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Shel’s made a sign, a huge tacky poster that welcomes Leo back from war, and Piper makes sure to grab a picture with it before they reach the arrival’s gate. She doesn’t have an official Piper McClean social media account; probably for situations like these, where PR would have to rush to explain.
Leo waves when he sees them, using his bony elbows to push past other passengers, and dives to his knees in front of the poster.
“Shel!” He cries. “You remembered! You do the things no one else will do for me!”
Shel’s laugh sounds like she smokes forty a day, and Piper still gets distracted when she hears it.
Leo drags them to the airport’s McDonald’s before they leave, poster around his shoulders like a cape, grabbing both of their hands in each of his own and swinging them cheerily.
He queues for over ten minutes for just Fanta. Piper stares.
“Did you know,” he starts, then pauses to drink. “If you order Fanta in Singapore, it’s purple. Their base flavour is grape.”
“That sounds awful,” Piper says. “Let’s go home.”
If anyone recognised them at the airport, they don’t bother tailing the car, which is nice. Leo chatters the whole way back to the car, showing off his new hobby – shoe customs, this time – and explaining to blank faces how his robotics course is going.
Piper has missed having him around. He’s usually a step livelier than everyone around her, and always has the best ideas when she’s just lying around, bored. He also gets along scarily well with Shel, who chose to sit in the back seat with him. Piper has to twist herself to talk to them, but ditches after a minute to just watch the stretch back to the house, smiling to herself. Apollo doesn’t talk, happy to play chauffer, but pulls faces in accordance to the conversation behind him.
Leo bursts out of car before it stops moving, now with sunglasses pushed back into his curls. He sheds out of his sweater, dozens of shades happier in the hot weather, and he’s wearing one of Piper’s old t-shirts, albeit with the sleeves chopped off. He cranes his neck and stretches his arms over his head, and it hitches up to reveal his toolbelt, strangely empty because of the flight.
Piper pulls her keys from her back pocket. “You excited to be back?”
“You have no idea,” Leo grins. “Who would have thought, Leo Valdez in a real celebrity’s house.”
“You’ve been here before,” she points out, sliding the doors open. “Take off your shoes.”
Leo snorts. “Obviously, I’m not a monster. And – I meant you. You’re the celebrity this time.”
“I was always a celebrity,” Piper says, playing dumb, and is rewarded with Leo groaning long and loud.
Shel appears behind her with his luggage, pressing a kiss against her neck. “I think he’s talking about a certain singer.” She pulls away, staring through her eyelashes. “Rumour has it she’s super hot.”
Piper runs her tongue over her teeth slowly. “Leo, it was great having you, but I think it’s time for you to go.”
Before he can retort, Apollo breezes over and asks what the holdup is. They collectively decide to keep their mouths shut and burst into the house. Leo drums his fingers on the walls as he walks, flicking his head around to drink in as much of it as possible. It’s been just shy of four months – Piper hasn’t been letting herself count – but he acts as though it’s been years.
They have a room for him in the lower floors; one of the nice views with windows showcasing the drop that the house clings to the edge of. He darts inside and presses his palms against the thick glass, revelling in the view, and then whips open his closet.
“I love summer,” he murmurs, pulling out bits and pieces. “I was made for the sun, you know?”
Piper wanders over, ruffling his curls. “You’re a dork. Welcome back, man.”
-----
They stay on the roof for the first night, because the weather is good and because it’s tradition. Piper drags out huge blankets and bowls of snacks, and Shel scrubs her makeup off and brushes her teeth in preparation.
The night is still, like a bubble protecting them from protruding weather, and the air is dusty dry but easy to breath. There’re no huge star constellations visible, but Shel tries her best. Leo makes up his own corresponding stories, which get increasingly ridiculous until Piper’s sides are sore from laughing.
It’s more distinguished from the days she and Leo would scramble over the tiles with a threadbare blanket and a joint. A safety barrier has been added since, what with Tristan always worrying that they’d slip off the edge, and Leo thumbs it carefully. Piper recognises the look in his eyes, sharp and untired, and resigns herself into a long night.
Shel falls asleep when she’s not paying attention. Piper starts when she notices, then brushes her hair out of her face and kisses her forehead gently.
Leo elbows her in the ribs. “You’re gone on her, aren’t you?”
Piper tilts her head up to the sky. “Don’t tell anyone, okay? You’ll ruin my street cred.”
“Your street cred,” he repeats, dubious, then bites his tongue, shaking his head fondly. He doesn’t chase cheap comebacks the way he used to. His hair is longer, thicker; his hands covered in cuts and screwdriver scars that Piper never saw him get.
She shifts, leaning back until his shoulder supports her back and she can stare at the sky and relearn his burnt matches smell.
He props his chin on her head. “I’m going to be here all summer. Wild.”
“Wild,” Piper agrees, stifling a yawn. “You should come with me to the park tomorrow. Or – we should get tattoos. Or ice cream. Maybe go down to the studio.”
Leo laughs into her hair. “All summer, Pipes.”
He lets out a breath. “This rooftop is bigger than it used to be, huh?”
Their legs are cooped up in ways that will give them all cramps in the morning. It’s hard to tell where one person ends and another begins. But – they’re not spilling out of themselves the way they used to. Her emotions stay firmly inside of her frame, echoing inwards and filling up her ribcage when she breathes.
Piper nods. “I get what you mean.”
-----
They end up going to the beach the next morning; Leo texting Percy and Annabeth to meet them there – he has a weird friendship with Annabeth born of them both being geniuses, or something. He stumbles into the kitchen, pushing his hair back with a bandana.
Shel appears seconds later, not looking up from her pocket mirror as she focuses on her eyeliner. Unlike Leo, she’s still in her sleepshirt. Piper checks the note taped to the fridge and roots around the kitchen to find the breakfast that it claims.
“Do you have maids now?” Leo asks, jumping onto a barstool at the island. Piper slides him a smoothie.
“No, but Apollo gets up at the crack of dawn, for some godforsaken reason.”
“Good morning all,” Shel pipes up, snapping her mirror closed and kissing Piper on the cheek. “Ready to go?”
Piper levels her with a look. “Shel, baby. You’re not dressed.”
Shel looks down at herself, eyes wide. “Huh. Might have to get on that, yeah.”
They arrive at the beach when the sun’s at its heaviest. It’s the smaller counterpart of the tourist ridden beach, with rocks embedded in the sand and low cliffs veering off to the left and form a slight overhang. Percy and Annabeth are already in the water when they arrive, but Annabeth’s left her surfboard sticking straight up out of the sand so they can find the beach chairs.
Leo sheds out of his clothes immediately, throwing extra sun cream on the back of his neck and squinting out to the coast. Shel claps her hands over her mouth when she sees his top surgery scars, barely paler than the rest of him, and he puffs out his chest accordingly.
Piper gathers her hair into a high ponytail and swaps her shoes for leather flip-flops. “Tell Percy and Annabeth I say hi, will you? I’m headed to the strip.”
For someone who lives right on the beach, she’s not mad about it, preferring the canyons out by the campsite. The strip is mostly for tourists; a solid sandstone pavement trailing the coast that’s littered with people selling handmade jewellery and periwinkles and fridge magnets in the shape of palm trees. There’re no palm trees out in these parts.
She can’t hear Shel’s footsteps as they race across the sand, but Piper knows instinctively when to turn. Shel jumps and Piper catches, laughing.
“You could have said you wanted to come with me,” Piper points out, blowing strands of Shel’s hair out of her face.
Shel wiggles, pressing a kiss against her neck and then falling out of Piper’s grasp. “Yeah, but.”
Back on the beach, Leo whistles sharply. Piper connects her fingers into a heart shape and sticks it up into the air for him.
They walk to the strip together, swinging their hands between them and half-heartedly complaining about the thickness of the heat. Piper tugs Shel from shadow to shadow, avoiding the sun, and stops to buy a slushie.
She presses against her cheek for a second, then offers it to Shel.
Her girlfriend shakes her head. “Nah, it’ll die my tongue blue.”
Piper shrugs. “Your loss.”
It dies Piper’s tongue blue before they even reach the strip, and she darts in and makes a show of licking up the side of Shel’s face, trying to leave a streak. Shel splutters, pushing her away, then pulls her back in to wipe her cheek on Piper’s shirt.
Piper doesn’t hate tourist traps, really; she and her dad used to visit them loads when she was younger, and it’s always nice when the mobs have nothing to do with you. It smells salty-sweet, and they have to weave around to avoid groups of surfers and stalls selling bikini’s that reach out onto the street. Shel tucks herself under Piper’s arm, raising her voice to be heard over all the chatter. Her preferred palette is mostly black, which isn’t ideal for the heat, so she’s just thrown a shawl over a swimsuit in an effort to stay cool.
She looks beautiful. Piper squeezes her briefly, then spots a lady weaving anklets.
They stop at an outdoor coffee joint, anklets secured and new sunglasses pushed back into Shel’s hair, which misses the point of them completely. Piper takes a sip of espresso, happy to kick back and people-watch; there’s a bunch of boys playing volleyball on the beach, not at all aware of the effect they’re having on teens walking past, just enjoying the excuse to push each other into the sand. An old woman is sorting through seashells, trying to pick out the ones that aren’t cracked. Two kids shoot by on cheap scooters, followed by a smooth walking woman in a wide brimmed sunhat.
“Hey,” comes a nervous voice to their left. “Sorry, are you Shel?”
Shel swings her feet of the counter and smiles with her teeth. “Yeah, nice to meet you.”
The girl cups her hand in front of her mouth for a moment. She can’t be more than seventeen, and her pink hair is held back in a long ponytail. “Sorry, I’m not looking for a picture or anything, I just wanted to let you know I love your music. Wow. Yeah. I should just-”
She points over her shoulder, flushing, and starts to turn.
Piper takes off her sunglasses. “You can get a picture, if you want. We look pretty good on camera.”
The girl’s eyes widen. “Piper? Wait, are you guys actually friends? That’s pretty cool.”
Shel laughs, her real one, and stands out of the chair. “We are pretty cool. C’mere, Pipes, since you wanted a picture so bad.”
They clear up pretty soon after that, because it’s always a bit mortifying to be noticed, and the back of Piper’s neck is starting to burn. She lets her hair down as they walk back, pulling it out of her ponytail so it tumbles down her back. Shel makes fun of her, but still helps her put sun cream on once they’re back at the beach.
It doesn’t take them long to find the others, because Percy lets out a whoop as he jumps of the rocks. Piper grins and takes off at a run, with Shel hot at her heels.
Annabeth hugs her tight when they reach the top, panting and stinging from the marram grass. She’s effortless as always, even tan and coarse hands and hair in a gravity defying bun. She narrows her eyes as she grins.
“I bet I can jump out further than you,” she says, and jumps before Piper can accept.
Piper leaps straight after her, and for the fleeting second she’s going up the air is tight in her lungs and she’s weightless, and then she’s falling.
She hits the water with a slap and plunges down. Piper lets it happen, waiting until she has control over her body again to try swimming to the surface.
“No way!” she cries once she’s up, wiping saltwater out of her eyes. “You swam further out!”
Annabeth sticks out her tongue, then swims over to her boyfriend. Piper shakes her head, tipping back into a dead man’s float and closing her eyes against the shock of a sun.
Someone yanks her legs, and she turns upright, spluttering, and Shel’s there.
She reaches out lazily and tangles her fingers through Piper’s hair. “I’ve wanted to do this since you took it down.”
She pulls, very lightly, and then crashes their lips together, laughing into her mouth. She’s salty from the ocean, and her skin is covered in goosebumps where they press together. Piper settles her hands where her hips dip in, kicking languidly below the water to keep them afloat.
Shel knocks their teeth together, then turns her head to the side to spit out water.
Piper kisses along her jaw. “Hot.”
“You’re gross,” Shel responds, but starts fiddling with the strings holding Piper’s bikini top together.
They’re significantly warmer by the time they make it back to the shore. Everyone else has jumped dozens of times, but politely don’t ask why they never made it back to the top of the cliff. Percy is sprawled out on the sand, managing to get none of it stuck to him, while Annabeth sorts through all the various beach gear, making sure the wet gear doesn’t touch the dry. Piper couldn’t think of anything worse, but she seems to be enjoying it.
Leo glances up at them. “Finally. Shel, where’s good for food? Piper, shut your mouth; you would eat literally anything that’s not meat.”
Shel laughs, shaking out her hair and fixing her necklace. She reaches over and adjusts Piper’s septum, who admittedly forgets about it more often than not. “I know a few places. Any icks?”
-----
They go to the skatepark after they’ve eaten, sun low and air thick. Jackets and beanies are strewn around, and there’s no crowd hovering at the edge of the bowl to wait their turn. Shel drops her cardigan off her shoulders, keeping it bunched at the elbows, and Leo finds a spot to sit and pull out a sketchbook.
The good thing about the park being emptier than usual is that Piper and Shel are friendly with most of the people left over. They get their hands on energy drinks, condensation clinging to the bright cans, and Leo almost immediately gets to doodle on the underside of a board with a thick black marker. It’s the same design that he painted onto his shoes; Piper’s guessing he’s playing it safe.
Percy taps a stray board, and he’s charming enough that nobody calls out for it. He spots Annabeth moving to sit beside Leo and darts over to see if he can convince her to learn to drop in. Generally, Annabeth only likes doing things she’s good at, so Piper does a double take when she agrees.
“That’s ridiculous,” Shel murmurs, watching them together. “How are they real people. Why do they look like that.”
“All Stars,” Piper agrees, sighing. “Guess that makes us the 'indie movie for pretentious teens' type.”
“I was a pretentious teen,” Shel says very seriously. “Very underground. Have you ever heard of skateboarding? I doubt it, you don’t look the type.”
Piper tips her head back and laughs. “You know what? I can’t seem to recall.” She drops a heavy wink. “I’m a visual learner.”
Shel drops her can and flattens it with her heel. About four boards are offered to her by the group she runs over to – nobody else has such a chokehold over the park. She waves back at Piper before strolling over to a rail, doing some fancy rail skids before just pushing herself lazily around the park. Piper watches her, then finds a seat beside Leo.
“How’s it?” she asks, knocking her drink off his head.
Leo doesn’t look up. “This marker flows really nice.”
She waits until he moves his hand away. “Wanna do mine when we’re back home?”
“Home,” he echoes. “Sounds good, Pipes.”
-----
They enter Piper’s second room through the window, more for the fun of it than fearing Apollo would chastise them for staying out so late. Her second room is full of bright colours and throw rugs, with more places to lie out than visible floor space.
Leo looks around at her second room. “It looks like the seventies threw up.”
Percy nods gravely. “It’s the wallpaper.”
“It’s the everything,” Annabeth corrects.
Shel roots around until she surfaces with a small tin. “I love the seventies.”
None of them are lightweights, so Piper blames second-hand smoke. Leo drops his head into her lap, talking with his hands but also in Spanish. Only Percy knows Spanish, but Annabeth looks like she’s just as engrossed in the conversation.
Shel’s no different, tracing her teeth with the very tip of her tongue and holding a joint between her two fingers, tilted up.
“Piper,” she stage whispers, then takes a long inhale and grips Piper’s chin and pulls it towards her. Shel waits for her to nod, then presses her lips against Piper’s and opens her mouth.
Piper watches her through lidded eyes. “I think I’m in love with you?”
Shel kisses her lightly. “Are you asking me or telling me?”
“I don’t know,” Piper admits. “Did you know that already? This could be embarrassing.”
“Nah,” Shel says. “Nah.”
They throw on a movie, then, one of the Twilight ones, and take turns getting up to do a live re-enactment. Leo throws himself down after his turn, laughing loudly, and looks up at her with wide, wide eyes.
He doesn’t tell her how much he missed her, but Piper can feel him think it, hard. Gently, she leans down and knocks their foreheads together, and his face splits open in a smile.