gnossienne
n. the realisation that you didn't actually know someone as well as you thought you did
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'Look, I never wanted to be a half-blood.
Let's start from the top, shall we?
My name is Cassandra Jackson, but everyone usually calls me Ca...
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We travelled for miles, exhausted and tired. My head pounded, but I'd stopped feeling dizzy a couple miles back. Percy still persisted to help me along, even though I told him multiple times that I didn't need any help.
My stomach grumbled in hunger.
"Smashed apple?" Grover offered. We found out that when I was thrown from the explosion, I wasn't the only one to get hurt. The apples had taken a blow as they muffled the landing. "Or dented tins?" The tins also got mixed up in the cross fire.
"I'll have a bit of smashed apple." Percy said, grabbing a handful, slurping it up, thirsty and hungry. Annabeth and me shrugged, and took a large handful.
We carried on for a couple more miles and Percy had finally allowed me to walk on my own. However, all of a sudden, Percy froze, sniffling the air like Grover would normally do.
"Do you smell that?" He asked. We all stopped and took in deep sniffs. At first, the only thing I could smell was the woods around us, but then it hit me.
Food. Fried, greasy, yummy food.
"Is that a neon sign?" Annabeth asked, pointing up ahead. We followed her gaze and sure enough, the colours of a neon sign poked through the dense trees.
"Let's go and find out." I smirked as we continued our trek.
Eventually we came across a deserted two-lane road. On the other side was a closed down gas station, a tattered billboard for 1990's movie and one open business, which was the source of the glowing lights and the delicious smell.
I wasn't a fast food restaurant like I hoped. It was one of those weird roadside curio shops that sell lawn flamingos and wooden Indians and cement grizzly bears and stuff like that. The main building was a long low warehouse, surrounded by acres of statuary. The neon sign above the gate was impossible for me to read. If anything is worse for my dyslexia than regular English was curvy red neon writing.
I could tell that neither me, Percy or Annabeth were going to be able to read it any time soon.
"What the heck does that say?" Percy asked.
"Beats me."
"I don't know."
Grover translated for us: 'Aunty Em's Garden Gnome Emporium.'
Percy crossed the street, his nose stuck in the air, obviously following the smell of the food.
"Hey..." Grover warned.
"Do you reckon they'll take pity if we tell them a sob story?" I questioned.
"The lights are on inside. Do you think they're open?" Annabeth thought outloud.
"Snack bar." Percy said wistfully.
"Snack bar." She agreed.
"Maybe they do milkshakes." I grinned, heading towards the front door.
