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Reyna propped her legs on her desk, plopping a few jelly beans in her mouth as she listened to Frank read off the list of minor grievances that some of the children in the different cohorts had about the way the legion was run.
“Blaise wishes to include more time in the forges on the schedule for either his cohort or children of Vulcan in general—” Frank read, “And Lavinia wishes to have more dance classes offered to legionnaires.”
Reyna spun a red jellybean between her fingers. “We can talk with the head blacksmiths and dance teachers in New Rome to see if that’s possible.”
“Good idea,” Frank said, “And Claudia requests—”
The door to the praetor’s lounge interrupted Frank with a loud bang, and Reyna dropped her legs to the ground and sat up, looking at the intruder. Noticing who it was, Reyna relaxed and propped her legs back up. “Hello, Hazel.”
“I’m so sorry,” Hazel said, moving to gently shut the door behind her. “I didn’t realize I opened it that forcefully.”
“Don’t worry, Haze,” Frank smiled, putting the parchment of grievances on his lap. “I do it all the time. Reyna had Claudia reinforce it so that it won’t break again.”
“Still,” Hazel ran a hand through her wild curls, some catching on her fingers, “I won’t do it again.” She looked between the two of them, and the dropped parchment between them. “Gods, did I interrupt something important?”
Reyna dismissed her concerns with a wave. “We were just taking a break.”
“We were?” Frank whispered. Reyna gave him a pointed look, and he straightened up. “Exactly,” he said to Hazel, “We were just taking a break.”
“Good, because I have to tell you about this morning.”
“You were with Nico, right?” Reyna clarified. She knew Nico was visiting Camp Jupiter for a little bit—she and him had gone to get hot chocolate and biscottis together the day before, and he had mentioned that he was spending Hazel’s day off with her.
Hazel smiled slightly. “Yeah, it was great! We got to catch up with each other, and talked about tons of stuff.” Hazel cracked her fingers, “You know what he told me?”
“What?” Frank asked.
“He said you already knew Reyna, and that I could tell Frank, so I can tell you,” Hazel rambled off.
Reyna sat up straight, crossing her arms. Beside her, Aurum and Argentum stayed lying down, a signal Hazel was being truthful. She racked her brain for what Nico might have told Hazel, and the answer was glaringly obvious once she realized.
“He said he likes boys—” Hazel said, “Like romantically.”
Reyna nodded slightly, and Frank responded with a small, “That’s nice.”
“I was worried at first,” Hazel admitted, moving to sit down on the extra chair she and Frank kept around. “When Nico and I are from—boys who like boys weren’t just frowned upon, they were hurt. Badly. I was sheltered from much of it as a girl, but one time, right after I moved to Seward, I saw two men beaten bloody for being with each other, and I could never let that happen to Nico.”
Reyna flinched.
Frank stiffened up in his seat. “That’s awful, Hazel.”
Hazel shook her head, as if to remove the memories. “It was. But Nico reassured me that today is much better—there are still backwards people, but there are more supporters than ever! Did you know there’s an entire month dedicated to people like Nico in June? And they have giant parades? I told Nico we have to go together next June.”
“My gran, mom, and I went to a pride parade in Vancouver one year,” Frank said. “Mom’s childhood best friend is a lesbian, and we went to support her.”
Hazel lit up. “Really? That’s so cool! A lesbian is when a girl likes a girl, right? Like Lavinia?”
Reyna couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. “Yeah.”
“Nico was surprised to know that there was a girl who likes girls here at camp,” Hazel said, “I thought of introducing them, but I don’t know if they’d get along well. Lavinia can be… a lot… And Nico’s Nico.”
“They’d make an interesting duo.” Reyna chuckled at the thought.
“Lavinia would try to teach him a tap routine,” Frank said.
“Or hound him about tap in the 30s and 40s,” Hazel commented. “You wouldn’t imagine how many conversations we’ve had about Shirley Temple.”
“A lot,” Reyna guessed.
“More than a lot,” Hazel agreed. “Oh, Nico also told me all about the boy he likes, though I promised him I wouldn’t say who it was.”
Reyna had an idea about who it was—Nico brought up a certain son of Apollo multiple times during their conversation at the cafe—but Nico deserved that privacy. “Did you tell him all about Frank?”
Both Hazel and Frank blushed, though Frank’s was far more noticeable.
“He knows Frank,” Hazel said softly.
Reyna shrugged, “You could’ve still gossiped.”
Hazel abashedly look away towards the bookshelf that had a few Roman history textbooks, plus a jar filled with pens, plus—
“That’s a gay flag!” Hazel screeched, her past embarrassment all but evaporated. “The rainbow! Nico showed me a pin that someone at camp gave him with the same pattern and it’s used to show support for homosexuals!”
“You didn’t know that before?” Frank asked.
Hazel gave a small grin. “I figured it was like, the Puerto Rican flag or something.”
Reyna laughed at the idea. “No, this one I have in my jelly bean jar is the Puerto Rican flag.” She held out the red, white and blue flag to show off the star.
“Oh,” Hazel chuckled slightly. “Sorry.”
“It’s alright,” Reyna said. “You didn’t know.” Reyna let go of the flag, and her fingers grazed the one next to it, and she had a revelation. “Say, Hazel, do you know these flags?”
She picked up the black, grey, white, and purple flag and green, white, grey, and black flag that Frank had recently gone down town to get when she came out to him a week before, but she hadn’t come out to Hazel, had she?
Hazel’s shoulders drooping was all the answer she needed.
“This is the aromantic flag,” Reyna said, showing the green one. “And this is the asexual flag.”
Hazel nodded supportively, but Reyna could see the way the terms soared over her.
“Aromantic means that you don’t like people romantically.” Reyna slipped that flag back next to the Puerto Rican flag, “And asexual means you don’t like people sexually.”
Hazel’s face heated up in the way that 1940s purity ideals had influenced her, but, to her credit, she only fanned her face one before composing herself. “I didn’t know that was a thing.”
“It’s under the queer umbrella,” Reyna smiled, placing the ace flag back. “People didn’t know about it very much when you were first alive, but it’s always been here. I should know.”
“Are you—” Hazel stopped momentarily, pointing at the flags, “I’m sorry, what were the words again?”
“Aromantic and asexual?”
“Yeah, that,” Hazel whispered.
Reyna nodded.
“So, you don’t want a boyfriend or girlfriend,” Hazel reiterated.
“I don’t look at someone and want them to be my boyfriend or girlfriend,” Reyna reiterated. “I don’t get the same feelings you and Frank and Nico do.”
Hazel fanned herself one more time, sneaking a glance at her boyfriend. “And that’s safe?”
Reyna shrugged. “Safer than when you were first alive.”
“I’ll protect you,” Hazel said, her hands tightening to fists. “And Nico too. I’ll be the best ally anyone could be.” She frowned. “That’s the word, right?”
Frank chuckled. “That’s right,” he said, contributing once again to the conversation. Reyna admired him for that—he knew that it was Reyna’s story to tell and stayed quiet.
“Alright, then I’ll be the greatest ally ever!”
Reyna’s heart swelled. “That you will, Hazel.”