Chapter Text
I’m terrified of flying. Like, pack-a-spare-pair-of-underwear scared. But don’t judge me yet. It’s for good reason. Zeus isn’t a big fan of the kids of Poseidon invading his realm. By flying in a plane, I’m basically painting a big target on my back that says ‘strike lightning bolt here.’ Yeah, not a fan of flying.
The seatbelt sign dings on and a crackly voice says over the intercom, ‘Flight crew prepare for landing.’
I slacken my grip (slightly) from the pillow I’ve been gripping for the entire flight (and it’s been a long one). We’re almost there.
Why would a son of Poseidon be in an aeroplane you might ask? Well, Mum has family in the Gold Coast, Australia, some long lost cousin who she hasn’t seen in years. She’s been itching to visit for ages but, considering the events of the last few years, namely, my many near death experiences, she wasn’t too keen to leave me behind. I told her I’d just swim to Australia, but she said that would seem pretty suss to her long lost cousin and her family. So here I am, on an aeroplane, who knows how many thousands of feet up in the air (I’m sure Annabeth would know), praying that Zeus won’t crash us into the ground on descent. I wouldn’t put it past him, so I pull my pillow close again.
***
It takes a lot of restraint not to get down on all fours and kiss the floor when we’re finally off the plane. I heave a giant sigh of relief instead.
‘See, I told you nothing bad would happen,’ Mum says as we make our way towards the baggage claim.
‘I don’t know, Sal,’ my stepfather Paul says from behind us. ‘I still think we should have wrapped him in bubble wrap for the whole flight.’
‘I don’t think bubble wrap would have stopped Zeus,’ I say with a smile, relieved that we can finally joke about this now that the flight is over.
‘Hey, he owes you big time for last summer,’ Mum says. ‘If he’d done anything he’d have been hearing from me.’
‘Oh he’d have regretted that!’ Paul smirks and Mum falls back to hit him.
We pick up our bags from the baggage claim and head out the airport’s sliding doors. We’re instantly hit by a wave of heat. Man, it’s boiling out here! I’ve heard Australia is hot but this is going a bit overboard isn’t it? There’s not a single cloud in the sky and the sun is beating down on the pavement in heavy waves. If the weather’s always like this down under I’m swimming back to the States. I don’t care how suss it looks, this heat is crazy.
I start fanning myself with my hand and we head towards the carpark where Mum’s cousin and her family are meant to meet us. I recognise them immediately by the fact that Lauren looks so much like Mum: thin with mousy blonde hair, a radiant face with smile lines. Upon sighting her cousin, Mum gives a girlish squeal, abandons her suitcase and starts running. Lauren does the same, abandoning her own staring family. Our mums meet halfway between us in a giant squealing hug. I’ve never seen Mum squeal before – it’s like she’s reverted to her teenage self. From the expressions on the others’ faces, they’re thinking the same thing. I chuckle, then chase down Mum’s escaping suitcase.
Mum and Lauren separate as we join them. They both have massive grins plastered to their faces.
‘Lauren, I’d like you to meet my husband, Paul, and my son, Percy,’ Mum says, gesturing to us respectively.
‘And this is Robert and Zac,’ Lauren says. Rob is short and stocky and, according to Mum, is a doctor. Zac is tanned and muscular, definitely a surfy type. I can’t wait to hit the waves with him. Zac gives me a friendly smile as he’s introduced. He has the type of face that is ethnically ambiguous – no wonder he didn’t realise he was adopted. According to Mum he only found out about the adoption recently, something I’ve been strictly instructed not to mention as apparently, in the words of Annabeth, I can be ‘a bit clueless sometimes.’ I have no idea what she means.
I suddenly realise that I’ve completely zoned out of the conversation. I tune back in as Rob (or should I call him Dr Blakely?) explains that they’ve brought two cars since there are six of us and that the women can catch up in one car while us blokes (what a great word) go in the other.
The ‘blokes’ (my new favourite word) split off from the mums. We head towards a car further into the carpark and pile in. It takes a second for me to notice that the steering wheel is on the right! It’s like this place is a mirror image of America where everything is the same but different. We buckle ourselves in and then are off. If seeing the driver on the right was weird it feels even weirder driving in the left lane. I’m glad it’s Dr Blakely driving and not me or Paul.
‘So,’ Zac says from beside me as if breaking an awkward silence. I guess I’ve been too distracted by the whole driving-on-the-wrong-side-of-the-road thing to realise that the silence might be awkward, so I turn my attention to my cousin (not really cousin but sort of).
‘So, what's America like?’ he says. ‘Mum said you spend every summer at some cool camp?’
I settle myself in for a long car ride of dodging the truth.