Being beat by a girl is always embarrassing, no matter if she's a pro or not. But what makes it better, is when the same girl who kicked your butt beats the camp's big bad Ares bully in less time than she did you.
One thing's for certain, Paris is one killer swordsman. Gods, I'd hate to fight her in a real battle.
I was lost in these thoughts among others (which went along the lines of Whoa! Seriously? The Athena chick is hardcore!) while Paris defeated Clarisse with utmost ease. I decided then to go work on my archery while the station was deserted of its usual hoard of Apollo kids.
I strung the bow without a problem. I was getting better and better everyday. Just as I notched the arrow, I felt a cool touch on my arm.
"HOLY HADES!" I yelped and jumped, sending the arrow into the air. When it landed it was a good five yards from it's original target.
"Why so jumpy?" Annabeth asked.
"I dunno," I shrugged. To be honest, I'm always jumpy anymore. I've made one too many trips to my dad's realm, the Underworld, to not be uneasy. Sure, no one down there would hurt me, but it was...different. So different from up here, in the warm morning sunlight, with the expanse less blue sky, the green trees and grass. In the Underworld, it was dark, dank, and eerily quiet. That is, except for the occasional hell hound's booming bark.
I jogged to retrieve my arrow. Annabeth was waiting for me when I came back.
"Nico," Annabeth said my name hesitantly.
"What?" I asked feeling a little nervous.
"Did you, by some strange, parallel universe actually, er, let Paris beat you?" I could tell Annabeth was exceptionally uncomfortable asking me this, as she should be. She probably thought I was going to give her a hard time. She was right in thinking that way, of course.
"You don't think Paris beat me fair in square?" I asked, a look of wicked inquiry crossed over my face.
"Oh, gods, Nico, I'm begging you," Annabeth's features were panicked; those gray eyes were wide. Then her face was erased of worry and penciled over with a look of pure maliciousness only an evil genius could wear.
I felt my eyes grow wide and my heart begin to pound slightly faster than before. "Uh, Annabeth?" My voice had risen several octaves.
"Yes?" She spoke in a calm, sweet manner. Rather like she was talking to a scared dog. To me her voice said be afraid, be very afraid. I wasn't a dog, but I might as well have been. Annabeth was kind of scaring me, as she sometimes did. She smirked dubiously.
"Are you going to kill me?" I asked in a small voice. I knew it was stupid to be afraid of my friend, but she had a glint in her eye at the time that was frightening...Maybe it was also the fact that she could cream me in a sword fight as well.
"Only if you dare breath a word of this conversation to Paris," Annabeth used the word conversation much too lightly. What a loose term for this...what was it? A threat fest?
I contemplated her expression for a moment, then, "I swear on the River Styx I won't tell." Little did she know I had my fingers crossed behind my back.
Annabeth's face cleared of all menace; she was glowing. It was easy to see why Percy had fallen for her. She was quite pretty...not that I could ever think of her in that way.
To confess, I honestly felt a little...jealous of Percy. I mean, he had Annabeth, his other half. A perfect friend. And who did I have? Yeah, there was Mrs. O'Leary, but she was an animal. Well, sort of an animal. I didn't know what a hell hound would be classified as. I guessed when I saw them together, I put on the look of disgust to mask my inner loneliness. Yep, I was lonely.
