"I'll tell you," said she, in the same hurried passionate whisper, "what real love it. It is blind devotion, unquestioning self-humiliation, utter submission, trust and belief against yourself and against the whole world, giving up your whole heart and soul to the smiter - as I did!"
"Is that really what you're wearing?" I looked up from my book. I was arranged on my bed, knees pulled up with my book on my legs. I sighed, closing the book and setting it aside. Drew stood at the side of my bed, brown, scrutinizing eyes glaring down on me and face knit in a scowl.
It was early, earlier than most other cabins would be up. But this wasn't other cabins; this was Aphrodite, beauty queens galore. Currently, over half the cabin was already up, hours before most other would be awakening. One by one, they'd take their turns in the bathroom, each taking an hour and a half. Except Drew, of course, who would take an extra hour. Why people who woke up looking perfect needed so much time in the bathroom, I'd never understand.
Drew was still in her pajamas--silky blue tank top and matching drawstring pants--someone else currently occupying the bathroom.
Exerting another sigh, I stared down at my wardrobe choice for the day: white and green running shoes; light blue jeans; and a black V-neck. It was getting warmer, so I hadn't worn my normal white sweatshirt or a sweater. The rest of my outfit, though, was the usual.
I looked up to meet her eyes. "Drew," I began, my voice and expression emotionless if not tired, "I have worn the same type of thing every day since I've gotten here. Jeans, running shoes, and a T-shirt. This is what I like, and I have better things to do than spend an hour looking for an outfit and the following hour and a half in the bathroom. Can you move? You're blocking my reading light."
Drew's frown deepened, but she did not yet retort. At that moment, the bathroom door opened, and out walked an auburn haired girl. "Drew," she said, "bathroom's open."
Drew, although she had been waiting for this, didn't move, still looking at me. Finally, after what felt like hours but was probably minutes, she turned and started walking away, but not without a comment. "I can't believe you're a daughter of Aphrodite." She was mumbling, but it was clear she wanted me to hear.
Yeah. I can't believe it either.
After talking to Drew, I no longer felt like reading. Grabbing my old, worn-out copy of Great Expectations, I knelt by the side of my bed. Beneath it was a large suitcase. Although I had arrived at camp months prior to today, I never really moved in; everything was still in here, nicely fitting together. I had never even gone to get a weapon. My clothes was in neat stacks taking up about two third. In the other section was a currently empty spot where I put my book and a sketchpad, sets of colored and graphite pencils, and a mossy green messenger bag. Now, I replaced my book inside, then gathered up the art supplies and inserted them into the bag. I donned the bag, replacing the suitcase under my bed.
I didn't bother to tell anyone I was leaving as I left the cabin; they wouldn't really care either way. I went to take a run almost every morning. My route was never the same, but changed consistently, and allowed me to discover all the little places others might never find. Today, though, I had a particular destination. Although it was awkward to run with my bag, it was better than carrying my supplies myself. I started walking, then picked up speed until I was in a brisk jog, maneuvering around buildings and trees.
Soon enough, I had reached where I was going: the canoe lake. I dropped my bag down next a tree near the water, settling down underneath the shade of its branches. I took my sketchpad out from my bag and started flipping pages to get to my most recent one. The drawings I had done at first had no real pattern--I had done the high school, animals, landscapes, all sorts of things. Suddenly, I stopped, landing on a particular sketch. I swallowed, staring at it. To most people, it wouldn't have seemed like much; it was a detailed sketch of a park bench, the swing set and such smaller and more blurry in the background. But I remembered drawing it. I had gotten up early that day to do it, as the park was often occupied after school. I had been find when I did this picture, but the day that followed had been... less than pleasant.
"Hey, Melody." I recognized the voice behind me too well. How could I not? I had known that voice for years. But it was also the last person I wanted to ever see again, much less talk to. But, these things were always easier when I didn't try to run or fight it. So, I turned around. Just as I thought, he stood there, with another girl. He stood a few meet away. She, Vanessa, with her black pixie cut and pencil skirt, leaned on him. His arm was around her waist, her head on his shoulder.
Although he had been the one to speak, Vanessa was the one who spoke up now. "I wanted to ask you about business advice." I frowned, staring at her. Yeah, I was taking classes; I wanted to minor in it during college. But why would she care? Then I saw the twinkle in her eye, and I knew that whatever was happening wasn't good for me.
"You know," she continued, "since you're so successful." Now I was really lost.
Vanessa laughed, not the fake kind she used when she flirted. "Oh my God. You haven't seen them, have you?" She pretended like she was giving some effort to stifling her laughter. Then, she stood straight, reaching into a pocket on her skirt. She withdrew a piece of paper and, slowly, as if to build the suspense, undid each fold, then smoothed it. She flashed me a grin, handing it to me.
The second I saw it, my stomach dropped. Aside from the title--"OPEN FOR BUSINESS"--and print at the bottom, the whole sheet was taken up by a drawing... a drawing of me. It was crude. I had a big smile on my face, teeth and everything, but that wasn't the problem. The problem was my hands, which were at my sides--at my sides holding open my shirt, no bra covering me underneath.
I flushed. At the bottom, it said "For a good time, call 555-8269!" I didn't know how they had gotten my real number. There was a small hole at the top of the paper--it had been thumbtacked. It had probably been tacked to the announcement board... maybe there were copies all over school.
I quickly crumpled the paper, throwing it into the nearest trashcan as I turned to walk away. Tears were already forming against my will. Involuntarily, I crossed my arms over my chest, an act which Vanessa noticed.
"Oh, honey," she called after me, voice full of mocking. "You can't hide boobs that big. Fifteen and you're already sagging!" Her laughter sounded almost mechanical. I took no notice of the people around my that I was passing; blocked out the whispers, the comment, the full-out laughter.
I thought I heard someone call behind me, but it didn't matter. My pace was speeding up, and soon I had broken out into a run, tears falling and bolting top speed. I ran to the park, almost crashing into a bench. I collapsed onto and cried on the same bench I had drawn earlier that morning.
Suddenly, I snapped out of the memory. Without thinking about it, I looked down at myself, my shirt. Ever since I had gotten to Camp Half Blood, I had strictly worn sports bras. I didn't want the extra attention, good or bad. It was never good, anyway. Before I could think too much about it, I hurriedly flipped the rest of the way through my sketchpad to my most recent drawing, a sketch of the lake. The surrounding land and sky was done, but now I had the hardest part left: the water. Taking a deep breath, I selected a graphite pencil and began my work.
***
I packed up my stuff, smiling. My lake was done, and I was pretty proud of it. Getting up, I stretched, then slung my bag over my shoulder. I wonder how much time had passed. I looked up at the sky. It was significantly brighter than before. Oh gods. What time was it?
Without a second thought, I started running top speed toward the dining pavilion, praying I wasn't late. What if everyone was already there? Oh gods.
My fear were correct. When I arrived, everyone was already seated. And worse--they were all staring at me.
"Ah, Miss Devereaux. You've finally arrived." I stared at the ground in shame. It was Chiron speaking.
"Why don't you come with me?" Like a seventh grade class after a boy and girl have been paired together, most of the camp rang out in a big Ohhh. Face burning, I started to follow him, who was already walking away. As I passed the Aphrodite table, I found myself on the receiving end of a smug smile from Drew. I was in trouble.
_________
Author note: Hey guys, it's Jamie! I know a lot of you requested for Fading Angel to be put back up, so here it is.
You can't co-write on Wattpad, and originally, Heart27 and I were planning for her to upload it -- except it gave her problems and it was bolded, so I'm publishing it.
She has done approximately half or more of what we've written, so credit goes to her.
Her Wattpad is InconspicuousBox . We'll be uploading one chapter on Monday and another on Thursday until we've caught up with where we were at when we wrote it on Quotev.
Vote, comment, read!