¹On This Spring Day, percy jackson & the olympians

021.

ON THIS SPRING DAY
━━━━━ chapter twenty-one

━━━━━ DEATH LINGERED LIKE a friend who couldn't get the hint to go away. Or it was like that for AJ.

After the battle—and feeling suffocated by everything that had happened—the rest of the summer seemed strange because it was so normal. The daily activities continued: archery, rock climbing, and pegasus riding. They played Capture the Flag ( though everyone avoided Zeus's Fist—but especially Violet, Annabeth, and Percy ). The campers sang at the campfire, raced chariots, and played practical jokes on the other cabins. AJ spent a lot of time with Violet and Chris and the rest of Cabin Eleven, he and Violet would spend time taking care of Mrs. O'Leary like Daedalus had asked of the daughter of Eros, but the hellhound would still howl at night when she got lonely for her old master. And AJ and Annabeth pretty much avoided each other like the plague. It hurt—to avoid her, just like it always hurt—but it hurt worse being around her ... like it normally did.

He never thought it would be like this again, but he wanted to talk with Annabeth. He wanted to be around her, but it just ... hurt. Bad memories ( older and newer ), the fear of messing things up even worse with the daughter of Athena, and bringing up Luke.

AJ tried avoiding the topic of Luke Castellan, but trying to talk about the upcoming war with her, was impossible. And bringing up Luke around Annabeth would result in A). a pencil thrown at you, B). a notebook, or C). a whole shelf of a bookcase. ( She tried it once, and both Malcolm and AJ had to duck and run from Cabin Six. )

So, safe to say, AJ avoided bringing up Luke Castellan—and anything related to him—up around Annabeth.

Until she found him in the Arts & Crafts Center. AJ glanced her way, eyebrows raised, but quickly went back to his painting. Figuring if she didn't speak to him, he wouldn't start a conversation. He didn't want any art supplies thrown his way.

But Annabeth placed a sleek silver laptop on the table next to him. She slid a stool over and sat on it.

"Malcolm said I had to get out of the Cabin," she said, noticing the way AJ was watching her from the corner of his eye.

"Oh." AJ cleared his throat and busied himself. "'Suppose he has a point. You've been spending every hour of the day on that thing."

"'Cause there's so much on here," said Annabeth as the laptop whirried to life. "Daedalus is—er, was a genius, AJ."

"I know," he agreed dryly.

"I mean—video shields, swords that fold into paper origami, buildings you can transport with briefcases—"

"Annabeth, I get it," insisted AJ. "Daedalus was crazy creative. I saw the stuff he had in his workshop." He shaded a part of the painting—an old memory from what seemed like a lifetime ago; buildings built from white marble, and roofed with red tiles. Marble statues and stores lined the streets. He frowned at it for a moment, struggling to recall it all, but Annabeth spoke up.

"That's pretty," she complimented, nodding to the painting. "What's it of?"

AJ chewed on the inner part of his cheek, dipping the paintbrush in a cup of water. "An old memory I had. Before Virginia."

"When you and your family used to live in California?"

AJ's brows furrowed. "Yeah, but ... I don't really remember what it is—like where. We used to live in San Fran, I'm pretty sure, but—"