I don't own PJO.

CHAPTER 4

Aspasia

"I hate everything that has ever existed." I mumble into my pillow.

"It's not that bad." Aaron tries to convince me, leaning against my door frame. I push myself onto my elbows, looking at him sternly.

"I'm literally living in a closet. A closet."

Aaron tries to hide a smile, which irritates me to no degree. "I know I'm suppose to be sympathetic and all, but you have to admit, it's pretty funny."

I bury my head back down into the pillow. It's the end of the school day, and now I have the rest of my waking hours to lament over every single thing I've done in the past eight hours. I feel like a social pariah, like every class I go to, I manage to say something that's just off enough to make everyone stare for a second. Gods, it's not even the stares, why should the stares bother me? But it's-it's the intelligence, the power behind those stares. Why do these eyes have power over me? Why do I let them determine how I feel?

"I am just a freak? Is that what's happening to me?" Silence. I sit back up, my hair crazed around my face. "Eh-hem?"

Aaron just looks at me blankly. "What?"

"Anything to add?" I ask, slightly accusatory. I regret that, but I'm a little upset, and my head is killing me and Aaron isn't really helping.

"Well, you do act a little..."

"A little what?"

"Pretentious?"

"Pretentious?" I laugh, a little angry. "How so?"

"Well, correcting a teacher for starters-"

"She was wrong."

"Still, it's just- I don't know, it makes you seem... Like, like you think you're better than everyone else." He says, not making eye contact.

"How in the world does it do that?" I roll my eyes.

"I don't know!" I wait for some more information, but he just shrugs. Rubbing the bridge of my nose, I ask, "Anything else I should know about?"

He doesn't hesitate. "Asking people who their parent is-

"Is a perfectly legitimate question." My voice sharpening. "It's something I was wondering, so I asked it!"

"It doesn't matter here. There aren't any cabins, there aren't any lines drawn between people, so-"

"I didn't know what to say, it seemed like a normal question to ask."

"Yeah, but it's something freshmen ask."

"So?!"

"It's just not..." He searches for a word, running a hand through his hair. "Cool." He instantly looks like he regrets that word, but it's too late now.

"Oh." I say sarcastically. "It's not cool? Well, now that I know that, let me just write it down so that I can make sure I get in with the cool crowd."

"Gods, Aspasia," Aaron rubs his face, frustrated. "Why d'you have to be like this?"

"You're the one acting weird." I stab my finger at him. "Why does it matter if I-"

"It doesn't matter." Aaron cuts me off. "Don't worry about it."

"No, let's just-"
"It doesn't matter, Aspasia."

"Aaron, I-"

"Just let it drop." He says firmly. To end the conversation further, he saunters away, closing my door behind him.

I stare at the door, confused. Aaron's never acted like this with me, so... Socially conscious. Maybe he's just going through what I am, maybe he's just getting concerned with what other people think. But there were other people at camp too, but his arrogance didn't swell like here. And he's never shut me out like this before, never just walked away. Yeah, we got into fights (metaphorically and literally), but we managed to work through it in our own kinetic, disjointed way. But now-

I lay on my back, letting out a grown of frustration. People are stupid, I decide. Maybe I should just run away and live in the woods. Be Queen of the Squirrels. Yeah, I nod to myself. That'd be the life.

After a moment of silence, I reach into my pocket and pull out my phone (a device that I'm still foreign to). I dial in Jean's number and wait. But all I get is a short voice message, saying how he's sorry that he couldn't get to the phone and that he'll call me back when he can. But even those two sentences are so nice to hear is Jean's awkward, growing, lovely voice.

At the beep, I say, "Hey- It's me. Oh, uhm, I mean, it's Aspasia. Sorry, I just- I had my first day at school and-" I try to find the end of this sentence, but I don't know where to look. "I just- I just wanted to check in. Uhm. Yeah." I let the call linger, listening to the dead noise on the other end of the line before I hang up.

I sigh and roll over on my side. But in the corner of my eye, I see something glimmer on the ceiling. I sit up, trying to see what it is. It's just a little spot, a shimmery silver against the off-white. I'm about to stand up on my bed and touch it when it starts to grow. I hunch down, a little scared. The spot grows, shifts and deepens to something strange and foreign. I think of screaming, but no noise leaves my mouth. The spot is now the size of a man, stretching down towards me, taking shape, taking-

"No." I murmur. The spot has become my father, all shining and desperate, like he's floating on an ocean that is my ceiling, and he's stretching out onto the surface, trying to reach me.

"Please." I look away, grabbing handfuls of my hair, trying to will it away. "Please. Stop."

"Aspasia..."

His voice is like sandpaper, but I react to it instantly. All fear gone, I stand up on my bed, getting as close to my father's face as I can. "What? What is it?" His face is so familiar to me, so foreign. Rugged, with a scar cutting its way through his eyebrow. His lips are chapped and they part, trying to form another word. But something is pulling him back, and he starts to disappear into the ceiling once again.

"No!" I try to grab onto him, but my hands slip through his silvery form. Soon, he's gone, and I'm left staring at the ceiling. I fall back down onto the bed, disheartened. I look down, and my hands are glowing, fiercely.

Weird, I think as I dim them. Normally, I have to actually think about lighting my hands. The image of my father's face, so near, so scared, sends shivers down my spine. Looking like a ghost, like something dredged up from a nightmare. It's one of Chaos' tricks, I tell myself. It makes the most sense, and she's done it before. She's psyching me out. Which means she's planning something. I try to connect the dots, but there aren't enough dots to connect. I want to talk to someone: Jean, Charlie, Percy, Annabeth. Aaron. But I can't shake off the ill feeling surrounding me. I grab my pillow, lay down, hold it tight, and close my eyes. I don't sleep, I just pretend to not be here.

Sorry for the long wait, everyone. Ya know, musicals, finding jobs, passing classes, taking exams... Sheesh.