Daughter of Apollo

Chapter 13

I tucked some hair behind my ear as Marcus kicked off the dock and started rowing. I picked up my oars, but judging by the way he was rowing steadily, he wouldn't need much help. He was looking down, avoiding my gaze, so I took a second to admire his features. His jawline, his cheekbones, the hard-set way of his lips as he focused on the rhythmic motion of the oars.

"Thank you," I said calmly after a while, when we were a good distance away from the dock and all of the other canoes. He jerked his head up, and I tried not to get sucked into his eyes like I had when we first met. "... And you didn't do anything wrong." He smiled but looked confused. "Earlier. When I freaked out at you."

He didn't say anything, so I looked out on the lake, watching the other campers trying to ram each other or race across the surface of the muddy water. Marcus continued to row easily, not necessarily in any specific direction. His arm muscles were clearly noticeable, and I couldn't help but wonder how his torso would look if he wasn't wearing a life jacket.

"You're different, you know." He finally looked up at me and I turned my head quickly so he wouldn't think I had been staring.

"You mean weird, with no friends, and the kind of person who yells at people for no reason? That kind of different?" I asked, watching his oars complete graceful circles in the water.

He stopped paddling and I was forced to look at him again. "You have friends," he insisted, using a concerned tone. I bit my lip and didn't answer. "Annabeth thinks you're great," he paused. "And I do too. I'm sure everyone will warm up to you. You're sweet, and funny, and guys will line up to date you."

I let out a loud laugh, but he looked serious. "I'm no daughter of Aphrodite," I mumbled after a while. "Like at all."

Suddenly he looked angry. "Why do you keep comparing yourself to them?" 

I was startled by his sharp tone. "Sorry?"

"You know what I said!" he growled. "Those Aphrodite girls didn't do anything to be 'beautiful', and that's all they have going for them. Most of them are spoiled brats who flirt with everyone around."

I looked around quickly, expecting Aphrodite to drop a giant lipstick tube on his head. "What are you trying to say?" I asked, still frustrated. "That I wasn't lucky enough to be pretty?"

"Would you stop twisting my words?" His voice was loud now, and a few campers from other canoes turned to look at us. I didn't notice.

"I'm sorry, but half the time I don't even understand what you're saying!" I screamed back.

He threw up his hands, and the oars he had been holding flew out of the boat, floating quickly out of reach. When I leaned over to grab them, the ones in my lap fell overboard and bobbed up on the other side of the boat. We were oar-less and sitting smack-dab in the middle of the lake.

All the other canoes were heading towards the dock, and no one was paying any attention to us anymore. We sat there for a while, in an awkward silence, as the boat bobbed gently.

"I was trying to say you were pretty, you know," Marcus finally said, breaking the silence. I almost choked on my own spit.