Red streaker, thanks for the review! Stick around for some more great chapters. We'll be getting into the actual quest stuff soon, and I can't wait to show Clint interacting with the demi-gods, and when and what Grayson's powers are when they all manifest:).
Face claims are as follows:
Grayson Clarke- Chris Wood
Emma Tyler- Marie Avgeropoulos
Grover Underwood- Gaten Matarazzo
Chiron- Sean Bean
Mr. D- Matthew Perry
Luke Castellan- Lucas Till
Clarisse La Rue- Carly Dutcher
The Demi-god Chronicles Chapter 5
EMMA IS SUPREME LORD OF THE BATHROOM
I don't know how to explain it. Since I woke up in this place, and the longer I was here, I felt something inside me sort of... wake up. It felt the same way it had during the dream I had, and ever since the bus, my hearing, sight and smell hadn't changed from being tuned so high. But as we left the farmhouse, I was hearing voices.
Other than Chiron, there was no one else remotely close to us, and it was starting to drive me crazy. Chiron shot me a funny look when I had jumped, and quickly stepped back, hearing another voice right in front of me, but there was no one there.
"My boy, are you alright?"
"I... I'm fine. It's nothing. I think I'm still just a little jumpy from the hellhound."
Chiron seemed to take that as a reasonable explanation, and I was glad for that. I was looking forward to the tour, and didn't want to uproot it. We passed by the volleyball pit, several of the campers nudged each other, looking at us. One pointed to the shoebox in my hand I was carrying.
Someone else said, "that's him."
Most of the campers I saw were older than me. The satyrs here were all bigger than Grover, all of them trotting around in orange Camp Half-Blood shirts, and horns topped their heads. I wasn't typically this shy, but the way they all stared at me made me uncomfortable. I felt like they were expecting me to start doing tricks or something.
I glanced behind me, looking to the farmhouse. It was so much bigger than I'd realized. Four stories tall, and the outside was painted sky blue with white trim. It more resembled an upscale seaside resort than youth camp big house.
I was checking out the brass eagle weathervane in the roof, when something caught my eye. I saw a shadow in the uppermost window of the attic. Something had moved the curtain for just a second, but I got the distinct impression I was being watched.
"Hey, Chiron. What's up there?" I asked.
He paused, looking to where I was pointing, and his smile faded.
"That's just the attic."
"Does somebody live up there?"
"No, not a single living thing," was his reply.
The way he said it gave me the creeps, and, despite getting the feeling he had told me the truth, I was sure something had made that curtain move.
"Come along, Grayson. There is still much to see."
His lighthearted tone was now a little forced. We kept going, and soon walked through the strawberry fields, where campers were picking bushels of the berries while a satyr played a tune on a reed pipe.
"We grow a nice crop for export to New York, restaurants and Mount Olympus. It helps pay expenses, and thanks to Mr. D the strawberries take almost no effort," Chiron said.
"Why?"
"Mr. D has this effect on fruit bearing plants. They go crazy whenever he's around. It works best with wine grapes, but given his restrictions, he was not allowed to grow those."
I watched the satyr playing his pipe and was a little amazed at how his music caused dozens of bugs to leave the strawberry patch, going in every direction. I wondered if Grover could do that kind of magic with music. I wondered if he was still in the farmhouse, getting chewed out by Mr. D.
"Grover won't get into too much trouble, will he? I mean, he was a good protector. Really," I said. Chiron sighed, shedding his tweed jacket and draping it over his horse half, like a saddle.
"Grover has big dreams, Grayson. Perhaps bigger than to be considered reasonable. To reach his goal, he must first demonstrate great courage by succeeding as a Keeper, finding a new camper and bringing him or her safely to Half-Blood Hill."
"But he did just that!"
"And I would agree with you, but it is not my place to judge. Dionysus and the Council of Cloven Elders must decide. I'm afraid they might not see this assignment as a success. After all, Grover lost you in New York. Then there's the incident that transpired in your apartment. And the fact Emma was seriously injured and had to be carried over the property line. The council might question whether this shows any responsibility on Grover's part," Chiron said.
I wanted to protest, to speak up for my friend. None of what happened was Grover's fault. I also felt really, really guilty. If I hadn't given Grover the slip at the bus station, he might not have gotten into trouble at all.
"He'll get a second chance, right?" I asked.
"I'm afraid that this was Grover's second chance, Grayson. The council was not eager to give him another, not after what happened the last time, five years ago. Olympus knows, I advised him to wait longer before trying again. He's still so small for his age."
"Wait, how old is he?" I asked, curious.
"Oh, twenty-eight."
"What! How the hell is he in sixth grade?" One of Chiron's eyebrows rose at my use of words, but he chose to let it slide.
"Satyrs mature half as fast as humans, Grayson. Grover has been the equivalent of a middle school student for the past six years."
"That's horrible," I said.
"Quite. At any rate, Grover is a late bloomer, even by satyr standards, and merely a novice at woodland magic. Alas, he was anxious to pursue his dream. Perhaps now, he may seek out some other career."
"But that's not fair. What happened the first time? Was it really so bad?" Chiron looked away quickly, like he was trying to forget a terrible memory.
"Let's move along, shall we?" There was no getting anything more out of him, so I went to follow, but stopped in my tracks. I heard another voice, much closer this time, and I could make out a word here and there.
'Strawberries... the music has stopped...' I looked around, but couldn't see anything at first. Then I noticed a few leaves of a strawberry shake slightly, and a weasel popped out from under it. It was munching on one of the beetles that had been leaving the field, and it then went for one of the big strawberries near the bottom. It tore it off, and nibbled on it, all the while, I could hear it. Like it literally spoke.
'Finally. I've been waiting all morning for this. This place has the best snacks.' I glanced up to Chiron, figuring he had to have been hearing it too, but he didn't. By now, the weasel had noticed our presence, and was half hidden under the leaves. Chiron was busy speaking with one of the satyrs, so I took this as an opportunity to get answers. I crouched down, and carefully lifted the leaf.
"Um, hi?" Immediately, the weasel stood up on its hind legs, and sniffed the air out of curiosity.
'I can understand you... but how? You're not one of those goat people.' To me, the small animal sounded like a small child.
"I don't even know how to explain it, I thought I was going crazy, hearing all these voices," I said.
'Who are you?'
"I'm trying to figure that out honestly," was my reply.
"Come, Grayson. Let's see the woods." I glanced quickly back to Chiron, before turning back to the weasel. It... he, was no longer there, scared away by the tall form of Chiron.
"Right, ok," I whispered. Of course, it would look like was talking to myself. Chiron's eyes reflected concern, and he shifted his eyes between from where I'd been looking, to me.
"Are you certain you're alright Grayson?"
"I'm fine. Just admiring the wildlife." I plastered a big smile on my face and walked past him. We ended up on a trail, leading to the woods. As we got closer, I realized how huge the forest actually was. It took up a quarter of the valley, with trees so tall and thick, I imagined nobody had been there since the Native Americans.
"The woods are well stocked, if you ever care to try your luck, but do go armed," Chiron said.
"Wh... why would I need to go in armed? With what? Stocked with what?" I asked.
"You'll see. Capture the flag is Friday night. You'll need your own sword and shield."
"My own... Chiron, I don't even have a change of clothes."
"I suppose it's best to get you fitted. I believe a size five will do. I'll visit the armory later." I wanted to ask what kind of summer camp even had an armory for, but there was too much else to think about, so the tour kept going. He showed me the archery range, and a few kids were spread out, arrows flying down towards the targets. There was a wooden sign nailed to a post listing off high scores or something. At the top, someone named Clint currently held the record.
"Who's Clint?" I asked Chiron. A faint trace of a smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.
"A friend," was all he said. We passed by the canoeing lake, the stables, which seemed to be Chiron's least favorite. He showed me the javelin range, the sing along amphitheater, and there was an arena where they had sword and spear fights.
"Um, why do you have sword fights?" I asked.
"For cabin challenges and all that. They're not lethal... usually. Oh, yes, there's the mess hall." Chiron pointed to an outdoor pavilion framed in white Grecian columns on a hill that overlooked the sea. There were a dozen stone picnic tables, but there was no roof or walls. There were a dozen stone picnic tables. No roof. No walls.
"What do you guys do when it rains?" I asked.
"We still have to eat, don't we? Besides, we do have Emma to take care of that," he said. Finally, he showed me the cabins. There were twelve of them, nestled in among the woods by the lake. They formed a U, with two at the back, and five spreading out on either side.
They were no doubt the strangest collection of buildings I'd ever seen. Each one had a large brass number above the doors, showing odds were on the left, and evens on the right. Every one looked completely different from the next. Number nine had smokestacks jutting out from the roof like a small factory.
Number four had vines crawling on the walls, and the roof was made of real grass. Seven looked to be made out of solid gold, gleaming in the sunlight with so much intensity, it was almost impossible to look at. They all faced a common area the size of a soccer field, which was dotted with Greek statues, fountains, flower beds, and a few basketball hoops. In the center of the field was a giant stone lined fire pit.
Even though it was a warm day, the wood was smoldering. A girl about nine years old was tending to the flames, poking the coals with a stick. The pair of cabins at the head of the field, one and two, were both larger than the rest, and one was the bulkiest of the twelve. White columns lined the front, and the bronze doors shimmered, revealing lightning bolts streaking across them.
Cabin two was more graceful, the columns slimmer and were garlanded with pomegranates and flowers. The walls were carved with images of peacocks.
"Let me guess... Zeus and Hera?"
"Correct," Chiron said.
"But their cabins look empty."
"Several of the cabins are, this is true. No one ever stays in one or two."
"Okay. So, each cabin has a different god, like a mascot. Twelve for each of the Olympians," I said.
'But why would some of them be empty?' I thought.
I stopped in front of one of the cabins on the right, this one a little more nestled back in the woods than the rest. This cabin wasn't high and mighty like the first one. It closely resembled a ski lodge, kind of like you'd expect to find in a mountain resort. The wood was pine or birch, and a porch lined the front, ending halfway down the left side. I stepped up the pathway and peeked in through the open doorway.
"Oh, Grayson, I wouldn't do that. That cabin is off limits to campers!" Before Chiron could pull me back, I caught the strong scent of pine, with undertones of what I'd imagine mountain air was like. The interior was cozy, and the entirety of it seemed to be made of oak. It all looked like it had been set up to resemble a luxurious ski lodge, and a wooden stairway wound its way up, ending in a second story that stopped halfway across.
A dozen or so bunks hugged the walls, and the white blankets and sheets were all made. Everything was pristine, and there was no sign anyone had slept in there for a long time. The place was welcoming, and I almost walked in, but Chiron put a hand on my shoulder.
"Come along, Grayson." He led me away from the cabin, and with one last glance, we checked out the other cabins. All of them were crowded with campers. Cabin five was painted an ugly bright red, the color looking like it had been splashed on with buckets. Barbed wire lined the roof, and a stuffed wild boar's head hung over the doorway, its eyes seeming to follow me.
Inside I could see a bunch of mean looking kids, girls and boys, arm wrestling and arguing with each other while rock music blared. The loudest was a girl, maybe thirteen or fourteen. She wore a size XXXL Camp Half-Blood shirt underneath a camouflage jacket. She zeroed in on me and gave me a nasty sneer.
She reminded me of Nancy Bobofit, though this girl was much bigger and tougher looking, and her hair was long and stringy, brown instead of red. I turned my gaze away, and kept walking, staying clear of Chiron's hooves.
"How come there aren't any other centaurs?" I asked.
"Well, my kinsmen are a wild and barbaric folk, I'm afraid. You may encounter them in the wilderness, or at major sporting events. But you won't find any here." We walked for a few feet away, before another question popped into my head.
"Your name is Chiron, are you really..." He smiled down at me.
"The Chiron from the stories? The one who trained Hercules and all that? Yes, indeed I am, Grayson."
"But then, shouldn't you be dead?" I asked. Chiron paused, as if the question intrigued him.
"I honestly don't know about should be. The truth is, I can't be dead. You see, eons ago the gods granted one wish I had. I could continue the work I loved. I could be a teacher of heroes as long as humanity would need me. I gained much from that wish... I also gave up much. But I am still here, so I can only assume I'm still needed." I thought about living for three thousand years, being a teacher to countless people. It definitely did not make my top ten things on my wish list.
"Does it ever get boring?" I asked.
"No, no. Horribly depressing at times, but never boring."
"Depressing how?" Chiron quickly changed the subject, pointing to something ahead of us.
"Oh, look, Emma is waiting for us." The dark-haired girl was reading a book in front of the last cabin on the left, number eleven. When we reached her, she looked up at me in a judging way, like she was still thinking about how much I drooled, which I knew for a fact I don't. I tried to see what she was reading, but I couldn't make out the title. I thought that my dyslexia was acting up, but then I realized the title wasn't even in English.
The letters looked Greek to me, I mean literally Greek. On the cover there was a picture of a submersible, being pulled down by a giant squid. The words finally registered with me, and I read out the title.
"10,000 leagues under the sea?" I asked. Emma's eyes flitted over to me, and I could've sworn the corner of her mouth upturned into a smile.
"Emma, I have an archery class to teach at noon. Would you mind taking Grayson from here?"
"Sure, Chiron." Chiron faced me, gesturing towards the doorway.
"Cabin Eleven. Make yourself at home," he said. Out of all of the cabins, eleven looked like a plain old summer camp cabin, with an emphasis on the old part. The threshold was worn down, and the brown paint was peeling. Over the doorway was one of those doctor's symbols, a winged pole with two snakes wrapped around it.
I think May had called it a caduceus once. Inside, it was packed with people, way more than the number of bunk beds. Sleeping bags were spread out all over the floor. It looked like a gym where the Red Cross had set up a storm shelter. Chiron didn't go in as the door was too low for him.
But when the campers saw him, they all stopped what they were doing and nodded respectively.
"Well then, good luck Grayson. I'll see you at dinner." With that he turned and galloped away toward the archery range. I stood in the doorway, looking at the kids. They were now staring at me, sizing me up. I knew this routine. I'd gone through it at every school I'd been to.
"What are you waiting for? Go on in," Emma said. I stepped inside, minding the door, so I didn't fall and make a total fool of myself.
"Grayson Clarke, meet Cabin eleven." Someone called out from among the crowd.
"Regular or undetermined?" I had no idea what to say, but Emma spoke up.
"Undetermined." They all let out a collective groan. A guy who was a little older than the rest came forward.
"Now, now guys. That's what we're here for. Welcome to the crazy, Grayson. You can have that spot on the floor, right over there." The guy was about nineteen, and he looked like he was pretty cool. He was tall, muscular, had short sandy hair, and a friendly smile. He wore an orange shirt with the sleeves ripped off, shorts, sandals, and a leather necklace with five different colored clay beads. The only unsettling thing about his appearance was a thick white scar that ran from just beneath his right eye to his jaw. It looked like something had clawed his face.
"This is Luke," Emma said, and her voice sounded different somehow. I glanced over to her, and could've sworn she was blushing. She saw me looking, and her expression hardened again.
"He's your counselor for now," she said.
"For now?" I asked.
"You're undetermined. They don't know what cabin to put you in, so you're here. Cabin eleven takes in all newcomers, all visitors. Naturally, we would. Hermes, our patron, is the god of travelers," Luke said. I looked at the tiny section of floor that they'd given me. I had nothing to put there to mark it as my own. No luggage, no clothes, not even a sleeping bag.
Just the shoebox, and my necklace, which was not coming off. I remembered Hermes was also the god of thieves, so the box was not leaving my grasp. I looked around at the campers' faces. Some looked sullen and suspicious, some were grinning stupidly, and some were eyeing me as if they were waiting for the chance to pick my pockets.
"How long will I be here?" I asked.
"That's a good question. Until you're determined," Luke said.
"Any idea how long that will take?" The campers all laughed in response. Emma rolled her eyes, grabbing a hold of my hand.
"Come on, I'll show you the volleyball court."
"But I've already seen it."
"Come on." Emma dragged me outside, and I could hear the kids in the cabin laughing behind me. When we had gotten a few feet away, Emma turned on her heel to glare at me.
"Clarke, you have got to do better than that," she said.
"What?" She rolled her eyes, mumbling under her breath.
"I can't believe I thought you were supposed to be the one."
"The one what? What's your problem?" I said. I was getting angry now, and I felt a fire inside my chest.
"I kill some stupid Minotaur, and now all I know is-", I said.
"Don't say that! Do you have any idea how many kids in this camp wish they'd had the chance you did!?" Emma yelled.
"To do what, get killed?"
"To fight the Minotaur, you idiot! What do you think we train for!?" Emma yelled.
"I don't care if the thing I fought really was the Minotaur, the same one in the stories..."
"It was."
"Ok, then he died, like, a billion years ago, when Theseus killed him in the Labyrinth," I said.
"Monsters don't die, Grayson. They can be killed, yes, but they don't die."
"Oh ok, wow, thanks, that clears it up." Emma rolled her eyes again, letting out a sigh in exasperation.
"They don't have souls, like you and I do. You can get rid of them for a while, maybe even a whole lifetime if you're lucky. But they're primal forces. Chiron calls them archetypes. They'll eventually reform." I thought back to the thing that was Mrs. Dodds, and the hellhound from my apartment.
"So, if I killed one, by luck-" I said.
"The Fur... your math teacher, that's right. She's still out there somewhere. Same with the hellhound I killed. You just made her extremely angry. We both did."
"How did you even know about Mrs. Dodds?"
"While you might not drool in your sleep, you do talk in your sleep," Emma said.
"You almost called her something else... a Fury? They were Hades' torturers, right?" I asked. Emma nervously closed her eyes, as if she expected one of them to pop up and eat her.
"Please... please, don't call them by name. Even here, you shouldn't say their name. We call them the Kindly Ones, if we have to talk about them at all."
"Is there anything we can say without it thundering? Why do I have to stay in Cabin eleven anyway? Why is everybody so crowded together? There are plenty of empty beds right over there." I pointed to the first few cabins, sounding pretty whiny, but at this point I didn't care. Emma's face scrunched up in frustration, and she took a step closer to me.
"You don't get to just choose a cabin, Grayson. Least of all mine. It depends on who your parents are. Or at least your parent." Emma fixed me with her green eyes, waiting for me to understand.
"My dad is... was Thomas Clarke. I wasn't sure what he did at his job," I said. Something in my tone made Emma's face soften just a little.
"I'm sorry about your dad, Grayson. But that's not what I mean. I'm talking about your other parent. Your mom."
"She left him not long after I was born. I never really knew her." It was clear she'd had conversations with other kids before, and she sighed.
"You may have not known her, Grayson, but she'd have been keeping an eye on you your entire life." As soon as she said that, it hit me. The dream I had before the hellhound attacked me... a woman had talked to me, and had warned me. Even still, something about it bothered me.
"But how can you say that for sure? Do you know her?" I asked.
"No, of course I don't."
"Then how-"
"Because I know about you. You wouldn't be here if you weren't one of us."
"You don't know anything about me," I said.
"Oh, I don't? You moved around from school to school, getting kicked out of a lot of them."
"How did you-"
"You were diagnosed with dyslexia, probably ADHD too." I got a little upset with embarrassment.
"Yeah, so? what does that have anything to do with it?" I said.
"All together, it's almost a sure sign. The letters, they float off the page when you read, because your mind is hardwired for ancient Greek. The ADHD... you're impulsive, can't sit still in class. Those are your battlefield reflexes, they keep you alive in a fight. And the attention problems, that's because you see too much, Grayson, not too little. Your senses are better than a regular mortal's. Teachers want you medicated too, since most of them are monsters. They don't want you to end up seeing them for what they really are," she said.
"You sound like... did you go through the same thing?" I asked.
"Yes, most of the kids here did. If you weren't like us, you wouldn't have survived the Minotaur, much less the ambrosia and nectar."
"What is that?"
"The food I gave you back in your apartment, and the drink Grover had for you to make you feel better. That stuff would've killed a normal human. Your blood would've turned into fire, and your bones into sand. There's no denying it, you're a half-blood." My brain was reeling with so many questions, I didn't even know where to start. From somewhere behind us, a husky voice yelled out.
"Well well well, hey there newbie!" I glanced behind me to see that girl from the ugly red cabin walking up towards us. She had three other girls behind her, all of them as big, ugly and mean looking as she was. Each of them had their own camo jackets on.
"Clarisse, why don't you go polish your spear or something?" Emma said.
"Sure, Miss Fish, so I can run you through with it on Friday night."
"πήγαινε να κολυμπήσεις με καρχαρίες!" Emma said. I understood what she had said somehow, as go swim with sharks! I had a feeling it was something she could back up if need be.
"You don't stand a chance, fish!" Clarisse shot back. But despite her trying to sound tough, I saw her eye was twitching. She must've realized she couldn't back her words, and she turned her attention to me.
"So, who's this little shit?" she spat.
"Grayson Clarke, meet the ever-wonderful Clarisse, daughter of Ares," Emma said, her voice full of sarcasm.
"You mean the war god?" I asked. Clarisse sneered at me, and somehow made her uglier than she already was.
"Yeah, you got a problem with that punk ass?" I recovered my wits and stood up on my toes just a little bit. I was not about to be intimidated by anybody.
"No, and it explains the terrible smell and lack of brain cells." Clarisse's eyes narrowed into slits, and she took a big step towards me, getting into my face.
"You've got a big mouth. We've got a little initiation for newbies, that'll shut you right up, prick."
"Actually, my name's Grayson, in case you were too stupid to catch it the first time." Emma's took a nervous step forward, though I saw a faint smile on her lips.
"Grayson-" she had started to say. But Clarisse had had enough, and she shot Emma with a look.
"Stay the hell out of this, fish queen!" she yelled. Emma got pissed off at the comment, and she started to move towards Clarisse. I held my arm out, not really wanting her to help me after that. I was the new kid, and I needed to earn my own reputation. I gave the shoebox with the horn to her, ready to fight, but out of nowhere, Clarisse had grabbed me by the back of my neck.
She started dragging me towards a cinder block building that I immediately knew was the bathrooms, and I started throwing punches. I'd been in fights before, but Clarisse had a grip like iron, and my fists bounced off, not doing a thing to her.
"Get off me you cow!" That probably hadn't been the best thing to say, and in the next second, Clarisse punched me right in the face. I felt the explosion of pain, and blood dripped from my nose.
"Clarisse, stop!" Emma yelled. Clarisse ignored her, and kept pulling me into the bathrooms, and we were now on the girls' side. Dirty toilets lined one side of the room, shower stalls down the other. The whole place already stank, but thanks to my better sense of smell, it was so much worse. All I could think about was that if this camp belonged to the gods, why would the restrooms be this dirty.
Clarisse was pulling on my hair now, hard enough it felt like it was ripping straight out of the roots. The three girls Clarisse had brought with her were laughing at my attempts to get out of this, trying to latch onto the strength I had found when I killed the Minotaur, but I couldn't find it again. But I found... something else. I got really, really angry, at the pain I was feeling, the route my life had gone since the damn museum, and it finally boiled over.
I lashed out at Clarisse, and several gashes now ran down her arm, and she recoiled in alarm. Her grip on my hair loosened, and I fell back onto the tiled floor. Emma stood in the doorway, her eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. I raised my left hand just in time to see my nails shrink back to normal. Blood stained my hand, and I felt sick for a moment.
"Prick!" Clarisse's eyes seemed to glow with rage, and she charged at me. Clarisse grabbed ahold of the back of my shirt, and practically threw me into one of the stalls. She bent me over the toilet, and started pushing my head down into the toilet bowl. It smelled absolutely disgusting, like rusted pipes, and I didn't want to know what else.
I fought to keep my head up out of that disgusting water, trying not to throw up. In the next second, I felt the bathroom start to shake, and the pipes began clanging. Clarisse and the other girls froze, and all eyes turned to look at Emma. Clarisse let go of my hair, and tried to back away, but water shot up out of the toilet, blasting her straight in the face.
Water erupted out of the other toilets, and the shower heads, dousing her friends too. Another jet of water hit Clarisse so hard, it knocked her over, and sent her across the floor, screaming, into a shower stall. It kept going, like from a hose, and Clarisse was struggling to get up, gasping for air. Water flooded the floor, and it was as if it grabbed all of them, sending them shooting out of the bathroom.
As soon as they were out of the door, all of the water stopped as quickly as it had started. I was soaking wet, not having been spared, but the water acting like that wasn't the strange part. Emma stood in the corner, completely dry, and she was standing in a dry circle of floor. I stood up in shaky legs and wiped the water off of my face.
"Uh, thanks?" I said.
"Don't mention it. How about next time, don't pick fights you can't win," Emma said. She turned and walked out of the bathroom, me following right behind her. On the ground, Clarisse and her friends were covered in mud, and by now a bunch of the other campers had gathered around to look. Clarisse's hair was plastered to her face, and like the others, her clothes were dripping wet. She gave Emma a look of pure hatred, and she got up to start something again.
"That's it, fish! You are so dead, both of you!" Clarisse yelled. Emma stepped forward until she was right in Clarisse's face, completely unafraid.
"You wanna go again?" Emma's hand dipped down to her seashell bracelet, a movement that didn't go unnoticed by Clarisse's friends. The closest one to her, grabbed ahold of her arm, holding her back.
"Clarisse... it's not worth it, let's go." The others joined in, and they had to drag her back to their cabin, the other campers ducking her flailing limbs. I looked over to Emma already staring at me, specifically my shirt. Emma snapped her fingers, and a mist came off my shirt. I ran a hand over my clothes to find them bone dry, and even my hair wasn't damp anymore.
"Thanks." I had a smile on my face, the first one I really meant. Emma's eyes widened slightly at the sight, and she tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear.
"You're welcome. Look, um... if you want to make it another day, you'll probably want to be on my team for capture the flag," she said.
"Right... so today went pretty great," I said. Emma rolled her eyes, but she actually smiled, and laughed a little. It was a nice sight, for however short it lasted.
"We should get going. I've still got more to show you, and not that much time left to do it." Emma started away from the bathrooms, and I followed closely behind.