Have I ever mentioned that I hate Percy Jackson? Like seriously, what an ass?
I was just trying to have an uneventful day, sleep in a bit, sleep some more. But no. Of course not. If you know Percy I-Like-Fucking-Things-Up Jackson nothing will ever be easy for you. One second you will be peacefully lying in bed watching Hamilton, the next you are being pulled out of bed by the ear to go save his stupid ass.
"Nick!" I yelled, batting his hand away from my ear. "I heard you the first time you said it, there is no need to use physical force!"
Nick let go of my ear and sighed. "If you heard me, why didn't you move when I said in a rather urgent tone, 'Emelia, Percy is in trouble, we have to go!'"
"Because, when is Percy not in trouble? He is a big boy, he can handle his problems. Plus, I have my problems," I said. My voice shook slightly at my last few words.
My problems are . . . well, problematic. My problems are everyone's problems as well. If I don't work them out, well, safe to say we are all pretty screwed.
"Well, Percy's problems take precedence right now," Nick replied. He reached for my hand but I stepped back, earning a glare from him.
"I choose to disagree. I was on a quest for the last week straight and am rather exhausted from running around that stupid . . . " I let myself trail off, to not give away the confidential details. "The point is, I'm super tired, Annabeth and you will be there, you two cancel out most of the stupidity of Percy."
"But we aren't coming back to the house, we are going to camp after we grab him! And you even told me that you had to report to Chiron about your, erm, quest." Nick smiled at me with his stupid, stupid smile that I could never resist.
"Fine! But when I pass out!"
"I will personally carry you all the way back to camp." Nick grabbed my hand, giving it a tight squeeze as he dragged me out the door.
Remember when I said I hate Percy Jackson? I take it back. I only hate him when I have to talk to him, but being an observer of this monstrosity of a person? It's truly a gift.
Sirens were wailing from the variety of emergency vehicles surrounding Goode Academy. I overheard one of them describing someone who closely resembled my dear friend. One girl was sobbing because she swore that her friend was blown up in the middle of the school.
It was truly a work of art that Percy Jackson created.
I was tempted to go rat him out to one of the police just because, but Nick wouldn't let me. His damn conscience needs to get a life.
Nick and I jogged down the street where we found Percy, Annabeth, and some other girl huddled in a little alleyway.
"Oh, Nick! Emelia!" Annabeth yelled and ran over to us, giving us both a big hug. "You guys got here quick!" I pulled away from Annabeth, giving her a big smile.
"It helps that Percy decided to blow up the school down the street from me," Nick said. He turned towards Percy. "And, you know, the school that I attend. With all my friends. But it's okay. I guess."
I had to hold back a laugh. Nick, by default, also doesn't like Percy Jackson much after he figured out I wasn't Jackson's number-one fan. Nick is the kind to hold grudges, especially against those who hurt his friends.
"Yeah," Percy said sheepishly. "Sorry about that . . . I didn't know."
"So if you knew you wouldn't have blown up the school?" I retorted. He shot me a glare to go against my smug smirk.
YOU ARE READING
Sign of the Times
Hayran KurguEverything needs to die at some point. The grass, the trees. The stars, the planets. Even the gods will fade eventually. A mere mortal can't escape death. We can try to prevent it and prolong the inevitable with sacrifice, medicine, or magic. But...