"You've got to be kidding." I cross my arms and look at the centaur like he just suggested we go to the underworld for a picnic. All around me, Camp Half Blood is empty, except for about six stray campers and the cleaning Harpies.
"Now, now, you two. I'm sure there are other things you would," Chiron looks at the sword in my hand, "rather be doing."
"I wanted to practice fighting, like usual." I state firmly, eyes stony.
"The time for that will come later. We need someone to make food for the remaining campers and staff, and while you are the only two available at the moment, why not get it over with now?" The centaur rests a hand on Percy's shoulder with a sorrowful look, to which I roll my eyes. Throwing my unused sword on the ground, I stomp toward the kitchens.
"You're awfully quiet." I snap, pushing into the small area.
"Sorry..." The son of Poseidon mumbles. His eyes look dull and sad, and I frown while pulling an apron over my pants.
"Whats wrong?" Even I'm surprised at how gentle my voice sounds, like I'm afraid to harsh a tone will break him. He looks up at my question, eyes meeting mine in surprise. He stares as if looking to see if I'm making fun of him. After he decided I'm being genuine, he leans against the wall defeatedly.
"I, uhh..." He lets out an uneasy laugh. "I was really looking forward to seeing my mom over the holidays. And now... I'm stuck here, with no one to talk to." My brief moment of sympathy disappears and I bristle at his words. Turning and walking deeper into the kitchen briskly, I talk over my shoulder in clipped tones, wondering why what he said hurt me so much.
"I'm sorry I'm such a horrible person." My voice almost shakes but I control myself as I lean my hands on the countertop, pretending to look for a recipe.
"Oh, crap! Clarisse... I'm sorry! I didn't mean it like that! You know I... You're my... We're friends." He drops his forehead in his hands. "I'm an idiot, ok? I've just had a lot on my mind, and my mom usually helps me figure things out. But now, I can't see her!" He stumbles with his words. A little part of my anger waves a white flag of surrender. Still not looking at him, I fish a drachma out of my pocket and toss it in his direction.
"Iris message her later." I swallow the rest of my pride and finally turn to face Percy, who's looking at me like he's never seen me before. "What, Jackson?!" I give him an irritated look. He only smiles back mischievously.
"Nothing. So, what are we cooking?" He walks around the counter island and flips through an old recipe book that lies on top of a cabinet. After a second, he turns to face me, a piece of paper held triumphantly in his hand. With a devious smile, he starts toward me. "No one said we had to make DINNER." He holds the recipe out to me. Its for chocolate chip cookies. I look at him, amused.
"Challenge," I pluck the recipe from his hands. "Accepted." I make my way to the oven and preheat it to the temperature on the little index card. I can't help but notice that Percy looks a lot more cheerful as he watches me. Before long, he has sugar, flour, and other ingredients laid out in front of us. I grab a mixing bowl, but he grabs the ancient bag of chocolate chips we dug up. Popping a few in his mouth, I try to ignore him and turn back to measuring the sugar.
After a moment, I feel what I'm pretty sure is a chocolate chip hit me square the back.
"You are SUCH a child, Jackson." I grumble, although I want to smile.
I disregard the next two chips, but on the fourth, I spin around and throw a handful of flour at him. "STOP IT." I laugh. He laughs too and pushes himself off the table he had been sitting on.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, sue me!" He starts cracking eggs into the bowl, jokingly pushing me out of the way. I halfheartedly roll my eyes as he grabs the big metal spoon and starts mixing the dough furiously.
We start putting the chocolate studded batter on the cookie sheet, and I notice he's eating some.
"You're not supposed to eat raw cookie dough, idiot." I joke, helping myself to some. He rolls his eyes at me and opens the oven, the heat hitting me square in the face. I step back and let him slide the tray onto the racks, and turn away to set the egg timer near my elbow.
When I look up from my work, he's looking at me, arms crossed.
"What do you want, Jackson?" I raise my eyebrows.
"Thanks for the drachma, you know, for my mom." His face is suddenly serious. I'm taken aback by his spontaneous, but genuine, gratitude. I allow myself a tiny smile.
"Whatever, Percy."
Some of his usual playful light returns, and he looks surprised.
"You called me Percy." Heat rushes to my cheeks, and not just because of the oven. I shrug a little and turn to watch the cookies rise. All of a sudden, white powder sprays on my cheek, staining my shirt. I swivel my head to look at him just as he reaches for another scoop of flour.
"You are so dead!" I exclaim, half serious, as I lunge for the bag of sugar. For the first time that day, or in a while, really, I laugh freely. We run around the kitchen, ambushing each other with baking ingredients. By the time we come to a stop, both of us are thankful we're wearing aprons. I laugh to myself as I try to catch my breath, leaning across from him on the table. For a moment, things go back to the boring usual.
Suddenly, the egg timer shrieks loudly, and I jump forward, heart racing. I fall into Percy and almost lose my balance, but his arms close around me and keep me steady. We start laughing again, and he tips my chin up, gently bringing our lips together. What surprises me more than the kiss was that I kissed him back, readjusting my arms as I press into him. We stay like that, kissing, for a long time, and the smell of burning cookies fills the air.