"And then he asked me to go to the 4th of July fireworks with him..."
Everything my best friend/ half sister, Emmie, was saying was slipping in one ear and out the other. All of my attention was fixed on him. Percy Jackson. He was just coming back from the arena with the Apollo cabin and his crazy new girlfriend attached to him at the hip. He looked my way and smiled. It took everything I had not to cringe at this sight. His girlfriend isn't awful. We use to get along very well, but that was before they started dating.
My cabin and I were actually on our way to the practice arena ourselves, which I found horribly ironic. Percy used to practice with us but he changed his schedule to match the Apollo cabins' just for her. Just for Jessica.
That's what she thinks, but I know better. It's not just for her. If she were smarter she would have figured it out by now.
Percy has had plenty of other girlfriends here at camp. They were practically lining up at his cabin door as far as I was concerned.
First there was Rachelle. The whole thing was totally unofficial and sort of ruined by the whole oracle thing, but still.
Percy being Percy, didn't let that stop him. And believe me, his defeating Kronos was a huge self confidence boost for him. You could see it the way he walked and stood straighter and, of course, in the way he flirted endlessly and relentlessly with the girls at camp. I mean, he was offered immortality. That would do it for nearly anyone.
Next was Millie from Demeter. Then a variety of Aphrodite girls, of course. Now he's stuck on Jessica.
He changed his schedule for every one of them (Except Rachelle, that being what it was) and they are stupid enough to brag like it is something special.
"Percy really cares. You can tell because he wants to be with me all the time." No he doesn't!
I hope they know how lucky they are. Percy was my very best friend before I screwed it up. I screwed it up by kissing him, by developing feelings, by being just as stupid as the girls he flirts with. As he smiled at me now I faked what I hoped was something pleasant. After dinner, maybe even after curfew depending, he would come to my cabin and ask to talk, like he does every night, once he pulled himself away from his flavor of the week. I would tell him we would wake everyone in my cabin so he would suggest we go for a walk. I would hesitate, as usual; on one hand I've waited all day for this moment but on the other I knew what would come.
But Percy, being Percy, wouldn't know to think that that was why. He would think that I was afraid of breaking the rules, and reassure me, promise me that we wouldn't get caught. "And if we do, we've faced worse than the harpies before."
We'll walk and talk our way to the beach then relax by the sound like we have for years.
I love and hate talking to him.
I love it because it's him. Percy Jackson, my best friend, the savior of Olympus and defeater of Kronos, and quite possibly the love of my life.
I hate it because all we talk about now is them. His girlfriends. His flavor of the week. I swear if I didn't know any better I would think that is exactly what he is trying to do. Trying to get with every girl at camp, trying to taste every flavor there was at camp...
We used to talk about everything under the sun as most best friends do. We have grown so far apart, though. At least, from my perspective we have. He has no idea.
Now it's just his current girlfriend, how in love they are, how much fun they have together, her reaction to something he said. BLAH! BLAH! BLAH!
Sometimes I hope he knows how very much it pains me to hear this bull crap…. as if he's ever bothered to be concerned with me in anyway.
After our late night conversations I know I'll just go back to my cabin and silently cry myself to sleep. It happens every night I talk with him. Then I have the nerve to dream of things that will never happen and make it all that much worse.
I know how all of this will play out, because it happens every time, and yet when he does come to my cabin every night I go with him and fake my smiles and laughs the whole time.
He tells me he's finally got it right, that she's the one.
How do you even have a clue? You're 16! He asks me about my day out of general politeness (his mother's hard work, no less) and I brush it off because I know he has more to say and I listen, because that's what best friends do.
I wish I could just tell him how I feel so maybe, even if he doesn't return my feelings, he'll at least show a little mercy and stop torturing me like this. But what is a girl supposed to say? Honestly?
"That's great, Emmie. Oh, gods, you lucky girl."