Hunters of The Stars

Seventeen: ☽ The Airport Is a Magical Place ☾

Helllloooo! Chapter seventeen, wow. I never thought that I would ever get this far in a story before and, quiet honestly, I never thought it would be a pjo fanfiction. I never was into writing or reading until a few years ago, I actually struggled terribly in it. When I had testing in school I got a terrible, terrible grade in vocab, writing, reading to the point where my parents had to make me work constantly on it. I hated doing it, which was most likely another reason why I failed. I felt like an idiot most of my life compared to my older sibling who excelled at basically everything with writing, reading, ect... And it didn't help that I couldn't pronounce words correctly until I was 12. I couldn't read until I was 9, either. This isn't a pity party, but I just want to say that reading and writing has open up a new world to me and I'm really happy I started doing this and started reading. I'm starting 10th grade in two weeks and I just want to say how happy I am at this moment in my life, so thank you if you read all of this.

~ elena

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Seventeen: ☽ The Airport Is a Magical Place ☾

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We rushed to the elevators of the garage, pressing the UP button furiously. I tapped my foot impatiently against the white tiled floor, earning several glances from a few old ladies waiting for the elevator next to us. I ignored them and decided to think about how long it would take to get through security and safely to our terminal.

So far, I had no idea.

I hadn't been on an airplane in several years, because A, I don't like them, and B, there was no reason to go on one. But I had to admit, looking at the open sky ceiling above us as we walked across the long hallway to security, seeing the planes fly over was kind of cool.

Kind of.

Loud talking and clapping of shoes against tile disrupted my thoughts. I tugged on the hem on my back pack strap, trying to find the section for American Airlines. Men and women in business suits walked past us carrying luggage, and then there were families walking with their luggage and checking in.

I had no idea what we looked like, but I knew it seemed pretty strange to see three teenagers dragging a twelve year old around. Okay, two teenagers. Apollo is weird and likes to pretend to be one.

"There," I said, pointing to the far left of me, where a short line awaited us with a large sign that said American Airlines. Something about it didn't seem right, but I went along with it.

"Finally, Clara has her first Eureka moment," Apollo said sarcastically and I felt like stabbing him in the knee. Instead, the rest of us trailed behind him. He was, technically, the adult. We swerved through people coming and going, the airport busy and over crowded for my taste.

The part of the airport we were at had large, sky line ceilings, shoving the bright blue summer sky in our faces. Multiple desks lined the back wall, people putting their luggage on the conveyor belt that led, to what I guessed, where the bags would be placed onto the airplanes. Employees wore fresh black suits with crisp white shirts underneath, their name tags pointing out. Apollo got into the no wait line for American Airlines, facing a stern looking woman with graying blonde hair.

Her eyes were the color of stone, and lines were sketched on her face. "How may I help you?" She said in monotone, no emotion in her words. She looked straight at Apollo.

"We're just checking in," he replied, turning around and looking at me for the tickets. I jumped in surprise and reached in my pocket, producing four wrinkly looking tickets and handing them to him.

Marissa nudged me with her elbows, her hands in her jacket pockets. She leaned over and whispered, "Something seems strange, but I don't know what." I gave her a puzzled look, looking at my surroundings for something weird, but nothing seemed weird.