reflection ● jason grace

Dakota and the boys

Daria isn't the only one who's nervous about tonight, Dakota thought. The child of Bacchus adjusted their shirt, opting to go for a more neutral look. No necktie, no heels. Just plain old shirt, jacket, and dress pants.

They were in Jason's room since it was much better than sharing one bathroom with four of Dakota's roommates. Perks of being friends with your centurion, though sometimes Dakota wondered.

It wasn't like they hated Jason; quite the opposite, actually. Jason Grace was the first person they'd become friends with at camp. But Dakota wasn't like Michael or Daria – people who could adjust to life without missing a beat. They were waiting for an apology from Jason that wasn't going to come.

The blond in question was furiously combing his hair, so much so that Dakota thought he might end up bald. Maybe Jason could replace their missing eagle.

"Your shoes don't match your suit," Dakota commented, mostly out of spite. It was the best insult they could think of, which was kind of sad.

"That's fine," Jason said frustratedly. "I'm thinking about killing myself anyway."

"Aw no," Dakota replied sarcastically. "Don't do that."

Dakota was sitting on Jason's bed, buttoning their shirt with dexterity. Really, no article of clothing needed this many buttons. Jason's face was hidden from view, but Dakota knew he was frowning. "What is your problem, Koda?"

Dakota had always liked that nickname. It was softer, comforting. They took a sip of Kool-Aid. There was no way for this not to sound whiny. "You didn't talk to me for three months."

Okay, that was exaggeration. They had made small talk at cohort meetings or the rare breakfast when all seven of them were together. But Dakota missed their best friend, and they wanted an apology.

"Is that it?" The problem with their friendship is that Jason cared about Dakota a lot. He turned to them with a sympathetic expression on his face. "I'm sorry, Koda. I just need some time alone."

Dakota heard the unspoken 'after the siege'. They could all see the difference in the son of Jupiter, he was less sarcastic, less rash, had just as much of a hero complex as he had before, but now Dakota trusted that his plans would be successful.

Dakota found themself thinking about the days after he had realized they were nonbinary. Jason had gone around telling everyone so Dakota wouldn't have to. Not that they weren't proud of themself, and not like they didn't have a number of LGBT legionnaires, but Dakota had never realized, until then, how much they loved their friend.

"It's fine," Dakota mumbled. "But your shoes are still ugly."

"I don't exactly have a date to point that out," Jason shrugged. "So ugly shoes it is."

Dakota was about to respond to that with some witty comment when Micheal burst into the room in a wrinkled white shirt and a bunch of stuff in his arms. "I can't take it anymore," he panted dramatically. "I'm switching cohorts."

Jason stared at him. "Did you run here?"

Dakota got up to shut the door and scrutinize the son of Venus. He looked more annoyed than scared like his voice implied. "What happened?"

"Daria and Octavian happened," Michael groaned. "They're too happy. Daria keeps talking about Reyna. Grace, I need some of your comforting pessimism."

"No."

Michael flopped backwards on the bed where Dakota had been sitting. They had about 30 minutes until the dance started and he didn't look close to ready. "We're going to have to watch them all night," Michael said to Jason. "You know that right? It's going to be miserable?"