Chapter Text
Be at the Trie Cloister at 5PM today!
Wear something nice!
DON’T BE LATE!
Annabeth’s instructions—left on a sticky note near Percy’s bed for him to see first thing when he woke up—were clear, and at the same time, bafflingly mysterious. What was at the Cloisters? He’d never been to the Met’s famous gardens before, even though they were on the same island. And why did he have to wear something nice? (Also: hey, what was wrong with his clothes?)
He read the note again, and then a third time, still waking up, still processing, before the thought hit him: did Annabeth…did she want to meet ? Why else would she write a note like this? Was she in the city today? What if she figured out what was happening to them? A pulse of excitement made his blood rush, supercharged, and he leaped out of bed.
Working at the bakery that day went in a blur. All he could think about was Annabeth. What should he say to her when he sees her? “Hey?” “Sup?” Definitely something cool and effortless. He’d work on it. Should they hug? Shake hands? What was the protocol here? He wished there was a guidebook: So You’re About to Meet The Girl You’ve Been Body Swapping With! For Dummies
When he mentioned to his mom that he was heading out early, she asked him where he was going. “The Cloisters” he said.
Her eyebrows rose and she dusted her hands clean of flour, in the middle of prepping for tomorrow’s bread batch. “Ooh la la,” she said. “Is it for a date?”
“What? No,” he said, almost like a knee-jerk reaction.
But she smiled knowingly. “Have fun. Be home by eleven.”
Was that what it was? A date? Was it so obvious to anyone else but him? He and Annabeth hardly knew each other. It couldn’t be a date. Right?
But Percy took Annabeth’s note to heart. If they were going to meet in person, then he wanted to make an attempt at a good first impression, though the window for that had long-since passed. What was happening between them deserved its own category of “first impressions.” Once he got back home and showered off, he settled on wearing one of his nicer t-shirts, clean jeans, and one of his dad’s old blazers that just barely fit him. He hoped it didn’t smell too much like the storage unit in the basement. Last but not least, he re-secured the red friendship bracelet around his left wrist—his lucky charm. He hardly left the house without it, and for all he knew, he’d need it.
The MTA gods smiled down on him, and the train was actually on time for once, so he made it to the Met Cloisters with minutes to spare. The castle-like museum stood on top of a steep hill, surrounded by the greenery of Fort Tryon Park. It was already swarming with tourists, all enjoying the warm afternoon sun.
In the crowd, he searched for a familiar face. He’d seen it in the mirror so many times, but he worried it would be different seeing her through his eyes, that he might not recognize her at first. A familiar slurry of excitement wormed its way through his gut. Or was it nerves? Both? He didn’t know, and not knowing somehow made it worse.
He climbed the uneven stone steps and entered the museum, passing each cloister on his way to the meeting spot with growing anticipation.
But when he turned the corner to the Trie cafe, and saw her waiting there, his heart could have dropped out of his ribcage and splattered on his sneakers.
He was late. Annabeth checked the time on her phone, tapping her foot and glancing up at the faces in the crowd, waiting to recognize one.
The late afternoon sun made the pavement shimmer, and sweat pooled in the small of her back, despite the shade of the umbrella set up by the restaurant.
A mixture of anxiety and anticipation churned in her stomach as she waited. She was half-expecting a last minute cancellation text when she saw him coming, walking with a stiff gait down the sidewalk toward her, his blond hair disheveled as usual. In one arm, he carried a cardboard shoebox, and he waved with his other.
“Hey, Annabear,” her father Frederick Chase said, smiling.
Out of the blue, he’d texted her that morning, asking if she wanted to meet for dinner. It was one of the rare times he was within driving distance, on a work trip. Because why else would he make a visit? Annabeth had thought, cynically. Sure, her school was next to a small town, and it wasn’t exactly the most touristy destination. The biggest event of the year was the annual harvest festival. But the last time she’d seen him in person was Christmas two years ago. Who would she be to tell him no, even if this was one of the last ways she wanted to spend a Saturday?
Annabeth put on a smile when he came over with a one-armed hug, clasping her awkwardly around the shoulders as he pulled her to his side, and gave her a little shake. It was a hug meant for distant relatives, not the daughter you haven’t seen in months.
“‘Annabear’?” she asked when she pulled away.
“You don’t like it? I thought it would be a cool nickname.”
For too many reasons to count, the attempt at familiarity rang hollow. In the seventeen years she’d been his only daughter, he’d never called her anything other than her given name. But her father was always kind of awkward, and his smile was genuine, so it was a kindness for her to let it go. He’d tried to patch their rocky relationship in his own way over the years, and this was probably one of them. Making up for lost time.
She cleared her throat. “What’s that?” she asked, gesturing to the box in his other arm.
“It’s a surprise,” he said, grinning. He gestured to the open tables on the restaurant patio. “Let’s sit. I’m starving.”
“Calypso,” Percy said.
She was sitting on the portico bordering the Trie garden wearing her signature white sundress that made her look all the more angelic. She’d even woven golden threads through her braided hair. When she turned at the sound of her name and saw him, she smiled. It was like a spotlight came on. Even in one of the most beautiful places in the city, all eyes were on her. People sitting at the small tables in the cafe stared at her as she hopped down from the portico and walked to him.
“Hey! You made it!” Calypso’s eyes are bright and excited. She’d been expecting him. “I’m so happy to see you!”
It took him far too long to realize what was going on: this was what the note was about. Annabeth had set him up on a date with Calypso. The Calypso. The girl who made the entirety of the English language and basic human behavior escape his brain and body because she simply looked at him. The girl who he’s had a soul-aching crush on for the past two years. The girl he was convinced would never agree to going on a date with him. Ever. In a million years.
He felt like he’d been hit by a car all over again.
“You look a lot better,” she said. “How’s your face?”
Percy traced the scabs over his cheek with a light knuckle. “Uh, good. Thanks.” No credit to him. He owed Annabeth big time for her help.
He still couldn’t quite believe this was happening. He was more tongue-tied than ever, but if Calypso noticed, she was polite enough not to mention it.
“Shall we?” she asked, tipping her head onward.
The date, by all metrics, was good. Not that Percy had been on a real date to compare it to, but it seemed to fit the bill. He paid for their drinks at the café and they spent the rest of the afternoon walking through the cloisters, looking at all of the tapestries and illuminated manuscripts on display while they talked. And once his tongue started cooperating, he was able to hold up his side of the conversation. Time flew by, and for a while it felt like nothing else existed outside of the museum walls, like they were on a secluded island together. He almost forgot how shy he used to be around Calypso, how she'd completely fry his brain with a single smile. But now he was really getting to know her, and for some reason, it took the pressure off.
He learned a lot about her: how she was the only child of multi-national corporation magnates, and they left her home alone most of the year; how she spent most of her time with her hobbies, like weaving and gardening; how much she loved the Cloisters, and how great he’d been for choosing it as a first date. Annabeth was making him look a lot better than he actually was.
He wasn’t one for going to museums, or slowing down long enough to appreciate art, but Annabeth wanted him to be here. It meant something to him that it meant something to her. What, he wasn’t quite sure. But he looked at each piece, and he kept thinking about her. He wanted to know what she would think upon seeing them. This whole date was her idea, after all. She should be here to enjoy it.
Without warning, Calypso’s hand slid into his, jolting him out of his thoughts, as she led him to one tapestry depicting a unicorn lying down in a fenced enclosure. They stood in front of it together for some time, just staring at it, taking it in. The detail was incredible. He could hardly believe something like that was woven out of thread.
“This one is always my favorite,” she said, eyes glassy, as she looked upon it with an unmasked vulnerability that made a lump form in Percy’s throat. Percy noticed the unicorn was leashed to a tree.
He didn’t know how to talk about art, or how to put into words how it made him feel, but he understood.
For some reason, the unicorn reminded him of Annabeth.
Calypso’s hand was warm and soft in his, and his fingers twitched reflexively. She smiled at him, and if things were different, he would have kissed her. But he didn’t. He’d dreamed of this exact moment so many times before, but now…
“Want to go on a walk?” he asked. He needed air.
“How’s school?” Frederick asked while he stacked his fork with salad greens.
“It’s fine,” said Annabeth.
“Everything going well?”
“All good.”
The conversation died, like a collapsing star. They didn’t say anything to each other for a long minute, both of them focused on their plates. Even the waiter who came over to refill their waters gave them curious glances, probably wondering if he’d interrupted bad news. Annabeth wished this would be over soon.
It went like this all during dinner. Attempts at conversation would spark, only to fizzle shortly after. It was like pushing a boulder up a hill, only for it to roll back down to the bottom again. Neither of them could muster the strength to keep it going for long.
“How are Bobby and Matthew?” Annabeth asked, about her twin half-brothers.
“Good! Good.”
The conversation sputtered once more. Annabeth spun her water glass on its napkin while her father watched the cars rumbling down main street.
After all these years, she still didn’t know how to talk to her father. Their tumultuous relationship was a decade in the making, and to act like everything was fine was an exercise in futility. But Annabeth had to give him credit. He was here, and that had to mean something.
But it used to be so much worse. When Annabeth was growing up, he had been either so focused on his own work or his own hobbies, he hardly paid any attention to her, but when he did pay attention to her, it was because she was doing something wrong. Being too emotional, taking up too much space, failing school because of her ADHD and dyslexia. She’d had to learn how to box herself into other people’s boundaries in order to feel loved.
And when Frederick married his new wife, started a new family, Annabeth truly believed that she wasn’t wanted anymore. So she ran away. When she was returned home in the back of a cop car, it put a strain on the family. Expensive family counseling, and child protective services, and all manner of legal fallout would do that. And her step-mother never truly forgave her for it. Annabeth had become a nuisance. An embarrassment. A problem to be dealt with.
Getting accepted in Olympia Academy of Fine Arts had saved their relationship from ultimately imploding. Boarding school was the only way they could all be happy.
It was hard to stop hating her father after feeling abandoned by him. But Annabeth didn’t have much of a choice. He was the only family she had left.
Dessert came and went, and they still weren’t able to talk about anything other than the weather, or sports, or how good the food was before it seemed the both of them called forfeit. Annabeth’s social battery was running low, and so was her father’s. It took effort putting on a show.
“Well,” Frederick finally said, sliding the box toward her across the table. “I brought you something.”
For a brief moment, Annabeth thought it was an early birthday present, but when Annabeth opened the lid, her heart sank.
It was a box of photographs…a box of Annabeth’s whole life. As a newborn, cradled in her father’s arms; as a gap-toothed kindergartener squatting in front of a frog she’d found in the yard; as a seven-year-old, playing tag with her cousin in Boston. She could only look at so many before she knew they would all be of her. She knew why, before he even explained.
“Your mom was clearing some things out, making room in the attic. She wanted you to have them.”
“That woman is not my mother” was what she wanted to say. Instead, all that came out was: “Oh.”
Frederick smiled, misreading her reaction. “She thought you might want to keep them, now that you’re out of the house,” Frederick said, as if it was a good reason, as if she couldn’t see the truth tucked away in between each photograph. She was masking it behind a facade of good will, but Mrs. Chase made it plain and clear: Annabeth wasn’t part of her family.
For some reason, Annabeth was reminded of Sally’s photos of Percy, proudly displayed on the walls in their apartment, and the pain behind her sternum only went deeper. Tears threatened to come, burning behind her eyes, and it pricked deep in her nose.
So this is what it was like to be erased from someone’s life.
“Great,” she said, managing to keep her voice flat and her face neutral. “Thanks.”
Percy and Calypso made a lazy loop around Fort Tryon Park when evening set in and they ate ice cream as they walked, taking in the colors of the sunset. It was almost fully dark by the time they crossed the Chittenden Overlook and took in its sweeping view of the Washington Bridge. A strip of light was all that was left of the sun, casting an orange band across the horizon. It made the Hudson sparkle like it was a river of fireflies.
“I’m glad today happened,” Calypso said, sighing contentedly as she bit off the last of her chocolate ice cream cone. “Not many people have guts like you do.”
“What do you mean?”
She tipped her head to the side as she admitted, “I know how people look at me. Stare. Not many people actually drum up the nerve to talk to me, you know, like a person, let alone ask me out.”
Percy hoped the flush on his cheeks wasn’t obvious. “Maybe they’re intimidated.”
Her eyes flashed, playfully. “And you’re not?”
Percy’s blush made his face feel sunburned. Another point for Annabeth. He might not have ever had the guts to ask her out. “I have my good days.”
She laughed at that, even though Percy hadn’t made a joke. He was making her laugh without trying. In any other life, he would have felt like the king of the universe.
“Your text was a welcome surprise,” she said.
“My, uh, friend encouraged me.” Annabeth felt like so much more than a friend, even though they were still technically strangers. It was the best thing he could come up with, though, that would make sense to Calypso. “I’m just shocked you’d even want to go out with me.”
“Of course I would! I have to be honest, though, I don’t go on a lot of dates.”
“Really?” he said.
“I’m picky.”
She scrunched up her nose in fake disgust, and this time Percy laughed.
“But I was worried at first!” she said. “When I saw you today, you almost looked…” She trailed off, scrutinizing him with a curious squint. “Nevermind.”
“What?” he asked.
She seemed to consider if she should continue for a moment before she said, “It’s funny, you almost looked—I don’t know, like you were expecting someone else.”
Percy blinked. Was that true? Could she read him so easily? “I just didn’t think you’d be there.” He was being honest, at least.
“You thought I’d flake after you asked me out?” Her tone was teasing, and she bumped him with her hip. “I can’t believe you’d think so poorly of me.”
“No, no way,” he said, bashfully. Percy was at a loss for words. “I’m not really sure what I thought would happen today.”
His smile faltered slightly and silence fell between the two of them. She admired the way the light sparkled off the water as Percy fumbled to fill the awkward gap that was starting to feel like a canyon between them. He ran his thumb over the lucky charm bracelet on his wrist out of habit and scrambled for something to say.
This date was everything he had ever wanted. Or
thought
he’d ever wanted. Why, then, did it feel so hollow? So…nothing? It wasn’t like there was anything wrong with Calypso. In fact, there was everything
right
with her. So then why wasn’t he happy? Why didn’t he feel anything more toward her? Why did he feel like something was missing?
“Calypso, listen, I …” He didn’t know what to say, or how to explain it. He just knew he had to tell her the truth, in a way that made sense. And he couldn’t back out now, not when she was looking at him like that, all doe-eyed and expectant. “I had a really nice time with you, really. I mean, not nice, it was great . But…”
“But there’s someone else, isn’t there,” Calypso said.
Percy stopped in his tracks and waved his hands. “No! No! I swear! I’m not that kinda guy.”
“It’s okay,” she said, still smiling as she spun toward him, though Percy noticed how the light had diminished from her eyes. Like a small cloud had passed over the sun. “You might not even know it yet, but I can tell with these sorts of things. Your heart’s got strings.” She gently jabbed her finger into his sternum. “There’s someone for all of us. We just need to find them, wherever they are.”
Percy swallowed the lump of emotion in his throat. “I’d like for us to still be friends though. If you want.”
To his surprise, she rose up on her toes and kissed him on his good cheek, her lips leaving his skin tingling, even after she pulled away. “Friends,” she agreed.
When they left the restaurant, Frederick awkwardly put his arm around Annabeth once more, giving her a final one-armed hug and jostling shake before he walked back to his car. Annabeth would be walking home on her own with the box of photographs in hand.
Annabeth glanced at the time on her phone as she took a shortcut, a wooded path up the hill, and her heart hitched. Percy should be on his date with Calypso right now. That painful ache in her chest returned and she had a sudden urge to call him.
She stopped in the middle of the path and, as if possessed, she pulled up his contact. She’d memorized and saved his number, just in case.
He was the only one she wanted to talk to right now. She wanted for him to pick up and for her to not feel so alone for a minute. She wanted to tell him about what a shit day she had. She wanted to hear his voice.
She stopped herself before she could hit the call button. She couldn’t ruin his date. He’d never forgive her. She’d already meddled enough in his life. She knew, rationally, that she had no reason to be jealous of Calypso. After all, it had been her own idea to set her and Percy up on a date. She’d wanted to surprise him. She knew, without a doubt, that he’d have fun.
So then why did it hurt so much to think about him being with someone else? It didn’t make any sense. She had no business feeling this way, but she hated that she did.
Calypso let Percy walk her to the train station and she waved at him, smiling, as her train pulled away. Percy stood on the platform long after the sound of the wheels squealing on the track faded.
After a few minutes, Percy’s own train arrived, but he let it go without him. He knew he should go home, he had nothing else to do, but he turned and left the station.
Once he was back outside, he pulled out his phone and stared at the cracked screen.
He had memorized Annabeth’s phone number. In case of emergencies. He’d never considered using it until now. But what would he say?
'I was just thinking about you' ? I wanted to hear your voice' ? ' I miss you' ?
He rubbed the back of his neck and cringed. How was it possible he could miss someone he’d never met?
He paced under the street lamps above the sidewalk and stared at his phone, as if it were a Magic Eight Ball, ready to supply him with the answers to his problems.
He could thank her for setting him up on a date with Calypso, for starters. But would she even want to talk to him? He’d been nothing but a pain in her life. That slurry of excitement and anxiety was swirling in his gut again. It had been gone all during his date with Calypso, and now it was back with a vengeance.
Before he could talk himself out of it, he dialed Annabeth’s number and listened to it ring.
Annabeth’s heart felt raw and fragile as she stood there, staring at her phone, and then it pinged. A text from a contact called Parental Unit came on the screen: Glad I could find time to catch up with you, Annabear!
Found time. Not made time. Found. Like it had been lost and miraculously unearthed. It was strange how such an innocuous statement could break her in half.
She knew she shouldn’t have gotten her hopes up about seeing her father today. She should be used to this by now. The last minute cancellations. The “oops missed your call” messages. The belated “happy birthday!” texts.
Since she could remember, Frederick Chase was a constant, measurable disappointment.
But every time he reached out, like he was making a real attempt to connect, she couldn’t help but wonder if things could be different, if he’d changed, if he’d realized how much it hurt to hope that things could be better. That maybe, magically, he could become a better parent.
And every time, every time, he failed. And now she had a whole box of photographic evidence to show for it. The only thing she could do now was laugh. She felt so…numb.
The one consolation that had come out of today was that she had been the one to meet her father, and not Percy. It wasn’t that she didn’t think Percy could handle it, or that Percy would have the frame of mind to reschedule for her. It was that she didn’t want him to know. She didn’t want Percy to know what kind of father she had, the kind who couldn’t even stand up for her, one who couldn’t even care less about her. She didn’t want him to realize just how jealous she had become of his life, of something as silly as photographs on a wall.
The tears threatened to come once more. Her vision blurred, but she forced herself to take a steadying breath to drive the tears back. But it was becoming a losing battle. She held the power button and shut off her phone.
Percy kept listening to the phone ring.
And ring.
And ring.
It never even went to voicemail. Annabeth must not have one set up. Eventually, he hung up and stared up at the flat twilight sky. Only one star was bright enough to pierce the city lights. How many stars could Annabeth see right now?
You just need to find them, wherever they are.
And it was at that moment, when Annabeth felt so incredibly alone on the wooded path and she could let the tears fall in the safety of darkness, that she looked up at the velvet twilight sky, at the sprawl of starlight overhead, and allowed herself to wonder if Percy might be looking at them too.