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NINETEEN, cab ride from hell
❀ ✿ ❀ ✿
ASTER WAITED IMPATIENTLY in an alley down Church Street. Thoughts bounced around in her brain at a mole a minute. Even though she'd been following him all day, Aster still couldn;t believe that Percy was friends with a cyclops. And he still hadn't noticed.
Footsteps approached, and Aster peeked out of the alley to see Percy and Tyson walking, their tie-dye shirts still steaming. Once they passed her, Aster grabbed both of their arms and yanked them away from the road, where a fire truck screamed past. She let go of Tyson immediately, but her arm lingered on Percy, the touch familiar and strangely comforting.
"Where'd you find him?" Aster demanded, pointing at Tyson.
Percy's eyes flashed through a bunch of different emotions before he landed on confusion. Despite everything that had happened earlier that day, Aster was still happy to see him. She missed him more than she cared to admit, and actually seeing him while he saw her was refreshing.
"He's my friend," Percy told her.
"Is he homeless?"
"What does that have to do with anything? He can hear you, you know. Why don't you ask him?"
Aster was surprised, looking Tyson up and down. "He can talk?"
"I talk," Tyson admitted. "You are pretty."
"Ah! Gross!" Aster pointedly took a step away from him, and the terror that she had felt at seven years old flashed back in her memory. His kind had been the one to almost cook her friends, his kind had been the one to kill Thalia. She had to keep reminding herself that this monster couldn't be her friend, and he couldn't be Percy's either.
"Tyson," Percy said, looking down at Tyson's hands in disbelief. "Your hands aren't even burned."
"Of course they're not," Aster muttered angrily. Cyclops were made for working in forges and with fire. No matter the temperature, they couldn't be burned. "I'm surprised the Laistrygonians had the guts to attack you with him around."
Tyson seemed to be fascinated by Aster's dark curls, and he reached out to touch it. She smacked his hand away before he could and inched closer to Percy.
"Aster," Percy said, "what are you talking about? Laistry-what?"
"Laistrygonians. The monsters in the gym. They're a race of giant cannibals who live way far north. Odysseus ran into them once, but I've never seen them as far south as New York before. They like the cold."
"Laistry—I can't even say that. What would you call them in English?"
She thought about it for a moment. "Canadians," she decided. "Now come on, we have to get out of here."
