¹POCKET FULL OF POSIES. p. jackson

𝐕𝐈𝐈. what makes a glowstick (or snaps it)

pocket full of posies
❛ vii. what makes a glowstick ❜

━━━━━ ROSE AND POSIE parted ways at the end of the canoe lake's dock. Posie met Percy at the edge of the twelve cabins. Thalia was over at the basketball court, trying to break up a fight between some of Ares's children and Hunters. ( See in: trying. The fight seemed to be ready to blow up any minute—swords and basketballs were about to be thrown. )

              Percy stuffed his hands into his coat pocket's when he spotted Posie. "Hey." He gave her a tight-lipped smile. "Your hand. It looks better."

              "Chiron's healing," she admitted, shrugging to him passively. "He learned from my dad and all."

              Posie knew she was being short with Percy, mainly because she still hadn't quite forgiven him for the "You suck at archery" bit he spewed at her. He knew how much she hated talking about things like archery; it was the things her father was the god of, and yet, she couldn't even shoot a bow to save her life. It was embarrassing, but he still blurted that like it was nothing.

              "Hey." He nudged her with his elbow. "What did Chiron need to talk to you about?"

              "Oh, uh ..." Posie pursed her lips. "The healing. For the burn mark. And—and to tell me that Rose needed to tell me something. Yeah. That's what he needed to tell me."

              "Rose from ... Cabin Eleven? Hermes's kid?" asked Percy. When Posie nodded, he then asked; "Well, what'd she tell you?"

              "Yeah, what she told me ... Well ..." Posie's eyebrows pinched together. There was no easy way to deliver the truth. "Rose told me that Wyatt ran away, along with Ethan Nakamura."

              Percy frowned. "Ran away, like ...?"

              "Ran away like joined Kronos."

              "Oh." The son of Poseidon straightened. He brushed any snow out of his unruly black hair. "If they did join Kronos, then ... good riddance. Hopefully, some monsters get them."

              There was a beat of silence as Posie processed what he said. Then she hissed; "Percy! You don't mean that. That's a horrible thing to say!"

              "I mean it," he insisted, frowning at her. "If Wyatt—" He stopped to narrow his eyes on her. "He's the one you have a crush on, right?"

              Posie stopped in her tracks, and Percy stopped with her. They were right outside Cabin Twelve. "I don't have a crush on him," she told him with a frown.

              "Not anymore I hope," he replied with a biting tone. "Not if he's a fucking traitor."

              Posie blinked at Percy, shocked at the way he was talking. "We don't actually know if Wyatt joined Kronos, you know."

              "Where else do all those runaway campers go, Posie?" he snapped back. "If it were any other camper, you would just agree with me—but because it's Wyatt, you're arguing with me."

              "Oh. I see." Posie nodded, her lips pulled down into a deep scowl. "You can't handle the fact I think for myself instead of just holding onto every word you say. I mean, that's it, right?"

              "That is not it!" Percy insisted.

              "Then what else is it?" she demanded, stomping her foot. There was some kickback of snow, which blew away in the chilling snow.