“They?”

“The Lords are some hoity-toity extended family from the East Coast or something. They send a few of their kids here every few years. These new guys must be younger cousins to the ones who came last time. I guess there was some kind of mix-up, because nobody knew they were coming to school until yesterday. There wouldn’t have been room for them if it hadn’t been for the big ole donation checks they showed up with.”

I raise my eyebrows at this flood of coherent information from Bridgette, who had seemed a little vacant up until this moment.

“What?” she asks. “My dad is on the school board. You didn’t think I got into this school because of my smarts, did you? My mom’s movies aren’t that good.” She smiles. “Dad was in a tizzy over the Lord boys at breakfast this morning.”

“What else do you know about them?”

“There are two of them going to school. One is a freshman, named Garrick, and the other is a junior. Since this is junior humanities, I’m assuming that means this one is Haden. Oh, and they’re staying at that really big house on Athena Way.”

I nod, even though I don’t know which house she’s talking about. All of the houses in Olympus Hills seem big enough to hold half of Ellis Fields in their main floors.

Before I can ask any more questions, someone pushes between Bridgette and me, knocking my shoulder into the doorjamb.

“Bridgette,” Lexie snaps at her friend.

“Oh yeah. I’m not supposed to talk to you anymore,” Bridgette says, and hurries after Lexie. They sit with a group of Sopranos in the first row. Each one deliberately not looking at me.

The bell rings, and the only seat left is in the second row. It’s directly behind Lexie. Great. But the worst thing about it is that it means I can’t see this Haden guy unless I deliberately turn back to look at him. I pause before sitting, to watch him. I wish he’d look up. I want to see his eyes again. I want to know if they’re bright and fiery like I remember. I need to know if he’s the same person I met in the grove.

“If everyone will sit, we will get started,” a tall, thin woman with red, curly hair says. I assume she must be Ms. Leeds, despite the leopard-print miniskirt she’s wearing.

I turn my back to Haden and slip into my seat.

“I trust last night’s events did not prevent anyone from finishing the reading.”

I pull out the iPad Marta had presented me with yesterday afternoon—she said it was preloaded with all of the books I might possibly need at OHH—as a collective groan echoes through the classroom. I would have joined in if I hadn’t turned to studying in an attempt to lull myself to sleep at three this morning. I ended up reading a third of the book before my alarm clock went off. It was either that or call Jonathan again, and I didn’t think he’d appreciate that.

Ms. Leeds makes a tsking noise. “I was hoping now that Mr. Morgan has announced the subject of the school musical, your interest in our Greek mythology unit would have heightened. Mr. Morgan tells me you will be focusing on the story of Orpheus, the tale of the great musician who traveled to the underworld to bring back his wife, Eurydice, from the dead. It’s an interesting story, but I thought we might back things up a bit and study some of the earlier myths of the underworld before revisiting Orpheus. Mr. Morgan will be very pleased if those of you in the music and theatre tracks actually have a clue of what it is you’re singing about.”

Lexie sits at greater attention as Ms. Leeds opens her notes and sets them on a podium. She’s dedicated, I’ll give her that.

“Now, who here knows who Persephone is?”

Lexie and I both raise our hands at the same time.

“Ah, we get to hear from one of our new students. Daphne, yes?” Ms. Leeds says to me.

I nod.

“Enlighten us with your knowledge, Daphne.” Lexie lowers her hand.

“Persephone was the goddess of springtime. She lived on earth with her mother, Demeter, until she was kidnapped by Hades and forced to go to the underworld to live with him. Her mother, who happened to be the goddess of the harvest, wanted her back, and caused a big famine until Zeus told his brother Hades that he had to send Persephone home. Hades, being an evil jerk, tricked Persephone into eating six pomegranate seeds, which meant she was now tied to the underworld for six months out of the year. That is supposedly where the seasons of the year come from. Spring and summer are beautiful and lush because Demeter was happy that her daughter was with her, and fall and winter are crappy because that’s when Demeter was sad, because Persephone was forced to be in the underworld with Hades during those months.”

“Colorful interpretation of the story,” Ms. Leeds says. “Though I find it interesting that you refer to Hades as being an ‘evil jerk.’ Why do you say this?”

“He’s the devil, isn’t he? Keeper of hell and all that.”

“No,” Ms. Leeds says. “While most scholars agree that the idea of Hades may have been the precursor to the medieval Christian concept of the devil, they were actually quite different.”

“But they both like dead people!” Bridgette says enthusiastically.

I can hear the eye roll coming off Lexie.

“Yes. True … somewhat,” Ms. Leeds says. “They are both the keepers of the souls of the dead. However, the Christian devil is traditionally known to claim only the souls of sinners, while Hades was believed to oversee all of the dead, whether they were good or bad.”

Bridgette nods as if that’s what she’d meant to say all along.

“It is also interesting to note that Hades was not only the god of the underworld, but he was also believed to be the god of wealth. As gold, jewels, and other precious metals come from beneath the Earth—which was believed to be the location of Hades’s realm. Many people would pray to Hades and make bargains with him in exchange for wealth and power. Some scholars think this may have been where the concept of ‘selling your soul to the devil’ arose in Christian beliefs. But what about the symbolism of these two figures?” Ms. Leeds asks, looking at Bridgette. “The Christian devil is widely accepted as the embodiment of evil—a fallen angel. But what about Hades? Is he a figure of evil in the Greek mythos?”

Bridgette shrugs.

“Anyone else?” the teacher asks.

Lexie and I raise our hands at the same time again.