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"Don't sell yourself short, Bailey."
BAILEY-GRACE RIVERA SCOWLED DEEPLY, her expression twisting with distaste as a 14 year old Connor Stoll danced jovially around her. Blue eyes glinting, and blonde hair mussed, he laughed and sang a badly rhyming song (one that, Bailey suspected, was aimed specifically to tease the Apollo cabin. )
"Bailey'll win for sure they said, Mr. D even bet a dime! Let me put that rumor to bed, it was me who won this time!" Connor chanted, ignoring the begrudging stares of other campers— piling their dollar bills into the hand of Cecil Armstrong (as usual, the only demigod to have bet on Connor winning.) Bailey was glowering by now— still soggy from her unplanned swim, following the river nymphs deciding to dunk her canoe into the chilly water. Her hair was dripping from the ends, and her nose was pink around the edges.
"Esto es una estupidez." Bailey grumbled, turning on her heel to stomp towards the Apollo cabin— continuing to ignore curious expressions directed towards her. She only made it half way down the path, when Will Solace and Delaney Tanner caught up with her.
"Slow down Bailey, my legs weren't made for cardio." Laney huffed, struggling to keep pace with the girl.
"Technically that's exactly what they were made for— but, that's not the point." Will began, cutting himself off as he met Laney's pointed expression. Bailey stopped finally near the mess hall—glancing to either side at the two. "It's one loss Bailey, that makes you like, I don't know, 3,056 to one." Will said, his voice softening.
"It's not that. It's Stoll. I hate giving him any reason at all to bother me more, and believe me he's going to have a hay day with this." Bailey mumbled, "And— well, I don't know. He's good at everything— archery, sword fighting, pulling pranks, being an annoying little twit, pottery, rock climbing. Canoeing was the one thing I had on him. The one thing I had on anyone. And I lost."
Laney's expression dropped a little. Whatever she had been expecting to be the reason for Bailey's mood— it wasn't that. She didn't think Bailey had ever admitted to being inferior to Connor Stoll, and it was the last thing she had expected to spew from her mouth in that moment. Bailey looked at the ground, her expression rotten.
"Don't sell yourself short, Bailey." Will said, placing a hand on her shoulder.
"You still have canoeing. And even if you didn't— you're smart, fierce, and a better with a spear than anyone I've ever met. You don't have to win every race Bailey, and you definitely don't have to prove yourself to anyone here. Especially Connor Stoll." Laney added. Bailey glanced up, but she didn't look convinced. Will and Laney slung their arms around her, so when they continued down the path, they walked as a single unit. Bailey wondered how she got lucky enough to have friends like them.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ
CONNOR STOLL GULPED FROM BEHIND A TREE, watching as Bailey continued down the path with Will and Laney at her side. He hadn't meant to eavesdrop— but upon having heard his last name he was overcome with curiosity. He snuck down the path to the Apollo cabin behind the trio— and heard every word of Bailey's discussion. Her outwardly admitting that he, Connor Stoll, her least favorite person on earth, was better at her than everything. Her eyes dropping to the ground in embarrassment, and her hair falling across her face.
Connor was afraid the image would be stuck in his head for the rest of his life.
Despite popular belief, Connor Stoll definitely didn't hate Bailey Rivera. He had always viewed their quote unquote rivalry as all in good fun. It was just that she did hate him— and with all her glowering and teasing remarks he was too stubborn to sit there and take it without dishing some back. He had never meant to hurt Bailey, not really. But he had, and the fact made him feel a little sick to his stomach.
He wasn't even sure what had happened. Bailey had been beating him as always— ahead by at least a meter. He had shouted at her something teasing about him practicing his rowing all week, and her having no chance at winning. He remembered her glancing back, hot anger brewing in her eyes. She had paused, momentarily distracted by her fury. Seconds later her canoe was tipping over, scaly arms reaching up from the lack to push against the wood. Bailey went tumbling into the water.
He had been too stunned to move at first— but when Bailey climbed forcefully back onto her canoe, he had shrugged to himself, and surged forward. He crossed the finish line while she regained her composure, spitting water from her mouth, and ringing out her hair.
Now he could see that that was sort of a jerk-y move— but what else was he supposed to do? Chivalrously save her from the depths of the lake and allow her to cross before him? Even Bailey would have scoffed at the notion. No matter what Connor presently felt for the girl, he knew she would always hate him. There was no point tearing down the wall of teasing comments & competitive spirit they had built over the last few years.
But he had to say, it was hard seeing her upset because of him. Disappointed in herself, and embarrassed because of him. He could hardly believe that she thought highly of his abilities— and was even more so shocked that she compared herself to him. She was Bailey Rivera: wickedly smart, and equally strong. Witty, and friendly, and beautiful. There was barely a person in camp who disliked her, and it was easy to see why. He was just Connor Stoll. He made people laugh. How could that ever compare to the compassion and talent within Bailey Rivera.
