(A/N: Sorry if this chapter is bad. I lost some motivation because I have an important assignment due tomorrow and have a exam this Wednesday so I'll be posting a bit slower this week)
Chapter six: Percy Jackson, supreme lord of the bathroom
Percy POV: The blonde girl I'd met at the Big House was reading a book in front of the last cabin (number 11) and Y/N sat beside her, talking about historical landmarks and stuff when we reached them. Annabeth looked me over critically, like she was still thinking about how much I drooled. Y/N didn't notice me—probably too engrossed in her conversation.
I tried to see what blondie was reading, but I couldn't make out the title. I thought my dyslexia was acting up. Then I realized the title wasn't even English. The letters looked Greek to me. I mean, literally Greek. There were pictures of temples and statues and different kinds of columns, like those in an architecture book.
"Annabeth, Y/N," Chiron said, "I have masters' archery class at noon. Would you take Percy from here?,"
"Yes, sir." Annabeth looked up from the novel, and the h/c haired girl turned her head and nodded, still talking.
"Cabin 11," Chiron turned back to me, gesturing toward the doorway. "Make yourself at home."
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Y/N POV: After Chiron bid him fairwell, Percy turned to the open doorway. Annabeth, looking paranoid (though I don't know the reason why) prompted Percy. "Well, go on." I'd forgotten that no one in the cabin knew Percy yet, and quickly added. "Percy Jackson, meet cabin 11." And naturally, he tripped and fell on his face.
A few snickered but no one said anything until voice spoke up from the crowd "Regular or undermined?,"
"Undetermined." The blonde girl causally stated as everyone groaned. This continued until Luke stepped forward and hushed everyone. Annabeth's attitude instantly changed and I snorted. "Now, now, campers. That's what we're here for. Welcome Percy. You can have that spot on the floor right there." He pointed towards one of the few empty spots on the ground.
"This is Luke." I swear Annabeth blushed. "Y/N's half sibling." She caught Percy looking at her flushed pink face, and her expression hardened. "He's your counselor for now."
"For now?" Percy repeated.
"You're undetermined," Luke explained, and I didn't know how a person could be this patient. "They don't know what cabin to put you in, so you're here. Cabin eleven takes all newcomers, all visitors. Naturally, we would. Hermes, our patron, is the god of travellers."
"How long will I be here?" He asked.
"Good question," Luke said. "Until you're determined."
"How long will that take?" The campers all laughed.
"Come on," Annabeth told him. "I'll show you the volleyball court."
"I've already seen it."
"Come on." She grabbed me and Percy's wrist and dragged us outside. I could hear the kids of cabin eleven laughing at Percy behind me.
When we were a few feet away, Annabeth said, "Jackson, you have to do better than that."
"What?"
She rolled her eyes and mumbled under her breath, "I can't believe I thought you were the one."
"What's your problem?" I silently agreed. For the first few chapters, Annabeth was a jerk, until her personality slowly morphed to be more likeable. Percy turned red with anger. "All I know is, I kill some bull guy—"
"Don't talk like that!" Annabeth told him. "You know how many kids at this camp wish they'd had your chance?,"
"To get killed?,"
"To fight the Minotaur! What do you think we train for?," She looked at me as if to say help me! This guy clearly does NOT understand!
He shook his head. "Look, if the thing I fought really was the Minotaur, the same one in the stories..."
"Yes."
"Then there's only one."
"Yes."
"And he died, like, a gajillion years ago, right? Theseus killed him in the labyrinth. So ..."
"Monsters don't die, Percy. They can be killed. But they don't die." I interrupted their argument.
"Oh, thanks. That clears it up."
"They don't have souls, like you and me. You can dispel them for a while, maybe even for a whole lifetime if you're lucky. But they are primal forces. Chiron calls them archetypes. Eventually, they re-form." Annabeth concluded my statement.
I knew he was thinking about Mrs. Dodds. "You mean if I killed one, accidentally, with a sword-"
"The Fur ... I mean, your math teacher. That's right. She's still out there. You just made her very, very mad."
"How did you know about Mrs. Dodds?"
"You talk in your sleep, and Y/N was very specific with the details when she was explaining her time at Yancy to me."
"You almost called her something. A Fury? They're Hades' torturers, right?"
Annabeth glanced nervously at the ground, as if she expected it to open up and swallow her. I put the conversation back on track. "You shouldn't call them by name, even here. We call them the Kindly Ones, if we have to speak of them at all."
"Look, is there anything we can say without it thundering?" He sounded whiny, like a kid complaining to the teacher about not having a turn on the swing at recess.
"Why do I have to stay in cabin eleven, anyway? Why is everybody so crowded together? There are plenty of empty bunks right over there."
He pointed to the first few cabins, and Annabeth turned pale, and I explained "You don't just choose a cabin, Percy. It depends on who your parents are. Or ... your parent."
We stared at him, waiting for him to get it.
"My mom is Sally Jackson," I said. "She works at the candy store in Grand Central Station. At least, she used to."
I felt guilty and I guess Annabeth sensed my discomfort, because she took over from there. "I'm sorry about your mom, Percy. But that's not what I mean. I'm talking about your other parent. Your dad."
"He's dead. I never knew him."
Annabeth sighed. Clearly, she'd had this conversation before with other kids. "Your father's not dead, Percy."
"How can you say that? You know him?"
"No, of course not."
"Then how can you say-"
"Because I know you. You wouldn't be here if you weren't one of us." "You don't know anything about me."
I watched their interaction like a table tennis match.
"No?" She raised an eyebrow. "I bet you moved around from school to school. I bet you were kicked out of a lot of them."
"How-"
"Diagnosed with dyslexia. Probably ADHD, too."
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"Taken together, it's almost a sure sign. The letters float off the page when you read, right? That's because your mind is hardwired for ancient Greek. And the ADHD-you're impulsive, can't sit still in the classroom. That's your battlefield reflexes. In a real fight, they'd keep you alive. As for the attention problems, that's because you see too much, Percy, not too little. Your senses are better than a regular mortal's. Of course the teachers want you medicated. Most of them are monsters. They don't want you seeing them for what they are."
"You sound like ... you went through the same thing?"
"Most of the kids here did. If you weren't like us, you couldn't have survived the Minotaur, much less the ambrosia and nectar."
"Ambrosia and nectar." Percy sounded skeptical.
"The food and drink we were giving you to make you better. That stuff would've killed a normal kid. It would've turned your blood to fire and your bones to sand and you'd be dead. Face it. You're a half-blood."
I was about to fetch some popcorn when a husky voice yelled, "Well! A newbie!" A big girl who I assume is Clarisse walked up to us with 3 more of her siblings.
"Clarisse," Annabeth sighed. "Why don't you go polish your spear or something?"
"Sure, Miss Princess," the big girl said. "So I can run you through with it Friday night."
"Erre es korakas!" Annabeth said, which I somehow understood was Greek for 'Go to the crows!' Though I had a feeling it was a worse curse than it sounded. I tried to summon my inner niceness—remembering Clarrise's backstory that was mentioned briefly during the second book. "Look Clarisse." I bit back a snarky remark. "How about me and Annabeth continue Percy's tour and you could have more time preparing for capture the flag on Friday!," Annabeth looked at me as if saying when did you become nice?
"We'll pulverize you," Clarisse laughed.
"You don't stand a chance." Annabeth smirked, draining away my efforts of being kind to the camo jacket wearing girl.
"Oh really?," The daughter of Ares sneered, but her eye twitched.
Then, she turned towards Percy. "Who's this little runt?"
"Percy Jackson," Annabeth said, "meet Clarisse, Daughter of Ares." He blinked, looking confused. "Like ... the war god?,"
Clarisse sneered again. "You got a problem with that?,"
"No," Percy said, recovering his wits. "It explains the bad smell."
Clarisse growled. "We got an initiation ceremony for newbies, Prissy."
"Percy." He corrected.
"Whatever. Come on, I'll show you."
"Clarisse-" Annabeth tried to say.
"Stay out of it, wise girl."
Annabeth looked pained, but she did stay out of it, and Percy looked like he didn't really want her help.
He handed Annabeth the minotaur horn and got ready to fight, but before he knew it, Clarisse had Percy by the neck and was dragging him towards the bathroom.
He was kicking and punching. She dragged him into the girls' bathroom. Clarisse's friends were all laughing now.
"Like he's 'Big Three' material," Clarisse said as she pushed Percy toward one of the toilets. "Yeah, right. Minotaur probably fell over laughing, he was so stupid looking." Her friends snickered.
Annabeth stood in the corner, watching through her fingers, while I leaned on the door, ready to sprint out of there when the toilets explode, but also having a clear view of Clarisse getting beat up by the sewer water.
Clarisse bent him onto his knees and started pushing Percy's head toward the toilet bowl. If I was sitting, then I would have been on the edge.
I heard the plumbing rumble, the pipes shudder. Clarisse's grip on Percy's hair loosened. I bolted. Water shot out of the toilet, making an arc straight over Percy's head, and the next thing I knew, Clarisse was screaming mess—dripping toilet water.
I ran out the door again as water blasted out of the toilet for a second time, hitting Clarisse straight in the face so hard it pushed her down onto her butt. The water stayed on her like the spray from a fire hose, pushing her backward into a shower stall.
She struggled, gasping, and her friends started coming toward her. I was about to come back in, when I sprinted out of the way as the other toilets exploded too, and six more streams of toilet water blasted them back. The showers acted up too, and together all the fixtures sprayed the camouflage girls right out of the bathroom—10 or so inches away from me—spinning them around like pieces of garbage being washed away.
The entire bathroom was flooded. Annabeth hadn't been spared. She was dripping wet, but she hadn't been pushed out the door. She was standing in exactly the same place, staring at Percy in shock.
He looked down and realized he was sitting in the only dry spot in the whole room. There was a circle of dry floor around me. Percy didn't have one drop of water on his clothes. Nothing.
Annabeth said, "How did you ..."
"I don't know."
They walked to the door and took in the scenery. Clarisse and her friends were sprawled in the mud, and a bunch of other campers had gathered around to gawk. Clarisse's hair was flattened across her face. Her camouflage jacket was sopping and she smelled like sewage. She gave Percy a look of absolute hatred. "You are dead, new boy. You are totally dead."
"You want to gargle with toilet water again, Clarisse? Close your mouth." He sassed. Her friends had to hold her back. They dragged her toward cabin five, while the other campers made way to avoid her flailing feet.
Annabeth stared at him.
"What?" He demanded. "What are you thinking?,"
"I'm thinking," she said, "that I want you on my team for capture the flag."