Outside, tendrils of Cupid’s voluptuous pixie haircut flutter in the sea breeze. Her silver hair is thick; its gossamer strands glitter spectacularly. Her eyes are yellow like the honeyed moon.
Between her silver eyebrows, there is a tiny purple heart; this symbol represents her special, karmic powers: her faculty to inspire true love in human souls.
Cupid looks at the shorefront real estate before her. Sun glories the acres of sprawling golf greens; bees make sticky gold in the rose arbor; there are stables, a track, and a regal indoor pool: a menagerie of institutional decadence opens up here, like an oyster on the verge of the green sea.
Cupid adjusts her yellow plaid mini skirt, which has hiked itself up her long, smooth thighs. She pulls her asymmetrical Rolling Stones crop top down over her pierced navel. She takes a shuddering breath, her larynx high, her mouth dry.
She toys with the aglets on her thigh high, lace up Chuck Taylor’s; she fingers the cloth buttons on her outsized, beatnik sweater.
Cupid licks her flushed lips. There, a little sex, she thinks. Now I’m ready for this big, rich High School.
When Cupid walks through the gilded doors of Bellmont Cristo High, a steamy, cool goth smacks her on the butt; the goth chick is very Victoria’s Secret meets Twilight, and wears a dominatrix bustier. She gives Cupid a flirtatious wink, and Cupid’s face turns sunset orange.
Cupid didn’t realize she was in Babylon.
Cupid decides she needs to toughen up, and tries to regain her composure. However, she breaks into a cold sweat when she rounds the corner of the main corridor.
In the middle of the hallway, is a boy. He is digging through a large cafeteria trashcan, collecting French fries. He deposits his findings into a large pile on a newspaper.
When he has a considerable cache of garbage fries, he eats them. Another young man squats down next to him, taking a breathy toke on a burning stub in his hand.
Cupid squints; she realizes that this friend of Garbage Fry’s is smoking grass. Not weed. Actual. Real. Live. Grass.
All of the gods and Zeus hate me! Forging eternal love will be impossible in this zoo. This is an impossible assignment. At this rate, I’ll never get back to Olympus!
Cupid feels hopeless. And then she sees Tori.
Oh. This I can work with.