Call it a Myth

Chapter 1

She was calling, again. It was the fourth time today but I hadn't wanted to talk to her. I haven't felt the need. She chose to leave, but she didn't get to choose when I was going to be okay with having her gone.
​
"You going to answer that?" Phoebe asked. I stopped twiddling my pen in between my fingers and glanced up at her. Her gaze was still focused on the book in front of her. She made herself a reading list for the summer and set a goal to have each book done by July 4th. It was only June 3rd and she had already gone through a fourth of it. I had tried to convince her to slow down a bit but when Phoebe gets an idea into her head she doesn't break from it.
​
My phone buzzed again.
​
Phoebe looked up from her book, giving me an annoyed glare. "Seriously? At least turn it off."
​
"Yeah, sorry." I mumbled grabbing my phone. Mom's name was printed in capital letters across the screen. I almost picked it up, but then I thought against, declined the call, and put it on silent before shoving it deep into my purse. When I looked again at Phoebe she was already back into her book, worlds away from me, so much for catching up after the week of barely seeing each other.
​
Before school ended we had made so many plans for the summer, we even made a summer bucket list, both of us agreeing to make this summer worthwhile because next year was our last year of high school. We'd be seniors and have to spend the year wrapping up the four years we spent towards graduation and planning for what comes next. This would be the last real summer before everything changes, before everything becomes real. I wanted to spend it going to bonfires every night, taking crazy road trips like we dreamed, not sitting in Omali's Café twirling a pen that ran out of ink an hour ago with my best friend sitting across from me with her nose in a book.
​
The waitress came by, a pitcher of coffee in her hands. "Refill?" She motioned to our cups. I nodded pushing my cup towards her letting her fill it to the brim. When the women went to fill Phoebe's she put her hand over it.
​
"No thanks, I'm about to head out soon." 
​
Head out where? Back home to read, more? I rolled my eyes adding creamer then sugar to my coffee. The waitress didn't say anything as she left the table and headed back to the kitchen.

​I picked up my spoon and stirred. Phoebe had closed her book, carefully marking her exact place on the page, no doubt prepared to pick up right where she left off once she had gotten back home, with no distractions. Who was this girl in front of me stuffing her book into her bag before pulling out a twenty to cover for her meal and the coffee? She slapped it onto the table as if this signified her departure.
​
She wasn't even willing to stay long enough to go to the register to pay. When had she gotten this caught up in her book reading goal?
​Phoebe stood up, pulling her book bag onto her shoulder. "Well this was fun, but I've got to run. Books to finish, characters to meet, I'm almost halfway to my goal, you know." She said.

"Wow...exciting." I said taking a sip of the coffee. It was bitter and needed more sugar.

"Yeah, well I'll see you around." Phoebe said giving me a brisk wave before she turned to leave.

"See ya, Phoebes." I finished to myself. I looked down to my open notebook, the top of the page had Summer Bucket List written across it beneath was a page full of bullet points. I had meant to mention to Phoebe about starting on the list, but it slipped my mind when she came in here, ordered and cracked open her latest book.
​
I looked over at the neon clock on the wall. It was nine thirty, still early enough to start a summer night adventure. I looked back to the empty booth across from me. Looks like the list would have to wait.

***
​
Dad came into my room early the next morning searching for his mythology book I had borrowed for a school project but had forgotten to return. He was assigned to write an article for the local newspaper about the new texts found in Greece. "I think they may really be onto something here." He was saying as he lifted a t-shirt off my desk to see if the book was hidden underneath. Just barely waking up, I was only half listening as he explained how he wanted to incorporate some of the ancient Greek myths into his upcoming article.
​I rolled over throwing the covers off of me and placed my feet on the floor. Dad was scanning my bookshelf.
​
"Athena, Helen of Troy, Aphrodite, all the greats are mentioned in these new text, Nyx, this could be huge!" Dad continued. He lifted his hands indicating how important this was. Ever since I can remember my father has been obsessed with Greek mythology, and Greek Gods, and Goddesses. In his office he has a secret bookshelf filled with stories, facts, and Greek history. My mother hated his enthusiasm about the Greek gods, said they were a waste of time and it would've been better for my father to focus more of his time reading about things that were real and concrete, like the books she used to keep on the shelf in the living room about the brain and the human body.
​
If my father was the dreamer, my mother was the realist. I had often wondered how they even had gotten married in the first place when all I had seen mom do was shoot down Dad's fascination with fantasy and encourage him to be more like her, an accountant who knew facts and statistics. It wasn't until a month ago, when they first told me about the divorce, that I finally understood the extremity of their differences.
​
They both explained to me that they had been out of love for a long time before they finally reached the decision. We had this huge discussion about how they still loved me very much, that wasn't going to change, and that Mom would try to keep in touch once she moved out, but I hadn't listened much to the speech. I heard about it before from the kids at my school whose parents had gotten divorced long ago. I knew how this kind of thing went. The only shock was that I didn't see this coming. All the signs were right there in front of me.

My mother staying out later, and later, each night before returning home for me to find her passed out on the couch the next morning. And my dad, investing himself in his articles for the newspaper, claiming he was busier than ever.
In all honesty I should've seen the divorce coming way before I was told about it, yet, it blindsided me and I couldn't help but to ignore my mother's attempts to contact me after I'd seen her at Al's Groceries shopping with a man I'd never seen before, a week after she officially packed her stuff and moved out.
​
Now, before me, my dad was still searching for the mythology book. It was in my backpack, never taken back out after I had finished it. Standing up I walked over to my bag and unzipped the first pocket, like I predicted the book was nestled deep in there. I pulled it out and handed it to my dad who was still going on about the important discovery that is going to be made, and how he's going to play a part in it.

​"This is going to help change the world." He teased opening the book up and flipping through the pages before closing it to tap it once on my head.

​"I hope so, that book earned me an A in English."
​
Dad laughed. "The Greeks are quite magical, almost miracle workers." He winked and walked over to my door. He was about to leave when he stopped. "By the way, your Mom called."
​
Sitting back on my bed I reached down and grabbed a pair of socks from the floor then slipped each one on carefully. "So?"

​"She's your mother. You have to speak to her sometime."

​"I will when I'm ready, I promise." I say reaching up to take my hair out of the bun I slept in. Out of all things I expected from my mother, I wasn't expecting her to call my dad in order to talk to me.
​
"Good, you have a phone for a reason, Nyx." He says pointing with his book in hand to my cellphone laying on my night stand, where it was still plugged into the charger. "Anyway, breakfast burritos are in the kitchen if you want some." I watched as Dad tapped my door frame with the book before leaving my room, probably headed to his office to get to work on the news article.
​
Shortly after he left I grabbed my phone from my nightstand. There was a missed call from Mom. I thought about what my dad said. He was right, I'd have to answer her one of these days, but today wasn't that day. So I deleted the call from my recent callers list, left my room, and headed down stairs to eat.