Discolored

2: I Better Get Invited to the Wedding

"Oh, uh, hello! I'm, uh, just about to go into this cabin. Back home. Through the back—uh, through the back window. Because that's what Apollo kids do. It's...a tradition. Sacred."

That is the stupidest thing I've ever heard in my entire life. Is this his attempt at lying? I almost want to let him have this one, just for the sake of flaming the fire of someone's first rebellious act. If the camp healer is about to have an emo phase where he sneaks around in hoodies and sulks in the woods or something, then cheers—I might as well help him along.

"I don't have enough hours in a day to spend time dealing with this," I tell him. Except that if I'm helping him by not questioning his suspicious behavior, maybe he can help me by telling me what extroverted people normally do at social events. Maybe he can help me not make a fool of myself. I peek around a cabin to look at the fire. Gray flames lick the air, reaching upward and upward and disappearing. Campers are laughing and telling stories, and the whole thing looks so incredibly uncomfortable that I'm about to turn back around and tell the Aphrodite kids that the soulmates can figure it out for themselves.

But this tugging feeling in my gut isn't going away.

"Do you go to a lot of these? How does it...work?" I ask the healer.

"You're asking the worst person," he laughs. "Anyway. I guess, I'll, uh. Well, I'll just be going."

I wave him off and say goodbye. Great. Not even the extroverts know how to handle the campfire scene, then. I am royally screwed. I am almost certainly going to mess this up and wish I would have just stayed in my cabin tonight. I should turn around right now.

I want to go. I do.

But something tells me I really need to stay.

The healer is trying to get into his cabin through the back window, but it's locked. This is the most stupid thing ever. He could have just told me what he was actually doing, and he wouldn't have to go through all of this. But I forgive him because of his pretty curls and nervous smile.

"Huh," he mutters, and his nervous smile has turned into one of relief. "Well, I guess I'll have to break the tradition. The window is locked."

Oh, no. He's not getting away with this so easily. This is way too funny to let him get off the hook with a locked window.

"Oh, the camp windows' locks can be picked," I offer with an artificially friendly tone. "Want help?" And before he has the chance to tell me not to, I'm at his cabin window picking the lock. His face is a little darker than it was before—from embarrassment? I'll leave him here after I pick the lock, then. I didn't mean to actually embarrass him; I just feel very strongly about encouraging rebellious phases.

I pick the lock with a rodent bone, and he's staring at me. Possibly judging me for knowing how to pick a lock in the first place. The thing is, I spent so long living anywhere except camp that it was a skill I had to learn. If you're going everywhere except the place that you're allowed to be, there will be many locks in your way.

I get the window open. "Great. Now you don't have to admit you lied about planning to climb through this window. You have fun with that—I'm going to the fire."

And this time I really mean it. My gut doesn't usually lie to me—clearly, something is going to happen at this campfire. Maybe a fight will break out, and they'll need me here to help. If something happens because I wasn't there to help—

Well. I'm not going to let that happen, so here I am. Ready to defend the camp against a monster or something.

I find Piper and sit with her—she had been so pushy about making sure I would be here tonight, so she gets to deal with sitting next to me at an event where I am way out of my element.

"Hey!" she greets, and she's grinning at me. "You came!"

"I almost didn't," I admit. "You owe me big-time. This is already awful. We're surrounded."

Piper laughs. "By friends, not by monsters. Try to enjoy it!"

We really are surrounded though. There are people everywhere—how does anyone enjoy this? It's crowded and loud, and I think I'm only going to last about five minutes before the noisiness drives me to homicide.

The healer is peeking out of his cabin, and I realize he's trying to get over here without being noticed. I have no idea why he was so secretive about this—he must really be a goody-two-shoes if sneaking off to a campfire that he's encouraged to attend is his idea of something to lie about.

It's a little amusing how seriously he's taking this. Was he given a mission by the Aphrodite kids too—does that explain the strange behavior?

I decide to help him even if this isn't my idea of a rebellion. I point in the opposite direction and yell, "Woah, what's that over there!" It's a stupid trick, but it works almost every time with demigods—it's better to look and laugh it off if it's a trick than to not look and get mauled. And as expected, it works even better today because it's dark—no one can see far enough to determine immediately if I was messing with them. Also, I'm me, and I am generally not the type to get the attention of the entire group unless there is something about to kill us all.

Will rushes over and takes a seat by himself. He seemed to pick one at random—so, probably not sent here by the Aphrodite kids. They're way too careful to have one of their pawns do something random. So he just thinks he's being rebellious then.

My cheeks are a little pink because I'm trying to convince myself that that's not cute.

They start singing, and it's a love song—almost certainly requested in advance by the Aphrodite kids. I don't know why they're so dedicated to things like this—what if someone doesn't even want to meet their soulmate? To be honest, I don't really want to meet mine.

I don't think I probably have a soulmate anymore. I spent decades inside that Lotus Hotel—if my soulmate ever existed, they're elderly now, if they're even still alive. And the issue of my sexuality raises some issues with finding a soulmate too. I've never met a woman that attracted me—is it possible I could somehow end up with a woman as my soulmate anyway? And what if my soulmate is a guy? I am not nearly ready to accept that yet.

Besides, there's nothing wrong with monochrome. People always tell me I don't know what I'm missing out on with colors, and I always roll my eyes and tell them I guess I'll never know.

I don't think I want to ever know.

I throw a twig in the fire. They're singing about polar opposites falling in love—definitely not coincidental.

Piper stops singing when she notices the tension in my shoulders and jaw. Her eyebrows pinch together, worried. "Are you okay, Neeks?"

"I'm fine," I grumble. Nothing like considering the possibility that my soulmate is ninety years old to make you want to be at a social event.

"Are you sure? You look kind of sick."

I was starting to get a headache from all the loud singing and yelling and cheering and laughing. I should not have come. Screw love. What's so great about it anyway? For me, it has only ever resulted in anxiety. I do feel kind of sick now.

This is going to be a long night.

I better be invited to the wedding when these soulmates meet because of me.

Hello everyone!

Here's a reminder to vote and comment on the chapter if you liked it; it helps me keep up the motivation to keep up my work on this story. It's easy to get burnt out on writing when I'm not sure whether or not people actually like it. I really do appreciate every time someone leaves some way for me to know they like the story :)

Word count: 2102 words