Wildfires, Heroes of Olympus ₂

040, demeter the forgetter

CHAPTER     FORTY
SILVIANA  DUVALL

Sylvie was going to voluntarily open the glass doors beneath them and plummet to her death.

"What...?" Percy rubbed his eyes. "Oh, we just fell asleep."

They'd been found passed out in the stables by Finley and Frank, and Sylvie was sure she'd never been more embarrassed. She hadn't meant to fall asleep here with Percy. But both of them drifted off, and now, they had to deal with Frank's face of horror and Finley's incessant cackling.

"Oh, my gods, this is amazing!" Finley cheered. "Frank, you should've waited for me to get a camera!"

"It's not funny, Finley." Frank swallowed. To Sylvie and Percy, "Everyone thinks you've been kidnapped. We've been scouring the ship. When Coach Hedge finds out—oh, gods, you've been here all night?"

Finley shook her head, shrugging unsympathetically. "You're goners."

"It's not like that!" Sylvie begged. Her face and ears were as red as strawberries. "We just came down here to talk. We fell asleep. Accidentally. That's it."

"Kissed a lot," Percy said.

Sylvie hit him, making a miserable noise. "Not helping!"

"Aw, it was cute." Finley tried to make Sylvie feel better, but she only accomplished the opposite. You two all cuddled up. Skipper hugging you like a little teddy bear."

"We'd better..." Frank pointed to the stable doors. "Uh, we're supposed to meet for breakfast. Would you explain what you did—I mean, didn't do?"

"Yeah, you two scandalous heathens are on your own for this one," Finley said. She saluted them while clapping Frank on the shoulder with her other hand. "Come on, Frankie, I want steak."

"It's breakfast time," he followed after her, sounding scandalized.

When everyone finally gathered in the mess hall, it wasn't quite as bad as Sylvie had feared. Jason and Piper were mostly relieved. Leo couldn't stop grinning and muttering, "Classic. Classic." Annabeth joined Finley in wishing that someone had brought a camera. Only Hazel seemed scandalized, maybe because she was from the 1940s. She kept fanning her face and wouldn't meet Sylvie or Percy's eyes.

Naturally, Coach Hedge went ballistic. Sylvie was—like she'd alluded to last night—scared shitless of his reaction, but Percy only seemed able to focus on the fact that Coach Hedge was barely five feet tall.

"Never in my life!" Coach bellowed, waving his bat and knocking over a plate of apples. "Against the rules! Irresponsible!"

"I'm so sorry," Sylvie apologized. Her face flamed, and she was actively trying to curl into herself. "I swear it was an accident. We—We were just talking, and we fell asleep."