MAYA REYES didn't exactly think of herself as popular.
I mean, she was nice, kind, and occasionally funny, but she didn't think of herself as popular. Considering the fact that her highlight of camp was Dionysus coming up to her in the middle of di...
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BEFORE, IF ANYONE HAD gotten the terrible idea to put Maya and Clarisse alone in a room together, Maya probably would've gone mad just from the stress.
Because 1) Maya was totally an annoying little shit that was prone to irritating everyone in a 10-mile radius of her, and 2) Clarisse was so accomplished that in comparison, Maya felt like a moldy patata, and she was afraid that if she stayed in Clarisse's vicinity for too long, Clarisse would realize that too and punt her ass into the strawberry fields.
Yet, when Clarisse had come begging for Maya's help to heal Chris Rodriguez's mind, trying to hide the stubborn tears filling her eyes, Maya realized that Clarisse was also just as human as the rest of them. And that she might need one more friend.
But, then again, having Maya as a friend was probably more exhausting than ever (just ask Aiden, who had literally had to drag her down from the roof at least three times in the past week to convince her to at least start her summer homework (and when she said start, she meant write her name on the front. She couldn't even be bothered to write the date)).
In fact, Maya was pondering whether or not she could steal her math packet from where Aiden had buried it under his begonias (also, what kind of hiding place was that?) and burn el papel in the pyre as part of her breakfast sacrifice when Clarrise did something unusual.
She actually talked to Maya. Like, of her own free will. This was monumental. This was revolutionary. This was... oh wait, this was terrifying. What if she made another ass of herself? In front of the most dangerous camper here? Oh, well. At least she'd be annihilated with words instead of Lee Fletcher's arrows.
"Why are you hesitant to go on the quest?" Clarisse asked gruffly, glancing at the shorter girl behind her.
"Uh, who says I'm hesitant?" Maya questioned back, not looking her in the eye.
"Everyone," Clarisse answered in a monotone. "We all saw you cough up a lung when Jackson mentioned you could help."
"Well, that's just—that's because..." Maya stuttered before she gave up. Clarisse would see right through her—it wasn't like Maya was subtle (at anything). "Ok, fine, I don't want to go. No offense, but I'd rather not be stuck in a deep dark hole for days with no vending machines. And with people who hate me."
Clarisse sighed as if she knew something Maya didn't (which could be very possible, considering Maya had the brains of una hormiga, but still, it was a little irritating). "Annabeth doesn't hate you."
"Oh, yeah?" Maya bit back. There was a familiar bitterness bubbling up in her voice and she pushed it down. Now was not the time to be unearthing memories and old feelings, especialmente ones she had been trying to bury for years. "Then why is she still treating me like the shit under her sneakers?"
Clarisse snorted despite herself and coughed to cover it up. Maya didn't know whether to be glad that the girl was feeling better or peeved that Clarisse wasn't taking her seriously. Emotional intelligence was obviously not Maya's strong suit.
