𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚘𝚠𝚗, 𝚔𝚒𝚍 - percy jackson x oc

033

XXXIII - THE DEATH OF A FRIEND

VALERIA HAD NEVER TRIED TO DRIVE.

She did not understand why it was necessary to learn to do something that kills tens of thousands of people in America each year.

But then Percy had gotten this brilliant idea to convince Paul Blofis, his stepdad, to let Valeria and Percy take his Prius out for a drive.

Valeria and Percy had been able to hang out a lot since last summer. Not only to be around each other, but Sally Jackson loved to fuss over Valeria, and who was Percy to tell his mom no?

"Um, Val, that's the wrong pedal," Percy carefully told her.

Valeria frowned, realizing she was pressing on the brake instead of the gas. "Oh. Right."

She slowly pressed the gas and they were driving along at a steady pace along the beach.

"Well this is not so bad," Valeria said. "I mean, Thalia drove the sun chariot. This is much easier in comparison."

Valeria looked over at Percy and realized he was gripping the door in nervousness. She slowly let the car stop.

"Jackson, do not tell me you are scared of my driving," Valeria warned.

"Of course not, Sunshine," he said with a grin, which was definitely fake.

"You are lucky you are pretty," Valeria grumbled before she leaned over and kissed him.

It was just like last summer but better. It felt warm, like the sun at midday, and beautiful, and everything Valeria had ever dreamed of.

Until a Pegasus landed on the hood of the car.

They jumped apart and Percy sighed. "Blackjack. What are you—"

Then his eyes trailed up to who was on Blackjack's back.

"'Sup, Percy. Valeria."

Charles Beckendorf, senior counselor for the Hephaestus cabin. He was one of the tallest campers with large muscles from working on the forges every summer. He was years older than them by two years and one of the camp's best armorsmiths. He made some ingenious mechanical stuff that even left Valeria impressed. A month before, he had rigged a Greek firebomb in the bathroom of a tour bus that was carrying a bunch of monsters across country. The explosion took out a whole legion of Kronos' minions.

Beckendorf was dressed for combat. He wore a bronze breastplate and war helm with black camo pants and a sword strapped to his side. His explosives bag was slung over his shoulder.

"Time?" Percy asked.

He nodded grimly.

Valeria reached over and opened the glovebox. She took out one of Paul's spare notebooks and pens— teachers tend to have things like that—and scribbled an apology to Paul and an explanation for Ms. Jackson. She left it in the cup holder.

Behind Blackjack was another Pegasus that Valeria figured was meant for her. She realized it was the same Pegasus she had rode last summer.

"Hey, Glue Stick," Valeria greeted, earning a huff of disapproval from the Pegasus. She combed her fingers through his mane before she climbed on.

"So," Beckendorf said. "I'm guessing you don't want me telling the folks back at camp about what I just saw?"

Valeria and Percy started saying a slew of threats and Beckendorf just laughed before they took off into the sky.

It was almost dark by the time they spotted their target. The Princess Andromeda glowed on the horizon — a huge cruise ship lit up yellow and white.

Valeria hated this ship. The last time she had been on it was when she was 13. Now, as a 15 year old, she hated it just the same.