DAISY || P. Jackson x Fem O/C

2.2 | 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐚𝐱𝐢 𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐎𝐟 𝐃𝐨𝐨𝐦

~🌊~{[CHAPTER TWO]}~🌊~

[The Taxi Ride Of Doom]

Annabeth and Daisy were waiting for them in an alley down Church Street. The younger girl pulled Tyson and him off the sidewalk just as a fire truck screamed past, heading for Meriwether Prep.

"Where'd you find him?" she demanded, pointing at Tyson. Annabeth too, was glaring at him like he'd just eaten her hamster. Now, under different circumstances, Percy would've been really happy to see her. They'd made their peace last summer, after he'd called her useless and then she'd risked her life to save them from getting pulled into Tartarus. He'd missed Daisy probably more than he wanted to admit - Annabeth too.

But he'd just been attacked by cannibal giants, Tyson had saved his life three or four times, and all Annabeth and Daisy could do was glare at him like he was the problem.

"He's my friend," He told them.

"Is he homeless?"

"What does that have to do with anything? He can hear you, you know. Why don't you ask him?" They looked surprised.

"He can talk?"

"I talk," Tyson admitted. "You are pretty."

"Ah! Gross!" Annabeth pulled Daisy away from him, almost as if she was afraid Tyson calling her little sister pretty was going to give her a disease.

Percy couldn't believe they were being so rude. He examined Tyson's hands, which he was sure must've been badly scorched by the flaming dodgeballs, but they looked fine grimy and scarred, with dirty fingernails the size of potato chips – but they always looked like that.

"Tyson," he said in disbelief. "Your hands aren't even burned."

"Of course not," Annabeth muttered. "I'm surprised the Laistrygonians had the guts to attack you with him around."

Tyson seemed fascinated by Annabeth's blonde hair. He tried to touch it, but she smacked his hand away, so he resorted to trying to pick the gray-blonde streak out of Daisy's hair, which she didn't look very happy about.

"Annabeth," Percy said, "what are you talking about? Laistrywhat?"

"Laistrygonians. The monsters in the gym. They're a race of giant cannibals who live in the far north. Odysseus ran into them once, but I've never seen them as far south as New York before."

"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."

"The police'll be after me."

"That's the least of our problems," she said. "Have you been having the dreams?"

"The dreams ... about Grover?" Her face turned pale.

"Grover? No, what about Grover?" Percy told her his dream.

"Why? What were you dreaming about?" Her eyes looked stormy, like her mind was racing a million miles an hour.

"Camp," she said at last. "Big trouble at camp."

They both looked to Daisy, who was now wagging her finger up at Tyson, telling him to "Get the fuck off my hair," she looked at them staring at her expectantly. "What? Oh, yeah I've been having dreams too."