Chapter Eight: The Help of a Pink Poodle.
— We tried the world, good God, it wasn't for us !
When the trio found their fourth companion, she was facing the sky and taking deep breaths.
She took a glance at them, nearly sneering at the plastic grocery bag in their possession — she knew what was in it and it broke her heart. Percy Jackson could see that much from the shattered and cold look in her sky blue eyes when she looked down at the bag. He didn't — couldn't — understand it, not for a second. From what he saw, Medusa was a monster. Why did Colette want to save someone that was trying to kill them? He wanted to understand, truly, but she wouldn't even give him the time of day after it had happened. Somehow, her words had affected Annabeth and Grover too, they both looked either solemn, repulsed, or dejected by the sight of the bag in Percy's hand. How could they have sympathy for a monster? He did the right thing! He swore he did, he just wanted to save his friends. Why was he getting the cold shoulder for doing what he was taught to do? Weren't demigods supposed to kill monsters? He wanted his quest mates to survive. What did he do that was so wrong?
Percy watched as Annabeth approached Colette tentatively. The taller brunette placed a gentle hand on the blonde's shoulder, spinning her around slowly and whispering pleads to come back into the store. The French girl seemed to protest, but when Grover joined in to beckon her in, she looked between the two carefully. She must've seen something because her eyes flashed and she slowly nodded in reluctance. However, when the three came over, she was the only one that didn't look at him. He frowned at her lack of attention. Somehow, his best friend sensed it, offering a sympathetic smile and pat to the shoulder. All he wanted to know was what he did wrong for her to avoid him like that.
The quartet plopped down at a booth in the Garden Gnome Emporium and sulked, Colette more than anyone else. "So, we have Athena to thank for this monster?" Percy questioned harshly, being the first to speak up and not noticing the way the blonde flinched at the degrading term.
Annabeth flashed him an irritated look and opened her mouth to speak, but her best friend beat her to it. "Stop acting like grade school children, you're not babies." Colette snapped at the pair, making them recoil at her tone. "We're not playing the blame game, don't be idiots. It's both of your parents' fault. Poseidon should've never led Medusa on and Athena shouldn't have let her pride overcome her. That's the end of discussion."
An awkward silence suffocated them, surprised by how thick Colette's accent had become. Percy kept sending Annabeth looks of disdain and she returned them in full force. He stared at the bag after turning his gaze away. One little snake was hanging out of a hole in the plastic. The words printed on the side said: We Appreciate Your Business! He felt anger bubble in his chest, not just at Annabeth or her mom, but with all the gods for the whole quest, for getting them blown off the road, getting Colette injured, and getting into two major fights the very first day out of camp. If it all kept up at that rate, they'd never make it to L.A. alive, much less before the summer solstice.
"Percy," Annabeth called after him when he left the table. "What are you—?"
The son of seas searched the back of the warehouse until he found Medusa's office. Her account book showed her six most recent sales, all shipments to the Underworld to decorate Hades and Persephone's garden. According to one fright bill, the Underworld's billing address was DOA Recording Studios, West Hollywood, California. He folded up the bill and stuffed it into his pocket. In the cash register, he found twenty dollars, a few golden drachmas, and some packing slips for Hermes Overnight Express, each with a little leather bag attached for coins. He rummaged around the rest of the office until he found the right sized box. He went back to the booth, packed up Medusa's head, and filled out a delivery slip:
