References to 11, 31, 32
Cabin 11 — SAT
OC (13) - Travis (13) - Connor (13)
Early June 2007
Celise can't help but compare them to him. Travis and Connor Stoll are nothing like Luke Castellan.
Luke was kind. Luke was charismatic. Luke was respectable. Luke was talented and nice and perfect. And Luke would have handled this much, much better.
Celise watches the new guys — Michael and Sherman — scream and shout at each other as she shimmies her way around the cabin, searching for an empty bed. Travis and Connor are trying to separate them without much success. It's going to get physical, but a girl with the prettiest green eyes she ever saw steps in and flips Sherman onto his back like it was nothing.
She's new. She wasn't here last year.
"We are all in the same boat so let's try to get along, yeah?" this girl says with a sweet smile.
Travis and Connor high-five the new girl with familiar, twin grins. "Miranda! You're such a lifesaver, dude."
And the girl just smiles back at them, smile widening. "Anytime."
Miranda, huh?
She can't help but think Luke would have solved this by himself. And without anyone on the ground too.
She's only been at Camp since last year. She actually arrived a week before Perseus Jackson. Since first meeting them, Travis and Connor have been nothing but an annoyance. Did you know? Her first week of camp, they filled her shoes with shaving cream every single day. Luke had told her if she reacted badly, if she reacted at all then she'd be a target. So she didn't. She had glanced at her shoes, then at the brothers who stared at her with twin smirks, then she walked away without a word and went barefoot for the day, only letting loose all her anger in the privacy of the arts and crafts center later that evening. It stayed like that for a week and it was the worst week of her life but it worked. They never bothered her after that, instead clinging to Percy's side and involving the son of the Sea God in their shenanigans.
And now these two pranksters are her counselors.
It's unimaginable.
What was Chiron thinking?
To their credit though, she will begrudgingly admit they are trying. They haven't pranked a single person yet this morning and they did try to stop a fight rather than incite it further. They're even trying to put on this mask of responsibility as they make an announcement to the cabin, glossing over Luke's departure rather quickly. Maybe to the new campers it's working, but all Celise sees is a mask.
It's kind of silly actually, watching them play pretend.
These prank-loving, immature idiots can't possibly lead the cabin.
'Any problems you guys have, whether it be life problems, camp problems, prank problems, you can come to us.'
Is what they say.
Time to put it to the test.
The next day, she tracks them down during free time. The duo are sitting across from each other on the lower bunk bed, a notebook between them. They subtly put some inconsequential papers on top of their notes. Not that it matters. She couldn't care less about whatever Travis and Connor Stoll have going on in their lives.
She enters the cabin and marches up to them, holding a stack of paper out with her right hand. There's twin blinks of confusion as they look at the paper. When she wiggles the stack, one of them gingerly takes it into his hand.
"Uh, what's this?" Travis or Connor asks.
"Study papers for SAT," she says plainly, a bit irked that they asked. It says right on the top there. Can't they read? "I need help studying."
Travis or Connor squints at her. They really should wear name tags. It would make it all so much easier for them. "Aren't you 13 like me? Isn't that a bit young to be taking the SAT? College is years away."
"It's good to start studying now for a head start."
"Ah. Okay. Makes sense," the other says. They both nod in unison, then they look down at the papers. "So… what do you want us to do?"
"Help me study," she says simply.
They share a look and maybe in a different life, they would have said no. Maybe last year they would have said no.
But they flip through the pages together, brows furrowing in thought. One even curled their lips in disdain.
"Trigonometry? The SAT really has trigonometry in here?" one of them complains.
"Are those limits, derivatives, and integrals? I don't think the SAT has those."
"Well, it's in the study pack," she states.
They flip through more pages.
"I don't know any of these vocab words. Do you?"
"Uh… kind of, I think."
"Can you help or not?" she snaps without meaning to.
"You're going into 8th grade, right, Celise? You'll learn these topics when you're a sophomore in high school. Most people take the SAT when they're juniors or seniors, you know."
"But if I learn it now, I can ace the SAT," she argues.
They're holding back a sigh. One of them grumbles under his breath in something that's definitely not English.
They both slide out of the bed, one of them tucking the notebook into a backpack that he slings over his back. "I guess we can ask Lee to help you."
"No. I want you two to help me."
She winces at her spur-of-the-moment comeback and based on the brothers' dumbfounded faces, they're shocked too.
"What? Why? Lee actually took the SAT. He's in college, you know. Juilliard too to boot."
"Because you said you'll help me, not Lee. Remember what you said yesterday? Whatever problems, you guys promise to help us."
What is she saying?! Lee would be far better than these two idiots. But she can't retract her childish tirade when Travis and Connor both nod reluctantly and agree with her.
"We did say that, huh?" one of the brothers says sheepishly.
They split apart and lead her to the back of the cabin where a dusty 47'' by 35'' whiteboard on wheels sits unused.
One of them cleans the board and the other gives her a blue plastic chair and a foldable dining tray.
"Alrighty, then," one says with a hearty sigh with his hands on his hips as he stares at the blank board. "Where to start?"
She hands them a dry-erase marker. "Start with writing your names. I don't know who's who."
Travis writes his name with an arrow pointing towards him and stands to the left of the board. Connor scribbles his name on the right side.
"I guess we'll start with what you know," Connor says. "How much of the packets have you gone over?"
Celise crosses her arms and leans back in the seat, nodding once. "I don't know anything."
Travis's nose wrinkles. "You sound kind of proud of that."
They both stare at her and she shrugs. "I'm not a great student. I have dyslexia and ADHD, you know."
Connor's nose wrinkles the same way Travis does. "Well, you're preparing pretty early so you can't be that bad of a student. I guess we'll start with the math questions. Travis, pick a random one."
Travis scribbles a geometry question on the board. One of those where you're given just enough information to use the theories you learn. Like how straight angles are supposed to be 180 and a full circle is 360. Then something about parallel lines and how the properties make certain angles on intersecting lines equal each other. And supposedly, with all that, it's enough to find the angle of ABC.
She hates those. Her math never works out in the end and she always resorts to guessing whatever option C is. Still she pulls out a notebook and a pencil.
She expected the study session to go awful. She expected them to know absolutely nothing.
But they explain it decently to her surprise. And succinctly too. A lot better than her teacher would have. She actually understands what they're saying. She understands the reason why. She's actually learning right now.
"What the fuck," she states.
Travis's nose wrinkles in disapproval. "Don't cuss. Especially in front of the younger campers. We have a 9-year-old with us this year."
"What the fuck?" she repeats again. "How do you know those things?"
"Uh…"
Travis and Connor look at each other and they both shrug. Travis rubs the back of his neck and Connor scratches his cheek as they both look off to the side.
"I don't really know to be honest. In my head, it kinda makes sense. While I was talking, I just … zoned out," Connor says.
"I also blacked out. I know Chiron went over this with us a couple of weeks ago before summer started. We're probably just regurgitating his words."
"You guys actually pay attention in class." This revelation is astonishing.
"We're not complete idiots," Travis says with a light-hearted laugh, erasing the board and putting a new math problem up.
"We just look dumb compared to Annabeth. She's good at everything she does," Connor complains, but the pout quickly becomes a giddy grin. "That's changing this year though. I'm beating her at archery this time around. With Michael's help, I'll finally be better."
Travis grins and he's spinning to face his brother with the same matching enthusiastic energy. "Totally! Michael is a natural. It's actually scary how good he already is considering he has zero experience. You think he likes pranks? Maybe he can help us out when we need someone with a good eye."
"Nah, Michael seems too upstanding for that."
"Maybe we can bribe him."
"With what?"
"I don't know. Uh. What does he like?"
"Guys," she cuts into their little inappropriate discussion, "Studying. SAT. Me."
"Right, right."
They dive into the English portion next, explaining why this sentence is more grammatically correct or why this line is the best evidence for the character's action. All the English questions they go over with her, they both come to the same answer. And when she flips to the back of the packet to check the answers, they were right.
Then the essay writing portion that she hates to know ends, it's the same there. Somehow, someway, they understand the assignment perfectly and in minutes, they both have a unique rough draft of an essay that's near perfection.
There's no bullshitting or guessing on their end.
They're actually smart, she realizes with terror. They can actually help her.
How though? Why? She doesn't get it. They're not children of Athena, so how can they be so book-smart? She wants to ask how they know all this stuff, but there's no way to phrase her questions without sounding like a complete ass.
And with 5 minutes of free time left, Travis and Connor tell her they have to go and leave her alone in the cabin to stew in her thoughts.
The concept plagues her mind for the rest of the day. It's still hanging in her thoughts even with about half an hour left till curfew. She observes Travis and Connor from her bunk bed, resting her chin on the pillow she's hugging to her chest. They're teaching Miranda and Sherman poker. Miranda has a great poker face, her soft smile giving nothing away. Sherman, not so much as he's grumbling and scratching his head. In a few more seconds, Sherman throws the card down and screams in frustration.
"This game is stupid!"
The trio laughs and Sherman reddens, grabbing the deck of cards and throwing it at Travis's and Connor's face. "You two shut up!"
"You look like something's bothering you," Malcolm says next to her, a foot on the ladder to the upper bunk. She's glad Malcolm is her upper bunk bed habitant this year. He barely tossed and turned. "What's up?"
She thinks about lying, but Malcolm is a good person, unlike Travis and Connor. He won't make fun of her like her two new counselors.
She scoots down on her bed and pats the freed-up space. When Malcolm sits down beside her, she hugs her pillow closer and mumbles, "I thought only Athena's kids were school-smart."
Malcolm seems to get what she's saying right away.
Of course he does.
He's more observant than all of the cabin combined.
"Hermes is also pretty smart himself. He's the god of a lot of things and some of them overlap with other Olympians and divine beings. Like, Hephaestus is the god of machines and smiths, but Hermes is the inventor of rustic tools. Apollo is the god of prophecy, but he gifted Hermes the caduceus and made him the god of birds of omen. Hestia is the goddess of the hearth, but Hermes is also the god of hospitality and a protector of the home too. In return, some of Hermes's children are super innovative and crafty, have some kind of clairvoyance, and/or are really good at interior design."
Celise bites her cheeks and sinks her chin deeper in her pillow. Sherman is tugging out Monopoly from the shelves where they keep all their board games.
"You sure about that?" one of the Stoll brothers says with an infuriatingly, cocky grin.
"You know who our dad is, right?" says the other with a similar smirk.
Sherman just opens the board up and grumbles as he snatches up the car piece, "Like that even matters in this game. What matters is a lucky roll."
Celise huffs and tucks a stray hair behind her ear. "Okay, but what about writing? They actually wrote a decent 5 paragraph persuasive and argumentative essay in a few minutes. They literally hit all the points my teacher told me. And worse yet, it actually makes sense."
Malcolm watches the game of Monopoly unfold with her. Sherman by good fortune lands on a chance card and immediately goes to jail.
"Hermes is the god of writing," Malcolm explains as Sherman grumbles in annoyance, "He invented it and gave it to the first humans for delivering messages and trading between merchants. Coupled with Hermes being the god of persuasion, I understand how Travis and Connor know what goes into a good essay."
Sherman fumes, arms crossed. "I bet you guys rigged this game. I bet the dice is loaded."
"Don't be a sore loser, Shermie," Connor and Travis tease in unison as Miranda rolls the dice. They duck under the body pillow Sherman throws at them.
"Alright, but what about how they explained all those math topics? I always struggled with geometry and algebra, but they broke it down easily," she sounds like a whiny brat and maybe she is, but she still can't fathom how they know so much.
"Also makes sense to me, Hermes is the god of astronomy. One of his grandfathers, a titan, taught him the stars so all children of Hermes know their constellations. Hermes even had a hand in laying some of the stars down. Lepus and Triangulum. Annabeth was cheesed about that. When they were kids, they lied to her that they didn't know about the stars so she went on a tirade about them for no reason. I'm sidetracking here, but the point is Hermes knows astronomy and some of his children know that subject well. And astronomy, especially modern astronomy, relies heavily on mathematics such as geometry, calculus, and trigonometry. So it makes sense that math comes easy to them."
"Does it though?" It sounds kind of farfetched to be honest. The only talented child of Hermes she ever met was Luke and Luke's only talent was in swordfighting. But Percy is already showing promise to be better. There's no outstanding child of Hermes. Compared to mortals, they might be special. But compared to demigods, they're just average nobodies. It's like the saying goes. Jack of all trades, master of none. All the other cabins have something that outshines Hermes's Cabin.
But Malcolm nods like he believes everything he says.
"Their dad is a god of a lot of things and not just thieves and travelers. Hermes is the god of animal husbandry and therefore herds and flocks. He's known as the god of shepherds. And he's also heralded as the god of rustic tools and arts. Because of all that, most children of Hermes can be good livestock farmers. A lot of successful farms were either reared by Hermes's children or had been blessed by them. And to go with that, Hermes is the god of guard dogs like guardian livestock dogs like the Great Pyrenees or guard dogs for the home like the Dobermans. I think he also covers herding dogs as well. They make excellent dog trainers. Hermes is also the god of languages and speech. Most of his kids have an innate understanding of all languages. It varies per kid. Some are good with only Germanic language families such as Danish and Icelandic, while some excel in the Slavic family and some only understand Romance and others the Sino-Tibetan language families. I think Travis and Connor are good with it all. Annabeth spent a lot of time testing which language they're better at, but they had decent proficiency in all of them."
Malcolm pauses and Celise thinks that is the last of it, but Malcolm takes a breath and a sip from a water bottle before he's continues.
"And with all that, Hermes was the first amongst the gods to honor the Titaness of memory, Mnemosyne. They have a good working relationship. In the past, people prayed to both for good memory and learning. I heard of some children of Hermes being very good at learning to the point all they need is to see it once and they can replicate it. He's also a god of feasts and banquets. So they can throw pretty decent parties. Hermes is also the inventor of the lyre, all his children are good with any stringed instruments, but they're the best with the lyre and harp. There's a lot more too. God of contests and athletics. God of trades and merchants. God of rustic music and fables. God of rustic divination. Shepherd of souls to the underworld. Messenger of the gods. There's even some hymns out there where Hermes is the god of sleep and dreams."
"I thought sleep was Hypnos's job."
"Some titles can overlap. His caduceus puts people to sleep and can wake them up with a touch. It probably helps him to pass divine messages from the gods to the mortals back in the day. I don't know if it's related but do you know how people say to count sheep to fall asleep?"
Looks like the Monopoly game is over. Sherman is dead last. Miranda is third. Celise doesn't know which brother got first or second, but does it matter? She flops onto her back and throws an arm over her eyes as Sherman demands they start a new game.
Celise mumbles, "Luke never mentioned any of this."
Malcolm fiddles with the strap of his water bottle. "Well, most new campers want to know about other things when Luke is just finishing the part of Hermes being the god of hospitality. Which is understandable. You know what it was like."
"With you knowing all this, it makes me think you want your godly parent to be Hermes."
Malcolm takes a second longer to answer, staring at Travis and Connor destroy Sherman in a game of Egyptian War. "I'm not a son of Hermes. I wouldn't mind being one though. Being a child of Hermes gives you a lot of options. You can be a lawyer. You can be a farmer. You can be an international translator. You can be an actor or a voice actor. You can be a veterinarian. You can be an entrepreneur. You can be an astronaut. You can be a musician. The list is endless. There are so many things they're good at. So many options they can take in life. Hermes is well-rounded so all his children are well-rounded too."
"I see."
But Travis and Connor are still the stereotypical idiot pranksters. It doesn't look like they inherit anything other than being tricksters.
"Besides," Malcolm stands and he stretches, glancing at her with a hint of smile, "Do you know how that one saying goes? Jack of all trades. Master of none. But oftentimes better than a master of one. Don't assume that what you see is all there is."
Summer progresses like normal.
Other than the fact that Thalia's Pine is dying and monsters are getting through easily now and that their activity director is replaced by the ugliest man with the most horrible personality and that their chariot race was interrupted by Stymphalian birds and that all of them now have some kind of scar from dusting those monsters, summer progresses like normal.
Oh. That's right. Clarisse leaves on her quest to retrieve the golden fleece. Percy and Annabeth and that cyclops Tyson mysteriously disappear too, but they all know they're going after Clarisse.
Other than all that, summer progresses like normal just with a little more monster occurrences.
And somehow, someway, Travis and Connor find time outside of being head counselors, border patrol, the usual camp activities, the monster slaying, and helping Michael to tutor her.
Every other day, Connor goes over math problems with her in their cabin. On alternate days Travis helps her go over the English portion of the SAT.
Then every Saturday night, they time her and make her write an essay. Then they make Malcolm grade it for them and he's such a harsh grader. It's awful.
As for the vocabulary words, well, they teach her in the most annoying way possible.
She steps out of the communal bathroom. One of her kinder cabinmates tells her to duck but she thinks they are speaking to someone else so she does not duck. A scrunched-up piece of paper smacks into her face.
"Static," one of the Stoll brothers yells. The ball of paper plops on the floor. Her counselor has a wide, goofy grin as he stands on his upper bunk bed. "It stands for motionless or changeless. If you were less static, you could have dodged that."
"Aww, come on. Don't be so down. This phase of ours is definitely ephemeral," the other brother says lounging cross-legged on the bottom bunk, but with the same wide grin. "Ephemeral stands for short-lived."
What was it Luke had told her?
Ignore them and they'll stop whatever they're doing?
She grabs the doorknob and steps back inside the bathroom, closing the door gently despite every fiber of her being telling her to slam it shut.
"You're so phlegmatic, Celise." She hears from the other side. "It stands for a calm and stoic disposition."
"Hey, Travis, do you think what we're doing is kind of pernicious? Which by the way means having a harmful effect in a subtle way in case you didn't know, Celise."
"Maybe, but this is actually kind of fun! Let's remain pertinacious. That means to stay firm to an opinion of course of action, Celise. Celise? Hey, Celise? Are you still in there?"
She shoves the window open and crawls out, holding in her grumbles until she's alone.
Clarisse made it back, whole and alive.
Annabeth, Percy, Grover, and Tyson too. But they keep their celebration on the Ares girl only. Celise doesn't really get it, but it has to do with them not getting expelled. If it means Percy and Annabeth get to stay at camp, then she'll gladly do whatever she has to do.
But with what Luke had done. With what Percy and Chiron had told them all about Luke and his goal, it's like a dam breaking open. Some of the campers don't trust her. Some of the campers hate her cabin. They're convinced that everybody in Hermes' cabin is nothing but a pack of thieves and traitors, more aligned with their crazy ex-head counselor than the camp itself. Which sounds ridiculous but whatever.
The whispers behind her back, the dirty glares she can deal with. The little shoves that make her trip, she can't deal with. The spray paint on her belongings that ruins them, she can't deal with. The more aggressive sparring against the other cabins to the point she can actually lose a limb if she's not careful, she can't deal with.
The boiling, raving, raging dark haze in her mind is different from the anger she normally experiences.
Maybe all those times with Travis and Connor, it was never anger. Maybe it was just irritation.
But this haze now. She knows it's fury. She knows it's wrath. It's hatred.
She wants to kick her tormentors in the stomach. She wants to make them cry, to beg on their knees, to dangle them from the ankles on top of the climbing wall, to plunge their heads in the toilets, to scream her voice out until she's hoarse and can't say a single word more.
It's a nice fantasy to dream about.
But that's all it can be.
Just a dream.
Luke's words come back to her, to stay calm, to stay unbothered. Despite all Luke had done, he was her head counselor for a summer and he did help her.
She ignores them like she ignores Travis and Connor when they're doing one of their annoying shenanigans. And sure enough, it works. They leave her alone to pick someone else. Someone like Martin who just got to camp and is clueless about it all or Clovis who's stammering and trying to hide behind a book. It makes her uncomfortable, but maybe they'll learn to ignore it like her.
Maybe Travis and Connor will help them the way Luke helped her.
And they do, surprisingly.
But not the same way as Luke did before.
Screams ring through the whole camp early in the morning that has all of them springing out of bed. Celise thought the birds were back. But the door to Apollo's Cabin opens and Celise watches Michael stomps over to their cabin and hurls a shampoo bottle at Travis and Connor. Spiders and worms crawl out of the bottles. Michael is yelling something about them traumatizing his cabinmates, but Travis and Connor only snicker in response. When Michael pounces, Lee the head counselor of Apollo's Cabin holds his half-brother back by the arms.
They did it for Martin, she realizes, stomach roiling. Luke never defended me the same way.
"If anyone is ever bothering you guys, just tell us. We'll take care of it," Travis or Connor tell them during dinner.
Luke never said he'd take care of my problems, she thinks as she stabs her salad.
"That's what family is for, ya know? Don't think you'll ever bother us," the other brother follows up with.
Luke never said I was family, she thinks as she watches Martin smile for the best time since coming here.
"Fight back," they tell them.
Luke never told me to fight back.
"Shove them. Prank them. Steal from them," they say, "Stop holding it in and just go feral."
Celise lowers her fork. Her heart pounds in her chest. Yes. Let's do it. But she squashes that desire. She keeps the grin out of her face, forcing her face to frown in disapproval, but even all that can't keep the hopeful excitement out of her voice. "Seriously? Won't that just get us in more trouble?"
But the brothers shrug. "Just blame it on us. Say we dared you to do it or something."
"Then won't you guys get in trouble?" Miranda points out.
Sherman grins widely. "Sounds like a good plan."
"Chiron loves us," one says with a flippant wave of his hand.
The other nodding with the same flippant attitude. "He lets us get away with so much."
"No, I do not!" Chiron announces from his head table, affronted, his horse tail swishing back and forth, "And I'm surprised at how bold you two are, making such statements when I'm right here. I've only been away for a few days and you two are more wilder than ever."
"Eh. Think of it as a warning."
They shrug as they say it and the tone is so friendly, it can almost be considered trivial. But the sharp glints in their eyes, the eerie fervidity in those blue irises, the unnerving way they're staring at the other tables as if daring them to go ahead and try anything. She blames Malcolm for the comparison but it's like they're a pair of Great Pyrenees, protecting their herd of sheep from the coyotes.
Luke never did that for any of them.
She grins and even starts to laugh, but she manages to hide it by pretending to sip her cup.
"That's the first time you ever smiled, Celise," Malcolm notes, taking a bite of his egg pudding as Sherman stands with both feet on the dining bench and throws a can of coke at the Apollo table. It never makes contact. Michael with perfect precision throws his butter knife at the incoming projectile. They both clatter loudly on the marble floor.
"What," Michael begins, standing to his full height of 4 feet, eye twitching, "the fuck is your problem, Sherman?"
Lee grabs Michael by the hem of his shirt like he's scared that Michael will pounce over the table and start another brawl. He's furiously chewing his chicken wrap, swallowing too early and nearly choking until Will hits his back hard.
"Travis and Connor made me do it," Sherman announces gleefully with a wolfish grin, unbothered by the failure.
"Mr. Yang," Chiron sighs, "Do you seriously think I can't see this is a clear attempt to get your counselors in trouble? Please apologize to — Mr. Yew!"
Michael hops on top of his cabin's table with a plunger instead of an arrow nocked in his bow. He aims at Sherman. Lee dives for and misses the plunger, the bathroom helper zooming for Sherman's clueless face.
One of the Stoll brothers pulls Sherman down by the back of his shirt. The other brother jumps to his feet smoothly and pulls out a bronze shield even faster, the plunger thumping onto the shield instead of Sherman. That brother smiles smugly over the rim of the shield.
"Aw, so close Mikey. If only you — ack!"
More plungers embed themselves into the shield, the speed and force of them nearly knocking Travis or Connor over. Sherman laughs behind the shield, smirking like he was the one to actually block the attack and not their counselor.
Michael clicks his tongue and lets himself be pulled down by Lee, muttering under his breath, "Next time I'll get him for sure."
Fight back, they had said.
She swallows her nerves and stops crouching, standing with a hand on her hip as she looks down at her handiwork in trepidation. Beside her Sherman is nodding his head in approval with a thumbs up.
Stop holding it in.
She looks at the time. They should be finishing up the game of volleyball with Annabeth soon. Any minute now they'll be back to the cabin.
Just go feral.
Their front door opens.
"That's them!" Sherman hisses in excitement, ducking behind a bunk bed frame.
Whatever happens, happens, she reasons and tosses the empty canister of shaving cream onto the bed. It rolls to a stop next to the shoes.
One of them enters the room then the other, both laughing about something. They freeze when they spot her standing beside their bunk beds. She takes a deep breath, heart pounding in her chest. They asked for this, she reminds herself as Travis and Connor come close enough to see a pair of shoes, one of Travis's and one of Connor's, sitting on their bedsheets filled to the brim with shaving cream.
"That's for last summer," she declares loudly as she points a finger at them. The grin that comes is unexpected, but she lets it be, "Payback sure tastes bitter, doesn't it?"
Travis and Connor blink owlishly at her.
Then the corners of the mouth turn upwards, the familiar smiles crooked and lopsided as ever. One laughs and elbows his brother in the arm. The other picks up the pair of shoes on their bed and examines it with a fond, amused chuckle.
"I knew it! That very first week when we filled your shoes with shaving cream, you were furious back then, weren't you?" one exclaims with a delighted gleam in his eyes.
"I was livid," she agrees.
"Irate," the one with shoes says, passing one of them to his brother, "Is a synonym for livid. It also means 'very angry'."
The other brother takes the offered shoe with a puzzled expression, taking a quick glance at it before laughing harder. "Oh my gods. You got the wrong shoes. These are Sherman's."
"What?! No. These are definitely —" Sherman stands from behind the bunk bed and snatches the shoes from both Travis and Connor's hands, bringing the shoes up to his face. It's the standard shoes given to all yearrounders and those who unfortunately lose their original pairs during camp activities. A nice, simple red and white Converse. Sherman checks the name written in Sharpie on the white midsole, squinting several times and swiping a thumb along the name before looking back up at her with a scowl. "You filled the wrong shoes, Celise."
"You filled it with me," she fires back, "You didn't recognize your own shoes? It has your name right there."
"I thought it said Stoll! I have dyslexia, you know."
"And so do I."
As she argues some more with Sherman over who is at fault, Travis and Connor each pat her back with ear-splitting grins.
"Well, either way, good job!" one congrats her.
"Yeah! Glad to see you breaking out of your shell," the other says.
Their praises ring in her ears and her face reddens. She's glad Sherman is distracting the cabin by going on a wild scavenger hunt for Travis and Connor's shoes, flipping mattresses over and feeling along the walls for secret compartments.
They're not so bad as counselors. They might even be as good as Luke was, she thinks with the beginnings of another smile.
Before she knows it, summer is ending. In a couple of days, she'll be leaving for home and going back to school. Already, some campers are gone and the almost suffocatingly full cabin is now semi-empty. Before she leaves for school, one of her counselors hands her back her stack of SAT study packets. But it's suspiciously lighter than before.
"We sorted through and removed any topics that won't be covered," one of the brothers explains.
"Huh?"
The other one nods. "Travis and I went to take the SAT. There's no calculus on it whatsoever. So rejoice, I guess. You definitely struggled on all those calculus problems. Which makes sense because calculus is taught to seniors and juniors, Miss Overachiever."
She blinks and tries to find the words to explain the sudden warmth in her chest. They didn't have to do that, but they did. They really went above and beyond for her.
"Thank you," she manages to choke out. She hides her face by taking as much time as she can shoving the papers into her backpack. "I really appreciate all the help."
They beam at the same time and say in unison, "Anytime."
About two weeks later when she already departed the camp, the brothers Iris-Message her their results. Perfect score in writing. And nearly perfect for mathematics and English.
Travis is holding the papers up for her to see as he goes over what the setting was like so she knows what to expect.
Celise tries to pay attention but in the background, she can see Annabeth seething and Connor gloating.
Apparently, she had gone to take the SAT with them too. Perfect score in mathematics. But her writing and English were not as good. Above average, yes. But not higher than Travis's and Connor's.
"It's the dyslexia!" Annabeth argues. "I was struggling to read those excerpts and it took up too much time. Towards the end, I had to rush and guess on a couple."
"This is still remarkably good, Annabeth," Thalia Grace, formerly a pine tree, praises. The daughter of Zeus has bags packed beside her and Celise vaguely remembers Travis and Connor whining over how Annabeth isn't staying at camp post-summer this year too. She's going to an all-girls boarding school with Thalia in Brooklyn.
It's going to be so boring with her not around to bother, she recalled one of them complaining.
Don't worry. I'll be here, Sherman had said after.
But you're not Annabeth, both brothers said together.
The following pillow fight resulted in a hole in the roof.
Thalia looks at Annabeth's results a bit more. "This is a lot better than most people your age can do. Actually, a lot better than most high schoolers."
But Annabeth always the perfectionist shakes her head. "Connor did it better than me! First archery and now this? I call bullshit. You cheated somehow. It's a hack in of itself to have your parent be the god of writing, language, and speech."
"It's called studying, Anniebeth," Connor gloats with the smuggest smile she has ever seen on anyone. "What can I say?"
"Then you two should have gotten perfect scores."
"Then who would have taken care of the monster in the testing center? You?"
Annabeth scowls and crosses her arms. "Yes. I would have… after I finished the exam."
"The exam would have been canceled if you did that," Connor says dryly.
"Well, good thing you and Travis handled it."
"And yet, even with our split focus, we still manage to do better than you," Connor says back to gloating.
Annabeth stifles a groan, teeth chewing into her cheeks as she picks up her bags. "Fine. I'll admit you won this round. But just wait. I'll top your score before next summer comes around. Count on it."
Summer 2008
Celise steps into the cabin to find Miranda and Malcolm no longer in Hermes's Cabin but in Demeter and Athena respectively. Sherman is still here, but he doesn't look bothered about being stuck in this cabin for another summer (or more.) He's in a game of poker with one of the Stoll brothers, still with his heart on his sleeve.
The other Stoll brother sees her enter and grabs her, introducing her to each of the new campers this year.
Kayla, a girl with auburn hair and green tips excitedly hopping up and down, wooing over how this camp with all its physical commodities will be a great stepping stone to her path to the Olympics.
Austin, a boy with cornrows lugging a saxophone case with both hands, a giddy grin as he exclaims that the amphitheather has the perfect acoustic for his new Youtube channel.
Holly and Laurel, identical twins in a game of rock-paper-scissors to see who will win top bunk versus bottom bunk.
And Callie, a little girl, 6 years old at most, weaving through the cabin and in between legs, stopping right in front of her with the brightest smile.
"Hi!" Callie squeaks, "How do you tell Travis and Connor apart?"
"Huh?"
The brother she's with laughs. "Don't mind her. She's been asking everyone that."
"How do you tell Travis and Connor apart?" Callie repeats, bouncing on her heels.
"Well, Travis is a bit taller than Connor—" she begins the usual spiel but Callie pouts and shakes her head.
"But what if they're not next to each other? How do you tell then?"
"Good point. Hm," Celise crosses her arms and studies the brother in front of her. She squints her eyes and leans closer, but she's clueless. There's no physical way to tell them apart. At least, not one she can see. In the past, Luke mentioned their eyes being different. She never saw it. Annabeth just naturally knows which one is which somehow. Her though, she always relied on those study sessions. Connor teaches her math and Travis teaches her English. Without those then she can't — unless…
"SAT," she says.
The brother in front of her blinks and tilts his head in confusion with a clueless smile.
The brother playing with Sherman cusses and tosses his cards down, bounding up to her with a heated expression. "Annabeth retook the SAT and she aced it. It's back to the studying grind, Celise. I'm getting a perfect score this time around."
Celise glances down at her newest cabinmates and juts a thumb at Connor. "That's how."
"What is a S-A-T?" Callie asks, but Clovis enters the cabin and Callie rushes over to him with a gleam in her eyes, dragging Travis and Connor along with her by the hands.
She watches the trio leave her and sets her bag on the floor as she looks for a free bed or spot for her sleeping bag.
Another summer, another year in the Hermes Cabin, she thinks, glancing at the air above her for some kind of sign. There's nothing, but she's not bothered by it. She's positive at this point her mother or father is the god of something insignificant. She'll still end up staying in this cabin either way in the end.
Hopefully this year it's not as crazy as last year, she prays.
Then the labyrinth is discovered.
There's going to be a battle.
Chiron is organizing them into areas.
She and most of her cabinmates are stationed with Apollo's cabin amongst the trees. She holds the bow loose in her hand as she watches campers scurry around. She is down on the ground compared to up in the trees. All of Apollo's children are perched on the branches along with the dryads. Probably for the best. She's not that good with a bow and arrow. There are a couple of her cabinmates up there too. Connor and Clovis are some of the few she sees.
"Where's Callie by the way," she asks offhandedly as she watches Clovis turn a very worrying shade of white. He's going to throw up, isn't he? Maybe it's for the best that he's up there and far away from any enemies.
"In the cabin. I have the TV blasting Spongebob right now," Travis said a few feet down from her, also on the ground. He's stretching, twirling his arms in wheels and then crouching to extend his legs. "I have the best episode on. Guess which one."
"That's good," she murmurs as she turns her gaze back to the entrance of the labyrinth, not intending to comment any further. But that never stops Travis from talking before and it doesn't now.
"Wanna take the SAT this summer?" Travis asks with a forced grin, undeterred by her lack of engagement. "We can have Beckendorf drive you to the center."
"I'd rather take it back home. I can actually get a good night's sleep there."
"I guess that makes sense," Travis says, folding his arms across his chest. "You think you're ready?"
"Yeah, I think I'm ready enough."
A beat of silence passes before Travis speaks again.
"Are you scared?"
Celise wonders if Travis meant for this coming battle or for the SAT. Either way, she supposes her answer can be for both.
"You and Connor taught me well." She rearranges her grip on her bow and wipes the sweat on her shirt where Travis can't see. "I'm not scared at all."
And in response, Travis's grin tightens before he goes back to looking at the entrance with her. "That's great. Let me know how you do. If your scores are as good as Annabeth's, I think Connor would like to gloat some more."
The battle begins.
The giants destroy Ares's Cabin formation. She fires her arrows one after the other, at least one managing to vaporize a giant. More enemies crawl out of the labyrinth. She continues to fire her arrows, but the front line is overwhelmed. Some dracaenae break through and come towards them. A child of Athena intercepts it and an arrow finishes the snake woman off. But the surroundings grow more chaotic by the moment. Someone sets fire to the trees and the archers and dryads abandon their posts.
It's a free-for-all.
She fights for however long she can't tell. Long enough for her to start heaving, long enough for her arms to scream in agony.
She's not a great fighter by any means. But she knows enough to survive. She knows enough to not be a hindrance. Still, with all her time here, with all the practice she's done, she only ever trained to fight monsters. Not humans.
When she comes across her first enemy half-blood, she freezes. I know her, she realizes, staring at that familiar face, We were in the same cabin three years ago. We rode the pegasi together. You saved me when I almost fell over.
When that dagger comes towards her, she brings her sword up too late. It slices into her neck before she can block it. Self-perservation has her clamping a hand on her neck but blood leaks between her fingers. She pats her pocket for any ambrosia squares, but there's none. It's over. She's going to die.
If I'm going to die, then you're coming with me.
She jabs her sword into her ex-friend's stomach and tears it out sideways before falling to her knees, dizzy and light-headed. She desperately searches the enemy's bleeding body for any godly food but this person doesn't have any too and what a joke. She presses harder on her wound, but it's still gushing blood.
Her knees buckle and she falls over on her side.
It's cold, she realizes faintly. Even though I'm right under the sun, it's so cold.
Two voices scream her name and identical faces leer over her. Her vision is fading in and out. They're yelling at each other about something and that sight is disconcerting. Travis and Connor never yell. She saw them annoyed. She saw them irritated. But they never yell like they are now. They're never scared like they are now. Their words are a mumble jumble of noises she barely hears.
Where's your nectar. I ran out. The infirmary. No one is there. Go get Will or Lee. I don't know where they are.
One of them starts to cry. The other presses a hand tightly against her neck wound.
Warm, she thinks dimly, her own fingers weakly grasping her counselor's hand. He's so warm.
Her godly parents, whoever they might be, she knows they would have wanted her to remain dignified even while dying. Remain a warrior even while her life is seeping away. Remain a hero till her very last breath.
Go on. I'll be fine. Go save the others, is what she imagines a better version, a more braver version of her would say. That version would smile too. That version would never let the fear show on her face.
But she's not that person. She's not a hero or a warrior. She never wanted to be a demigod. She never wanted this life. She never wanted to be a part of this battle. She's only here out of obligation, out of necessity, out of the knowledge that if she doesn't fight right here, right now, then her friends and family will die.
She's not a good person. And she's not brave, not like Annabeth or Percy.
When a camper screams in pain nearby and Travis and Connor pull away to help them, she cries and digs her fingers weakly into the hand.
"Don't leave me please," she begs, the words faint, blood bubbling out of her lips.
It's selfish.
It's cruel.
Travis and Connor's face twists in pain.
The one crying buries his face in his hands and sobs. What should we do, Travis? She thinks she hears.
You're hurting them. But still she can't bring herself to do the right thing and just sent them on their way with a smile.
She doesn't want to die.
She doesn't want to die alone.
Even if it means them being here means they can't help others, even if that means someone dies because of her, she can't make herself pretend to be brave.
She reads the lips more than hears the words. Go, Connor. I'll be there soon. Celise doesn't have long.
Connor's face crumbles, but he's nodding, scrubbing an arm across his face to wipe away the tears before taking off. She clings to Travis's warm hand still on her neck. He's not crying like Connor did. He's even trying to smile and from the looks of his lips, even trying to make a joke. But the dull smile Travis gives her, tight and strained, does nothing to hide his misery and grief.
I'm sorry, she wants to say. I'm scared and it hurts and I'm pitiful, I know. Just go if you really have to.
But Travis stays by her side and even holds her hands with his free one. He's talking. She doesn't understand what he's talking about. But Travis talks and talks and talks, his voice a steady and strong buzz in the background.
Her vision fades in and out.
Travis's curly hair and blue eyes become a blur before disappearing into darkness entirely.
His voice fades too, bit by bit.
They're nothing like Luke, she thinks in her last few seconds of consciousness.
Luke wouldn't have cried.
Luke wouldn't have stayed by her side.
A drop of water splashes on her cheek. A wobbly voice floats to her, so faint she thinks she imagines it.
"I'm sorry."
But it's best they're not like Luke.
Luke never cared the way Travis and Connor did.
Her fingers squeeze the hand holding hers.
She musters whatever strength she has left and croaks, "It was fun. Thank you."
Author's notes:
Thank you for reading!
I finished book 2 and I love Calypso so much. She has so much sass and life. She's my new fav