( five. )
❝ SHE WAS THE PRETTIEST HELL I HAVE EVER BEEN IN; I DIDN'T MIND BURNING AT A L L . ❞
GEORGIA WAS slapped in the face with ice cold water at 8:23 in the morning. She shot up, gasping at the frigid ice water soaking her pajamas, and then proceeded to jump out of bed to punch her brother, Simon, square in the face.
He yelped, cradling his bleeding, and hopefully broken, nose. Georgia looked like a sopping wet cat, no doubt, as she went to go change into clothes to start off her day.
"Georgia, we tried to wake you up!" Simon called after her, groaning as one of their siblings set his nose back into place. "You have a quest! You can't be late!"
She nearly stopped in her tracks. Right. She had to go on a quest to save Hera, Queen of the Gods, as well as her least favorite.
"I would've preferred you yanking me out of bed, but," she shrugged, "whatever."
She went into the bathroom to brush her teeth and decided to ask Lacy from the Aphrodite cabin to give her some Dutch braids. One of the things that bothered her the most about only having one arm was that she couldn't even do her hair on her own.
With a heavy sigh, Georgia went into her drawers, which seemed to be the perk of being the head counselor, and the only girl, you seemed to get more room for your things because everyone everyone just assumed you needed it.
She decided it would be safer not to wear a camp shirt, because monsters would be sure to spot four demigods flying through the air on whatever Leo came up with, and bright orange tended to stick out amongst a sky of blue.
She settled on an old NASA shirt she took from Silena, an old friend of hers, and some jeans, as well as some white converse. Just like a normal teenager, she thought. The thought comforted her for only a moment.
She put on her old Seattle Mariners cap, a gift she got from Clarisse for her eleventh birthday. She missed Seattle, and sometimes she wished she could go back. But with all the enemies she had, it would only get the ones she loved killed.
Satisfied, she picked up her drawstring bag, which she was glad she packed the night before, and said goodbye to her siblings.
She'd see them for a few seconds before she left, but she knew she'd be in worse spirits because currently, she was walking towards Cabin 10, also known as the place where supermodels go to die.
Cabin Ten made Georgia sick. It wasn't just the smell of dozens of designer perfumes wafting through the air, or the giggles of glee as new gossip was learned about, or even the pictures of sweaty celebrities they fawned over, but just the way their whole cabin was run like it was a dictatorship. Drew had them on the tightest leash, and it made Georgia angry to her very bones.