Calculus and crushes

5 0 0
                                    

Lester does homework.

Apollo gives Meg dating advice.

————————————————————————
It was Saturday, which meant Lester called his cousins like clockwork. He knew it might take a few tries because the only real phone on the other end was a landline and it was hit or miss if Mr. D or Mr. Brunner or one of the counselors would be nearby to answer. Lester bounced on the balls of his feet, humming a quiet tune as it rang and rang and rang...

No one picked up.

He could feel the ache stirring in his chest.

"Phoebus, come have breakfast."

"Okay...."

"You've reached Charles Brunner at Camp Half-Blood. Unfortunately no one is available to take your call right now. Please leave a message after the beep."

"Uh, hi Mr. Brunner. It's Lester making my usual call. If someone could call me back, that'd be great?"

"Phoebus, could you be a dear and help me make lunch?"

"One sec!"

Calculus was evil.

That much Lester knew. His grades weren't terrible, but it had always been hard for him to stay still. Even in his band class he had to be moving in some way to concentrate.

(How many detentions had he gotten for talking enthusiastically over the music teacher? Excuse him if he knew more than that guy!)

Last time Meg and Artemis visited on the same weekend, they'd picked up some easels and white boards. Lester had kept one and set up next to the kitchen table where he tried working out differentials in large swoops and swirls and doodles.

He still had to painstakingly copy his work to normal paper. While he could have the most beautiful handwriting when he was allowed to be creative with it, his math teacher didn't appreciate the fine calligraphy on the work he turned in.

So he had to sit down and concentrate on writing out his calculations in neat rows after he'd already worked them out on his white board. It was tedious work and Artemis and Meg had both told him he was making it harder on himself, that he didn't need to turn in perfect equations in perfectly neat handwriting but, dammit, he was going to do this right!

It probably didn't help he kept glancing at the phone on the wall every five minutes, an building in his chest.

The camp his cousins went to didn't allow smartphones or cellular devices -- something about the service being bad -- but they had a landline installed in the Big House and Lester called every Saturday.

It was just luck of the draw if anyone would answer on the other end. He'd tried to set up a regular time with Mr. D and Mr. Brunner and Will, but with how active the camp could be it was hit or miss if anyone would reliably be there at the time.

Lester abandoned his homework for the phone and dialed the number again. He bounced on the balls of his feet.

He got Mr. Brunner's voice on the ancient answering machine.

Again.

"Hi, Mr. Brunner. It's Lester again. Could you have Will or Kayla or Gracie or Austin call me back later?"

His voice caught in his throat and he hated how tiny his voice got by the end.

"Please?"

He hung up the phone immediately after and tried to will down the tears rising up.

Flowers For ApolloWhere stories live. Discover now