Come Together 》Octavian's Story

Hot Stuff

Disclaimer: as I am not Rick Riordan, except for the original characters and plot (which belong to my co-author TheRenewedEve and I) all the PJO stuffs like CHB belong to him, not us. Also, this is my first go at fanfiction writing, so please comment/review kindly! Anyways, on with the story!
P. S. Just to be clear, Jesse is a girl (my mum thought Jesse was a boy.)
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Jesse's P.O.V.

By the third date, we had to run away. And I don't mean eloping - we weren't even the ones dating, that was our parents. But lately, things had been getting bad for Penn and I, so we did -well, I was going to say the most logical thing, but that's bull. No, we did the most instinctive thing--we went on the run. Let me explain.

  My adoptive dad and Penn's mom (both were single parents) had just started dating about a month ago. Since Penn and I were fifteen, after all, whenever they went on a date, they just left us at my dad's house instead of hiring a babysitter (teensitter, whatever). This time, their third date, they decided that Penn and I should have a sleepover so we could "bond".

  Don't get me wrong, I liked Penn. The only problem was, Penn was kind of shy, almost like she was afraid to make friends. To be fair, I was probably a little intimidating to her; I'm one of those loud, sassy people, kind of outspoken (but usually right, wink wink), so I guess I shouldn't judge over character traits.

  Now we were sitting in the living room, using our overnight bags as bean bags, with my pet ferret, Fredric, for company, and trying to "bond". Key word: trying. Penn was still insisting on being shy. To try and loosen her up a bit, I made up a game where we had to ask a question about the other person, and they had to answer truthfully. Like, truth or date without the dare. So, a little boring, but you have to work on people to get them to open up. We had already asked all the normal stuff, like have you had your first kiss (no for us both) and all that nonsense, so the questions were getting a bit more serious.

  Oops. Speaking of questions, I think she was trying to ask me something right now.

  "What?" I asked. "Sorry, I spaced for a moment."

  "I was asking what your dad does for a living. I'm sure my mom told me, but I space sometimes, too," she said, smiling shyly at the last part.
I smiled back at her. "My dad's a neurosurgeon. He mostly works at St John's, but sometimes he flies out to Mayo Clinic to help for a week or so," I answered, adding, "That's probably how our parents met, isn't your mum a nurse?"

  "Yeah, a pediatric nurse, now it's your turn," she answered abruptly. Hmm, willing to ask but not to answer, I noted. Oh well, I'll find out whatever it is eventually, I thought.

  Now, what to ask her? I wasn't very good at this serious stuff, so I better think about it good.

  I sized her up with my eyes; she was fidgety, but that could've just been nerves, pretty easy going, might even be the kind to party if she wasn't so anxious.

  She nervously tapped her fingers as she watched me watching her. A little too late, I realized I was kind of staring her down and I mumbled an apology as I continued to think.

  Judging from her outfit of sweats and a long-sleeve tee, letting her shoulder-length reddish-blonde hair flow free, she wasn't super into fashion. Well, I wasn't either, I was wearing leggings and leg warmers and a hoodie, using a navy bandanna as a headband on my long dark brown hair. (Don't judge our outfits too harshly; it gets cold up in New Hampshire in autumn.) Around my neck was an inch-long bronze-ish key on a chain of the same metal. It was the only jewelry I ever wore, and I wore it only because my dad said it was important. Go figure why, but I trusted him so I wore it. I fingered it as I once again got lost in thought.