The Half-Blood Project

17- Party City

Percy Jackson

The day is hot, I can feel it from inside the air-conditioned SUV, I'm still sweating like crazy. Grover is awake and Annabeth sleeps soundlessly in the back, from a long night of driving us. We're in the middle of the Nevada desert, we'll stop in Vegas, which I'm excited to visit, I've never been to the never-sleeping city. 

Annabeth's just rolled her eyes at this statement. I swear one day her eyes are going to be stuck in the back of her head from rolling them so often. 

"You think this is a stupid mission?" Grover says softly, fiddling with his reed pipes. I keep my hand on the wheel and glance at my friend, giving him a small smile. 

"Of course this is a stupid mission. But it's our only chance at beating Kronos and finding out about him." 

Grover nods to this and turns the radio on, a soft tune playing. It helps me focus on the long road, it's empty too, very few cars passing by and it's mostly dark cars with the windows tinted, government-issued cars. Annabeth told me that most of Nevada are owned by the government. Do they have demigods locked up in Area 51? Thinking that they are aliens? 

That makes me nervous. I don't want to end up contained in a white cell room, the agents beating answers out of my mouth. 

"Tell me about yourself Perce." 

I sigh. Should I tell him I killed my stepfather seven years ago? Or that I was abused half my life? Not great conversation starters. 

"I grew up in Manhatten. Mom died when I was twelve, ran away after that. Found my cousins and formed the Half-Blood-Project." I say shortly, not keen to get into details of my personal life.

Grover laughs quietly. "I can smell lies too Percy. You don't have to tell me. just talk about what you did as a kid? You go anywhere?" 

I grip the wheel tighter. "We didn't have money growing up, but Mom did her best. We went to Montauk every summer, without my stepdad, just us and the ocean." 

Grover nods. "I grew up in Colorado, the Rockies. My dad, granddad, and uncle all died trying to find Pan." 

"Pam? Like the cooking spray? That's at any grocery store dude." 

Grover shakes his head. "P-A-N. God of wilderness and satyrs. Went missing two thousand years ago. Every satyr wants to find him. No luck." 

"And you want to find him too? That has to be bad luck." 

"I know I can find him, Percy. It's my life goal. I have to." 

I don't argue with him. I don't say that he'll die too, going to find this lost god. He has little chance. Everyone had two thousand years to find him. And if they can't, then there's little hope and luck to find Pan. Whoever he may be. 

Instead, I focus on the road ahead, the blue of the desert sky, and the hot wind that blows against the car, I feel the heat and it's not the humid heat of Florida or the sticky of the Midwest. It's dry and hot, unforgiving. 

"You ever wish we could go back and fix all of this? Lead normal lives? Go to college and have a family." Grover blurts and don looks at me. Honestly? Yes. If I could, I'd take that normal life and use it. Go to college, drink my way through essays and lectures, smoke at parties. I'd get a normal, real job that I'll always complain about and wish for better pay. I'd fall in love unexpectedly, get married at a cheesy chapel, have a couple of kids, go on wild vacations and live a normal life. 

I want that normal life so bad. 

But that's impossible for me. For Grover, for Annabeth. For all of the half-bloods that walk the earth, hoping that this day isn't their last. 

If I lived a normal life, I wouldn't know Jason, Nico, Will, Piper, Grover, and Annabeth. I wouldn't be able to lead my trainees and watch them grow into the people they are today, that funny feeling of pride swelling in my chest and I enjoy that feeling more than I'll ever let on. 

I wouldn't be able to fight monsters or breath underwater, use Riptide or bicker with the blonde in the back. 

I don't know what I want. 

Maybe a life where I don't know if I'm going to die? Maybe a balance between normal and crazy? 

Is there a balance like that? 

"I don't know." I finally respond after being silent for a few miles in the heat. Grover shrugs and turns the music up. It's some song about being in love with a girl they can't have. Isn't that the structure of every genre of music? Love? It's a little sickening to hear a rock song about love, a pop song about longing, and a country song about a home-town girl. Do they know how to sing about anything else? 

"I was thinking afterbirths all over, we can restart Camp-Half-Blood on long island, it's nicer than that warehouse." Grover wrinkles his nose in disgust. He complains about being in the musty, dusty warehouse. But I enjoy being in my little loft more than I let on. It's nice to get away from everything. 

"May-maybe. If we win this war." 

"When we win this war. Show some optimism." 

"No." 

--

"Hey Annabeth, we're here." Grover shakes her shoulder. She springs up, her gray eyes dark with sudden adrenaline. The sun is slowly sinking into the Nevada desert, the sky a Cheeto orange, yellow and pink smothering parts of the sky. We're driving in the heart of Las Vegas, casinos strip clubs, and hotels leering over us, casting shadows. I stare in complete aw of this magical place. 

"Vegas has the most hotel rooms in the world, and yet every time I come here, they're all booked," Annabeth grumbled. She glared at the bright city lights. She told me she'd been here before, but never why. It was curious. 

"We should find a place before it gets dark." She says. Well no duh. The monsters would be after us soon enough and we don't need anyone to get hurt today. 

We stop by every hotel that we can find, but they're either booked or too expensive. Or some other excuse so they don't have to give room to a bunch of dirty, sweaty, sooty teens. 

"Where are we gonna go?" Grover puts his head in his hands and runs his fingers through his curly hair, careful to avoid his sharp, curved horns. 

"There!" I point across the street, it's a tall hotel, with flashing, glimmering lights and fancy cars pulling up, people in suits getting out 

"If we can afford a broom closet, I'll be surprised," Annabeth mutters dryly and we manage not to get hit by traffic on the way to the hotel. 

The lobby is crazy, there's a water slide, arcade games, a roller coaster, and many signs promising restaurants and hundreds, hundreds of people milling around, laughing, throwing food at each other. 

"Oh, new guests!" The receptionist cried with glee and before we could ask for a room, he stuffed three green cards into our hands. 

"Room 717, seventh floor, if you need anything ask." He clasps his hands together, pointing to the bronze burnished elevators. I was confused. He's just handing us three cards and a hotel room without payment? 

Was this some sick joke? 

Annabeth noticed too and frowned, clearly thinking. "How much is on these cards?" 

The receptionist looked back up and for a scary moment I saw a flicker of flames in his baby blue eyes, then he cracks a warm smile and looked at us like we were children. 

"Oh infinity, just like your stay."