blurred | revised

VIII • gesture without motion

CHAPTER EIGHT

G E S T U R E  W I T H O U T  M O T I O N

• • •

Annabeth was avoiding Esperanza.

That wasn't entirely accurate; after she began to feel sick, Drew and Chris insisted that she take time to rest, and she had been trapped in bed for a full day. Drew had approached her, several hours ago, and told her that Esperanza was wondering if she could visit. Annabeth had said no. She hesitated before saying it, though that did not make her feel much better. The guilt slithered around in her chest.

It didn't make sense. Esperanza had been the only person she had cared about up until a handful of days ago. Esperanza had been her entire world, and it was so unfair for Annabeth to refuse to see her. She knew that, logically.

But she was scared. Esperanza's eyes had been so knowledgeable and certain that it unnerved Annabeth, deep to her core. Not for the first time, Annabeth began to wonder what, exactly, Esperanza was; these people were children of mythical gods, so what did that make Esperanza? No one else seemed to know and they were all wary of the young child, content to give her a wide berth.

So, Annabeth was avoiding Esperanza for the time being, content to lay in a bed that did not belong to her and sleep without fear of waking up back in the cellar. (That was a lie, but maybe if she keeps repeating it, then the fear will go away.)

The sky outside her window was dark, but she couldn't see the stars. The majority of the sky was blotted out with smoke, which billowed from an unknown source. Drew's mouth was a tight line every time she looked at it, but Annabeth had insisted that the curtains remain open; she had gone years without seeing the sky, and she was never going to choose to look away from it ever again. According to Drew, smoke meant burning, which meant that whatever monsters had taken over the world were continuing to wreak destruction over a nearby city. According to Drew, there were weeks where the sky was hidden behind a shroud of smoke, weeks where the Sun was unable to shine. The thought of that made Annabeth shiver beneath the many blankets that were piled on top of her.

A knock sounded at the door, startling Annabeth from her thoughts. She sat up as the door carefully opened, revealing Cameron to be standing sheepishly on the other side.

"Hi," he said with an awkward wave, "I was just seeing if you wanted some company."

To Annabeth's surprise, she nodded. She had spent enough time alone to reject any offer of company, and she was interested in Cameron. He smiled hesitantly and was careful when he sat at the very edge of the bed.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Better," Annabeth responded honestly. The strange feeling that had accompanied her memory had long since vanished, but Drew had still been worried enough to enforce a full day in bed.

"That's good," Cameron said earnestly, "we were all a little worried."

The air grew thick with an awkward tension, one that made Annabeth cringe. She had survived years trapped in hell, but she couldn't endure a few minutes of awkward silence?

"How's Esperanza?" Annabeth found herself asking, if only to escape the painful silence.

She didn't miss the wince flash over Cameron's face. "She's good. I think she fell asleep not too long ago. She was really worried about you, you know."

Annabeth nodded wordlessly as he spoke. She wanted to talk to the girl, it just felt so complicated now.

"Do you... uh... know what she is?" Cameron stammered, steadfastly looking anywhere but at Annabeth.