Percy Jackson and the Curse of Lust

When I first saw Camp, it never felt crowded. That was a thing of the past now, but it was a change I'd always welcome.

With cabins for the minor gods and the Olympians (mostly) looking out for the children they left scattered across the country, the amount of campers had tripled. As I strolled to the lake a girl with the tell-tale sharp features of Hermes led a group of friends between campers, trying to pawn off trinkets made in metal shop in exchange for better chore slots. The baubles looked pretty worthless, but the girl was a good enough salesman that they weren't getting chased off. Her friends weren't kids of any major god, maybe from Hebe or Tyche's cabins. The fact that I couldn't tell for sure was kind of awesome.

In fact, I barely saw anyone I recognized on my way to the lake. Connor Stoll was skulking suspiciously close to the camp store, and much closer to the dock Clarisse was chewing out a younger camper. She must've really been angry, because I could see pink on her cheeks. Her eyes locked onto me as I passed. I didn't like how long they stayed.

But that didn't dim my mood. The day was sunny. I'd reached the water, and walked straight off the dock, dropping in feet first. Most importantly, the sensation of Annabeth was still fresh in my mind. I was smiling. It was probably a dopey one.

I played around for a while, propelling myself under the water. I tried to correct a son of Hephaestus's kayak paddling form, but I guess I didn't think it through. The sight of me bursting out of the water spouting advice shocked him so bad that he capsized. I dried him off as an apology, then left him to his business.

One game of tag with Naiads later, I was getting hungry. Lunch time was soon. But as I pulled myself out of the water, someone was waiting for me.

"Jackson," Clarisse said, standing on the doc above me.

I gripped the wood and hauled myself up. I cheated a little and used the water to boost me, landing in a crouch.

"Clarisse," I said. "Can I help you with something?"

Like Annabeth and I, the former Ares councilor had moved on. She was taking college classes down in Arizona, only back on Long Island for a vacation. We go way back, but 'friends' isn't the world I'd use. Usually the only time she sought me out was when she was looking for a fight— a spar with someone that could last longer than thirty seconds against her, or the nastier get-your-anger-out type.

Her cheeks were still flushed. There was something in her eyes that I wasn't used to seeing there, but I couldn't place what it was. That made me uneasy.

"All day," she half-growled, "you've been popping up in my head. Making my blood boil."

"Why?"

"I don't know," she said.

There was a moment of awkward silence. What do you say to that? You really pissed me off, but you don't know what you did and neither do I. There was still something about the flush in her face that was unnatural, too. Enough to make me want to turn tail and dive back underwater.

Finally, she crossed her arms. They were some sizable arms, and the way they pushed up her sizable chest wasn't enough to distract me from the thought of getting pulverized by them.

"What did you do?" she demanded.

"What did I do?" I asked incredulously. "I just woke up. How do you know I did anything?"

She glowered. "You must've. You're always doing something."

"That's offensive, because it's kind of true," I said. "But you can't pick a fight just because you woke up on the wrong side of the bed."

"Fight?" Her eyes unfocused, like she was mulling over a question in her head. Then they zeroed in on me: focused, alert, and maybe a little predatory. "I don't want to fight you. I want to pound you."

An image of those big calloused first slamming into me flashed through my head— or worse yet, her spear. I almost always won our spars, but that didn't make getting there any less painful.

"That counts as fighting," I pointed out, standing up slowly. "Or beating, or assault. None of which are good."

She smiled wickedly and took a step closer. That was as far as I let things get.

The lake surged up, everywhere but where I stood. It rushed around me, grabbed Clarisse and dragged her underwater before her eyes had time to widen. Before she broke the surface, I was gone.

I would pay for that later. I knew I would. But I was in too good a mood to let a petty fight ruin it— not until I had a full stomach, at least. This was a problem future Percy could deal with.

In a few hours, I'd come to regret that decision.

"Percy?" Juniper asked, staring up at me from the forest floor.

Grover's girlfriend looked the same as ever. Her bright red hair and greenish pale skin stood out even twenty feet below me, and her pretty elfish features were screwed up in a politely confused expression.

"Hey, Juniper," I said, kicking my feet off the branch I was perched on.

She smiled uncertainly. "Can I ask what you're doing here?"

"You mean up a tree in the forest?" I said. "Sure."

"…What are you doing here?"

"Hiding," I said.

"From what?" she asked, red eyebrows furrowing together.

I opened my mouth, but a female voice beat me to it.

"Jaaaaaacksoooooon," echoed from somewhere in the woods, not too close but not as far as I would've liked. Grimacing, I pushed off the branch.

Juniper squeaked as I thudded down beside her, but I flashed a thumbs up to show that such a short fall was fine.

"Gotta run," I said. "If she finds you, tell her I went that way."

I pointed off, deeper into the woods. Then I turned and ran the opposite direction, leaving one befuddled nymph in the dust. Less than a minute later I heard the voice behind me.

"Which way did he go?!"

I hoped Juniper listened.

Now, you may be wondering. How did things escalate this badly? Because yeah, that was Clarisse on my trail, chasing me through monster infested woods. And how it came to this is a great question— so good, actually, that I would've loved the answer myself.

When I ran to lunch, I swiped food and didn't stick around. Once I'd eaten, I headed to the arena. Better to face my fate head on. If she wanted a spar, we'd get it over with and I could get on with my day.

That didn't last a second after she came into view. Her face had been completely red. She wasn't sweating, but every breath was as deep as a pant. She looked angrier than I'd ever seen, more like one of the metal bulls we tag-teamed years ago than the college girl that she was supposed to be. She didn't waste any time, going straight for trying to pin me against a wall.

Once you've survived as much as I have, you start to learn which fights are worth taking. So I put my head down and ran.

I was hoping she'd run out of steam, but it hadn't happened yet. So I was onto my final plan. Far off, a conch horn sounded.

Even like this, Clarisse wouldn't start something at the Pavilion. Not with Chiron right there. If anyone could calm her down, it was him.

I just had to get there first.

"You look red," Annabeth said. "Were you working out?"

"Don't worry about it," I said. "It's all over now."

"Ominous," she said, scraping half of her mac and cheese into a wall of flames.

One of the perks of coming back to visit is that the rules aren't as strict. I joined the Athena cabin to make my sacrifices, and if I'd wanted I probably could've snagged a seat at a friend's table. The Poseidon table was good enough, though.

"Have you talked to Clarisse at all today?" I asked.

"No, but that isn't unusual." Annabeth studied her plate, then pushed one extra bite into the brazier before turning away. "Is there a reason you care?"

"She's been chasing me," I said.

Annabeth blinked. "Why?"

"I'd love to know," I said, "but I'm worried about my health if I stop to ask."

That wasn't completely true. But even leaving out the lake dunking incident, it wasn't like she hadn't been acting completely crazy.

Annabeth glanced around while I made my sacrifice.

"You're hoping Chiron will stop her," she decided. "Not a terrible plan."

"Think it'll work?"

"It might," she said.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence."

She shrugged, which I took to mean good luck. Then she headed for her table and I went to mine.

I got three bites into my food before it happened, which was just enough to give me hope that she wouldn't show.

A heavy boot thudded onto the bench beside me. I don't know how I didn't hear her coming. Her breath was coming in long, loud pants.

"Found you," Clarisse said.

She was wearing camo cargo pants, a staple of hers, but she'd shed her shirt at some point in the chase to cool off — from the looks of her it hadn't been enough — leaving her in a modest sports bra that her not-so-modest chest strained against.

The scene was enough to pull Chiron's attention away from his salad at the table he shared with Mr. D. For his part, Dionysus only had eyes for his grape juice.

"Clarisse," said the centaur. "I understand you've been away and things may work differently at college, but I would appreciate it if you didn't emulate my relatives by arriving at dinner semi-clothed."

She didn't answer him. She loomed over me, staring down. The blush had spread to cover her entire face, bright and rosy. A sheen of sweat ran over every inch of her skin.

"Clarisse?" Chiron repeated.

More people were looking now. I was torn between bolting, standing my ground, and staying totally still to keep her from moving. She was right above me.

"I want…" Clarisse said. The second half was too much of a mumble to make out, cut off by her panting.

"Look, Clarisse," I said, "I'm sorry I dumped you in the lake. But you've been weird all day. Even weirder than usual. So I guess what I'm saying is, this isn't my fault."

"I want Percy…"

To die? To get beaten into a pulp? There were a ton of ways that sentence could end, and you can't hold it against me for being invested in which one she was going for, given the context. By now, everybody was watching. Even Mr. D.

"Nobody told me this meal would come with free entertainment," the god said.

"Clarisse!" Chiron barked, not unkindly but louder. "Are you feeling alright, my girl?"

"I want… I want…" Clarisse took a few deep, steadying breaths. People leaned forward. I leaned away. Mr. D. took a sip of his juice. Clarisse took one last breath, bent down, and bellowed:

"I WANT PERCY JACKSON'S THICK COCK TO FILL ME UP!"

Then she collapsed.