Cecilia Holmes, Daughter of Minerva (Sherlock/Percy Jackson crossover)

Chapter 44

    “I have something for you,” I said as I sat with Claude at lunch on Monday. He smiled and set down his book. Today he wore his favorite neon yellow skinny jeans and a dark purple shirt. For some reason, I was coming to love the way he dressed. It was ridiculous, but it was bold. And he looked good in bright colors.
    Compared to all black.
    “Oh?” he said, raising his eyebrows.
    “Yes,” I said, “But I will only give it to you on one condition.”
    “What?”
    I looked down at his lunch. He hadn’t destroyed the fortune cookie yet.
    “Now that I know you are a son of Nemesis,” I said, looking back up into his eyes, “I want to know what’s in that fortune cookie.”
    His face fell.
    “You can’t blame me for being curious.”
    “No, I can’t,” he murmured, looking down at his fortune cookie. And then he was silent for a long time.
    “Come on,” I said, trying to lighten the mood with a sing-song voice, “It’ll be worth it, I promise!”
    Claude didn’t laugh like I’d hoped.
    Instead he picked up the fortune cookie and handed it to me, refusing to meet my gaze.
    “Thanks,” I said as I took it. I broke it open and took out the white slip of paper inside. I read it.
    “Pain will be your legacy”.
    I scowled at the paper as I read the phrase over and over again.
    “Is this what it says everyday?” I asked, putting the broken cookie and the paper onto the table.
    “Yeah,” he said quietly, “She has always been… well, she has always been disappointed in me because… she loves my dad the best, but I’m not like how she wants me to be. I don’t want to hurt people or get revenge… and she hates that. She also hates that I chose to work with Hecate instead of her.” He lowered his eyes.
    “You do magic?” I said. He nodded.
    “A little bit. I’ve studied it and have always been able to manipulate the Mist with ease, which is why we haven’t been attacked by monsters, except for last week when…” he cleared his throat, “Anyway. Hecate has taken a personal interest in me, and she trains me when I go to Camp Half-Blood.” He smiled with pride. But then it fell. “My mom doesn’t like that. She doesn’t like me in general. She wants me to be like her other kids… but I already told you. I don’t want to be like them.”
    My eyesight was blurred and my hands were shaking with anger.
    I had to get it out before I hurt someone.
    I looked at the fortune cookie.
    And then I swung down my fist and crushed it into tiny pieces. Claude jumped at the violent movement, his eyes growing wide.
    “Screw her,” I growled. I looked at Claude and forced my face to relax.
    And then I remembered the gift.
    “Oh yeah!” I exclaimed, glad to get my mind off of that painful subject. I reached into my hoodie’s pocket and pulled out the gift card and the note.
    “Here.” I handed it to him. His eyes grew wide and he looked at me.
    “What’s the occasion?” he asked with a laugh. I shrugged.
    “You’re my friend. Friends give each other gifts, right?” I said, feeling a little silly.
    He read the note, his smile growing wider.
    “You’re the best, Cecilia,” he said. And then he jumped to his feet, ran around the table, and squished me in a bear hug. I patted him awkwardly and hoped he’d let go soon.
   

*

    By the end of Thursday I was beginning to get anxious. Prom was just two days away and Claude hadn’t asked me yet. I knew he would at some point, but he was cutting it kind of close, and that made me nervous.
    I met him at our lockers Friday morning, wondering if he’d ask me then. He didn’t.
    I walked with him in between classes, wondering every time if he’d ask me then. He didn’t.
    At lunch, I wondered if he was going to ask me. I didn’t think so when the time went by like normal. But then, only a few minutes before we had to leave for our next class, he suddenly asked, “So, what do you think about Prom?”
    “What do I think about it?” I repeated. It was an infuriating question and I was pretty darn sure he knew it.
    “Yeah,” he said, looking around, “I mean, we’ve seen all these couples together for the past few weeks and stuff… do you think you’ll go?”
    “I want to,” I said with a shrug, “But I don’t have any dresses, so, if I did I’d have to go in jeans and a t-shirt.”
    “But you want to anyway?” he repeated. I nodded.
    “I think it’d be fun. I’ve always wanted to try dancing. What about you? You take the dance very seriously, don’t you?” I raised my eyebrows, “Are you going to go?”
    “I think so,” he said with a nod. And then he stood. It was time to go. We dumped what was left of our lunches and went down the hall to the locker area, where we had to switch out our books. I went to my locker and knelt down next to it, putting in my code.
    But when I opened it up, a bunch of colorful balloons fell out!
    “What the—?” but then I stopped.
    ‘Prom?’ was written on each of them.
    I began to giggle. And then I began to laugh. Tears sprang to my eyes and my side began to hurt. I grabbed one of the balloons and stood, whirling around to face Claude. He stood behind me, a grin on his face.
    “You are the cheesiest boy ever!” I exclaimed, shaking the balloon at him. His grin only grew.
    “Cecilia, will you go to prom with me?” he asked, holding his empty hands out toward me.
    “Yes, I will!” I exclaimed, decidedly. And then I ran forward and hugged him. A few “awww”s sounded around us, but only a few.
    “P.S.,” he whispered in my ear as we hugged, “Don’t worry about getting a dress. I’m taking you shopping later.”
    “What?” I said, stepping away from him, my eyes growing wide.
    “I want to make sure my date looks good, so I want to make sure you don’t buy a dress I don’t like,” he winked at me.
    “What? No, Claude, I can’t let you—“
    “No ands, ors, or buts!” he exclaimed, crossing his arms. “I insist.”
    I stared at him for a long time. And then I shrugged.
    “All right then. If you insist.”
    “I do.”
    I shook my head.
    “We better get to class…” I murmured, leaning down and switching out my books. And then I picked gathered all the balloons in my arms and carried them as we walked to class. I let one drop every once in awhile, and Claude laughed every time I did.
    I tried to keep everything in perspective, but Claude was obviously rubbing off on me, because I kept breaking out in a smile or soft giggle.
    And, for once, I didn’t tell myself to shut up. For once, I let myself be happy.
    Because I knew it wasn’t going to last.

*

    “You’re really going to buy me a dress?”
    “We’re standing in the middle of a dress shop and this is the twentieth time that I’ve told you yes, I am buying you a dress. Can’t you just accept it?” Claude chuckled.
    “You’re just… so generous,” I murmured, looking through another line-up of dresses. Claude didn’t respond but stood behind me, looking over my shoulder.
    After a few minutes of looking, I turned toward Claude, exasperated.    “What kind of dress do you want me to wear?” I asked, gesturing around me at all of the dresses. Some were bejeweled, others were silky. Some were short, some were long. Some had sleeves, some didn’t. And don’t get me started on the colors.
    Claude pursed his lips, looking around.
    “I want you to be comfortable…” he whispered, going to another rack.
    “That’s not very helpful,” I complained.
    “Come on, let’s work it out together,” he exclaimed, turning toward me. “Would you feel better in a long or short dress?”
    “I think a short dress would be easier to dance in,” I said.
    “Okay, shorter it is,” he said, looking around.
    “What color do you want me to wear?” I asked, also looking.
    “I think you’d look good in yellow.”
    I laughed.
    “I should’ve known.”
    “What?”
    I didn’t respond but walked over to the first yellow dresses I saw. I pulled them out.
    “Okay, I definitely think I want some support…” I said, putting back the sparkly, strapless dress. I looked at the next one.
    It was nice. It was sleeveless with a sweetheart neckline and the skirt was short but flowing. It would suit my purpose.
    And Claude will like it.
    “What do you think?” I asked, holding it up for him.
    “I think it’s perfect if you like it,” he said.
    “I’m going to try it on.”
    I went to the changing area and the lady behind the counter came and unlocked the door for me. I changed quickly, pulling the dress over my head. I wiggled into it and then adjusted the sleeves and skirt. It looked perfect, and for a dress, it wasn’t so bad.
    I turned toward the door.
    “Do you want to see?” I called to Claude.
    “DUH.”
    I allowed myself to smile, but composed myself before I opened the door. I stood in the entryway so I wouldn’t get locked out. Claude stood opposite of me a few paces away, outside of the changing area. His eyes grew wide as he stared at me.
    “What?” I exclaimed, putting my hands on my hips.
    “N-nothing, just… it’s beautiful. You’re beautiful,” he stammered.
    I could feel myself begin to blush, so I thanked him quickly and then shut the door.
    I changed back into my bra, t-shirt, and jeans, and then I walked out with the dress over my arm.
    “Did you want to try on any more?” Claude asked as I approached him. I shook my head.
    “This is the one. Thank you, Claude,” and then I rose on my tiptoes and kissed his cheek.