand, his eyes never leaving my face. Creep.

“See you tomorrow on the roof at two?” I asked at the door.

“We’ll see,”she said before slamming the door shut on my face.