𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒, apollo

𝐱𝐱𝐱𝐯𝐢. i'd take that misogynistic card now

"GOD I WISH I could have seen that," I sigh tying up my shoelace. "I mean, Grover, in a wedding dress! Amazing," I mumble, but Percy chews on the inside of his cheek. "I don't know, I think he's in trouble."

I shake my head, "I'll tell you what's trouble, the Camp not allowing us to go back, yet." Before her afternoon shift, my mom was supposed to drive us to the Camp Half-Blood tomorrow morning, but she got a message last night from Chiron saying that Percy and I should stay in New York until further notice.

I tried asking Apollo what was up with that, but he changed the subject every time I did, so I knew that something was up. You see, the god that lingered in my thoughts has this inability to lie for some reason. He literally can't physically lie, so his 'no answer' answer was enough for me to realise that something was wrong.

Also, for the past nine months, me and my mom have been trying to mend our relationship. I still could see the guilt in her eyes every time I glanced at her when she thought I wasn't looking. But, she's actually been pretty great. I found out that when she used to be my age she also loved fashion magazines and even kept her favourites for me from back in the day.

But it's not like I forgot the past seventeen years either. Percy definitely didn't. He wasn't so understanding when I told him of my mom's situation, but he now only sends glares at her back and not to her face, which is something.

Some yelling snapped me out of my thoughts and I see that asshole Sloan moving to give Tyson one of his infamous good ol' kicks to the stomach. Sloan whatever his first name is, wasn't big or strong, but he acted like he was.

He had eyes of a pit bull, shaggy black hair, and he was always dressed in expensive but sloppy clothes, as if he wanted everybody to see how little he cared about his family's money. One of his front teeth was chipped from the time he'd taken his daddy's Porsche for a joyride and ran into a PLEASE SLOW DOWN FOR CHILDREN sign.

And then there was Tyson. He was the only homeless kid at Meriwether College Prep. He was probably six-foot-three and built like the Abominable Snowman, but he got easily frustrated and tears threatened to fall from his eyes almost every second. The guy was huge, but was scared of just about everything, maybe even his own reflection too.

His face was kind of misshapen and brutal-looking. I couldn't tell you what colour his eyes were, because I could never make myself look higher than his crooked teeth. His voice was deep, but he talked funny, like a much younger kid — I guess because he'd never gone to school before coming to Meriwether.

Honestly, he was a bit pathetic, but I guess Cy had a thing for strays — for example me and now Tyson, because he always came to his rescue. And me being best friends with the guy who has a growing hero complex, I started to look out for the big guy too.

Anyway, Sloan snuck up behind him and tried to jump him, and Tyson panicked. He swatted Sloan away a little too hard. Sloan ended up flying fifteen feet and got tangled in the little kids' tyre swing.

"You freak!" Sloan yelled. "Why don't you go back to your cardboard box!" Tyson's face became red and he looked down, no doubt his eyes already glossy from the unshed tears. He sat down on the jungle gym so hard he bent the bar, and buried his head in his hands.

"Will you shut up, Sloan?!" Percy shouted. The guy just sneered at him. "Why do you even bother, Jackson? You might have friends if you weren't always sticking up for that freak."

I rolled my eyes, finally stepping in, "He has a friend, buddy. And unlike you, he doesn't need his daddy's money to have one."

"Just wait till PE, Nova," Sloan called. "You are so dead." I gritted my teeth, sighing. Why do I always find myself in trouble with that guy? I'd rather have everyone fear me like on my first days at camp than this.