"This is your fault, by the way," Jason muttered from the next cell, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. His fingers started to feel all tingly with energy as he clenched and unclenched his hands, something that usually happens when he's anxious or when he's trapped. Like now. By two solid cement walls and two walls of solid metal bars. He eyed her through the metal bars that separated them.
Mary scoffed, propping a leg on the steel bench as she started to draw an imaginary apple on the palm of her hand, her nail shone with midnight blue nail polish. "You got yourself involved in this, wasn't my fault you wanted to trail along," she looked at him through the same bars, where he was rubbing his fingertips with his thumb. "You 'insisted'."
He gave her a look. "How am I supposed to know you're going to break into an art store to steal a tube of red paint for your 'masterpiece'." He did air quotes with his fingers. "You could have just waited until tomorrow and we wouldn't be in this mess."
Scoffing, she straightened herself as she held up a finger. "Okay, first of all, you do not insult the artist. When we suddenly have that burst of determination for painting, we have to act on it. Now. Or not, it'll go away and you'll regret it. Forever. Second, it's scarlet, I have scarlet vermilion, but I don't have scarlet; and I need that scarlet. Lastly, your. Own. Fault." She jabbed a finger in his direction with every word. "And don't you dare blast us out of here, Pikachu," she added, noticing that his fingers moved with increasing speed, tiny sparks flying from them.
This time he scoffed. "First of all, if I were to blast us out of here, I wouldn't take you. I think you deserve some introspection on what you've done."
Mary rolled her eyes when an officer came in and opened the door of her cell. "Go down the hall, last door on the right," she monotoned. "I'll get your boyfriend out in a bit."
"He's not my boyfriend," she responded, while Jason said the same thing in unison.
"Look, kid, I don't care; it's 4am and it's been a long night for me. Just get to the counter, someone there will attend to you."
Instead of going on ahead, she hung back to wait for Jason and together they emerged in the front of the station, where Mary's mother was standing with her arms crossed. "Oh, gods," Mary muttered, just as her mother turned and saw her.
Mary's mother, an adorably petite woman in her late-40s, looked less adorable and more thunderous when she noticed her daughter. She marched over to them and even though she was just over five feet, still managed to tower over them. "Mary Arabella Velvet," her tone was neutral, which served to only cause more chills to run down both their spines. "Do you have any idea what time it is? Or what day it is for that matter? What is the meaning of this? You have school and I have work in two hours. Hello, Jason," she said suddenly, turning her attention towards the six footer, her face broken in a sincere, if exhausted, smile. "We are extremely fortunate Mr. Johnson, who is a good friend of mine, decided not to press charges; seeing as there is little to no damage to his premises."
"Everyone's your good friend," Mary muttered, still cringing at her full name.
She immediately regretted saying it when her mother's eyes widened impossibly and her face became thunderous again. "Get in the car," she growled, throwing Mary the keys. "And don't even think of driving off without me. I have some unfinished business here. You too, Jason. I'll send you home as well."
"It's all right, Mrs Velvet. I can walk home," Jason protested.
"Nonsense," came the quick, decisive reply. "It's the middle of the night. Or morning, depends on where you stand. I can't, in good conscience, let you walk alone. You'll be safer in the car with us." Jason saw Mary successfully turn her scoff into a cough as she beckoned him outside.
They sat in silence in the car, waiting for Mary's mother to get on with her 'unfinished business'. "Your mother seems nice," he broke the heavy silence. "She even got me out."
"She's a lawyer, that's what she does," came the terse reply.
When morning came, Mary found that Jason still managed to come to school on time. Though he just transferred from Wilderness High last term, he was already an important figure in school, having been elected student council president and also a member of the photography club, though he was known to only take photos of the sky.
During lunch, Mary was surprised when he came and sat at her table. "What are you doing?" she growled.
"Eating."
"What are you doing here?"
"Eating."
"Did all the blonde go into your head or something? This is not your table."
"I don't see a blacklist with my name on it."
Simmering, Mary grabbed her tray and walked out of the cafeteria.
"Mars, wait!" she heard him call out to her as she left the cafeteria. She staunchly ignored him and turned the corner. "Mars!" She gasped when he grabbed her elbow, effectively bringing her to a juddering halt.
Stiffly, she turned to face him. "First of all," her voice shook in anger, "only my friends can call me that, of which you are not. Secondly, what are you doing?" She yanked her arm away from his grip, trying to surreptitiously rub her arm where she still felt his fingers through her thin top.
But Jason noticed it anyway. "I'm sorry about that," he pointed to her arm and she just glared at him. "I just wanted to ask you for some help after school."
"What?" Of all the things she imagined him saying, that wasn't actually on the top of the list. She was at a loss for words, yet still wary. "Why?" she narrowed her eyes suspiciously.
"Just please come. It would mean the world to me."
Mary continued to scrutinise him for a second. "We'll see," came the short reply before she turned her back to him and stalked off, effectively ending the conversation.
Jason hopped off the stone lion that was placed on either side of the school main doors. "You came," he said, his voice an odd mixture of both surprise and smugness.
"I had nothing else to do. Besides, my mother said she can't fetch me today so it means she gives me free reign on what time I come back home. So what of my help that you needed so badly that you can't ask anyone else?"
"Don't worry, if it runs late I can send you home," he grinned, the scar on his lip stretching. Mary opened her mouth to retort but for once he was quicker, interjecting her. "Come on," he took her hand and pulled her back into the school building.
It took all of her attention to place one foot in front of the other and keep up with Jason's long stride. At 5'3, it took two of her strides to match one of his own. Before she could ask anything, they stopped in front of the gym. "Are we going to have an impromptu basketball game, ala HSM?"
Jason groaned. "Grover can not stop singing them good gods." He smacked a hand over his eyes and he peeked through his fingers when he heard a sound from her that was not a scoff. She was laughing silently.
"Leave the satyr to his simple pleasures," she said, a full smile spreading across her face at the memory of Grover singing 'I Want Fabulous'. She noticed him staring at her and she felt the heat rise to her cheeks. "Then what are we doing here?"
"I'm begging you to call upon Apollo and his arts because I'm in desperate need of it."
"What are you talking about?" Mary asked impatiently. "Are you asking me to Iris message my dad?"
"Maybe it's best if I show you." Jason stepped forward and pushed the gym doors wide open. Inside, Mary was surprised to see at least twenty students in various groups, all huddled on the floor with numerous pieces of paper around them.
"What in the Underworld...?"
"We have an important game coming soon and we're making posters." He walked inside the gym and beckoned her to follow. After a few paces, he stooped down and picked up a stray piece of paper. "But as you can see," he turned it over and she couldn't stop from hissing, "it's not very good."
"You're telling me." She took the paper with a look of distaste. It was awful; gaudy, poorly constructed words added with horribly jarring colours and generally looking like a child gone wild. "Why do you need my help?" She handed him the paper back.
"I've heard some students talk about our posters and while the guys have little to no problem with it, the girls think they're just plain ugly. I thought you knew a lot about colour composition, lighting and such. I thought it could use a feminine touch."
"I don't know if you've noticed, Pikachu, but I'm not the most feminine person out there." She stepped away from him and threw her arms wide, calling attention to her ripped jeans, her brick red top, her thick dark hair that she rarely ties back with its constant streaks of paint in it and her favourite midnight blue nail polish, chipped from the night before.
"I think you're perfect for the job," he insisted. "Please, just this once. If not for me, for the school." He looked at her steadily, blue eyes serious.
Mary could only meet his eyes for no more than five seconds before she felt that she couldn't hide the colour on her cheeks anymore. She looked away, at the gathered students, who've decided that they weren't interesting enough to watch any longer. "Begging is so unbecoming," she said finally, facing him with her mouth quirked into a smile.
"Here, use these two colours. This one on the inside and that one on the outside. Not the other way around. You hear me?" She swiped at a stray hair tickling her cheek irritatedly, leaving a crimson streak across it. It had been a week and while it was initially slow going to get people to respond to her, now everything's moving along smoothly.
"Here." Jason suddenly appeared behind her, gathering her hair behind her and putting it into a manageable but messy bun. Then he was off to inspect another group on their work. Dazed, Mary touched her hair, leaving another crimson streak in it.
As usual that evening they were the last to leave after cleaning up after themselves.
"Listen," Jason began and Mary's head jerked up to meet his eyes.
"Yeah?"
He shifted from one foot to another. He tried to scratch the back of his head but accidentally dropped his pile of papers. "Oh, damn." He immediately crouched down to pick it up. Mary went over to help him. He watched her gather the papers for a while. "I'd like to thank you." She met his gaze again. "I really didn't expect you to help. I thought it was a long shot but you really pulled through."
He shot her a huge smile and, caught off guard, she only managed to return a small smile before having to look away. "It's no problem," she mumbled. "My mother's just happy I'm getting out of trouble. I, er..." They both stood up and she shifted from one foot to another, curling her toes in her sneakers in embarrassment. "I wanted to thank you too. For helping me tie up my hair just now," she said in a rush, fiddling with the papers in her hand. She forced herself to look at him steadily. She felt that what she admitted was infinitely more than just him doing her hair when she couldn't be bothered to and she hoped he could understand that. She stared into his eyes, willing him to understand what her pride wouldn't bring herself to say. Finally, Mary looked away, handed him the papers and fiddled with the strands of hair around her face nervously. "You're really good at it."
Jason's face grew dark. "I used to do it for my mother," he mumbled, before turning away. Alarmed, Mary just stared at his retreating form. He was vigorously putting the stuff into his locker when he stopped and seemed to take a deep breath. Then he turned to her with a huge smile, his scar wrinkling. "Well, I promised to take you home. Come on." He held out a hand for her to take.
Panicked and unsure of what to do, Mary pretended to sneeze into her hands. "Oh, sorry. You go ahead, I'll catch up," she smiled apologetically and stuffed her hands in her pockets.
"You're really not who I thought you were."
"What do you mean?" Mary pulled her hair up before Jason could do it for her, her fingers stained rose red from a previous poster. Today was the last day they would meet together like this, the last time they would agonise together over a tricky catchphrase. The last time when both of them would stay back when all others have left for the day, feeling like the only two people left in a silent shell of a school. In four days the big game would arrive, and there would be nothing left to bind them together in silent tandem, nothing to make them spend time with each other. Mary wasn't quite sure how she felt about that. She shook her head and looked at the other girl across from her, a partially finished poster in between them.
"I've seen you around school; always walking alone in your dark clothes with your bright eyes ready to send a quick glare to anyone who breathed the wrong way. But then you always had paint streaks in your hair and oil pastels on your fingers, sitting alone again somewhere as you sketch so that moody thing is just a front, right?"
Mary stared at the girl's clear, grey eyes. She's seen this girl sometimes around school, probably a year her senior. But for the life of her, she can't remember her name. "You've never had anything weird or unexplainable happen to you, have you?" she asked sceptically, eyes narrowed. The girl frowned and shook her head. "Still have both parents?" She nodded. "Have any siblings with almost no similarities to you?"
"I have a twin. What are you getting at?" The girl was close to scowling by now.
"Nothing. Just the grey eyes threw me. You're very astute, aren't you?"
"I like to observe. When Jason said he's going to recruit you, I honestly had my doubts. You don't realise how famous you are, but just about everyone knows you."
But whatever she said was drowned by the roaring in Mary's ears. "Wait. What do you mean, recruit me?"
"Didn't you hear? Oh wait, maybe you're the last person to hear about this-"
"Spit it out, already," Mary growled angrily. She hates it when people play games with her, and she has a sinking feeling that she had just been royally played.
"Well, there's a rumour going around that you've been arrested again; and as usual, he's with you." The girl lifted her eyebrows to give a pointed look in Jason's direction.
"Yeah, so? That's hardly news."
"While considering Jason's extraordinary track record here in school, the school board have no problem believing that he's just implicated in whatever it is you guys got caught for. You, however, are not so lucky. Time and time again you are the school's scapegoat. Everytime you both get caught, the school blames you for being a bad influence. But that last time was the last straw. The school was considering expulsion, but Jason stepped in. He pleaded that if he got you into the student council, it would keep you busy enough to stay out of trouble. The school agreed, but only if Jason has his eye on you the entire time." Having said her piece, the girl sat back on her heels with a satisfied smile. "So you're unofficially officially a member of the student council. Welcome."
Mary tried to swallow around the lump in her throat. "Who else knows about this?" She was somewhat pleased to hear her voice unchanged.
"Not many. It's not as common news as you might think. People are more interested in who's dating who, not the punk kid getting booted out of school. No offense," she said quickly.
"Offense already taken," Mary said stiffly, scrambling to her feet and running out of the gym. She vaguely heard Jason calling her name but she didn't care. She can't breathe. She needed some air.
Mary ran. She didn't know exactly where and vaguely remembered that she ran across a street, nearly getting run over by a beet red Volkswagen Beetle. She ran until her lungs burned. She ran until her legs felt numb and refused to move any longer. When that happened, Mary stumbled into a tiny field; a miniscule patch of green in the sprawling metropolis. There, she collapsed onto her knees, threading her fingers into the grass, trying to tether herself to the ground. She took huge, gulping breaths of the earthy scent. Leaning her head back, Mary closed her eyes as the sunlight streamed down on her face. She embraced it readily. "It's okay, dad," she murmured. "It's okay. I'm okay." But even as she said it, two tears fell from the corner of each eye. Her chest felt tight, her throat constricted. "I am so stupid," she growled, throwing herself onto the ground, staring at the sky. In the setting sun, it was a myriad of colours, the colour of late afternoon transitioning into early evening, streaks of vermilion, persimmon, fuschsia and rust. It was beautiful. Yet a beam of sunlight still refused to go and streamed down on her, soothing her.
"Mary!"
Upon recognising the voice, Mary stiffened. "Go away," she whispered, two more tears escaping, pooling into her ears. "Stay away from me."
"Mary!" Jason gasped, landing five feet away from her with a thud.
"No!" Mary scrambled to her feet, pointing a hand at him. "You stay away from me!"
"Mary, what is wro-"
"No! You stop! Don't you dare call me that!"
"What do you want me to call you?" Jason asked gently, advancing slowly with his hands out, like you would with a wounded animal.
"Nothing! You don't deserve to call me anything! My name should be poison to your lips!" Her throat burned from all the screaming, but the pain felt good. It's a good sort of pain. She took a deep breath. "You used me," her voice was low.
"What?"
"You used me! You 'recruited' me into your little club so you can get me out of trouble. Did you think you can hide it forever? That word wouldn't reach me? This is high school, Grace. Word is always going around."
"I-" Jason licked his lips. Then he bit them uncertainly. "I was just looking out for you."
"I don't need your help!" Mary stalked in circles, the small boundary of the park reigning her in. She looked remarkably like a captured lion, pacing in the confinement of her cage. "I was fine until you decided to 'help'. I was fine before you decided to meddle. I. Was. Fine. Now, I'm not. Now, I'm a mess of emotions I don't understand, feelings I cannot control."
"I'm sorry." Jason began sincerely, alarmed at her reactions. "I just wanted to help."
"You don't need to be a hero all the time, Jason!" Shocked at herself, Mars closed her eyes slowly and took a deep breath. "If I wanted your help, I would've asked-"
"No, you wouldn't," Jason cut in decisively. "You will not ask for help; not until you burn yourself out."
"Because you know me so well, don't you?" Mary snapped, eyes blazing. "Stay away from me, Grace." With that, she turned around and ran back to her house, leaving him alone in the park.
"No, cornflower blue does not match with fire red, what was I thinking? No, midnight blue is not a good pair with plum. No, no, no! What is going on? Why is nothing working?!" In a fit of frustration and anger, Mary threw her paint stained brush across the room, not caring that it left a stain on the carpet. Her mother had the brilliant idea of using a white carpet so that whenever Mary gets into these fits and throws paint around it would just be another canvas. And it worked. There were so many paint splatters all over the carpet that in itself, it could be a work of art. Tired, she rubbed her face, spreading midnight blue on her cheeks. She stepped back to survey her work. Painting used to have a somewhat narcotic effect on her, calming her. Not now. Now her work reflected her emotions. Growling, she threw the tiny canvas across her room, where it landed with a clatter by the door.
"Be careful. This could be your number one piece." Mary's mother picked up the canvas and turned it over. "That's... a lot of colours," she offered, handing it to her daughter. "And very chaotic."
"It reflects my mood," Mary mumbled, setting the canvas face down on the easel.
"Anything you want to talk about?"
"No." The reply came on too sharp. "I'm sorry. I'm just in a bad place right now. I didn't mean to snap."
"Then I'm afraid my piece of news isn't going to help." Her mother grimaced and fidgeted, something that rarely happens.
"What?" Mary asked slowly, squinting at her mother.
"I have to go out of town for the weekend. I'm going to leave some money for you that should last the entire weekend."
"Okay. That's hardly something new. Why do you feel so badly about it?"
"I feel bad, leaving you behind in this state-"
"It's okay. I'll be fine. Besides, to be completely honest, I really want to be left alone right now. You have fun now; don't forget to eat and have some fun between whatever it is you're doing." Mary went over to give her mother a goodbye hug.
Her mother returned it wholeheartedly. "Oh, and Jason's downstairs."
"What?"
"I let him in. He wanted to see you."
"I have nothing to say to him," Mary snapped. "Also, tell him to get the hell out of my house!" She directed the last sentence out her open door, where she knew he can hear.
"It's also my house and I invited him in," Mary's mother said sternly, voice crisp.
"Then you can invite him out when you leave. I have nothing to say to him." She turned around and climbed on her bed, picking up a dog-eared and paint-stained book. Her mother stood at the door staring at her for several seconds before sighing, shaking her head as she left the room.
Five minutes later, Mary heard her mother murmuring something to Jason. Soon after, she heard the front door open and close, then the sound of the car starting up and driving away. She sighed, collapsing into the pile of pillows on her bed and throwing an arm over her eyes. Absentmindedly, she thought of closing her balcony door.
She heard a thump and assumed that it was her book until someone spoke. "This is interesting."
Instantly, she jolted up, her hand already flying to the bow and quiverful of celestial bronze arrows hanging on the bedpost next to her. Without even thinking about it, she had an arrow nocked and pointed to the direction of the voice.
"Whoa!" Jason jumped back from the small painting from before and held up his hands. "Camp has taught you well, I see." Mary said nothing, glaring at him down her arrow, her posture rigid. "I wanted to talk to you." Still she said nothing, nor did her body relax even the slightest. "I just wanted to say that I am really sorry. I should've just been upfront to you and that it wasn't fair to withhold information about you from you. I just wanted to protect you and I thought that you not knowing was the best way to go. I see now that I'm entirely wrong and I'm a complete seaweed brain for thinking I could be right." He lifted up a corner of his mouth sheepishly. She was silent as a statue, the fingers gripping the handle of the bow twitching ominously. "You know that arrow's not going to hurt me in the least, right?"
"But it will give me the satisfaction by thinking it did," she retorted, finally breaking her silence.
"Therapist?"
"Daeira."
"Ah." Jason thought of the quirky daughter of Athena and thought that it was exactly what she would say.
"Besides, worse comes to worst, I can still hit you with the bow." She finally relaxed, but not taking her fingers away from the string and the nocked arrow. "What do you want?" Her tone was flat, neutral. But her eyes blazed angrily.
Instead of answering, he gestured at the small canvas, a foot long and wide. "That's an interesting piece."
"It reflects my mood," she repeated shortly.
They stood in silence for awhile, Jason's fingers stroking the canvas as he stared at it, the myriad of dark blues and reds. "Today's the day of the big game," he offered. "We've had the biggest turnout in ten years. Thanks in large part to your posters. It really drew people in."
"I've never been to any of the school games and I don't intend on starting now," Mary said sharply.
"You've never been to any of the school games?" Jason was flabbergasted. "Why?"
"The crowds unnerve me." His expression was so comical that her mouth twitched and she tossed her head angrily. She's still angry at him. But that face was just too unexpected. Too ridiculous.
"Well you have to come to this one," he insisted.
"I don't 'have' to go anywhere. No one's holding a gun to my head for me to go."
"There's a lot more people this time. You'll love it, I swear."
"Didn't I just tell you the crowd unnerves me?" Mary snapped. Can't he see that? Maybe he really was a bigger seaweed brain than Percy Jackson.
"It's different this time. The energy from the crowd is infectious. Come and see," he held out a hand, eyes shining with excitement through his glasses.
A small spark lit up amongst the burning anger. A different spark. She looked at his outstretched hand uncertainly. Thoughts whizzed by in her head like a ping pong ball played by pros. 'Should I? Shouldn't I? I'm still so angry. But he seems earnest enough. Everyone deserves a second chance. Guilty until proven innocent.'
She stared at his hand some more, long enough for it to be awkward. As she memorised the lines of his hand, she realised that he did not back down; did not pull his hand away. She looked up and his eyes had the same excitement, but there was something else. A steely determination. A coaxing request. Mirrors of the soul indeed. If eyes were truly the mirrors of the soul, Jason's eyes were transparent glass.
Mentally throwing up her hands, she sighed. "I must be out of my mind," she growled, stuffing the arrow back in its quiver and setting it back on the bedpost. She took her coat from its peg behind the door and stuffed her arms in the sleeves.
She was just going downstairs when Jason called out, "The front door is already locked. Your mother locked it."
"She took the car too," Mary moaned. "We'll never make it in time for the game."
"Get your keys. Lock the balcony door," he instructed as he stepped out onto the balcony.
She did as she was told. "Now what?" she asked, turning to face him after the lock clicked satisfyingly. "Did you bring a car?"
His smile was devilish. "I don't need a car." Swiftly, he swept her off her feet and took off.
Instinctively, Mary clung to him as the ground retreated alarmingly. "Are you crazy?"
"Just a touch of ADHD!" Jason laughed. "Don't worry, I won't drop you!"
"You better not! If you did, not even Thanatos can hold me from coming back to strangle you!" She had to shout over the rush of the air. Thankfully she decided to tie her hair before they left or else it would be flying everywhere. He laughed again, more carefree than she'd ever seen him.
"Don't people see you?" Carefully, she looked down and yelped.
"Don't look down! The Mist helps. I assume they think I'm just one huge bird."
She nodded. "I can see you being the blonde eagle. You could be the new bird of America."
Before he could respond they hit a column of air so dense that Jason had to swerve sharply, making Mary cling to him even tighter. "Sorry for the turbulence! Also, I can't breathe!"
Instantly, she loosened her grip. "Sorry, I'm just not used to being on the outside of an aeroplane!" She was rewarded with another chuckle.
They arrived in school just as the first whistle blew and the crowd roared. Mary balked. "I-I'm not sure I can do this," she stammered.
"Sure you can," he assured her. "Don't worry, I got you. Ah, ah," he caught her shoulders just as she was about to leave. "Just once. If you hate it, I promise never the force you to come to another game."
"The pep rallies are bad enough," Mary grumbled, her feet forced to move by Jason's hands on her shoulders.
They found an empty seat at the edge of the field, close enough to the players but far enough that they will not be missed if they had to slip out earlier than expected.
Mary leaned forward. "So, which one is our team?"
Jason whistled. "That bad, huh?" She glared at him and he held up his hands. "They're in the red and silver. The green and gold Leprechauns are the rival school's."
"Polar opposites."
"Excuse me?"
"The colours. They're on polar opposites of the spectrum."
Jason laughed. "I'll take your word on it!"
Suddenly the crowd roared and stood on their feet, stomping as they did. Mary looked around, overwhelmed and aghast.
"You're supposed to cheer when your team scores!"
"Oh, so that's what's going on." She leapt on her feet and clapped enthusiastically.
"That's the way!"
As the night wore on, she realised that he was right. The crowd was infectious. It wasn't long before Mary herself shot to her feet to cheer when their team scored and boo when the other team scored. She chattered excitedly with the people around her during half-time and gratefully accepted a drink when Jason offered, her throat sore from all the screaming. Finally, it was nearing the end of the game and their team just needed one more score to win. The crowd was silent, supporters from both sides chewing their nails and sipping their drinks nervously, watching their team alertly. Mary started bouncing her leg to release the nervous energy, until Jason pressed his leg against hers to calm her. She shot him a look of fear and he smiled, taking her hand. "It will be all right," he promised, linking his fingers through hers.
The whistle blew and their team was off. They passed the ball from one to another, all the while trying to avoid being tackled. Finally one of them broke through the line of defense, streaking across the field. The crowd flew to their feet. The clock ticked closer to the end. Mary gripped Jason's hand in a vice like grip.
"He's not going to make it!"
Jason just squeezed her hand in response.
At the last second, the player was tackled and the crowd groaned and cheered. But it was too late, the ball soared. Time stopped and stretched. The crowd collectively gasped. Then the score and the last whistle.
For a few seconds, everyone was stunned. Until the scoreboard revealed the final score and a deafening cheer roared, swallowing up the few groans.
"We did it!" Mary jumped up and down to the girl next to her and hugged her. "We did it!" She patted the guy in front of her's head. "We won!" Finally she turned to Jason and threw her arms around him.
"I told you it will all be all right," he murmured into her ear.
They landed with a thump on Mary's balcony. "Thanks for dinner," she smiled.
"Hey, post-game meals are a must. I'm just glad our team won. Then it's a celebration dinner."
"I hate to admit it-"
"I know you do," Jason grinned.
Mary punched his arm. "You were right about the game. I might go to all the others now," she shot him her own grin.
"If you help me make the posters again. No strings this time."
She fell silent and he wanted to kick himself. Maybe it was too early for that joke. Maybe he really was a seaweed brain. Jason made a mental note to maybe lessen the time spent with Percy.
"I didn't know you wore glasses," she pointed out suddenly, catching him off guard.
"Yeah," he stammered. "It helps when I'm flying."
She nodded. "It suits you." She turned her back towards him and unlocked the door. "Would you like to come in? I want to show you something."
"Really?"
"You hesitate any longer and I might change my mind," she warned and he noticed how she gripped the doorknob. This was a hard decision for her to make. Nervously, he nodded and stepped into her room again.
She took off her coat and hung it on its peg. Then she crossed her room to behind the cupboard. She pulled a huge canvas out with difficulty, grunting as she did.
"Do you need any help?" Jason offered.
"No, thank you. I want to do this myself." She grunted again. "Wow, I'm so much stronger when I'm angry. Sit on the bed."
He did as he was told. "Are you sure? That thing's as big as you."
"Hush up will you. I need to concentrate on carrying this." She settled it against her dresser across from the bed, face down. Putting her hands on her hips, Mary let out a huff. "Close your eyes."
"Bossy, aren't you?" Jason chuckled as he put his hands over his eyes.
Jason heard her soft grunts and scrapings on the floorboards. Suddenly he felt her hand on his. "Keep your eyes closed," she instructed, pulling him up. He cautiously made his way across her room blind. After four short paces, she moved her hand to his arm to stop him. He sensed her taking deep breaths. After one final intake, she said, "Okay, let's do this. Open your eyes now."
When he did Jason saw...himself. Or rather, a very good painting of himself. On a five foot tall canvas, he had his imperial gold sword over his head, ready to strike. He was wearing his purple camp T-shirt with the jeans that were worn on the knees. His expression though, was one of pure pain. The background was a striking shade of red, accentuating the entire thing and giving him a sort of ethereal look.
"I told you I needed that scarlet," Mary murmured softly. "I wanted to make it lifesize but that was the biggest my mother and I could manage."
"What...?"
"You came to camp last year. You visited Percy and Leo. Also Nico, when you can find him. Sometimes Daeira and Zara would join you, as well as Ivy. That's how I noticed you. It was after your breakup. You were dealing. You were all smiles and reassurances in front of them but when you were alone...you were dealing. I found that fascinating. The hero had a hamartia."
"Just because I had feelings doesn't make it my hamartia," Jason quipped.
"The hamartia wasn't your feelings. It was the need to make sure everyone else is okay, at the expense of yourself. 'You will not ask for help; not until you burn yourself out'," she quoted. "I guess we have something in common, don't we?" She chuckled.
Saying nothing, Jason linked his fingers with hers again and for the second time, she didn't object.
"I figured that I had a secret too, and it also involved you. Not telling people hurts and I don't want to hurt you," Mary's voice was quiet and she was shaking. He could tell this was difficult for her.
After a stretch of silence, Jason opened his mouth. "Do I get to keep it?"
"If you want. I consider it my best work, though only my mother and I know about it."
"And now me."
"And now you," she agreed.
"You know, I still don't know what to call you. You said Mars is only for friends, which you also said I was decidedly not. Mary is supposed to be poison to my lips-" she groaned in embarrassment. "What do I call you, then? Ms Velvet?"
"Ew no. I sound like a porn star."
Jason threw his head back and laughed heartily. "I thought you sound like a delicious desert. Fine, how about your middle name? Arabella?"
"I sound like a southern belle about to swoon," she grimaced.
"How about Bella?"
"Nico already calls Zara that sometimes."
"But no one else calls you that."
She considered it. "What is this, Twilight?" she grinned.
"Hey, I did just appear on your balcony while you were in bed."
This time she laughed. "Fine, then. Are you my Jacob? Or my Edward?"
"Moody, emo vampire or hotheaded werewolf?"
"You seem to know a lot about Twilight."
He shrugged. "I've seen enough parodies."
"I think you're an Edward. You've got the hair right."
"Really?" Jason sounded horrified and Mary just chuckled.
After another stretch of silence, she said, "Please close your eyes and sit on the bed again."
Jason lowered himself onto the edge of the bed and shut his eyes. For a while, there was nothing. Then he felt her kneel opposite him and he widened his knees, just so she could close the gap between them even more. She scooted closer and he felt her warmth, hear her uneven breathing. Gently, she took off his glasses and set it aside. He felt her hesitate and put up a hand to reassure her. She took his hand and placed it back on his knee. "Go big or go home," she whispered, putting a hand on his chest and leaning in.
The feel of lips on his after so long shocked Jason and for a second he felt transported back in time. Before he could go there, he noticed that these lips were different from the ones he knew. They were shaped different, the way they moved was different. Their taste was different. Right now, after so long, different was good. Different was what he needed. He leaned into her and kissed her back.
After a while, she pulled away. "I couldn't do this while you were standing up," she whispered.
"I could've leaned."
"And break your back?"
"I could sweep you up again."
"Don't you dare. Bad enough I'm letting you call me Bella."
Jason laughed quietly. "Thank you," he murmured as he leaned into her.