Chapter 2

My immune system hates me.

I'm sick. Working at the hospital has finally taken it's toll on me. It's a beautiful June Saturday, and I'm stuck in doors lying on the couch and watching stupid daytime television. I'm not alone at home, though. Apollo doesn't have class until Tuesday, and Aemelia is moping around about her new boyfriend.

"Move your feet," Apollo says as he walks into the den. I move my feet and he collapses on the couch. "I'm bored."

"I'm sick."

"Guess what I found."

"Don't care. I'm trying to watch... something."

"My video camera," he shoves the camera in my face. I roll my eyes.

"Oh god. I thought you stopped the camera thing for good."

"Nope. I decided to call the guys and they should be over within the hour," he starts pressing buttons on his camera and points it at me. I scowl and cover the lens with my hand.

"You're stupid. I'm sick, remember?"

"I know. And don't worry, your mom is cool with it," he gently pushes me off the couch and I land on the floor. There is no way I'm getting out of this.

"Fine. I'll take something." I stumble into the kitchen to take some cold medicine, which, may I add, is the most god damned revolting shit on this planet. Seriously. If you've ever tasted cherry cold medicine, you know what I'm talking about.

Apollo's friends arrive at about eleven o'clock. I'm lying on the couch because I still feel like shit. Of course, the group consists of Caius, Ceres, Priam, Caliban, and two other guys named Rian and Isareal. The boys gather on the floor around me and talk about stuff like sports. I'm totally zoned out until someone mentions the words "lamb stew."

"What about lamb stew?" I say. They all give me strange looks.

"You really are sick, Hera," Priam says, "We were talking about Ghram's tattoo place on Second Street. You know, Isareal's older brother?" Yes, I know, and he's a douchebag. "So anyway, Cal and I were thinking about getting another one on our chest, like right here," he gestures to the area over his heart.

"Of what?" Rian asks him.

"There's a quote that we both really like... No one should negotiate their dreams. Dreams must be free to fly high-" Priam starts.

"No government, no legislature, has a right to limit your dreams. You should never agree to surrender your dreams." Caliban finishes the sentence for him. They do that a lot. Priam glares at him.

"Who's that by?" I ask them.

"I don't really know. It was in a book that we found," Priam stretches out on the floor. Apollo pokes the bottom of my foot an I curl up in my blanket. I am in no mood to be messed with right now. Apollo pokes me again. I kick the back of his head gently.

"How has working at the hospital been?" Caliban asks me. I shrug and pull the blanket around my neck.

"It's been horrible. Seriously. My interns are the stupidest people that I've ever met." That makes the group laugh, "I'm being totally serious. I was telling a pediatric patient about the story of Sisyphus and one of them asked me, in front of the patient, if it was an STD. Then, I had to explain to a seven year old boy what a sexually transmitted disease is. I should have had the intern do it. God I hate them."

"Wow. I'm glad I'm not your interns. They sound like hell." Rian says to me. He's working under his dad as a medical assistant, "So what are you in right now? Internal medicine?" I nod, "How's that?"

"I just told you. It's hell." That make the group laugh again. I guess I'm funny when I'm sick. "I dunno. I friggin' hate internal medicine. I want to change over to alternative."

"Is that like, plants and stuff?" Isareal asks me.

"Yeah. My dad's not going to be happy about it. I've been taking over most of his patients when he's too swamped to take care of them..." Aemelia enters the room with a tray of chicken and I trail off. It's no point. I've totally lost the boys to the power of Aemelia's chicken. The only thing better than her chicken is the lamb stew that everyone seems to be obsessed with.

"My sister bought 'Katniss colored' eye shadow," Isareal laments to the rest of us. I guess I'm not the only one who thinks rapidly.

"What the hell is 'Katniss colored'?" Rian says, picking up a piece of chicken.

"I'm guessing it's some sort of green and gold mix. Maybe dark grey," I say, stealing the chicken out of his hands. He glares at me and picks up another piece.

"This has always been the biggest problem with the Hunger Games. They're way too commercialized. Posters, jewelry, friggin' makeup," Caius shakes his head.

"Oh come on. It's not that bad," one of the other guys says, "It's not like they're selling action figures like they did with Finnick."

We spend most of the rest of the afternoon eating and talking about nothing in particular. These people have the weirdest interest in my magickal abilities.

Annie and took a short vacation over the weekend. Hope it was good for you too!
has been giving me hell lately, sorry if my posts are late this week..

-Johanna