Rainbow Drops [PJ]

Κεφάλαιο III - Twinkle Toes

I nodded my head absentmindedly as Lee blabbered on. I believe it was about the history of poetry and some controversial theories on the subject.

I wasn't listening to any of it. Lee was a great friend but his lectures on medieval Spanish poets made me want to voluntarily hand myself over to some monsters.

My gaze wondered over to the Hermes table, where a large group of the rowdier boys were laughing loudly and cheering on a game of poker, using food as money.

Luke stood out from his siblings, not only because he was one of the oldest and, in my opinion, the best-looking, but because he had this demeanour about him which none of his other siblings possessed.

I could see that from where I was sitting he was helping one of the newest campers, a son of Hermes, to learn the game. He was so involved in the eleven-year-old's cards that he was loosing himself, not that he seemed bothered.

For a brief second his blue eyes fluttered up towards the table for Apollo's kids, where I was sat with Lee. Our eyes met. I hadn't spoken to him since Capture the Flag, not only because we were both still angry at the other, but we'd both been busy these past few days.

He was the unofficial camper that welcomed all the newbies and, surprisingly, considering we were approaching the end of summer, we'd had a wave of new campers this week. Not just because he was the head counciler for the Hermes cabin, but because he was a person who the younger teens looked up to; he was a role model.

I had spend most of the week helping upgrade the climbing area in camp after it mysteriously broke down after a child of Hephestus fell off the monkey bars.

I had volenteered to keep myself distracted, not that it seemed to be working. My mind was constantly drifting off to the things I was desperately trying to ignore. It was getting bad, so very bad. My bottom lip was constantly bleeding from my bad habit of biting, and the bags under my eyes were looking darker by the day.

The dreams didn't help either, but ever demigod had the misfortune of being blessed with dreaded dreams that terrorised you.

My earliest memory of these dreams was when I was four; I woke up screaming and one of my nannies comforted me all night. She'd only started work the day before, and there was something awfully familiar about her. She left a few weeks later and I never saw her again, which was a shame, my toddler self felt at home around her.

"Aurora," someone snapped me out of daydream.

I silently cursed myself for distracting myself from reality, yet again.

"Yes, " I looked at the little blond kid sat next to me.

"How fast can you run?"

I blinked. The question had stumped me. "Uh, I'm not really sure -"

The boy, who couldn't have been much older than nine, produced from his satchel a clipboard, a pen and a chronometer. "Can I time you?" He interrupted before furiously scribbling on the sheet page.

I opened my mouth and shut it again, resembling a goldfish. "Uh -"

"Will!"

The boy froze, his hand mid-scrible. His eyes blinked innocently as Lee glared at him, interrupting his speech on Neruda and how fascinating he found his poems.

"What did I say about asking people strange questions?"

The little blond boy gave him a toothy grin. "Sorry, Lee."

Lee gave him another stern look. When Will looked away, he gave me an amused grin before turning around to answer someone's question (I don't know why anyone would purposely listen to Lee's nonstop blabber) about sixteenth century sonnets.