Goddess Academy Read online

  Copyright © 2019 by Clara Hartley

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Afterword

  Also by Clara Hartley

  One

  When having a shit day, eat cake.

  I shoved the last, giant spoonful of it into my mouth, not caring that the empty calories probably shot straight to my waistline. Who cared about calories? My chest hurt so much that I wanted to die. So what if I got fat?

  Fuck boyfriends.

  I couldn’t rely on them. Max had promised that he’d love me and care for me till we grew old. He’d told me I was the only girl for him and proclaimed we were soul mates. He’d said all that stupid, soppy shit, then proceeded to tear my heart out and throw it out the window.

  She wasn’t even that hot.

  I cupped my boobs. Yeah, I had bigger tits, so why did he choose her over me?

  I stared at the streamers on the ground and held my tears in. Those streamers were meant for his birthday. I’d snuck into his place early, wanting to give him a surprise, but I’d gotten the surprise instead. He had his dick in some Asian chick with pretty fuck-me eyes.

  I picked the streamers up and flung them across the street in a fit of rage. “Go to hell, Max!” An ugly cry tore from my throat. I grabbed a tissue from the packet I’d just bought and blew into it. I needed to buy more.

  An elderly woman who’d just parked her gave me a weird look. “Mind your language, young lady.”

  “Yeah, yeah, whatever. I hope you have a horrid day, too. You’re old and going to die soon.”

  “Excuse me?” She inched back.

  “You’re old and going to die soon. We’re all getting older every day. I’m just saying it like it is.”

  She gaped at me. “I don’t waste time with people like you.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Skedaddle, then.”

  She turned her flat nose up, then stomped off into the clinic that was next to the convenience store I sat outside.

  “You’ve gone ahead and ruined someone else’s day,” I muttered to myself. I rested my cheeks into my palms. “Aren’t you happy now, Cara? You’re just a black hole of unhappiness, sucking all the joy out of everything.” Great, now I was talking to myself in third person. I was so heartbroken that I was going mad.

  All I wanted was to curl up in a ball and cry on the pavement pathetically, like a shriveling shroom, but I’d decided that was too depressing, even for me, so I forced myself to my feet. What was I to do with my life now? I’d centered it too much around Max. We were supposed to get married in the fall. I’d been window-shopping for wedding dresses. He told me he was going to get me a ring, but I’d never seen one. I’d been too trusting.

  Less thinking. More cake.

  I tossed the empty packaging of my finished dessert in the trash can and went back into the store. I stopped at the dessert aisle and inspected the possible loot. Some pop song blared from the speakers. I didn’t recognize the tune, but the girl at the cashier did a little dance to it.

  I tore my eyes away from the girl and refocused my attention on the snack aisle. The different cakes were packed and arranged in neat boxes. I went for the red velvet flavor. I always went for that one. “The color of pain and blood topped with cream cheese,” I said to myself. I really needed to stop voicing my dark thoughts aloud.

  “Aren’t you just a bundle of joy?”

  I jolted, then spun to my right. I hadn’t noticed the man standing next to me. Lifting both brows, I stared at him. “Did you just walk out of a magazine ad?” And did I really just say that out loud?

  He laughed. “What?”

  “Uh, nothing.” The man was absolutely gorgeous. Medium-length, swept-back hair. Eyes that looked like the ocean on a sunny day. There were little specks of green in his irises that sent flutters through my chest. His laughter revealed a perfect row of teeth, but his nose was slightly crooked. The imperfection only served to make him look more flawless. He wore a tight shirt that hugged his muscular frame. His shoulders were squared and broad and masculine. I wanted to run my fingers over them, and I could stare all day at his biceps.

  “Biceps are an odd thing to stare at,” he said.

  “Huh?”

  He pointed at me. “You said you could stare all day at my biceps. They’re really just lumps of muscle.”

  I cringed. Did I admit to that? “I blame it on the heartbreak hangover.”

  “What’s that?” he asked, his smile not dropping.

  “It’s when you’re so sad, you get physical symptoms of a hangover. You know, the usual. Headaches, vomiting, body aches. Giant hole in chest.”

  “Need to talk about it?”

  I blinked. I didn’t really have anybody to talk to, and this man’s offer sounded nice. The world had gotten so cold, and Max had taken up so much of my time in the past. I didn’t have any to make friends. Lydia, my foster mother, was living her retirement traveling. I didn’t know whether she was in South Africa or Tokyo.

  Still, despite the tempting offer, I wouldn’t pour the contents of my heart out to a stranger I didn’t know.

  “No,” I replied. “I don’t even know your first name.”

  “I’m Hansel,” he said.

  “And I’m Gretel.”

  “Really?”

  “Sure,” I said, deciding to go with the flow. I probably wasn’t going to meet him again after this encounter.

  “You have the sugar part down.” He glanced at the red velvet cake I was holding. “Are you going to finish that all by yourself?” I’d picked up a whole cake. I realized one slice wasn’t enough, and tiny portions were for babies who hadn’t gone through the cruel hardships of life yet.

  I shrugged. “What about it?”

  “I’ll get the vanilla flavor,” he said. “We can share.”

  “Vanilla?” I asked, tilting my head. “That’s so yellow. So plain. So… vanilla.”

  “What are you, a professional cake taster?”

  I screwed my nose up. “We can go with that.”

  “I have this feeling you’re not being honest with me.” He grinned, and the corners of his eyes crinkled. Damn. He looked way too hot when he smiled. All thoughts of Max melted away. The hormones from my ovaries took control. Heartbreak? What heartbreak? I stood before a god.

  As I made my way to the cashier, Hansel hastily picked up two beers. He lifted the can and winked at me. My lady parts went wild at the sight. “Can’t have a proper therapy session without some alcohol,” he said.

  “We’re having a therapy session now? Thought you were just picking me up.”

  “We can be doing whatever you want.”

  My insides coiled.

  The cashier squinted at me. Her gaze flicked back and forth between Hansel and me. “What’s wrong with your mascara?” she asked. She blew a bubble of gum. It popped, then she gathered it into her mouth again to continue chewing it in an annoying manner. “Crybaby, huh?” she asked, glancing at Hansel and winking at him. She turned back to me. “You look like you were having a shit day. Boohoo.”

  What a bitch. Couldn’t she see that I’d been grieving?
/>
  “What about you?” I asked. “You look like some metal band just puked all over you.” She had the goth look down pat. She probably went through ten bottles of mascara a month.

  “I don’t like my life. I call it my mask. I use mascara to hide my pain. Like it?”

  “Not really.”

  The cashier rolled her eyes at me in typical bitch fashion. “That’ll be ten dollars and fifty cents.” She spread her hand out, showing me her horribly manicured nails.

  Before I could fish out my wallet, Hansel passed the cashier two ten-dollar bills. The cashier’s mood brightened immediately after their hands touched. It must have been nice to be him. He was so hot that his presence cured depression.

  “Come again,” she said, leaning over the counter. She pushed her boobs up, squeezing them together so they formed a deep cleavage. I spotted patches of beige there. The cashier put makeup on her boobs?

  I shook my head. Her desperation was gross.

  Hansel put his hand on the small of my back and led me out of the convenience store. I ignored the heat burning from where he touched, then sat at the same spot I’d picked earlier. Before I re-entered the convenience store, I’d left a mess of tissue papers at the curbside, and they were still sprawled all over the place. “I swear,” I said, “I was going to clean that up later.”

  His gaze lit up with amusement. “I’m not pointing any fingers.” In one smooth movement, he sat down next to me. Pull yourself together, Cara! Watching him moving like that made me almost drool, and all he’d done was sit his ass down. He opened a beer can. It hissed. “So,” he began. “What happened to you?”

  I drew my tongue over my upper lip, considering whether to tell him. “Boyfriend cheated.”

  “Ah.” Hansel gave me a sorry look, which, because I didn’t want to be pitied, aggravated me.

  “No need to feel sorry for me. It was his loss. I paid for most of the rent, anyway. Made breakfast every day. Mopped the floor, vacuumed the place. Good luck finding another girl like me. I even gave him morning blow jobs. Which chick does that?”

  Hansel raised his brows. “Morning blow jobs.”

  I sighed. “You might look like you stepped out of a Hollywood movie, but you’re just a typical guy, focusing on the damn blow jobs.”

  “I’m just pointing out how much of a gem you are.”

  “Is this how you normally hit on girls?”

  “I don’t usually hit on them.”

  “Oh yeah, they just fall on your feet and offer to wash your laundry.”

  “It’s not that, either.” Hansel took a large swig of his beer. He seemed more interested in beer than his cake. I, however, had a sweet tooth. I shoved a huge mouthful of red velvet into my mouth, not caring that I was experiencing third-degree sugar overload.

  “I’m not understanding you at all,” I said between my chewing. A guy as hot as him must have had girls falling at his feet, begging to suck his dick. He didn’t have to wait on me to give him a morning blow job.

  “Meeting girls isn’t something I do often.”

  “Uh, why?”

  Hansel stared at the lamppost forlornly, all mysterious-like. “You’ll find out soon enough.” He wasn’t the dark and mysterious type, however, not with his full head of blond hair and beach-boy looks. He seemed nice, and the kind to wear his heart on his sleeve. I might have been assuming too much from just his friendly front.

  “You’re right, though,” Hansel said, smiling from underneath his fringe. “It was his loss. I barely know you, but you seem like an awesome girl who doesn’t give a fuck.” He leaned over. My heart raced as he reached up and wiped some leftover cake from the side of my lip. My stomach did little somersaults and my mind blanked.

  He put his thumb in his mouth and licked the cake crumbs off.

  Inside, I combusted. I darted my eyes away from him and stared at the comparatively less interesting asphalt of the road. “So, what’s a guy like you doing out here so late?”

  “Wanted a beer,” he said. “And to check up on something.”

  “What thing?”

  “Confidential information.” He finally opened his box of vanilla cake. He toyed with the small fork the cashier had provided and ate neatly, unlike me. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

  “I’m highly doubting that you can find information worthy of confidentiality in a dingy place like this.”

  “I found it,” he said. I could hear the smirk in his voice. The heat of his gaze burned at my cheek. I peeked at him, which was a bad idea, because his expression made me twice as nervous. Where was badass Cara? I wasn’t usually this ditzy. When I saw Max fucking that chick, my first reaction was to video it for leverage. I could post the video, but I’d decided I didn’t want to be that much of an asshole.

  “Do you like what you found?” I asked.

  Another warm chuckle sounded from Hansel’s throat. “It’s a fifty-fifty.” His eyes twinkled. For some reason, I thought he was talking about me. But of course he wasn’t. The world didn’t revolve around me, and what were the chances? I blew out a breath to try to calm my nerves, then tried to find something interesting about the lamppost across the street.

  Hansel’s phone buzzed. He pulled it out from his pocket, and the electric blue of the screen reflected off his high cheekbones. “Right, I have to go. Enjoy your cake, Caramel.”

  “Wait, how do you know my name?”

  When I turned around, Hansel had disappeared.

  Two

  I switched on the lights to my apartment. The first thing next to the door was a photograph of Max and me. We’d taken a selfie after enjoying a turkey leg at Disney World last year. We’d spent a whole year saving for that trip. I’d wanted to go to Vegas, but Max got his way in the end. I always had to compromise for him.

  The stupid things girls did for love.

  I sighed and slumped onto the couch. I glanced at the clock. It was already two in the morning. I’d delayed heading home, and for good reason. It was lonelier back here, without passersby to distract me. The silence suffocated me, so I turned on the television and let some cooking show that didn’t matter play. Max and I were supposed to watch the next episode of Superhero High together. I guessed that was not going to happen now.

  I hadn’t finished the beer that Hansel gave me. I popped it open and brought the Heineken to my mouth. I’d always hated beer—it tasted bitter—but maybe it’d help me sleep. Sipping the beer made it impossible for me to stop thinking about Hansel. I was drawn to him, but which girl wouldn’t be?

  I felt my phone vibrating in my pocket. I’d put it on silent earlier. Glancing at the screen, I saw thirty missed calls. All from Max. He was probably freaking out about the video that I’d taken down earlier. I didn’t post it, but videoing him did the job of scaring him. I doubted he was actually concerned about me. The red flags had all been there since the beginning of the relationship. Lydia, my foster mother, had told me he seemed like a player, but I ignored her because I wanted to believe love could happen to me. He was hot. That was probably what blinded me in the first place. Golden hair, blue eyes. He looked like the typical prince even though he refused to get a proper job. He was too busy pursuing his dreams.

  No use moping about it.

  I downed the beer in one gulp, which was probably a bad idea, then strode to my room. Tomorrow morning, I was going to suffer both a heartbreak and a real hangover.

  I’d stayed in this town because of Max. He’d wanted to start a business with his sister selling graphic tees, and he thought his designs would sync with the locals here more. I’d always wanted to go to New York to pursue music. Maybe I should go to New York. Being single was great. I could do what I want, hang with whomever I wished. I got to make my own decisions as a grown-ass woman. I pulled open my wardrobe and began dragging clothes out. I had a shit-ton of clothes, which Max always complained about. Now, there wasn’t anybody to complain about them anymore.

  Freedom tasted sweeter than cake.

/>   A whooshing sound interrupted my attempt at cheering myself up. My window flew open. A huge gust of wind blew the curtains inward, and the clothes I’d left over the bed were tossed in all directions. Fear sputtered through me, and I reached for the nearest weapon—a hanger. A hanger? What was a hanger going to do against the wind?

  “Hello?” I asked. I rolled my eyes at myself. How original. I was being thrown straight into a horror movie and that was the first thing I could come up with? I held the hanger out in front of me and inched closer to the window. “Is this a prank? TV show? If you intend to put me on some gag reel then you should know that I don’t fall for things—”

  I screamed and almost tripped over myself when somebody tapped me on my shoulder. I swatted the intruder with the hanger. Unsurprisingly, it did little to hurt my assailant. When my attacker came into the picture more clearly, I thought I might die.

  He had horns and a goat’s face.

  I wanted to scream again, but that sight was so horrific that I froze on the spot, not even managing a light whimper. At first, I thought the assailant might be wearing a mask. But then the creature’s mouth moved in a too-realistic manner. Spittle landed on my cheeks when it said, “Caramel Valencia. Your days as a human are over.”

  “Over?” I squeaked. “Are you going to kill me?”

  “No,” it responded matter-of-factly. “I am a brightling, meant to escort you. You are to be brought to the Sanctuary.”

  “Is that where they put all the dead bodies?” My fingers quivered. “Does Santa hate me? Was I too naughty last Christmas?”

  “I do not know this Santa you speak of, but the Sanctuary is where the goddesses are sent to. It exists in the realm of Haven. There are many who await you there.”

  “Goddesses?” This had to be some sort of trick. I finally found the courage to move and used the hanger to hit the goat man again. He caught my wrist. I attempted to struggle out of his grasp, but his grip was insanely strong, and if I struggled any harder, I might break my own arm.