𝕮AMP HALF-BLOOD. As Long Island Sound's own little secret, camp was a happy place for most demigods. A home away from home, where they could escape from difficult families for at least a little while and forget about worries while training with friends just like them. It was safe there inside the magic borders given by a friend's memory, unlike the outside world that was overflowing with monsters at every corner.
Camp Half-Blood: Alya McAdams' paradise on earth.
Alya stepped through the threshold of the Aphrodite cabin on a sunny Tuesday morning, the sound of singing birds seeming to follow her steps as she walked through the grounds. Today was going to be a good day, because today had swordsmanship on the schedule.
But not just any swordsmanship course, one where cabin 10 was paired up with cabin 11.
A rather reckless move by whoever had planned the schedules that day, considering everyone knew of the connection between both cabin's counselors.
"McAdams!"
Well you know what they say, speak of the devil and he shall appear.
Alya turned her head to be met with a smiling and sweaty son of Hermes, droplets of sweat slipping through his curly hair. His sword was clutched in his hands, as apparently he and his cabin had arrived early to something for once, a true miracle in itself.
Alya let out a false gasp, sticking her hand up in front of her mouth as she taunted, "Do my eyes deceive me or is cabin eleven actually early for something?"
Luke offered a chuckle, spinning his sword in his hand as a knowing smirk crept up on his face. "Actually," he said, sucking in air through his teeth in mock sympathy. "Cabin 10's late."
"What?" Alya scoffed incredulously, letting out a laugh. "Today's class starts at 9, it's only 8:50."
She twisted her left wrist and shoved it in the boy's face, shining the face of her rosy-colored watch in his eyes. Luke took one glance at it and his sly little smile grew.
The boy tapped the watch's glass with a finger, telling her, "That right there says 9:15, heart eyes."
"It so does not." The brunette scoffed once more, pulling her wrist out of his face and holding it up in front of hers. Upon seeing the Roman numerals that the watch's hand pointed to, her brows scrunched together.
When delivering a smack to the glass proved to change nothing, Alya looked up at the coy brunette in front of her. "Stolls." She muttered with a shake of her head.
Disregarding the amused smile that was fighting its way onto the girl's face, Luke feigned injury. "I am hurt that you don't think I could pull of something as simple as tampering with clock times."
