Kate,
It was hard to sleep though the morning when your room is technically outdoors. I tried to maintain sleep by blocking out the light through the thick blankets and oak leaves canopy. But it became too much strain, and I found myself getting annoyed and letting out a tired groan as I decided to finally get off my butt and wake up.
I got out of bed, shielded my eyes from the sunlight, and I fumbled around until I got used to the light. I took a quick shower, which still felt uncomfortable when the bathroom was kind of in the middle of a random field. The summer heat had set in, and I began to address accordingly.
When I was dressed, I wasn't exactly sure where to go or what to do.
So, I found myself lying on my back and staring at the way the sun peaked through the canopy above me. I was thinking of my dream of Noah the night before, wondering if I would ever get over him or end up staring at bed canopies to think about him forever.
I wasn't sure what was the best outcome would have been anyway. Did I honestly want to be over him? I knew I wanted the relief that came from getting ready of these frustrations, the pain, and the annoyance of it all. But did I honestly want to let Noah go?
Not did I want to stop paying the price for my love but did I want to get rid of the love.
I honestly wasn't sure. While it did cause me pain, our time together was still this little bliss that only Noah could give me. No one, though I had often wished for it, had ever been able to compare to that happiness. I always thought it was because he knew me better than anyone in the entire world (even my big brother, Sam), but it was really because of how much I loved him.
It wasn't a crush. A crush was what I felt for Justin Riley, the super-hot school tennis star who was two years older than me, in ninth grade. It was the blush at his smile, constant thinking of him but never of a real future, occasional flirting, and the ability to move on to the next super-hot guy after he started dating a girl his age named Abby.
This was full-fledged love, the kind that I had read a million books and seen a million movies about. Love was what I felt for Noah, my best friend in the entire world since I was about four. It was the constant thinking about him until a point where it became part of everything I did, the desperate need to be around him at all times, the inability to flirt in fear of rejection that I could never be able to take the pain of, and the inability to move on as I watched him go from girl to girl over his lifetime. It was the fact that I would always be comparing whatever guy I thought could be a real contender to the amazing Noah Jackson, and it was the fact that I knew no one would ever live up to that expectation.
By the time I was out of thought, the sun was a bit higher and told me that everyone would be up by now. I decided to wander and let my mind think of art instead.
Through my aimless walk, I found myself in the dining room, where Weslin was just sitting down and ruffling her hair. Azul was sitting at the head at the table, completely awake and comfortable. Charlie looked tired, telling me that she also hadn't been able to sleep. Sam was not up, and I didn't expect him to be very soon either. Chester, who I learned did not like mornings, was not there, nor was Aiden. But Noah was there. And the empty seat was beside him.
I took it and wondered if we were still not speaking. Yesterday morning, we would speak under no circumstances. Something happened in Vegas, and I didn't know what, which made things worse.
I think we were now on good terms, but I didn't risk it much with a lot of talking.
"How did you all sleep?" Azul asked.
"Pretty well, thank you," Noah answered for us, which was pretty good since I could tell that both Charlie and I had not slept very well.
"Very good, very good," Azul smiled, nodding, "I did as well. I woke up at five and went for an amazing hike. Really got in touch with nature."
Just hearing about "getting in touch with nature" made me want a nap.
"Dad loves hiking," Weslin didn't seem nearly as excited about him as he did, but she was much more excited than me.
Weslin's gaze was quickly ripped away from us to someone entering through the door, and her eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. I looked back to see what had caused this change, and I smiled to myself.
Aiden was coming through the door, looking completely rested and I will admit pretty darn adorable. He was wearing a sweatshirt with Charleston written in bulk letters, a pair of khaki shorts, and converse. His tattoos weren't visible, and Swift had made an effort to hide them as well. Swift was behind him, looking exhausted and in desperate need of coffee.
It was still shocking to look at the two of them and know that they were siblings when they seemed complete polar opposites.
Aiden walked towards the table and did pretty much the cutest thing I had ever seen him do.
"Mind if I sit here?" Aiden smiled to Weslin, who filled with such joy I wasn't sure she had ever smiled that wide.
"Sure," she nodded fast.
Aiden sat down beside her with Swift beside him, smiling at her baby brother.
Even Noah smiled at it, and Charlie definitely did.
Aiden was a good kid. A really good kid.
I had to admit that I was pretty happy that Charlie liked him, not that I was forcing him on her or anything. I wanted her to find a nice guy like that.
"Will Sam be joining us?" Azul asked, and I shook my head, almost laughing.
"Sam isn't much of a morning person," I told him.
Noah tried not to snicker.
Sam hated mornings more than anyone in the entire world that I had ever met. I'm pretty sure it was all he could do not to track down Apollo and slit his throat for creating them in the first place.
"Well then, let's get started."
Azul clapped, and painted servant appeared from a door and began bringing in a large and appetizing breakfast. They left a feast on the table and left us as quickly as they came. Azul pressed a button, and a part of the table retracted to show a fire pit that flames quickly sprang out from. We all threw in food, and the fire kept going as we all reached for our breakfast.
There was simple conversation going on between us all.
I was talking to Swift. Noah was talking to Charlie. Aiden and Azul were talking to Weslin.
Things were pretty easy. We didn't talk about the painting, but Azul did ask us all about our quest. The rest of breakfast was spent on that subject. We talked about how it began (the rock-man trying to kidnap Charlie at camp), our first stop (Charleston), and picking up Aiden at our first stop. Then we told him everything that came afterwards (the movie I had to be in to steal the necklace for Hera, the night in Birmingham, and everything else that had happened to us since we left New York).
It was pretty entertaining, I will admit. It was especially entertaining to little Weslin, who of course was even more interested when it came to the parts involving her beloved Aiden.
We were all finishing our grand breakfast by the time we got to the end of our story, and the fire was being extinguished in the middle of the table as we were all beginning to stand.
"Weslin, why don't you show Swift and Aiden to the living room? I need to talk to Kate, Noah, and Charlie for just a moment."
Aiden was perfectly fine with the idea, and Weslin was truly excited. Swift looked pissed that she was being shown to the Kid-Room while "grown up talking" was happening with someone younger than her by about six years.
Swift had her arms crossed, pouting like a ten year old, and Weslin wrapped her hand around Aiden's as she lead the two siblings into the living room.
Azul took us down a different hall, and I expected to see him take us into the big and amazing hall full of a million different kinds of art. But he didn't take us there, he took us to a smaller room.
When we got inside, there was nothing impressive. The floor was dark wood, beautiful but nothing to stare at. The walls were a darker but gentle hue of burgundy, and there was nothing special on the walls. There were no windows, just one light.
And there was a large canvas with a white sheet covering it.
Azul looks at it, his eyes watering, and his fingers wrapped around the sheet, squeezing so tightly it looked like he might just rip a hole in it.
I knew what it was before he even ripped off the sheet, and I really didn't even need to look at the painting to know that it would be his ex, the mother of his child, and his official biggest what-if. It was the goddess of beauty portrayed perfectly on a canvas.
Suddenly, I didn't see the handsome and talented artist who had a beautiful daughter, went hiking, and was spending eternity making and collecting some of the most amazing art in the entire world.
It was like looking at Percy as a child. He was a gorgeous, amazing, and perfect teacher who adored his son more than anything in the entire world, at least to the eye. In reality, he was a broken man who was in love with his ex-girlfriend who he had betrayed and broke her heart.
But I knew Azul wouldn't get his happy ending like Percy.
No, he might be happy one day. When Weslin was all grown. When he could hate Aphrodite and not play nice for his beloved Weslin.
"It's all yours, take it. I don't want it in my house anymore," Azul shook his head, "I want you to take it to her. You can have her, I don't want her. When you get there, she will probably send you off on another quest to lie to her husband so that she could stay with her lover. But he doesn't buy her lies, and I don't buy her lies about why she misses dates with our daughter. You'll need her support, so she's your problem now."
He looked back to us, and his eyes sweet.
"Thank you, Noah, for talking to Weslin. She needed that, she needs someone who understands. I don't really. I don't know what to say to her, you do. You have no idea what last night meant to me."
"She's an amazing kid," Noah nodded, his eyes almost watering, too.
Azul's eyes filled with vengeance.
"When you give her the painting, tell her about the sketchbook and how you were the only one she showed it to, how she wanted to give it to her mother. And give Aphrodite this," Azul handed a picture to Noah.
It almost broke to see.
Weslin looked beautiful. She wasn't in jeans and a tee shirt two sizes too big. She was in a pretty dress with pretty shoes and a pretty hairstyle. She was smiling as she blew out a candle, but you could see the sadness in her.
Her mother didn't come, I realized it at once.
As I looked at Noah, I saw some of the purest passion I had ever seen in him.
I had seen a picture like that, I had seen a few. JoJo had missed a lot of stuff, though she typically did try for birthdays. But, after moving to California and starting a new life there with a new husband and a new family, she missed a lot. She seemed as though she had regretted not spending time with her son, but she didn't know how to kick the habit. She was so used to putting everything else above her son that she didn't know to break it. I guess, at the end, she did make an effort, but it was too little too late.
I thought about the birthday's JoJo had missed.
His seventh. His eleventh. His sixteenth. And his seventeenth. Those were the ones I could clearly remember.
Standing here, I could hear it again. Sam and I always popped in early on his birthday mainly to enjoy Percy's amazing French toast, and that was when she would call. I could remember awkwardly sitting at the table on those birthdays, Annabeth sighing and taking care of Charlie, and Percy trying not to get angry as he worked on breakfast. I could hear his broken voice as he assured his mom that it was fine, that they could get together later. He would always crack a joke that she had been there for the birth and that was the important bit, but he didn't mean it.
I had always gotten sick watching as he tried to fake a smile, came in for breakfast acting like nothing had happened, and how we would always sneak off from Sam and everyone and get big ice creams with every available topping.
In his eyes, I could see that he remembered those days, and I could see that he hated that little Weslin had to feel them, too.
"I will," Noah nodded.
Charlie,
After breakfast, there was not much holding us to stay with Azul, but there was something that just made us want to stay. Azul, I guess sensing that we wanted to stay, allowed us all to enjoy painting in his master studio.
I was a horrible painter. Even as a child in art class, painting had never been my forte, and I didn't enjoy it much either. So, with Kate beside me, I just watched everyone else paint. Weslin was amazing, so amazing that I could barely take my eyes off of it. She was helping Aiden. Azul led them on, and Noah was doing pretty well. Chester was painting something entirely of dark colors (I wasn't paying attention to what), and Sam was struggling as he tried to impress Swift.
I noticed that Swift seemed to be more interested in Noah than Sam, at least at the moment. They were talking, and Kate was staring, her dagger eyes threatening to kill Swift. Honestly, Kate was beginning to scare me in some ways. She watched the two of them like a hawk, every slight moment between the two being picked up.
I wondered how on earth, when Kate and Noah were always so jealous of each other, they could ever not notice it. Even my oblivious father noticed it.
I kept trying to distract Kate from Swift and Noah, but she didn't budge.
"So, did you sleep well?" I had asked.
"Oh, yeah, uh, sure."
"Hot day, isn't it?"
"You should ask Sam."
"Weslin is so talented."
"Maybe later."
I gave up pretty fast on trying to talk to her, and I also gave up pretty fast on watching everyone else paint.
The painted servants tended to us all diligently. Just about every time I took a long sip, another servant would appear to fill up my soda, and the paint was continuously refilled for the painters, the brushes washed as soon as they were done with them, and new water given as soon as the old got too murky.
I felt so… useless. I couldn't talk to Kate. I couldn't help the painters. I couldn't even get my own stuff.
I was just sitting on a big, fluffy orange couch by the windows. We were in the paining room, and it was very different from the pristine rest of the house. The marble tile had gotten paint on it, and there were splatters on the wall from when Azul tried modern art. There were blank canvases galore, and there were many drying paintings everywhere you look.
It remained very clear to me that, though Azul loved all art, painting was truly his passion.
My passion was so far away from painting.
I loved the water. I loved sea creatures, especially those that weren't exactly supposed to exist. Every year, I looked forward to going to my grandfather's undersea castle, my typical Spring Break since I was about ten.
My brother's was soccer, I suppose. He always loved soccer so very much. Aside from that, I was pretty sure that British television (especially Doctor Who) had earned a pretty high place in his life, but family probably trumped it all. I knew without a doubt that, whenever he was done with soccer, family would be his life.
Sam loved soccer, and he was pretty business oriented as well. I wasn't sure he would take over the family business, which had branched out much farther than just architecture, but I knew he would be in business somehow.
Kate liked movies. She had a big thing for them, she was always watching them, always talking about them. She was already making screenplays, and I didn't know where that would take her. I just knew that she was talented, she had the right connections, and she was ambitious enough. She also loved family, and I could see her one day with her keyboard far away with her family.
But those "magic predicting abilities" that I thought I had were lost at that point. I could see nothing else.
And I didn't know where I would end up.
But, at the same time, I was so deathly afraid to know. I wasn't even sure what I wanted. I didn't know what to dream for, what to hope for, or even what to reach for.
This was the weird part for me. For the first time in my entire life, I was actually… thirteen. I was actually stuck between two guys. I was changing, I was hormonal, and I was confused.
My dad said that this happened to my mother. That her "genius just caught up to her, and she finally realized that she was still part human and still had to go through what everyone else did", and I guess I believed him. But I most certainly did not think it would happen to me.
And I really, really didn't like it.
"Beautiful," Azul took a step back, smiling happily at a painting on an easel.
He didn't take much time to admire it before turning back to us, and he walked over to us, plopping himself down on the couch beside us with a big smile. A servant immediately appeared, and a cup of steaming hot coffee with foam forming an A.
"How are you two?" Azul smiled, taking a long sip of his coffee. The foam A stayed intact.
"Fine, thank you," I smiled weakly.
"Uh, yeah, you're right," Kate said absently, her lips coming to her soda, and her eyes didn't leave Swift and Noah, accusing them with every move they made.
Azul looked at me.
I shrugged and motioned towards Swift and Noah.
He shrugged, probably wondering how it will be when his little girl turns out to be a crazy teenager like the rest of us.
"Well, Charlotte then, can I entice you to come and see my new undersea room? I think you might be a better critic than Weslin and me. We like hiking, mountains, hills. Sea isn't our forte like it is you."
I smiled and nodded, happy to get away, and I followed Azul through the doors into the winding halls.
I wonder how on earth he didn't get lost.
Knowing this place perfectly, Azul stopped, pushing open a door to yet another one of the many art rooms this man had.
It was something out of The Little Mermaid, and I was expecting to see a little redhead mermaid to start singing dramatically about love.
The room was higher than the ground, the floor being nonsexist, you just didn't fall as you stepped. There were fish above and below us, swimming about. And it was like the rest of the magical "scene" rooms. It was just a box of a real place.
Even the monsters were around.
"You know, Charlie, I once had a sister. I remember she was about your age when I left. She was quite a special young girl, I thought. And she was quite torn. Her promised husband had just fell through, and she didn't know what would become of her life."
I could tell that Azul was trying to give me a pep talk or something, but I could tell that he hadn't ever given a thirteen year old a "life lesson" story in a very, very long time if ever.
And I wasn't exactly sure how his little sister's lack of a fiancé at thirteen pertained to me, but I went with it.
"Now, I know that seems off topic given these times, but, what I mean is, thirteen year olds have been faced a future they can't see since the beginning of time. You needn't look so forlorn about it, Charlotte."
It had been so long since I was called by my full name that I had forgotten it really was mine.
I heard "Charlotte Lucia Jackson" quite a bit when people were mad at me. Jackson, I heard (mainly from annoyed camp counselors who expected more from the daughter of the Annabeth and Percy Jackson). Lucia, I heard (from Thalia who loved the honor given to Luke that I had his name). Charlie I heard all the time.
But Charlotte felt foreign.
"I know," I nodded, not sure what I could say.
"But that doesn't change anything, does it?" Azul smiled sympathetically, "You are just finding yourself! You don't know what you want, who you want, or even really who you are. You are still growing into yourself."
It was like a light bulb suddenly appeared over his head as I watched an idea form in his head.
"Maybe I can help!"
I looked at him suspiciously.
"Help?" I raised my eyebrows.
"Well, Noah helped my daughter. Maybe I can return the favor by helping you."
I watched him carefully.
"How?"
He seemed stumped.
"Well… talking. You could tell me everything, get an expert opinion. I have lived a very long time, and I have been in many relationships, even with the goddess of love. I can help you with boy trouble," Azul motioned for two seats made out of coral, and I reluctantly took the chair.
We sat awkwardly staring at each other.
"Well," Azul began nervously, "Aiden is quite a good young fellow. He seems to like you very much."
Yes, he did, I suppose.
And that was the problem.
How could someone be so perfect? It felt too good to be true, and I had been taught not to trust "too good to be true" because it typically wasn't true.
I didn't say anything.
"Chester is a handsome young lad. Very interesting."
Nothing still.
"This wasn't a very good idea," Azul frowned.
"No, no, it is very sweet. But I guess you just can't fix it. Thank you so much for trying, though. You said it, you just have to get older."
I smiled, and, for the first time, I really believed it.
"You are a very smart young lady, Charlotte."
"Call me Charlie."
Kate,
After breakfast, painting, and then lunch, we finally did set off.
Weslin looked like she might cry when she hugged Noah off, and I thought she was going to crawl into a hole in die when Aiden began to get in the car. For good measure, Aiden set her off with a goodbye kiss on the cheek to keep her from jumping off a cliff.
With a big painting, we had to split between Swift's car and the Jeep.
For the first time I was pretty sure ever, Sam ditched and denied the Jeep. He got in the car with Swift and Aiden, never even looking back to his only constant love in his life, his car.
I thought Noah's eyes would bug out of his head as we watched Sam willingly walk away from the Jeep.
He had it bad, I realized. Worse than he had for any other girl I had ever seen him around. No girl had ever been able to compete with the Jeep. Sometimes, I was pretty sure that he would let me fall off a cliff if it came to the car going off the cliff or me.
I don't think I was ever so thankful to get Swift and Noah apart.
I liked Swift. I think we could have been friends really.
But I sure as Hades did not like her flirting with Noah.
It was like a tragic explosion, you know to duck and cover. But you watch in awe like an idiot, the debris prepared to assault you in punishment for your moment of stupidity.
I just couldn't look away. I couldn't focus on anything else. I couldn't even form intelligent thought.
I could only stare.
Suddenly, that nervous space between Noah and me that I had been trying to preserve in fear of Noah retreating if I didn't disappeared like it had never existed. I was in the front seat beside him, getting as physically close to him as I possibly could without alerting Charlie, being weird, blushing, or actually… touching him.
But I had failed on the alerting Charlie mark.
She was staring, the look in her eyes matched with a smirk on her lips that I refused to turn around and see.
Chester was going back to sleep. He had said that he couldn't get any sleep in his room, and he passed out as soon as we got in the car.
The space was satisfying for bit, I will admit. It made me feel like I had a claim on Noah, that no other girl could have him. That I wouldn't have to go through the jealousy again. That I had won and Noah was the prize.
But it didn't take long before my smug smile turned into an unbearable frown.
I had not won. I most certainly did not have a claim on Noah. And any girl could have him, and I could and would have the same jealousy again and again.
It wasn't long before I was sick, and I found myself retreating from Noah and to lean on the window.
Suddenly, my phone felt heavy in my pocket, and I was more aware of it than I was pretty sure I had ever had been.
Suddenly, I just couldn't take it.
My fingers were itching to type, and I couldn't take it any longer.
I lingered on the email contact, and I finally and reluctantly pressed it.
To: SoccerGuy18
From: PixarRules4
Good morning, how did you sleep?
I surveyed the message and quickly deleted it to start again.
To: SoccerGuy18
From: PixarRules4
Finally, I am awake on the road, not with a headache or carsick. And the stupid guy in the back of the car didn't get enough sleep and is asleep. Now I can't talk, have music on, or even breathe too loudly.
My day was good, but the car ride seems horrible now.
Well, that and of course the fact that I am currently stuck "Jealous Island" and have to sit in the car with the guy I am jealous about.
Please, please tell me that someone is having a good day and that the someone is you.
-Pixar
I read it about five times, and I finally pressed the send button on my cell phone screen.
Now, I just sat back, watching the scenery fly by us.
This ride could not end fast enough.
I stared at my phone, waiting for it to buzz.
It did not.
Finally, I put my headphones in, and I did what every starlet did at some point in a teen movie.
I listened to a song, and I dramatically stared out the window as I contemplated life, love, and everything inbetween.
When did I become so cliché?
