Absolute Mortality

Chapter 8

Alright, I am the king of engineering. I can make all kinds of complicated things. My mom was a mechanic and my dad is a world renown inventor. My mom taught me a lot of her skills before she died when I was seven. My dad, who is still alive, continues teaching me his ingenuity when it comes to contraption making.

So that's why it's a surprise to say that my Engineering class is my least favorite. I picked it so that I could craft things during school without being yelled at. I may have also possibly chosen it for the ego boost when my classmates and teacher see my mad skills.

But was I wrong. First, the class is hella boring. The teacher has us doing basic stuff like making boxes out of paper that will hold no more than forty and no less than fifty kidney beans.

But that wasn't the worst of it. I completed my box in a class period and the teacher just let me do whatever I want until we start a new project. So what's the problem?

Apparently I have an arch nemesis. A beautiful diva with dark almond eyes and caramel hair and she was totally rocking that red shirt. That's unimportant.

What is important, she hates me and I have no idea why. A little less than halfway through sophomore year, I accidentally bump into her in the hallway and knock her books out of her hands. I attempted apologizing and helping her pick up her books, but she yelled at me ruthlessly. After being made absolutely embarrassed, I left without helping her with her books because she wouldn't let me.

But that wasn't the extent of it. Second semester that year, we had English together. Luckily, the teacher didn't give us a seating chart and I was free to sit as far away from her as possible. The issue here was that the teacher absolutely loved to give us group projects to do and we were never allowed to pick our partners.

We were "randomly" paired together no less than three times. The first time, I tried taking the high road. I'd been nice, tried apologizing about me knocking her over, and overall being the amazing stand up guy I totally am. But she wasn't having it. I eventually gave up and returned her hatred because man was she annoying.

We never got more than a D on those projects we did together because she was too busy yelling at me to contribute.

Thankfully, that was the only class we had together that year. But that brings us to this year, junior year. First day of engineering, the teacher starts calling out names and pointing to chairs. There's no way I'll be seated next to her, I'd thought to myself. No one's that unlucky.

Yeah, someone is that unlucky. That someone's name is Leo Valdez.

The class was filled with two person tables. The teacher pointed to one in the back and said, "Leo Valdez." I sat down and immediately after, the teacher said, "Calypso Martinez," and pointed to the seat next to me. She walked toward me, glaring daggers all the while, and sat down.

The first week was a little rocky. We'd both attempted a new method of hatred: silence. While she still glared at me constantly, not a word was spoken. It was bearable, at the very least. But of course that didn't last.

The Monday after the first week of school, the teacher called roll and then went to the front of the class to explain our next project.

"You'll be working in groups of two," she said. A very faint bubble of hope formed inside me. "Your partner will be the person sitting next to you." The bubble popped.

"Great," Calypso muttered.

"You don't have to sound so disappointed, Sunshine," I said.

"Your project is to build a Rube Goldberg machine," the teacher continued. "Raise your hand if you don't know what that is." No one raised their hand. "Excellent. Your criteria:" she pulled the cap off a marker and turned to face the board. "It must be the size of your table. It must have at least fifteen steps. The final outcome must be relatively simple. An example would be a sign popping up with a message on it. The final outcome mustn't be complex. But for the steps leading up to the finale, the more complex the better. You'll be graded based on creativity. And when everyone's done, we'll vote on who's we like the most. Whoever wins the vote will get extra credit. Is everyone understood?" The class nodded. "Excellent. Now get to planning. It is due next Wednesday. We'll present on the following Thursday and Friday. You have access to every material in the storage closet. But if you'll likely need to obtain your own supplies as well."

"Brilliant," Calypso said. "Finally a project I might have some interest in and I'm paired with you."

"Alright, Sunshine," I said. "What the hell is your problem?"

"Stop calling me Sunshine!" she hissed.

"I know you can't be holding a grudge against me because I accidentally knocked you over one time. So what the f**k is it?"

"What is it? Well you're annoying, for one."

"You've hated me since you first laid eyes on me. Before you even got the chance to see how annoying I am."

"I'm not going to talk about this with you."

"Talk about what?"

She didn't say anything. I looked at her face which no longer showed anger, but. . . sadness?

"Fine," I said. "Don't tell me. Continue hating me for absolutely no reason. Now let's actually start work on this project. You ruined English for me last year, I'm not letting you ruin Engineering."

"Oh, I ruined English for you?"

"Yeah," I said. "You can't possibly believe that I had any fault in you relentlessly yelling at me for the tiniest things."

She opened her mouth, probably to make a retort, but closed it quickly. Possibly out of agresance? Hah! Like Calypso would admit she was in the wrong.

"Fine," she said.

"Fine what?" I said.

"I'm willing to be civil so we can work on the project as long as you are too."

I was both surprised and suspicious to if she would live up to that statement.

"Good," I said. "I have read and agree to the terms of service."

A corner of her mouth twitched. Did I imagine it, or did I actually almost make Calypso smile?

I reached into my bag and pulled out a piece of paper. I twisted my pencil between my fingers.

"Well?" I said. "Let's begin."

That Saturday I walked up a flight of stairs from mine and Jason's dorm and went down the hallway until I found the number I was looking for. I knocked on the door and thirty seconds later, it opened.

"Valdez," Calypso said. She appeared to have just gotten out of bed, but she still looked beautiful. Uh, that's unimportant.

"Sunshine," I said. She scowled but stepped aside to let me enter. "Where's your roommate?" I asked.

"I don't have one," she said.

"How do you not have one?"

"A dorm fits two people. There are an uneven amount of junior girls. So I'm left in this dorm alone," she said irritably.

"Alright," I said. I set our complete Rube Goldberg machine blueprints on her desk. "You got the things from the supply closet?"

She pointed to the other bed which was piled with all sorts of random materials. "We're still missing quite a bit," she said.

"I guess we'll have to go buy it."

"Do you want to do that now, or do what we can first?"

"We can do it now. I work better without having to stop midway through."

"Okay. Let's go then. We can take my car." She opened the door and exited. I followed her, closing the door behind me.

We entered the parking lot and stopped at a blue Aston Martin. I whistled.

"DB9?" I said. "2005? No, 2006. Damn. I didn't know you were loaded."

"I didn't ask for it," she said. "When I got my license, my father gave it to me as a surprise."

She walked to the driver door and opened it. I opened the passenger door and stepped in.

"What's your father do?" I asked as I pulled on my seatbelt.

"He runs a business," she said as the car kicked into ignition and we began to move. "He pretty much does most of the work himself. He's never around. The few times I do see him he looks as if he'd carried the world on his shoulders."

"Have I heard of the business?" I said.

"Likely. It's Atlas Inc."

"Wait, your father is Atlas Maxwell? That guy has been trying to put my friend's dad out of business for years!"

"I never said I was proud of my parentage," she said. "My mother raised me by herself. When she died about five years ago, he 'took me in,' if you can call it that. He basically just threw me into a large apartment and sends people to cook for me and make sure I'm alive."

"So you don't like him?"

"No." That was the end of the conversation.

A/N: Alright. There's your introduction to Caleo. Sorry if you're anxious to get to the Percabeth parts, but I needed a good time skip and wanted to get Calypso introduced.

Next chapter I think you'll be very pleased with. ;)