His Shortcake

Chapter 31

Tamara Ramirez

"This is going to be a long day," Apollo grunts from the driver's seat of the Jeep. Artemis, somehow, has managed to interrogate Apollo about his so-called love life as they wait for me in the car, much to his dismay.

Suddenly, Artemis' hand strikes the back of Apollo's head with a loud slap. "Drive, you idiot. I can't believe you're trying to get in her pants."

Grumbling, Apollo complies. "Brute," he mutters bitterly, rubbing the spot where Artemis hit him. "No one's ever going to date you."

"Stop it!" I snap, catching Artemis raising her hand to retaliate. Sometimes, I feel more like a mother to these two than their friend. "You guys act like kids," I mumble under my breath as they continue exchanging glares.

By some miracle, we make it to the mall without crashing, though my ears are ringing from their constant bickering. Now that we're out of the car, things only escalate as they're free to hiss and smack at each other while we make our way to the nearest Starbucks.

"I can't believe you! Her? Of all people?" Artemis exclaims for what feels like the hundredth time as we settle down at a corner table in the bustling coffee shop. The air is thick with the comforting scent of freshly brewed coffee and warm pastries, and the constant chatter of people surrounds us.

"Can you stop? Scarlett is a good person," Apollo retorts, pulling out a few bills from his wallet. "Are we ordering or what? I'm starving."

"We are not done talking, Apollo," Artemis says sharply, her voice tense and full of warning. Her glare is locked onto him with an intensity I rarely see. Something about Scarlett seems to be digging at her far more than we expected. Her reaction, though predictable, is erupting out of her in stronger waves than usual, like there's something about Scarlett that's striking a deep, hidden nerve.

Apollo brushes off his sister's words as if they mean nothing and heads to the counter without another glance.

"What was that?" I ask Artemis, leaning in closer. She's known to overreact, but this feels different, more intense. She glances at me briefly before her worried eyes dart back to Apollo.

"Artemis," I say, more firmly this time, snapping her attention back to me.

Artemis shakes her head. "It's nothing," she says, but her eyes tell a different story. I can see the lie in them, a flicker of unease. "I'm just worried about him. He's never been this smitten with anyone before. If this goes south... he might not handle it well."

I raise an eyebrow at her. "He's nineteen, Art. He can handle it. And if he can't, you'll be there for him, won't you?" I say, watching her drop her gaze to her lap.

"I'm scared for him," she admits quietly. "He acts like an asshole, but he's not good with... stuff like this."

"That's why we're here," I reply with a reassuring smile. "To help him, if it comes to that."

Artemis isn't being difficult just to make a scene. It feels like something deeper, more complex, is at play. Seeing Artemis act sweet and concerned about Apollo is a rare, almost foreign, sight—something you only witness once in a lifetime.

Apollo returns, holding a tray with our order. Instead of sitting down right away, he lingers by the counter, probably avoiding another round of Artemis's questioning. But as soon as he joins us, the awkward silence at the table makes him pause. He glances between us, immediately sensing the shift in the air. Something had happened in the fifteen minutes he was gone, and it doesn't take a genius to figure it out.

He places our drinks in front of us, along with the pastry we ordered, but the tension hangs thick, unspoken yet undeniable.

"So?" Artemis asks as soon as Apollo sits down, her tone sharp. I can see the exhaustion in his eyes as he looks at her, already worn out from the relentless interrogation.