Chapter 3: In which Malcolm uses his social skills (Part 1/5)
AN: To the sweet, lovely Violet2971, I'm safe and sound. I really, really hope you are, too.
I hope all of you are doing well. Here's a little more for you.
This is the shortest update yet, but, hey, it's done. A slightly longer part is almost finished. The whole of chapter 3 is actually probably too long. Chapters 1 and 2 = something like 18k words total. Chapter 3 = 12k maybe. But that means there's more coming!—and a lot to edit (and partially cut down). I really want to finish this chapter before 2021. Let's see how that goes.
Also, I don't know for how long this was going on, but I accidentally turned the text of chapter 2, part 2 into chapter 2, part 1! So sorry! My bad.
Sitting on the big secret for the rest of Sunday was an absolute pain. But the Athenians' knowing grins and bursts of laughter could at least be excused away as prideful triumph. They only needed to hold it in until Monday morning.
At the "Athena" table in the dining pavilion, Annabeth and Percy—both ringless for now—gathered round their usuals for breakfast. Grover, Piper, Hazel, Frank, and Rachel had filed in. They were just waiting for Nico, who had probably been busy smooching Will, and for Leo, who had probably spent another night breaking curfew in the Cabin Nine bunker.
In the meantime, Malcolm cut up some basil while Annabeth salted and Percy peppered a mound of smashed avocado, letting Alicia dash in some lemon juice before their siblings spread the avocado on a dozen toasts.
"Gooood morning, peeps!" Leo exclaimed, leaning on Malcolm's shoulder to squeeze in between him and Grover.
"Leo, I'm holding a knife," Malcolm said.
"My bad." Then Leo groaned long and loud. "I am so sore."
That's what he said.
"Did you remember to stretch?" said Annabeth.
Leo shut up. Malcolm sent him a look and sighed, proceeding to place pan-seared cherry tomatoes on top of the avo-ed toast.
"When will he learn?" Annabeth asked her brother.
Beside her, Alicia giggled in her glass of orange juice.
"Careful not to choke," Percy warned delicately.
Leo reached for a sandwich. Annabeth swatted away his hand.
"These are taken," she said. "And those are for Athena and Poseidon."
With that, she and Percy left momentarily to make the sacrifices on their and Cabin Six's behalf.
Malcolm took two-fifths off his triple decker. "Here. Munch on this," he said. "You can make me another."
Leo turned to him. "Have I ever told you you make the best avo toast?"
"Better replicate it then. And don't forget the basil," Malcolm said.
Leo, of course, had to take it upon himself to construct a quadruple decker. For efficiency's sake, Malcolm lent a hand.
"So, why are we gathered here today?" Leo asked.
Immediately, Malcolm took a big bite of toast. Around him, his siblings either pretended not to hear or invested more attention to their breakfast and intra-cabin conversations. Malcolm chewed slowly, denying his urge to satisfy his grumbling belly from his morning run.
"Yeah, why are we here?" said Rachel.
"Mm…" Malcolm bobbled his head. He chewed even slower.
Thankfully, Annabeth and Percy returned soon enough, accompanied by Will and Nico (who was still raising complaints about yesterday's game).
Malcolm occupied himself with his breakfast, taking smaller and smaller bites. Trepidation and anxiety bloomed within him as Annabeth began to speak.
He watched the leftover betrayal and pride morph into and surprise and elation and then into confusion and betrayal yet again, and soon enough—
"SHUT THE FRONT DOOR!" Leo bellowed, just decibels away from deafening Malcolm's left ear.
Malcolm flinched violently to his right, bonking his skull onto Claire's. Both siblings yelped and clutched their heads.
"Indoor voice, Leo!" Malcolm gritted. "Holy Hades."
Leo laid a kiss on his own fingers and covered both Malcolm's ears before facing Annabeth and Percy once more. "Why didn't I know this was a thing?" came Leo's muffled bellow.
"Well, w—" Annabeth began.
"You?" Rachel screeched at Leo from across the table. "Forget you! How did I not see this?" Her shoulders slumped at the pace she lips formed a pout. "I lost my bet, you guys."
And so had everyone else, who, across the pavilion, responded in too much clamor and confusion, leaving Chiron to immediately issue an informal PSA on the dangers of gambling. Since the bettors had brought it upon themselves, all losses, the centaur suggested, could be surrendered to Ásylo, an Atlantian marine conservancy organization, whose local branch was run by none other than Percy himself.
Rachel was consoled by one thing, however: "Let it be known," she declared, complete with pointer in the air, "that I am the only person who has ever dumped this no-longer-eligible bachelor."
"You and Percy never dated, Rachel," Conrad reminded her, earning him thanks from said no-longer-eligible bachelor.
Rachel waved a hand. "Pfft. What does that matter? I still dumped him," she said.
"You kissed him, too," Annabeth added.
"Oh, yeah. I forget about that," Rachel said with a faraway gaze.
"That bad, huh?" Annabeth said.
Oof, Malcolm thought, even as he snickered.
Percy shot Annabeth a look. "Why are you in on this?"
The ladies ignored him. "He pretty much just stood there," Rachel complained. "That was it."
"I know what you mean," Annabeth said. "It was the exact same in Mount St. Helens. Like, kiss me back, Seaweed Brain." Ultimately, guilt overpowered humor, and Annabeth reached for his cheek. "I love you." Their lips met again.
Of course. There had to be a gazillion more public mouth-sucking episodes. Malcolm glanced away momentarily, deciding instead to face the simmering son of Hephaestus beside him.
"Let it go," Malcolm said. "I didn't know either, 'kay?"
"But they basically li—"
"Yeah."
"But—"
"Zip it. They can do whatever they want."
Leo's tense muscles eased as he sighed. "Then for all we know now, he could've already knocked her up," he muttered.
Annabeth's mouth flew open. "Are you going to test that theory again, Valdez?"
Percy was on the verge of laughter. "Are you gonna bet on that, too?"
Leo sulked. He threw an arm around Malcolm's shoulders and pulled himself close enough for Malcolm to detect his cinnamon-flavored chapstick. "You wouldn't lie to me," Leo said.
"Why would I lie to you?" Malcolm responded.
Leo shook his head at Annabeth and Percy. Malcolm just knew his sister was holding back an eye roll. Give Leo half a day. There was a high chance he'd be the most obnoxiously gleeful of the bunch.
Frank and Hazel, of course, elatedly gave standard (read: socially acceptable) responses. Grover, meanwhile, was still caught up in his bout of tears. He could barely find the words.
"Finally! Finally!" was all the satyr could manage.
"We want you to be our officiant," Annabeth told him.
"What?" Grover croaked, his near sobs drowned out her voice.
"Can you be the one to marry us?" Percy said.
The crying only intensified. "You guys! You guys!" Grover half-trotted towards the couple and buried in a bone-crushing hug.
Piper actually squealed. "Mom is going to be so happy."
"Uncle Leo, did you find out what was wrong with the engine?" Alicia looked up at him on their way from the pavilion to the Cabin Nine bunker.
By now, Leo had actually stopped pouting and had already been brainstorming congratulatory presents for the couple. And Malcolm remembered once more that Leo's monkey business was, in large part, performed purely for his friends' entertainment.
"I was thinking you could help me figure that out, Allie Ballie. And next time, we can show your big brother how to assemb—" Leo faltered. "Uh. Hah. Uh."
Malcolm turned to the source of Leo's dreamy gaze and had his words knocked out of him. Cortisol levels spiked at the sight of a damn good looker clothed in black jeans and a T-shirt under a zippered blazer. Entranced with shiny waves of obsidian, Malcolm wondered how on earth she'd made it through Camp Half-Blood's boundaries.
How'd she managed to get even prettier was another question. It didn't seem to be the understated albeit perfect makeup. Yet there was also something totally off. Gone were her determined eyes—typically too busy for anyone and anything outside her focus. For some reason, she was… crying? And fanning her face? With… a roll of paper streamers?
"My babies are getting married!" Aphrodite's voice carried across the outdoor deck of the dining hall. "Oh! I've never been so happy!"
Malcolm shook his brain out of its daze and tried not to be disappointed by what had so obviously been an illusion from the get-go. Texting was a thing anyway, and it was always a delight to see the literally—and truly, literally—stunning goddess of love and beauty.
Aphrodite's features then shifted from one Rihanna look to another. He was embarrassed and guilty to have seen a former instructor—so much so that it was a relief to see a co-leader in battle and a friend of friends. At least it made sense to see some resemblance of Reyna (no matter the impossibility).
"Remind me again who she looks like to you," said Leo, situating Malcolm in his present setting.
"Wouldn't you like to know?" Malcolm said.
"Man, you know that's not an answer."
"Allie, what are we going to work on today aside from the engine?" Malcolm asked.
Alicia, too, glanced away from Aphrodite. "Can we fix the sound engineering of the, ähm, you know when the door closes and it sounds cushy?"
"Yeah, we can do that," Malcolm said. "Do you have any ideas on how we can get a cushier sound?"
As Alicia discussed techniques, Leo tsked, tsked, tsked beside him. Malcolm tried his best to ignore him and congratulated himself on reining in any flushes. Leo could probably guess correctly anyway—not that that would change anything.
Malcolm himself wondered what if his friend still saw a certain someone. Did she, say, have light-brown hair? It annoyed him and he knew it. But, oh well. One couldn't help who one was attracted to.
Malcolm took one last look at Aphrodite. True enough, in spite of Aphrodite's audible wails, he spotted a hint of mischief. He knew he'd be gazing into dark-brown eyes had they not faced the other direction. He kept looking. Aphrodite's elfish, slender figure gained muscle. Short, curly dark hair became a glossier black. The plain t-shirt turned into a purple toga. But no. Not yet.
Forcing himself through a self-inflicted slight pang, Malcolm willed himself to see someone else. Forest green v-neck on dark skin. Sleek and ponytailed. Thick-browed, jaw set certitude. She appeared in glances, but the image Aphrodite offered was never quite right.
Or had he already forgotten?
Nah, he couldn't have.
Before Aphrodite morphed again, Malcolm turned away from half-empty promises of co-authorships and a someday.
As Aphrodite's attendants rushed to hand her a handkerchief, Malcolm directed his full attention to Alicia and led them away.
Leo followed, and Malcolm thanked the Fates that the goddess of love was preoccupied with more pressing matters to have the capacity to mess with the love lives of other residents of Camp Half-Blood.
"How's my makeup?" Malcolm heard Aphrodite ask those around her. "Is my mascara running? No? Oh, thank the gods for waterproof makeup. Oh wait. I invented it. Oh, I must've known this moment would come. This must be the best day of my life." She continued chattering about "the greatest love story that ever was" and how "not even Helen and Paris compare."
"I heard that Annabeth's first words to him were 'He's the one. He must be,'" said the new campers, all gaspy and giggly as the older demigods regaled them with stories of Percy and Annabeth.
Nearby, Piper eagerly expressed that seeing their relationship helped her change the Aphrodite cabin's rite of passage from breaking someone's heart—
Ew.
—to *ahem*... "making someone's heart whole."
Oh, what bullshit.
