Chapter Six

School ended today.

Nico and Adrestia, backpacks slung over their shoulders and luggage sitting in front of them, waited for their bus outside the station. They stayed in the shade, avoiding the sun's piercing gaze. Adrestia leans against the wall beside her older brother, arms crossed over her white tank top. Nico wears the usual: black. His hands are stuffed into his jeans, his mind keeping him occupied with Mythomagic details while his sister wonders if Orthrus is mad at her for going away. The two stand far from the others, features taut and broody.

They didn't have to look. They could sense the soon-to-be passenger's distrust of them, that they were ready to dial 911 the moment they did anything illegal.

A light breeze ruffles Adrestia's hair, and she lowers her head. "I'm sorry for being the reason you have to change schools," she says, her sincerity clear in her soft voice and the way she avoids his eyes. She winces. "Again."

The brief silence that follows gives Adrestia the urge to enter the station and grab a chocolate bar from the vending machine, if only to get away from the awkwardness of the situation. Her hand reaches for her pendant – she pauses. She still didn't have her pendant.

Nico finally speaks, his shoulders rising and falling in a nonchalant shrug. "S'okay. That school was filled with too many rich assholes anyway."

Adrestia visibly relaxes, closing her eyes as she soundlessly sighs in relief. After a moment, she tilts her head in his direction. "Aren't we rich assholes?"

Nico meets her gaze. "How are we rich?"

"Well, your dad is, and mom said mine was too."

Nico scoffs in contempt, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. "Your dad is an entitled deadbeat–"

Adrestia frowns. "What makes you think he was entitled?"

"He left our mom right after she got pregnant with you," he exclaims in outrage, keeping his voice low as he leans in. Nico's face is tight, lips pressed into an unforgiving line. "Just hopped onto a boat and left – didn't tell her where he was going, didn't leave her money, and I'm pretty sure he only got lost because he thought he was too important to learn how to drive a fucking boat. He didn't even want anyone to know they were together. To him, an expedition was more important than our mom, than you." Nico points at her.

Adrestia can see the unshed tears glimmering in his eyes, the thinly veiled rage as he clenches his fist and lowers it to his side. She slowly nods her head. "And he broke our mom's heart doing it."

Nico nods in return, jaw ticking. "At least, my dad tries to know what's happening in our lives. And he told me he's going to get your pendant back."

Her brows furrow, head pushing back as curiosity flickers in her eyes. "How?"

"I don't know, but he wanted me to tell you since you wouldn't answer his calls."

The judging look from her brother sends a faint tinge of blush across her sun-kissed cheeks. "I thought he was going to give me a lecture," Adrestia murmurs.

With a deadpan look, Nico leans against the wall, head tilted back. "He only does that when you get in trouble with the law."

"Hey guys." Adrestia and Nico turn their heads to see Grover with his backpack over his shoulder, suitcase beside him, and a sheepish smile that reaches his eyes. "Guess we're going home on the same bus, huh?"

Nico and Adrestia share a look – they grab their bags and move to the other side of the waiting area.

~~~~~~~ On the Bus ~~~~~~~

Nico and Adrestia take their seats at the back of the bus, setting their backpacks in front of them. Peering out of the corner of their eye, they could see Grover pondering the idea of sitting next to them. He decides to sit a few rows in front of them.

"Faresti meglio a stare lontano, traditore," Nico mutters bitterly under his breath. Rough translation: You fuckin' better stay away, traiter.

"What luck," Adrestia whispers sarcastically, slouching in her seat. "He's on the same bus as us. I'm pretty sure he doesn't even live near us."

Nico crosses his arms, putting on his 'I don't care' face. "If he comes over here, ignore him."

For the entire bus ride, Adrestia couldn't help but notice how nervous Grover was, how he continuously looked up and down the aisle and studied the other passengers. She nudges Nico, tilting her head towards Grover. He watches for several minutes, curiosity twinkling in his dark eyes. The two recalled how fidgety and nervous he'd get anytime they left Yancy Academy, as if he expected something bad to happen. They always thought Grover had been worried about getting teased, maybe even a little paranoid, but there was no one to tease him on the Greyhound.

Curiosity getting the better of her, Adrestia stands – a surge of adrenaline rushes through her veins as she's thrown back in her seat, crying out in surprise as her hand shoots out to grab the headrest in front of her.

The bus had come to an abrupt, grinding stop before sputtering along the road. Black smoke poured from the dashboard, encasing the entire bus with a rotten egg-like smell. Curses fly out of the driver's mouth, and he pulls over on the side of the highway.

"You okay?" Nico asks, failing to hold back his laughter.

"Shut up." Adrestia shoots him a glare, sitting up in her seat and letting go of the headrest.

After a few minutes of clanking around in the engine compartment, the driver announces that they all have to get off the bus. Grabbing their backpacks and hauling them over their shoulder, Nico and Adrestia are the last ones off the bus. Once outside, they take a sip of their water and study their surroundings.

They were on a stretch of country road. On their side were large maple trees and litter from passing cars. Although Adrestia could swear she heard low growling coming from deep within the grove of maple, as well as something glinting out of the corner of her eye. On the other side of the four-laned highway was an old-fashioned fruit stand selling heaping boxes of blood-red cherries and apples, walnuts and apricots, and jugs of cider in a claw-foot tub full of ice.

Adrestia and Nico noticed the lack of customers, as well as the three old ladies knitting the largest pair of socks they'd ever seen in a rocking chair under the shade of a maple tree. Nico's brows furrowed in confusion as Adrestia wracks her brain to find out who needed socks the size of sweaters. Godzilla or the Sasquatch?

One on the right knitted one of them, the one on the left knitted the other, and the one in the middle held an enormous basket of electric-blue yarn. They looked ancient, with pale faces wrinkled like fruit leather, silver hair tied back in white bandanas, and bony arms sticking out of bleached cotton dresses.

Strangely, Nico and Adrestia couldn't shake the feeling that the old women were staring straight at them.