𝙄𝙉𝙁𝙇𝘼𝙈𝙀𝘿; heroes of olympus

improper reunions

ERITH JAY
ONCE ERITH GOT over herself (she could always cry later―plus, those strawberries Drew had picked for her were really good), things got a little easier.

On the one hand, she was so far on a super cool ship with her boyfriend (yes, they had finally made things official maybe a month ago, even though it filled Erith with anxiety), Annabeth, Piper, and Jason. So, three of her close friends and a boy she liked to kiss. Easy. 

Except, not so much.

She supposed it was good that she had come along. Leo and Annabeth weren't the closest, and she knew poor Leo would've had to third wheel Piper and Jason―who were dating now, even though Jason had quietly, and a bit ashamedly, told Erith one evening before they sailed that there was this girl from Camp Jupiter―ugh, Jason.

But aside from that, the two were cute together―but they were also both clingy. But separately. It was so irritating. Jason would want to kiss Piper but he'd hold off because he had the romantic intelligence of an ant, and Piper would want Jason to hold her but she didn't want to ask because she didn't want to seem needy.

It was horrid to watch. Plus, during the few very rare times they actually coordinated their romantic needs and Piper was sitting on Jason's lap, making out with him, well―if Leo had no other close friends on the ship, god, she pitied that image. Leo, awkwardly standing there holding a wrench while Jason and Piper sucked each other's faces off.

So that was good. Leo was awkward enough. But also, she just―she wanted to be with him.

She spared him a glance. He was working on something by the rails, his hands flying, his curls bouncing. Almost as if their brains were connected, he turned his head and grinned at her, flashing her a thumbs up.

Yeah, if she had to go on a super dangerous quest that might've been her fate, she was glad it was with him at least.

Also, the Argo II was cool as fuck. Two hundred feet long, with a bronze-plated hull, mounted repeating crossbows fore and aft, a flaming metal dragon for a figurehead―Leo really had reused Festus, and he'd done a damn good job at it―and two rotating ballistae amidships that could fire explosive bolts powerful enough to blast through concrete. And the detail that Erith enjoyed the most: it could fly.

She loved the idea of flying, even though she couldn't do it. The wind in her hair, the lurching in her stomach―she lived for it. Jason had taken her on flights with him sometimes, just going away from camp for a bit, maybe grabbing a snack. She had always loved it.

The rest of the crew, though, seemed less optimistic than Leo and herself.

Piper was pacing back and forth, practicing her lines. Her charmspeak was so powerful Erith had to actually separate herself from the girl, and so now she was standing close to Jason and Annabeth.

Speaking of Annabeth, the girl looked like she was about to throw up. Erith knew her friend was trying not to show it, but it was intensely obvious: her whole body was coiled so tight Erith was afraid she was going to rust. Her expression kept flicking with nausea. She had gone through the plan with them again, and again, and then the backup plan, and then the backup plan to the backup plan.

Erith loved her friend, but it was starting to get just a little, teensy tiny bit annoying. Then again, she understood it. Annabeth had always been a planner, a strategist, but she had also always relied on her knowledge for stuff like that. This was uncharted territory that no Greek demigod had passed in ages. Of course she was a little anxious.