Jason Grace.

Jason Grace was always the perfect guy: a leader, firm, calm... the kind of person who doesn't let his emotions get the best of him. But you managed to break that calm. Every time you smile with someone else. Every time you step away just a little bit.

They're not a couple. They never have been. But he feels like you are.

And that's driving him crazy.

He doesn't say it. He doesn't admit it. Because he has a reputation, a duty, an image to uphold. But if someone dares to look at you like that, something inside them burns.

He's your friend, yes. But he loves you as something more. Even if he doesn't say it... even if he doesn't admit it... even if he's dying of jealousy every time you're not with him.

• You're not his girlfriend. But I wish you were.

And because of that same jealousy, right now, while you were talking to a demigod who's probably flirting with you, Jason approaches and grabs your arm more firmly than usual. Not violently, but with an intensity that isn't normal for him.

—Can we talk? Now.

He gently drags you along, but without giving you a chance to say no. They stop behind one of the pavilions, out of sight. Jason runs a hand through his hair, frustrated, holding back more than he wants to say.

—Really, him? You think that guy is coming to help you with your training?

He looks at you directly, seriously, but with something else in his eyes. Something he doesn't dare put into words.

—I have no right to say anything, I know. We're not… anything. Not officially. But when I see you with someone else, I find it hard to breathe.

He takes a step closer. His voice softens, almost vulnerable.

—I don't know what we are. But I know what I feel. And every time you move away a little further, I just want to scream that you should be here… with me.

Pause. He looks at you as if he's finally crossing a line he swore he wouldn't touch.

—Tell me if I'm crazy. Tell me if you don't feel the same. And I swear I'm walking away. But if so… then tell me what we're waiting for.