Dedicated to Chocoholic Minion, who guessed the correct order. (Hannah, Katrina, Drew, Janie, Jenna, Lacy, Piper)
"And get a boyfriend, Kitty. You need one of those. Remember, girls want to fall in love before they want intimacy, but boys need intimacy before they fall in love. But don't give too much away. They don't want to buy the cow if they can get the milk for free."
"Lauren—"
"Listen, Kitty, this is important. These are the things you'll need to know if you ever want to get a husband. You want to look popular. Guys want what they can't have. That's how I got Oliver."
"Lauren, I'm pregnant."
"Well. I always thought you were a bit young for this one, but this is one of the best ways to catch a husband. My friend Penny—you know Penny—she got pregnant by a Kennedy. Married two years last August. Summer homes in Newport, Kitty. Newport. I know you were smart enough to get pregnant by a rich, eligible, bachelor, right?"
"The father is Dionysus."
"Kitty!"
"Do you want me to apologize for it? Because I'm not going to. I like having sex. There is nothing wrong with liking to have sex. I enjoy having sex with lots of men. I'm safe about it, I'm not stupid. I don't care if I never marry a man with a summer home in Newport, Lauren. That's your dream, not mine. And I no longer care what you think. I haven't in years."
"Kitty, really? Don't be like this."
"You know what? I thought you'd be supportive. I thought you'd say, "My god, Katrina, I'm so sorry that your child will forever be an outcast who can't leave Camp Half-Blood! The trial you went through about whether or not you'd get smote must have sucked! And how you'll never ever get to see your daughter, hold her, braid her hair, anything? That must be torture!" That's what you should be saying, Lauren. And if you can't say that, then I can't talk to you anymore."
"I'd hope to God you're not braiding your daughter's hair. To be perfectly honest, Kitty, you're terrible at it. Not that that's bad. You don't have the face for braids, anyway."
"Lauren, I'm being serious."
"So am I, Kitty. Stick to a nice bun or a chignon. About the rest of it—Kitty, how am I supposed to console you if you won't tell me anything? I'm your sister, Kitty."
"Every time I try to talk to you, you tell me that I'm a whore and I should be dating more."
"Kitty, Mom and Dad didn't pass on marketable skills to us. Being pretty isn't enough these days. I want you to be safe, warm, and comfortable. I want you to be taken care of, Kitty. I'm your sister; is that wrong?"
"Don't you want me to be happy?"
"I thought you would be happy this way."
"I can take care of myself."
"I'm sure you can, Kitty. But minimum wage jobs at gas stations don't buy Jimmy Choos."
"I'll do—something. I don't know. I don't need Choos to be happy. God, why are you never supportive?"
"What do you want me to say, Kitty? I can't fix this for you. I swore on my eighteenth birthday that I would never enter that godforsaken camp again. I told you, Kitty, I'm doing my damnedest to forget I ever was a demigod, that Mom's a goddess, everything. Maybe you'd be happier this way, too."
"I can't."
"There's your answer, then. How can I support something I've spent my life avoiding?"
"Goodbye, Lauren."
"Bye, Kitty."
