𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗟𝗔𝗨𝗦𝗘 ! ━ 𝙋. 𝙅𝘼𝘾𝙆𝙎𝙊𝙉

viii.

𖤓

After Percy went to the attic, Grover turned to Marcel with wide eyes. Marcel couldn't help but see a cute baby goat with puppy eyes looking straight at him. I want to squeeze his face, he thought.

"You are going to the quest," started Grover, "aren't you?"

Marcel made a face and crossed his arms. "No."

Grover's mouth fell open. He leaned over the table to get closer to Marcel. "But, Marcel! You're the best demigod here! Besides, you've wanted the quest since forever-!"

Chiron cleared his throat. "It is not like that, dear Grover." He scratched his chin, looking sheepish. "Marcel can not go to the quest."

"But why?" Grover bleated.

"The fates," Marcel let out a deep sigh, "are cruel. Aren't they, Chiron?" he sent the centaur a meaningful, petty glance.

Chiron massaged his right temple with his fingers. His lips were turned downward. "Indeed they are, dear."

Grover's head whipped back and forth, looking at their exchange with a confused expression. He grabbed a Diet Coke can and started chewing it nervously. "But if Marcel is not going... then who will go with Percy?"

Marcel reached out his hand to pick the cards from the table. He started arranging them by values and suits.

An uncomfortable silence fell upon them. Chiron's fingers drummed against the flat surface of the table. The sound of the Diet Coke can crushing was too loud for Marcel's liking. He subconsciously twitched his leg, sometimes hitting the underside of the table with his knee.

The sound of feet rapidly thudding against the ground caught their attention. The three of them turned to the source.

Annabeth was running toward them, her Yankees cap in a tight grip.

Marcel smiled slightly.

Once she made it, she grabbed the stair railing. She bent down and panted out: "Quest."

Marcel grimaced. There it was. The hard part. He stood up and went to her. "Can we talk? In private."

Annabeth stared at him with furrowed eyebrows. She glanced at Chiron and Grover and then back at him. She shrugged. "Sure."

Marcel jumped off the porch, Annabeth hot on his heels, and went behind the Big House. No one would interrupt them there.

"So," she crossed her arms. "What's up?"

"There's something I got to tell you." He took a deep breath. "Something important."

"Spit it out then." Annabeth pulled at her blonde curly lock. "You're making me nervous."

Marcel couldn't make himself look her in the eyes. He put his arms across his chest. His eyes locked on a rock near Annabeth's sneakers.

"I can't go on the quest with you."

Annabeth's arms fell. "What?"

"Don't get mad!" He glanced up and immediately regretted it. The look Annie had... He never wanted to see it again. He returned his gaze to the rock. "Chiron told me it's not my time yet. But you can go."

She frowned and put her hand on his forearm. "I'm not mad at you." Her hand slipped to his own. She squeezed his palm. "I don't want to go without you, Marcel. We promised we would go on our first quest. Together."

Marcel made a face. "I know that-"

"Then why do you break the promise so easily?!"

He pressed his lips in a fine line. He looked her in the eyes. "Would you dare oppose the fates if you were me?" Annabeth's expression faltered. "Chiron told me the prophecy only says about you, not me. I can't go to the quest if I don't want to anger them."