/ thálassa | pjo \

/ chapter three | we almost die in the car from hell \

edited.

______________________________________________________________________________

 The tension was astronomical the second my brother and Tyson came running up.

Like it had been a long time since I had been kind of in the middle of that feeling–but here I was, my eyes pinballing between my best friend and my brother and Tyson. I felt like I watching a bomb getting ready to explode–the timer ticking down to our deaths.

Or in other words, the son of Poseidon or the daughter of Athena losing their minds on one another.

"Where'd you find him?" Annabeth snapped at my brother, glowering at Tyson–moving closer to me.

"He's our friend," Percy shot back at her–moving closer to Tyson.

"Is he homeless?"

"What does that have to do with anything? He can hear you, you know. Why don't you ask him?"

Annabeth looked genuinely shocked, "He can talk?"

"I talk," Tyson nodded, his big eyes on paling Annabeth's face. "You are pretty."

Instead of reacting like a flattered schoolgirl, Annabeth slipped behind me–shrieking in my ear, "Ah! Gross!"

I gave her an incredulous look over my shoulder–getting ready to chew her out for being rude to my friend–when Percy suddenly commented, "Tyson, your hands aren't even burned."

I turned to the boys, furrowing my brows, "What do you mean Tyson's hands aren't—"

"Of course not," Annabeth snapped quietly–her tone more of a hiss now. "I'm surprised the Laistrygonians had the guts to attack you with him around."

The name sparked a memory from Annabeth and I's history lessons this past summer.

"Annabeth," Percy questioned–his green eyes swinging back to her. "What are you talking about? Laistry-what?" He looked at me pointedly, "Do you have any idea what she's talking about?"

"Laistrygonians are these cannibal monsters who live up north on the continent." I scratched my head–trying not to let the absolute disaster that the day had turned out to get under my skin. Which wasn't really helping as my brain was running faster than the fastest Hermes or Apollo kid at Camp. "I think Odysseus ran into them once?"

Annabeth nodded in confirmation while Percy just stared at us like we were crazy.

The blonde had smacked Tyson's hand away from her messed up and slightly singed hair as she said, "I've never seen them as far south as New York before."

"Laistry—I can't even say that." My brother was about to lose his mind. I could see it in the way his shoulders were tightening and his jaw was ticking, "What would you call them in English?"

I looked at my best friend, and she pinched her lips before replying, "Canadians. Now, come on, we have to get out of here."

"The police'll be after us," Percy nodded at me. At my confused face, he said, "They saw you fleeing the scene."

I groaned loudly–throwing my hands up into the air, "Damn it...We were so close."

"Tell me about it," Percy grumbled. "Don't let Mom hear you cuss."

"Thanks for the warning. What are we—"

"Sally cussing and the police are the least of our problems," Annabeth pulled our attention back to her. Her eyes were concerned and slightly frustrated at our conversation taking up time. "Have you been having the dreams?"