Chapter Text
Calypso
Obviously, I had fallen for Annabeth, and just as I had reached for her hand under the moonlit sky, she had said those three fateful words. “But, I’m straight!”
And the curse, for Annabeth at least, had been broken. Shortly afterwards, she had set about creating a makeshift raft.
“I’m really sorry I can’t make it work between us!” yells Annabeth from her place at the raft’s bow. “But my boyfriend Percy is waiting! We have to save the world!”
Sigh. Straight girls.
And so she and her homemade raft float out of sight, off the clear blue waters of Ogygia and to the purple waters of far away.
I don’t even shed a tear, because you may know that this story isn’t unusual for me. It’s because of the curse that the gods put on me about ten thousand years ago for siding with the losing side in some dumb war that I can barely remember. I’m trapped on this island, and am forced to share my home with any heroes who wash ashore. The heroes can only leave unless I develop a somewhat significant crush on them. But mythology, and gender roles, keep sending me straight guys.
But unfortunately for these wannabe heroes, they are destined to be stuck here together until somebody above knows and ends my punishment. Because what they don’t know is that I, Calypso, am a flaming homosexual.
Rachel
So it just so happens that I am stuck on a yacht right now with my awful father.
Normally, my father (and his ostentatious yacht) are things that I’d only touch with a ten-foot pole, but he is paying for my college. And with college costs rising to sixty thousand dollars a year, and my only job is at an organic vegan bakery (and being an Oracle on the side, which does not pay), I have made some concessions.
Right now, my father is flipping through a magazine on a slim tablet while our onboard masseuse massages and pedicures his feet. “Well,” he says without looking up from Billionaires Biweekly, “My li’l Rachel all grown up and going to school. And it’s not for business, or science, or anything respectable.”
“Yup,” I say sarcastically, lifting my vegan pina colada to his martini. “Cheers.”
“MassArt, huh? You sure you want to go to that hippy-dippy school?” my father says.
“Dad. You said you wouldn’t discuss this unless you did it respectfully.”
“All I’m saying is, you’re lucky I can afford to fund you after your ‘starving-artist’ ventures fail,” my father says.
“Dad.”
“Well, maybe you can meet a pretty girl from Harvard. And she’ll become an engineer and provide for you,” my mother says cheerily. “But seriously, Derek, would you stop picking on Rachel? She’s eighteen and going to college. You should be thankful for that.”
“Yeah, on my dime,” my father grouses, but thankfully shuts up.
“Derek. I was talking to Mickey and he says there’s a large storm headed our way. So we should be careful and go downstairs now,” Mom says.
I cast my eyes up to the sky, which is currently crystal-clear blue. But this morning, was it red? Yes. It was red. Great. Poseidon’s angry about something. I’m not sure what it is, but I cross my fingers anyway, hoping it’s not me. Am I, a friend of Percy, not allowed to cross the sea? You didn’t do anything bad to Percy lately, did you? Anything that he might mention to Poseidon even in passing?
Just as the words leave my mother’s mouth, the weather changes abruptly. The sky darkens, clouds roll in, thunder claps, lightning flashes, and the downward torrent begins.
“Why is the weather never normal when you’re on the boat, Rach?” my father grouses.
I gulp, hoping he hasn’t actually connected my presence on the boat to the weather. “Just a coincidence,” I say, but my voice is an octave higher than normal.
But instead, I’m thinking, Great. Now Zeus and Poseidon are angry. I follow my parents downstairs and pray to the (nicer) gods that we all make it out alive. I pull out my phone and send a quick email to Percy and Thalia. On yacht - Zeus + Poseidon angry. Look out for me, k?
Calypso
“Another straight girl?” A voice says from behind me.
I’m staring off into the distance, the crisp blue blending into cool, dark waters of beyond, where Annabeth is surely off to.
“Yup,” I say, turning around to face my buddy, Leo Valdez. Leo washed up on Ogygia about two years ago, and to be quite honest, if I could fall in love with any guy, it would be him. But every time we kiss to try to free him, the curse still won’t let him leave. He, and I, and apparently the curse, all know that my feelings for him are most certainly not romantic.
So he is stuck in the friend zone, stuck on the island, and stuck with the title of Calypso’s Best Friend.
“Jeez, Caly. When are you gonna learn?” he asks, but he’s just joking.
“I don’t know, Leo. When are you gonna get important enough for the Gods to pardon you?” I snipe back.
“Oh, that was harsh,” Leo says, but he’s laughing, thankfully. “Believe me, I tried to get Hephaestus to talk to Zeus about being stuck here. But apparently he’s not convincing enough and Zeus just didn’t feel like coming down and tinkering with the mechanics of the curse.”
“Nothing we haven’t heard already,” I respond.
“Lucky bastard,” Leo says, looking off into the waves.
“Sorry,” I say, “It’s the curse.”
“Yeah, cursed with lesbianism,” Leo banters back.
“But seriously. Wouldn’t you miss the island if you left it?”
“Yeah. I mean, in all honesty, I’m definitely safer on the island than I was ever in my life,” Leo says. “But I just kind of miss the glory of questing, you know?”
“I barely even remember life off Ogygia,” I say, “I don’t even remember the war, really.”
“Shouldn’t your punishment come to an end? You can’t suffer forever,” Leo says.
“Leo. I’m immortal. As of right now, I can suffer for thousands of years before anyone even remembers, notices, or cares about me. You know, every time I get sad about Ogygia, I always think they’ve probably got it worse down in Tartarus.”
“Probably,” Leo says, laughing.
We’re both staring off into the crystalline ocean for awhile in silence. That’s the best part about being so close with somebody: No talking necessary. Suddenly, Leo perks up. “Hey,” he says, “What’s that down by the beach?”