𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒, apollo

𝐱𝐱𝐢𝐢𝐢. girl talk and the laurel tree

"TWO DAYS UNTIL WE reach Los Angeles," Grover sighs. "Plenty of time before our deadline to reach the Underworld." My muscles tensed, and I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks as the three glanced at me, as if I were under a microscope.

Frustrated, I slapped my hands on the table, "Okay, I've had enough." I looked down at my hands, before brushing my hair out of my face and continuing, "We're just gonna go to the Underworld, grab the Lightning Bolt, and leave before anyone notices."

I feel like my stomach's tied up in knots, but I brush away the feeling, "And if we run into my father so what, we'll figure something out. Now could you please stop staring at me like that every time he's mentioned?"

"Sorry," Percy beside me mumbles. Both Grover and Annabeth do the same and I melt into my seat.

"Can I ask a dumb question?" Percy suddenly speaks up.

"It's like you need me to make fun of you," Annabeth sighs and I cover up my snort. Grover rolls his eyes at us, "Shoot."

My friend beside me pauses before saying, "I've never been to Los Angeles before." Cy turns to me, "I know you've never been to Los Angeles before." Then he turns to the other two in front of us, "I'm guessing that also neither of you have been there. So, how do we have any idea where we're going?"

Grover shrugs, "No idea."

"Well, that's reassuring," I mumble. The satyr sighs, "But that's like step thirty-seven, and we're still on step four. We'll cross that bridge when we're there."

TOWARDS THE END OF our second day on the train, June 13, eight days before the summer solstice, we passed through some golden hills and over the Mississippi River into St. Louis.

Annabeth craned her neck to see the Gateway Arch. I didn't really find anything that interesting about it. "I want to do that," She sighed.

"What?" Percy asked. Annabeth rolled her eyes, "Build something like that." I glanced back at the arch. It looked like something like an eight-year-old could design.

Soon we pulled into the Amtrak station downtown. The intercom told us we'd have a three-hour layover before departing for Denver. By Annabeth's request, we headed into the arch's way, our footsteps echoing softly on the cobblestone path.

We were passing through a park bustling with people enjoying the beautiful weather, laughter and chatter filling the air. Children ran around playing games, couples walked hand in hand, and groups of friends sprawled on blankets, enjoying the sunshine. The scent of fresh grass and blooming flowers mingled with the distant smell of a nearby food vendor, adding to the calm atmosphere.

As we walked, something caught my eye, a brief sense of unease that made my heart skip a beat. I couldn't quite put it, but a nagging feeling forced me to stop in my tracks. I hesitated for a moment, trying to shake off the strange feeling, but it only grew stronger. Giving in to my instincts, I finally turned to look back.

At first, I couldn't figure out what was bugging me. I scanned the park, my eyes flitting over the familiar sights: families having picnics, cyclists whizzing by, and dogs chasing after frisbees. This park was quite familiar to the one back in New York. Everything seemed normal, perfectly in place. Yet, the unsettling feeling stayed.

Then, my gaze landed on a blooming laurel tree, its vibrant green leaves and delicate white flowers standing out against the backdrop of the park. It seemed to drew me in, almost as if the tree invited me for a talk. It was in full bloom, each petal glistening in the sunlight.