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A feeling of panic seized me. “Annabeth,” I said under my breath. “Don’t.”
She frowned at me. “What?”
“Look, I need to tell you something,” I continued. The words came stumbling out of me. “I couldn’t stand it if… I don’t want you to-”
“Percy?” she said. “You look like you’re going to be sick.”
And that’s how I felt. I wanted to say more, but my tongue betrayed me. It wouldn’t move because of the fear in my stomach. And then Artemis turned.
“Thalia,” Artemis said. “Daughter of Zeus. Will you join the Hunt?”
“I will,” Thalia said firmly.
“And Annabeth, daughter of Athena. Will you?”
“I will.”
The world was fuzzy. His eyes’ glazed over, as a nightmare he’d been secretly worrying about the whole trip presented itself.
The party began as everyone was allowed to live, yet again, and the Ophiotaurus was allowed sanctuary.
But Percy’s heart wasn’t in it. Nausea hit him like a truck.
“Hello Percy. You’ve done well,” he heard his father say. Normally, this praise would make him uneasy, as the god had put himself on the line for his son so much, but Percy couldn’t muster a thank you.
“You guys have bathrooms, right?” he asked, hand on his stomach.
Poseidon’s eyes widened. “Um, yes. Down that way to the left.”
He took off. The doors were marked gods and goddesses , and he wasn’t sure if going into gods would get him disintegrated, but puking in the middle of an Olympian party seemed like a worse fate.
And he puked. Right into the godly spotless toilet. His breathing was ragged and his chest couldn’t contain itself.
Suddenly, a warm hand held his hair back. Of all people, Aphrodite was holding his hair back from his face as he barfed.
Wonderful.
“Oh sweetie, I didn’t foresee this. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way.”
He looked up from the now not spotless toilet and what he saw made his stomach turn even more.
Aphrodite’s features were distinct for him. They didn’t change like when he’d previously saw her.
Her skin was tanned, like she’d spent a summer on a beach. Her princess curls were natural from what he could tell, honey blonde with a little frizz. And her eyes were a stormy gray.
He turned back to the toilet.
“Love is pain, Percy. That’s how you know it’s not a silly crush.”
This didn’t help. “Please… please go,” he whispered as he wiped sweat from his forehead.
She grimaced at him, and left the mens’ room- no, gods’- room .
He could hear his father outside, speaking with Aphrodite. “I wish he would enjoy the party,” Poseidon said. “He has a few years to stress for the prophecy.”
Aphrodite didn’t seem too upset from her tone. “Oh silly , I don’t think it’s the prophecy. But I wouldn’t go in there, he needs time alone, or with his mother.”
He’d managed to slip out to the elevator, pressing down. It was an awkward and long ride down, just him and some minor god he didn’t even try to guess the name of. His vision was cloudy with fresh tears, and his orange shirt stained with bile. In his years of quests that were pretty physically draining, Percy wasn’t sure he’d ever looked like such utter shit .
Manhattan was quiet the friday before Christmas. He decided to use a pay phone, no matter how many times he’d been told to never do so. His mom wasn’t answering, which was weird because she always seemed to be ready to answer a call about him.
He caught a cab home.
He entered his apartment, seeing his mom talking at the table with Mr. Blowfish.
“Percy!” she exclaimed upon seeing him. “Oh gods- what happened to you? Paul, excuse me-”
They laid on his bed together, her stroking his hair, even if it was sweaty and gross.
Percy choked on his words as he explained. After thirty minutes of crying, he ironically couldn’t summon any more tears. Just numbness.
The prophecy scared him, sure. But he knew he would never have to be the brains of it. Annabeth was supposed to be by his side start to end.
But she’d chosen a different path.
And his path was his, alone.