The Detour-

A.N.: Yeah, I know I'm writing a lot of fanfictions lately. But I'm also wrapping up my I.D. story; Masquerade, today, and to be honest, this story idea has been bugging me for weeks. So you just have to understand that I simply HAD to write this. Otherwise, I would've been beside myself with writer's block concerning my other fanfictions. And just note that this is a Leyna fanfiction, and I do not ship Jeyna or Liper of any of those stupid pairings THAT WILL NEVER HAPPEN. Or at least, SHOULD never happen. And this is my first AU fanfiction, so I'm trying it out. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Rick Riordan owns PJO. Not me, since I'm a teenage girl who likes to write fanfiction.

One: Reyna PoV

I slammed the door, the window panes rattling. I tossed my bag onto the couch and sank to the floor, burying my face in my hands.

Why? Why was I always this close?

Swearing colorfully under my breath, I pushed myself up and stormed into the kitchen. Aunt Circe was off on one of her business trips, so I didn't take care to be quiet.

The sight of them together, hand in hand, laughing, kissing, touching…

My stomach lurched and I choked down a sob, making my way to my room. I pulled my big, ancient set of lavender vintage suitcases out from under my bed. They were covered in dust and the paint was wearing off at the corners, but they suited my purpose. I yanked clothes from my drawers, shirts, jeans, even a sundress or two, stuffing them inside. I traded my jeans and gold tank top for a pair of black yoga pants and a purple racerback, pulling my hair into a loose ponytail. Books, a few magazines and a picture of my mom joined the mix on the floor.

I was packing for possibly the biggest mistake of my life. It was, by far, the most rebellious thing I'd ever done. But Circe would be supportive. She was fiercely independent and believed in doing what needed to be done. And this needed to be done, for my sanity. And when she called, I'd just feed her some 'I'm taking time to travel the country and expand my horizons in order to find myself' crap. She'd eat it up and tell me to call her if I needed anything, gushing about how lovely of an idea it was.

And my mother… she didn't need to find out. And she wouldn't. Because Circe wouldn't bother to tell her, and my mother wasn't due for a visit home from Afghanistan for at least a year.

Maybe I was taking the easy way out, but for once, I wasn't too concerned with the state of my pride.

Once I was done, I snapped the suitcases shut and hauled them outside, shoving them into the trunk of my car. I dashed back inside, scribbling a note to Circe about how Dakotah was taking care of the dogs and I was headed to New York to stay with a friend for awhile. Guilt bubbled up in my stomach, but I shoved it down and locked the door to the apartment behind me.

My car is a roughed up old silver Cadillac convertible from the 80s. It was a boat of a car, which made it a pain to parallel park, but I liked it well enough to make up for its slightly eccentric appearance. I stuck the keys in the ignition and peeled out of the suburban driveway, not hesitating to crank up the radio.

I'd hastily texted Annabeth on the way home from the party, and she'd replied in a heartbeat with her Manhattan address. I'd memorized it perfectly in the relatively short span of time I'd known it, it's concrete significance keeping me grounded and focused on the long road head. Because if I stopped driving, even for a second, I was afraid my sense of logic would kick in and tell me to turn the hell around and get back to San Francisco before everyone noticed I was gone.

But I wanted to be gone. I wanted to leave and never come back. To just drop off the face of the earth. I would practically rather die than see them together again.

Memories of the party came to the surface, and I responded by turning the radio up even louder and singing along to some country song that I only knew half the words to. I rummaged through my purse and grabbed my iPhone, not hesitating to pop the address into the GPS.

It was nearly seven o'clock, and the sun was setting on my back. The endless stretch of asphalt and yellow lines in front of me calmed my mind somehow, flushing the anger from my system and replacing it with a focused determination. The highway made me feel small and insignificant, like a comma in a thousand page book.

My phone buzzed, the GPS blotted out by a text notification.

A text from him.

WHERE R U?

I shook my head and ignored it, turning off the ringer to avoid any further interruption from anyone back home. Miranda Lambert was blasting through the speakers now, and I tapped my foot to the beat as a cruised along the highway. To hell with them. How could he have been so freaking blind? And her too? You'd expect your best friends to know you better.

Well, the world had a way of surprising me in the worst way, it seemed.

I glanced out at the highway before me, and then at my GPS.

I had a long way to go. But it would be worth it.

So there's the fabulous first chapter! I know it was a little short, but if I was going to make it sort of intriguing, I can't give too much away too soon. I hope you all liked it, and if you would, please do review. And I have started my freshman year of high school, so I won't be updating all the time. I'm shooting for a good lengthy chapter once or twice every two weeks. Anyways, please review, and don't be afraid. Constructive criticism is ALWAYS appreciated. Thanks so much for reading!

Xoxo-NotsoSugarQueen