Maybe

It went terribly. How do you look someone you hate in the eye, and discuss your wedding plans? Especially when their being crazy, wanting everything you don't want, and not giving a damn about what you feel? I was so mad, I could feel my skin itching, demanding that I burst into flames. I got through that evening by going through list after list in my head – different tools, different metals, there qualities and uses and who knows what else. Her voice grated on my brain and I fought her for everything, because I sure as hell wasn't going to wear hot pink roses without a fight. We had totally nixed trying to live together. I'd smother her in her sleep anyway so it was for the best.

When we finally got back to the cabin, I just collapsed on my bed and pressed a few buttons. It automatically began lowering me down to one of the basement floors that had been designed years ago, a non-formal conference room of sorts. It was a round table, like in a dinning room, except as you went down your bed converted to a plush arm chair. I went here because it was both a good place to think and barely anyone had the right to come here – only Nyssa, Jake and I had the button that took you here.

It was perfect for someone who wanted to think through a major problem, like being forced to marry someone you didn't trust. So of course Nazzy was here too.

"Raiding the fridge are we?" Damn, I'd been planning to do that. She jumped so high, her hair spinning round her face when she spun round in shock that it made up for it – she really looked like a child sneaking food, a box of crackers and a fruit juice cradled in her arms.

"Shut up. What are you doing here?" She slumped back onto her chair and began tearing at the box with her nails. Incredible, wasn't it, how you could be fully able to build a rocket or take down a hydra, but that damn box always took five hours to open.

"Same thing as you, I suspect. Wallowing in self-pity and denial, though Nico can't be half as bad as Drew. He hasn't tried anything, has he?" Just being the responsible, reliable big brother here. I grabbed a can of coke and a bag of chips and relaxed into my chair. Even when being forced to marry a hag in heels, the comfort of a soft armchair complete with fluffy, totally manly, blankets should never be underestimated.

She snorts and takes a swig of juice. I never would understand why she ate so healthy, but she said it was just default for her. She shoots my junk food a dirty look, because apparently it makes her feel sick. I just roll my eyes at her and lift one of my eyebrows, still waiting for an answer.

"Fine, if you want the details of your sister's married life. He's tried nothing, absolutely nothing, and the chances are he never will. Or at least I hope not. But I don't, all at the same time. He's funny and charismatic, in his own crazy way, and I like him. But of course I don't like him, or maybe I do, but not enough to marry him." A bit more emotional than I'd wanted, but somehow, it didn't bother me. I looked into her eyes and knew we had somehow come to an understanding. We were in the same boat. We were siblings, and we needed someone to lean on, someone who got it – we could lean on each other.

"You know, I don't think Nico is that bad a guy. I know you've never been fond of him, but Percy likes him, and I think we can trust him. I'm not saying I'm glad you're being forced to marry him –"

"But it's better than the male equivalent of Drew? You're right, I guess. But I can't help thinking that if it wasn't for how we're 'compatible' I wouldn't be in this mess. Anyway, how'd it go with you, I saw you looking like you wanted to smoke your girl?"

Your girl? Nice choice of words, Nazzy.

"Don't even ask about it. Whatever your idea of terrible, disastrous and I'm glad I'm not that couple is - that is what we were. I hope never to get out of my bed again." She snorts, and drains the rest of her juice. Something in my face must have told her not to say anything, because she nodded once and pressed a button, allowing her bed to take her back up to the ground level. I wonder idly how much sleep she will get tonight.

I swig on my coke, not rushing it. I didn't want to go up and face the loud silence, where Nyssa and I would lie awake, pretending to sleep, surrounded by eighteen of our siblings who couldn't possibly understand what this is like. There was a line drawn in the sand now, the differences between us and them, and I suddenly realized I'd need to pick a new Head Counselor – this law was taking everything from me.

Sighing, I crumpled the coke can and lobbed it into the bin, along with my chips – they both missed, but that didn't matter, because a metal claw shot out and plucked them from the air, chucked them in the bin and incinerated them. Sometimes, I was just too cool. Jabbing a button, I perched on my bed as it unfolded. I almost reached for my design pad to sketch a better mechanism, because this was seriously uncomfortable, but pulled my hand back. Now wasn't the time.

I couldn't really tell you how I got to the beach. My head was full of contraptions, designs, tools. Things seemed to build themselves in my mind, everything from a 120ft boat, which could transport the entire camp but fold down into a simple, drivable van, to an electric pencil sharpener that could incinerate ashes. I liked incinerating things. I was walking around, my coat tugged up around my neck for warm when I heard voices – flirtatious laughter – coming from a hidden dip in the sand.

I should have turned round right then. Left, walked away, went back to Nazzy and my warm bed. But I had a sneaky suspicion on what kind of girl would have a midnight picnic on a beach, and I had to know that sort of thing. Slowly, I inched forward, walking round so I could see without being seen.

Drew. Of course it was Drew. She looked beautiful, her dark hair sweeping across her face as she pouted. She was holding the hand of some guy I didn't recognize, kissing his fingertips. A slow smile was spreading across her face, her pink lips curving up, and the guy – personally, I was amazed he was still conscious. Another five minutes and he'd probably wouldn't be breathing, but that was his problem. He chose Drew and there was no way I was going to interrupt.

Because if I interrupted, that was pretty much me saying I cared. That I was laying claim to her, that I wanted her with me or at least that I was admitting we were getting married. And there was no way I was doing that. Nope – I was so staying out of this fight.

But . . . . I'd been that guy. With Bella, lazing around on a beach, trailing my hands through her hair, so damn happy about it all – how could I just stand here and watch some dumb, helpless baboon get his heart trampled on? It had been me once. And I knew how I felt when I looked back on it, all those people who had just walked past and let Bella play with me like a toy.

"Oy. You really don't want to do that, you know." Ok, not my most subtle line. They both jumped and whirled round to face me. My hands clenched into fists and I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment. In the name of Zeus and all things holy I did not want to do this. I strode out towards them, watching the shock and then anger and maybe even shame dance in Drew's eyes. The boy seemed stuck on bewildered surprise, as though he was just waking from a dream and didn't know where he was.

"Scram, whoever you are. You don't want to get involved with this girl. She'll rip you into shreds." The boy gave me a single, terrified look before hastily pulling his hand from Drew's and scuffling up. I spent most of my time crouched over a workbench or joking with my siblings and friends – I didn't try to be intimidating much, but when I did, I knew I could be downright scary. I wasn't incredibly tall, 5ft 9 inches, but I stood on higher ground. Oh, and small flames danced in my clenched fists, and flickering across my torso, giving me the whole tough-guy-about-to-burst-into-flames angle, something I really loved.

"George, hun, you don't need to go." Drew simpered, giving the guy puppy dog eyes. She was charm speaking, and for a second he hesitated, before stuttering something and stumbling away as fast as he could. Hmm. Love drunk wasn't just a phrase – when you deal with Drew and her cronies, it's a serious danger.

She turned her beautiful eyes on me, but she didn't smile and act like she was draped in sugar. No, the look she gave me was pure malice and annoyance - of course she didn't love or even particularly like 'George', where would the fun in that be, but she was still angry. She was like a little child in the playground, put out that another kid had taken her toy away. Spoiled brat.

"I don't see why you had to do that." She said, sounding hurt. I flopped down beside her, and she immediately pulled away, shuffling to the furthest side of the blanket. Everything stank of romantic perfume, and I pulled a face, trying not to sneeze. I sighed instead, because sometimes I wondered if she even understood the pain she caused. Maybe she was just a child after all.

"Drew, you can't just run around doing that. It's not right. How would you like it if I went around fucking whoever I wanted? Because pretty soon, people are going to be looking to me to control you. And our lives are going to be messed up enough without us constantly arguing."

She scowls, but I can tell what I've said has at least partly hit home. What she says next surprises me, though.

"I wish we knew what the limits are. You know, for how much we can cheat on each other."

I was shocked, and it must have showed on my face, because she raises a delicate eyebrow at me in confusion.

"So what, you're not going to try at all? Ever?" It comes out sort of strangled, but she just looks even more confused, as though she's watching someone frantically search for something right in front of them.

"Well, no. I already told you that. In the rec room, remember?" Wonderful, now she's looking at me like I'm simple.

"Yeah but I thought you were joking. Just saying it because people were watching." Afterall, who could be that mean?

She laughed, a sort of half manic laugh, and I was reminded of a movie I watched – where the heroine killed the bad guys, only to realize that the bad guys were actually the good guys and she's the bad one, and now the world was going to end. It wasn't a very good movie, but that's what she looked like – like nothing mattered any more, everything important was dead.

"Oh no Leo, why would I ever do things just for show?" Now it's my turn to look at her like she's simple, and for a second, neither of us moves, before she suddenly realizes what she said. I can't help but laugh, because she's been caught up in her own game. And even more surprisingly, she laughs with me, and her voice isn't laced with poison like it normally is. The laughter stops as suddenly as it started, and for a moment we look at each other – her hair coming loose from the invisible clips that held it up, my jacket probably covered in oil, as always.

And then we laugh some more, not because there's something really funny, but because we are so, so different. With the others you can say that they at least have something in common – Piper and Will are both good to the core people, Percy and Thalia both have the same bravery, Annabeth and Luke share a fatal flaw. But us – we are as different as possible for two people to be.

I don't want to end up like my dad – always mooning over my wife, turning away from the world to my work when she deserts me for someone better. And I'm starting to realize that she doesn't want to be like her mum – tied to a man she doesn't love, turning to man after man that she prefers but never able to fully love them, because she can never escape her husband. I could fall in love with Drew, any one could fall in love with Drew, but she can never fall in love with me.

All we can ever do is laugh, which of course is so sobering that I stop immediately.

"Leo?" And there is concern in her voice, not love, never love, but concern. Friendly concern, and it brings me back to another time, when I knocked on the Aphrodite cabin door and talked to Lacy. Maybe Drew wasn't all evil, just another messed up kid doing what she's expected to do and rebelling when she's forced to do something.

"I'm not asking you to be devoted to me, or even to try, but will you think of me?" I blurt out. Dam the AHDA, because she's looking at me now, and I need to finish it. "Will you think of me, when you're out doing something?"

She hesitates. Like me, she does not want to give in. But like me, she does what she has to.

"Yes."