The Labyrinth // pjo

Chapter Two // Happy First Day of Summer Everybody

 Well. Percy was just as pissed with me as I was with him now.

In her blind annoyance, Annabeth had spilled that we had been in New York twice since we had left for San Francisco.

"WHAT THE HELL, SALLY?!" Percy had snapped at him.

"WHAT THE HELL YOURSELF, PERCY!!" I had snarled back at him.

Meanwhile, Annabeth was just in general pissed with my brother, and then when he asked, "Any word from Luke?"

I almost strangled him.

Luke was a son of Hermes (as everyone knows). Annabeth had been a bit infatuated with him–not to mention he was the demigod who found her when she had run away from him when she was seven. Thalia Grace (Zeus's daughter turned Hunter of Artemis) had been with them, too, before she got turned into a tree until last winter.

But anyways, back to me almost killing Percy.

"Mount Tam is still overrun with monsters," Annabeth told him after shaking her head no. "I didn't dare go close, but I don't think Luke is up there. I think I would know if he was."

"What about Grover?" Percy asked.

"He's at camp," I begrudgingly responded, seeing Annabeth didn't feel like talking anymore. "We'll see him when we get there."

"Did he have any luck? I mean, with the search for Pan?"

Annabeth and I shared a glance, and the guilt for not telling Percy and Mom that I was in New York grew.

Sucking in a sharp breath, I rubbed my forehead and muttered, "You'll see, Perc."

I could feel his eyes on me–wanting me to elaborate, but when I didn't, he dropped the subject.

We reached Brooklyn relatively quickly, and Percy finally caved and asked for Annabeth's phone (which would normally be a big no-no because electronics like that plus half-bloods equals a huge-ass monster magnet, but Annabeth lived on the wild side) to call Mom.

I wanted to say hi too, but Percy left a message on our home voice mail and handed me the phone, to which I said, "I love you, Mom. See you soon. Tell Señor Pretty-Fish I said hello..."

In the short time that I knew Paul Blofis–he had become the father I never had.

I had my abuelo, sure, but I never had a dad.

And I would say that Chiron was a father figure too–but Paul felt like what a dad should be. He was kind and attentive to my rants about the classics and the heavy conflicts I felt about the divide of people in the world.

I mean, we had a whole debate on the schism of the Roman Catholic church at one point before we exploded in laughter and instead played nertz–a card game I had taught Percy and Mom before teaching Paul.

But he was just there for me and Percy and Mom.

Just like a good dad should have been.

And I swear the gods, if Percy effed this one up before he blew up Goode, I would throttle him. I doubted he did, but still.

We rode in silence after that, and I tapped my fingers rhythmically on my thigh in morse code to keep myself from falling asleep.

My sleep paralysis episodes had gotten better–they were still there as they weren't curable, but they were now few and far between because I was not stressed–well, now, I'm stressed, which kicked my anxiety about the episodes up. So no sleep for me for right now.