Chapter Text
In the middle of the cabins, the campfire’s flames burned the same bright orange as our t-shirts. About 30 campers were gathered around, sitting on mismatched chairs and old logs that they’d pulled up so they could bask in the warmth.
The s’more making had commenced. Most campers had stuck marshmallows on the end of sticks from the forest floor, gently roasting them. Or, if you were Clarisse, you stabbed it with your spear and stuck it so deep in the fire you couldn’t be sure if it was coming back out.
Grover lead us to a cosy spot next to the daughter of Ares, along with Silena and Beckendorf. Though we might as well have not been there - they only had eyes for each other lately.
“Hey, Clarisse.” Grover chimed as she crunched her crisp of a marshmallow between two Graham crackers. He was licking his lips. She snorted and held it out to him.
“You can have it. I cooked it too much anyway.” She shoved her hand in the bag of marshmallows next to her, Grover gleefully chomping on what was essentially a charcoal sandwich. After Clarisse condemned yet another candy to a fiery death, I stretched over and grabbed the supplies.
“I can make you one?” I said to Annabeth, like a question, but I was going to do it no matter how she answered.
“I’ve been at Camp way longer than you. Shouldn’t I do it?” She began to reach for the marshmallows, but I hugged them to my chest.
“Ah, you have forgotten that I am Sally Jackson’s son.” I raised an eyebrow, leaning closer to her. “The Queen of S’mores herself. And just about every dessert under the sun.”
Annabeth lightly pushed my shoulder, looking at me through her long, thick eyelashes.
“And you inherited her skills?”
“Maybe, but I wouldn’t know. She’s been raising me to be a dessert mastermind since I was but a child.” I sank two marshmallows on two separate sticks. “Are you ready to have your mind blown?”
Annabeth was trying extremely hard not to laugh.
I raised my branches to the flames, just at the edge, so they were caramelised perfectly on the outside and gooey in the middle. After about a minute, I placed them between two cookies and a square of dark chocolate each. I handed one of my masterpieces to Annabeth - the better one.
“Now wait a second for the chocolate to melt. And squeeze it a little.”
“I had no idea there was such an intense method to a s’more.” She didn’t break eye contact as she followed my instructions exactly.
“Well, Annabeth. Good things come to those who wait.” I raised my s’more to hers, and we tapped them together in a ‘cheers’ motion. I watched as she took a bite, a bit of chocolate spilling out over her lip. If this was a movie I’d have wiped it away, but it wasn’t, and I didn’t think cheesy things like that were her style. Annabeth got it herself.
“You know what?” She covered her mouth as she spoke, swallowing the bite. “I think you’re actually on to something for once.”
“For once?!” I retorted. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I bit into my s’more - and just as I expected, it was the best thing I’d ever eaten.
“There’s just a lot of kelp in that head of yours. Right, Seaweed Brain?” Annabeth ruffled my hair, sticking out her bottom lip in mock-sympathy. My cheeks were full of s’more, so all I could do was frown.
We were interrupted when Silena tapped Annabeth’s shoulder.
“Charlie and I were thinking of going stargazing on Half Blood Hill, do you want to come?” Her eyes jumped between the both of us. “You guys too!” She extended her arm to Grover and Clarisse - the latter of which, who usually held a permanent scowl, went soft at the question.
“Sure!” She blurted a little too enthusiastically, which absolutely baffled me. I’m not sure I’d heard a positive intonation to her voice since… well, ever.
Grover, Annabeth and I all stared at her.
“Y-yeah! I’ll join.” Grover said as he shot me a questioning look, and all I could do was send him ‘I don’t know man, that was weird’ vibes through the empathy link.
“Yay! Let’s go.” Silena was excitable even on a bad day, and it was infectious. It was impossible not to like her.
The six of us got up, Beckendorf hanging both weirdly close and too far from Silena at the same time. Meanwhile, I fell into step with Annabeth, behind everyone else. Dusk had settled into twilight, and when we got closer to Half Blood Hill, I could see the first few stars sparkling away. The air was chillier than before.
“You’re not cold still, are you?” I asked.
“No, I’m good. Thanks for letting me borrow this.” My flannel was so oversized on her smaller frame that her hands disappeared into the sleeves. “It’s really soft.”
“Yeah. It’s one of my favourites.” With people around us, there was an air of awkwardness that hadn’t been there when we’d left the stables. I racked my brains for a topic Annabeth could talk about forever - and luckily for me, there were many. “You taught me about constellations once.”
She beamed at me.
“I’m surprised you remember that.”
When we were in the Sea of Monsters, waiting on the boat until morning to infiltrate Polyphemus’ Island, Annabeth and I had sat on the roof and watched the sky. I had never seen stars like that before, and I wasn’t sure if I ever would again in my lifetime; the Milky Way was so bright that for a moment I thought we’d sailed into space.
Annabeth had picked out planets, satellites, galaxies, meteor showers, everything. And then she went back all over again, explaining the constellations they made up. She had pointed West, just above the horizon - and there was Leo, my star sign.
“If we look Southeast, we should see Leo again.” It freaked me out how sometimes she basically read my mind. “It should be next to Cancer this time of year.”
“Your star sign.” I replied, and she confirmed it with a nod.
“Maybe there’s less kelp in your brain than I thought.” The forest began to thin out, the plains of Half Blood Hill rolling into view. As soon as I looked up, I saw both of our star signs - just as Annabeth had said, together in the sky.
“Did you just admit you can be wrong sometimes?” I said as I watched them sparkle.
Then I turned to her. She wasn’t looking at the infinite possibilities of space. She was looking at me.
“Maybe.”
For a brief moment, it was like we were back at the stables. The knot in my stomach was uncomfortably tight, and I'll admit, I was desperate to kiss her so that I could untie it completely.
“Come on, slowpokes!” Clarisse called after us. The four of them were at least 20 metres ahead of us, Silena and Beckendorf had already settled down in the grass. Though it was dark, I could still make out that Beckendorf looked absolutely terrified. I was pretty sure his terror, or nerves, was aimed at the daughter of Aphrodite who was looking at him with pure adoration.
As I got closer, I noticed Clarisse looking at her. It was like her eyes were about to pop out of the sockets in heart shapes like a cartoon. That was a love triangle you could not pay me to touch with a 10 foot pole.
Grover collapsed in the meadow, practically disappearing in it. That was probably his dream - to become one with a field. Maybe that’s where he’d go in his next life. Annabeth and I lay down next to him so I was in the middle.
“This is the closest feeling to The Wild you can get in New York.” Grover mused, kicking his arms and legs like he was making a snow angel. A grass angel?
“Did you feel it at all when you were searching for half bloods?” I asked.
“I felt it near the Appalachian Mountains. In Vermont a little. Nothing has ever been like New Mexico - but that was different. Pan was there.” Grover was so sure of it, I chose to believe him.
“You will find him.” The sky was fully dark now, and to my delight, I could see the faintest outline of the Milky Way again.
“I know.” Grover said, then went quiet. From the empathy link, I could sense his own ‘happy feeling’ - or, the feeling he got when he was surrounded by his two favourite things: nature and friends.
“Can you see the Milky Way?” Annabeth reached for my arm, her touch surprisingly warm against my bicep, but it still made me shiver. Once again, she read my mind - maybe that was a secret power children of Athena had. Or maybe I was extremely predictable.
“I can.” I lifted my free arm, pointing it directly above us. “And there’s Cygnus.”
Annabeth’s fingertips slid lower, down to my forearm.
“Cassiopeia.” She pointed to a set of 5 stars that formed a giant, slightly wonky W. “You know she was Andromeda’s mother? She was chained to a chair in the sky for her arrogance.” Her palm was on my wrist. “But who knows if she was actually that bad. Ancient Greeks were pretty sexist.”
I took the reins, and intertwined my fingers between hers. My hands were probably slimy with anxious sweat, but I didn’t care.
“They really did hate women.” I agreed. “Do you think Andromeda would have still met Perseus without her?”
“No. Andromeda met Perseus because of Cassiopeia’s actions. She’s the reason Andromeda was chained to the rock.” Annabeth’s pulse fluttered against my wrist, and maybe I was imagining it, but it felt fast. “I guess the moral of the story is you need a horrible mother to meet the love of your life.”
I almost scoffed, because Athena was pretty horrible as far as mothers go. Abandoning her daughter, leaving her with an absent father, and watching her suffer for years with no intervention?
Maybe Annabeth was right. There really did need to be an awful mother in the picture to meet the person you loved.