Chores and Choices

[Samantha Adams]

Samantha sighed as she reviewed the chore chart hanging on the Athena cabin's wall. It was hard to ignore that Henrietta's duties had been consistently neglected for the past few days. This was problematic not just because the chores needed to get done, but because it now interfered with Samantha's secret plans to see Evelyn, the Aphrodite camper she had secretly started dating. Samantha's eyes flickered involuntarily to her watch. She had hoped to steal some time away this afternoon, away from the scrutinizing gaze of her siblings and the responsibilities of being a senior camper. But Henrietta's lax attitude had suddenly made that impossible.

With a reluctant inhale, Samantha approached Henrietta. "Hey, Henrietta, can we talk? I've noticed you've been falling behind on your chores." Samantha kept her voice steady and respectful but couldn't fully suppress a note of annoyance. In her head, she was already strategizing about how to get Henrietta to understand the importance of chores without coming off as a dictator. The last thing she wanted was to ignite Henrietta's famously combative spirit, especially over something as mundane as chores. However, Samantha couldn't shake the undercurrent of frustration that flowed through her. It was a tension twined not just around her duties as a cabin leader but also around the budding relationship that she was, against her better judgment, becoming deeply invested in.

Samantha's eyes briefly met Henrietta's as she awaited her response. For a moment, Samantha let herself indulge in a quick fantasy where Henrietta would just say, 'You're right, I'll get right on it,' allowing her to escape to Evelyn's waiting arms. But given their history, and Henrietta's never-back-down attitude, that felt about as likely as Zeus giving up his throne. Nevertheless, Samantha held onto a sliver of hope that her straightforward approach would inspire a positive change. After all, they were both children of Athena; if anyone could appreciate the importance of duty, it was them. And yet, at the back of her mind, she couldn't help but feel a growing resentment—resentment that her personal life had to be sacrificed yet again for the sake of responsibility. It was a sentiment she'd never voice aloud, but one that she couldn't quite dismiss.

 

@ Henrietta Abbot

[Henrietta Abbot]

Henry knew Samantha's footsteps by heart. It was a quick, steady pace that usually heralded a massive pain-in-the-ass lecture. Having it memorised meant that Henry usually had enough time to stub out a cigarette, or turn her amp down. But today she wasn't even being disruptive! Just sitting cross-legged on her bed, trying to understand the situation with Liam Santos... Samantha Adams's unwelcome voice disrupted her thoughtful glowering. Gods, she had some nerve! Okay, maybe Henry hadn't done her chores in a couple of days -- she couldn't help that she had so much on her plate. Her stupid kiss with Liam was quickly becoming old news, and he still hadn't spoken to her. It was a living nightmare; she was too anxious and angry to be stuck sweeping and cleaning!

"I've told you a million times," she said through gritted teeth. "It's Henry. Were you genetically engineered to piss me off, or is this deliberate?" At the word 'this' she gestured vaguely to the older girl. Just because she was cabin leader didn't mean she had to be such a buzzkill. Something about her impatient expression had made Henry go on the offensive; it was a bad time to mess with her. "Get one of the newbies to cover me. It's their mess anyway." This wasn't strictly true. The communal areas, maybe, but Henry did tend to leave a small trail of chaos wherever she went. Eyeliner pencils, marble dust from her sculptures, mud from the training ground, etc. And, sure, she practised her swordplay on the doorframe sometimes. How else was she supposed to get the upper hand over Liam? Besides, she contributed to the cabin in ways other than chores. Like by being a delightful presence.  

"Wow, Sam, I just thought of something! If you didn't come into my room unannounced, maybe you wouldn't see my mess," Henry glared at her half-sister. Seriously, how were they even related?

[Samantha Adams]

Samantha felt a flare of irritation at Henrietta's defiance, her use of the nickname 'Sam' adding fuel to the fire. She clenched her jaw briefly before speaking, taking a moment to gather herself. "It's Samantha, Henrietta, not 'Sam.' And for the record, 'Sam' and 'Henry' sound like boys' names, don't you think? Regardless, I'm afraid having newcomers do your chores isn't how things work here. We all have responsibilities, and we're all expected to fulfill them."

Struggling to maintain her composure, Samantha glanced around the cluttered room. She understood stress and distractions; God knows she had her own. But rules were rules. "Your personal concerns may be valid, Henrietta, but they don't excuse you from contributing to the cabin. I can't allow you to neglect your duties and set a poor example for the others." Her eyes met Henrietta's for a moment, conveying a sense of sincerity but also authority. She knew her role as a cabin leader was to keep peace and ensure everyone did their part, but why did it always have to come at the expense of her own needs and wants?

Feeling an internal tug-of-war between her sense of duty and her yearning to be elsewhere, Samantha sighed softly. "So, let's start with this room. I'll help you get it into shape, but we have to get it done now." Her tone was more diplomatic this time, an olive branch of sorts, though she doubted it would change Henrietta's stance. Inside, Samantha felt a mix of frustration and resignation. She stared out the window toward Cabin 10, oh how she longed to be meeting Evelyn, sharing stolen moments away from the ever-watchful eyes of the camp, yet here she was, about to supervise room-cleaning. It was moments like this that made her question the fairness of the universe, and whether the Gods themselves had a sense of humor—at her expense, of course.

[Henrietta Abbot]

"If I'm 'Henrietta', you're Sam. Get used to it," Henry snapped. It became pretty damn clear that Samantha wasn't going anywhere. She stood in the doorway like a victim of Medusa: Stoney-faced and still. However genuine her diplomacy was, Henry still felt like the girl viewed her as inferior somehow. This had been her problem with her ever since she came to CHB. Samantha always followed the rules, disregarded fun of any kind as frivolous and expected everyone else to do the same. Then she looked down on them if they didn't. People like that drove Henry absolutely crazy. They were demigods for Zeus's sake! They were practically built to have fun. 

"The newbies are getting too mouthy anyway," she retorted, falling back dramatically on her bed. "Can't you think of something they need to be punished for? I know nobody bothers you with the gossip, but I'm in the middle of something here." A passing Ares camper yelled something through the window, as though punctuating her sentence. Getting up to shout some expletives after them, Henry stumbled over her guitar case. Fine. Maybe she did need to clean. 

"Whatever Sam, I'll do it. You don't need to supervise me, I'm a big girl now." Glaring over her shoulder at the older girl, Henry couldn't help but notice she was staring wistfully out of the window. It wasn't even a nice view! Just the gaudy Aphrodite cabin. "Nobody's making you do this. If you've got somewhere to be, don't let me stop you." She really hoped Samantha would take her up on that offer. All Henry really needed to find Liam and ask him what in Tartarus was going on. Maybe kiss him again. Or whatever.

Absentmindedly, Henry folded a few shirts and forced them into her over-stuffed drawers. She kicked a couple of sketchbooks under her bed. Hey, the illusion of cleanliness is good enough, right? 

[Samantha Adams]

Samantha clenched her teeth as the constant use of 'Sam' getting on her nerves more than she'd like to admit. "Fine, Henry it is then. But if you're going to call me 'Sam,' you can now expect an extra week of sweeping the cabin on your chore list." She inwardly braced for the inevitable backlash from Henrietta. Still, she felt she had to maintain some authority, especially if she wanted to enforce the rules within the cabin. It was a matter of principle as well as practicality; if one person slid by, it would set a precedent for others to shirk their duties as well. Then out of the corner of her eye Samantha saw Henrietta kick a sketchbook under the bed. For a moment, Samantha's annoyance subsided, replaced by a flicker of curiosity and, yes, an opportunity. Maybe this was the common ground they needed to move beyond their apparent hostility. "So you draw?" Samantha leaned down and picked up the sketchbook, handling it carefully, as she wanted to make sure Henriettia......Henry wouldn't think she was going to toss it aside. "May I?" she asked, genuinely interested as she glanced from the sketchbook to Henry. It was a calculated risk to show personal interest but perhaps one worth taking if it meant creating a more cooperative atmosphere.

Behind her words and actions though was a loud mess of thoughts; calculations about what she could and could not accomplish in the time she had, whether her secret relationship with Evelyn was at risk, and how to navigate her leadership responsibilities without losing herself in the process. It was the eternal balancing act of a child of Athena, where duty and personal desire were in a constant tug of war. As she stood there sketchbook in hand, hoping Henry would share more about herself, Samantha was aware that she was making yet another sacrifice in the name of responsibility. But at least this time it was infused with a hope that it might lead to something better, a more harmonious relationship with her cabin mate, which if she was honest was worth its weight in gold.