"Love that stammers, that stutters, is apt to be the love that loves best." –Gabriela Mistral.
Her dark eyes shone with excitement. Nobody could stop her now. Not even the leaves dared to creak under her feet. Then again, Marisol had light feet, even for her feathered weight. Her tiny figure stepped closer. Close enough to see the guard, the one and only, standing too close to the flag. That, she thought, is cheating. She popped in front of the guard without giving him time to realise what was happening. Two strokes of her experienced sword brought him down. Her heart beat faster. It was just one of the many times Marisol Valdez had picked up the flag and won for her team, but the adrenaline it gave her was what she lived on. Capture-the-flag-Fridays and bad boys summed her up pretty well. The boy on the ground was moaning in pain, he'd sprained his ankle, maybe. She helped him up, Marisol was not heartless. After making sure he was okay, she disappeared.
She was not even a blur, her leg muscles contracting and retracting as she moved, smoothly outlined under her skin. She was a few metres away from the creek which would let her win. She encountered Henry Stoll, who was leaning against a tree. They were in the same team, but the look Marisol shot him gave no clue about it.
"Move" she told him, as he stood in front of her, blocking her path. He raised his chin, his brown hair falling over his eyes, which shone with that kind of malice that makes girls go crazy, which had made her go crazy. Not anymore, though. Bad boy madness lasted until she got her heart broken, then she was free.
"Just give it to me, babe. Let me claim triumph for myself." Had he asked so last summer, Marisol would have willingly done it. She had done it.
"Go fuck yourself" she answered. She proceeded to slash at him, fearlessly and furiously with her blade, making him step back long enough for her to run away. To make him look like an idiot. She crossed the creek, and took off her helmet, exhausted. Bursting with the energy of winning, holding the flag tightly in one hand. She made sure her glossy, curly black ponytail was in place. She waited for the cheering and 'hurray's!' but they didn't come. Everybody ran to Sebastián instead. She glared at him, her dark eyes poisonous with jealousy.
"You were amazing!" Someone told him.
"How you stopped that guy from catching Marisol? Flawless." Said another one.
"Your aim is just so perfect." A girl giggled. Marisol frowned and threw the flag to the dirt at her feet. It didn't matter anymore. Two friendly faces walked up to her. Marisol smiled widely at both of them.
"We know you're the real hero." Evan told her.
"That guy wasn't even near to stop you, Marie." Kristin agreed. Marisol stared back and forth from the sword hanging from a strap around his brother's waist and her own blade. She smiled. Mine is better, she noted.
Her cabin was crowded and that might have been the only thing Marisol disliked about Camp Half-Blood. But even having no personal space was half as mortifying for her as it was having her brother Sebastián looking after her.
She woke up, and rolled a bit, sleepy, crushing Evan sleeping next to her. He groaned. She rolled to the other side and crushed David, Aunt Lou and Uncle Malcolm's son. She hated this. Not being able to roll in the morning, without crushing someone. Not being able to avoid hearing a thousand giggles and such coming from every corner of the cabin. But she could bear it; she did bear it, every summer. What she could not stand was her brother sneaking into her private life. He wanted to know who was she dating now, so he could beat him down; trying to decide which campers were worthy of being her friends. It had been like this since her parents had sent her to camp at the age of eleven. Her mother had told her she wanted to keep her home during summer vacations, but it would be risky to do so. It was better for her to train at camp, like her brother.
To Marisol's misfortune, it was true. Better to meet a monster well prepared than to get killed by it for not knowing how to fight. For Marisol's bright smile and easygoing personality, it hadn't been a challenge to get her a place in camp. Between Kristin Fjord, from cabin seven; and Evan Ricks, from her own cabin; she hit it off pretty well. Marisol, who had her dad's bronze skin, dark hair, elfish face and wicked grin, was proud of the five beads hanging from her neck. She had also inherited from Leo her troublemaker face and her army vest jacket. She had her mother's eyes, though, and her complexion. Maybe a little of her graceful moves. She was short, yeah, but fit. With Chiron's training it was difficult not to develop some muscles, or to be fat.
Marisol was the queen swordsman. She also held the title of most flags captured in capture-the-flag-Fridays. Hermes's cabin was a most-wanted for capture the flag. Marisol got rid of a lot of boring duties due to being one of the reasons the cabin always got great deals. Even so, she still felt as if her brother eclipsed her all the time. Sebastián was better than her at anything she could think of, and he was more popular, too. Half the camp wanted to date Sebastián Valdez, but he was already taken. His girlfriend was Gwen (which would most likely get him killed by uncle Frank one of these days). Gwen was at Camp Jupiter, and had him as a pathetic sight, sighing all day long.
There were, nevertheless, a couple things that made her feel better. For example, even though her brother was better at being popular, gardening (though he never used that skill at camp) and archery, she was a way better blacksmith than he was. That would win her complicit grins from her father from time to time, even when it didn't win her any friends in the Hephaestus cabin. She just couldn't get them entirely. And it was a bit weird to hang out with your uncles and aunts.
Marisol hadn't had her brother's luck in love, either. To Sebastián, it had been just a Christmas party and a lot of staring. Bam! He had a girlfriend and what turned into a long distance relationship every summer. She had just a couple of rough experiences that might be the reason her brother had grown so overprotective of her. Bad boys, who matched Marisol's explosive personality, creating explosive relationships.
Marisol was now sixteen years old and was determined not to let bad boys fool her that summer. She would concentrate on training and get a little bit better in archery, in which she sucked epically. Problem was Marisol Valdez was loud and cheerful. She warmed up to people faster than she took notice of, developing potentially dangerous crushes before she even knew she might find someone interesting.
That's why, when she woke up that morning, she didn't pay attention to one of her brother's many friends (not even a close one). It was Martin, from cabin four, who was talking to him in one corner of the cabin. She'd never spoken to him, and had never given him a second look, to be honest. She barely remembered him at all, just recognised him by his copper brown hair, more chocolaty than ginger. She walked away with a quick pace, focused on getting to use the shower before the lot.
Marisol shared breakfast with Evan, son of Hermes. They discussed the best way to play a prank on Henry Stoll, Marisol's last romantic failure. She wasn't one for revenge, but Evan could be quite convincing when he wanted. Also, Henry hadn't been nice about their break up. He'd enjoyed making it as awkward as possible around the cabin and so. He had called her 'babe' during capture the flag. That had to be illegal somewhere.
"We could make him believe I'm drowning in the canoe lake and you come and save me. Being near death should soften him on me a bit." Marisol suggested.
"Or," Evan said, moving his hand in a dramatic gesture. "We could drown him and stare at the lake as his oxygen bubbles stop coming out to the surface." He said, not even caring to lower his voice, in an obvious attempt for Henry to listen to him. Evan had no love for the guy since he'd hurt Marisol. Nobody hurt Marisol and got away so easy. Until then, she would have to stand Henry being a jerk. Even when Sebastián had made it clear he didn't want to hear more of Henry and his funny business with Marisol. To her bad luck, there were only a few ones who still took Sebastián as a serious thing in Hermes's cabin. The rest of the camp might have respected and looked up to Sebastián Valdez. Not the ones who slept in the most crowded floor of the Hermes cabin.
Marisol finished breakfast and went to do the first activity she had that morning. Sword skills lessons, in company of her esteemed friend, Evan. Marisol was the best swordsman in all Camp Half-Blood except, maybe, for Zoë Jackson. Anyway, this generation of demigods had its best swordsmen on the female side.
Marisol was beating the Hades out of Evan. That's when a guy with copper brown hair and gentle amber eyes, a guy who was gorgeous in extreme, walked into the battling arena. When Marisol thought gorgeous, she didn't mean hot or even attractive, but pretty. Cute. Evan, who was sweating a bit from their fight, was hot. The pretty boy walking to them looked like the kind of guy who's been friendzoned by every single girl he has ever spoken to. There was a huge chance it was due to the fact he was just too nice. There was a possibility she was mistaken. But the way his eyes looked around gave her the feeling he wasn't checking out any girls. Even when many of the ones in the battling arena had quite fit and nice bodies. His eyes stopped on her, and she felt as if someone had put an ice cube inside the back of her shirt. She held his gaze, though, because she never lost staring competitions. The guy was super tall. Even when almost all guys made Marisol look like a gnome, she could tell his height exceeded her normal standard of tall. For instance, he towered Evan. He approached them.
"I'm sorry" he said, since he had interrupted their fight. "Do you know where can I get a sword for the class? I signed up yesterday, because my friends convinced me not having any weapon skills is pretty lame." Marisol sheathed her sword in the strap on her back and took her helmet off (which was a size or two too big for her). She checked him out, who stood uncomfortable under her gaze, until she grinned.
"Sure, pretty boy." She turned to Evan. "Go find yourself a new partner for today, Evan. I'll take the noob." Evan smirked.
"Alright, boss." He walked off.
"Hey!" The cute guy protested.
"Don't worry; we call so all the newbie's." She lifted her hand. "I'm Marisol Valdez."
"Yeah, I know. You're Sebastián's little sister, aren't you?" Marisol frowned.
"Well, aren't you charming? I prefer being referred to as Marisol, though. I remember you now. You were in my cabin this morning, right?" She guessed.
"Right. Mary... soul?" He tried the pronunciation, failing completely even when he'd been careful to mimic the way she just said it.
"Mahriesohl... with a softer 'r'." She instructed him. "I ain't the soul of Virgin Mary, you know." Then she shrugged and began making her way towards the armoury. "Come on, pretty boy. Let's get you a sword." He caught up with her in a blink.
"I'm sorry" he apologised. "For mispronouncing your name, I mean." His apology made Marisol think he was, in fact, as cute as she'd guessed. The kind of cute she'd never paid any attention to before, romantically speaking. "I'd appreciate it if you could stop calling me that." He requested afterwards, with a slightly annoyed expression. Oh, so he doesn't like flirts, Marisol noted.
"Well you haven't told me your name yet, pretty boy." She insisted, since she'd figured it bothered him.
"I thought you said you knew who I was." He glared at her.
"Bad with names." She shrugged, as if she didn't care how annoying he thought her.
"Martin Windflowers, from cabin four." They were coming into the armoury as he said so, Marisol's eyes widened, and she cracked up.
"You're kidding, right? A child of Demeter whose surname's Windflowers?" Her laugh was loud. It was common for Martin to get annoyed whenever people made fun of the odd coincidence between his mother and his surname. Marisol surprised him, though, because she seemed way more amused by it than people usually were. His ears still turned bright red, since he was a bit embarrassed. She walked around the armoury instead, looking at the swords around her.
"Well, uhm, yeah. Guilty as charged." She wasn't paying attention to him anymore, as her eyes landed on all the celestial bronze surrounding her. She picked up a blade, tracing its sharp edge with her index finger, leaving an innocuous cut on her skin. She shook her head and turned to another option. He stepped forward. "You okay?" He asked.
"What?" She didn't lift her eyes to look at him, studying another blade.
"Your finger, you cut yourself." Marisol looked up at him for a while, until she finally snapped out of the trance she was in. She stared down to her bleeding finger.
"Oh. Well, nevermind, it's nothing, Martín." She waved the deal away and went back to the swords.
"My name is Martin. Not 'Martín'." He said.
"Whatever, Martín." He sighed, noticing it was hopeless; at least now weapons had her in deep concentration. She finally picked up a sword and handed it to him. "Here, try this one." He took it, in a strange way, and as his hand grabbed the hilt, she noticed the odd thing about it. "Oh, left-handed. Interesting." Marisol pointed out.
"Got a problem with that?" He said, a bit ruder than he had intended to, but his usually sweet nature made it easy for people to pick up on him, and he was pretty tired of it. He hadn't meant to take it out on Marisol.
"No. I just thought it's curious. It's said left handed people has more developed brains." Martin mumbled something like 'Oh, sorry' but Marisol was caught up in her work again. Her dark eyes, which had first startled him, seemed way gentler now the passion for the work she was doing filled them. She shook her head again, at the sword on his hand. It made him think that maybe there was more to her than being Sebastián's flirtatious little sister. The thought lasted right up until she began tracing the muscles on his arm with her thin, yet calloused fingers. She spent a lot of time in the forges, after all. The way her hands did not feel like usual girly hands, sent a chill and a red alert through all his system. He backed away.
"Just what exactly do you think you're doing?" Martin asked, alarmed.
"I'm trying to figure out which kind of sword would have a perfect balance on your grip." She said, oblivious to the way she'd been touching him. "I got it." She picked up the sword and examined it with the looks of an expert. Her hands lit up and Martin gasped at the view of Marisol and her hands on fire. She bended the celestial bronze to her will, shifting its shape making slight changes to it. She stared at what she'd created and frowned. "I'll be right back." She left Martin there, checking the rest of the weapons in the armoury. He could not quite understand the difference from one another, so his eyes skittered to something he understood better— the outside. His eyes first caressed the bright green grass, then the deep blue sky. At that time of the day, the sky was the exact same colour of the eyes of the prettiest girl at camp when she smiled. Giselle Park's, Martin's biggest crush. Being a child of Demeter, few demigods in camp had taken him seriously. He spent most of his time talking to dryads and picking up strawberries. He attended camp since he was eight, and ten beads hung around his neck. He was almost a solitary guy, taking care of his cabin's roof garden and helping Mr. D's children at the strawberry field. Even so, he'd managed to gain a slight friendship with some guys from the other cabins. Those ones who wanted some flowers to impress their dates. Except for the dryads, Martin Windflowers had almost no popularity amongst girls. In spite of that, he had his eyes set on no less than one of Aphrodite's daughters. He was deep lost in thought, picturing her mischievous blue eyes, staring at the piece of the camp's clear skies. He saw from inside the armoury when Marisol walked in. The sword she was carrying with her was magnificent.
"Here you have, pretty— I mean, Martín." He grabbed the hilt and noticed how different it felt from the first time he held it. Then the image of Marisol's fiery hands came back to his mind.
"Your hands... they were—" he was speechless, and Marisol chuckled.
"Yeah, it is this blessing Hephaestus gave my dad once... it turned out to run on the family, although it has faded a bit. It's only useful while forging; I can burn neither monsters nor people. I am harmless to almost everything that's not an object." She shrugged.
"I guess I should thank you." He smiled at the handy work she had pulled out.
"Oh, don't mention it." Her face went from sincere humbleness to a more tricky expression. "Although I wouldn't mind a thank-you kiss." Martin face was full of disbelief.
"A kiss?"
"Yeah, you know, the moment two people feel this strange magnetic dread. Then try to break free of it by leaning onto each other, eyes closed, and their lips brush each other's, setting a pace. Sweet, soft, warm. Comfortable, pleasant. When one tilts its head a bit to give the other one better access and—"
"I know what a kiss is, Valdez." He cut her off. "But I'm not kissing you." She pouted, offended.
"Then prepare yourself for a humiliating defeat, Windflowers." It took her half a second to unsheathe her blade and position herself. "You strike first." Martin was taught by his father to be a gentleman and that, of course, meant not to sword fight girls. Then again, he sensed it would offend Marisol deeply if he didn't fight her for being a girl. The whole purpose of not fighting her would be not to be disrespectful. But in this specific case, the disrespectful thing to do was backing off, so he tightened the grip on his sword and charged. She avoided him with almost no effort and took his sword with hers making him loosen the grip on the hilt. His sword shattered on the floor, and he felt the cold bronze of her sword on his neck.
"You would be dead by now." She pointed out. "But I like you, so I'll let you go in exchange for something." He was already beginning to think he might suck at all these: swordsmanship, trying to get Marisol off him...
"What would that be?" He arched up an eyebrow, dreadful of the answer.
"My prize" she answered, jumping ever so slightly to save the distance between them and giving him a kiss on the cheek. "Practise is over for today." Marisol walked out the armoury with a pace full of confidence, leaving Martin struggling with himself. He was both awestruck and mad at her.
"That can be considered as harassment, Valdez!" He yelled at the empty space she left behind.
Kristin Fjord was a daughter of Apollo with an uncommon confidence problem. She always wore jeans, even when at camp the temperature (and the training) forced you to wear shorts. She was like that, shy and fearful, until she met Marisol. Kristin was Marisol's favourite person at camp —besides Evan. She was fifteen and had helped her out in a lot of stuff. Marisol would never forget the moment they first met. It had been a mere coincidence, but they knew right away they were meant to be friends. Marisol was eleven and was dropped off at the base of Half-Blood Hill by her parents. Sebastián has disappeared right away, abducted by his friends. Marisol entered the Hermes cabin guided by Chiron. There was little space, but she found a clear spot on the floor, where she set her sleeping bag and her backpack with the few things she'd brought to camp: a bow, given to her by her parents, and a copy of Hamlet. A boy walked into the cabin just as she sat on her sleeping bag to contemplate how the rest of her summer was supposed to turn out. He had warm brown eyes and his father's curly black hair.
"Hey, that's my spot." The boy said. Marisol couldn't help to notice how attractive he was, as much as an eleven year old can find another eleven year old attractive.
"As you can see, it's taken by me now." They stared at each other daringly, until Marisol sighed. With an older brother, she'd learnt to share. "Here." She said, moving her sleeping bag a bit further from the wall, creating a new spot. "Now you've got a place." He grinned and handed out his hand.
"The name's Evan. Evan Ricks. Son of Hermes." Marisol was quite surprised by this introduction, since most new demigods in camp didn't know who their godly parent was. This she knew by what her brother had told her about camp.
"Have you been claimed?" She asked with excitement, her eyes sparkling with the marvel of a kid who sees its bedtime stories come to live. Evan winced.
"Not yet, I arrived a couple minutes ago." As he saw disappointment climbing to Marisol's expression, he tried to fix it. "But my mother told me so." Chest raised and everything, he made quite an impression. Maybe that's why Marisol couldn't help the wide-eyed attitude he provoked in her.
"I'm Marisol." Wide smile, wide eyes.
"That's quite difficult to say, what about I call you Sol instead?" Marisol shrugged, and just like that, he was allowed to use the new nickname he'd given her. "So who's your godly parent, Sol? Hermes as well? Or if you don't know, who do you think it might be?" She sighed and bit her lip, knowing the answer she was going to be was going to take any interest away from her.
"I'm second generation. My grandfather is Hephaestus, my mother's Calypso. That's why I kept some of godly blood, but it's almost nothing."
"Wow, that's kind of cool. Most demigods don't live enough to have kids. And you're telling me you're Calypso's daughter? Cool. Maybe you could hang out with the girls from the Demeter cabin? Since, you know, they love gardens and stuff."
"I suck at gardening." She confessed, glad he hadn't lost interest in her.
"Then what do you like?" That's where she could be cooler. That was her answer.
"I like swords. My father won't have me using a sword, but I love them." A sparkle and complicit grins. Marisol had won over Evan. She had a slightly more romantic interesting him than he had on her, but that was going to be solved soon, without damaging their friendship.
That's when Marisol decided to take a walk around camp. Evan didn't lose the opportunity to check it as well, so they went together. That's when they saw her. She was sitting outside the Apollo cabin with a worried expression. Although it was hot as hell, she was wearing jeans. She had Apollo's sunbathed blonde hair and her mother's dark eyes. Her face was freckled and her hair was braided over her left shoulder.
"Is everything okay?" Marisol asked, stepping towards her. Evan stood a bit behind, like wondering why Marisol would talk to a girl she didn't know. The girl nodded, and Marisol sighed. "Are you new here? I'm new as well. My name's Marisol." That's when the girl finally lifted her dark, trapping eyes. They were both bewitched by the intensity of her gaze.
"I'm not new. My name's Kristin. Kristin Fjord. I'm... trying to decide how to enter my cabin without being noticed." Evan got interested on that specific intention.
"Why?" He asked. Kristin was suddenly aware of his presence, and she looked away from his clumsy figure. A boy who had every single bone aching to reach an acceptable height.
"Because I don't like people looking at me." She admitted.
"But I'm looking at you, doesn't it bother you?" Marisol was rightfully surprised by Kristin's shyness.
"I... I don't feel comfortable among my brethren. They're all so handsome and gorgeous and then there's me. And I'm maybe okay, but compared to them... compared to them..." Evan wanted to say something, but it was just not in him the ability to tell girls whether they were pretty. Yet. Instead, Marisol tool a peek inside the cabin through the window, then spoke.
"You are the most beautiful girl I've met, Kristin. And I'm not saying this to make you feel better. I'm telling you this because I believe it to be true. I think you don't lack anything they've got. You're just as attractive. You've just... got to believe it yourself."
"Do you really think so?" Kristin eyes were not asking Marisol, they were demanding an answer from Evan. A neutral party, Marisol thought. Of course, eleven year old boys don't tell girls they're pretty. Evan did an exception for sad-eyed Kristin, though.
"Sure." He didn't look her in the eye, but the single syllable was enough to lift Kristin spirits up. That was when Kristin decided she wouldn't leave Marisol alone. That was when Evan decided he'd found the girls to hang out with. To be cocky with, and to laugh with.
Kristin was the reason Marisol still attended archery class, even when she hated it. Marisol needed to talk to Kristin for a change. So much sharing with boys didn't make her feel everything was as okay as when she had girl-talks with the golden girl. Being a girl sometimes means to talk about guys, just as guys talk about which girls they find hot and which they don't. So, strangely, she was actually looking forward archery. She spotted Kristin's golden head just as she stepped into the archery field. Her bow and quiver were a gift from her mother, for her first year at camp. Calypso thought her daughter would be as good with a bow as her brother had turned out to be, but Marisol had let her down.
Chiron urged Marisol to take her place. She liked the wise centaur, although she hated his class. He was the one who'd told her it didn't matter if she was no use with a bow or an arrow, that she could explore other weapons. That advice had taken her to try sword fighting. Her dad was out of his mind when she'd arrived back from camp with a sword and her mother had laughed loudly for a good while. Leo had grumbled 'You're just like your mother'. Even when Marisol couldn't picture her mom with a sword, she could picture her going against her dad's wishes just to make him mad. Her dad always said she was much like Calypso, but she just couldn't see the resemblance but in their dark almond eyes. That was the only thing you could see from her mother in her. Sebastián, on the other hand, was like her mother's copycat. He had her mother's beautiful cinnamon hair. Even Kristin's hair looked more similar to Calypso's than Marisol's. She ran towards Kristin and kissed her on her cheek. Kristin gifted her a wide smile.
"Marie" she said (she was the only one allowed to call Marisol that), with her soft and cutest voice. "You look happy today."
"Of course I do. I beat the Hades out of Evan on sword skills class. Magnificent victory to add to my story of sword fights with Evan." Kristin sighed at the mention of their friend. "Is there anything wrong, Kris?" She shook her head.
"It's just that Evan's been acting a bit weird lately. He won't meet me as much as he used to. He even dropped Art & Crafts with me."
"You know Evan's like that. He does stupid things without considering how much it could worry us. But don't worry. It'll be okay." Kristin smiled dryly.
"Sure. How's your day been anyways? Anything else besides beating Evan's sorry ass?" Marisol thought of it.
"There's this new guy in my sword class, it took me five seconds to win him. He had a very lame technique, though he was kind of cute." Marisol told Kristin.
"Who?" Kristin didn't personally know everyone at camp, but she did notice everyone, which Marisol was certainly incapable of doing.
"Martin Wind—"
"Windflowers. From cabin four, child of Demeter. Eighteen years old, talked to him during strawberry—"
"He is eighteen?!" Marisol exclaimed in disbelief.
"Valdez, pay attention to your target! Aim ain't just luck if you actually look at what are you supposed to shoot." Chiron told her off.
"Yes, Chiron." Marisol said with a tired tone. "So, he's eighteen?" She asked in a lower voice. Kristin nodded. "Holy Hephaestus! I had thought he was younger."
"You like him." Kristin pointed out. Marisol's mouth fell open.
"Valdez!" A familiar voice called out for her this time. Zoë Jackson, from her own cabin. That girl was way better at archery than she was. There was a slight rivalry between them, and Marisol hated to be reminded of how much she sucked at archery, so Zoë did it to push her to be better. "Why do I see so much chatting coming from you and no action?"
"Ugh, Zoë, don't be a pain. You know I suck at this."
"Yeah, because that's what you are!" She showed her tongue to Marisol, in a childish manner, to which Marisol rolled her eyes and turned to Kristin.
"So, going back to where we left it, no way, Kris." She let go of an arrow, and missed by a wide margin. She cursed under her breath. Zoë's laugh was loud. "I said I'm not going to pay attention to guys this summer! After Henry, I don't need any more bad boys."
"If there's one thing you can tell about Martin just by his looks, is that he's no bad boy."
"I know." Marisol acknowledged, a bit down.
"Come on, Marie, Martin is a nice guy, I'm sure he'll know to appreciate you and will take good care of you. I'm not one to usually encourage you to chase after boys, but I believe a nice guy like Martin would do you good." Kristin's expression was affable and sweet.
"You think so?" Marisol sighed. "He's eighteen. I doubt he'll ever notice me."
"I don't think it possible for people not to notice you" Kristin tried to cheer her up.
"We'll have to see" Marisol stated and threw another arrow, and for the first time ever, it actually hit the target.
"Finally! Good job, Valdez!" They heard Zoë shout.
"Shut up, Jackson, I'll beat you in sword fighting any time." In spite of the hostile tone of her words, she smiled to the girl of straight hair held in a ponytail and wise silver grey eyes. Then, she looked at Kristin's target. It was full of arrows, all of them bull's eyes. When she stopped to meditate about it, she understood the humiliation Kristin put her through might be a very good reason to why she hated archery.
Martin was polishing his new sword right by his cabin during his free time before dinner. He would normally look after his garden, think how his petunias were the exact same colour as Giselle's blue eyes and let his mind drift in daydream. Today, for a change, he was doing the unexpected for a guy like Martin Windflowers: polishing a weapon of his own. He thought of the dark eyes and the fiery hands which had forged it for him and was surprised to find himself thinking about her. After all, she'd only mocked him. But she'd been pretty amazing while she was at it. She'd given him the sword he was holding right then, when he was gifted with the visit of the one he'd never had the chance to chat with alone: Giselle Park herself.
"Hello." She said with a voice that seemed to be made by the soft summer breeze; instead of the regular, common human voice. Martin looked up, and went speechless.
"Giselle! Wow, I wasn't expecting you." He said, standing up abruptly, letting his blade shatter on the floor.
"Sorry, are you busy? Because I can go if you don't have time." She put a loose hair lock behind her ear with expertise.
"No, stay!" He exclaimed while picking up his sword and when he noticed the excess of enthusiasm on his voice, he cleared his throat. "I mean, I'm not busy, we can talk if that's what you came for." Giselle chuckled, and her soft giggles were charming and breathtaking. Martin fell in some sort of trance.
"Yeah, that's what I came for. Is that sword yours?" Giselle pointed at the weapon, the celestial bronze gleaming under late afternoon's mild sun.
"Yes, some friends convinced me to try a weapon other than trapping creepers. I thought I could give swordsmanship a shot." He smiled humbly.
"I like guys who can protect their girls." She admitted, eyeing him, who blushed trying to decide whether she was making a compliment or there was something else. Giselle admired the sword. She wasn't a blacksmith, but she did know to recognise art and beauty. "It's a very beautiful work—"
"Indeed. It took me a while, but I would classify it as one of my best pieces so far." Marisol simply dropped herself into the conversation, like she'd been always meant to be there. Martin had no idea where had she come from, and was both surprised and unpleased with her appearance. Marisol had come with the intention to see if he knew how to take proper care of his sword, regarding her last creation with the protectiveness of a careful mother. To find Martin chatting with Giselle had been purely coincidental. "Hello, pretty boy. I mean, Martín. What's up?"
"What are you doing here, Valdez?" He said, tiresome in his voice. Giselle appeared to be amused by the way Martin seemed to ignore Marisol. A quick note in the relationship between Giselle Park and Marisol Valdez: nothing. Marisol was reckless and careless, wore whatever she felt comfortable in and had a really hot, yet taken, big brother. That made her despicable to all of the girls in the Aphrodite cabin. To Giselle, it was nearly comical to see someone like Marisol had anything to do with Martin. Even when she wasn't a cruel girl, she didn't see how the two of them could have anything in common. Martin was a gentleman who took care of his garden, and Marisol was a free (but a bit barbarian) spirit who went from bad boy to bad boy. To Giselle, Marisol's love story wasn't a mystery.
"Nothing" Marisol said, thinking of an excuse, feeling Giselle's amused curiosity over her. "I was just walking by, thought you might have no hobbies nor activities to do in your spare time and it occurred to me I could teach you some great fun stuff to do and," she checked up Giselle and put a hand over her mouth, as if for to share a secret. "By the looks of it, you need it." Martin was about to send Marisol away, when Giselle interrupted him, thinking she could end the matter quickly.
"You know her?" She asked. Martin scratched the back of his head.
"Yeah, she's my uh, tutor in sword skills class. Why?" He gave Giselle an apologetic look, which said 'I didn't invite her over'.
"Tutor?" She repeated, sceptical.
"I'm awesome with a sword; give me some credit, Park." Marisol defended herself. It was a brief moment, but as Marisol bragged, Giselle could tell Martin's eyes were on Marisol, ignoring her completely.
"I just remembered I have to go do something. You two have fun." She could not stand the humiliation to have been ignored, even if just a second, for a girl like Marisol. Before Martin could stop her, Giselle was gone. He turned to tell Marisol off, when she smiled at him unworried, and unsheathed her sword.
"Wanna practise some more?" Martin sighed, defeated. There was no possible way for him to get really angry at Marisol, even when she had just scared away his crush the first time she had ever talked to him alone. He wanted to be mad at her, but the way she couldn't care less about Giselle, the way she asked him to be careless too made him forget the girl he liked had just walked away.
"Yeah, sure, why not." He shrugged and picked up his sword.
"But first, a kiss for the teacher!"
"Valdez!" He complained, his face red, uncomfortable with Marisol's flirtatious ways.
"Aw, come on, a kiss on the cheek?"
"No. Drop it." She smiled.
"I can drop my mouth onto yours, sure."
"Marisol!" He blushed brighter; she gave him a victorious grin.
"Okay, okay, let's just clash swords and all of that." Martin sighed with relief.
Marisol was onto Giselle. She had thought girls like Giselle didn't pay any attention to boys like Martin, but after what she'd seen she wasn't so sure anymore. She didn't want to lose him to her before she could get a fair shot to see if she really liked him. To see if she could make him like her back. She wanted to check if Martin was really a guy who wouldn't hurt her. That's why she'd woken up early to catch him fixing the flowers in the roof of his cabin for cabin inspection.
"Hi there, Martín." She greeted from the ground. Martin was shocked to hear her voice and almost fell off the roof.
"What the Hades...!" He looked down, to find Marisol's mocking smile. "Marisol." He said, with very little enthusiasm.
"Hey, if you talk like that I might believe you're not thrilled to see me." He understood there was no getting rid of her.
"Don't you have friends of your own?" He asked, not on a rude manner, but a curious one.
"I'm glad you worry about me not having any friends, but I do. I just decided I'd like to make you one of them."
"Why would you like to be my friend?" He jumped off the roof, landing steadily and gracefully.
"Because you make me look great every time I destroy you with my sword." Martin finally let go of a sincere smile. Yet you picked me up from the ground during capture the flag, he though. He was becoming fond of Marisol. It was impossible not to like her, with her free spirit and her witty and quick jokes, but he had a crush on another girl. A huge crush and it was completely impossible for him to get Giselle's attention with Marisol batting her eyelashes all around him.
"Let's go." He told Marisol.
"Where to?" He grinned.
"The dining pavilion, of course. Aren't you having breakfast?" Marisol nodded and followed, taking this walking to breakfast as a small victory.
"Did it hurt?" Marisol couldn't resist asking him.
"What?" Poor Martin, too distracted and naive to prevent what was coming.
"When you fell from Olympus, of course." Martin gave her an annoyed look.
"You make me regret being nice to you. Are you ever going to stop mocking me?" She giggled.
"But Martín, you're so dazzling I can't contain myself."
"I hardly think so. You're the kind of girl who would break my heart in half a blink." Marisol pretended to be offended.
"Oh, pretty boy, I would break you anything but your heart". Martin couldn't help to mumble nonsense sounds until his neurones went back to normality and he could complain, telling her off by yelling her surname. He had to learn to keep it cool around her, even with her constant flirting and everything.
"You should be more careful. People will think of us as a couple."
"I'm not in the business to care for what people think. But I don't mind if the whole camp thinks we're dating. Do you?" Of course I do, I'm after another girl, he thought, but could not bring himself to say it.
"I'll see you later, Marisol." He said, and she didn't understand why he'd said so, until she noticed they had arrived to the dining pavilion. He was a son of Demeter and as such, he was meant to sit with his brethren, far away from her. Is it safe to date you, Martín? Her thoughts asked him as she sat besides Evan, who was looking at her with an entertained expression.
"You are such a liar, Sol. You said you weren't going to date anyone this summer."
"And I'm not going to." Evan laughed.
"Oh, Martín, did it hurt when you fell from Olympus?" He said, holding his hands close to his face, faking a dreaming expression, in his best attempt to copy her.
"Shut up, Ricks. Or I'll find myself in the need to ask you about why you are avoiding Kris." Evan's expression turned grim.
"It's nothing."
"Sure, nothing. Good thing I know you, Evan."
"Shut up, Valdez." He said, looking away, to avoid making eye contact and confirming her what she already knew.
When Martin felt confident enough about his sword skills, he participated for his third time in capture the flag. It might be important to mention that the first time he played, Martin was eight, and was one of those losers who got knocked out in a sec and woke up to realise they had broken something. So yeah, he hadn't played since then, not that his cabin was very participative in the game. Not until a couple weeks ago, when they had convinced him to and a tiny girl sprained his ankle. He got into Athena's team, which this time meant he was in Marisol's team as well. Giselle wasn't playing, though she was watching. He had known she was going to be an spectator all week, and had wanted to make a good impression, so he'd been practising specially hard that week. Giselle was a nice Aphrodite daughter who was currently single, by what looked to Martin as a miracle. Nothing less than a miracle could make Giselle be single. It was his shot to win her heart, and he was not going to throw it away. The only thing he had to do was to capture the damn flag, easy peasy. The children of Athena told him he would be in the front line, which meant he was supposed to go for the flag, good news. Bad news was among the front liners, there was also...
"Oh my, if it isn't my pretty boy!" Marisol exclaimed jumping on him. He stumbled but didn't fall. He kept his balance as he tried to get Marisol off of him, who was now hanging from his neck.
"Seriously, Valdez." He grumbled as he put her on the floor.
"I'm so excited you are going to play as well. This is an amazing game. You look so cute in full Greek armour. Also, the fact you are going to chase makes you even hotter." She winked at him. He glanced nervously at Giselle, who was still watching the game. She'd seemed very uncomfortable about Marisol the first time they met. Now, her expression was impassive, and Martin didn't know whether it was a good or a bad sign.
"Valdez, drop it. Anyways, how are you in the front line?" He was asking out of being mad for feeling he had very bad luck. If Marisol was in the front line, he had zero possibilities of catching the flag. Marisol cracked up, and so did the people around him.
"Easy you got confused by her childish looks, Windflowers, but Soul here is the best front liner we've got." Said a guy with curly, sandy hair and deep sea green eyes, probably one of Percy Jackson's sons. "Zoë always complains how they can't get in different teams to prove who's the best, since they're in the same cabin." The fun that produced him showed he was, indeed, brother to Zoë.
"Soul?" Martin asked. He suddenly noticed Sebastián was there. Sebastián was a standard-tall guy, with blondish brown hair, fair skin, dark eyes, and Marisol's same wicked smile. Martin winced, since he was also freely gifting him a murderous glare. He had known better than to let Marisol flirt with him, but if Sebastián just knew there was no stopping her, he would glare at his sister instead of him.
"Well, nobody can say Sol, except for her friend, Evan. And she refuses to be nicknamed Marie." Sebastián answered him. Dude, a couple days ago they were friends. Not the closest friends to ever exist, but friends.
"Uh, okay." Said Martin for all answer. Zoë's divided them into flanks. Martin got to be a lateral, and so did Marisol, so he guessed it wasn't a bad position. Chiron began the game. One second to another, everybody was gone. Only Marisol was still standing there.
"What are you waiting for?" She asked. "Run!" And so, she disappeared. Damn, she is fast, Martin thought as he tried to keep up with her. Somehow, his first instinct was to follow her, mainly fearing she could get harmed. Of course, it never occurred to him that maybe Marisol was way too good for this game, moving around with great speed and without making a sound, and would never get hurt. Someone appeared in her path and she knocked the other girl out with one slice of her sword and a hit from her hilt. Martin stared in awe, remembering the first time he'd fought her. She'd disarmed him so easily it had been almost embarrassing. He suddenly lost her from sight, but he kept running, no longer looking for the flag, but for Marisol. When he found her, she was grinning mockingly.
"Where were you?" He asked.
"Oh my gods, you were worried for me!" She got closer and jumped to kiss his cheek over his helmet, before he could stop her. It was a bit uncomfortable for her having to jump to do so, but Martin was tall, and he wasn't willing to lean to simplify her job.
"Now, I regret it." He admitted.
"Aw, I was just getting the flag, you know." She jumped and kissed him again. He had to hold her down, with his hands on her shoulders, in order to keep her from doing it again.
"Quit doing that!" She just smiled wider.
"Anyway you want it, Martín."
"So where's the flag?" He asked.
"Did you notice how we are alone right now?" Her look was very suggestive.
"Valdez." He cut her off, alarmed.
"Oh, don't worry, the forest is quite big, no one will hear us." She insisted.
"Marisol!" He was blushing so much she couldn't help to giggle.
"Okay, here's the flag." She held it up. "The creek's a few metres from here. We've won. What about a victory kiss?"
"How do I have to tell you to drop the act and stop flirting with me?" Marisol was going to answer, but she saw something behind him, and her eyes widened.
"Duck!" She yelled, and they both went down. Marisol handed him the flag. "Run!" She whispered in his ear, which sent a chill down his spine. Not necessarily a bad chill. He didn't question her, he just ran with all his might towards the creek, and when he dared to look back he saw Marisol fighting one of Ares' daughters, one of those very scary, super strong girls. She did an awesome job to keep her at bay, and he felt guilty somehow. He should be the one looking after her, not the other way around. He crossed the creek and his team cheered. They had won. Everybody patted him in the back and told him what an awesome job he'd done. He wanted to tell them it was Marisol's doing, actually, but they wouldn't let him. When Giselle walked up to him with starry eyes and a charming smile, he felt guilty. It had been Marisol the one who'd won this thing. Not him.
After the game, Marisol not only had to deal with jealousy (Why do I care, anyways?) but also with a bigger problem, called Sebastián. He walked up to her right after the game, took off his helm and gave her the same look he'd given her when she'd gotten her first high school boyfriend, back home, during her freshmen year. She'd just kissed him by the lockers and Sebastián had gone crazy about it, even involving her parents; her dad also out of his mind about it. She could still remember her mother's words.
"Try to keep it down around the guys. Your father and brother do not know how to deal with this kind of situations." Calypso'd winked at her. Now, she realised maybe she'd pushed it a little in front of Sebastián, earlier during the game.
"Marisol!" Sebastián said, angrily. "You have to stop throwing yourself at guys." He told her off.
"Don't be annoying, Seba. I only throw myself at Martin, and we're just friends." She waved her hand in order to take relevance from the matter.
"Yeah, friends, that's what you call it nowadays. An that's not my point!" Seba glared at her again.
"Shh... do you hear that?" Her brother was startled. He looked around.
"Hear what?" His eyes narrowed as he looked down at her.
"The distant sound of 'I don't care!' mixed with the 'I've seen you slide your tongue down Gwen's throat in the most disgusting ways so shut up' melody." She said, with her best 'fuck you' glare for implying she was some sort of slut just for flirting with a guy. Gods, her brother could be so annoying. She walked away, leaving her brother open mouthed, worried in his own annoying way, and offended.
Martin had had his share of Sebastián's jealousy as well. It'd taken him a while to get him to understand he wasn't interested in Marisol. At least, not as a girlfriend.
A few days after that, Martin was all alone, doing what his brethren wouldn't do. Demeter had a preference for daughters, so there were really few guys in his cabin. This year, just his luck, it was only him. He was gardening on the roof of his cabin when Marisol appeared. As she walked towards Martin, she thought how all those girls who'd friendzoned him had most likely never seen him shirtless. Because, gods, that wide back, that slightly tanned skin and those strong muscles moving restlessly with the delicate and meticulous works of gardening could've made her drool on the spot. Of course, she contained herself. She had already forgotten how Giselle had been so close to him after capture the flag. Marisol would forgive Martin anything, without even noticing. She looked around and saw his shirt neatly folded on the ground. She picked it up. A tiny souvenir, she told herself.
"Hey there, Martín. Trying to impress me?" She smiled cockily. He frowned.
"I'm trying to get this flowers to grow beautiful and strong, if that impresses you, well yeah." He enjoyed her cheerful company, but it made him very weary the fact that she flirted with him so much. He knew she was just teasing him, because no girl like Marisol would ever truly like him. She was exactly the kind of girl who breaks the hearts of heartbreakers. "Also, my name is Martin, not Martín, thank you very much."
"Whatever, Martín." She insisted. Her eyes observed curious from the ground. "That's a great ass the one you've got there, you know?" She spilled like she'd said 'What a nice day, huh?' Martin blushed. There was no denying Marisol was a beautiful girl, but it wasn't fair she took advantage of it to tease him so much.
"Valdez!"
"I know, I know, I shouldn't tease you. But I enjoy it. Like I enjoy watching your sweaty back working up there, flexing your muscles while you're gardening—"
"Valdez, please. I do not enjoy it." He pleaded.
"Why, of course you do. You just don't think I'm serious and that makes you feel insecure." She snorted.
"Well, are you serious?" He asked. She stared intensely into his eyes, and he could almost see the scars hiding in her gaze. The side to Marisol he didn't know, and he'd never seen. Then she rolled her eyes and sighed, which he guessed was her way of saying 'Of course not, why would I like you?' and he didn't know how to feel about it. Sadly for Martin, he could not tell how Marisol said 'I think I really, really like you' with her eyes. "As I was saying, you're not serious. So, Valdez, there's something I need you to help me with." Marisol lowered her eyes when she noticed he hadn't figured it yet. She guessed she would have to tell him.
"Okay, but you'll have to pay me." Marisol smiled.
"No kisses." Martin said right away, Marisol frowned.
"Alright, no kisses. What about you—"
"Nothing that might romantically involve us." She snapped her tongue.
"Hades. Well, I got it. I have something to tell you, and you have to hear me out without interrupting me. All I ask is for you to listen and believe me." Martin was confused, but he nodded.
"Okay, I'll hear you out. Now you get to hear me. You know, there is this girl..." he waited for her to show interest in the topic. Of course, Marisol was more than interested. She fixed her eyes on his, and they shone with curiosity.
"Yes?"
"I like her." He said. Marisol's eyes on his seemed to pierce through them even more intensely.
"And?"
"And I don't know how to ask her out. I know it's dumb but—"
"It isn't dumb at all." Marisol said. The way she was looking at him was one she'd never used before, and he could not decipher it.
"Well, then, what do you think I should do?"
"Go right up to her and tell her with all its words you like her. No matter who's with her, or where is her. If there're a lot of people don't care about them. She should definitely fall for that." He finally caught something in her eyes. She was dreamy. Was there a guy Marisol wanted to walk up to her and tell her he liked her? It was so hard to tell, since Marisol didn't seem especially fond of anyone at camp, besides Evan or Kristin. "I mean, surprise her, improvise, just go with your best grin, say 'I like you' and kiss her. And if she doesn't back down, kiss her a lot. I know you're not one for kisses, but—" she smiled mockingly
"Hey!" He complained, though he smiled at her in spite of her teasing, for the first time.
"Anyways, do your best."
"Well, that seems easier... I guess. At least it's a simpler plan." He stared at the Aphrodite cabin from the rooftop. "Thanks, Marisol. Maybe now I'll get Giselle to go out with me." Something inside Marisol cracked. She felt dizzy.
"Giselle?" She whispered.
"Yeah, you know her, Marie. Giselle Park from cabin ten. The brunette girl with—"
"Don't call me like that." She interrupted him. He turned to her, surprised. He'd never called her anything she disliked, but right up until then he would've sworn Marisol would let him call her whatever he wanted.
"Call you what?" He asked.
"Marie."
"Uhm, okay." Martin muttered. He sighed. "Right. You wanted to tell me something, what was it?"
"Oh, it was nothing. I forgot Kristin and Evan told me to meet them earlier today. I should go see what they want. Bye." She walked away, leaving a most confused Martin. If he hadn't known her well, he would've sworn she was crying. He was sure she was pretty upset, though. Was it something he'd done? He looked around for his shirt, and was surprised not to find it anywhere. Damn, Marisol.
"Marisol! Did you take my shirt?" He yelled at her figure, which got further little by little.
"Now, why would I ever do so?" She yelled back, without turning around, and she disappeared before Martin got to answer her. She was right, why would he take his shirt? Yet, why was she mad?