The Blonde and the Bootlegger: A Percy Jackson story

Aux Anciens Canadiens

A/N Feels and drama ahead.

Thalia P.O.V

Only a couple of weeks after my first archery competition of the summer, I was back in Montauk for another one. This time, I was staying with the Castellans.
Luke set up an archery but in the backyard so I could practice. None of that "sharing first place" shit, I was going to beat Zoë Nightshade's prissy ass this time.
I put on a white polo shirt and slacks along with a printed necktie and scarf around my head and went into the yard to practice.

"Morning Thales," Luke called to me from the patio.
"You're awake early," I answered.
"I had a hard time sleeping."
Looking at Luke, this was obvious. His face was nearly white and his eyes looked dark and sunken. He paced anxiously back and forth across the blue flagstones of the patio. On one of the wrought iron deck tables was a pile of cards and letters.
"The mail came. Each of us got a postcard from Annabeth. Apparently, she's in Quebec."
"Yeah, I know. She went there with Percy Jackson."
Luke let out a scandalized gasp.
"Do her parents know that she's traveling alone with him?"
"Don't be such an old lady, Luke. She's not a little girl anymore, let her have some fun."
The two of us had known Annabeth known since she was seven and Luke tended to still think of her as a seven-year-old. He continued being shocked that she went off on a romantic getaway with her lover.
"I'm going to tell Mr. and Mrs. Chase what she's up to..."
"Don't you dare! She and I will never forgive you if you do."
I gave him the glare that I perfected over the years, the one that always put the fear of God in people.
"Alright, you win. I won't tattle. But I can't believe Annabeth would do something like that. She was always a good girl."
That was something I'd never understand about men. They liked to keep a clear distinction between the "good girls" they courted and married or coddled as little sisters and the "bad girls" they fooled around with on the side and looked down on. But real women were never so black or white.
A/N a song that would fit in this scene is "Good Girls" by 5oS

One of the foot brought out a calling card on a silver tray.
"Excuse me, Master Luke," he said, "A young lady dropped by to visit. I told her that we weren't receiving this early in the morning, so she left her card."
"Thank you, Alabaster," Luke replied, daintily picking up the calling card which read Kelly M. Pouzzi, "I'll call her in a little bit."
"Who was that?" I asked him.
"The daughter of some friends of my parents."
Luke said this in a nonchalant tone and shrugged it off as something unimportant.
"What could she want?"
"I haven't the faintest idea."
Luke slumped down into one of the patio chairs and folded his arms behind his head. I sat in the chair next to him and reached for a carton of cigarettes and a book of matches.
"What's this girl's name?"
"Kelly...why do you care?"
I put a cigarette in my mouth and lit it.
"I don't know," I shrugged, trying to act like I didn't care.
Why did it bother me that he was calling other girls? I couldn't help but think that this Kelly girl had something to do with why Luke looked like hell and why he was in such a bad mood.
"Luke," I began, "You said you weren't able to sleep last night, are you feeling alright?"
"I'm fine, Thalia. What's with all these questions?"
"God damn it, Luke! I'm concerned about you. You've looked like a ghost all summer and you've not been acting like yourself."
"And how haven't I been acting myself?"
"For one thing, you're acting like an ass-hole..."
Luke slapped me across the face. I responded by giving him a good jab with my right hook.
"I'm sorry, Thales," he said, clutching his nose.
"Damn right, you are," I replied.
He sat back down in his chair. I had never seen a man look more broken than he did at that moment; I thought he was going to start crying.
"I'm sick and I'm scared."
"What are you sick with? TB? Cancer?"
"It's more mental than physical. That's all I can say."
It was one of New York's worst kept secrets that his mother was not right in the head. I've often noticed that they had a similar temperament: mercurial; shifting from high spirited and vivacious to sluggish and melancholy, from sweet and gentle to angry and violent at a moment's notice. Perhaps she'd passed down whatever was wrong with her to her son.
Before I could say another more, Luke finished the conversation with "I better call Kelly back" and went inside.
My first objective was to find out who the hell this Kelly was.
A/N A song that reminds me of Luke and Thalia is "How to Save a Life" by The Fray.