𝗚𝗢𝗟𝗗𝗜𝗘! 𝙥. 𝙟𝙖𝙘𝙠𝙨𝙤𝙣 ¹

Weeeeeeeeee!

CHAPTER NINE: PERCY, LYDIA

PERCY

Dancing Chihuahuas. That's what Percy dreamt about. For once in his life, he didn't have a blood-curdling, hair-raising, goosebump-inducing, bone-chilling dream, and it was of four Chihuahuas in matching, bedazzled, yellow, disco jumpsuits and Go-go boots.

They were dancing in the middle of a checkerboard dancefloor to Lydia's choreography to Mirrors by Justin Timberlake, with illuminated tiles that changed color with the beat. The weirdest thing was that she was in the center dancing with them. 

Her hair was huge—almost as huge as her smile. She looked like she'd fit right with the cast of Mamma Mia during the last number in the ending credits.

It was crazy how he always dreamed of her. Even if it was the most ridiculous scenario ever, Lydia always found her way into his mind. Without fail every time he'd dream she'd be in it, and every time she would, it would turn the most sour nightmare into the sweetest dream.

Percy blinked awake. He wondered how his brain was even able to conjure up something like that. Was it the guilt from leaving her hanging back at Westover Hall?

No, no. It couldn't be. Percy was protecting her from being the most embarrassing human alive. She'd thank him later.

He was too busy looking like that one meme of Jackie Chan to notice Lydia curled up in his lap. Her hair was plastered to her forehead, her breathing steady. Percy realized just how numb his legs were, but he didn't have it in him to wake her up—or to even move her.

He didn't have to, and the peace only lasted about a minute because Thalia was stomping over to their car. She aggressively knocked on the window, and Percy wondered how in the world the glass didn't shatter from the force of her knuckles.

He shushed her. Couldn't she see that Lydia was sleeping?

I don't know, Percy, maybe her intentions were to wake. her. up?

"It's morning," Thalia said from outside. "Get up, losers. The train's stopped. We have to get going."

Well, damn, okay. Percy thought.

Lydia's eyes fluttered open. He didn't even remember falling asleep, but he was sure that this wasn't the position they were in. Apollo must be playing a tricky game. Not that he was complaining.

She sat up abruptly, and glamorously said, "Huh?"

She wiped her hair out of his face, blinking as her eyes focused.

"Good morning, sleepyhead." Percy snorted.

She gave him the stink eye. Lydia's least favorite thing in the whole world was probably waking up. Being her designated alarm clock before school gave him a pretty good idea of just how much she hated mornings.

Even with that mean look on her face, she looked cute.

"What?"

Oh, shit. Did he say that out loud?

"I said you look like a fruit."

"Oh," her forehead creased like that made all the sense in the world. "Which fruit? Because that matters."

Percy really thought about it, his finger stroking his chin in deep contemplation. After a moment, he said, "A strawberry."

She sighed and pointed to her face. "It's 'cause of the freckles, isn't it?"

"No, it's because your face is red all the time." He teased, poking her cheek. "And yeah, the freckles."

"Shut up," she slapped his hand away, her cheeks turning red and proving his point. "I get warm when I sleep."