Indigo Eyes

Chapter 4

"Just one more thing to say," he announced, and her body deflated.

"Of course, you do."

"I just think that it's fair if I tell you about me since you told me about you."

"I already know everything about you," she cut in and he raised a brow.

"Do you now?"

"Your full name is Perseus Jackson. You're the son of Poseidon. Your mother married your stepfather to mask your demigod scent from monsters, and anyone who willingly smells that foul is probably a foul person in general. You have trouble reading, meaning you're dyslexic and hardwired to read Ancient Greek. You hate sitting still or constantly need something to fidget with, you have ADHD, meaning you have natural battle reflexes. Both of that together means that you probably bounced around from school to school a lot, it was easier to make enemies than it was to make friends. However, you are extremely loyal to the friends you do have, and especially to your mother who is probably the only person who's ever been there for you your entire life. A life that was recently uprooted much like every other demigod in this country," she recited rather quickly and Percy's only mouth only hung open.

"How-How did -"

"Combination of reading people and actually being able to listen when people speak," she sassed and now Percy was the one to roll his eyes. "And you're pretty easy to read."

"I don't know if I should be offended by that," Percy admitted and Cressida smirked.

"I wouldn't take it too personally," she said before growing another grapevine, this time plucking the grapes off to eat.

"Can I have some?" he asked, and she shrugged.

"Knock yourself out," she said as she waved her hand and the vine grew more grapes as Cressida pulled out a small switchblade from her back pocket as she cut them off and tossed them towards him.

"These are good," Percy said after slipping a couple of the fat red grapes into his mouth.

"Of course, they're good. Only the best for my father's wine. Not that he can make it now."

It was silent between the two of them for a while as they ate before Percy broke the silence, once again.

"Can I ask one more thing?"

She sighed again as she twisted two grapes in the palm of her hand. "You can ask, can't promise I'll answer."

"Why do you hate everyone at camp?"

Her jaw tightened as the hand lifting the grapes to her mouth froze. "I told you," she said, staring at the fire as she lowered her hand. "Ask Annabeth. She thinks she knows." She sank the vine back into the ground and threw the grapes down on her blanket at stood. "I'm going to take a walk, make sure nothing's out there."

And that was the only explanation she gave before walking off into the darkness, the glint of the firelight on her switchblade the only indication of her position until she closed it.

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Cressida didn't end up sleeping until the next day. Grover had gotten up for his shift and surprisingly had been good company, and when he'd gone off in search of food and in a general checking on the surrounding area, he came back with a poodle. A bright pink, fuzzy poodle named Gladiola.

And Gladiola pointed them in the direction of an Amtrack station with a train westbound that leaves at noon.

They spent two days on that train. Cressida passed out for one of them. When she did wake, she delved into the second bag of chips that she had as she distracted herself by reading another one of the books her brothers had given her, trying to fight her way through her dyslexia to get to the little message her brothers always wrote on the back page or the back cover. And she could tell that Annabeth was supremely jealous of the fact that she didn't have a book though. Even if the one that she was reading was about a group of boys locked in an inescapable maze.