She's always there.
Maybe she's four years younger than you. And a girl. And a daughter of Aphrodite.
But she's always there.
You've grown up much too fast—
Cooties aren't really an issue anymore. Age isn't either; you'll probably die before you can legally drink, (only legally, of course. Living in the Hermes cabin, you've already had your fair share of alcohol. The fact that you're twelve makes no difference). And as for the Aphrodite thing?
You're unclaimed.
Actually, you were claimed. By your mother, Nemesis. When you were ten.
Nobody cared.
[[i will travel the distance in your eyes]]
