Storm Clouds

Percy's P.O.V.

Mom has been so happy ever since I returned after the war with Gaia. She absolutely smothered me in hugs and kisses when I went in, and at that point I was glad only Annabeth was with me, because the guys would never have let me forget it if they saw my mom acting like that to me. On the other hand, it was really sweet and I had missed her so much; after all, it’d been nearly a year since I’d last saw her.

It was now the morning after and, after showering and dressing, I went into kitchen to see Mom placing a plate of blue waffles onto the table.
I grinned when I heard her humming: she only did that when she was truly happy and at peace. I knew my mother worried about me a lot, and it hurt to think that she was stressing because of me.

‘‘Percy!’’ Her smile widened when she saw me. ‘‘Come, sit down, dear. I’ve made all your favorites.’’

‘‘Thanks, it looks delicious, Mom.’’ I grinned and kissed her on the side of the forehead.

It tasted delicious, too. Mom had made blue waffles, blue pancakes, and even some blue fried egg. It was so good to just be with my mom, happily eating breakfast, as if the past summer has just been a normal one. A nice change.

The rest of the Seven were coming over this afternoon to meet my mom, partly because she’d insisted on meeting the teenagers who’d helped me save the world.

Before I left to meet up with them, Mom handed me a box of blue cookies to munch on (and share with the guys, but that’s probably not gonna happen - oh, well), and almost reluctantly let me leave.
I had my skateboard with me, so I cruised along with my backpack and pen, grateful to finally get a chance to act like a normal teenager, if only for a little while.

I was only a few streets away from home when I first noticed something weird. It didn’t exactly scream Monster Alert! in my head, but I was cautious as I approached them to go past.

It was an odd group of people. There were three adults: an elderly man with ridiculously long hair and beard, a middle-aged man with a scars along his face and neck, and another of a similar age, but with long black hair and worry lines across his forehead. With them were three teenagers, around my age: one looked like a paler, more scrawny, bespectacled me, one had crazy bushy hair and her arms crossed, whilst the last had ginger hair and freckles, and was looking around warily.

Whilst the adults seemed to be dressed in some weird robe-dress-toga thing, the teens were wearing normal clothing: jeans and shirts with jackets. They appeared to be looking at a large piece of paper.

‘‘No - if we’re here, it should be a few down ...’’ I think I heard one mutter, but I was too far to hear properly.

However, just as I passed, the girl stepped back and nearly tripped over my front of my skateboard. And I say nearly because just as her legs gave way, I caught her, so we looked as though we were doing an awkward dip during a dance on a skateboard.

‘‘Hermione!’’ the boys exclaimed.

She pulled herself out of my arms, and, face flushed, she turned and told me, still shocked, ‘‘Thanks. Sorry for tripping over your -’’

‘‘Hey, it’s no biggie,’’ I said, smiling. ‘‘You could have gone into the road.’’
But she still looked awkward and worried, so I gave her a lopsided grin and added, ‘‘Don’t worry about it, really - at least we know I still have girls falling for me.’’

It worked, and soothed the tension. They laughed and turned back to what they were doing before, as I carried on my way.

At the end of the street I turned and looked back at them - except they’d disappeared. Frowning slightly, I convinced myself that they'd have just walked away, and it was completely normal - because it was - and smiled for reassurance. Then I looked down at my watch and groaned.

I was late.

Annabeth was going to kill me.

Honestly, I should have known. If Kronos and Gaia couldn’t kill me, my girlfriend would.