Return of the Titans

[OLD] CHAPTER ELEVEN

It was hard paying attention to combat training when I was more interested in the water girl.

She lingered around the edge of the racetrack, handing out cups of ice cold water to children that had been previously tested in training. She nursed their bruises with small bags of ice if they felt like they needed it, but didn't stay long for chit-chat. Hardly a minute was spent on each kid, where she would then move on to the next unlucky soul who was groaning from their wounds.

But it wasn't the fact that I wanted to focus on literally anything else that made her catch my eye. It also wasn't because I had zoned out after the sixth child had landed flat on their butt from a harsh roundhouse kick to the chest. It was mainly her appearance that made me stare amidst the painful moans of the others.

She was a dryad, that much was true. Her dark complexion had hints of pea green (that, and she was barefoot, something that all of them seem to do, I've noticed). She shuffled along the grass in a long, flowing sundress, a soft poppy yellow that brought out the royal green shawl that was draped over her head and shoulders. Once or twice, she stopped in giving out refreshments to lift her dress up a little, just out of reach from grabby satyrs or biting ants.

Like I said, I didn't mean to gawk at her but compared to everything else that was happening, she was pretty much the only thing that didn't look chewed up or spat out. Not even the centaurs, who, by this time, I've perceived as invincible, could stand straight after an upperclassman SST swept their hooves out from under them.

She was, by far, the nicest person that I've ever seen.

Jay, on the other hand, was not.

He shoveled vanilla pudding into his mouth as if it was the last meal that he was ever going to have, and sometimes without the complimentary spoon. The creamy substance dripped from the sides of his mouth so where it seemed like he had rabies. But just before I could ask him to take a breath, he tossed the now-empty carton away, where it was swiftly picked up by onlooking satyrs.

"That was delicious," Jay said, licking his fingers and smacking his lips with each stroke. "I couldn't taste the meds that much, though. D'ya think I'll have to eat more for it to kick in?"

"Not unless you swear to eat like a normal person," I said and made quick work of cleaning up his face. The corner of his shirt did just fine as I shoved his face into it, rubbing it around furiously. "And besides, those are for people who're hurt. You hardly have a scratch. And quit your struggling!"

Jay both verbally and physically protested against me helping to straighten him out. He tried nudging me away, but that did as much as simply blowing on me to move back. So, he took up whining for me to stop, hoping that his intolerable screeches would get me to do so.

"Back off, woman!" he said and aimed a shove against my shoulder. "You're gonna rub my skin fresh off my face if you don't stop!"

"You'll just do that to yourself," I muttered, but I let him go, just so he wouldn't have a heart attack. The boy had worked himself up a storm from the ravaging eating alone, so the act of cleaning him had practically thrown him over the edge.

Jay smoothed down his already unkempt hair as best he could, all while shooting me a hardened glare. "I like you better when you aren't paying attention to anything. You're much more enjoyable to be around."