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Marlowe was mad at Percy.
Scratch that, she was furious.
How dare he just leave her there without even saying goodbye. There was no note, no sign that he was even there, nothing.
She thought that they were friends. And last she checked, friends say goodbye before leaving for an entire school year.
Spending her first full year at camp was supposed to be fun. Marlowe should have been excited to do festivities and experience what it would be like at camp for real, but instead, she kept having a burning thought of Percy in the back of her head. She kept wanting him to miraculously show up, even though she knew he wouldn't.
Pretty soon, the leaves started changing colors; the greens fading into orange and red. The grass that Marlowe used to love rolling around in began to turn gray and die.
The Apollo cabin grew quite quiet, seeing as the campers living there went home for the year. Marlowe was left with a few of her siblings, but it wasn't the same without everyone.
At night she would find herself staring out the window, watching the stars twinkle and the moon rise high in the sky. Her green eyes would sparkle in reflection, her thoughts reaching out to Artemis for some sort of sign.
The maiden goddess was someone Marlowe used to silently call for every night in her old life. Now, as she sat by herself with a small candle beside her on the windowsill, the blonde found herself falling back on old habits.
Though, now that her life was different, the conversations she had with the goddess in her head weren't the same. Now they were more like check in's, to make sure everything was falling into place.
And even though Artemis would never reply back, Marlowe knew she was listening. Her whole existence in the Percy Jackson universe was proof of that.
To distract herself from the silence, Marlowe spent a majority of her time at the archery range. She thought that she would be able to breathe doing something that she loved, but the more she watched her arrows rip through the bullseye, the more she remembered her time there with Percy, and the angrier she got.
Her breaths would become shallow as she quickly replaced her hand with another arrow after just firing her last one. Sweat beaded her forehead and her mouth turned dry from the excessive workout, but she wouldn't stop.
Her grip on her bow was tight, and soon enough, her fingers started to bleed from the splinters constantly appearing.
Every time that damn black haired boy appeared in her mind, she fired another arrow, each one harsher than the last.
