Calypso's face lit up like she'd gotten a limited pool. "Really? You're not mad?"
"I didn't say that." Xavier moved around her, grabbing eggs and a fresh pan. "But getting mad at you seems about as useful as getting mad at a hurricane."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"It wasn't one."
"Still taking it." She hopped onto a barstool at the kitchen island, watching him cook with unabashed curiosity. "You're very good at this."
Xavier cracked eggs one-handed into a bowl. "Survival skill. Can't depend on room service when you're hiding from people who want to kill you."
"That happened often?"
"Often enough." He whisked the eggs. "What's our story?"
"Story?"
"For school."
"Oh!" Calypso tapped her chin. "I thought we'd go with the truth. You died, I reincarnated you, we're bound together by divine magic until we close the primordial gates. Hopefully."
Xavier stared at her.
"What?" She blinked innocently. "Too complicated?"
He flipped the omelet with a flick of his wrist. "Try again."
"Fine." She sighed dramatically. "I'm your... Stepsister?"
"Weird, given how you were straddling me this morning."
"Ooh, good point." A sly smile curved her lips. "We could be lovers."
Xavier slid the omelet onto a plate. "Pass."
"Why? I'm gorgeous. You're pretty. We'd make a stunning couple."
"Because," he said, sliding the plate in front of her, "relationships are complications. Complications get people killed."
"So practical." She stabbed the omelet with unnecessary force. "Fine. I'm your distant cousin. Boring but believable."
Xavier started another omelet for himself. "That works. Just stick close to the truth where possible. Less to remember."
"I'm an excellent liar, you know. Centuries of practice."
"I'm sure you are." He sprinkled cheese into the pan. "But humans are better at detecting lies than you think."
Calypso took a bite of her omelet and made an obscene sound of pleasure that made Xavier fumble the spatula.
"Ahnnng! This is amazing," she moaned, taking another bite. "How is this so good? It's just eggs!"
"Technique matters." Xavier recovered his composure. "And don't do that in public."
"Do what?" She took another bite, closing her eyes in exaggerated bliss.
"That... noise. People will get the wrong idea."
"Or the right one." She grinned, fork poised. "Food pleasure is the most honest kind."
Xavier placed his omelet on a plate and leaned across the counter toward her, purple eyes suddenly intense. "Listen carefully, goddess. School means rules. Structure. Keeping a low profile until we get strong enough that it doesn't matter. Can you handle that?"
Calypso met his gaze. "I managed the afterlife for three hundred years."
"You turned it into a gacha game."
"And it worked brilliantly!" She pointed her fork at him. "Don't worry about me, Xavier Valentine. I can play any role required." Her voice dropped, losing its playful lilt. For a moment, something ancient and knowing looked out through those pink eyes. "I've been watching humans since before you were even an idea. I know how to blend in."
The transformation was so sudden and complete that Xavier found himself momentarily speechless. This was the goddess beneath the bubbly exterior—the being who had guided countless souls through the afterlife, who had existed before civilizations rose and fell.
Then she shoved another forkful of omelet into her mouth and the moment passed.
"We should start getting ready," Xavier said, recovering. "Orientation starts at noon, but we should get there early to figure out the layout."
"Already downloaded the map to my phone after researching Newtube." Calypso waved the device. "And our class schedule. And the student handbook."
"Thorough."
"I like to win." She finished her omelet and pushed the plate away. "And right now, winning means playing this student game perfectly."
Xavier studied her over the rim of his water glass. "Why are you so invested in this?"
"Because it's fun!" She twirled a strand of silver hair around her finger. "And because I'm stuck here until we close those gates. Might as well make the most of it."
Not the whole truth, Xavier noted. But enough of it to work with.
"Let's get ready," he repeated, finishing his breakfast. "And wear something less... you."
Calypso glanced down at her barely-closed robe. "What's wrong with me?"
"Nothing. That's the problem." Xavier stood, taking both their plates to the sink. "We want to blend in, not cause riots."
"Fine." She slid off the barstool with a theatrical sigh. "I'll tone down my divine glory. For now."
As she sashayed toward the bedroom, Xavier called after her: "And Calypso?"
She paused, looking back over her shoulder.
"I'm never letting you cook in my kitchen again."
Her laugh echoed down the hallway, musical and just slightly otherworldly. "We'll see!"
Xavier surveyed the disaster zone that was his kitchen and wondered, not for the first time, what exactly he'd gotten himself into. Death had been simpler than this.
But as he cleaned up the mess, he caught himself smiling. Life had never been boring, but it had often been lonely. Whatever else happened with this divine entanglement, at least loneliness wouldn't be an issue.
Now he just had to survive school. Again.
"Xavi?"
Xavier glanced up to see Calypso leaning against the doorframe, still wrapped in that damned robe.
"Yeah?" He turned away, busying himself with rinsing the cloth, resisting the strange pull her presence created in the room.
"Remember, I don't have a change of clothes..."
Xavier froze, water running over his hands. Shit. She was right. He'd mentioned shopping yesterday, before Hurricane Calypso had decided to experiment with his kitchen and nearly burn the place down.
"I mean, I could always try to materialize something, but..." She twisted a strand of hair around her finger. "My powers are still wonky. Might end up with a dress made of live butterflies again."
Xavier turned, leaning against the counter. "Again?"
"Long story. Involved a very awkward celestial gala and Persephone never letting me live it down." Calypso waved her hand dismissively. "Point is, unless you want me showing up to school naked—"
"No."
"—which I'm totally fine with, by the way—"
"Absolutely not."
"—then we have a slight wardrobe crisis." She finished with a smile that didn't quite hide her genuine concern.
Xavier ran a hand through his white hair. "You'll have to wear something from my bag for now. We can hit the shops before orientation."
"Your clothes?" Calypso's pink eyes widened. "Ooh, do you have those assassin outfits with the hidden knife pockets?"
"I have normal clothes, Calypso." He pushed off from the counter and headed toward the bedroom. "And yes, some have hidden knife pockets."
She clapped her hands together and followed him, the robe swishing around her legs. "This is perfect! I've always wanted to try the 'wearing his clothes' trope!"
Xavier paused at his duffel bag, giving her a sidelong glance. "The what?"
"Nothing!" She smiled innocently, dropping onto the edge of the bed and watching him with unnerving intensity.
Xavier unzipped his bag and dug through it, pulling out items and assessing them. Most of his clothes were dark, practical, and fitted to his frame. Nothing that would work well for her.
"Here." He tossed a black t-shirt her way. "This might be big enough."
Calypso caught it and immediately pressed it to her face, inhaling deeply. "Mmm, smells like you."
Xavier stared at her. "That's disturbing."
"It's intimate." She corrected, lowering the shirt with a smirk. "There's a difference."
"Not from where I'm standing." He continued digging and pulled out a pair of black jeans. "These might work if you roll up the cuffs."
She took them, examining the fabric. "Stretchy. Nice."
Xavier ignored the comment and pulled out a belt. "You'll need this."
Calypso caught it one-handed. "Utility belt? Please tell me there are smoke bombs."
"Just a belt, Calypso." He zipped the bag closed. "Get changed. We need to leave in fifteen minutes if we want to hit the shops before orientation."
She didn't move, just sat there holding the clothes and watching him.
"What?"
"Aren't you going to turn around? A goddess needs her privacy."
Xavier snorted. "You were straddling me half-naked this morning."
"That was different. I was making a point." She stood, clutching the clothes to her chest. "This is changing."
"Fine." He turned his back to her. "Just hurry up."
The rustle of fabric filled the silence. Xavier kept his eyes fixed on the wall, trying not to think about the goddess disrobing behind him. He'd seen plenty of beautiful women before. He'd been paid to see them. This shouldn't affect him.
"How do I look?"
Xavier turned.
Calypso stood there in his black t-shirt, which hung off one shoulder and reached mid-thigh on her. The jeans clung to her curves despite being too big, the belt cinched tight around her waist. She'd rolled the cuffs as he suggested, revealing delicate ankles. Her silver hair spilled over the shirt's neckline, contrasting sharply with the black fabric.
She looked simultaneously ridiculous and breathtaking.
"Well?" She spun in a circle. "How do I look?"
"Different, but it works."
"Different good or different bad?"
"Just different." He moved toward the door. "Come on. Shopping awaits."
Calypso followed. "I'm going to buy the most impractical, eye-catching outfits possible," she declared. "Things that make people question their sexuality."
"You're going to buy practical clothes," Xavier corrected, opening the apartment door. "Things that help us blend in."
"Boring!" She swept past him into the hallway. "I refuse to be ordinary, Xavier Valentine. Even in human form."
Xavier locked the door behind them, pocketing the key. "Compromise. One statement piece per outfit."
Calypso considered this as they walked toward the elevator. "Define 'statement piece.'"
"Something memorable but not impossible to explain." He pressed the call button. "A unique jacket. Distinctive shoes. Nothing that screams 'literal goddess.'"
"Fine." She leaned against the wall. "But I'm not wearing beige. Or gray. Or anything that makes me look like corporate office furniture."
"I can live with that."