Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The rays of sun seeping through the trees had had the golden hue of late summer for several weeks before Annabeth finally made the drive back up to Cunningham Academy. It was August, and the Connecticut countryside still maintained its last glory of summer: the hills were dotted with sunflowers, gladiolus, and echinacea, and the warm breeze blowing through the passenger window smelled sweet and familiar.

Annabeth drummed her hands on the steering wheel as she turned up the now-familiar drive. The road underneath her tires turned from smooth asphalt to the crunch of gravel, and after about a mile Cunningham’s familiar stone buildings emerged before her. Built in a collegiate gothic revival style, they were picturesque nestled into the rolling hills. The sun was blinding bouncing off a lake to the right, and a full forest covered the surrounding hills as far as the eye could see. To Annabeth, Cunningham felt far from the rest of the world, moving at its own pace and remaining constant year after year.

She wound through the center of campus and arrived at the senior dormitories. While Annabeth parked her car and hopped out, a rush of adrenaline washed through her. She stood facing two of the oldest buildings at Cunningham, which had been built as a part of the original campus in 1926, and evidently so. They were detailed with white stone trimming, grilled windows, and the tiled roof was dotted with chimneys. A single corridor connected the two, forming a courtyard, with decorative rounded pillars. Annabeth had anticipated moving in since her freshman year.

She popped the trunk and began extracting her bags. There wasn’t a terrible amount to lug inside, only her green duffle, a suitcase, and a handful of tote bags filled with miscellaneous items (her tennis equipment, the rackets sticking out at an odd angle, filled one, while another was stuffed to the brim with winter gear).

Annabeth’s mood brightened when she moved a box of shoes and discovered her favorite Yankees baseball hat underneath. She’d spent a portion of the drive worrying that it had somehow been left behind, and was lying forgotten on the curb of New York City or on some long-gone subway. Relieved that it had arrived safe and sound, she placed it on her head before grabbing her suitcase and embarking towards the arched wooden doors of the girls building.

Annabeth stepped inside and was greeted by a dimly lit entry hall. Everything was mahogany; the stairs in front of her, the floor, even the paneling of the walls, and it lent a rich, warm scent to the place. A red carpet covered the hall floor, illuminated by the warm lamps scattered about the room. Cursory glances to Annabeth’s right and left suggested a common room and perhaps a small library, but she decided to leave the exploring for after her belongings were situated.

As her eyes wandered towards the stairs, she noticed a sheet of paper had been pinned to the banister. She approached it, and as her eyes adjusted to the darkness she was able to make out the writing. It detailed whose room was whose, and Annabeth quickly located Chase/McLean, who were to room in 317. Annabeth couldn’t help the smile that spread on her face–her best friend Piper’s incessant lobbying last spring must have worked. 317 was one of the best rooms in the building.

Three flights of steps and a good deal of annoyed cursing later, Annabeth stood catching her breath in front of the door to her new dormitory. One of the downsides of living in such an old building was the lack of an elevator, and though normally this wouldn’t be a problem, it was hugely inconvenient when it meant that Annabeth had to drag all her life’s belongings up the stairs with her.

She pushed the door open and surveyed the room in front of her. 317 was at the end of the third-floor hallway, meaning it was in the upper corner of the building. As such, the room had two windows instead of one, each at a ninety-degree angle. Natural light washed across the wood floor and sparkled on the ancient glass panes. The room was empty save for a pair of beds, dressers, and a small desk for each occupant.

Annabeth approached the bed on the left side of the room and dropped her bags on the mattress. She then carefully pushed the window open and stuck her head out, surveying the view. In front of her, a grassy lawn extended towards a dense forest. Though it wasn’t visible, she could smell the cool breeze coming off of the lake, and the view to the west meant they’d see a beautiful sunset each evening. Yet what really caught her attention was the gutter that ran along the wall next to her window. If she was careful, Annabeth thought she could use it to climb up to the roof. Making a mental note of this promising development, she ducked her head back inside and made for the stairs, bracing herself for the next load of bags still waiting in the trunk of her car.

——————————————

In the end, it only took three trips to transfer everything into the new room, and another hour and a half for Annabeth to make her bed, stack her clothes in the closet, and organize the rest of her belongings. She’d opted to place a few plants on the windowsill, hoping that they would fare better in the direct sunlight, and displayed her favorite books throughout the room in what she thought was a tasteful arrangement. As she stood surveying her handiwork, Annabeth couldn’t help but be pleased with the result–in hardly any time she had claimed the room as her own. Of course, that included the fact that she had rearranged the bunks and desks to not only be more functional but to be more pleasing to look at (seriously, whose idea was it to stick a bed out right across from the entryway?). She hardly thought Piper would notice or care.

Piper McLean had arrived Annabeth’s freshman year, and by that spring the two were inseparable. Piper was fun and spunky, and deceptively energetic. From the outside, she often appeared bored and pensive, but anyone who knew her would tell you she was probably planning to hitch a ride to the gas station later that day and pick up a 12-pack for the bonfire. Piper, despite obviously being underage, never had any issues getting anything from anyone–she had a unique ability to talk people into making a special exception for her every time.

Annabeth pulled out her phone and sent Piper a quick text, letting her know they’d gotten the room she wanted. Above her blue bubble was the last message Piper had sent, explaining she wouldn’t be arriving until the next afternoon. This left Annabeth with the rest of the day to herself, and though she couldn’t wait to see everyone again, Annabeth relished any time she had on her own. Once everyone arrived on campus over the coming days, she knew those moments would be few and far between.

After changing out of her driving clothes into a pair of frayed black jean shorts and a dark green tank top, Annabeth set off to explore her new home. She was relieved to discover that the bathrooms were fine, and a huge step up from the previous year when there had been a black mold problem in one of the showers. As she wandered down the hallways, portraits of previous graduating classes, pictures of athletic achievements, and empty bulletin boards that would soon be covered in fliers decorated the walls, reminding her of the decades of seniors that had claimed this place before her. However, by far the most interesting level was the first floor. Annabeth discovered a common space, filled with cushioned chairs and couches around a fireplace, a game room, complete with ping pong, foosball, pool, and air-hockey tables, and a small library with an iron balcony and shelves that reached the ceiling. Throughout the rooms all manner of school supplies were scattered; there were maps and globes, black pens and pencils, and a box filled with graphing calculators. Satisfied with her findings, Annabeth traced her way back to the entry hall and threw her shoulder against the heavy wooden door, pushing it open.

She blinked in the bright sunlight, momentarily blinded. It was late afternoon, still warm but not uncomfortably so. Annabeth headed towards the lake, pausing here and there to wave at another early student and pick some of the wild blueberries dotting the edge of her path. While she walked, she contemplated the year ahead of her. Piper had already declared that it would be their best year yet, and insisted that seeing as it was their last before heading off on their own they make the most of it. Annabeth didn’t disagree, but she was more inclined to focus on the college applications looming over her head. When she told Piper as much, her friend had rolled her eyes. Piper was sure Annabeth was already a shoo-in for any school she applied to, and while Annabeth appreciated her vote of confidence, she knew it wasn’t true. It frustrated her how randomized acceptances seemed to be, and as a result, she was planning to apply to twice the amount of schools her counselor had recommended.

Annabeth was still mulling over this and brainstorming potential essay topics when the lake came into view. It was smooth, with only a few ripples blowing across the otherwise serene water. The familiar scene made her heart swell, and Annabeth kicked off her sandals before crossing the beach and running down to the end of the doc. When she dipped her feet in the water, it was pleasantly warm from the summer sun, and Annabeth regretted not wearing a bathing suit. She peered down into the water, searching for the sunfish that liked to swim around the doc’s peers, but her splashing must have scared them away.

Annabeth withdrew her feet from the water and stood, walking back to the beach. She headed to her favorite place to sit, a rock off to the right that had the perfect indent to lean against. Before sitting down, she carefully surveyed the area for any spiders. It was a silly fear and one that she couldn’t rationalize, but since her childhood, Annabeth had harbored a particular aversion for spiders. Her twin younger brothers found this fact hilarious, and Annabeth vividly remembered one fall which they had spent begging and pleading with their parents for a pet tarantula for Christmas. Annabeth had had to be coaxed down the stairs on Christmas morning by her father that year, and only appeared after he’d sworn up and down that there were no new pets under the tree.

Satisfied that there were no signs of unwanted insects, she plopped down on the warm sand, her hands finding the unfinished string she’d tied to her water bottle. The next hour was spent contemplating her upcoming classes and cursing her junior self for signing up for AP Physics, all the while tying intricate knots. A while later, when long shadows cast over her spot and the sun had sunk below the treeline, she was left in the sand with a renewed determination for the year ahead, sandy shoes, and a blue and white bracelet patterned with Greek waves.

——————————————

This was definitely Annabeth’s new favorite place. She was on the roof of her dorm, slowly savoring a brownie from dinner she’d brought with her. The roof tiles were warm against her back, still retaining some heat from the afternoon sun, and she lay gazing up at the hazy evening sky. There was a scattering of wispy clouds, and a few bright planets were growing more visible by the minute. The moon hung low, a delicate silver sliver gradually beginning its journey across the night sky. Annabeth tapped her foot against the roof, and zipped up her sweatshirt against the cool evening air. It turned out that the gutter had been the perfect foothold to clamber up, though a bit perilous. Given that Annabeth had spent hours of her childhood climbing trees and balancing on fences, she hadn’t had any trouble.

Distant shouting and laughing suddenly impeded the peaceful silence. Annabeth sat up, surveying the grounds for the source of the noise. Across the courtyard, she found her answer. A large group of boys, what she thought looked to be about 20, were walking towards the boy's dormitory, patting each other on the shoulder and cheering and shouting at each other's jokes. None of them were looking anywhere in her direction, so she stayed where she was.

Annabeth squinted, trying to make out any familiar faces in the group. One boy, walking in the middle of the pack, seemed to be particularly well-loved. He was at the center of a gathering of boys, talking animatedly and cracking up everyone around him. She could tell he was tall, with a mop of messy black hair, but Annabeth couldn’t get a clear look at him. She scanned the other faces, and her eyes landed on a boy towards the front, whose blond hair and bulky shoulders she would recognize from a mile away. Jason Grace wasn’t exactly a friend, but he was the person Piper had been fawning over for a solid year, plenty of time for Annabeth to be able to recognize him. More importantly, she knew he was the captain of the soccer team.

Looking at the crowd of boys, Annabeth began to recognize more people. Yes, this was definitely the varsity soccer team–there was Connor Stoll, and Chris Rodriguez…Annabeth wondered what they were doing here. They must have arrived when she was by the lake, but regardless they brought with them the air that the school year really was beginning.

Annabeth watched as they advanced across the lawn, the black-haired boy leading a race to the door. Within thirty seconds the rest of the team had disappeared inside, and silence once again fell over the campus. Eventually, Annabeth stood, and brushing any crumbs from the brownie she’d filched off her shorts, she began picking her way carefully across the roof back to her window.

Chapter Text

“Hey, that is so not true. I am not preachy. You realize this is all fabricated, right? Annabeth, do you think I’m preachy?”

“Hazel, it totally makes sense! Sagittarius are philosophical and strong-willed, and yeah, preachy. Does that not literally describe you?”

Annabeth shook her head, laughing at her friends as she stirred the last dregs of her cereal milk. She, Piper, and their friend Hazel Levesque were all eating breakfast together. It was only their third day of classes, and Hazel and Piper were arguing over zodiac signs, which Piper had gotten into over the summer.

“You think they would offer a class about this stuff if it wasn’t real?” said Piper, tossing one of her brown braids behind her shoulder and standing up. “I’m off to astronomy. Annabeth, back me up while I’m gone.”

Piper emphasized the last part with a wink and a playful shove to Annabeth’s shoulder before she set off across the dining hall. Once she was out of earshot, Hazel turned to Annabeth, raising her eyebrows.

“She does know there’s a difference between astronomy and astrology, right?”

Annabeth made a face, grimacing. “You know, I’m actually not sure she does.” she smirked. “Hopefully they’ll cover that today.”

Truthfully, Annabeth had been shocked that Piper had voluntarily signed up for an unrequired science class. Last year she’d skipped out on nearly a third of their chemistry classes and sworn up and down for months that she would never study science again, if she had any choice.

“It is what it is, I guess” Hazel said, nodding. “I still think it’s weird they have this class during the day though…”

Annabeth laughed at that. Hazel was what Annabeth imagined people meant when they mentioned old souls. With her love for foreign language and history, she was highly philosophical, and had a sharp and sardonic wit to boot. (And if Annabeth had to admit it, she was just a tad bit preachy when it came to Piper’s unpredictable behavior). Across the table, her gold flecked eyes danced with laughter, and her hands twisted absantly on one of her loose dark curls.

Annabeth glanced at the clock and groaned. She had to be in her environmental science class in five minutes, and began gathering her things.

“I’ve got to get to enviro,” she said gloomily, pushing up from her chair. “I don’t know if I can deal with an hour with Drew, she won’t ever shut up.”

“Maybe you can…throw some mud in her face or something,” Hazel said helpfully. “What do you even do in that class anyway?”

“Something like that” grumbled Annabeth, smoothing her skirt. “I’ll see you at lunch, right?”

Hazel nodded, slinging her backpack over her shoulder, and the two girls split. Annabeth walked out of the dining hall and headed for the quad, where all of the core academic classes were held. It was sunny, one of those days in early fall that made it impossible to remember what the impending cold was like. Annabeth rolled the sleeves of her shirt up her arm.

All the students at Cunningham were required to wear uniforms, and while it didn’t bother Annabeth too much, the first few days were always uncomfortable. The girl's uniform consisted of a black pleated skirt and a button-down blouse, with an option for a sweater, sweater vest, or quarter zip. On special occasions, the formal uniform required the addition of a blazer and sheer black tights. Today Annabeth had worn only a blouse with her skirt, due to the warm weather, and white socks with her uniform shoes. Over the past few days of wear the stiff leather had softened, but in the process, she was left with blisters on her heels.

Annabeth arrived on the quad and set off across the lawn, heading towards the building directly across from her. Once inside, she wound her way down the hallway, trying to locate her classroom. She only had to double back once after a wrong turn, and with a minute to spare she stepped into the room.

It was a fairly standard science classroom, with lab space to her left and a chalkboard in the front. The desks seated two people each, and Annabeth noted the yellow sticky notes stuck in each spot. Assigned seating, she figured. She found her spot at a desk that was still vacant, in the center of the back row, and sat down. At the front of the room, their teacher sat scribbling in a notebook, occasionally surveying the students over the rim of her glasses. She appeared to be middle age, Annabeth guessed somewhere in her fifties, and wore her silver-streaked black hair in a braid. The plaque sitting on her desk read “Dr. S. Barner.”

While she waited for class to start, Annabeth talked to the people sitting around her, exchanging names and answering basic questions about her summer. She knew the boy in front of her, Chris, in passing, but not the blonde girl who sat at the table to her right, whose name she learned was Anna. The three of them were talking about the other classes they were taking when their teacher abruptly stood up from her desk and clapped her hands, quieting the room. The seat next to Annabeth was still vacant.

“Good morning everyone. I’m Dr. Barner, and as I’m sure you all know, I’ll be teaching your environmental science course.” She wrote and underlined her name on the board for emphasis before turning back to face the students. Her voice was firm, and she spoke with an air of confidence only years of teaching could inspire. “A little bit about me. I graduated from Boston University with my undergraduate degree in chemistry, before going on to Georgetown, where I obtained my PhD in molecular biology. I’m married, and I have two dogs and three children who are grown up.” She clapped her hands together briskly and scanned the faces looking back at her. “I think that’s about all you need to know about me. Now, I would like to cover a few of my class expectations…” She launched into an extensive list about classroom etiquette, lab safety, and her homework policy. Just as she began passing out copies of her classroom syllabus, the door flew open.

Annabeth’s head turned with the rest of the classes, and Dr. Barner looked up sharply, a bright pink syllabus frozen halfway to a student's desk. Standing in the door frame was a slightly disheveled boy, his tie hanging undone around his neck and his black hair sticking up haphazardly. Annabeth’s eyes narrowed, he looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t remember where she might have seen him.

At the moment he was frozen like a deer in headlights, but as his eyes flitted to the board and back to their teacher his shoulders relaxed and he stood a bit straighter. Annabeth watched as an earnest, easy smile spread across his face.

“Hi…Dr. Barner,” (he gestured to the board, raising his eyebrows as if he’d just read her name for the first time). “Sorry I’m late, I got a little turned around on my way over...I’m not so familiar with the school yet. I’m Percy—Percy Jackson.”

At this point, he’d advanced a bit into the room, no longer lingering awkwardly in the doorway. Annabeth glanced at Dr. Barner, who didn't appear as upset as Annabeth figured she would be.

“Yes, well, I understand. This school can be hard to navigate…” her tone sharpened. “However, it’s important to give yourself ample time to find classes, especially this first week. You would do well to remember that in the future.” She appraised him down the rim of her glasses. “Mr. Jackson, I believe your seat is there in the back row.”

Dr. Barner gestured towards Annabeth, and with a start, she realized that the empty seat next to her must belong to him. As their teacher got back to the syllabus, the smile on Percy’s face dropped as easily as it had appeared. He arrived at her desk-their desk- and dropped his bag on the floor before settling into his seat, nodding at her once. His eyes were a startling shade of green.

The next ten minutes were spent leafing through the syllabus and were uneventful save a few collective groans at the no test retake policy, and some appreciative nods at her acceptance of late homework. Annabeth was surprised, therefore, when Dr. Barner announced that they would be conducting a lab for the rest of the class.

She passed out another sheet with instructions, explaining “It’s a good way for you all to familiarize yourself with my expectations and to have some hands-on practice before we get to the more complex topics.”

As Annabeth took her instructions, she glanced over at her desk partner. He’d leaned forward onto the table, his head resting on his arms. Both sheets they'd received lay untouched in front of him. This didn’t bother her too much until Dr. Barner announced they’d all be working with their desk partner for the assignment. Well, she’d just have to do most of the work herself for this one, but it wouldn’t be the end of the world. There wasn’t much else going on this week anyway-

“Now, this person will be your lab partner for the rest of the year. Collaborating and learning to work with new people is…”

Annabeth tuned out whatever the rest of Dr. Barner's sentence was, frustration and annoyance taking over. She could already see how the rest of the year would play out as clear as day in her head: she, staying up until the late hours of the night scrambling to complete lab reports and rewriting any of the careless work he’d managed to complete; he, coasting off her work for the full year. The thought made her seethe.

Scrapping chairs and the sound of conversation brought Annabeth back to the present. Dr. Barner was back at her desk, and her classmates were getting started. She turned in her chair and stared at Percy, daring him to look at her. Annoyed by his silence, she was about to poke him when he started speaking.

“Okay, so we need to get three different soil samples…we’ll need a few containers. I say we get some from the garden, the lake, and maybe some from the woods behind our dorms?” He sat up from the table and turned to face her, scrubbing his eyes and running a hand through his determinedly messy hair. “I’m Percy, by the way.”

Annabeth stared at him for a moment too long. Perhaps she’d misjudged him.

“I’m Annabeth…”

“Cool.” he gave her a lopsided grin. “ You thought I was going to be a shitty lab partner, didn’t you?”

Annabeth stared. She hadn’t realized she was being that obvious. “I-well listen, you didn’t exactly look like you were paying any attention-”

“I can't believe you would say that.”

“Well based on the late entrance and face in your arms for the past fifteen minutes...” Annabeth gave him a pointed look.

“Hey, I was fashionably late, for one thing, and I’m an auditory learner anyways, so-”

Annabeth couldn’t help it, she doubled over laughing, her head in her arms.

“Oh, okay, now you’re literally doing the same thing-” but he was laughing too.

Annabeth lifted her head and glared at him, but she couldn’t help thinking that maybe this wouldn’t be quite so bad after all.

——————————————

“Woah, careful!” hissed Annabeth, pulling Percy backward. “We have to make sure nobody's there. I don’t think it’d go over well if they caught us digging up their garden beds.”

Percy looked at her ruefully, but backed up. “Okay, my bad.” He made a face. “I don’t want to be stabbed by a trowel today.”

She and Percy stood next to the science building behind a wooden fence, inside of which Cunningham’s very own community garden was cultivated. It was run by members of the Agriculture and Fair Food Club, all of whom were fiercely protective of their crops. Annabeth knew enough about them to generally steer clear of their garden, lest she be accused of picking all the raspberries. However, in the name of science, she was willing to risk a calculated foray into their territory.

“Annabeth, come look” She turned, and saw Percy crouching down at the gate. He looked up at her and smirked. “I think it’s all clear.”

When he moved, she saw he’d been standing in front of a hole in the fence, which granted a clear view of the rows of squash and cucumber growing inside. She scanned left and right, confirming what Percy had already told her: the place was empty.

She stood up and grinned. “Let’s go get some dirt.”

Percy was already swinging the gate open, and they crept in. As the gate clicked shut behind them, Annabeth set down the three containers she was holding and skimmed the instructions.

Percy wordlessly held a hand up for a celebratory fist bump, his sideways glance full of amusement at their escapade. Only after Annabeth obliged did he withdraw a spade from his pocket and crouch to stare at the soil.

“This seem like a good spot to you?” he asked, surveying the rich dirt they stood on. They were in the corner, in a somewhat inconspicuous spot, and Annabeth reasoned the end of the row seemed as good a spot as any. She nodded, and set one of the jars she’d brought along next to him.

It only took about thirty seconds to get the sample they needed, and after carefully smoothing over the rich soil where they’d dug, the two of them slipped out.

Halfway down the hill, Annabeth paused to pull her blond hair back up in a ponytail. As her fingers twisted a hair tie, she nodded toward the water in the distance. “Should we get a sample from the lake next?”

Percy nodded.“Sounds good to me”

The walk wasn’t long, and they passed it in silence. Percy didn’t seem uncomfortable with the quiet, and Annabeth was glad to discover she didn’t feel stressed about finding something to say. It was unusual for her. As they went, Annabeth stole glances at him now and then, curious what he was like.

He was always doing something. She watched as Percy rolled up his sleeves, spun and tossed the spade again and again in the air, and folded their instructions into an airplane before eventually shoving it in his pocket. These mindless actions didn’t seem nervous, rather they appeared to reflect a liveliness and energy from him that felt endless. It contrasted with the exhausted boy she’d met a quarter-hour before, who’d slumped into his seat as soon as the teacher’s attention was off him.

Annabeth was watching him twist his still-undone tie when he turned and caught her staring. He glanced down and shrugged, dropping his hands.

“It makes me feel like I’m choking,” he explained.

Annabeth nodded, her face a bit pink that he’d caught her staring, but he didn’t seem to have found anything unusual. In front of her, the lake shimmered in the bright sunlight.

“Come on” she called, walking out towards the dock. Annabeth pushed her sleeves up as far as they would go and crouched down by the water. Her plan was to extract the mud on the bottom of the lake, which would be more diverse from their other samples.

Percy sat next to her and offered their spade, but she’d already plunged her hands into the water. The water was up to her elbows and she was balanced precariously over the edge of the doc, but her hands met the silty bottom and she grasped a handful.

“I guess that works too” came Percy’s voice from above her, “but it would be awfully easy for me to push you in right now.”

Annabeth froze. She still didn’t know much about him, and she wouldn’t put it past the average douchebag high school boy. “If you do, I’ll make it my personal mission to ensure you don’t pass this class.”

Percy crouched down next to her, holding out their second container. He was laughing at her, but she stared resolutely into the water and focused on getting their sample.

When she lifted her hands from the water, mud ran down her forearms, but what she grasped was safely deposited into their jar. Annabeth splashed water up and down her arms, rinsing them clean, and then stood. She resisted the urge to dry her hands on her uniform skirt.

Percy piled their two samples and last empty jar in his hands, leaving the spade for Annabeth.

“Forest next?” she asked.

Percy nodded. “I’m thinking the one behind our dorms.”

Together they set off, walking back up the hill and weaving through buildings. As they went, Annabeth puzzled over why he’d seemed familiar.

“How come you were late today?” she asked.

Percy glanced at her ruefully. “Overslept. But I wasn’t completely lying about being lost, that building is confusing.”

Annabeth frowned. “Haven’t you had classes there before?”

“I’m new this year.”

Annabeth stopped walking. That explained why she didn’t remember seeing him around, but then why did she feel like she’d seen him before? They had a big grade, she’d chalked up their unfamiliarity to merely never having shared a class.

Percy stopped too. He ruffled his hair as he spoke. “Why do you look so confused? I know it’s weird to transfer in as a senior, but there were, uh…extenuating circumstances.” He trailed off, uncharacteristically unsure of himself, but Annabeth didn’t dwell on it. She’d just remembered.

“I know why you’re familiar!” she exclaimed. “ I saw you last week moving in, on Friday. You were with the soccer team.” How had it taken her this long to match the energetic boy she’d seen that night with Percy?

He looked even more confused. “How did you know I’m on the soccer team?…coach had us arrive early to practice but campus was empty.”

Annabeth was smiling now, pleased to have finally figured him out. “I got here early too. I-” She glanced up at the dorm buildings, which they were just now passing. “I was on the roof after dinner. I saw you guys all come back.”

“You were where? ”

“The roof.”

Percy stopped walking again and stared at the roof of their dormitory, then at her. An incredulous smile spread across his face. “How’d you get up there?”

Annabeth considered telling him, but she didn’t want to give too much away. The storm drain was her little secret. A smile tugged at her lips. “I have my methods.”

He rolled his eyes, but they narrowed as he analyzed the building again. “I bet I can figure it out.”

“I don’t think you can,” she countered, only half serious.

“Is that a challenge?” he shot back, obviously intrigued.

She rolled her eyes. “Maybe. But you play soccer?”

They started walking again. He kicked the ground as he went.

“Yeah, I’ve been playing since I was six. When I was little, I would always be tearing around my mom’s apartment breaking stuff. She lives in New York City, so I couldn’t exactly just play in the yard…” he laughed at the memory. “ I guess she signed me up for soccer to help tire me out, but it ended up sticking.”

Annabeth nodded. “I grew up in San Francisco. My dad just sent me to boarding school instead.”
Her tone was light, but she saw Percy’s brows knit imperceptibly.

“How long have you been going to boarding school?” he asked.

The conversation was veering towards dangerous territory. Annabeth’s childhood was a sensitive subject, even for her. “Since I was eleven,” she said, before changing to a safer topic. They’d reached the edge of the forest. “How far in should we go?”

Percy stared into the trees. “Not too far, right? I mean, the dirt’s probably the same…”

Annabeth ventured in, holding her spade like a weapon and keeping an eye out for any spiders. She knelt and dug up some dirt without difficulty, depositing it into their last open jar, and the two of them hurried back to the field.

Just as they’d begun making their way back across the lawn, the sound of church bells rang across campus. Annabeth froze.

“Oh no. Oh no no no” she groaned.

“Uh…what does that mean?” Percy asked, looking around.

“They ring the old chapel bell at the end of every class period. I’m supposed to be in English in five minutes.”

Percy nodded, clearly not as concerned with the idea of being late as she was. Nevertheless, he matched her pace as she began borderline jogging back towards the quad. Her backpack was still in the lab.

“So, we still need to write a conclusion. And a hypothesis. And basically our entire process.” he said helpfully, as if Annabeth hadn’t already realized. “When is this due again?”

“Friday,” she said, wondering why it had taken them so long. She was usually quick with labs. Percy was distracting her. “Can we work on it tomorrow? I have a study hall later today, I can test the pH levels then. It shouldn’t take long.”

Percy nodded gratefully. “I have practice until 5:00, but I can meet you in the library after?”

She nodded, and pulled the door to the science building open. Glancing at the clock on the wall, she had three minutes left-just enough time to get upstairs.

They dashed down the hallways and into their classroom, which was empty save for Dr. Barner, who looked up momentarily from her desk before returning to her work with no comment. Percy approached her.

“Dr. Barner, can I leave these here?” He gestured to the window sill, their samples in hand. She nodded, and he carefully set them down. Annabeth returned the spade and grabbed her backpack. As she opened the door, she turned.

“Tomorrow night, the library. See you then?”

Percy smiled, brushing a stray hair out of his eyes. “Yup, I’ll be there.”

Satisfied, Annabeth turned into the hallway. As the door was swinging shut, she caught Dr. Barner's sharp voice from inside her classroom.

“Mr. Jackson, is there a reason you aren’t in uniform? We have one for a reason. I want to see your tie on properly before you leave this room.”

Annabeth smiled to herself and took the stairs two at a time. It had been an interesting morning.

Chapter Text

Annabeth brightened, adjusting the strap of her bag. Emerging from a row of bookshelves, she saw that her favorite spot in the library was unoccupied. It was a small corner carved out of the dark wood paneled wall, underneath one of the colossal windows that stretched toward the ceiling. She’d discovered it the previous spring while studying for final exams. 

Annabeth slid into a cushioned chair and dropped her bag by her feet, making a soft thump on the carpet in the otherwise silent space. The library itself was stunning; with large arching windows, wooden walls and shelves, and levels and levels of books rising up to the vaulted ceiling, it was easy to forget the hectic energy of the outside world. Dust hung in the rays of sun that seeped lazily through the windows, and the air smelled of ink and old books. Annabeth loved it. 

She extracted a notebook from the depths of her bag and flipped to a fresh page, cataloging the pH levels of their soil, which she’d finished testing an hour before. When that was done, she got started copying out their procedure and materials. Just as she began wondering if she maybe shouldn’t admit their foray into the garden, she saw someone swing around the corner and emerge from the shelves in her periphery. 

Annabeth glanced up. It was Percy. His hair was damp, though still unruly, and he wore a green and gold Cunningham sweatshirt with their school insignia. She raised a hand to beckon him over, gesturing to the chair opposite hers.  

“Sorry I’m late,” he said, collapsing in the seat across from her. “Practice went over; Jason wouldn’t let up on the drills.” he rolled his eyes. “I swear, that guy is militant.” 

Annabeth nodded, tucking a foot underneath her. “It’s okay, I just got here anyway.” She didn’t know Jason personally, but Piper had dragged her to a few of their school's games the previous year to admire him. Annabeth vaguely remembered thinking he carried the team. 

While she caught Percy up to speed on her testing results and showed him what she’d written so far for their report, he copied everything down in a completely illegible scrawl. 

She raised her eyebrows. “Can your teachers read that?” 

Percy shrugged. “I mean, if they can’t I usually hope they’ll just give me the benefit of the doubt and assume I wrote something coherent.” 

Annabeth couldn’t tell if he was serious or not. 

They spent the next twenty minutes with little to no issues, carefully detailing their observations, methods, and results. Annabeth was beginning to forget why she’d been worried about the assignment until they got to the conclusion. 

Percy underlined the word ‘conclusion’ and then looked blankly at Annabeth. She rocked back on the wooden legs of her chair, and her eyes found a portrait of an old principal. He looked like the type who would be appalled that a woman was studying in the Cunningham library. As she struggled to remember what their teacher had said about which plants thrive in acidic soil, she heard Percy scribbling something down. 

“What are you writing?” 

The scribbling didn’t stop. “I’m drawing. In your notebook.”

That got Annabeth to refocus on the table in front of her. She snatched her paper out of Percy’s hand and stared at what he had drawn. It was a messy sketch of a woman’s face, her eyebrows pointedly slanted, a grimace on her face and one finger stuck out as if she were scolding someone. 

Annabeth let out an incredulous snort and glanced up at the artist. 

“Is this who I think it is?” She inquired. Percy widened his eyes as if trying to appear innocent. A smile split Annabeth’s face. “I’m supposed to turn this notebook into her, you moron!” she cried, sounding incredulous. 

Percy threw his head back. “She’s already ruining this semester for me and it’s only the first week of school” he whined, tossing an arm over his eyes. 

“It’ll be worse if she sees you’re drawing caricatures of her” Annabeth protested through her laughter. She crushed the paper into a ball and tossed it at him. 

“Whatever, she wouldn’t recognize it anyways” he mumbled, unfolding the sheet and squinting at his drawing. 

“Yeah, her nose is too big. And she never wears her hair in a bun,”  Annabeth offered, her head tilted to the side. 

Percy swatted at her. “As if you could do any better.” 

Annabeth was no artist, but she wasn’t one to back down to a challenge. Consequently, the two of them spent the next fifteen minutes drawing various versions and iterations of their science teacher, and arguing over whose was better. 

Annabeth was in the middle of defending her latest masterpiece, which included their teacher clasping an alligator bag and inside-out umbrella, when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She looked up at Percy, and turned to where his green eyes were focusing on something-or someone-right over her shoulder. 

Annabeth’s eyes landed first on a pair of leather boots, and she pieced together immediately who stood behind her. It was the librarian. 

In all seven years that Annabeth had spent at Cunningham, never once had she been kicked out of the library due to her conduct. In fact, her only prior interactions with the librarian were when she stayed over hours and was forced to leave. This time, Annabeth turned and fought to smother the smile that had been stuck to her face for the past hour. 

The librarian herself was quick and to the point. The two of them were being too loud, she said, and were disrupting the quiet environment that the library maintained. As Annabeth and Percy stood and allowed themselves to be escorted to the door, they received a rundown of the rules and expectations of students utilizing the library, and were reminded to respect their fellow classmates. As the door was held open, they were informed that three penalties would result in detention, before Percy and Annabeth were deposited on the stone steps outside. 

Percy shoved his hands in his pockets and turned to her. There was a beat of silence. 

“You hungry?” He asked, glancing longingly towards the dining hall. “I haven’t eaten yet…” 

Annabeth stared. “I just got kicked out of the library.” 

“Right. But pizza sounds really good to me right now, and there used to be this really good spot just down the street from where I lived in the city-”

“I just got kicked out of the library .” 

Percy refocused on her. “Look, I’m sorry if that was my fault, I didn’t really think…” he trailed off when Annabeth started laughing. 

She punched him in the arm. “You know what, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.” 

Percy rubbed his arm where she’d hit him, pretending to be injured. “Why did that sound familiar?” 

Annabeth rolled her eyes and started walking down the steps. “Whatever. Are you coming? The pizza’s gonna be gone if we stand here all day, unless you want one with pineapple!” 

She heard his footsteps, and he fell into step beside her. When she glanced at him, his eyes held a competitive sparkle.

“Race you there?” he asked, glancing towards the brown building in the distance. The sun had just sunk beneath the treeline, leaving the evening sky a soft, purple hue. 

Annabeth didn’t waste time responding. She took off across the grass.

 ——————————————

Later that night, Annabeth was sitting on the floor of her dorm, her back against her bed. Piper leant over her right hand with a bottle of nail polish. 

“So he’s on the soccer team?” Piper asked, trying and failing to act nonchalant. “Do you think he’s friends with Jason?” 

“I don’t know, I mean he’s brand new. He’s only been on the team for a couple of weeks,” Annabeth said. “Although he did mention Jason once, so maybe they are….?”

Piper gasped and sat straight up, fanning Annabeth’s hand as she did so. “Annie, why didn’t you tell me that first! What did he say?” 

Annabeth looked pointedly at her friend. “That he was militant. And made them all stay longer.” 

“There’s a reason he’s the best on the team,” Piper said serenely, returning to Annnabeth’s nails with a clear topcoat. “Now that you’re friends with Percy, I actually have an excuse to talk to him. We need to hang out, you should ask-” 

“Woah woah woah, slow down,” Annabeth laughed. “I mean, I had fun with Percy today but he might just be the type that makes friends with everyone. Besides, I don’t want to use him for your benefit, Piper, that’s weird.” 

Her friend only seemed to have caught the first half of what she’d said. “Oh you had fun with him, did you?” Piper sign-songed, batting her eyelashes at Annabeth. 

“Oh my god, not like that-” Annabeth squealed, attempting to withdraw her hand. 

“No no no, be careful of your nails, I worked really hard on those!-” Piper gasped, snatching her wrist. “Besides, you’re the one who said he was cute, I didn’t force you to say anything.” 

“God, Piper, I was being objective!” Annabeth exclaimed, feeling suddenly defensive. “Plenty of people are good-looking, I can recognize that, it doesn’t mean anything, really.” She pointedly ignored the eyebrow Piper raised at her. “We’re just friends.” 

“Okay fine,” Piper said, though Annabeth suspected her friend wasn’t completely letting it go. “Do you like your new nails?” 

Annabeth inspected her hands. Piper had painted them a dark maroon color, which she’d claimed was perfect for fall. “I love them. Thank you, Piper,” she said, though secretly she knew within a day they would be smudged and chipped. 

“Oh, and I almost forgot! I have something for you,” Annabeth exclaimed, hopping up. She rummaged through her desk drawer, and extracted the bracelet she’d made the day she arrived. Piper took it from Annabeth’s outstretched hand. 

“It’s beautiful” she breathed, adding it to the stack of bracelets that already adorned her wrist. Before Annabeth could stop her, Piper pulled her into a hug. Annabeth stiffened initially, before tentatively hugging her friend back. 

“I’m so glad we’re friends,” Piper said, before pulling away and swinging Annabeth’s hands between them. “This is going to be our best year yet.”

Chapter Text

The second week of the term passed quickly, and Annabeth felt herself falling back into the familiar rhythm of life at Cunningham. Though she had to drag Piper out of bed, the two of them usually made it to their Latin class each morning on time, which they had together. She, Hazel, and Piper also familiarized themselves with the common rooms in their dormitory, and had taken to staking out three soft armchairs near the fireplace each evening. Annabeth frequently found herself helping Piper and Hazel with their homework on these occasions, though she always refused to do the work for them (“How will you learn?”). After an hour Piper often dragged Annabeth away to the game room to play air hockey, while Hazel hung back and continued studying. 

It was on one of these nights that Annabeth met Leo Valdez. It had been a Thursday, and in the midst of a ferocious game of air hockey with Piper, their puck had failed to resurface from inside the table. Annabeth frowned, crouching by the box where it should’ve been sitting.  

Piper groaned. “I was just about to start having a comeback,” she complained, leaning against the table. 

“Yeah, right” Annabeth scoffed, but she only half heard what Piper said. Instead, her eyes had landed on a set of screws that formed a square. “Do you have a pin or anything I can use to unscrew these?” 

Piper nodded and fiddled with her hair before holding a bobby pin out to Annabeth. “This work?” 

“Perfect,” she said, unbending it into one long piece of wire. “Now I just need to–” 

She was interrupted by a tan hand plucking the pin right out of her fingers. 

“Hey!” Her skin prickled with annoyance. “What are you-I was using that, give it back.” 

Her words were accompanied by a swipe at the culprit. He was tall and lanky, with curly brown hair and tan skin. He wore a pair of brown cargo pants with countless pockets, one of which now held Piper’s pin, and a plain white T-shirt. 

Now, his hands were raised in surrender. “Easy, just trying to help you out. Finicky table, right?” 

His voice was warm, and laced with laughter. 

“Yeah, I know,” Annabeth said, looking at him pointedly. “And I was just trying to fix it before you interrupted-”

She jumped at the sound of a loud thump. The boy had slammed his hand into the side of the table just above the screws, and reached down towards the tray, which now held the red puck. With only a hint of smugness, he flipped it towards Annabeth.  

“It’s got some quirks, but when you spend a month reconstructing this damn thing, you get to know it pretty well,” he said, shrugging at Annabeth’s surprised stare. “I found it on the side of the road;  someone thought it was useless. I guess you could say it took a certain creative genius to cobble the thing back together, but nothing I couldn’t handle.” He rubbed his hands together absently. “I’d accept a thank you in the form of a worthy opponent!” 

Piper began pushing her sleeves up. “Look, I’d be more than happy to do that, but first I have to finish her off.” she jerked a thumb in Annabeth's direction. “If you’d just give me...” 

Piper’s voice trailed off as her eyes focused on the space behind Annabeth. She registered a flicker of pointed curiosity, and before Annabeth could react, a familiar voice sounded from behind her. 

“Annabeth?” 

Still crouching next to the table, Annabeth turned around and found Percy standing in front of her. He seemed surprised to see her, but his face split into a smile as he took in the scene. 

“Look, if you broke Leo’s table, you might not make it out of here alive….” 

Annabeth laughed, and glanced at the curly-haired boy as she let his name register. Leo. She felt sure she’d heard it before, but couldn’t have recalled his face. She turned back to Percy, who offered an outstretched hand. As Annabeth pulled herself to her feet, she nodded towards the table. “Yeah, hi…honestly I don’t know if we broke it so much as the table was already broken.” 

“I heard that,” Leo muttered from behind her. “It is not broken” 

“Whatever, man. Can you give me that puck?” 

Piper was taking another swipe at Leo’s hand. He danced out of reach, but Piper followed, eventually wrestling it out of his grip.

“Finally, oh my god. Come on, Annabeth, get over here.” She tossed the puck on the table, but before Annabeth had time to move, Leo snatched up the other mallet and took a shot that sailed right into the goal. 

Piper visibly bristled. “Annabeth?” Her voice was low but lethal as she summoned her friend to her side. “I think we’re going to have to team up for this one.” 

As she joined Piper, Leo pulled a face. 

“Alright, this isn’t fair. Jackson, get your ass over here, I’m gonna need backup—” his voice rose in pitch as he deflected a hard hit shot from Annabeth. “Quickly, please!” 

Percy snatched up a mallet and slung an arm over Leo’s shoulder. “No problem. We’ll clear them.” 

Annabeth glanced sideways at Piper and grinned. This was going to be fun. 

And so started what would be a two-hour streak of competition, which included every team and individual pairing they could’ve made. Percy was surprisingly good, and his matches with Annabeth attracted a few bystanders. 

Annabeth was shocked when he beat her the first time. The second time she was angry, but by their third game she got the upper hand. And when the two of them teamed up against Piper and Leo, they won every time. 

After Percy and Annabeth had claimed their third collective victory, they’d almost perfected a handshake.

“Right, left, right, no, top first—” Annabeth tried to instruct Percy through her laughter. 

“Dammit, I really thought I got it down” he said, running a hand through his hair. “Okay, okay, let me try one more time.” 

He stuck his hands out and cheered when they got through the intricacies without accidentally hitting each other’s arms. 

Across the table, Piper and Leo were jokingly arguing over whose fault it was that they’d failed to block Percy’s winning shot. 

As Annabeth watched them, her eyes fell on the clock behind the wall. It was well past midnight. Her eyes widened. She poked Percy’s arm and pointed at the time. 

“Did you realize how late it was?” 

Percy sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Hey Leo? I need to be up in…five hours.” 

Leo’s head snapped up. “Why not just skip your morning practice for once, man? Those are just evil.” 

“Are you serious? Jason would personally drag me down there.” 

“Jason Grace, right? Is he any good?” 

Piper's voice was nonchalant, but Annabeth made a face at her anyway. 

Percy turned to her. “Is he good? He’s probably going to have every school east of Chicago trying to recruit him this fall…the guy is a machine.” 

Piper nodded. “Are you friends?” 

Annabeth nearly failed to keep in a cackle at Piper's line of questioning. 

“We get on famously,” Leo said brightly. “I mean, I  shower him with compliments every game, no matter how much I try not to. The guy scores like fifty percent of our goals every game…” he glanced at Percy. “At least he did last year.” 

Suddenly, Annabeth realized why she recognized Leo’s name. “Wait, you do the commentary for all the soccer games, right?” 

Leo nodded. 

“See, I knew I recognized you from somewhere!” She exclaimed. “Piper and I went to a few games last year…” 

“Yeah, and we wanted to go to more this year. Right, Annabeth?” Piper smiled brightly at her friend, who took the cue and slowly nodded her head. 

“Yeah, we talked about that…”

Percy nodded thoughtfully. “We have our first game this weekend. You guys should come.” 

Piper was practically bouncing on the balls of her feet, but her voice managed to stay relatively level as she asked when they were playing. 

“Saturday at four,” answered Percy. 

“And it’s against that all-boys school, Saint Thomas. A bunch of bozos, if you ask me,” Leo supplied. “Percy, I swear to god you better win. I refuse to say anything nice about them.” 

Percy laughed half-heartedly. “I know man, I’ll try. But go easy on me, alright? It’s my first game here. Honestly, they might not even play me, who knows what the plan is–”

Leo punched him in the shoulder. “Come on dude, not this again. You’re the best player on that team, and you know it. You honestly probably would’ve schooled them all as an eighth grader.” 

Annabeth’s eyebrows creased. “Eighth grade? How long have you guys known each other?” 

“Oh, we grew up together in the city,” Leo answered. “Went to the same school and everything until eighth grade, and then I got shipped out here. ‘Behavioral issues’ and whatnot, but really I blame him–” 

Percy straightened indignantly. “Woah, I can’t believe you’re still trying to blame that on me; that was your fault and you know it.” 

Piper raised an eyebrow. “What happened?” 

“This smart guy practically blew up our entire science lab.” 

“Percy, that is so not a fair statement. For one it was fire, not an explosion, and I just turned away from the bunsen burner for two seconds, which you were supposed to be watching, by the way–” Leo was waving his hands wildly, but Percy had doubled over laughing. 

Leo looked up at Annabeth and Piper. “Well, we’re finally reunited after he got himself sent out here, too, and I say,” (he took a breath and turned his attention back to Percy) “It’s a good thing you managed to find a lab partner like Annabeth because lord knows you don’t know how to handle yourself in a science lab–” Percy interrupted Leo by slinging an arm around his shoulder and pulling him down. They devolved into a sort of wrestling match until Percy finally pushed Leo off him. 

“Listen, I think it might be time to call it a night before Leo decides to kill me again.” That earned him another push, but Percy ignored it. “He can get aggressive and I don’t want any major injuries before our game this weekend.” He paused. “So you guys are coming?” 

Piper beamed. “Well, it seems like we got invited by the star player, so how could we not?” 

Annabeth shifted uncomfortably at that, and maybe it was a trick of the light, but she thought Percy’s cheeks were a little brighter. 

Leo clapped his hands together, and began backing towards the hallway leading to the boy's dormitory. “Excellent. I’ll keep an eye out for you from my booth!” 

Percy moved to follow Leo, but turned towards Annabeth before he left. 

“And good game tonight. I’m glad you lost your puck, we wouldn’t have found out what a good team we make otherwise.” 

Annabeth laughed, and held up her hands to run through their handshake one more time. Then she crossed her arms. “Hey–don’t get too comfortable, you’re still my competition. I’m beating you more next time.” 

Percy smiled and nodded, before turning and following Leo back to the boys' wing. 

Annabeth turned back to Piper and noticed that the room had practically emptied out. Piper clamped a hand over her mouth and widened her eyes at Annabeth. 

“Annabeth…I can’t even believe how well that just went! You need to help me pick out an outfit for this game on Saturday–I’m going to meet Jason if it’s the last thing I do.” 

Annabeth laughed and hooked an arm around her friend's elbow. “Okay,” she said, grinning. And then, “I totally beat you every single time.” 

“Oh, well, forgive me if I was busy securing our plans for Saturday!” 

“You know that you don’t need an invitation to go to those games, right?” 

“Shut up.”

Chapter Text

On Saturday, nearly the entire senior class seemed to have filled the stands around the soccer field. Everyone was clad in the school colors, creating a sea of dark green and gold, and a few people had even made signs and banners.

Annabeth, Hazel, and Piper climbed up to the top row of the bleachers. The day was cloudy and overcast, and a strong breeze blew Annnaeth’s hair across her face. As she tugged it up into a ponytail, Leo’s voice echoed over the stands announcing the captains of each team, who met in the center of the pitch for a coin toss. The visiting team, Saint Thomas Academy, won, and chose to start on the right end of the field. Annabeth watched as they walked to their side, a sea of light blue jerseys all with the same short military haircut.

“That school is a cult,” Piper muttered, after Annabeth pointed out as much.

“I knew someone who went there,” Hazel remarked. “He was really strange. Smart, but really strange.”

Annabeth mulled this over. “Are they any good at sports?”

“They’re okay,” she replied. “Not known for anything in particular. Football, maybe.”

Piper sighed. “I wish we had a football team.”

“Why?” Annabeth asked, raising an eyebrow. “It wouldn’t make any difference to you, it’s not like you could play.”

Piper folded her arms. “I don’t know, I guess because it’s such a quintessential high school thing. Don’t you feel like we’re missing out?”

“No,” she and Hazel responded in unison. Annabeth made a face. “Is this your way of telling us you want to be a cheerleader?”

“We have a cheerleading team already, dummy. News flash, I’m not trying to join that freakish cult of a sport—”

Annabeth laughed, and in a singsong voice said “you’re sounding awfully defensive for someone who doesn’t want to join—hey!”

While Piper was busy punching Annabeth in the arm, a sharp whistle sounded, and the players began weaving around each other on the field. Cunningham initially gained possession, and Annabeth recognized Percy dancing through a sea of blue players before he was sent sprawling forward a second later by a poorly timed tackle from the defense. Leo’s outraged voice cut over the crowd, demanding a yellow card, but a moment later play resumed with nothing more than a warning.

“And it’s O’Brien with the ball now, he’s passed it to Wagner, back across to O’Brien—oh, little bobble there, go on, just push him, I’m only kidding—and it’s a long pass now down to Jackson, who’s waiting with nobody near him, could this be the opportunity Cunningham needs? He's looking for help, and I see Grace in the middle, looks like he wants the ball— and he’s going to get it, a perfect cross from Jackson, THIS COULD BE IT—”

As Leo’s voice grew more and more excited, students rose from their seats, craning to get the best possible view of the field. On her feet as well, Annabeth watched as the ball soared into the fray, headed directly for Jason. He jumped, trying to trap the ball, but kicked it too far in front of himself, and in the following scramble, Saint Thomas won possession.

A collective sigh went up from the stands, and Leo’s voice sounded considerably more dejected as he reported on Saint Thomas’s progress down the other end of the pitch.

The rest of the game passed with a series of similar plays. More times than Annabeth could count, either Percy or Smith, who played the left wing, ran the ball down the field, but neither seemed to be able to convert these moments into goals. At the half, she watched the team huddle around their coach, who appeared to be yelling.

“I think he’s singling out Jason,” Hazel muttered, as the three of them walked back to their seats with some newly acquired snacks.

“I would too, he hasn’t been converting any of the opportunities Percy keeps giving him. Or the Smith guy,” Annabeth murmered. “Hey, can you open this?”

“I don’t think he played center forward until this year,” Piper said, taking Annabeth's drink from her and twisting it open. “Maybe that’s why.”

Back in the stands, Annabeth sipped on her water and wondered how much of a difference position made. Shouldn’t the best players be able to play more than just one well?

As the clock neared the ninetieth minute, the crowd grew even more restless. Annabeth swiped at a fly that was hovering around her hairline. Piper shrugged off her green bomber jacket, which she’d decorated herself with school insignias. Only Hazel appeared unfazed, as if she’d only taken a seat a minute ago.

Finally, in the eighty-eighth minute, what the crowd had been patiently watching and waiting for happened at last. Smith, with a last spurt of energy, took off down the left field with the ball, rocketing past the midfield defenders. Jason was farther back and out of position, leaving only Percy to follow his teammate towards the line of defenders in front of the goal. The pair drew nearer and nearer to the goal, and after a handful of one touch passes back and forth, faster than Annabeth had time to process, Percy aimed a shot towards the lower left corner.

A millisecond later the net rippled, signifying that the ball had found its mark, and the stands erupted in cheers. Annabeth found herself shouting and jumping with the rest, and on the field, the team streamed into the corner to celebrate.

Through the loudspeaker, Leo sounded fanatical.

“AND HE’S DONE IT, CUNNINGHAM TAKES THE LEAD IN THE EIGHTY EIGHTH MINUTE AFTER PERC—I MEAN, JACKSON PUT IT AWAY IN THE LOWER CORNER, A NEW PLAYER THIS YEAR BUT BOY ARE WE SURE LUCKY TO HAVE HIM—”

Looking up at the box, Annabeth could see Leo dancing around, shouting into a speaker that looked at least forty years old. She wouldn’t be surprised if he had reconstructed it himself. But back on the field, the players didn’t seem to be paying much attention to what he was saying. Play had already resumed, with four minutes of stoppage time posted. Much to the apparent frustration of Saint Thomas, Cunningham played a game of keep away as they ran the clock all the way down, hanging back and passing the ball between them. Finally, a long whistle signaled the end of the game, and both teams lined up to shake hands.

Up at the top of the bleachers, Annabeth, Piper, and Hazel all high fived each other as if the win were a personal victory on their part. Piper threw her arms over both of the other girls’ shoulders, declaring the win cause for a celebration.

Annabeth nodded, disentangling herself from Piper’s embrace as quickly as possible. “I’m sure there will be a party for you somewhere, Pipes.”

Yet when Annabeth turned to face her friend, she found Hazel staring at her instead, eyes widened with a look that Annabeth thought was either warning or panic.

Hazel nodded imperceptibly, and Annabeth tracked down what she was looking at. Down on the field, Jason was heading back up to the school grounds. This wasn’t unusual; it was expected, really, except for the fact that there was someone else with him.

She was tall, her long brown hair pulled up into a ponytail and adorned with a delicate braid. She wore a pair of track pants accompanied by a green cami tank top, and adidas shoes. And despite the distance, Annabeth could see that her hand was very clearly clasped in Jason’s.

Hazel certainly was panicking, and Annabeth felt the telltale sinking of her stomach. Piper, on the other hand, seemed to notice that her friends were staring in the same direction, and turned to see what they were looking at. Annabeth was almost tempted to grab her arm and turn her right back around, but there was nothing else for it.

It was clear the moment Piper’s eyes landed on this seemingly innocent scene. She pulled her shoulders back, standing taller, as her eyes flashed back and forth between her friend's faces and their receding silhouettes.

“He’s with someone?”

Annabeth hesitated for just a second, before giving in.

“I think that was Reyna…she lived in my hall our freshman year. They’ve been friends since, well, forever.”

Hazel looked at Piper sympathetically. “People have joked about them being together for ages…I guess it finally happened.”
Piper nodded, absorbing this information.

“Let's go back up.”

Annabeth and Hazel agreed, both eager to do whatever Piper requested. From Annabeth’s point of view, Piper was handling the revelation incredibly well in comparison to what she’d anticipated. As Hazel took Piper’s arm and began leading her off the bleachers, Annabeth only hoped that she would stay level headed.

--------------------------------------------

As it turned out, Annabeth had severely underestimated Piper. What was originally interpreted as a relatively calm response to Jason’s apparent relationship had in fact only been shock, and now, as Piper lay buried amongst the pillows on her bed with Hazel and Annabeth around her, it was clear that her reaction was anything but.

“This is so embarrassing, he doesn’t even know who I am,” Piper mumbled, rubbing a hand over her eyes, which were red and irritated by constant tears over the past hour and a half. “I’ve just been admiring him from a distance for two years like some freak stalker.”

Hazel rubbed Piper’s shoulder comfortingly. Annabeth, who was less sure of herself when it came to emotional comfort and even worse pertaining to the physical kind, opted for handing her her ice water.

“It’s not stupid, Pipes,” Hazel said soothingly. “You can still be attached. You’re allowed to feel bad, even if you were never together.”

Piper took a sip of her water. “I should have tried to talk to him more last year,” she said miserably. “Why didn’t I?”

Annabeth didn’t have anything to say to that. In fact, she’d been fairly confident most of last year that Reyna had been crushing on Jason, but now was not the time to bring that up. Instead, given that Piper had been mourning for practically two hours, she attempted to lighten the mood.

“I don’t know, he probably smells really bad anyways, Piper. I mean come on, he’s a teenage boy, and an athlete…”

Hazel laughed. “I bet he only brushes his teeth once a day.”

Piper cracked a small smile. Emboldened by this, Annabeth added, “He definitely has those navy blue sheets boys get so they never have to clean them.”

“Oh my god, stop,” Piper mumbled, but a real smile had split her face. “You guys are the worst.”

Annabeth squeezed Piper’s arm. “I know, I’m sorry. But Piper?” Her tone grew more serious. “Do not let this ruin senior year. If you spin out over someone you never dated, I might lose my mind.”

Piper rolled her eyes, but the corners of her mouth tugged up. “Yeah, yeah, I got it. Not too much moping around.”

“But we can still do a romcom marathon,” Hazel amended quickly, obviously worried that Ananbeth’s harsh and direct approach would do more harm than good. “With all your favorite snacks!”
Piper perked up at that, and Annabeth caught on.

“Ohhh, can we watch How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days first?” she pleaded, looking between Hazel and Piper.

Hazel rolled her eyes. “No, we have to let her pick the first one, you dummy.”

Piper crossed her arms indignantly. “Yeah, Annabeth, I get to pick the first one.” Her voice rose as Annabeth began to protest. “And I don’t care what you say, it’s gonna be LaLa Land.”

Annabeth balked. “Piper, that one is actually devastating, are you trying to feel worse?”

Piper sniffed haughtily. “It’s about the right person, wrong time. Clearly you need to watch it again.”

Annabeth fought not to roll her eyes, but stood up to grab the remote.

“Whatever,” she sighed.

--------------------------------------------

By dinner time, they had worked through not one, not two, but three movies. After LaLa Land, Piper chose the Hannah Montana movie (a much more appropriate choice, according to Annabeth), and then finally, Crazy Stupid Love (Piper wanted to see Emma Stone and Ryan Gosling have a happy ending). By the time the credits were rolling, Annabeth was itching to get up and move around.

She sat up, disentangling herself from the fuzzy blanket they were sharing and swung her legs onto the hardwood floor.

“I’m going to grab some dinner. Do either of you want to come?”

Hazel and Piper thought for a moment.

“I’m not moving,” Piper concluded, sinking further into the pillows. She looked towards Hazel. “Are you?”

Hazel glanced at Annabeth. “‘Beth, I’m really tired, I think I’m just going to go to bed. Sorry to abandon you,” you added apologetically, before nodding pointedly towards Piper.

In response, Piper happily grabbed Hazel’s arm. “You should stay here! Let's have a sleepover. Please?”

As Hazel agreed, patting her shoulder patiently, Annabeth slipped outside into the hallway. Though she wanted to be there for her friend, she needed time by herself. Hazel was three times as patient as she was and could put up with Piper’s dramatics for much longer than Annabeth ever could, and it was moments like these that reminded her how lucky she was to have a friend like Hazel.

Dusk was falling as Annabeth meandered across the grass to the dining hall, casting the buildings in a serene, melancholy light. The lawn had just been cut, and Annabeth found the sweet smell comforting.

Soon, she had reached the wooden doors to the old building, and slipped inside. The students still eating were scarce, with only a few hovering in the lines or perched at empty tables, trying to catch a quick bite before the hall closed for the evening. Annabeth passed through their midst in a quarter hour, eating quickly before discarding her tray and stepping back outside.

She crossed back across the lawn more swiftly than she had on the way over, and skirted up the stairs to her room once she was back inside the dormitory. Carefully opening the door to her room, she found both of her friends asleep, curled under the blankets and breathing heavily.

Silently, she crept across the wooden floor towards the window, slipping it open before carefully sliding out. It took her less than a minute to scale the wall, after which the slanted roof welcomed her, just as it always did, warm from the day's sun and perfectly, blissfully deserted.

Settling down on the tiles, Annabeth wondered how many other girls had passed through Cunningham and discovered her secret spot. It seemed unlikely that she was the first. Time seemed to slow and warp as she lay watching the sun sink lower behind the treeline, her mind swirling with thoughts of Piper, Mia and Sebastian, and the latin translation she had to complete by Monday. She wondered why the school had chosen to teach an ancient language when something like Spanish or French would be much more useful, but after mulling it over decided that she preferred Latin anyway. If her dad ever managed to travel to Greece, as he was always dreaming about, she figured it might be helpful there. If he even remembered to bring her. Or cared. Although certainly the twins would be invited–

“I told you I’d find a way up here.”

Annabeth nearly slid off the roof. Her feet frantically scrabbled as she was jolted from her thoughts, and the adrenaline rushing through her body was almost painful. Frantically she twisted, searching behind her for an intruder.

In the darkness, Annabeth could just make out his silhouette. He stood with one hand in his pocket, the other hanging loosely by his side, and his hair stood up against the inky blue of the nearly black sky.

“Percy?”

He laughed before answering, already confirmation enough. “Sorry I scared you. Can I sit?”

Annabeth nodded silently, her shock still wearing off. He took a seat next to her and leaned back on his hands.

“Did you climb through my window?” Annabeth blurted out. A moment later she grew acutely aware of the ridiculousness of her question, but it was too late to take it back. Percy turned and looked at her.

“Your window, huh? Careful, I think you just revealed your secret.” His eyes crinkled with amusement as he spoke.

Annabeth blew out a shaky breath and laughed, her shock finally dissipating. “Yeah, well, will you tell me how you got up then?”

Percy narrowed his eyes at her, and she stared right back.

“Why should I?”

Annabeth shrugged, turning back towards the view of the school grounds in front of her. A moment of silence passed between them before Percy spoke again.

“There’s a trellis thing up the side of our wall, where that garden spot is; you know. I climbed up that, and then came over here on the hallway roof.”

“Hmm.” His voice had been casual, but Annabeth knew he told her because he was proud of himself. “Are you going to keep crashing my time up here, then?” she asked.

Percy’s gaze didn’t stray from her eyes. “Would you mind if I did?”

Despite his friendly tone, Annabeth suddenly found herself squirming under his direct gaze. She tilted her head up at the night sky instead, mulling over an answer.

“I guess not.”

“Cool.”

Cool. So cool. Annabeth was surprised that she had so easily given him access to the one part of her day she had to herself, but then again, he was easy to be around.

Annabeth drew her legs toward herself, and leaned back on her hands. “I saw your game today,” she said.

Percy’s frown was almost undetectable in the dark. “Oh yeah? What did you think?”

Annabeth decided to be frank.“I think you saved our asses. It would’ve been kind of humiliating to not beat them.”

Percy laughed at that, flopping onto his back. “Yeah, I’m glad Smith gave me that ball. Don’t know why it took eighty eight minutes, though.”

Annabeth nodded in agreement.

“By the way, I’m surprised you aren’t busy tonight. You know, with celebrations and everything,” she ventured.

“Yeah, I wasn’t really feeling it tonight,” he answered simply. “I kind of snuck away to get up here.”

Annabeth gasped theatrically. “Aw, how sweet of you!” she said, pushing his shoulder and laughing.

Percy shoved her right back.

As their laughter faded, they returned to a comfortable silence.

“If it makes you feel any better, I escaped up here too,” Annabeth said abruptly. “I kind of abandoned my friend in a time of need.”

“Oh? How so?” Percy asked.

Annabeth wondered how best to describe Piper’s situation.

“My friend…she learned today that the boy she’s liked for years is with someone else. And she spiraled.”

“I see. And why did you abandon her?”

“Six hours of romcoms was my limit,” Annabeth said delicately.

That cracked Percy up.

“You know what,” he muttered. “I think your escape was justified. I…”

He trailed off, overcome by another fit of laughter.

Annabeth found herself laughing with him, and brought her hands to her face.

“I’m a terrible friend,” she managed, swiping at her watering eyes.

“Nah” Percy replied, exhaling and folding his arms behind his head. “I guess you’re just not much of a romantic.”

Annabeth smiled, mirroring his position.

“No,” she sighed, “ I guess I’m not.”

They stayed like that for a while longer, admiring the night in silence. Occasionally, one of them shared a thought that crossed their mind, or one of them would start laughing, and infect the other. When they finally said goodnight, and crept back to their respective rooms, all the lit windows on campus had winked out.

Chapter Text

Annabeth was beginning to feel seriously irritated. Her arms ached, she was boiling hot, and they were supposed to be leaving in ten minutes, despite the three sections of her hair that weren’t straight yet. 

Annabeth let out a frustrated breath, setting the blow dryer she’d been using for the last half hour on her desk. Her reflection stared back at her from the mirror, half her hair falling in soft waves and the rest a mop of damp curls. Behind her, footsteps signaled someone else had entered the room, and a moment later Piper appeared in the mirror beside her. 

“Want me to do the rest?” she offered, smiling sympathetically at Annabeth.

Hope bloomed in Annabeth’s chest. “Seriously?” 

Piper nodded, already spraying heat protectant into her hands before working it through the still-curly sections of Annabeth’s hair. “I’m all ready to leave, it’s no problem.” 

As Piper turned on the dryer and began working, Annabeth observed her in the mirror. She was wearing a short cargo skirt, a scoop-necked tank top, and had added intricate braids to her brown hair. Annabeth couldn’t see her shoes, but she was willing to bet they were Piper’s favorite pair of black boots. 

It was a Saturday night in late September, and Annabeth and Piper were preparing for the first house party of the year. These were few and far between, and therefore highly coveted by the students of Cunningham. Though the majority of the student body were full-time borders, a handful commuted from the neighboring town. 

Over the course of the week, anticipation had been building after Summer Weaver had announced her parents would be gone for the weekend, and invited everyone over. Though it was supposed to be contained to only the Cunningham senior class, news of an unsupervised party traveled like wildfire through a small town, and as such, everyone was anticipating students from the local school to turn up as well. 

As Piper arranged Annabeth’s hair around her face in artful swoops, she inspected her own appearance. Her maroon tank top crisscrossed across her chest, cutting off just above her belly button, and she’d paired it with a black miniskirt. She’d kept her makeup natural, aiming to subtly accentuate her features, and fended off Piper’s many attempts to add eyeliner to her look. 

“All done!’ Piper announced, proudly tapping Annabeth on the head. “Now let's get going before it gets too late, I don’t want to miss all the fun.” 

Annabeth nodded, rising from her chair. “Thank you so much,” she said, turning to examine the back of her hair. “Seriously, you have a magic touch.” 

Piper beamed. “I like to say hair is one of my special talents. You’re lucky I’m not charging!’

Annabeth rolled her eyes as she slipped on her shoes, and then followed Piper down the stairs and outside their building, where Hazel sat waiting in the driver's seat of her car. 

“There you guys are! It’s about time,” she crowed, unlocking the doors as they approached. “I was about to come in and find you.” 

“I know, I was mad at my hair,” Annabeth muttered as she hopped into the back seat. “Piper finished it for me, though.” 

Hazel appraised Annabeth in the rearview mirror. 

“You know if you just left it curly….” 

Annabeth fought not to roll her eyes. “Yeah, then I would’ve had to hold a diffuser for an hour, which is arguably just as bad.” 

Hazel made a sound that was irritatingly close to a tsk, and shifted the car into gear. 

Annabeth watched the countryside fly by as they drove, annoyed by Hazel’s comment. She hated feeling judged for her hair. Annabeth didn’t have anything against her curls, they were simply hard to manage and required a lot of time and attention she didn’t usually have. 

Soon, the countryside outside the car morphed into small neighborhoods and quaint stores, and as they approached the address, it was obvious which house belonged to Summer. Cars lined the streets, colored lights flooded the hazy lawn, and the steady thrum of a bass emanated from her white, wood-paneled house. A steady stream of people milled around the lawn, some leaving, some arriving, and many simply enjoying the fresh air outside. 

Hazel parked a few blocks away, and she, Annabeth, and Piper set off down the block. 

“Thanks again for driving us, Hazel,” said Piper. “I owe you one.” 

Hazel smiled at her. “Someone’s got to make sure you get home safe. It’s not like I’m tempted, anyways.” 

Annabeth echoed Piper’s gratitude. Since they’d turned sixteen, Hazel had unofficially become the trio's designated driver. Though she had no interest in partying, Hazel’s fierce instinct to protect her friends always led her to follow Annabeth and Piper to parties that she deemed a ‘hazard,’ such as this one. 

As they crossed the lawn, Hazel grabbed them both by the wrist. “Just text me when you’re ready, ok? We can meet out here.” Her eyes flashed between the two of them as she spoke, but she was particularly focused on Piper when she finished, “and don’t do anything too stupid.”

Piper saluted her, but not without a wink, and moments later grabbed Annabeth by the arm and skipped up the steps through the front door. 

As they stepped over the threshold, the volume increased tenfold. Annabeth’s eardrums rang as her ears adjusted to the sound. 

They were in an entry hall of sorts, with stairs on their right ascending to an upper level. Piper pulled Annabeth towards the door on their left, leading to a room that appeared to be the source of the music. Through the spinning colored lights, Annabeth saw that most of the occupants were playing a variety of drinking games, while a few others were dancing. 

Piper dove into the crowd, with Annabeth in tow, and beelined for the far end of the room. The noise dropped a few levels as they entered a kitchen, which Annabeth imagined usually was sparklingly white, but at the present moment had been ransacked. Alcohol bottles littered the counter, and many of the drawers and cupboards were left half open. A pantry in the corner was in particularly bad shape. 

Annabeth hopped up on the island, eyeing the handful of people milling around the kitchen. Most were unfamiliar. 

A clatter next to her turned her head, and she saw Piper had procured one of the many bottles lying around. She rolled her eyes at the amount Piper poured into a pair of red cups but swallowed it anyway when she handed it over. 

Piper followed suit, wincing as she did so. 

“How do you do that?” her friend grumbled, shaking her head. “I’ve hardly ever seen you flinch.” 

Annabeth shrugged, unsure how to respond. She settled for pouring herself and Piper another, and then relaxed back on her hands. It was strange, considering that Piper was the more extravagant partier than the two of them, but Annabeth had always figured she had a high tolerance for physical discomfort. 

Annabeth patted the countertop next to her, but Piper shook her head. 

“I’m off to go talk to people, you should give it a try.” 

Piper jostled her arm jokingly as she said it, but Annabeth felt stung by her comment. It was true that Piper loved to meet new people at parties like these, while Annabeth preferred to stick to herself and friends she knew well. Annabeth hoped the alcohol would kick in and dampen her temper, which was clearly already short tonight. 

“Alright,” she said, “maybe I will. But you go have fun.” 

She nudged Piper with her foot, and within thirty seconds her friend had skipped off into the crowd. 

Annabeth spent a few minutes on her phone, browsing and eliminating notifications. Eventually, she looked up again, and her gaze fell immediately on an intimately entwined pair in the corner. She couldn’t prevent the expression of distaste that spread over her face, and figured it was her cue to move elsewhere. 

Annabeth hadn’t been feeling many effects from her drinks while sitting on the island, but when her feet hit the ground, she did. Her head felt pleasantly lighter as she made her way back to the living room, passing by the crowd of dancers, though halfway across the room she was intercepted by a few classmates. Annabeth half listened to their slurred conversation–they’d been beaten at beer pong, Lindsay’s mom would be furious if she found out where she was, what happened to Annabeth’s hair, they thought it was curly?–and doubted they’d remember much of it in the morning. 

Time took on a slanted kind of quality, rushing by Annabeth as she found herself meeting more people and drifting through the rooms. At one point she wound up at beer pong herself, winning a few rounds but eventually being beaten out. She wasn’t sure how much beer she drank, or the number of celebratory shots she took, but the night was fuzzier after that. 

Annabeth somehow managed to extract herself from an interaction with Jacob Vaughn by declaring she needed a bathroom break, which consisted of staring at her mussed appearance in the mirror for an exorbitant amount of time, and concluding that yes, she was drunk after all. 

Following a halfhearted attempt to tame her flyaways, she left the bathroom and found her way to a room filled with couches and bookshelves, located to the right of the entryway. There was a small crowd gathered there, their eyes glued to a tv screen that flashed with the green turf of a football field. Annabeth flopped down on the corner of the couch, allowing her vision to steady. 

“Hey, are you a Cunningham girl?” 

Annabeth turned her head. The question had come from a boy sitting across from her in a cushy chair. He had straight blond hair and a stocky build, maybe a football player? 

“Yep. Where are you from?” 

“Riverside,” he responded, gesturing vaguely. “I didn’t think I recognized you.” 

Annabeth didn’t know how to respond, but she didn’t feel too bothered. She observed him silently. 

“You enjoying yourself?” 

Evidently this boy wanted a conversation. Annabeth was mildly peeved until she remembered she had nothing else to do. 

“I guess so. I’m here with a friend,” she supplied, before adding, “You?” 

He nodded, and launched into the story of how he knew Summer. The cousin of a friend of a friend, Annabeth thought, but she wasn’t listening too closely to what he’d been saying. Had he told her his name? She couldn’t remember. 

The blond boy was happy to talk, and Annabeth didn’t move. Her spot on the couch was quite comfy. Here and there she responded to what he said or asked a question. At one point he moved over to the couch beside her to show a photo on his phone of the car he’d just purchased. Annabeth didn’t really care, and it was hard to act enthusiastic when all she could think of was the sour smell of sweat that radiated from him. 

Annabeth was looking down at her phone, hoping for a text from Piper, when she heard him say something. 

“Hmm?” 

He laughed. “I said, are you bored?” 

Annabeth looked up at him. She was tempted to answer honestly but tried for a noncommittal shake of her head instead. 

“Just responding to a friend…” she said weakly, gesturing at her phone. 

Now looking directly at him, Annabeth felt he was too close. She attempted to scoot back but found she was already pressed against the arm of the couch. 

“You don’t need to lie to me,” he leered, clearly trying for a friendly smile, but failing. Then, quite suddenly, “You won’t be bored after this.” 

It took all of a second for him to rear forward, grab her face with his hands, and kiss her. 

Understanding flooded through Annabeth a second too late. Maybe if she hadn’t had so much to drink, she would’ve reacted faster, she thought desperately. 

Annabeth was frozen for a moment before she immediately began writhing, trying to turn her face, but he held her jaw in a vice-like grip. She clawed in front of her, and her hands met his sticky shirt, but he’d shifted on top of her and was too heavy to push off. 

He was sour, putrid, tasting of beer, and slick like he’d been drenched in the rain. Panic began to cut through her shock as the realization that she wasn’t strong enough to rebuff him set in, and he was practically suffocating her. 

He was too big, too strung, too solid –

Suddenly his weight was gone, and Annabeth could breathe again. Her body where he’d been pinning her down felt hot and feverish. 

Someone had pulled him off her. Annabeth vaguely registered a presence in front of her, but she didn’t have a moment to spare. Shooting up off the couch, Annabeth spun, and whipping her hand out in front of her, she slapped the blond boy, hard. Her hand connected with the stubble on his chin. As she stumbled from the room towards the door, she heard his casual laughter ring in her ears. His voice, which should have been buried in the noise, sounded to her as clear as day as he laughed off their encounter.

Annabeth stumbled down the stairs to the grassy front lawn and headed to the left. She got all of five feet before she bent over and wretched, her body shaking. When she started walking again, it felt like she’d just stepped out of a sickening car ride. 

Annabeth made it a few steps farther before sitting down on the grass. The ground spun underneath her hands. At least it wasn’t your first her mind whispered, grasping at anything to minimize the significance. 

Annabeth stared up at the night sky. It was black, with no stars peaking through the cover of clouds. Her entire body vibrated with adrenaline, as wave after wave of anger, confusion, and humiliation washed over her. Running a hand across her face, she found her cheeks wet and swiped them dry. 

Annabeth halfheartedly ran a hand through her hair, which felt messy and out of place. Now what? She should find Piper. Yet as soon as Annabeth made up her mind to go find Piper, her entire body began shaking so violently she could hardly move, and she just barely managed not to gag again. No, going back inside was not an option.

She drew her knees close to her chest and hugged them, trying to still herself. Annabeth wasn’t sure how long she sat on the lawn–it could have been five minutes, or forty. Eventually, when her arms began to ache from clutching her knees, she leaned back, and the ground rushed up to meet her, closer than she’d judged. Annabeth tried shutting her eyes, knowing she had to think , but the darkness made her dizziness worse. She snapped her eyes back open to stop the feeling of freefalling through the dark. 

“Annabeth!” 

She shot up at the sound of a male voice, approaching from somewhere behind her. The grass tilted underneath her. She should go, she had to leave–

“There you are.” 

The voice sounded relieved. As Annabeth’s eyes adjusted, she took in the new intruder. He wore a pair of loose jeans and a navy blue t-shirt with a small insignia. His dark hair, which was especially unruly, was scattered across his forehead, and his eyes were alive with relief, concern, and a wildness she didn’t recognize.

Percy. It was Percy. 

“You found me.” 

Annabeth’s voice was quieter, smaller than she’d intended it to be. 

Percy knelt down in front of her, resting his arms on his knees. “Yeah. Are you okay?” 

Percy was easily a few steps away from her, but Annabeth instinctively drew back as he dropped to her level. His question had struck a chord within her, and unsure of how she wanted to respond to his question, Annabeth observed him more closely instead. Percy’s shirt was rumpled, and she noticed it was damp on his chest and left shoulder. He was still watching her, waiting for an answer. She had to say something. 

Annabeth looked away. “I want to go.” 

Percy nodded, like he’d been expecting her answer. 

“Who did you come with?” 

Annabeth shrugged towards the house. “Piper and Hazel. Hazel was going to drive us back, too.” 

“Should I go find her?” 

Annabeth shook her head miserably. Piper wouldn’t be ready to leave, she always stayed late at parties like this, and she needed someone to keep an eye on her. Annabeth couldn’t ask Hazel to drive her home now, not without Piper. She relayed these thoughts to Percy. 

“I’d take you, but Frank drove me. And either way, I shouldn’t be driving,” He told her, his hand behind his neck. “Although Frank hates these parties, I’m sure he’d be more than happy to go.”

The prospect of being able to leave right then filled Annabeth with a brief sense of relief. Percy must have seen it on her face, because he stood up off the grass. 

He stood looking down at her. “I’ll go find him. Will you be okay here?” 

“Yeah,” Annabeth said shakily, trying to ignore the way her stomach clenched at being left alone again. His figure began retreating across the lawn towards the house. “Be quick!” 

Percy couldn’t have been gone for more than five minutes, but it felt a lot longer to Annabeth. Every time the front door opened, she turned, ensuring first that it wasn’t the blonde boy and second if it was Percy returning. 

Annabeth looked at the sky. She thought about the stars, and the universe, and how old it was, and how insignificant she was in comparison. She remembered how a year on Venus is shorter than a day on Earth, and imagined time warping and stretching around her like warm current, malleable and inconsequential and unstoppable. She’d drunk more than she realized. 

Eventually, the creak of the front door turned her head, and it was Percy. Annabeth also recognized Frank, who Percy had introduced her to a few times. He was tall and burly looking, but from the interactions they’d had, Annabeth sensed he wasn’t anywhere near as intimidating as he looked. As they walked towards her, Annabeth noticed four more boys tagging along with them. 

Frank smiled warmly as he approached, waving a hand. “Hey, Annabeth!”

“Hi Frank. Thanks for giving me a ride back.” She’d meant to be smiling, but Annabeth didn’t feel it translate to her face, which seemed to be frozen. 

When he extended a hand to help her stand, Annabeth tried to pretend she hadn’t seen it. Frank didn’t seem to notice anything amiss, because as she stood he pointed his thumb at the other people with them. 

“These Riverside guy’s needed a ride, and I agreed a little earlier I’d take them home,” he explained. “I might need to put you in the way back for a minute, is that okay?”

“Oh no, I don’t mind,” Annabeth assured him. She’d sit just about anywhere if it meant she could get away from Summer’s. Annabeth’s stomach twisted as it occurred to her that the people Frank had agreed to drive home might know the boy she’d met. 

As their group started walking back to Frank’s car, he fell into step beside her. 

“Annabeth, I’m sorry again about the back, but I can’t say no when people ask me for a ride, and these guys clearly need it…” he nodded to the four strangers, who were chattering loudly and walking haphazardly. “I’d force them in the back instead, but I agreed to drive them first…” 

Annabeth smiled at him, sincerely this time. “Really, I don’t mind. It’s nice that you’re willing to do that,” she assured him, interrupting his rambling. She meant it. Annabeth didn’t know many people who would happily take home four drunk strangers. 

Frank scratched the back of his neck, his cheeks a bit pink from her compliment. “Well, you’ll always have a ride with me.” 

The six of them approached Frank’s car, and Annabeth walked towards the way back. While the new boys were trying to organize a four way round of rock paper scissors, Annabeth’s stomach dropped. There weren’t enough seats, meaning she’d have to squeeze in with another drunk boy she didn’t know, one who probably went to school with the one from the party. 

She stood stock still next to the trunk. Maybe she’d rather walk. It wasn’t too cold outside anyway. How far was it to campus? Perhaps there was a bike somewhere she could–

“Look, I can go in the back. It’s no problem.” 

Annabeth looked up and saw Percy had interjected, clapping one of the boys on the back. When his gaze met hers, he gave a small nod. Annabeth felt tears threaten to prick her eyes and blinked quickly to get rid of him. He must have been watching her, and seen her panic. Is it that obvious? 

Frank was protesting, something about Percy being the original person he’d agreed to drive, but Percy waved him off and walked over to Annabeth. He opened the trunk and gestured for Annabeth to get in first. 

She clambered up, pressing her back against the side of the car. Percy came in after and mirrored her position on the other side. 

Frank began driving out of the neighborhood, a familiar song playing softly on the radio. The air inside the car was stale and hot, and it reeked of beer and sweat. The strangers were perfectly friendly, chatting with Frank and each other, but Annabeth could only focus on the frantic pulse of her blood, desperately wishing a window could be rolled down. 

In an effort to distract herself, she pulled out her phone and sent a quick text to Hazel and Piper that she’d gotten a ride back to school. Neither replied. 

The ride dragged on as Frank drove all over town to the boys’ respective houses, and Annabeth was miserably relieved when the last two hopped out at the same time. After Frank let her and Percy out of the back, Annabeth stood in the streetlight, gasping in the cool night air. She would’ve stayed there longer, if she hadn’t seen the look on Percy’s face. Annabeth dove into the backseat to avoid the questions he surely wanted to ask. 

The remainder of the drive of quiet, aside from a few soft remarks Frank and Percy shared. Outside the window it was dark, and Annabeth leaned her face against the cool glass, soothed by the quiet steadiness of the drive. She rolled down the window across from her, letting in a cross breeze, and Percy lowered his own to eliminate the buffeting wind. 

A telltale crunch of gravel signaled they’d pulled through the gate, and as the car slowed Annabeth heard the quiet chirping of crickets hidden in the night. It felt like in returning to Cunningham, they had stepped back behind a curtain, and retreated to a sphere that only the select few had access to. 

Frank arrived in front of the dormitories, and let Percy and Annabeth out. He waved goodbye before driving away again to park, leaving the two of them standing beside the glow from a nearby streetlamp. 

“Thanks for getting me home,” Annabeth said softly, breaking the silence. It sounded insufficient, but she wasn’t ready to voice the state she’d been in when he found her. 

“Yeah. Of course,” he said, hands deep in his pockets. 

Percy was staring at her strangely again–he looked pained, exhausted, unsure. Annabeth didn’t know what to say, so she looked down at her feet instead. 

“I can walk with you to your dorm,” he said, after a moment of indecision passed, sounding just as unsure as he looked. 

Glancing out at the stretch of green between where they were and the door to her dormitory, Annabeth was glad to have a companion. It was a path she’d walked now numerous times, at later hours than this, but tonight it felt particularly deserted. 

Annabeth led the way into the night, setting a brisk pace across the grass. Finding that hearing Percy behind her evoked a sense of pursuit, she forced herself to fall into step beside him instead. 

“You can see Cygnus in the sky tonight,” Annabeth offered, tilting her head back to gaze at the stars. Sure enough, it didn’t take long to spot the telltale cross. “There, see those five?” 

Percy stopped walking to look. 

“It’s supposed to be like a swan; they represent wisdom.”

He frowned. “I thought that was owls.” 

“Well, yeah, but there can be more than one, can’t there?” 

They continued walking. Annabeth had just begun climbing the steps when Percy blurted out, “Athena! Goddess of wisdom. Her symbol is the owl.” 

Annabeth furrowed her brows in confusion. He was right of course, but she didn’t understand why he’d suddenly brought it up. 

“My mom used to read me these stories about ancient Greece,” Percy explained, picking up on her confusion. “I was trying to figure out why I associated an owl with wisdom and finally remembered. I was really into all that when I was little.” 

Annabeth smiled a little. “I had that phase, too. My teacher taught us a little bit about them in fifth grade, and after that, I checked out every book I could find at the library about the Greek gods. I really liked Herme’s, because…well, because he could sneak around. I did that a lot when I was little. And he could go wherever he wanted.” 

Annabeth was surprising herself with her rambling, and clamped her mouth shut before she accidentally shared any more of her indelicate childhood. 

Percy didn’t seem bothered by anything she’d said. “I think you’d be an Athenian,” he told her. “You’re really strategic like they were. You know how they were always innovating…” He gestured his arm vaguely. 

Annabeth was surprised to feel blood rushing to her cheeks, and was acutely thankful for the cover the night provided. It had always pleased her when others noticed her intellect. She was scrambling to think of an appropriate response, but Percy was already beginning to back up. 

“Let me know if you need anything,” he said, watching her intently. 

She nodded tensely. Annabeth felt like she needed a lot right now, but she wasn’t sure what. 

He nodded towards the building next to her own. “I’ll be right there.”

Annabeth twisted her fingers together. “Thanks for getting me home.” 

Her voice quivered against her will. Before he had a chance to respond, she’d turned towards the door and disappeared inside. 

--------------------------------------------

It had been years since Annabeth had felt this way. So out of control, so panicked, so lonely . 

The clock on her windowsill read 2:20. She could just make out its face in the faint light cast by a candle she’d left lit. 

Annabeth had been lying in her bed for what felt like an eternity, her whole body on high alert. The faintest creak from the hallway sent her springing up, checking the lock on her door before padding back across the wooden floor to bed. 

At present, Annabeth was curled on her side, hugging the comforter to her chest. In the quiet darkness, she felt hopelessly vulnerable, and her mind, which she always relied on the most, was working against her. 

Nobody’s here. 

Nobody’s here. 

Nobody’s here. 

Her breathing was shallow. Annabeth tried closing her eyes, and immediately felt his breath on her face, his hands on her body. She couldn’t move, he was too strong, and she was suddenly falling backward–

Annabeth’s eyes flew open. She abruptly sat up, hot tears streaming down her cheeks. Moving to press her back against the wall, she realized she was shaking. 

Her throat felt tight. Annabeth reached for the glass of water beside her bed, her hands shaking so badly it splashed on the pillows. She swiped at the tears on her face, but more just fell in their place. 

Annabeth’s eyes landed on the pile of black and red clothing she’d left on the floor, feeling sick. She wanted to burn them. Her heart was beating furiously in her chest, her panic dangerously close to spiraling out of her control. 

A tremor rushed down her spine and into her stomach, and adrenaline washed through her down to her toes. Annabeth simultaneously wanted to run as far as she could, and curl into a ball and never move again. 

Sitting there, paralyzed, Annabeth’s mind mercilessly replayed the boy's invasion. He might as well have been in the room with her. 

Annabeth was staring at the door, willing to stay up all night to ensure nobody unwanted came in, when she realized she wasn’t breathing. She drew in a gasping breath, her hand flying to her chest as she forced oxygen into her lungs. A fresh wave of panic surged over her, propelling Annabeth to a standing position in the middle of her room. The walls began to spin and tilt around her. 

Annabeth reached for her phone. Dropping to a crouching position on the floor, she hesitated for only a second before texting the only person who she knew would come. 

——————————

When a soft knocking sound came from the door, Annabeth was still crouched on the floor. Her heart pounding, she forced herself across the room and pulled it open. 

Percy stood in the doorway, his disposition so familiar to her now. He was wearing blue checkered flannel pants and a worn maroon t-shirt. 

Annabeth wordlessly stepped aside and let him pass before carefully locking the door behind him. She could feel his eyes on her the whole time, likely noting her stiff movements and poorly held composure. 

She turned and stepped beside him, candlelight still the only illumination in the room now that the door was shut. 

Annabeth reached out with her right hand and grabbed his wrist, holding it tightly. She was shaking again. 

“Annabeth.” 

Percy sounded calm in the dim light, but she could feel his pulse racing under her fingers. 

“I’m so sorry.”

 This time, his voice sounded strained. Annabeth counted the seconds; one, two. Then she did something completely unlike her. 

Annabeth tugged his wrist, hard. As he turned to face her, she stepped straight forward into his chest. 

Percy adapted immediately, wrapping his arms around her. Annabeth’s eyes were shut against his shoulder, her head pressed down. She was aware of his arms, both wrapped around her and one hand cupping the back of her head. Annabeth had burrowed into him, but she adjusted her arms so they wrapped around his back. 

Annabeth wasn’t sure how long they stood there. Slowly, she felt her heartbeat slow until it matched a rhythm with his. 

Percy, for his part, never unwrapped his arms or tried to push her away. He was steady as a rock in a riverbed, and Annabeth clung to him until she was able to climb ashore. 

When she finally stepped back, the room felt much cooler. Annabeth pressed her sleeves to her eyes. 

Percy remained silent. Annabeth stepped back and sat on her mattress, scooting back until she was pressed against the wall. Percy didn’t move, so Annabeth looked pointedly at the end of her bed. At that, he sat beside her, though there were several feet between them. 

Annabeth drew a shaky breath.

“Will you stay here with me a while?” 

Her voice sounded raw and unfamiliar. 

“I can stay.” 

Annabeth nodded. A flood of relief and gratitude for Percy hit her in the chest, and she looked down at her fingers, which were twisted together. 

“Annabeth, I have to tell you something.”

She turned to look at him, her stomach clenching with nerves. Whatever he had to say, she could tell it had affected him significantly. Annabeth remembered his apology from when he’d arrived. 

He dropped his hands into his lap. “I saw you at the party. Before the lawn.” 

Annabeth’s breath hitched. 

“Inside the house,” he continued. “It was pure coincidence, but I was walking up from the basement to get outside, and when I passed the den I saw you in there.” 

Annabeth couldn’t think. She was completely frozen, hanging on his every word. 

Percy took a breath, as if he were bracing himself. “You weren’t alone. I saw you first, and then I saw Carson, and I realized what was happening. He was all over you, and you were clearly not into it, and…” he winced. “You were obviously fighting him, and nobody else in the room seemed to even care –” 

He sounded angrier now. Annabeth stared at the flickering flame of her candle. 

Carson. 

“I pulled him off you as fast as possible. If only I had gotten there a minute earlier, I would've–I could’ve…” he trailed off, at a loss. “You didn’t see me, you got out of there so fast, and I don’t blame you. I’m so sorry that happened. Carson’s always been, I don’t know, assertive, but I never thought he’d take it that far.” 

Annabeth was reeling. It had been Percy. He pulled him off her. Of course he had. Her thoughts struggled to catch up to what he’d just told her. 

“So you knew? All night, you knew, and you didn’t say anything?” 

“I didn’t know how to. I thought you’d tell me if you wanted to, but I realized–I thought you should know that I know.” 

Annabeth processed what he’d said. “I don’t think I would’ve said anything,” She whispered. Then she remembered he’d known the boy's name. Carson’s name. “How do you know him?” 

Percy grimaced. “We’ve gone to the same soccer camp ever since we were 12. I never liked him at all.” 

“I didn’t know his name,” she confessed. “I sat down there, I was so drunk, and he started talking to me. I didn’t really care what he was saying and then–well, you saw.” 

Annabeth swallowed. Her throat felt like sandpaper. 

“Thank you for pulling him off me, Percy. I mean it. He was–” Annabeth’s voice broke. She drew her knees to her chest. “I just hated being in here by myself. It feels like he could get to me at any second, you know? And I know it’s irrational, but I couldn’t handle that.” 

Annabeth’s cheeks burned with embarrassment. It sounded ridiculous saying it out loud. 

“It’s not irrational. I’ll stay here as long as you want.” 

Percy sounded so matter of fact, like what she’d said wasn’t silly at all. Again, she felt a burst of gratitude for his friendship. 

Annabeth took a deep breath. She was suddenly filled with a bone-numbing exhaustion, desperate to close her eyes. 

“Will you stay until Piper gets back?” She asked, looking anywhere but at Percy. Despite knowing that he’d seen what happened, she still felt ashamed of her condition. 

“I’ll stay,” 

Those two words meant more to Annabeth than Percy could’ve known. She blinked furiously at her stinging eyes, extending her hand towards the space between them. 

Annabeth squeezed his hand, warm in her own. Simply thanking him didn’t seem to cover the half of it. 

Percy smiled at her slyly. “It was pretty badass when you slapped him, I have to say.” 

Annabeth almost smiled herself. “Yeah. That felt good.” 

He squeezed her hand back. 

Annabeth slowly lay down, curling her arms around her blanket. Carson threatened to dominate her thoughts when she closed her eyes, but the subtle indent in the mattress near her feet soothed her. She focused on that feeling, scooting her feet down until they almost touched Percy, and slowly drifted to sleep. 

Percy didn’t move from his spot on the bed. Despite his best efforts, he didn’t make it until Piper got back, almost two hours later, and eventually fell asleep himself. 

When the sun streamed through the glass the next morning, Annabeth found him lying sideways on her bed, his messy head of black hair near her knees.

Chapter Text

Telling Piper and Hazel what happened was hard. Annabeth hadn’t decided how she felt about explaining, but Piper’s demands about why Percy was on Annabeth’s bed, on top of their customary debrief on Sunday, made it nearly impossible to dodge the subject for long. 

The three of them had been sitting under the branches of an oak tree on the academic quad, on a blanket of fiery golden leaves. The air was dry and crisp, and Annabeth’s dark uniform jacket was warm from the sun. 

Piper and Hazel’s eyes were glued to Annabeth as she concluded her explanation. “...I wound up in the den. There was this guy there, and he kept trying to talk to me. I should’ve left then, but I guess I wasn’t thinking clearly, because…suddenly he started kissing me. And I didn’t want him to.” 

Despite the matter-of-fact tone, her words hung heavily in the air. When Annabeth looked up, Hazel’s expression had shifted from confusion to shock. 

“What? Annabeth, I–”  She fumbled for words. “I’m so, so sorry.” 

Piper’s expression was livid. “Was he from here?” 

“No. Riverside.” 

“That entitled prick. ” 

Piper suddenly threw her arms around Annabeth, pulling her close to her side. 

“You didn’t deserve that. You hear me, Annie? It’s not your fault. Do not blame yourself for something he did.” 

Annabeth stiffened at the contact, but she let Piper hold her, knowing it helped her. 

Hazel lowered the hand that was covering her mouth. “Are you okay?” 

Annabeth sighed, gently disentangling herself from Piper’s embrace. “I think so. It was actually Percy who saw what was happening and pulled him off me.” She hesitated for a moment, a small smile tugging at her lips. “I slapped the guy before I left.” 

Hazel’s face broke into a teary smile.

“That's just like you,” she muttered, shaking her head. 

Piper exhaled. “He deserved it, and more. I swear to god, Annabeth, I’ll kill him.”

“That’d be bad, because you’d miss the rest of our year.” 

Piper scoffed, clearly unamused. “Yeah, and he’d miss the rest of his life. I mean, are you sure you’re okay?” 

Annabeth sat up straighter, looking both of them in the eyes. 

“Yeah. Percy found me on the lawn and he got me home. I had a panic attack about being alone in our room, and both of you were still out, so I asked him to come sit with me for a while. That’s why he was here this morning.”

Piper and Hazel looked pained. 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t around Annabeth,” whispered Piper. “I just abandoned you at Summer’s, and I never found you again. It was so stupid of me.” 

Hazel nodded. “We should’ve stuck together.” 

Annabeth shook her head, looking at her friends earnestly. “Listen to me. This wasn’t either of your faults, it was his. I was okay. I am okay.” 

Piper and Hazel continued to protest, but there wasn’t much they could say. As Annabeth watched the leaves dance to the ground around them, she was filled with a nearly painful sense of relief for Percy’s attentiveness the night before. She refused to dwell on how the night could’ve unfolded without him. 

————————————

When Annabeth woke up on Wednesday morning, it was misty and dark. Tendrils of fog crept across the sprawling grounds and seemed to have slipped through the cracked window to her room, coaxing her out of bed. She thought it would’ve settled by the time her last class was out, but when Annabeth left physics it only seemed to have intensified, rolling off the lake and making it hard to see more than a few feet in front of her. 

Days like this one weren’t completely unheard of; in the fall, there were always a few. Given Cunningham’s geographical position–surrounded by the rocky hills and nestled in a lake valley–the school was highly susceptible to low-hanging clouds and fog. 

In the early evening, Annabeth struck a familiar path towards the library. Its looming brick spires emerged through the fog as she approached, and the windows glowed like lanterns, inviting her nearer until she pushed open the door. 

Annabeth took a deep breath, absorbing the dusty, wooden smell that she loved so much. Instead of heading for the main hall, she took a left, walking down to a staircase in the far corner. Thanks to the construction of the building, the library had a few small rooms tucked away on the upper levels, somewhat inspired by pyres. Annabeth loved them. 

She rushed up the stairs, the heels of her black shoes clicking softly against the wood. When Annabeth finally reached the top, her heart soared at the sight of the room empty. There was a deep maroon carpet covering the floor, several bookshelves, a small couch, and one cushy chair arranged in the small space. Ancient paned windows usually illuminated the darkness, but thanks to the fog Annabeth switched on two soft lamps instead. 

Annabeth settled into the corner of the couch. Time slid past her, the way it usually did when she was working. Occasionally she readjusted, pulling her legs to her chest, laying on her stomach, sitting on one foot. 

Annabeth was so immersed in her work, she didn’t hear the footsteps winding up the stairs towards her an hour later. 

“Knew I’d find you here.” 

She looked up, refocusing on the room she was in. Percy stood in the doorway, his hair a little damp from the fog. He wore a navy crew neck over his uniform. 

Annabeth smiled at him. “What are you doing here? I thought you had practice.” 

“Yeah, it got canceled. Too hard to do anything when you can’t see anyone else.” 

“So why’d you come here?” She mused, quirking a brow at him. 

“I don’t know. We’re friends, I wanted to see how you were doing.” 

Percy’s voice was completely casual, but his gaze was intent, a piercing analysis of her.  

“I’m fine,” she said casually.  “So we’re officially friends, huh?” 

He rolled his eyes, letting her keep the conversation light. Moving into the room, he flopped down on the couch across from her. “If that's okay with you. I kind of thought so.”

Annabeth laughed. “Yeah, that’s okay with me.” 

He picked up the paper she’d dropped. “What are you working on?” 

She grimaced, swiping it out of his hands. “Latin. We’re supposed to write a poem.” 

He raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “Let me read it.” 

“Absolutely not!” 

“Come on, let me see.” 

“No! What if you copy it?” 

“Oh, so you think it’s good?” 

“No, no that’s not what I meant at all–” 

Percy’s eyes were bright with laughter. “I took French, relax.” He cuffed her on the head. 

Annabeth hit him with the paper. “Whatever. You’re not reading it.” 

“Typically a French student can’t read Latin, you know?” 

Annabeth threw her head back, trying and failing to seem annoyed. 

In the quiet, she noticed the sound of rain on the roof right above them, a steady drum insulating their conversation. She glanced at the window, where droplets of water were racing each other down the panes of glass.

“Hey, how long has it been raining?” 

Percy shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe an hour. You didn’t notice?” 

“Uh, no I was extremely focused on my poem, actually–” 

He choked on another laugh. “Right. How could I forget?” 

Annabeth shook her head, tossing her pen on the table. “I don’t know. But I can’t do this anymore.”

Percy folded his arms, leaning back on the couch. “I guess it’s a good thing you have company then” 

Annabeth began packing her things back into her bag, cleaning up the array of papers that were haphazardly spread across the table. Then, she kicked her feet up onto the couch, sitting sideways and resting her back against the arm. She observed Percy across the couch from her, deciding to ask a question that had been on her mind. 

“You never really told me why you switched to Cunningham your senior year. Why did you?” 

Percy smiled at her, stretching his arms behind his head. “You want to know all my secrets now?” 

She observed him evenly. “You know one of mine. It only seems fair.” 

He picked up a deck of cards sitting on the table beside him and began shuffling them haphazardly. “Mom wanted me out of the house,” he supplied, bridging the cards. “I don’t get on very well with my stepdad. His name’s Gabe. I think she thought it would be better for me if I was gone.” 

“Do you fight a lot?” 

Percy tilted his head side to side, the deck flying in his hands. “You could say that.” 

Annabeth mulled over his words. A thousand memories of her own stepmother flashed through her mind's eye, spanning years of her childhood. 

“Why are you in boarding school?” His voice interrupted her train of thought. 

Annabeth shrugged. “Mom left when I was really young, and my dad remarried when I was six, which I didn’t handle very well. My stepmom and I never had the best relationship, either.” She paused, glancing at him for a reaction, but his face didn’t give away what he was thinking. “I guess I was what you might call the ‘problem’ kid, and I don’t think Dad knew what to do with me. When my stepmom suggested boarding school,  he just sort of went with it.” 

Percy began dealing the cards onto the table. “Were you happy to leave?” 

She considered his question. “Yes and no. I thought I’d love it, at first, because I’d wanted to leave forever. But I think any kid who gets sent across the country at that age misses home.” 

Percy nodded. “So we both have a step-parent. What are the chances?” 

Annabeth smiled at him, arching her back in a stretch. “Pretty high, actually. One in three people have a step-family.” 

Percy rolled his eyes at her, a smile playing on his lips. “Of course you actually know.”

“Of course I do.” Annabeth glanced at the cards he pushed across the table towards her. “What are we playing?” 

“Slapjack.” 

“But there’s no strategy to that,” she protested. 

Percy raised his eyebrows at her. “Wrong. I take this seriously.” 

She sat straighter, leaning over the table. “Okay, fine. But after this, we’re playing gin.” 

Percy cocked his head at her playfully. “Are you sure? I’m from New York City.” 

“Yes, I’m sure,” she insisted incredulously. “I’m from California.”

During their back and forth, cards had already begun rapidly piling up between them. Suddenly Percy’s hand shot forward, Annabeth’s palm covering his a second too late. 

His  smile was brilliant.“Don’t get distracted Chase, or this will be over before it starts.” 

Annabeth stared straight at him, shaking her head as she slowly removed her hand and allowed him to take the cards. 

The game continued. Annabeth had a streak of success, winning almost a third of the deck in one play. As they continued, Percy's stack of cards shrank smaller and smaller.

The cards blurred as they were thrown on the table: eight, queen, five, ten, ace. 

Jack. 

It was his last card. Annabeth’s hand shot forward, meeting Percy’s in the middle as he knocked hers to the side. The result was half the card lay under her own palm, and the rest under his. 

Annabeth immediately tried to wrench the card out of his grasp. Percy had the same idea, evolving to a tug of war between them. 

“Oh, I won that and you know it,” she hissed, twisting the hand vying for the card. 

Percy retaliated, wrenching the other way. “I don’t know why you’re confused, my hand is clearly covering this card–”

She let out an incredulous laugh. “Seriously?” 

His voice was teasing. “Woah, Annabeth, why didn’t you tell me you were this competitive?” 

With a sharp twist, he suddenly managed to yank the card from her hands. Annabeth instinctively made a grab for it, practically diving forward and pushing Percy off balance. In the scramble he fell back against the arm of the couch, Annabeth pitching forwards after him. 

Percy threw his arm backward, but she tackled him down. He managed to avoid her first swipe at his hand, and as Annabeth laughed at the absurdity of the situation, she looked down. Her eyes met Percy’s amused green ones, her blonde hair falling forward and partially obscuring her view, and suddenly Annabeth realized she was practically on top of him. They were almost nose to nose; he on his back and she leaning above him, and Annabeth realized she could count all the freckles on his nose.

Percy laughed too, clearly amused by her commitment. Still, she was hyper-aware of every point they were touching; at her knees and his arms and her hands and his waist. Each point of contact seemed to burn, spurring Annabeth to snap back into action and swipe the card from his now limp hand. As soon as it was in her grasp, she shoved backward off of him. 

“I win," she pronounced triumphantly, waving the card. 

Percy recovered quickly, brushing his perpetually disheveled hair off his forehead as he sat up, and shaking his head in disbelief. “I guess you got lucky.” 

"No, that was skill."

Percy began cleaning up the cards left on the table, picking up a few that had fallen on the carpet and arranging them back into a deck. He stretched a hand out to her, a familiar smile on his face again. 

“Mind if I have that card?” 

She laughed, realizing it was still clasped in her hand. “Oh, yeah. I guess so.” 

She held it out, and he slowly took it from her, raising a brow as if he half expected her to tackle him again. Annabeth sat back and watched the card disappear as he shuffled it into the deck, the face of the red Jack blurring with the rest.  

––––––––––––––––––––––––

Later that night, Annabeth sat on her bed propped up by a mountain of pillows. Piper, across the room from her, wore a pair of headphones and was busy with a scattering of papers laid across her mattress. 

Annabeth stared at the end of her bed, where Percy had sat only a few days before. She could practically see his outline there now. 

It felt as if she’d known him for years, not a handful of weeks. Annabeth rarely grew attached to anyone, and she was hyper-aware of the emotional strings forming between her and Percy. Worse, Annabeth knew her friendship probably only meant a fraction to him what it did to her. She wasn’t stupid; his charisma and sense of humor had made him immediately well-loved not only by the soccer team, but by, it seemed to her, almost everyone who’d met him. 

Percy had no idea, for example, of the way many of their classmates looked at him. What Percy missed, Annabeth noticed; the lingering glances and overdrawn laughter that seemed to follow him wherever he went. 

It didn’t bother her, of course. Not that Percy seemed interested, but it was none of her business anyway. 

“Annabeth, are you okay?” 

Piper pulled her headphones down around her neck and observed Annabeth with sage curiosity.

“Yeah, why?” 

Piper shrugged. “I don’t know, you just looked a little…never mind.” She pulled her headphones back over her ears and returned to the papers in front of her. 

Confused, Annabeth watched Piper for a few seconds. However, she swiftly gave up attempting to understand her friend and tugged out the light of her lamp instead. She punched her pillow into place and curled up under her comforter, turning towards the open window. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and waited for sleep to come.

Chapter Text

As they entered October, the weather turned colder. The mountains around the school became icy and gray, and the grass and branches were coated with a thin layer of frost each morning. Occasionally, when she was up in the early hours of the morning, Annabeth saw the soccer team trudging to practice bundled in fleece and hats.

Their season was in full swing, with games every week, and already Cunningham had a strong record, winning five of their six games. College coaches seeking recruits began to frequent their games, pacing with clipboards and watching like hawks, and caused great anxiety amongst the players and students alike.

“I just wish we didn’t know they were there,” Percy had told Annabeth one evening. “If they weren’t so easy to pick out in a crowd we’d all be less nervous, and they’d see a more accurate game. The second people hear about a recruiter, everyone is suddenly playing on a one-man team.”

Annabeth was surprised to learn that coaches had been reaching out to Percy since his junior year. It seemed that’s what happened to athletes like him–the ones who played so naturally it looked like they didn’t even have to try. This fact didn’t seem to help his confidence, however.

“Soccer is my best chance at college. And switching schools my senior year, especially to all the way out here…”

Annabeth looked up at him from where she was lying on his floor, her physics textbook in front of her. Percy was on his back staring at the ceiling, half his legs dangling off the end of his bed.

“Percy, I think there’s a reason there are so many more recruiters making the drive this year.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not just that. I’ve got to keep my grades up, and I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t harder to do that here.”

Annabeth stood up, and Percy scooted over so she had space to flop down next to him. She tucked her hands behind her head, staring at the same spot on the ceiling he was.

“Look, I may have thought you were going to be a shitty lab partner the first time I met you, but you proved me wrong pretty quickly. You’re smarter than you give yourself credit for.”

Percy threw an arm over his eyes and sighed.

“I just don’t get why Wagner is always diving all over the place. It’s a high school game, and he makes the whole team look dumb.”

Annabeth rolled her eyes. It was true that their midfielder was always begging for fouls by throwing himself onto the grass, but Percy usually wasn’t so aggravated by what the others were doing. He had to get out of his head.

“Come on, let's go get some fresh air. It’ll make you feel better.”

“But it’s freezing outside.”

“Then we can run around. You can teach me how to dribble. I don’t care, let’s just do something.”

A smile spread across his face. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

Already, Annabeth could tell her plan was working. Percy sat up with more enthusiasm, tugging on a hat and forcing his shoes on without bothering to untie them. Annabeth followed suit, pulling on a pair of finger gloves and her navy puffy jacket.

Percy was standing in the doorway while she finished tying her boots. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

She followed him into the hallway and down the stairs. When they stepped outside, the icy air blew Annabeth’s eyelashes back, making her eyes water.

“Feeling better?” She asked.

Percy shoved his hands in his pockets and spun to face her, a small smile on his face. “Yeah.”

They arrived on the soccer field, and Percy stole a practice ball from the shed. He returned to where Annabeth was standing inside the goalie box, and dropped it on the grass between them.

“This one’s a little deflated, but it’ll work. First,—”

Annabeth didn’t wait to hear what he said. She charged forward, kicking the ball from between them to the side before aiming a strike towards the net.

Percy watched as it rolled slowly into the corner.

“Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be?”

Annabeth shrugged, a pleased smile on her face.

“Okay, fine. We can do it your way.” He collected the ball from the net and kicked it back to just outside the penalty box, before moving to stand between it and the goal. “Try again.”

Annabeth kicked the ball forward, and for a few seconds, Percy didn’t move. She made to go around him, keeping the ball in front of her as she dodged to the left, but within a second Percy had easily picked it from under her feet. Her foot swung uselessly at the air where it had been a moment before.

She huffed angrily, running towards him, but he danced backward with the ball with infuriating grace. Annabeth abandoned any pretense of conventionality and darted forward again, her strategy essentially to get in the way enough that he’d lose possession.

It didn’t work. A few times Annabeth managed to make contact with the ball, but Percy ended up running her around the field for minutes. Each time she thought she had a chance, Percy would dodge at the last minute and retreat laughing, leaving Annabeth to catch her breath and then give chase all over again.

Finally, exhausted from the constant sprinting, Annabeth raised her hands in surrender.

“I give up,” she managed, smiling ruefully.

Percy walked back over to her, his cheeks flushed from the exercise and cold air. “Never thought I’d hear you—hey!”

The second his attention was elsewhere, Annabeth kicked the ball from between them and took off sprinting down the field as fast as possible.

She could hear Percy gaining on her from behind and knew he would catch her any second. At the last instance, Annabeth aimed a strike at the net. A moment later Percy stuck out his foot to block the shot, sending himself and Annabeth tumbling towards the grass.

She plunged forward, her hands bracing the fall, and felt the cold grass and dirt scrape her arms and cheek. Raising her head, Annabeth watched the ball bounce off the goalpost and out of bounds.

“No, no, no…”

Annabeth flopped back to the ground.

A few feet from her, Percy slowly sat up, rolling his neck from side to side.

“Sorry about that,” he said, sounding more amused than apologetic. “That was unsportsmanlike behavior.”

“I think the word you’re looking for is foul.”

“No, see it wasn’t a foul because I made contact with the ball before I made contact with you, so…”

He rubbed grass out of his messy hair as he explained.

Annabeth huffed out a frustrated breath, throwing an arm over her eyes. This was one arena in which Percy had the higher ground.

The cool air whispered around them as they lay in silence. Annabeth felt energy buzzing through her, her senses alive to the world around her.

She pushed herself to a sitting position, resting an arm on her leg. Percy was already sitting up, and he laughed when she turned towards him.

“You’ve got grass all over you, Chase,” he informed her.

Annabeth looked down and saw he was right. The grass stuck stubbornly to her uniform, especially her sweater. She began brushing it off impatiently.

“I can get your back,” Percy offered, scooting closer. Annabeth felt his hands brushing her shoulder blades. Then he scooted back in front of her. “All done.”

She smiled, picking a last piece off of her forearm. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Annabeth abruptly reached out, plucking a blade of grass from his hair. Percy pulled back, confused at first until she held it up in front of him.

“Just returning the favor,” she teased, flicking it back in his direction.

“Right.”

Percy tugged his phone out of his pocket. “Leo’s getting dinner with Piper and Hazel. You hungry?”

Annabeth’s stomach grumbled in response. She pushed herself to her feet, offering a hand to Percy when he didn’t follow suit.

“Let’s go, I’m starving.”

Percy grabbed her hand, pulling a little harder than was necessary. It forced Annabeth to dig her heels into the ground so as not to topple forward.

They set off across the field together, heading back up towards the cluster of buildings. Annabeth spoke as they walked.

“Fair warning, Piper’s been getting really excited about Halloween. I think she wants us all to do a group costume.”

“As what?”

“That’s the thing, she doesn’t know yet.”

Percy looked amused. “I’ll have to brainstorm then.”

“So you’ll do it?”

“Well yeah, why not?”

“I don’t know,” Annabeth faltered. Halloween had never been a very significant holiday; when she’d dressed up in California, her brothers stole all her candy, and after she got to boarding school, she never went again. It hadn’t occurred to her that Halloween trick-or-treating would happen in New York City. “Did you trick or treat when you were little?”

“Oh, yeah,” said Percy, smiling. “Mom would always get me in some elaborate costume. There were lots of people in our apartment handing out candy, especially to a little kid like me. They’d decorate their doors, and dress up and everything. One guy even had a fog machine, it was loads of fun. Did you?”

Annabeth shrugged. “Not really. I mean, we went out some years, but then I came here, and…well, there was never much to do until high school, and by then it was just parties.”
Percy nodded sympathetically. “I guess we’ll just have to go all out this year, then.”

Annabeth wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but they’d reached the dining hall. She pulled the heavy wooden handle and followed Percy inside.

The line for food wasn’t too long, and after perusing for a bit, Annabeth joined their table by the windows with a bowl of squash soup and grilled cheese.

Hazel smiled as she approached. “Annabeth! There you are.”

“Hey guys” she responded, sliding into an open seat next to Piper. Leo looked up from across the table, abandoning the napkin he was scribbling on and a very confused-looking Frank next to him.

“Look who it is! Say, what happened to Percy, did you leave him behind? Between you and me, I wouldn’t blame you in the slightest…”

Annabeth rolled her eyes at him. “No, he’ll be here in a minute. Don’t let him hear you say that.”

Frank nodded at her from across the table. “How’ve you been?”

“I’m fine.” She glanced between Frank and Hazel. “Say, have you two met? This is Hazel.”

“Oh, we met a few weeks ago, actually. Leo introduced us,” Hazel said happily. Frank nodded in agreement.

Across from her, Leo widened his eyes theatrically at Annabeth, looking pointedly between the two and grinning proudly. Annabeth raised a skeptical eyebrow, crossing her arms as disbelief flickered across her face, her expression clearly saying You cannot be serious.

Leo and Annabeth winced simultaneously as Piper kicked them both under the table. As their expressions dropped, Piper sent a pointed glance at Annabeth, her words unspoken. We’ll talk about this later.

Hazel and Frank seemed utterly oblivious to the commotion beside them, talking contentedly over their dinner about a shared teacher. She observed them curiously.

Annabeth turned towards Piper. “Hey, how come I didn’t know they met?”

Piper shrugged. “We haven’t seen you as much these days. Seems like you’re always with…”

She trailed off, glancing across the table to where Percy was approaching with a delicately balanced bowl of soup. “Hey, Percy!”

Annabeth was silent, considering Piper’s implication. It was true she didn’t spend all her time with them anymore, but she still saw them every day. Did they feel as if she was abandoning them?

Annabeth pushed the thought to the back of her mind as they all began eating, drifting into the conversation. She’d have to speak to Piper later.

It wasn’t until dessert that Annabeth’s prediction came true.

“So, Halloween’s coming up…” Piper mused, biting into a cookie.

Annabeth met Percy’s gaze across the table. He ducked his head, concealing his expression, but his eyes danced with laughter.

“...and I was thinking, what if we did a group costume? It’d be fun, and plus it takes the pressure off.”

Leo sat up straighter. “I’m in. Hear me out: what if we did pun-based costumes?”

Percy choked on his water. Frank looked skeptical. “What do you mean?”

“Come on, guys. I could be a hot potato–like, I dress as a potato with flames. Someone else could be a ceiling fan, you’d just need a shirt that says ‘go ceiling’ and pom poms. Bonus because we could make these all super easily. Oh, Annabeth, you have to be a smart cookie. A cookie costume with glasses! Get it? Because–”

“I think she gets it, Leo” Percy interrupted.

“Great, so Leo’s in,” (Piper nodded at him gratefully) “but do we have any other costume ideas? I mean, yours are great, but–”

“Are they?” Percy managed, openly laughing at Leo.

Leo looked incredibly offended.“You know what, let’s hear your great idea, then. Go ahead, please, by all means–”

“Like literally anything else. Animals, maybe?”

“Animals?”

“Woah, guys calm down,” Piper shouted as they continued to bicker.

“No idea is a bad idea,” Hazel added.

Percy looked exasperated.“Puns is a terrible idea.”

“We could do Disney characters?” offered Frank.

Hazel nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, that could work.”

Piper shook her head. “Too popular. There’ll be plenty of Disney costumes. We need something more unique, but still recognizable…”

Annabeth bit her lip, an idea slowly materializing.

“What if we went as Friends?”

“Yeah, I sort of thought we’d worked that much out already, Annabeth,” said Leo.

“No, I mean like the TV show. You know, Joey, Chandler, Monica, Rachel, Phoebe, and Ross.”

Aside from Leo’s mumbled understanding, everyone was silent as they considered. Annabeth looked around, trying to discern if her idea had landed poorly or not.

“You know what, I’m really liking that,” Piper declared, breaking the silence first. “You’d have to be Monica, obviously.”

Annabeth grinned. “I think you’ve got to be Rachel, then.”

“Dibs on Joey,” Leo added, clapping his hands together. “I’m liking this too, honestly. He was the handsome one, right?”

“You can be Joey,” said Piper, ignoring the rest of what he’d said. “Frank, Percy, Hazel, are you in?”

They looked at each other, all nodding together. “I think this is the one,” said Percy.

Piper cheered and threw an appreciative arm around Annabeth. “I knew this would work. Good idea, Annie. We have Chandler, Ross, and Phoebe left then.”

“I’ll be Phoebe,” offered Hazel.

Piper’s appraising gaze jumped between Percy and Frank. “Who’s who, then? Percy–”

Annabeth and Leo spoke at the same time. “Chandler.”

Percy put his hands in the air as they both began laughing. “I guess that’s settled, then. I can be Chandler.”

Piper turned. “Frank, are you okay with Ross?”

“Sounds good to me,” he said, shrugging. “I’ll be honest, I’ve only ever watched a few episodes.”

“What?” Hazel sounded dismayed. “You have to watch more!”

“Maybe. I guess I should probably know my character…”

“I can show you the best episodes.”

As Annabeth watched them speak she threw another glance at Leo. He was already watching her, with a What did I say? look on his face.

—————————————————

After they’d all said goodnight, Annabeth and Piper had trudged up the stairs to their room. The two sat with their backs against the wall on Piper’s bed.

“So what’s going on with Hazel and Frank?”

“Well, nothing technically,” Piper replied. “ We were with Leo a few weeks ago, and he brought Frank. They just got along pretty well. I think they match each other’s energy, you know?”

“Yeah, I was thinking that at dinner,” Annabeth agreed. “She’s not usually comfortable around new people that quickly. Especially guys.”

Piper hummed in agreement.

They lapsed into a comfortable silence. Yet anxious about Piper’s comment earlier, Annabeth thought it felt heavier with every moment she didn’t say anything.

“Um, about what you said tonight, at dinner?” she blurted out.

Piper looked confused. “Yeah..?”

Annabeth sighed. “About me not seeing you guys as much. I just wanted to say, I know I’ve been spending more time with Percy recently. I thought I was balancing things out well with you and Hazel, but if I’m not…” she paused, searching for the right words. “This is our last year together, and you’re my best friend in the world. I don’t want anything to get between us.”

Annabeth steeled herself for Piper’s reaction, turning towards her.

Piper had been watching Annabeth intently, but as she faced her, a warm smile lit up her friend's face.

“Annie, I’m glad you’re branching out. I think it’s great that you’re friends with him, and I didn’t mean for you to feel like you were ditching us. I certainly don’t feel that way.”

Annabeth let out a shaky breath of relief.

“Annabeth, I say this from a place of love, but you’ve got a much smaller circle than me. It would be totally hypocritical if I told you you couldn’t have any more friends.”

Annabeth feigned annoyance. “Well, when you put it that way…”

Piper rolled her eyes. “Come here. I’m sorry I said that.”

Annabeth lay down, resting her head in Piper’s lap. “He’s really funny. He tried to teach me soccer today.”

“Did he?” said Piper absentmindedly. Then she tugged playfully on Annabeth’s hair. “Good idea for our Halloween costume, by the way. I think it’s perfect.”

“Thanks. Maybe I should dye my hair black.”

Piper giggled, but then became very serious .“With your natural blond? That would be a crime.”

Chapter Text

“Are we sure we want to do this?”

“Yes! Come on, it’ll be fun. It’s all fake, this is what Halloween’s all about,” Hazel insisted, twisting her head to look at Leo. His brows were furrowed with reluctance.

Annabeth grabbed her hair from the passenger seat, redirecting her gaze. “Eyes on the road Hazel.”

Piper reached over and patted Leo’s hand absently. “It’s short, and besides it’ll just be effects and people in costumes.”

“Yeah. Not real,” Frank mumbled.

The six of them were squeezed into Leo’s station wagon, on their way to a haunted house. Or, as Hazel insisted on calling it its true name, ‘House of Terror.’ The outing hadn't exactly been a unanimous decision, but Hazel claimed it would get them all in the right mood before the annual Halloween bonfire. Annabeth had never been, and while she was slightly apprehensive, the challenge intrigued her.

Though Leo was the most vocally opposed, Annabeth suspected Frank was even more uneasy. Since getting in the car, he’d fallen nearly completely silent, bouncing his leg and staring into the darkness outside his window. In comparison, Hazel was thrilled, insisting it was tradition.

The drive was longer than Annabeth anticipated, bringing them far outside of town. Hazel finally parked the car in a dirt lot, beside an expansive field of corn. They filed out of the car one by one and stood staring at the house in front of them.

Its cracked, stone exterior rose into the night, the collection of slanted roofs creating a stark silhouette against the dark sky. Ivy crept up the walls like skeletal fingers, and splintered wood covered a collection of broken windows. Though no movement could be detected inside, the house distinctly didn’t feel abandoned.

A sagging, wrought iron gate encircled the yard, in front of which was a ticket vendor, swarmed by a costumed crowd. The gate swung open silently, and they watched as a trio advanced up a gravel path, eventually disappearing into the house.

“I heard this place was built on top of land that used to be a cemetery. They buried people without any family or something here,” Leo stated matter-of-factly.

Piper shook her head at him. “Yeah, right. According to who?”

Leo widened his eyes. “Everyone knows that, Piper. Like, the locals.”

Piper swallowed. No one moved, all of them considering the ground on which the house stood.

Eventually, Percy broke the silence. “Right, well, are we going or not?” he asked, turning towards them. “Come on.”

“Yeah, let’s go,” said Annabeth, following him toward the ticket booth. Leo fell into step beside her, with Piper, Hazel, and Frank the farthest back.

While they waited in line for tickets, Piper moved next to Annabeth.

“Hey, do you think this is actually on a graveyard? Because that’s some really weird energy,” she whispered.

“I doubt it. Just another dumb thing Leo made up,” Annabeth responded, though she was unsure how much she even believed her own words.

Hazel and Percy returned with their tickets, and they huddled together outside the gate, waiting for their turn.

“What’s our strategy?” Leo asked.

Piper frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Well, are we sticking together? Or just trying to get through as fast as possible on our own? What if they try to split us up, do we just let it happen?”

“I think stick together, if we can. It’ll be better as a group,” said Annabeth. “If they deliberately separate us, which I don’t really think will happen, just try to stick with at least one other person.”

Leo nodded, kicking a pebble down the path. Eventually, they reached the front of the line and stepped up before a bored-looking worker, who’s orange shirt displayed a very non–threatening Jack-O-Lantern. He wordlessly accepted their tickets from Hazel, scanning each and tearing off the bottom. As he handed them back, his small eyes lit with recognition.

“Hah. Nice costume. This is The One with the Screaming Contest!”

Cracking up at his own joke, he gestured for the next group to come forward before any of them had a chance to respond. “Next!”
They stumbled through the gate, which slammed shut behind them.

“He was weird,” stated Frank.

Piper glanced back at him. “At least he got our costume. But now what?”

Annabeth shifted her attention to the house in front of them, analyzing it like a puzzle. It was nothing but a maze, dressed to appeal to their psychological weaknesses. Common sense and seeing the theatrics for what they were would see them through.

When nobody moved, Percy shrugged and advanced up the front steps to the porch. The yard they passed through was mostly empty, save for a few abandoned belongings: a shovel, a wheelbarrow, the remnants of a trellis. Not the fake graves and hands Annabeth had anticipated. Then again, that might’ve been too insensitive if Leo’s claims about the land were true. Somehow the inconspicuous grass made what he said seem more probable, but Annabeth shoved the thought aside.

The screen door creaked shut as they all passed through. Again, the porch was mostly barren, save for a lone rocking chair moving slowly back and forth in the wind. Taking one last look at the group, Percy pulled open the wooden front door and stepped inside. “Here we go.”

They entered a narrow hallway, which was nearly completely dark. Though it had been cold on the porch, inside the chill felt even deeper. Looking down, Annabeth saw her feet had disappeared into a blanket of fog.

Percy ventured a few steps forward, and Annabeth followed. He abruptly paused, and she nearly collided with him. He pressed a hand to the back of his neck. “Annabeth, was that you?”

“No, what is it?” she asked, her voice quiet in the tense silence.

Percy hesitated, his hand lingering on his neck. “I just–never mind.”

“Dude, stop it,” Leo hissed from behind. “You’re freaking me out.” 

“Yeah, well, let’s just keep moving, alright?” said Hazel, gesturing forward.

They continued slowly down the hall, their footsteps muffled by the fog. Annabeth could just make out the portraits that adorned the walls, who’s faded faces seemed to be following them as they moved.

Up ahead, a heavy wooden door creaked open by itself, revealing a room beyond the hallway. Flickering lanterns illuminated a pattern of cracked mirrors covering the walls, their surfaces rippling unnaturally in the dim light. Annabeth watched the group's fractured shadows appear as they advanced one by one inside.

Piper approached her own reflection, her face appearing pale and distorted. A moment later, she jumped back as if the image had burned her. “Did anyone see that?”

Annabeth stepped closer to observe her own reflection. “See what?”

Piper sighed. “It was probably just a trick of the light. It looked like there was something behind me in the mirror, I don’t know if–”

She was interrupted by a loud crack, followed by the sprinkle of shattered glass. A mirror had cracked down the middle. Leo, who was nearest the pieces, jumped back. “What the hell?”

“Just part of the show, right?” Frank offered, pulling Leo back to the center of the room. Annabeth and Piper followed suit until they all stood back to back under a rickety chandelier. Nobody moved, but in the silence something rustled in the corner nearest the opposite door.

Leo ran an erratic hand through his hair.“Um, guys, I hate to be this person, but are you hearing that?”

“I heard it.” Frank’s voice was barely audible.

The scraping seemed to grow louder, closer, and Annabeth spun around, her eyes searching the corner where it seemed to be coming from. The dim lighting did nothing to help identify the source.

“Let’s move on. It’s just a prop,” she insisted, cutting a path directly towards the door next to the mysterious noise. She was nearly there when the lights flickered out, plunging the room into total darkness.

“What the hell?”

Leo’s voice was high and panicked, his footsteps scrambling in the dark. Annabeth froze, the whispering noise even stronger as it drew closer to her. She took a deep breath, staring down the dark for any sign of what lay in the corner.

The noise grew even louder, and Annabeth sensed movement approaching her. She spun, trying to spot any one of her friends in the total darkness until the familiar scent of sea air and sun-warmed cedar hit her. Percy’s silhouette emerged out of the darkness next to her.

“Come on, let’s go.”

They stumbled through the darkness, feeling their way along the wall to the doorway. Percy pulled her through, and Annabeth heard their friends’ footsteps behind them. “Is everyone here?”

She was met by a chorus of breathless ‘yes’s’ and a few curses. Just as the wall behind them slid shut, a glimpse of a shadowy figure was illuminated inches from where they’d been standing.

Leo backed into the room, pointing at the now-closed door. “Oh, great. Look. You guys saw that, right?”

Frank cracked his fingers. “Yeah, but we’re through the room now. It’s done, right?”

“That one, yes,” Hazel assured him. “What’s next?”

Annabeth wondered the same thing. The room they’d walked into was smaller than the last, lit dimly by a sole flickering light bulb that sputtered above them, swaying gently on a string. Shadows stretched across the peeling walls, which were lined by dozens and dozens of glass jars, their murky contents barely visible in the gloom. Strange, distorted shapes floated inside–twisted bones, preserved eyes, and unidentifiable organs suspended in viscous fluid. Occasionally, the jars emitted soft pops and gurgles, as if the contents still maintained some semblance of life.

Leo wrinkled his nose as he approached the nearest shelf. “Is that…a brain? That’s a brain. Nope, I’m good. Let’s turn around–”

“We can’t just turn around, Leo,” Piper hissed, though she recoiled at the rows and rows of jars. “Let’s just get out of here.”

Frank, who had been lingering near the doorway, suddenly froze. His face was pale as he pointed to the corner of the room. “Guys. Look.”

They all turned. In the corner of the room stood a massive glass container, stretching nearly to the low ceiling. Inside, hundreds of spiders swarmed over each other, their glossy black bodies reflecting the dim light as they moved in a frenzied, writhing mass. The sound of their skittering legs created a low, scratching hum that filled the room.

Hazel and Piper drew up short as they registered the container. Leo, demonstrating a moment of bravery, approached the glass and peered inside.

“Okay, that's…that’s real. Those are real.”

Annabeth’s breath hitched. Oh no. No. No. No.

She watched in horror as Leo continued to examine the container's inhabitants. He pressed a hand to the glass, tilting his head. “Hey, look how big some of these are. This one’s like the size of my hand.”

“Leo, stop,” Percy said, watching Annabeth carefully. “Annabeth–”

Leo suddenly leaped back from the glass. “Woah, my god oh my god oh my god–it’s not, there’s no–” He gestured frantically at the top of the jar, and Annabeth felt her heart drop to her stomach. The lid tilted as the spiders underneath it writhed, and a few began to teem out of the top, clinging to the glass and dropping to the floor. “–It’s not sealed,” Leo concluded.

Annabeth forced herself to keep breathing. She tried to convince herself they were probably trained, but one glimpse at the writhing, glistening mass had her fighting not to gag.

Piper was standing in the center of the room under the light bulb, turning her head frantically between the exit on one side and Annabeth on the other. Having killed countless spiders for Annabeth over the course of their friendship, she knew how much Annabeth detested them.

“They’re gross, but they’re harmless. We just need to not bother them and get out of here,” she told Annabeth evenly.

Hazel, who stood nearest to the container, shook a spider off of her boot and sent it flying, seeming relatively unconcerned. Trying to emulate her friend's confidence, Annabeth forced herself to take a few tentative steps forward. It felt robotic. All she needed to do was make it across the room, in front of the container, and through the door.

Piper had already crossed, and stood holding the door open. Annabeth kept her gaze fixed on the floor, carefully navigating her way across the room. Her pulse roared in her ears as she tried to block out the scratching hum of spiders and the faint plop of more of them hitting the floor.

Percy walked a few steps behind her. “Almost there,” he said softly, his voice low and steady.

Annabeth nodded, her jaw clenched so tightly it hurt. The door was only a few feet away now. Almost safe. Almost–

A sudden whir above them made her freeze.

Before she could react, something heavy and hairy dropped from the ceiling, landing squarely on her shoulders.
Annabeth’s world tilted.

A massive spider–easily rivaling the size of a dinner plate–draped over her head and shoulder, its legs brushing against her cheeks and neck. The feeling against her skin triggered every primal fear Annabeth had. Her scream was high and raw, cutting through the room like a knife.

Her vision went blurry with panic as she stumbled backward, shaking violently. Reaching out, Annabeth clung to Percy’s wrist, her nails digging into his skin in a vice grip. Although every instinct in her told her to bolt, she forced herself to be still. Her breaths came in short, ragged gasps.

“Oh God, get it off, get it off, get it off–”

Percy reacted instantly, yanking the spider and tossing it aside, where it thudded on the floor. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.” His voice was firm and assured. “It’s fake, Annabeth, it’s fake. You’re okay.”

Annabeth’s chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath, her fingers still wrapped tightly around his wrist.

“You’re okay,” Percy said again, softer this time. “Just breathe.”

Piper rushed over, abandoning her spot in the doorway and placing a hand on Annabeth’s back. “It’s gone, Beth, it was just another prop. We’re almost through, just keep going.”

Annabeth nodded, the shock wearing away to a painful pounding of adrenaline. Not daring to look anywhere but forward, she rushed towards the exit.

The moment they burst through the door, Annabeth collapsed against the wall. Percy crouched beside her.

“Are you okay?”

She nodded weakly. “I–I hate spiders.”

Hazel, Leo, and Frank stumbled through the door behind them and slammed it shut. Leo placed a hand over his mouth. “Hazel, I swear to God. Why do we listen to you?”

Hazel looked genuinely apologetic as she approached Annabeth. “I’m sorry Annie, I didn’t think there would be real spiders.”

Annabeth pushed herself off the wall, smiling weakly. “It’s okay, Hazel. It’s Halloween.”

When Percy moved to step forward, Annabeth felt a tug. She glanced down, where her fingers were still wrapped over his own. Percy’s eyes followed her own gaze, and he squeezed her hand tight for a moment before allowing her to drop his hand.

As Percy started walking again, Annabeth lifted her hand, her palm tingling where his touch had been. A moment later, she hurried to catch back up with her friends.

After the spiders, Annabeth found herself strangely calm as they ventured through the rest of the house. She was almost numb, as if her body understood the worst had already happened.

Snaking up a flight of rickety stairs, the group arrived on the second floor of the house, where the rooms were smaller and filled with a plethora of jump scares. A pale figure crawled out from under the bed in an antiquated bedroom, causing Leo to yelp and shove Percy forward. In what resembled an abandoned child's nursery, a mannequin suddenly lunged out at them while a cracked music box faintly played a warped melody from the dresser. Even Hazel, who’d been the most fearless of the group, finally let out a sharp gasp when a rotting hand burst from a wall mere inches from her face.

When they finally stumbled out of the exit, every one of them was relieved to be outside. Percy and Annabeth ran through their now signature handshake, and Hazel insisted they all have their picture taken in front of the house. Back piled in the car, with the heat turned up, the experience already felt farther away. As Hazel pulled out of the parking lot, Leo vowed to never return.

“And look, they better have cider at the bonfire. It’s the only thing that kept me going in there.” He jerked his head back in the direction they’d come.

————————————

Since they’d been gone, the sun had set, and in its absence pumpkins appeared across campus on school buildings, resting in trees, and lining the walkways. It was a Cunningham tradition for them not to appear until Halloween Night, when they arrived in great quantities, flickering and glowing at every turn.

“This happens every Halloween?” asked Percy.

Piper leaned over, looking out the window beside him. “Yep, and it’s always better than you remember.”

Hazel drove slowly, giving them all a chance to admire. When she finally parked behind the dorms, there were still plenty of glowing pumpkins in sight, resting on window sills and in doorways. Groups of students milled in and out of the buildings, mingling and greeting one another with laughter and drinks before drifting in the direction of the trees.

Piper leaned over the console as they all clambered out. “Hazel, will you pop the trunk?”

A familiar click followed her request, and Piper walked to the back with a pleased smile on her face. After a moment of rummaging, she turned back around holding an eight-pack of cans.

“You’re in luck, Leo, because I brought us ciders for the road!”

They all cheered–Leo’s the loudest, accompanied by a firm clap on the back– and she distributed them. Even Hazel took one with a bashful smile. “Just this once, since nobody’s driving.”

As Annabeth took a sip of her own, she raised an eyebrow at Piper. “When did you manage to get these?”

Piper winked. “You know I have a knack for it. Went in on Thursday, the cashier didn’t even blink.”

“That’s our Rachel!” Leo crowed, slinging an arm over her shoulder. Piper elbowed him fondly before raising her arm for a toast.

“Here’s to our senior year, and to new and old friends!”

They all joined in, bumping their drinks to Piper’s words, and Percy’s eyes met Annabeth’s across the circle in silent acknowledgment. She felt herself smile before her gaze dropped to the ground. When Leo began leading the march into the trees, Percy fell into step beside her.

“Feeling okay?”

She exhaled, carefully stepping over a fallen tree. “Yeah. Thanks for helping me back there. I mean, with the spiders.”

“No problem.”

Annabeth squirmed with discomfort. In retrospect, her reaction to the animatronic seemed over the top. “I just really hate them,” she muttered.

Percy stuck his hands in his pockets. “It was the only room that really got you, though.”

Annabeth shrugged. “I suppose.”

They walked a little farther in silence, and Annabeth began to feel the steady thrum of a bass. Shouting and chattering voices wove between the trees, growing louder with each step.

“So, is this fun?” Percy asked, leaning down so Annabeth could hear.

“If you make it fun.”

He crushed the now-empty can in his fist and held it up. “What, with this?”

Annabeth drained her own and imitated him. “Doesn’t hurt. Although–” she turned and pointed at his chest, “–Keep an eye on Leo. I think this is usually a big night for him.”

“I always keep an eye on him,” Percy laughed, shaking his head. “You’re forgetting he's back in the city every summer.”

“I didn’t forget.”

“Did so.”

Her eyebrows knit. “Maybe for a second, fine. I just can’t believe you’ve only been here for a few months.”

“Can’t you?” He gave her a sideways look.

“I don’t know, Percy, I feel like I’ve known you for…”

Forever.

Annabeth trailed off, her brain catching up to the words tumbling out. “For longer than two months,” she finished.

Percy was silent, and Annabeth snuck a glance at him. His gaze was cast down on the path, but a small smile played at his lips. Then, he abruptly looked up at her.

“I agree.”

“What”

He shrugged. “Yeah, I mean it’s got to have been at least three months, wouldn’t you say?”

A dimple appeared as his smile grew. Annabeth let out a relieved laugh, Percy’s humor once again rescuing her from thinking too deeply about her words.

Suddenly the trees thinned, and Percy and Annabeth stopped beside Leo and Piper. They stood at the edge of a large clearing, at the center of which a massive flame soared towards the sky above, sparks flying up like stars. The scene around it was hard to describe.

Firelight cast a flickering warm light across the sea of costumed teenagers. A huge speaker connected to a car battery sat in the corner, its bass thundering like a heartbeat through the night. Annabeth’s eyes scanned the crowd, her eyes landing on a group of cheerleaders dressed as vampires as they posed in front of the fire. The soccer team, half of them shirtless and painted like skeletons, were shouting beside a keg someone had smuggled in. Closer to the trees were couples sneaking into the shadows, their whispered conversations lost under the music. The night air smelt of burning wood, damp leaves, beer, and cheap candy.

“Hey, look who it is! Jackson!”

A chorus of shouts followed the first, and Annabeth realized the soccer team had spotted them. Leo, who was already shouting back enthusiastically, clapped Percy on the back and began walking over. Percy followed, and with one last look over his shoulder, he disappeared into the fray.

“They’ll keep him busy,” said Piper, scanning the crowd. “Come on!”

She gestured towards a table covered in snacks across from them, and the coolers beside it. Annabeth joined her, curious what they would find.

Hazel hung back. “I think we’re going to find somewhere to sit if that’s okay,” she said, still nursing the cider in her hands. Beside her, Frank seemed more than content to stay on the outskirts as he stared hopefully at a nearby log.

“Definitely, we’ll catch you later!” Annabeth assured her with a smile. However, when she and Piper turned and dove into the crowd, she clapped a hand over her mouth. “That’s practically a date.”

“I know!” Piper agreed gleefully, glancing back at the pair. “I really hope they work out. Hazel deserves it.”

Piper led the way through the throng of people, carefully dodging around wings and stumbling bodies. Still, they barely made it fifteen feet before getting intercepted. Drew Tanaka, dressed in white with gold bangles up and down her arms, swayed slightly as she focused on them.

“Annabeth!!!” Her voice was high-pitched and much friendlier than usual, if a bit muffled by the hot crowd. She lurched forward and threw her arms around Annabeth’s neck. “You came! Oh my god, it’s so good to see you outside of that stupid plant class.”

Annabeth pushed her off, gently patting her back. “Hi Drew, yeah…environmental science, right?”

Drew scrunched her face, waving away Annabeth’s question and instead gesturing to her costume. “What are you dressed as?”

“We’re Rachel and Monica from Friends.”

Drew’s eyes slid to Piper when she spoke, as if processing her presence for the first time. “Ugh, that is so cute,” she muttered, almost sounding annoyed. Then she gestured to her own costume, tugging at her intricately braided hair. “I’m Aphrodite, in case you couldn’t tell.”

As Piper and Annabeth nodded and complimented her outfit, a group of girls approached Drew from behind. They began tugging her away, stumbling nearly as much as Drew herself, who mumbled a goodbye before getting hauled off. “Happy Halloween! We should totally hang out sometime!”

Piper grimaced at her retreating figure. “That costume tracks.”

“Well, I’m not surprised. She’s never been very humble,” Annabeth responded. “Remember when she made everyone say their least favorite thing about each other on our freshman retreat?”

Piper snorted. “Oh my god, yeah. As ‘constructive criticism.’ That was just evil.”

When they finally made it to the food table, Piper and Annabeth found it covered in an assortment of Halloween-themed cookies and deserts, chips, and oranges with googly eyes stuck on the skin, to name a few. There were also ghost and bat-themed Jell-O shots. They both tried one of each, and then a few more.

As the moon rose in the sky, the fire burned brighter and higher. Somehow Piper and Annabeth ended up in a wheelbarrow race, with Piper walking forward on her hands and Annabeth holding her feet. They didn’t win, collapsing on top of one another in a fit of laughter when they finally crossed the finish line.

As the night progressed, Piper wound up dragging Annabeth to the speaker, ready to complain to whoever was in charge about why they hadn’t played Thriller. Annabeth followed obediently, but took her cue to leave after three minutes of awkwardly standing behind Piper as she spoke with the girl who’s speakers were being used. When she left, Piper had just been invited to help her create a new mix.

Annabeth’s feet felt light as she made her way towards the fire in the center. Taking care to sit a good distance from the keg, Annabeth settled on one of the many logs surrounding the flames. She stared at the sparks as they disappeared into the sky, following them as long as she could before they winked out. The world around her seemed to dissolve into a slow, unsteady spin, like the lazy turn of a carousel she couldn’t quite get off.

Annabeth was so focused on the top of the flames that she didn’t notice someone had taken a seat next to her.

“How’s your night going?”

Annabeth jumped, swinging her head sideways to see Percy sitting on the log beside her. He didn’t look much worse for wear, if a little disheveled.

“Chandler!” she exclaimed, poking his arm. “I see you extricated yourself from the team. How many keg stands did they make you do?”

“Just one,” he responded, closing his eyes momentarily. “It’s not really my style.”

“Oh, so you did do one! I knew it.”

He rubbed his forehead, appearing somewhat distressed.“Well, if I hadn’t done it Leo was prepared to try for a fourth.”

“Still counts.”

“Can we move on?”

He stared at her until Annabeth inevitably laughed. “Great. So what have you been up to?”

Annabeth waved her hands vaguely, trying to concentrate. “Everything. Piper and I wandered around, and we ran into some old friends. Well, maybe not. Oh, then we were in a wheelbarrow race–we didn’t win. I left Hazel with the DJ, I’m not sure where she is now…” She trailed off, craning her neck in the direction she’d come from.

“The race sounds fun,” Percy responded, unfazed by her jumbled explanation.

Annabeth nodded in the affirmative. “Definitely.” She'd just opened her mouth to ask if Percy had seen Frank and Hazel when a flurry of movement in front of her caught her attention.

A girl dressed in an elaborately bloodstained green gown stood in front of them, her flaming curly red hair creating a striking halo around a face decorated with pale, haunting makeup. When she gestured at the stump across from them, she revealed hands that were bloody and red.

“Is anyone sitting here?” Her voice was slightly raspy, with an almost musical lilt.

Annabeth shook her head. “It’s all yours.”

As the girl sat down, she tossed a red lock of hair out of her face, cracking her neck from side to side. Then she abruptly focused on Annabeth, who had been curiously observing.

“I’m Rachel Elizabeth Dare. I don’t know if you remember me, we had an art class together our freshman year.”

Slowly, recognition dawned on Annabeth. “Oh sure, I remember! Drawing and design.”

“Exactly! With Mrs. Cleveland, she was so much fun.” Rachel beamed before turning to Percy. “And you are? I don’t think we’ve met.”

Annabeth marveled at her polite introduction while Percy explained how he’d only just transferred this year. As her eyes traveled over Rachel’s intricate costume, she noted the medieval style and prop knife strapped at the waist.

“Are you dressed as Lady Macbeth?” Annabeth blurted out, impressed.

Rachel nodded. “I am! I made the costume myself, actually.” She plucked up a portion of her skirt, running the fabric between her hands. “I found this dress when I was working on costumes for the fall play, and Mrs. Dunwit was more than happy to give it to me. The rest was pretty simple.”

“It’s incredible,” Annabeth murmured, and she meant it. Rachel looked like she’d stepped out of another time, and Annabeth found herself just a little unnerved by the realism.

Rachel gestured at the two of them. “Who are you dressed as?”

“We’re Monica and Chandler,” Percy explained, looking down at their costumes.

“Oh, of course! You two look great, just like them if they swapped hair colors…although I guess Chandler’s hair wasn’t quite as light as yours.”

Annabeth laughed. She hadn’t thought of that. Percy and Rachel’s voices faded to a steady hum of background noise as she stared at the flames, attempting to focus on the popping embers. Her head fell forward instead, and Annabeth blinked, sitting straighter for a moment. She tried to refocus on the conversation–Rachel seemed to be talking about some mural she was making–but exhaustion tugged at her. Without much thought, Annabeth tilted sideways, where she was met with Percy’s shoulder. It was the perfect height, solid and steady in comparison to how floaty she felt. Her cheek brushed against the soft fabric of his shirt and she closed her eyes, contentedly.

Somewhere, Percy faltered mid-sentence. “Annabeth, are you good?”

She didn’t bother opening her eyes. “Mm-hmm,” she hummed, her voice slightly muffled.

He didn’t shrug her off, and their conversation resumed. The darkness spun against Annabeth’s closed eyelids, spiraling and twisting. She tried to follow the movement and make some sense of it, but to no avail. Annabeth wasn’t sure how much time passed, but she was perfectly happy not to move.

“...have you been together?”

Rachel’s voice cut through the calm like a needle popping a balloon. Annabeth felt Percy’s shoulder tense under her, and her eyes snapped open as she processed Rachel’s last words. She forced herself to sit up, the firelight painfully bright.

“What?”

“I said, how long have you two been together?”

Annabeth’s heart thudded against her ribs as she stared at Rachel, the fire illuminating her curious expression. The sounds of the party seemed to drop away until all Annabeth could hear was the deafening silence between the three of them.

“Oh, we aren’t–that is, she isn’t–”

Percy spoke first, gesturing between the two of them and looking thoroughly confused at his own words and Rachels.

Annabeth shook her head, her mind suddenly painfully clear. “We’re just friends.”

Another silence. Then, a delicate shade of pink bloomed under Rachel’s white makeup. “Oh, I’m so sorry, I completely misread–” she gestured vaguely at the two of them. “Of course. Forget I said anything.”

Before any of them could figure out what to say next, Annabeth heard a familiar voice calling her name. She turned, scanning the crowd behind her.

“Annabeth? Annie, where are–oh!”

Piper emerged from the crowd, stumbling towards Annabeth with no concern for the flames between them. Before she could walk into harm's way, Percy jumped up and guided her to where they were sitting.

“Oh, you met Rachel! Hi Rachel,” Piper mumbled as she sat down beside Annabeth.

“Hi Piper,” Rachel said brightly. “Happy Halloween!”

She gestured behind her and addressed Percy and Annabeth. “I just spotted a friend, so I’m going to go say hi. It was lovely to meet you!”

They both stared at her retreating head of red hair, and then at each other. Piper, who sat in between them, made a face.

“What’s going on? Why do you guys look like that?”

Annabeth tore her eyes from Percy’s and sat down next to her friend, her head spinning again. “What? It’s nothing, we’re fine. What’s going on with you?”

As Annabeth analyzed her friend in the firelight, she noticed her cardigan was on inside out, and her makeup was smudged all across her face.

“Well, I hung out with Esme for a while, she’s the one in charge of the music. But then when I was coming to find you–” Annabeth was dismayed to see Piper’s face scrunch into an expression of despair and annoyance “–I saw Jason and Reyna. And Annabeth, they were dressed as Padme and Anakin.”

Piper threw her head to the sky as she finished speaking, and Percy steadied her when she began to tilt backward precariously.

Annabeth exhaled and stood, tugging on Piper’s hands. “Okay, I think it’s time for us to go.”

“But I wasn’t done telling you about their costume,” Piper complained, her words slurring.

“You can tell me on the way.”

Annabeth looked at Percy as she pulled Piper to her feet and slung her arm over her shoulder. “You’ll be okay here?”

He nodded, running a hand through his hair. “Will you?”

Annabeth swayed, realizing she’d been leaning sideways on Piper as much as Piper had been leaning on her. “We’ll be fine. It’s just…over that way.” She waved vaguely to the woods in the direction of the school.

Percy hesitated but seemed to think better of it. “Okay. I’ll make sure Leo gets back.”

He scanned the crowd, his gaze darting back and forth, searching for Leo’s familiar face. Annabeth should have been looking, too, but instead, she found herself staring at Percy. The firelight cast golden shadows across his face, catching on the curve of his cheek and bridge of his nose, and painting his hair golden and bronze. It was too dark to make out the collection of freckles she knew were scattered across his face, lighter now than they had been in September.

A sudden pressure on her shoulder brought Annabeth back to the present, where Piper was attempting to sit back down.

“No, no, we’re leaving. Happy Halloween Percy,” Annabeth managed, readjusting Piper’s arm around her neck. With one last glance at him, she began leading the way back to her dormitory.

“What was that about?” Piper asked as they reached the edge of the grass.

Annabeth frowned. “What do you mean?”

“You were looking at him funny.”

“Was not.”

“Were too!”

“You’re drunk.”

Piper laughed hysterically. “So are you.”

Annabeth exhaled dramatically. “Rachel thought we were a couple.”

“Oh….”

“What do you mean, ‘oh’? Watch out, there’s a log.”

Piper blinked slowly as Annabeth half lifted her over the tree covering their path. “I mean, I might too if I didn’t know you.”

Annabeth struggled to process Piper’s words, her thoughts bouncing like loose marbles around her head. Instead, she collapsed into a fit of giggles. It wasn’t long before Piper caught on, and their progress slowed even more as they struggled to walk through their laughter.

When they finally arrived at the steps of their building, Annabeth’s stomach hurt, and tears of mirth streaked her cheeks. She extracted their key and pushed Piper through the door, whispering for her to be quiet.

It took another effort to climb three flights of stairs, and by the time they reached their room, both girls were exhausted. Annabeth only bothered to kick off her shoes before she climbed on top of her covers and hugged a pillow. The last thing she remembered was bidding Piper good night.

“‘Night Rachel.”

“Night, Mon,” came the mumbled reply.

Chapter Text

Annabeth sat with her back to the fire. She was bent over her notebook, a calculator held slack in her left hand and scribbling furiously with her right. Every so often she stood to prod the fire, poking the coals and adding another log before returning to her seat on the edge of the carpet. Hazel, also on the floor, sat directly across from Annabeth, golden firelight flickering across her face as she flipped haphazardly through a Latin dictionary. On the cushy armchair beside them, Leo was typing furiously.  

Annabeth was nearly done with her last problem set when Hazel sighed and shut her dictionary. Leo’s typing stopped as she cracked her neck side to side, and then did the same to her spine. 

“Finish your translation?” he asked. 

“Sort of. It’s not my best, but I’m sick of working on it,” she replied, sending an accusatory glance at her notebook. 

Leo’s eyes gleamed as he looked pointedly at Annabeth. “Maybe Frank can look it over.” 

“I should ask him,” Hazel responded thoughtfully, oblivious to Leo’s gleeful expression. 

Annabeth raised her eyebrows at him. “Aren’t you better at Latin than he is?” she asked Hazel.

Leo glared at her. “It couldn’t hurt to have another set of eyes.” 

Hazel glanced up and they both schooled their expressions. “I’ll ask him tomorrow,” she resolved, sounding pleased. 

Leo sent a gleeful look at Annabeth. After a moment, he spoke again. “I mean, you two seem to really get on well.” 

Hazel hummed in agreement, focused on gathering her pens into their case. 

“I mean, he’s pretty introverted, I was surprised how much he wants to see you.” 

She’d moved on to her notebooks, packing them neatly away into her bag. “Well, yeah, we’re friends. He’s easy to talk to.” 

“Easy to talk to, huh? So do you ever talk about, like… future plans?”

Hazel’s eyebrows scrunched. “What do you mean?” 

“You know, a house, a cat, a nice garden out front, maybe some little feet running around the yard…” 

Annabeth froze, unable to disguise the incredulous snort she let out. She glanced at Hazel, whose cheeks had turned a deep shade of red.

“What? Leo, what are you–why would you say that?” she asked, her voice unusually high-pitched. 

Leo spun his pencil between his fingers. “Just calling it like I see it. You know I’m a romantic.” 

Hazel rushed to stand up, flapping her hands and looking thoroughly discombobulated. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Frank and I don’t feel…like that about each other.”

“Uh-huh.” 

“I’m serious!” she cried, with more force than Annabeth anticipated. “Don’t bring it up again, Leo.” 

With that, Hazel snatched up her bag and marched out of the common room. 

Annabeth waited for her back to disappear up the stairs before rounding on Leo. He looked at her sheepishly, clearly proud of himself. “She definitely likes him.” 

Annabeth sighed. “You shouldn’t have done that. You know she hates being asked about that stuff.” 

“I didn’t think she’d react that much,” he protested, his eyebrows creasing the tiniest bit. 

“Well, you should’ve known better anyway. Making both of them uncomfortable won’t do anything!” 

Leo sighed. “Fine.” 

Satisfied, Annabeth returned to her problem set. 

Leo was quiet for a beat, but it didn’t last long. “Okay but come on, you saw her reaction, right? I can’t be the only one.” 

Annabeth’s pencil stilled on the page. She hesitated for only a moment before glancing up and nodding curtly. 

Leo threw his hands in the air. “ Thank you, Annabeth! See, I knew you were with me on this. We have a sixth sense for these things. Honestly, let’s help them out, maybe I’ll ask Frank how he feels about porch swings…” 

“You’re terrible,” said Annabeth, though the smirk tugging at her lips betrayed her. “Just let them be.” 

Leo huffed, but after spinning once in his chair he returned to his laptop. Annabeth did the same, working through the end of her problem set and taking extra care to check her answer. When she was satisfied, Annabeth gathered her things. 

Leo watched her stand up. “Come on, are you abandoning me too?” 

“I’m afraid so,” said Annabeth. “How close are you to being done?” 

Leo sighed, stretching his arms behind his neck. “Not far. I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

Annabeth nodded. “‘Night, Leo.” 

As she wove through the common room to the hall, Annabeth suspected Leo was surprised by her early retreat. Usually, the two of them were some of the last to go to bed, seeing as they both were regularly swamped with work. This week was no different, except that Annabeth had agreed to take part of the night off and see a movie with Piper.

She rounded the corner into the hall and promptly collided with someone. Annabeth jumped back, an apology on her lips, but the someone was wearing a familiar knitted sweater, carpenter pants, and had a head of wild brown hair that Annabeth would recognize anywhere. 

“ There you are, I was just coming to find you!” Piper exclaimed. “Are you ready to go?” 

Annabeth straightened her shirt. “In a minute, seeing as you just barreled into me!” 

Piper smirked. “Oh please, you’re fine. Hurry up and grab your things, it’s started snowing!”

“Really?” she asked, glancing around for an open window. “Did they salt the roads?” 

“Probably not, which is why we need to go!” Piper responded, shooing Annabeth up the stairs as she spoke. 

Annabeth took the stairs two at a time. Back in her dorm, she dropped off her bag and pulled on her jacket and boots. She even stuck a pair of mittens and a hat in her pockets, just in case the car broke down and she and Piper got stranded on the side of the road. You could never be too careful. 

Piper met Annabeth at the bottom of the stairs, and they set off towards her car. A blanket of snow was just beginning to accumulate on the branches as soft, large snowflakes fell lazily to the ground. 

In the parking lot, Annabeth ducked behind a car and gathered a handful of snow in her hands, launching it at Piper. It hit her square in the back, and she immediately packed a handful herself, which Annabeth narrowly avoided by sprinting to the next car. She and Piper gradually made their way down the lot, taking turns throwing snow at each other and hiding behind the parked vehicles, whooping when they hit one another. They were both out of breath by the time they scrambled into the car. 

A poorly–or perfectly–aimed snowball had hit Annabeth square in the face, and the hair framing her cheeks was wet with melted snow. She pushed the pieces behind her ears while they waited for the car to heat up. 

“You’ll pay for that,” Annabeth assured Piper with a sideways glance. “Don’t think this is over.” 

Piper giggled. “Oh don’t worry, I don’t.” She impatiently prodded the buttons on the dashboard. “Are you sure the heat’s on?” 

Annabeth swatted her hand away. “I’m sure. Buckle your seatbelt.” 

They pulled out of the parking lot and down the main road, heading for the gates. The snow muffled the sound of the tires, and the buildings were stoic and silent around them, illuminated only by streetlamps and the beam of their headlights. Annabeth drove slowly on the gravel, which hadn’t been plowed, and waited to accelerate until they reached the main highway. 

Piper tucked one foot under her. “Annabeth?” 

“Hmm?” 

“Can we revisit Halloween? We never really quite talked about it.” 

Annabeth’s stomach swooped, as it had developed a tendency to do every time she remembered that night. “What about it?” 

“Well, what happened with you and Percy? It took a minute for you two to get back to normal after that.” 

Annabeth swallowed. Piper wasn’t wrong, she hadn’t quite been herself around Percy at first after the misunderstanding with Rachel. 

“I didn’t think you noticed,” she began. “I guess I was still a little thrown about what Rachel said. When she thought…” 

“That you were a couple,” Piper finished. 

Annabeth nodded. Then she shrugged her shoulders. “Well, and also what you said.” 

“That you look like a couple?” 

“Well, not exactly, that you might’ve made the same mistake if you didn’t know me!” Annabeth’s voice was incredulous, and she fought to keep it from becoming accusatory. “I mean, why is that?” 

Piper rubbed her palm down her face, laughing. “Well, if I had to pick one thing…I’d say how physical you are with him.” She waved her hand. “For you, that is.” 

“Okay, but–”

“–I know that you aren’t a very touchy person. It took almost a year and a half for you to not get all tense if I hugged you. But with him…”

Annabeth stared at the yellow lines disappearing under the car and drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, feeling uncertain. 

“Piper,” she said finally, “ You know my parents weren’t affectionate. The most I ever got from my dad was an occasional hug, usually in company, or if he had to carry me somewhere because I refused to go. And my stepmom, she never touched me at all. She didn’t tie my shoes, or braid my hair, or hug me goodnight. It never felt natural for me.” She glanced at Piper, searching for any reaction. There was none. “It was like a skill I had to learn with you, does that make sense? And I guess with Percy, I’ve just…gotten better.” 

They were silent, with only the sound of the wind rushing past the car in the air. Eventually, Piper spoke. 

“You’ve gotten better…” 

Annabeth nodded.

“So Rachel wasn’t reading into anything?” 

Annabeth’s heart thumped at Piper’s words. For a second, she could smell the smoke of the fire again, feel Percy’s shirt against her cheek. She shook her head and turned on the windshield wipers, swiping snow away with the thought. “Of course not. He’s my friend, it’s not like that.” 

Piper nodded, she’d expected Annabeth’s answer. “Okay.”

The snow was falling thicker and faster than when they’d left, and the pine trees racing past them in the dark were frosted with an ever-growing blanket of snow. Annabeth watched them as she drove, considering their conversation. The truth was, she couldn’t blame her friend for asking. Piper knew her better than anyone, even Hazel. 

Still, there was no way to get around it. It somehow didn’t matter how many friends Annabeth made, or how many times Piper laid a head on her shoulder and linked their arms. Annabeth didn’t know how to be loved. She was scared to initiate friendship, stiffened from a casual hug, failed in moments when her friends needed comfort. It ate her alive, but she didn’t know how to change. 

And yet. Percy was different, an anomaly she couldn’t explain. Ever since that night in September, he had subconsciously become a source of comfort to her. She didn’t think twice about squeezing shoulder to shoulder on his dorm bed to watch a movie, or poking him when he messed up their lab work, or apparently even grabbing his hand in a haunted house. The invisible barrier that hovered between herself and everyone else, with him, had dissolved. 

Much to her horror, Annabeth’s eyes began to sting. She blinked furiously, trying to think about anything other than how with Percy she’d somehow gotten past one of her deepest points of insecurity. 

“Piper, how’s astronomy going?” she asked desperately. 

Her friend looked up at her, surprised. “Really?”

“Yeah, tell me. I know you were excited about that class.”

Annabeth let her mind drift as Piper happily launched into an explanation of star and planetary evolution (“Did you know that your horoscope is actually wrong, because we don’t account for planetary tilt?”). Slowly, the trees on the side of the road turned to houses and businesses, and they found themselves on Main Street. When the sparkling lights of the theater appeared, Annabeth drove around to the back and parked. 

Inside, Annabeth lined up for tickets, while Piper went and ordered their usual snacks–chocolate-covered almonds for Annabeth, a cherry coke for Piper, and mozzarella sticks to share. The movie they’d chosen to see was a showing of Paris, Texas. 

Piper was chattering behind Annabeth as she led the way up to the theater via a narrow stairway that smelled faintly of popcorn and dust. The place was old, but in a charming way, lending it character. Near the top, Annabeth stepped aside to let another viewer pass by before she and Piper found their seats. 

They settled in, side by side in the dark. Dazzling views of the American southwest flashed across the screen, accompanied by a mournful guitar plucking a backtrack. Annabeth tried hard to get lost in the story, and not draw comparisons between herself and Hunter Henderson. 

                                                            ————————————————————

Percy felt weightless. Icy air rushed past his face and blew his hair back as he sprinted forward, a soccer ball dancing between his feet. His green eyes scanned the moving web of players circling one another, searching for an open pair of feet.

There . 

Across the field, Jason broke away from the yellow-clad defender guarding him. Percy pulled his foot back, preparing to make a well-aimed strike.  

A second before he made contact, Percy pitched forward, the grass rushing up to meet him. He winced as he made contact with the ground, falling awkwardly on his wrist. As a shrill whistle pierced the air, Percy looked up just in time to see Carson Vale smirk at him before throwing his arms up and turning towards the approaching referee. 

Percy stood impatiently, brushing grass off his shorts. Jason jogged over, his expressions stoic. 

“Are you good? That one looked like it hurt.” 

Percy nodded shortly, squinting at the ongoing discussion between Carson and the referee. “Yeah, thanks.” 

Leo’s indignant voice rang over the loudspeakers, blending with the sound of the crowd, which was much larger than usual. It was the section’s final game, meaning that one team would advance to state, while the other’s season would end. Percy wasn’t well versed in the rivalry between Cunningham and Riverside, but he sensed it ran pretty deep. 

As things stood ten minutes before the half, Cunningham was ahead by one goal, two to Riverside’s one. The first was the result of a lofty cross from Percy to Wagner, like the one Carson had just prevented him from sending towards Jason. The second Percy scored himself. 

He jogged back up the field as the whistle sounded and play resumed. Carson's blonde head of hair drifted in his peripheral vision, and Percy took care to avoid his gaze. As tempting as it was to knock him upside the head, he knew nothing would irk Carson more than beating him on the field. Percy had always been better, something they both knew. 

He ran backward, his gaze following a high-flying ball headed straight for him. Trapping it under his foot, he only maintained possession for a second before passing it away again. Feeling Carson’s chest hit his back, Percy turned and shoved him away. 

“Back the hell off,” he managed, his annoyance getting the best of him. 

Carson’s laugh was cold. “Just getting even, Jackson. You know I had a black eye for a week?”

“Good,” Percy spat, turning away. He sucked in a deep breath, focusing on the cool air traveling to his lungs and reigning in his flaring temper. 

After Percy’s first goal, Carson had spent enough time arguing with the referee that it was off-sides that he’d earned a yellow card. Since then, he’d resorted to fouling Percy left and right, and given Carson’s fearless commitment to violating the rules, Percy was unable to evade him as he had for the first half hour of the game. It was incredibly annoying, and Percy was finding it harder by the minute to resist retaliation.

With five minutes left before the half, Percy found himself sprawled on the ground twice more. Really, it was an inspiring performance, he thought bitterly as he walked to the sideline. Glancing down, he saw his arms were streaked with green stains. 

Jason found Percy on the bench, and handed him a Gatorade bottle as he sat down. “What’s going on with you two? He’s trying to kill you out there.” 

Percy stared straight ahead, helping himself to the water Jason had brought. Across the field, his eyes had landed on a curly blonde ponytail among the stands. Annabeth stood with her arms crossed, flanked by Piper and Hazel, all three of them glaring at the Riverside team. 

“We went to the same soccer camp for years. Never got along.” 

Jason shook his head dismissively. “I already knew that. What else?” 

A muscle ticked in Percy’s jaw. “We got into an altercation this fall, at a house party.” 

“I see.” 

“Yeah.” 

“What happened?” 

Percy bent, readjusting his shin guards. “Not much. He threw his drink at me, and I punched him.”

Jason huffed. “I didn’t take you as the type. You must’ve really left a mark for him to be acting like this.”

Percy just shrugged, not over-enthusiastic to get into the bitter details. 

“Alright, listen. If he keeps this up, he’ll be thrown out. Honestly, I’m surprised he hasn’t gotten another yellow already. Just remember you’ve got to stay calm, don’t retaliate, and don’t get injured. We need you for State.” 

Percy glanced up at him, grinning. “I was under the impression you’d be happy to not share the spotlight, especially at the state competition…” 

Jason bumped Percy’s shoulder, rolling his eyes. “You assist on probably eighty percent of my goals. I need you to make me look good.” 

Percy laughed, but his response was cut off by their coach calling them over. He and Jason hopped up and jogged over to the others, where the team was huddled and receiving strategy and a pep talk for the second half. 

As everyone ran back onto the field, Percy’s name was called out. He turned back towards his coach. 

Mr. Reynolds stuck his hands in his vest pockets as he spoke. “Jackson, a word? I don’t know what's going on with their defender, but you’re handling it well. He’ll get carded again if he keeps this up, so wait for that and don’t retaliate. You understand?” 

Percy nodded. “Yes sir.” 

“Alright. Keep it up.” 

Percy was sent on his way with a firm clap on the back. Jogging back onto the field, he took his place to the right of Jason and scanned the crowd again for Annabeth, only to find her resolutely staring at him. It was too far to read her exact expression, but she looked highly concentrated. He instinctively smiled at her before refocusing on the game. 

Immediately, Percy realized that Carson’s yellow card from the first half had not deterred him. As he found himself yanked back by a tug on the jersey for the third time, a cheap foul the refs rarely caught, Percy concluded that if anything, it had in fact made Carson even worse. 

Every time he gained possession, Percy was forced to pass the ball away almost immediately. There was nothing he could do with Carson breathing down his neck. 

“My mistake, man,” Carson sneered after sending Percy sprawling forward on the grass. “I try not to hit people on purpose.” 

He pointed at his own cheek as he backed away. Percy bristled, looking incredulously at the nearest referee, who gave Percy the ball back and signaled for play to resume. He kicked it forward to Jason and jogged down the field. 

Taking a deep breath, he focused on letting his frustration go, imagining it all rolling off him like water. For the first time in seventeen minutes, Carson had fallen back, lingering in his defensive position, and Percy could feel the cool air wash over him without hearing labored breathing behind him. 

Finally relaxing into the familiar rhythm of the game, Percy began focusing on trying to score again, rather than avoiding breaking his neck. He tracked the movement of the ball as it traveled up and down the pitch, neither team maintaining possession for very long. 

Then, the ball was tossed up from outside their own goal box, and cleared toward the middle. Jason was ready, trapping it under his foot and taking off down the field. Percy raced down the field to his right, but Jason passed it to the other wing, where Wagner was waiting. Seeing an opportunity, Percy threw his arm up, hoping his teammate would see him. 

He did. A perfectly timed ball soared towards the center of the field, landing near the right corner where Percy was waiting. This was it. Capturing the ball with his right foot, Percy turned, and came face to face with Carson. 

He kept moving. Feigned right before dodging around to the left, cutting through the inside. Percy searched for an opening as he approached the goalie box, prepared to shoot. 

He was suddenly sent flying to the side, his teeth clattering in his skull as Carson’s shoulder crashed into his chest. Percy flew towards the ground, landing at an odd angle on his wrist. 

His ears rang, both from the contact and the shrill whistle blaring across the field. Percy gingerly sat up, testing his arm. Nothing seemed broken. 

Carson leaned over, peering at Percy like he was admiring his work. “That’s for giving me a black eye for a week. And speaking of, you really shouldn’t have interrupted." He tilted his head, a twisted smile on his face. " She wasn’t complaining.” 

Percy’s entire body went numb. The sound of the crowd dimmed as blood rushed through his ears, and any semblance of restraint snapped. Suddenly he was on his feet, moving without thinking. He launched himself at Carson, shoving him back as hard as he could 

Carson stumbled back, off balance. When he fell, he grabbed Percy’s arm and dragged him to the ground, too. They landed in a tangled heap on the ground, but Percy was on top. He wasted no time, crawling off Carson. 

Moving to stand, Percy drove his knee into Carson’s chest with as much force as possible. He gasped, and the tears sparking in his eyes told Percy the reaction was genuine. 

Now it was his turn to stare down at Carson, his eyes flashing with unchecked anger. A small group of players had gathered around them, and Percy registered the referee shouting. He was brandishing a yellow card, and for a moment Percy wondered which of them it was for. Then, the referee pulled out a red card, covering the first yellow. 

For Carson, then. His second yellow in one game. He was gone. 

Before Percy could feel any excitement, he heard his own name being called from the sideline. Turning, he saw Coach Reynolds gesturing at him, his face drawn. 

“Jackson! Off. Now.” 

Percy was breathing heavily, his whole body humming with adrenaline. With one last glance at Carson, who was still curled on the ground, he went to the sideline. 

Reaching the bench, Percy sat down, running a hand through his damp hair. There was no point arguing. 

Heavy, deliberate footsteps approached, and Percy looked up to find Coach Reynolds standing in front of him.

“What the hell happened out there?” He paused, as if waiting for a response, but Percy knew he didn’t actually want one.  “I told you, keep your head down. Let him foul. He got thrown out, just like we knew he would, and you let yourself be collateral damage. The scoreboard shuts guys like him up!” 

Percy exhaled through his nose, searching for an explanation. He deserved it? That wouldn’t fly. He went after Annabeth? Certainly not; that was personal, and Reynolds didn’t care about personal. 

“I lost my temper,” he said finally, unable to come up with a better explanation. “I’m sorry.”

Coach Reynolds scoffed. “Yeah, no kidding.” He rubbed his forehead. “You’re one of our best players, Jackson. But you let him take you off the field. You let him win.” 

Percy swallowed hard. He knew that, and he hated it. 

He watched from the bench as the game carried on without him, Walter Geist subbed into his position. They were still outpacing Riverside, but it wasn’t comfortable. He should’ve been out there, helping them close it out. 

A movement from the stands caught Percy’s eye, and he picked out Annabeth, who stood with her arms crossed. The stadium lights cast a glow over her face, illuminating an unreadable expression. He wondered what she was thinking; if she was angry, if she somehow understood why he’d snapped, if she was disappointed. 

But sparing a glance at Carson, who was lying on the grass with an ice pack pressed to his ribs, Percy had the absurd urge to duck his head and laugh. 

                                                        ————————————————————

Annabeth had completely disregarded the game. From her spot on the bleachers, she had a straight line of vision to the Cunningham bench, where Percy had been sitting for the past twelve minutes. 

She wasn’t sure exactly what Carson had said to make Percy lash out, but she had a terrible inkling that it related to her. And Annabeth hated the idea of being used to get to Percy. 

Carson had been a prick the whole game, and she was quite indignant that the referees had let him carry on for so long. So, when Percy had turned and shoved Carson away from him, she didn’t gasp like Hazel, or curse like Piper. She just watched. 

Watched as Carson flopped to the ground like he’d been hit by a freight train. Saw him drag Percy down at the same time. Understood when Percy retaliated by driving his knee into Carson’s ribs. 

The whistle had been sharp and damning. Both boys got thrown out, one by the referee and the other by principal. The Cunningham student section, for what it was worth, had vehemently defended Percy the entire match, shouting whenever he was fouled and outraged with their own coach for withdrawing him. They were well aware of his value. 

Although play resumed, Annabeth had been watching Percy intently since he’d gotten withdrawn. At the moment, he sat slumped on the bench, occasionally running a hand through his hair and bouncing his leg. Even from a distance, Annabeth could clearly detect the tension in his shoulders. 

Next to her, Piper wasn’t watching the game either. Instead, she was glaring daggers at where Carson lay with his ice pack. 

“Do you think he’s being a baby about it, or did Percy really injure him?” she asked, tilting her head sideways. 

Hazel looked at him appraisingly. “A little of both, I’d assume.” 

“Since he got thrown out for it, I hope it does,” Annabeth added. She spared him a glance, but looking at him for extended periods tended to make her skin start to crawl. He wasn’t worth a shred of her attention. 

Piper nodded in agreement, her arms crossed. If Annabeth didn’t know her so well, she’d be worried Piper was going to kill him. 

Finally, the final whistle sounded, declaring Cunningham victorious with their two-to-one lead. The field erupted into motion–players celebrating, coaches shouting, and the stands a blur of movement as spectators spilled onto the grass. 

Annabeth immediately began moving down the bleachers, with Piper in tow. They pushed onto the field and wove their way across to the opposite sideline, Annabeth searching for Percy in the crowd. 

As they crossed the sideline, Percy came into view. He was sitting in the same position, smiling at teammates who patted him on the back or ruffled his hair, but clearly discontent. Annabeth hesitated for half a second before making her way over to him. 

“Percy?” 

He looked up when she spoke, and Annabeth was struck again by how very green his eyes were. He looked angry, disappointed, and maybe a little bit withdrawn to her. She decided to try for some humor. 

“You think you left a bruise?” 

Percy managed a small smile, but it dropped almost immediately. His expression soured as he seemed to consider an answer. 

“I figure it did, yeah.” 

Annabeth was silent for a moment, her expression serious. “He was being a real jackass to you, Percy. I don’t know what exactly finally flipped the switch, but I want you to know I don’t blame you for retaliating. I would’ve done the same.” 

Percy tilted his head up to the clouds. “I don’t feel bad. But I wish I hadn’t gotten myself–” he sighed, frustrated, and gestured up and down at himself. 

“But you still won. He’s out, and you had a hand in both of our goals. You’d practically already won it for us by the time you got pulled out.” 

Percy rubbed a hand down his cheek, clearly exhausted. Annabeth knew nothing she said could alleviate the guilt and disappointment he was feeling, but she had to try. Seeing him like this made her throat tight. 

Percy opened his mouth, about to respond, but another voice cut through the silence first, loud and sharp. 

“Oh, shut up. ”

Annabeth’s head snapped up just in time to see Piper face-to-face with Carson. She’d punctuated her last two words with a harsh shove, sending him stumbling backward. 

Oh, no . 

Before Annabeth had time to move, Percy shot to his feet. She fell into step beside him as he rushed towards Piper. 

Carson had recovered quickly, his expression darkening and focused entirely on Piper. “What the hell is your problem?” 

“My problem? ” Piper’s voice was sharp, vibrating with fury. “My problem is that no one’s decked you yet.” 

Carson’s expression shifted, amusement flickering behind his eyes. “What, are you volunteering?” 

Piper’s eyes flashed and she lunged forward, grabbing his collar and yanking him towards her. They were nose to nose. “I guess I am.” 

In one sharp, fluid motion, she drove her knee up. Carson barely had time to react before it connected square between his legs. 

He let out a strangled noise, his smug expression vanishing as he doubled over, eyes squeezed shut in pain.  

Shouts erupted from the crowd around them, who finally seemed to realize what was happening. Someone rushed forward and wrapped their arms around Piper’s stomach, dragging her back. Annabeth vaguely registered it was Jason. 

Piper fought him, satisfaction in her eyes as she twisted back towards Carson, who was struggling to stay upright. “Oh,  my bad ,” she said, her voice artificially sweet. “You looked like you needed a reminder to keep your hands to yourself.” 

Jason didn’t give her another chance to swing. He yanked her back fully, dragging her away. Piper didn’t fight him, but she threw one last over her shoulder at Carson, still bent over with his hands on his knees. 

Annabeth and Percy took one look at each other before they took off. Percy reached the pair first and stepped in front of Jason as he half-dragged Piper toward the edge of the field. 

“We’ve got her,” he said, his breath still uneven. 

Jason didn’t let go immediately. “You sure?”

Annabeth had caught up, and she nodded. “Yeah. We’ll handle it.” 

Jason exhaled sharply but finally released Piper. She pulled her shirt straight, while Jason gave her a look somewhere between exasperation and admiration. 

“What’s your name?” 

She raised her eyebrows. “Piper.” 

He nodded. “Well, it’s been a pleasure to meet you, Piper,” Jason said, extending a hand. A small smile played on his lips. “Nice work back there.” With that, he turned and disappeared back into the crowd. 

The second he was gone, Percy turned to Piper. “What the hell was that?” 

Piper eyed him incredulously. “You saw what that was. And you, of all people, are in no position to criticize.”

Annabeth looked at Piper in disbelief, but she couldn’t stop the smile from creeping onto her face. 

“You’re unbelievable.” 

Piper crossed her arms. “Someone had to do it. It’s so sickening to see him walking around like nothing happened, with no repercussions. I can’t stand it.” 

Percy was quiet for a beat, but then his face split into a smile. “You just kneed a guy in broad daylight in front of half the school. You realize that, right?” 

Piper grinned. “I’d worked that bit out for myself, actually.”

Annabeth couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped her. She hooked her arm around Piper’s and squeezed. “Let’s just go before someone decides to come looking for us.” 

Piper nodded, looking pleased with herself, and the three of them slipped away from the field together. 

                                                   ————————————————————

Later, when Annabeth popped her head over the roofline, she saw that Percy was already there. 

“You’re early,” she remarked, hauling herself the rest of the way up. 

Percy watched her roll over on the tile, a smile on his face. “So are you.” 

“Well, I always am,” she insisted, sitting up and walking over to where he was sitting. “You aren’t.”

He just shook his head, conceding the point. Percy was wearing a puffy black jacket and gloves, and in the fading light, she could make out the redness on his cheeks from the cold. Annabeth was wearing the same, with the addition of a wool hat–the steadily dropping temperatures and ice accumulating on the storm drain had significantly decreased her number of trips to the roof. 

“So, how’s everyone else?” she asked, sitting beside him and curling her hands around her knees. 

Percy nodded towards the boy's common room, whose illuminated windows they could easily see. “They’re having a great time. Everyone’s really excited that we made it to state, even more that we beat Riverside to do it. I passed through on my way out here, and Piper’s become a bit of a legend.” 

Annabeth laughed, shaking her head. 

“How is she, by the way?” 

“Oh, she’s fine. Hazel gave her a piece of her mind, went on about how reckless it was, but she’s not really angry. You just can’t stay mad at Piper for long, especially for that.” 

Percy grinned, glancing sideways at her. “He had it coming.”

Annabeth squeezed her eyes shut as a gust of wind whipped through the air, washing over her face like ice. When she opened them, Percy’s hair had been blown straight back, looking so uncharacteristic in comparison to his normally messy hair that stuck every which way. 

“What?” Percy asked incredulously as Annabeth started laughing.

“I’m sorry, it’s just–your hair,” she managed, resisting the urge to ruffle it herself. “You look–”

“Oh, shut it,” Percy said, running a hand through it. “You’re bullying me.” 

“I am not! I didn’t even say it looked bad.” 

He gave her a pointed look. She pushed him gently with her shoulder, and he fell over theatrically, complaining. Annabeth rolled her eyes, refusing to help him sit back up despite his dramatic requests for assistance. 

They observed the night in silence for a minute once he sat back upright. Staring at the stars that began peeking through the darkness, Annabeth thought about the game, and she figured it was on Percy’s mind, too. 

“Will you tell me why Carson was so aggressive to you?” she asked finally, breaking the silence. 

“We’ve always clashed. I expected it,” he responded evenly, staring ahead. 

Annabeth thought back on the game, how Carson had trailed Percy everywhere, risking his own position just to bother him, and his willingness to be thrown out of the game altogether just to get under Percy’s skin. It didn’t add up. 

She shook her head. “It was more than that, Percy. I’ve never seen you two play each other, but I have a hard time believing he does that every game. What did he do?” 

A muscle ticked in his jaw, and Annabeth knew then she’d been right. There was something else. 

“You remember back in September, how I didn’t come straight outside to find you?” he said finally.

Annabeth nodded, surprised. 

Percy looked uncomfortable. “Well, it was because Carson was so pissed at me for interrupting, and I was so angry, that he threw his beer on me, and I ended up punching him. Other people intervened before anything got serious, but…” he trailed off, looking at her hesitantly. 

Annabeth’s eyebrows were furrowed over her wide eyes. She rubbed her hands up and down the sleeves of her jacket, processing what he’d said. All this time, Annabeth had thought she knew everything that happened that night. Punching someone else seemed so unlike anything the Percy she knew would do.

“So, today he was trying to get back at you?” she said slowly. 

“I guess so. I wasn’t going to let him, until–” Percy, suddenly cut himself off, looking away. 

“Until what?” 

Percy sighed. “You really want to know, don’t you.” 

She just stared at him expectantly, until he started talking again. 

“Fine. He brought the whole thing up, and he said I shouldn't have intervened because you were…enjoying it.” 

Annabeth's stomach turned. A slow, simmering anger grew in her, cold and steady. Carson had said that–thrown it in Percy’s face like some sick joke, like it hadn’t meant anything, as if Annabeth hadn’t fought. Like she was expendable, just a means to an end. 

And sitting there on the roof, in the freezing cold, Annabeth found herself at a loss for words. What could she say? She felt awful that Percy was involved at all, and that she was part of the reason he’d gotten pulled off. She hated that the whole thing happened, but her bitterness was outlined by an insistent sense of gratitude and appreciation for him. 

Annabeth scooted closer. Percy looked up at her, clearly expecting some other response, but instead, she hooked her left arm through his right, lacing their fingers together. 

“Are you mad?” he said softly, sounding unsure. 

Annabeth squeezed his hand. “How could I be mad?” 

Sitting there side by side, warmed by their linked arms, Annabeth had an important revelation: Percy Jackson was one of the best friends she’d ever had.

Chapter Text

Annabeth didn’t see much of Percy in the following weeks, as he was constantly caught up either practicing or traveling with the team to compete in the state tournament. Still, she caught him whenever he was back at school and had an hour to spare in between. Annabeth foolishly wondered if he sought her out more than his other friends.

Meanwhile, the rest of her classmates were looking forward to getting away for Thanksgiving break–from cruises to skiing trips to nights in the city, everyone was scattering to families and friends. Annabeth never had much to contribute to these conversations, but she nodded and smiled, and whoever was talking usually grew too excited to remember to ask what her plans were. 

Piper, in particular, was exasperated that her father had invited his significantly younger girlfriend along on their getaway to Egypt. 

“I mean, honestly, she might as well be my sister!” she exclaimed one night the week before break while Annabeth helped her pack. 

Annabeth murmured a noncommittal agreement, folding one of her friends' shirts into her suitcase. She’d do anything to visit Egypt, what with all of the history and architecture there, no matter who it meant going with. 

“I wish you could come,” Piper continued, as if she sensed Annabeth’s thoughts. “I really do. No idea why he’s so insistent on it being family only; it’s not like there are many of us. You are family.” 

Did that mean his girlfriend was soon to be her mother-in-law? Annabeth decided not to ask. 

“No, this is a trip for you to spend time with him. I wouldn’t want to interrupt,” she insisted instead. “And anyhow, I like it here when everyone’s gone. I can do whatever I want.” 

In all the years that Annabeth had spent at boarding school, which was most of her memorable life, she’d only been flown home for Thanksgiving once. After that first year, her father and stepmother–Helen–told her that it really didn’t make much sense to come home for Thanksgiving when she’d be returning in a few short weeks for Christmas, anyway. At the time, money had been tighter, so Annabeth didn’t question it. However, as the years passed, despite her father’s now tenured position as head of his department and significantly higher income, the sentiment hadn’t changed. 

Annabeth wasn’t the only one. There was always a handful of kids who stayed at school for the holidays, usually under unprecedented circumstances: family emergencies, international travel restrictions, and the like. There had only ever been one other student, a boy three years ahead of Annabeth, who stayed back with the same regularity as she did. They never spoke much, but Annabeth was under the impression he was orphaned. He probably assumed the same of her. 

In the absence of her fellow classmates, Annabeth quickly learned these breaks were the best opportunity she’d get to snoop around in places she wasn’t supposed to be. It started with simple expeditions into the boys’ dormitory, where she’d pad around their dark halls. There wasn’t much interesting there, just a slightly grimier version of the girls' wing, but its forbidden access made it exciting. As Annabeth got older, she expanded to things like climbing up the tall rafters in the library and looking down at the maze of bookshelves or exploring the old bell tower. The greatest discovery of all was her foray into the basement in eighth grade, when she discovered a network of tunnels connecting various buildings underground and found her way into the kitchen. The dark maze still made her pulse rush, even though she’d long familiarized herself with the underground web. 

Piper left on Thursday night, skipping her Friday classes. Annabeth helped drag her suitcase out to the car, shivering in the wind and regretting not grabbing her coat. 

“Promise to send me pictures of the monuments?” she asked with a smile. 

“Obviously! And I’ll have to tell you everything about Evelyn. I just hope she’s at least twenty-eight.” 

Annabeth shook her head at the ground. “Just remember, you’ll be seven hours ahead of me. If you call me at three in the morning, I’m not picking up.” 

Piper laughed, shutting the trunk of her car. Annabeth walked to the driver's side and gallantly opened her car door. Before Piper had a chance to sit down, she was pulled into a quick hug. 

“Have fun.” 

When Annabeth pulled back, Piper’s eyes were sparkling with happy surprise. She stuck a hand out and ruffled Annabeth’s hair, leaving her blond curls sticking every which way. “Look at you initiating a hug, Annie! Never thought I’d see the day. I guess I really should thank Percy.” 

Annabeth bristled, but her cheeks were pink as she pushed Piper towards her seat. “I don’t know what you think he has to do with this.” 

“You keep me updated on that!” Piper managed with a wink before being cut off as Annabeth shoved her door shut. As Piper drove away, a well-aimed snowball flew into her rear windshield. 

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Annabeth was becoming increasingly concerned by her reaction to Percy. She was always looking for an excuse to be around him, and on occasion was in a distinctly worse mood if he was too busy to see her. While her brain valiantly tried to chalk this up to an especially unique friendship, Annabeth knew in her heart that whatever she was feeling was foreign. 

Piper’s insinuations were growing harder and harder to shake off. Annabeth tried taking an analytical approach, recalling how she’d felt her sophomore year when she and Jeremy Winchester briefly dated, if you could even call it that. At first this was a comforting comparison, as her feelings at the time about Jeremy were utterly incomparable with her current emotions towards Percy. Unfortunately, this rationality quickly broke down seeing as the difference in question was that Annabeth had felt virtually nothing for the former. 

In the end, Annabeth subconsciously resolved to ignore whatever confusing feelings she had for Percy, and carry on as normal. She had no idea how he felt, and the thought of trying to find out made her feel sick with anxiety. Overwhelmingly, she thought, all signs pointed toward his feelings being strictly platonic. The thought of jeopardizing their closeness by acting on her changing emotions and making things awkward between them invoked a feeling quite near panic in Annabeth. 

One thing was for certain: Percy was a great source of comfort and solace to her, and as hard as that was to admit, it was true, meaning Annabeth was equally paralyzed at the thought of losing another person close to her. 

 After Piper had driven away, Annabeth marched back up to their dorm and very nearly ripped her hair out. It hadn’t helped that Piper credited Percy for Annabeth’s developing comfort with expressing physical affection. Because she was right–Annabeth, aside from tolerating Percy's instinctual habit to reassure his friends with physical contact, had come to enjoy it. She was honest enough to admit to herself that she’d begun seeking out excuses to touch him–ruffling his hair when she was annoyed, hugging him when they won a game of ping pong against Hazel and Frank, pulling him this way and that if he wasn’t keeping up with her.

Annabeth stopped pacing and stared at her reflection in the mirror. She had to get it together. 

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Hazel met up with Annabeth later that night for dinner. They perched in a corner at a high table, sitting on stools and laughing over their food. 

Hazel hit her pizza against her plate, the hollow sound demonstrating its staleness. She gazed at it critically. “I guess they’re just trying to get rid of all the food before we leave, and this is the last of it.” 

Annabeth glanced halfheartedly at her salad, which consisted of a few sad pieces of wilted lettuce and exactly two wrinkled cherry tomatoes, and agreed.

Hazel’s expression grew serious. “They won’t feed you this for the week, will you?”

Annabeth couldn’t help but laugh at her genuine concern. “No, they cook smaller meals and have us all eat it family dinner style.” 

Hazel nodded, slightly mollified. “Thank god. Do you know which teacher is staying back this year?”

Annabeth shook her head, and stabbed a wilted, floppy leaf. “No idea. I’m not even sure how they decide who does it. I doubt any of them want to.” 

Hazel returned to her pizza. When she was done, they wandered to the ice cream machine, only to be redirected to the hot chocolate by a piece of paper taped to the front reading “sorry, out of service” in a rushed scrawl. 

“Has Frank left yet?” Annabeth asked as they stood mixing marshmallows into their cups. She added a few chocolate chips to hers, as well. 

Hazel reached across Annabeth for a spoon. “Not yet, but he’s leaving pretty early tomorrow. So is Leo, right?” 

“I think his train is around six.” 

Hazel finished stirring her drink and set the spoon down. They began walking back to their table, slowly so as not to spill. 

“Will you be all alone once I leave?”

Annabeth shook her head. “No, Percy’s bus isn’t until Sunday morning, so I’ll have company for a few days.” She grimaced as hot chocolate spilled over the rim and onto her thumb. “Do you have a napkin?” 

Hazel handed one to Annabeth, her expression thoughtful. “Do you think he likes it here? Percy, that is. I can’t imagine it was easy to move all this way his senior year.” 

Annabeth considered the question. “I think he does. Leo’s here, and Percy’s switched schools before.” 

“And he met all of us,” Hazel added with a shrug. “Plus a great soccer season.”

“Yeah, that too,” Annabeth responded, smiling into her drink. “For what it’s worth, I’m happy he switched in.” 

Hazel sat back and stretched her arms above her.“Me too.”

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

On Friday afternoon, the sky was dark and overcast. In class, everyone was antsy, and the teachers had given up any hope of holding their students' attention. 

In between her last two classes, Annabeth hugged Hazel goodbye and sent her along with the rest of the departing students. Then she dashed back to her Latin class, only to find it was mostly empty. Aside from herself, only four other students hadn’t left yet, and so they were given a free period to whatever they liked, permitting they stay in the classroom. 

When she was finally released, Annabeth couldn’t help but grin as she left the building. She might not be going anywhere, but it was still Thanksgiving break. 

Annabeth felt lighter as she made her way back to her dormitory. She dumped her backpack in the corner and quickly pulled off her uniform, hanging her blazer in the closet and carefully folding her skirt to prevent wrinkles. Then she pulled on a pair of dark jeans and a finely knit sweater, and made her way back downstairs. 

All the rooms were remarkably empty, and the abrupt stillness was both unnerving and comforting. In the absence of students, Cunningham was without its beating heart, yet still displayed eternal and uninterrupted steadiness as a sanctuary for knowledge. With a pang, Annabeth was reminded that after the spring, she could never return to Cunnigham and find it the way it had always been since she was a child.

Annabeth made her way through the empty game room and headed down the hallway connecting their building to the boys' dormitory. A green carpet muffled her footsteps, while paintings and sculptures mounted on the wall were the only ones watching her pass. 

Annabeth reached the end of the hallway and moved further into the dark, wood-paneled rooms beyond. She passed one student who was dragging along a bag of laundry, but he barely spared her a glance. There was a back staircase that Annabeth usually used on her way to Percy’s room, but since the campus was all but abandoned, she took the main stairs. 

Standing in front of his door, Annabeth felt her pulse jump. She told herself it was only adrenaline from running up the steps, but her fingers pinched her left wrist all the same. It’s just Percy. 

He opened the door right away, a grin already on his face. “I thought it must be you.” 

She laughed. “Sorry.” 

“I don’t mind.”

 Percy stepped back so Annabeth could pass by. Her eyes fell on Leo’s bed, which was uncharacteristically well-made. 

“So Leo got out of here on time?” 

Percy grimaced. “Yeah, barely. His alarm didn’t wake him up, but it woke me up. I got a text from him that he made his train, though.” 

Annabeth nodded, hopping up on his bed and settling into her usual spot with her back against the wall. “Have you packed yet?” 

Percy shook his head. “I’ll do it tomorrow or Sunday. Shouldn’t take long.” 

He was rummaging in his closet as he spoke, emerging with a thermal long sleeve. With a start, Annabeth realized he was about to change. 

Percy was facing away from her, and didn’t seem to think twice before he unbuttoned his uniform shirt. 

“I’ll only be gone a week, and I just need to pack clothes, right? Should take me thirty minutes, tops.” 

Annabeth didn’t hear a word he was saying.

Percy shrugged out of his uniform shirt, revealing the lean muscles of his back. His movements were careless and casual, and he turned back to face Annabeth just as he tugged the longsleeve down. 

Her eyes snapped up to his face, and she refused to let them fall back to his exposed stomach before it disappeared under the hem of his shirt. 

“Thank god I don’t have to wear that for a week,” he said, tossing the discarded button down in his laundry hamper. “Won’t miss it for a second.” 

Percy’s hair was mussed, and Annabeth could see his dimples. She should say something. 

“You don’t get to complain to me. I’ve had to wear them every day for ten years,” she managed, relieved that her voice sounded even. 

Percy made a face and then hopped up on the bed beside her. “Well, my mom told me I looked ‘very dapper’ when we got my uniform back in August, whatever that means.” 

“She was right.” 

“I still don’t know if that’s a compliment or not.” 

Annabeth let him wonder. 

Percy stretched out like a cat on the bed beside her, his back resting against a mountain of pillows he’d shoved into the corner. 

“How’d you feel about Winchester?” she asked, curious about his last soccer game. They’d lost, ending their state championship prospects the third game in. 

He shut his eyes and gently shrugged his shoulders. “I’m happy with how far we got. They were the better team in the end.” 

Annabeth was surprised by his relaxed demeanor. “You’re not disappointed?” 

“Well, obviously it would’ve been great to win a state championship. But I knew we weren’t a good enough team, given how some of these schools basically start to recruit players in middle school.” 

“But you’re so competitive!” 

“True, but I know there isn’t anything I could’ve done that would’ve changed it. I’m happy with how I played.” 

With his eyes still shut, Percy looked completely unbothered. Annabeth was silent. She wouldn’t have expected it, but she figured it did make sense–he’d been playing nonstop since September. 

“By the way, this year was the farthest Cunningham has gotten in twenty-two years.” 

Annabeth looked back over at Percy to find him staring at her with one open eye. He kept his gaze pointedly trained on her for another second before snapping it shut and readjusting against his pillows. 

There it is. “Are you kidding? It was amazing!” She said, laughter bubbling out at his expression. “I’m just used to all the seniors being devastated when the season ends. Excuse me for checking in.” 

Percy adjusted, so that he was sitting a little straighter. “Most of those guys have played together at least since they were freshman, for some since middle school. It’s a big deal for them. It doesn’t feel the same for me.” 

They were quiet for a moment. “Do you think you’re desensitised to change?” Annabeth inquired, somewhat abruptly. 

If Percy found her question odd, he didn’t show it. He gazed thoughtfully at the map of blueprints taped to Leo’s wall. “I don’t know if I’d say that. It’s more like the things that I really care about changing are so fundamental that they don’t shift very abruptly. Fast changes like teams and schools don’t bother me so much because I’ve done it before. But the first few times, it was hard.” 

Annabeth considered what he said. She wondered if she was the opposite–things hadn’t changed in so long that she couldn’t be sure how it would feel. Annabeth had been going to Cunningham for ages, with a similar group of students. Sure, her friends changed and she involved herself with different activities, but the general routine stayed the same. Even when she first left for boarding school, the adjustment hadn’t been bad. Overwhelming, certainly, but she hadn’t wished to be home, either. 

Maybe that was it. Annabeth so rarely encountered change in her life which required her to let go of something she’d actually miss. Her mother came to mind, and she shook the thought away. Even that felt different since Annabeth barely remembered her. She simply missed a construct, the fantastical childhood her imagination had concocted, which included a mother’s love. 

“What are you thinking about?” 

Percy’s voice jarred Annabeth from her thoughts. 

She shrugged. “I don’t know.” 

Percy gave her an incredulous look, but he didn’t press. 

This precisely drew an answer from Annabeth. “I haven’t had something to really miss in a long time. But I’ll miss it here when we graduate. I guess I’ve just been thinking a lot about what that will be like.” 

“Don’t you miss your dad?” Percy asked, a small crease between his brows. 

“Yes and no,” Annabeth sighed. “When I was little, even though he was physically present, I never felt like he was actually ther e. So, I miss my dad, but I also miss him when I see him. Does that make sense?” 

“Yeah, it does.” 

They both fell silent, lost in thought while rays of light from the late afternoon sun shone through the glass window panes. Annabeth wondered, not for the first time, what the truth was about Percy’s father. She knew there was Paul, but on the rare occasions Percy had mentioned him, there was evidently no attachment. 

Annabeth glanced over at him. He’d sunk back again into the pile of pillows, his eyes shut against the sun. It was the most relaxed she’d seen him in weeks. 

Rather than poking around something she doubted he’d want to discuss, Annabeth eyed the pillows. She reached out and tugged on one that stuck out quite far, hoping he wouldn’t miss it. When it didn’t budge, Percy started protesting; apparently, he was using it. 

“There’s plenty left, just–” Eyes still closed, Percy blindly patted the pillows surrounding him. 

Annabeth only hesitated for half a second before she lay down. She twisted to the side, pulling her legs up and resting her head on the exposed portion of pillow near his chest. Annabeth complained the whole time, but really, she didn’t mind. 

Wind rushed past the window, rattling the hinges. Annabeth listened to the noise, appreciative of the cocoon of stillness inside. It was nice not to worry about where she had to be or what was happening next, and she was content to stay exactly where she was and just rest. 

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

When Annabeth stirred awake, her eyes fluttered open to a dimly lit room. The afternoon sun was gone, replaced by deep blue hues of evening. For a second, she felt disoriented, aware only of the steady rise and fall beneath her head. 

Then it clicked. 

She was in Percy’s room. More than that, she was curled up against him. At some point, Annabeth’s head had fallen forward against his chest, and his arm, which had been extended behind her, had fallen such that his forearm was resting on her waist. 

Annabeth held her breath at the realization, remaining utterly still. Yet the longer he stayed there, she realized her body ached faintly from staying in the same position for so long. How long had they been asleep? Finding her phone near her on the mattress, Annabeth tapped the screen, flashing the time. 

7:20. 

Adrenaline suddenly rushed through Annabeth. 

“Percy. Hey. Percy! ” 

His arm on her waist tensed, and Annabeth knew he was awake. A second later, it was gone as he pushed himself into a sitting position. She felt the cool air in his absence. 

“Wha–how long were we asleep?” He managed, scrubbing his eyes. Percy’s hair was even more unruly than usual, sticking straight up thanks to his odd angle against the pillows. 

Annabeth urgently pushed herself into a sitting position as well. “Almost two hours. We were supposed to be at dinner twenty minutes ago.” 

Percy’s expression remained groggy. “Dinner–what? What do you mean?”

Annabeth slid off the bed and into a standing position. “I mean, since break has officially started, so have scheduled dinners. It’s not an open time frame like usual, they set it to make sure we’re all accounted for.” When he didn’t move, she grabbed his arm and tugged. “Come on! ” 

Percy seemed to become more alert as he processed her words. “Right, yeah, let’s go,” he said, blinking several times and running a hand through his hair before swinging his legs to the floor. 

Annabeth led the way as they rushed out the door and down the hallway, weaving down the stairs until they finally emerged outside. It was freezing, and Annabeth didn’t have a jacket. She gritted her teeth as they began running across campus towards the dining hall. 

Percy reached the wooden doors first and pulled one open, standing back and letting her through. Annabeth slowed to a walk, smoothing her hair down. “Let me do the talking,” she instructed, before purposefully marching inside. 

Annabeth’s shoes clicked on the wooden floor as she neared the table in the center. At the head sat Mr. Grigsby, who was responsible for supervising them all, and he peered at her approaching figure with an expression of superiority and formulated disappointment. 

He set down his fork, which had a speared piece of chicken on it.“Miss Chase, Mr. Jackson! How good of you to finally join us!”

Annabeth knew better than to respond right away. He continued, as she predicted. “I hope this won't become the usual routine. Tell me, what was so important?” 

“I apologize, sir. We lost track of the time.” 

“Hmm! Well, isn’t that convenient. And why is that?” 

“We were asleep,” Percy said from behind her. Annabeth cringed internally, and heard snickering. The eyes of some of the younger students were round with dismay. 

“Not together,” she rushed out, casting around for a plausible explanation. “We were both taking naps, and I told him I’d wake him up in time, but I overslept. It was my fault.” 

Not her best. Unsurprisingly, Mr. Grigsby didn’t look convinced. He appraised them over the rim of his glasses, clearly basking in his authority. The moment was agonizingly long, and Annabeth stared back in silence. 

“Well, don’t let it happen again,” he finally said, gesturing at the table. “There’s plenty of food still for you two. Though I must say, I’m disappointed–I expected a better example to be set by our seniors.” 

They both muttered thanks and apologies as they pulled out their chairs and sat down. Grigsby made a big show of scribbling their names on the attendance sheet and placing X’s next to them. Annabeth knew there wouldn’t be any real repercussions, but she was annoyed anyway. 

The rest of the dinner was awkward. There was no free-flowing conversation–instead, Grigsby treated it as somewhat of an interrogation, advancing down the row of students and asking them each questions. 

“How long have you been at Cunningham, Mr. Grigsby?” Percy eventually inquired, after an especially painful few minutes in which Grigsby struggled to understand the whispered answers of an eighth grader. Thankfully, he seemed more than happy to talk about himself and launched into a long-winded explanation of his own boyhood and career, which took them all the way through the end of dessert. 

“So really, it was Mathew Donnelly who’s the reason I’m here. He was a great man, I tell you; a great man indeed. In fact–oh!” He was interrupted by his plate being cleared. “Oh my, would you look at the time. I supposed I must let you all run along. Stay in your rooms after nine, and I’ll see you tomorrow at ten for breakfast!” 

There was a great scraping of chairs as they all scrambled to get up. Annabeth was sure Grigsby would want to trap her and Percy behind to properly scold them, so she grabbed Percy’s wrist and practically dragged him away before Grigsby could get the chance. 

“Is he always like that?” Percy asked as they stepped outside. 

Annabeth shrugged. “Grigsby was the supervisor once before. Meals can get long, but really, he isn’t half bad. He acts strict, but it’s easy to get away with whatever you want since he’s never actually around.”

“What do you usually do during breaks anyway?” he asked, setting off across the gravel path. 

Annabeth grinned in the dark. “I’ll show you tomorrow. I mainly just explore, and there’s loads of places I’ve found over the years.” 

“Like what?” 

“I said I’d show you tomorrow!” 

“Fine,” said Percy, the word long and drawn out.

They reached the dormitories and stopped where the path split. Percy’s eyes glittered in the dark when he turned to face Annabeth. “I’ll see you in the morning. I meant to tell you– good save back there, I think Grigsby really bought it.” 

His tone was dripping with sarcasm. “I told you explicitly to let me do the talking!” Annabeth insisted indignantly, glad he’d brought it up. “Why would you ever say we were sleeping? It sounded like–” 

“Like what?” Percy challenged, clearly amused. Annabeth felt her face grow hot. 

“You know what. You traumatized those poor younger kids, did you see their faces?” 

Percy just laughed. “Does this mean I can count on you to be my personal alarm clock tomorrow morning? I mean, that is what you told them. Very convincing.”

“I think you can manage just fine without me,” she said with a grin, and started backing away. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

He stood with his hands in his pockets, looking amused. “‘Night, Annabeth.” 

She turned and hurried across the green. Now that she wasn’t speaking to Percy anymore, Annabeth was abruptly aware of her lack of a jacket once again. 

Chapter Text

Annabeth made a special effort on Saturday morning to be early to breakfast. In fact, she was so early that she arrived before Mr. Grigsby, and waited outside in the snow until he bustled in with a copy of the morning post. She gave him two minutes to settle in and anticipate a student's arrival before making her appearance known. 

“Good morning, Miss Chase!” he said jovially, peering at her over the corner of the sports section.

“Good morning,” she responded, pulling out a chair and unwrapping her scarf. 

“No trouble waking up today?” 

Annabeth smiled good-naturedly. “No, I set three alarms just to be sure.” 

As she had hoped, he found this exceedingly funny, and Annabeth laughed along with him. Just then, two other students hurried through the door, letting in a rush of cold air. Mr. Grigsby winked conspiratorially at Annabeth before he greeted the newcomers, and she knew her infraction from the day before had been forgiven. 

The rest of the group slowly filtered in, and soon the table was nearly full. Annabeth began to worry that Percy would be late again, but he arrived with thirty seconds to spare. There was only one chair left, on the opposite end of the table from her, and he sat down beside two young students, who eyed him curiously. 

Thankfully, Mr. Grigsby did not carry on with his interrogation tactic from the previous night and happily disappeared behind the newspaper. Annabeth helped herself to some eggs and fruit, liberally salting the former. 

“Why are you staying over break?”

The question came from a brunette girl on her right. Her voice was high and direct, and she appeared younger than Annabeth. 

“Oh. I’m from California, it's a long way to go,” she responded vaguely, finding the question a bit personal. 

The girl smiled, displaying a mouthful of braces. “That is pretty far. I was going home to New Jersey yesterday, but my family is traveling in England and they got held up on the way back. Left all of their passports in Liverpool, and they didn’t realize until they were in London! Obviously, they drove all the way back, but the next flights weren't until Sunday. They rescheduled mine for Tomorrow too, so we'd all arrive at the same time."

She said all of this in one breath, and then stared expectantly, blinking rapidly. 

“Well…I’m glad they were able to reschedule their flights,” Annabeth said after a beat. “What’s your name?”

The girl beamed. “I’m Isabella! Some people call me Izz. I’m a freshman.”

She had a hundred questions for Annabeth–what classes had she taken, who were the best professors, should she try to skip calculus one and go straight into advanced?–and Annabeth answered them all. If there was one thing she was qualified to give advice on, it was school. Still, after ten minutes, she couldn’t keep her eyes from wandering. 

At the far end of the table, Percy sat teaching the boys next to him how to make it look like they’d detached their thumbs from their hands. Their faces were crunched in concentration as they tried it for themselves and demanded he show them the illusion again and again. The rest of the students were either talking placidly to those beside them or simply eating quietly. 

“…Don’t you think?” 

Silence clued Annabeth to the fact that Isabella had just asked her something new. 

“Hmm?” 

“I said, going to a school like this one will look good on my college applications, don’t you think?” 

College applications? Wasn’t she a freshman? 

“It’s true Cunningham tends to send a lot of students to elite institutions. But there’s no guarantee,” Annabeth said slowly. “I’m sure you’ll be just fine.” 

Isabella bobbed her head bashfully, clearly pleased by Annabeth’s words.

In the interim, Annabeth made a show of clattering her fork on her plate, setting it down. The noise drew the attention of Mr. Grigsby, whose head bobbed up from above the line of the paper. His gaze swiveled around the table until it landed on Annabeth, who was evidently waiting for him to look her way. She glanced down at her empty plate, around at everyone else’s, and then back to him. 

Grigsby got her drift and excused them. 

Annabeth rose from her spot and found Percy near the door. She stood to the side, waiting for him to finish saying goodbye to his new friends. 

 “That was really sweet. They loved you,” she said, as they dashed out the door. 

Percy grinned, staring after them. “Yeah, they were funny.” Then, he slung his arm across her shoulders, tugging her off balance. “So…what are we doing today? You were annoyingly cryptic last night.”

Annabeth laughed, pushing him off. “I have a few places in mind. But you have to promise not to tell anyone.” 

“Okay, I promise.” Annabeth narrowed her eyes, and he looked offended. “Oh, come on, don’t you trust me?”

She turned on her heel and walked towards the door, smiling at the ground. They headed away from the cluster of academic buildings, moving briskly across campus while soft, large snowflakes lazily drifted down on them. Annabeth's jeans, which flared a little near the bottom, were getting wet from the snow.

Percy quickly deduced where they were heading. “I should’ve known you’d take me to the library,” he called out from behind her. 

“You’ll like this, I promise!” 

Percy caught up to her at the steps, and she led the way inside. They stamped the snow from their shoes and advanced into the heart of the library, where the ceiling soared up multiple levels, supported by a network of wooden beams. 

Annabeth walked to the corner of the room, where a narrow staircase spiraled up to the second level, and took the stairs two at a time. She could hear Percy close behind her, the wooden steps creaking with age.

“I can only do this during breaks, otherwise someone’ll see,” she explained, passing the second level. When Annabeth reached the third, she stepped onto the landing and looked up. 

Above, a wooden beam fit into the corner near the stairway, extending out and intersecting with the rest of the room. Percy stood beside her, looking confused. 

Rather than explaining, Annabeth climbed onto a cushioned bench. Using a scroll in the intricate wood panelling of the wall as a foothold, she pushed herself up and slung her leg over the beam. It took some maneuvering, but soon Annabeth was balanced. 

She scooted down so there was space for another person. “Your turn.”  

Percy followed her easily, pushing himself up with his arms in one fluid motion. 

She nodded approvingly. “Okay. Now follow me, and be careful.” 

Slowly, Annabeth began to shimmy forward along the beam. Despite years of practice, her hands were still sweaty against the wood when she passed over the railing. Now there was nothing below her but a thirty-five-foot drop to the floor. 

About ten feet out, Annabeth stopped moving forward. Above her was another beam, this time at a diagonal angle. Very slowly, Annabeth pushed herself to a standing position, her arms extending out to balance. Then, she wrapped both arms around the wood above and pulled herself up. 

Percy looked at her from the beam below and swallowed. His eyebrows drew together, and he frowned in the way he did when concentrating. 

“Look a few feet in front of you,” she instructed. “Take my hand when you stand up, and you’ll be fine.” 

Percy nodded. He was right below her now, and Annabeth found herself holding her breath as he slowly rose to his feet. She thrust her arm down, and when he grabbed her hand, she exhaled with relief. 

He grinned. “Thanks.” 

Annabeth realized she was more nervous than he was. She also noticed her grip on his hand was iron, and allowed it to relax so he could grasp onto the diagonal wood instead. A second later, he’d pulled himself up behind her. 

They continued in a similar fashion, climbing from beam to beam, rising higher and higher. The farther they went, the closer the beams were, and the less nerve-wracking it was to move from one to another. 

Annabeth wasn’t satisfied until they were close enough to touch the ceiling. Only then did she settle onto the wood, both her feet resting before her and her back against another support. Percy did the same, mirroring her position so they faced each other. 

From their vantage point, the rows of shelves twisted like a labyrinth. Scattered couches and tables broke the pattern here and there, creating quiet pockets of space. If anyone else were in the library, they would know. 

Soft snowflakes were still falling across the glass. Percy watched them, and when he looked back at Annabeth, his eyes were bright with excitement. 

“So what do you think?” she asked. 

“I love it. Kind of reminds me of the fire escape on our building in the city. You’d love it.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Mm-hmm.” 

She looked down, smiling. “You might’ve caught on that I like high places. I guess it makes me feel like I’m also above everything else, too. Then, when I go back down, I can worry again.” 

“I know what you mean.” 

 She nodded gratefully. “I also just really like old things, and I mean…” She gestured around the room. 

“You’re at the right school, then,” Percy laughed. 

While they spoke, Annabeth let one of her legs drop down over the side, and her stomach dipped at the height and empty space below her. She loved it. 

It was a little strange to have someone else up there with her. Annabeth couldn’t begin to count the number of hours she’d passed over breaks in the rafters, reading books or simply staring at the ceiling. 

They sat there for a long time, talking about whatever crossed their minds. Annabeth found herself laughing more than she managed to speak–the sound echoed through the rafters, bouncing off the ceiling and filling the room. Percy’s laughter was contagious, and Annabeth liked that he found her funny. 

She was lying on her back listening to him explain how he ended up getting sent to the principal's for the very first time—in the second grade—when the sound of creaking hinges cut through the steady sound of his voice. 

Annabeth’s eyes widened and she swiftly sat up, gesturing for silence. Percy froze mid-sentence, his eyes falling to the ground, scanning for the source of noise. Annabeth did the same and quickly found the culprit.

Mr. Grigsby, nearly indistinguishable under his lumpy black coat, was trudging through the shelves, leaving streaks of snow in his wake. He carried a large book tucked under one arm and was digging through his many pockets with the other. 

A cabinet with tall glass doors was tucked near the librarian's desk, and Grigsby stopped in front of it. Finally retrieving a pair of spectacles from his pocket, he pushed them onto his nose and leaned close to the glass. 

“He’ll see us if he looks up,” Percy whispered. 

“No, those glasses are because he’s short-sighted. We’d be too blurry.” 

Grigsby, having found the section he was looking for, pulled open the glass door. He slid the book under his arm onto the shelf, shut the cabinet, removed his spectacles, and then meandered towards the bowl of mints available at the librarian's desk. For a heart-stopping moment, Grigsby tipped his head back, just as he was precisely beneath them. Miraculously, his eyes were shut as he let the candy dissolve on his tongue, and when he opened them, it was to meander back outside into the snowy afternoon. 

Annabeth exhaled, feeling herself relax when the door banged shut. 

“I must be bad luck,” Percy quipped, although he looked relieved.

She shook her head. “Let’s get down from here. I wouldn’t be surprised if Isabella came in here to study.” 

While Percy grumbled about why anyone would study over break, Annabeth began to pick her way back down. It was easier going than on the way up, and soon enough their feet were on solid ground. They climbed back down the stairs, this time with Percy in front. He stopped at the bottom, unsure of where to go next. 

“Okay. There’s somewhere else I want to show you that’s near here,” Annabeth told him, pausing for dramatic effect. “I think it’s my best discovery.”

A boyish smile spread across his face. “Oh yeah?” 

“Yep.” She started walking, weaving through the bookshelves. 

“Mysterious as always.” 

Off the main hall, they entered a dimly lit and less furnished corridor. It was lined with administrative offices and trophy cases, and looked completely abandoned. 

Percy walked behind her, keeping pace. “Basement?” he guessed when Annabeth pulled open a door at the end. 

She nodded. Down two levels and through another door, they were greeted by a small room with concrete walls and countless filing cabinets pressed against all four walls. Annabeth’s nose tickled from dust, and she fought the urge to sneeze. 

“Is this an office?” Percy guessed, turning on the spot. 

“Over here,” she said, gesturing for him to follow her across the room. 

She crouched and swiped away a thick layer of dust resting on the floor. Four faint lines were carved out of the concrete, forming a square. In the center, a metal crescent lay flat, with hinges on either side. The trap door was easy to pass over, but once noticed, impossible to ignore. 

Percy exhaled as he dropped to his knees beside her and tentatively grasped the handle, its rusty hinges shrieking in protest as he pulled the panel open. “What’s down there?” 

 Annabeth couldn’t stop smiling as they stared at the ladder descending into darkness below. “It’s a tunnel,” she explained. “There’s a whole system of them down here, connecting every building. I know it all like the back of my hand, you can get almost anywhere.” 

She watched him process her words. “Tunnels under the whole school…” 

Annabeth nodded. Percy met her eyes across the trap door, his expression shifting from disbelief to excitement. He started laughing. 

“And how many people know about this?” 

“Well…I do, now you do too, and I’m sure the administration. But I’ve never told anyone or heard it spoken about, and I’ve definitely never seen someone else down here.” 

His smile grew even more. “This is—wow. So are we going down?”

“No, I thought you’d be more interested in these filing cabinets.” 

Annabeth snorted and missed his indignant reply, moving to climb down the ladder. Soon, Percy was only a faraway head of messy dark hair protesting far above, backlit against the lights of the room. 

When her feet hit the rough floor, she called up for him to follow her. He reached her in no time, and they both squinted into the dark, waiting for their eyes to adjust. 

The two of them stood in a long corridor, which quickly faded into complete darkness in both directions. The ceiling was stone, only broken by the small square far above where light shone through the trap door. The air was dry and still, as if they were the only two to disturb it in decades, and completely silent. 

Percy spoke first. “How old did you say you were when you found this?” 

Her forehead crinkled. “I think it was sixth grade the first time I came down here?” 

Percy’s eyes widened. “You were eleven and running straight into a maze of dark underground tunnels?” he blurted out, somewhere between a whisper and a shout. 

Annabeth looked around and then back at him. “Well, yeah.” 

“I’m trying to imagine a younger version of you just taking off down here…” he said, venturing a few steps away from her. He was quickly swallowed by the darkness, and Annabeth could barely make out his silhouette. “I can barely even see. ” 

She laughed. “Yeah, usually I use–” But the hand that reached for her back pocket was met with nothing. She cursed under her breath. “I must’ve left my phone in my room. Can we use yours?” 

“We can try, but it barely works,” Percy muttered, returning to where Annabeth stood in the shaft of light and tapping his own screen. He attempted to turn on his flashlight, but nothing happened. “Like I said. What did you need it for?” 

Annabeth met his eyes in the dark, her expression serious. “One of these connects to the kitchen. I thought you might be interested—it’s the main reason I ever come down here now.” 

His smile grew. “I am definitely interested.” 

“Good.” Annabeth weighed their options. She could either run all the way back to her dorm and get her phone, or… “I have the way memorized. We can still go.”

He looked skeptical. “Are you sure?” 

“Unless you’re scared of the dark?” 

“No!” 

“Okay, then let’s go!” She laughed, and the sound bounced off the walls, echoing down the tunnel. “Just stick with me.” 

As Annabeth advanced into the darkness, she quickly lost the ability to see any farther than a few feet ahead of herself. Percy fell into step behind her, but after about twenty feet, Annabeth turned and found he had completely disappeared into the shadows. 

“Percy?” 

“I’m here.”

“Keep up!” she demanded. 

“I’m right behind you!”

Annabeth stopped walking, which Percy couldn’t see. He would’ve run right into her if she hadn’t put out her hand to stop him first. Feeling down his arm, Annabeth quickly slipped her hand into his, entwining their fingers. In the dark, she liked the reassurance that he was right beside her. 

“It’s easier this way,” she explained, meeting his gaze in the dark. 

Percy just gave her an easy smile, which made her stomach flip. 

She set a brisk pace. They turned left, then right, and right again when the tunnel forked. All the time, Annabeth kept one hand on the wall, her fingers skimming over the stones as they passed. It was no trouble finding their way–she knew these tunnels like the back of her hand. 

Finally, the rough stone under her finger turned smooth. They stopped walking, and Annabeth took a few steps back. 

She nodded at the wall in front of them. “This is the door, but it tends to stick.” 

Percy appraised it. “On three? One…two…”

They both threw their shoulders against the smooth surface. After a second attempt, the door budged open enough for them to squeeze through.

Once inside, Percy bumped her shoulder conspiratorially. They were greeted by a staircase, which they climbed, at the top of which was another door. Before pushing it open, Percy turned to Annabeth. 

“This is unbelievable. Thanks, you know,  for trusting me.” 

Annabeth looked down. “Well, I was bound to have found something after a decade, wasn’t I? Just, you know, be careful. Don’t break anything.” 

He smiled ruefully. “I won’t.”  

When they pulled the door open, the kitchen was empty, as Annabeth knew it would be. She flipped on a light switch, revealing the room. Everything was stainless steel, with shiny grey freezers, refrigerators, countertops, sinks, stoves, and shelves lining every wall. 

 Annabeth beelined for the pantry and pocketed some hot chocolate mix, crackers, and dried fruit. In the refrigerator, she found a log of goat cheese–her favorite–and she grabbed that, too. 

Meanwhile, Percy was opening every cabinet he could find. Though he didn’t take everything he discovered, he kept calling Annabeth over to show her. “Hey Annabeth, you won’t believe what I just found!”  “Do you know what this is?” “Come see this!”

Subsequently, she split her time running over to see what he had to show her and returning to her own pillaging, but eventually, Annabeth stopped looking every time he asked her to. She knew this kitchen was generally abandoned in favor of a smaller one during breaks, but there was still a risk someone might come looking for ingredients or appliances. It was in their best interest to be quick, so she managed to drag him back into the tunnel after just under ten minutes. 

Standing there in the dark, Percy showed her his inventory. “These, obviously,” –he held up two large cartons of blueberries– “and some cookies, and I’m not sure what this is, but it looked interesting…” 

Annabeth studied the bottles he held up, which were artificially blue. “Energy drink, maybe? Or some kind of soda?”

He nodded. “Probably. Anyhow, what do you have?” 

When she showed him her collection of crackers, cheese, and dried fruit, he laughed and told her she looked like a camp counselor. Annabeth refrained from reminding Percy that she was practically his camp counselor, seeing as she was the only one who knew how to get out of the tunnels. 

“At least I’m not eliminating things just because they aren’t the right color,” she said instead. 

Percy just rolled his eyes. They set off into the darkness again, their footsteps echoing in the empty space. Annabeth had to admit it was much better down there with someone else–it would be a lie to say she never sprinted full speed by herself to and from the kitchen. 

They made quick progress, and soon the shaft of light shining down through the trap door was visible in the distance. Climbing back up proved to be more difficult with an armful of snacks, and Annabeth went first, having had more practice. Percy followed her, but had to climb back down when a drink slid from his pocket.

When he made it all the way up, they sat side by side on the dusty floor, waiting for their eyes to adjust to the lights. Percy opened his carton of blueberries, and they wordlessly shared it. The berries were perfect–sweet and solid, not one of them mushy. They took turns tossing them at each other and catching them in their mouths. Percy caught more, but Annabeth argued it was only because she had better aim. 

When the carton was empty, they pushed themselves to their feet and trudged back upstairs, leaving the trap door hidden in the darkness below. Annabeth collected her jacket and scarf from where she’d discarded them near the entrance, wrapping the red wool around her neck. 

When they stepped outside, the snow had transformed the campus. It had dwindled to much thinner and smaller flakes, leaving every tree branch and rooftop covered by a soft white blanket. A strong wind blew drifts up from the ground, creating a swirling effect. 

Annabeth stuck out her palm and watched a snowflake melt. “It’s a winter wonderland!” 

Percy turned on the spot, appreciating the whole scene. “It feels like we’re in a snowglobe.” Then, pointing at the hill in the distance leading down to the lake, he exclaimed, “We should go sledding!” 

Annabeth followed his gaze. It did look enticing, but the more practical part of her won out. “Okay, but you need to finish packing first. You won’t have time in the morning.” 

Percy stared wistfully at the hill. “Come on, what if it melts?” 

“We aren’t in the city, this snow will be here for a week. There's practically a foot of it.” When he still looked unconvinced, she added, “Let’s go before dinner. There’ll be plenty of time.” 

He finally tore his gaze away from the distance and looked back at Annabeth. “Oh, fine.” 

She grinned, and he playfully shoved her as he marched past towards the dormitories. She lobbed a retaliatory handful of snow at his back. 

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

“I don’t know, this might cause too much friction! Maybe it’ll be slower.” 

“Are we doing this or aren’t we?” 

“Well, it also might get us more momentum, depending on how much we’ve packed down the run.” 

Percy, who was face down in front of her, dropped his forehead into the snow. “I’m going in ten seconds, either you’re in or you’re out. Ten…Nine…” 

“I’m in, I’m in!” Annabeth insisted, brushing her hair out of her face. “Are you ready?” 

“Yes.” 

“Okay. Okay.” She backed up. “I’m going to get a running start, so when I jump on, I can push us off too.” 

“Let me know when–” 

Percy let out a gasp of air as Annabeth landed face down on top of him, having launched herself from a few feet back. Their sled began gliding down the run they’d created, quickly gaining speed. 

Percy shouted something from underneath her, but Annabeth didn’t catch it. Her arms were wrapped around his shoulders as she lay on top of him, clinging on for dear life. 

“It’s working!’ she shouted. 

“What?” 

“I said–” 

Annabeth was cut off when they shot over a small bump. She and Percy both started shouting as they pitched full speed ahead toward the lake, snow flying up into their faces. 

Everything was a blur around Annabeth, except for Percy’s blue hat, which was right under her nose. Over the past hour, the two of them had created a sledding run from the very top of the bank all the way down to the snow-covered beach, both of them using spare plastic container lids as sleds. It had been Annabeth’s idea to both go down at once, which was how they found themselves stacked like sardines on the small square of plastic, hurtling towards the icy water. 

Small bumps and swerves jostled her, and it became increasingly difficult to not slide off Percy. Finally, as they reached the bottom and their path began to flatten, a lump sent them spinning to the side. The torque was too much to fight, and they both went flying sideways. 

Annabeth rolled twice, and Percy crashed into her seconds later. They lay in a tangled heap on the ground, catching their breath. 

Percy managed to push himself up on one arm. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah,” she laughed, looking up at him. “Are you? It worked!” 

He nodded and started laughing, too. That only made Annabeth laugh more, and they both lay there a minute, just trying to catch their breath. 

Finally, Annabeth pushed herself up to a sitting position. Percy looked up from the ground and tugged her hair. 

“You lost your hat.” 

“Did I?” she said, reaching up to feel her head. Like he said, it was exposed to the cold air. “I’ll find it on the way up.” 

Percy’s cheeks were flushed, and she was sure hers were just the same. He let go of the lock of hair in his hand and let his arm flop back to the snow. “I thought we were going all the way to the water for a second.” 

Annabeth twisted and looked to the right, towards the edge of the water. It wasn’t completely frozen over yet. “Me too. I can’t believe how fast we were going. That would’ve been really bad.” 

“Really, really bad.” 

Annabeth flopped back to the ground and turned to face him. His expression, a mix of humour and concern at the prospect of them flying into the lake, made her burst out laughing again. 

The sun was sinking low behind the trees, casting a golden light across the bank. As it glinted off the snow and the water, it was almost blinding. 

“I bet dinner is soon,” Annabeth sighed, after they had both quieted down. “We should probably get going.” 

Percy nodded, and slowly rose to his feet. He stuck a gloved hand out and pulled Annabeth up, too. Then he trudged over to retrieve their sled, and they both began climbing back up the hill. Annabeth kept her eyes trained on the snow and found her hat about halfway up. 

“Do you think we have time to change out of our snow gear?” She asked when they reached the top. 

Percy fished his phone from a jacket pocket. “We have half an hour, so I think so.” 

“Oh, good. I have so much snow down my shirt.” 

“Probably from when you tried going backwards,” he said with a grin. 

She ducked her head. “Worth it.”

They split at the dormitories, Annabeth walking to the right and Percy to the left. She looked over her shoulder and watched his retreating figure, smiling to herself. 

When she reached the steps, Annabeth nearly slipped on the ice that had accumulated there. They evidently hadn’t received their usual salting before the snowfall, so she went up sideways, clinging to the railing. 

Once the icy wind was no longer blustering around her, Annabeth was immediately sweating under her snowgear and wasted no time shedding her coat and scarf as she dashed up to her room. By the time she shut the door behind her, only her snow pants were left, which she quickly wriggled out of. 

Letting out a sigh of relief, Annabeth looked up and was met by her own reflection in the mirror. Her cheeks were red, flushed from the cold and exertion. She winced as she took in the state of her hair–being stuck under a hat and then exposed to the snow had left it a frizzy, knotted mess. Her sweater was damp with snow, but her jeans seemed dry enough. 

Annabeth dug through her closet, retrieving a navy blue turtleneck that she tugged on. Then, she hurriedly worked her hair into two dutch braids, which looked presentable. She spent the remaining ten minutes curling her eyelashes and adding mascara, applying vaseline to her lips, and working a small amount of her favorite perfume onto her wrists and neck. With one last look in the mirror, Annabeth snatched her jacket from the floor and dashed out her door. 

When she reached the dining hall, Annabeth was one of the last to arrive. Percy, for once, was there earlier than she and seated at the end of the table. He looked up and smiled at her, nodding at the seat beside him. Annabeth felt a rush of warmth when she noticed the jacket he’d thrown over the back of the chair, saving it just for her. 

“Thanks,” she said, sliding into the chair. 

“No problem.”

Percy’s gaze brushed over her, and it felt as if he was trying to decode something about Annabeth. She looked away, suddenly very interested in her napkin. 

Dinner was simple: chicken, mashed potatoes, and a salad. The two of them devoured their plates, both starving. Looking around, Annabeth noted that their group was down three from the morning. She estimated that practically all of them would be gone by Monday. She and Percy were the only two seniors, which meant that between the two of them, they had the dormitories all to themselves.

An idea began to formulate in Annabeth’s mind. “Hey, want to have a movie night?” she asked quietly. 

Percy looked up from his potatoes. “Sure, what do you want to watch?” 

She shrugged. “I don’t know yet, but I was thinking…I’m pretty sure we could connect my laptop to the TV in the common room.” 

Understanding dawned on his face. “Let’s pull the couch around. It’ll be like our own theater.” 

“Exactly. And we have all our snacks.” 

They nodded in agreement, and returned to their plates. A tray of brownies had materialized on the table, and Isabella–who had been trying to catch Annabeth's eye throughout the meal–beamed at her when they reached for dessert at the same time.

Annabeth handed a brownie to Percy and chewed on her own thoughtfully. She wondered what Piper was up to–where was she right now? What was she doing? Then she remembered that Egypt was six hours ahead of Connecticut, meaning it was early morning there. Hopefully, Piper was asleep. 

Annabeth’s thoughts strayed to her own family. She imagined their house in California, her younger brothers charging through the door and dropping their bags and shoes in the hall. Helen likely scolded them while they raided the kitchen, warning they wouldn’t be hungry for dinner, but they’d ignore her and she wouldn’t mind. Annabeth imagined her father would be holed away upstairs, working on something or other, but he’d join them for dinner, and smile and laugh at whatever story the twins told about school. 

Her gut twisted, and she set her half-eaten brownie back on her plate. The mahogany wood panelling of the dining hall seemed cold and abrasive, while the kitchen in her mind, flooded with the golden light of late afternoon sun, was comfortable and inviting. 

Annabeth bit her lip and reached for her water. She knew her absence only made her miss something that really didn’t exist in the first place, and she resented her mind for cultivating such an idealized memory. It wasn’t like that at home, especially when she was there. 

When they were dismissed, the scraping of chairs jarred Annabeth back to the present. She hurried to stand up, dropping her napkin on her plate and pushing her seat in. Percy waited for her, and together they walked out into the cold night. 

The snow crunched under their heels. Percy was silent beside her, his hands deep in his pockets. Annabeth felt bitter, resentful of something–a mix of disappointment in him leaving the next morning, and the fact that her own family didn’t want her, she figured. She’d been through this week before, countless times, but there was something unshakably hurtful about being alone over the holidays. 

By the time they’d reached the common room, Annabeth had managed to shove her emotions deep inside her. She’d deal with them later. 

Together, the two of them began rearranging the room.“One, two…three!” Percy counted off, and they both picked up the couch. Annabeth strained as she lifted her end, but it was much lighter than she’d anticipated. They rotated it easily, until the couch was directly facing the large flatscreen TV resting between two windows. 

She appraised the set-up with her hands on her hips. “I think we need more blankets. I’ll see what I can find.” 

“Me too, and I need to bring down the cookies,” he agreed. “Meet back here in fifteen?”

Annabeth nodded, and they split. Back upstairs in her room, she changed into a stripey pair of pajama pants and a soft old tee-shirt, which she had cut the neck out of. Then, she grabbed every pillow she could carry from her bed and slung two fuzzy throw blankets over her shoulders. She and Piper’s kettle was dangling by the handle from her right arm, and the tote bag hooked around her left held two cups, spoons, and the hot chocolate mix she’d filched earlier. 

Annabeth had to walk sideways down the stairs to ensure she didn’t trip on the blankets thrown over her. When she finally made it back to the common room, Percy was still gone. She deposited her blankets and pillows on the couch, arranging them so that there was an even amount on both sides. Then she picked up the kettle and left to fill it with water. 

When Annabeth returned, Percy was sitting on the floor, bent over a pile of cords. Her laptop was open next to him. She quietly plugged in the kettle and started warming the water, and then went and sat down beside him. While he was gone, he’d changed into a pair of plaid blue pajama pants and a white T-shirt, and his damp hair suggested he’d taken a shower. 

“How’s it going over here?” 

Percy looked up at her. “Pretty well, I’m just trying to find a cable with the right ports. We need a USB-C to HDMI.” He lifted the tangle of chords in his hands. “There’s definitely one in here somewhere, it’s just hard to tell where one chord starts and another one ends.” 

“There’s got to be one,” Annabeth agreed. She patted the ground between them, and Percy set the cables back down. They both began attempting to untangle the wires. 

“Nice pajamas,” he said, nodding at her outfit. 

“Great minds think alike. Nice shirt.” 

Percy glanced down at his tee, where a small shark insignia was smiling in the center. “What? Oh, yeah, I got this at the aquarium in middle school, but they only had adult sizes. I begged my mom for it the whole day.” 

Annabeth smiled. “That sounds like you.”

“Oh, you would’ve hated me in middle school.”

Annabeth’s eyebrows shot up. “What? No, I wouldn’t have!” 

“You definitely would’ve,” Percy laughed. “I was so annoying, very impractical and impulsive. We wouldn’t have gotten along at all.” 

Annabeth shook her head indignantly. “I might’ve surprised you! I liked to be around wherever the interesting things were happening.” 

Percy looked skeptical, but his expression turned victorious as he extracted a grey wire from the pile between them. “Got it!” 

While Percy connected the cable, Annabeth checked the kettle. Finding that the water had finished boiling, she extracted the mugs and hot chocolate mix from her bag. As the TV screen lit up, Percy turned around and saw her emptying the cocoa powder into their cups. 

“You brought hot chocolate?” he exclaimed, immediately crossing the room. 

“Mm-hmm, I got it in the  kitchen earlier.” 

Percy dropped to his heels and threw an arm around her, squeezing her shoulders. “You’re a genius, you know that?” 

Annabeth let his arm linger for a few seconds before shoving him off. “Stop it, you’ll make me spill!” 

He watched her intently while she poured steaming water over the cocoa mix in each cup. When Annabeth realized she hadn’t brought any spoons to mix it together, Percy found two pencils, which she only hesitated using for a second. They were from her own bag anyway, and practically brand new. 

With their cocoa in hand, they both settled onto the couch. It was big enough for about three people, and a good size for them given the mountain of pillows Annabeth had provided. She pulled her laptop onto her knees. 

“Okay, what should we watch?” 

“Not anything too sad.” 

“But I was thinking about The Dead Poets Society!” Percy looked stricken, and Annabeth cracked up. “I’m kidding, I wasn’t.” 

He kicked her under the blankets. 

After some back and forth, they picked Ocean’s Eleven. Annabeth turned out all the lights, and then one lamp back on again so they weren’t plunged into total darkness. Then she climbed back onto the couch and sunk under her white fuzzy blanket, leaving only her head and cup of hot chocolate exposed. 

The movie started, and it felt a little like seeing an old friend. Annabeth couldn’t remember exactly how everything played out, but each scene was familiar. Although the strategy of the characters was far-fetched, it was equally consistent, even while Annabeth watched intently for discrepancies or contradictions. 

“Here, have a cookie. You look stressed,” Percy told her, after George Clooney assembled his crew and explained his plan for the first time. Annabeth realized she was leaning forward and flopped back into the couch. 

“I’m just trying to understand how this would all work,” she explained, taking the box he was handing her. They were biscuits with chocolate imprinted on the top, and Annabeth chewed hers thoughtfully. “I mean, can you imagine actually doing something like this?” 

Percy looked up at the ceiling, as if he were really considering. Then he tilted his head at her. “Can you imagine us all pulling a heist off?” 

Annabeth shook her head, laughing. “Hazel would never, ever do something remotely illegal. Leo and Piper would do it no problem, though.” 

“Yeah,” he laughed. “But what about Frank?” 

“I guess he could be the trustworthy person we’d send in to talk to people. Very friendly, but also intimidating.” She gestured at the screen. “Kind of like Frank in the movie.” 

Percy nodded, taking another cookie. “True. I just don’t think he’d do it if Hazel didn’t.” 

Annabeth looked at him out of the corner of her eye, suppressing a smile. 

“What!” Percy demanded, laughing at her. 

Annabeth turned to face him. “Oh, come on. They like each other! It’s so obvious.” 

Percy raised his eyebrows at her. “Leo finally got to you, huh?” 

“No, I could’ve concluded this all on my own! Think about it, all the signs are there: they always hang out together, they tell each other everything, and Hazle is constantly asking about him. Not to mention if you just watch them interact, it’s like they’re in their own world!” 

Annabeth stared at him expectantly, but rather than appearing convinced, Percy’s eyebrows were pulled together, and he was staring at her like she’d just said something alarming. It only lasted for a heartbeat, and he quickly rearranged his features into an easy smile, so convincing she almost forgot his initial reaction. Almost. 

“Okay…have you asked her about it?” His voice sounded a little robotic. 

“Well, Hazel’s not the type of person you can go right out and ask.” 

“So how can you be sure?” Percy had turned back to face the TV, but Annabeth could tell he wasn’t paying an ounce of attention to whatever Brad Pitt was saying.

“I…I guess I can’t be. But there’s something different between them. It’s not–” Annabeth could feel her brain backtracking, unsure of what to say, but terribly aware that whatever she said, he’d remember. “Well, it’s different between them than between her and Leo, or how she is with…either of us.” 

She watched Percy anxiously, desperate to know what he was thinking, but he just nodded slowly. Then, without taking his eyes off the screen in front of him, he picked up a pillow and thrust it straight at her. “Movie’s over there,” he said with a grin, pointing at the screen. 

Annabeth threw the pillow right back at him, and then two more to be thorough. She didn’t say anything more for twenty minutes. 

By the time Claire de Lune started playing, Annabeth was barely keeping her eyes open. She’d tipped over, her head resting on a pillow in the middle of the couch. Percy sat upright beside her, one arm thrown across the couch above her head. 

“What would you do with fifteen million?” he asked, while they watched the characters leave Las Vegas one by one. 

“Pay for school,” Annabeth mumbled. 

“You’d still have over ten million left.” 

“Fine. I’d start my own architecture firm, maybe. Or a foundation to restore really old buildings that have fallen into disrepair,” she said, turning onto her back and looking up at the ceiling. “What would you do?” 

Percy was silent for a minute, thinking. “I’d make sure my mom is comfortable, and I’d pay for school. But I don’t know about the rest of it, honestly. Maybe invest it in conservation efforts or something.” 

“You can work for me at my foundation,” Annabeth said with a smile, tilting her head back even farther until he came into view. “Do all the talking and such, you’re better at that than I.” 

He laughed. “Sure, I can do that.” 

When the credits rolled a few minutes later, the task of sitting up seemed insurmountable. Annabeth could have spent the night on the couch, but after switching the TV off, Percy grasped her arms and pulled her into an upright position. 

Annabeth scrubbed her eyes and began collecting her things, placing her laptop and their mugs in her bag. Percy threw away the container of cookies and his second blueberry carton, both of which they’d left empty. 

“Do you think we need to move the couch back?” He asked. 

They both considered it. “I don’t think so,” Annabeth said finally. “Let’s see if people notice. I bet they’ll like it.” 

“Works for me,” he agreed. 

Annabeth did one last sweep of the room, and then approached their lamp. “Okay, flashlights on,” she instructed, her hand hovering over the light switch. They both were plunged into darkness, save for the thin triangle of light cast by their phones. 

Percy was half-shrouded in the dark across from her. “Thanks for today, Annabeth. It was really fun.” 

“You’re welcome. I’m glad you were here for a day,” she told him, relieved that he hadn’t been bored. “See you tomorrow?” 

He smiled. “See you tomorrow. Don’t get lost on the way upstairs.” 

“You either.” 

When Annabeth turned to face the dark hallway towards the girls' dormitory, she had to fight the urge to run. That is, at least until Percy’s footsteps had disappeared in the other direction–then she practically sprinted through the ancient corridor and up the wooden stairs. By the time she reached the third-floor hallway and pushed her door open, Annabeth’s heart was pounding with adrenaline.

She flipped on her bedside lamp, casting a golden light across the wooden flooring of the room, and immediately felt better. Then she collected her things and went to the bathroom, washing her hands and face. While she brushed her teeth, Annabeth flipped through the pictures Piper had sent–food, monuments, and a not-so-subtle picture of her father's new girlfriend. She didn’t look that young. 

When Annabeth crawled into bed a few minutes later, she sent a quick text to Hazel, and set an alarm for the next morning. Then she reached up and switched off her lamp, this time inviting a cozier, more comfortable darkness. Outside, the wind whistled past, blowing snow across the lake and off every chimney top. The winter clouds had finally cleared, revealing a crescent moon hanging outside her window. Its light was the last thing Annabeth remembered before she sank into a deep sleep. 

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

The next morning, after breakfast, Percy went and gathered his bags. Annabeth joined him to help, even though he only had one duffle to carry. Although his train wasn’t scheduled until one, the shuttle Cunningham provided to bring students to the train station only ran twice each day–once in the morning and once in the evening. So, Percy was leaving early. 

“Are you sure you’ve got everything?” Annabeth asked, taking one last look around his room. 

Percy hoisted his bag onto his shoulder. “I think so. I’ll only be gone a week, so if I’ve forgotten anything it won’t be the end of the world.” 

Satisfied, Annabeth lowered the shades on his window, and they both stepped out into the hallway. Percy locked the door, and they began making their way downstairs. 

The weather was milder on Sunday than it had been the day before, with clear skies and minimal wind. The snow was no longer powdery but becoming more compacted as the temperature rose and the sun beat down on its surface. In the morning light, it was easy to spot their tracks near the lake from the day before. 

Soon enough, the two of them reached the front of the main administrative building, where a small shuttle was idling in the drive. They had been discussing what Percy could do to kill time on the train, but fell silent as they stopped beside the bus. Percy wordlessly opened his arms and Annabeth stepped into them, her cheek pressing against his black jacket. 

“Happy Thanksgiving, Percy.” 

“You too. Don’t have too much fun here without me.” 

She stepped back and smiled. “I can’t make any promises. Tell Leo I say hello.” 

“I will, he’ll be glad to know you haven’t forgotten him.” 

They stood there for a moment more, neither wanting to be the first to turn away. Before Annabeth could think too much about what she was doing, she leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. 

“Text me when you get there, okay?” 

Percy’s smile was wide as he nodded. Annabeth could see his dimples.

Chapter Text

Percy didn’t text.

In the beginning, Annabeth wasn’t bothered. She cleaned her room and washed her laundry, tossing her sheets and comforter cover in along with the rest of her clothes, using all three of the machines. Throughout the afternoon, flashes of their goodbye replayed in her mind's eye–how cold Percy’s cheek had been, how his eyebrows were lifted in surprise when she pulled away. 

Annabeth spent the latter half of the afternoon lying around, rotating between reading, wandering downstairs, scrolling on her phone, and staring outside at the snow. She found she was unable to commit to one thing for any significant amount of time, her mind leaping back to the morning at unbidden intervals. 

When the twins called her, it was a welcome reprieve from boredom. 

“Annabeth!” they sang in unison when she connected, drawing out her name. Matthew and Bobby grinned down at the screen, which seemed to be in one of their laps. “Guess what happened?” 

Annabeth raised her eyebrows. “What?” 

Glowing with pride, Boddy informed her he’d lost his first tooth. He was clearly a little freaked out over the unfamiliar gap in his mouth, but Matthew was beside himself with excitement about the tooth fairy, and the dollar coin his brother had found under his pillow the next morning. Annabeth practically had to convince Matthew not to pull out his own tooth in an effort to get a coin of his own.

By the time she said goodbye, the sun had sunk below the horizon. She stared through the windowpane at the woods, now cloaked in darkness and dusted with snow. They were simultaneously inviting and disarming. A disturbance within the forest sent a flurry of birds soaring above the tree line, spiraling away into the night. 

Annabeth turned away, glancing at the time: 6:17. Realizing it was later than she’d thought, she quickly pulled a red sweater over her head and switched off her lamp, before hurrying downstairs. The walk through the snow to dinner felt longer and colder without a companion, and her mind drifted to where her friends were at that moment. 

When she stepped inside, Annabeth discovered that she was the only student left at school. Mr. Grigsby, who remained in his usual spot at the head of the table,  greeted her with a pleasant smile. He had abandoned his wool jacket for a more casual sweater, and Annabeth found it made him look decidedly more approachable. 

She pulled out a chair. “Just the two of us left, is it?” 

“I must confess, it’s a relief to only be responsible for one of you. I trust you’ll stay out of trouble?” 

She laughed. “You don’t need to worry. I do this every year.”

“I’m sorry your friend left.” He fixed her with a piercing stare over the prongs of his fork. “You two are awfully well-suited.” 

Annabeth didn’t know what to say to that. 

Grigsby nodded to himself, vigorously cutting apart his pork. “Anyhow. I don’t know him, but I do remember you from the last time I supervised a vacation. You were a great deal shorter at the time–it must have been at least five years ago.” 

Annabeth returned to the dishes laid on the table in front of her and listened to his vague descriptions, feeling fairly convinced he was adding details from another student he’d mistakenly mixed in with her. Eventually, she inquired about his own work, and Grigsby was more than content to discuss the book he was writing on the Peloponnesian War. Annabeth managed to remember a few points about the conflict and offered them intermittently to inspire further detailed explanations through the rest of the evening. 

To Annabeth’s relief, he was happy to let her go early, and so she bid him goodnight and trudged back to her dormitory just before seven. Her breath came in puffs in front of her, while the cold air numbed her nose and chin. 

Annabeth paused on the sidewalk and tilted her head back, revealing a stunningly clear view of the night sky. As her gaze landed on Cygnus, she remembered how she’d pointed it out to Percy months ago. It would be impossible for him to see tonight from the city. Maybe he was instead at his kitchen table playing a board game with Sally, or wandering around Central Park with Leo. 

Back in her room, Annabeth sat propped against her wall among a mountain of pillows. Her legs were folded under her, and a mug full of warm tea rested on her pajama pants. 

Her brows were furrowed in concentration as she looked thoughtfully at her phone, where Percy’s contact glowed on the screen. Her thumbs flew as she typed. 

Hope your train got in on time! 

She worried her lip, staring at the message, and then added another. 

It’s been boring here without you. 

Seconds after she pressed send, Annabeth shut her phone off and tossed it at the foot of her bed, where it lay out of reach. She was nervous, which was ridiculous, since there was nothing out of the ordinary about texting Percy. Surely, he was busy with his family and enjoying his time back home. 

Annabeth barely lasted all of two minutes before she crawled forward and snatched up her phone, checking for a response. Quickly burying the flare of disappointment in her stomach when there was none, Annabeth plugged her phone in and dropped it on her desk. Then, she snuggled under her covers, a book in one hand and her mug of tea clasped in the other. Thinking on it more wouldn’t lead her anywhere. 

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Percy didn’t respond to her in the morning. In fact, he ignored her messages completely. As the silence extended beyond Sunday and into the week, each passing day Annabeth became increasingly concerned. It was highly uncharacteristic of Percy, and she found herself checking for a notification more and more, feeling worse each time there was none. More than once, she typed another message and stared at it for a long time before deleting the whole thing. 

Annabeth’s days consisted of wandering aimlessly through every empty room and eating breakfast and dinner with Mr. Grigsby. She won seven rounds of solitaire and lost about thirty more, and even tried playing chess with herself. 

With nothing else to distract her thoughts, Annabeth spent hours poring over the final day she and Percy had spent together, desperate to uncover why he’d abruptly gone silent. Relentlessly, she picked apart every conversation and expression, straining to recall exact words, telling inflections, or any subtle kindnesses and insults she might’ve missed. Quite willingly, her mind supplied various distortions. 

Ultimately, Annabeth was positive it had to do with her. Percy just wouldn’t ignore a friend without a good reason, one that clearly she was missing. A few times, she scrolled through her camera roll, as if pictures might reveal what Ananbeth couldn’t see in person. Predictably, the only thing that accomplished was making her feel significantly worse. 

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Thursday was terrible. The god-forsaken day just wouldn’t end. 

To begin, Annabeth slept longer than she intended, straight through breakfast. She sat up in bed and scrubbed her eyes, which were puffy and swollen from sleep, and immediately emailed Mr. Grigsby. He responded in minutes, informing her it was quite all right and that he’d left some scones out for her. Tacked on the sign-off, he’d wished her a happy Thanksgiving. 

Annabeth rolled out of bed and pulled on a pair of soft grey pants, followed by a striped blue and white shirt, which buttoned down the front. It was far too large for her, but she liked that. Then, she pulled her matted hair into a knot on top of her head and trudged downstairs, bleary with sleep. 

The cold air that hit her face was punishing, and Annabeth tilted her chin down, attempting to protect her cheeks. When she eventually arrived at the dining room, her eyes were watering from the wind. 

True to his word, Mr. Grigsby had left a small platter of scones on the sideboard. Annabeth was grateful to find a bowl with butter and jam beside it, which countered the exceedingly dry texture of the pastry. 

Annabeth leaned against the wall with her scone, pulling out her phone. She responded to a message from her father, who was hoping to call her later that day, and perused through a fresh series of photos from Piper. Hazel had sent a Thanksgiving text to their group chat, as well as a private paragraph to Annabeth, which drew a smile. Unsurprisingly, for the fourth day in a row there was no word from Percy. She shoved her phone back into her pocket. 

Instead of passing the time in her room, which was beginning to feel a bit like a cage, Annabeth carried in a pile of wood from outside and set up camp in front of the fireplace. The kindling caught on quickly, and soon flames were licking up the chimney and filling the common room with a familiar crackle. Annabeth settled herself in front of it, feeling the heat on her back, and placed her laptop in front of her. 

As he’d promised, Annabeth received a call from her father promptly at noon. She let it ring once or twice before answering. 

He looked the same as ever–messy hair, square glasses, and a smattering of unshaven stubble across his jaw. The familiar painting of a ship behind his head signaled he was in his study. 

She offered a smile. “Hi, Dad.” 

“Annabeth!” He cleared his throat, leaning close to the screen. “Happy Thanksgiving. It’s good to see you.” 

“How are you?” 

“Oh, well, you know…I’m busy–lots of midterms to grade–and the department chair wants a progress report on my research by the middle of December.” 

Annabeth nodded sympathetically. “Do you think you’ll get it done in time?” 

“I’m not too concerned.” 

There was a beat of silence. “Are you, um, doing anything special today?” she asked, before things got uncomfortable. 

“Well, the twins and their mother went on some kind of hike this morning–” 

“–A turkey trot?” she interjected, laughing. 

“Yes, that sounds right. I didn’t go, but Helen has been running around all afternoon since, preparing the house. She’s having her sisters over tonight, and the cousins.” 

Annabeth’s smile faltered. “Oh. Well, that sounds nice.”

Another silence. 

“It’s a shame you can’t be here,” he amended. Then, “Is the school doing anything special tonight?” 

Annabeth fought the urge to glower at her screen. The only reason she wasn’t there was that he didn’t care enough to fly her out–it had nothing to do with whether she could or couldn’t make the trip. 

“There’s nothing going on here,” she told him flatly. “It’s just me and one other teacher. He’s a historian, too.” 

She watched her father’s expression brighten. “Is he? Do you know which period he studies?” 

Annabeth looked at him halfheartedly, waiting a second longer to see if he’d give any thought at all to his daughter spending the holiday alone with a teacher fifty years older. He didn’t. 

“Ancient Mediterranean is his specialty, I think.” 

“Oh, fascinating, fascinating! Maybe I’ll get a chance to talk to him at your graduation…” 

“Yeah, maybe.” 

There was another silence. Annabeth, no longer willing to ask questions and force the conversation to carry on, waited to see if her father had anything to say. When he didn’t, she lifted her hand and waved. 

“Thanks for calling, Dad. Tell the twins I say hello.” 

He smiled. “Okay. I’m glad to see you doing so well. Happy Thanksgiving, I’ll see you at Christmas!”

She slammed her computer shut just in time to hear the call disconnect. 

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“How about we both say something we’re grateful for?” 

Annabeth looked up from her untouched plate of food. Her head was pounding. “Oh. Of course, good idea.” 

In the dim light, Mr. Grigsby folded his hands in front of him on the table, looking thoughtful. “I’ll lead us. Let’s see…I’m thankful for my good health, and the health of my daughter.” 

He has a daughter? 

“And I’m grateful for the opportunity to live in such a peaceful, beautiful place where I continue my studies of history, which I’ve always loved. And of course, for my students, who invigorate and inspire me every day.” 

When he finished speaking, he looked up expectantly. Annabeth scrambled to formulate her own response. 

“Well…I’m grateful for the opportunity to study at Cunningham, and for the friends I’ve made here.” Her voice echoed off the walls as she spoke.

“Anything else?” Grigsby prompted.  

She thought about Matthew and Bobby. “My family.” 

He smiled warmly, and reached for the decanter of water. “Well, Ms. Chase, I would say we both are in quite fortunate positions.” 

Annabeth nodded, wincing when it made her headache worse. She picked up her fork, stirring the clump of mashed potatoes on her plate. “I didn’t know you had a daughter.” 

He visibly brightened. “I do! She’s working in Ireland this fall as a researcher, and no break for Thanksgiving, of course.  But I’m visiting at Christmas.” 

“How old is she?” 

“Thirty. She just got married last year, so really, I have a son now, too.” 

“Do you like him?” 

“Oh, I feel as if I’ve known him my whole life,” Mr. Grigsby laughed. “He’s got quite a sense of humor, and a wicked sharp mind. I thought he was a bit aloof at first, but it was only because I didn’t know him yet.” 

Annabeth marveled at her professor's clear adoration for them both. She was suddenly struck with a bizarre image of her own father speaking about her that way, and even stranger,  anyone she might one day marry. It was so jarring that she nearly laughed out loud. 

“What is it?” Mr. Grigsby inquired, noticing her smile. 

Annabeth sighed, quieting herself. “Sorry. I’m just thinking about my Dad.” 

“Ah. Is he funny?” 

Annabeth managed to keep a straight face. “Not particularly, no. He isn’t very expressive at all, frankly.” 

“He’s not an actor, I hope?” Grigsby quipped. 

Annabeth smiled. “No, thankfully. He’s a professor of history.” 

Grigsby raised his eyebrows, clearly intrigued. “Is he now? What’s his specialty?” 

“World War One,” Annabeth responded, suddenly struck with a strong sense of déja-vu. “Maybe you two can talk at graduation.” 

“I’d like that,” Grigsby noted, his eyes twinkling. 

Annabeth smiled back, and returned to her food. 

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Later that night, Annabeth was perched in front of her desk. She was distantly aware of her aching limbs, crammed haphazardly under her. On the desk was a pile of toothpicks, wooden coffee stirrers, cardboard, wire, an X-Acto knife, and a hot glue gun, which she stared down at with stinging eyes. 

Amid the pile of materials, a miniature model of a gazebo emerged. Its walls were straight, the roof set at a perfect incline, meeting high in the middle. There were steps leading up to it and a railing going around the interior. 

Despite all this, Annabeth appeared deeply unsatisfied. She stared down at her creation, noticing the misaligned joints of the rafters, an uneven post, and the exorbitant, messy clumps of glue covering the whole thing. Resisting the urge to swipe the gazebo onto the floor, she forced herself to collect the remaining materials and return them to her stash of supplies, instead. 

Annabeth took a deep breath. She focused on picking a clump of glue off her desk, and then sat back in her chair. The hands of her clock signified that it was a little past midnight, and a satisfied voice in the back of her head celebrated that her least favorite holiday had once again come and gone, without leaving her any worse for wear. 

Annabeth carefully picked up her gazebo and placed it on her windowsill, where it stood flanked by candles and succulents. Finding her left foot had fallen asleep, she gave it a thorough shake before flopping down on her mattress. While staring blankly at the ceiling, Annabeth’s mind wandered, no longer occupied by gluing and cutting. 

She saw Matthew and Bobby running circles around their aunts and uncles, stealing second and third helpings of dessert, and Helen and her father tucking them into bed later after the sugar had worn off. She imagined Piper wandering through an old street, the sun setting in the sky above her, laughing with Tristan and arguing over a dessert pastry. Hazel sat on a piano bench beside her father, singing along as he played, while Percy and his mother laughed as they paged through an old book of photos. 

Pressing a hand over her eyes, Annabeth switched off her lamp, cloaking everything in darkness. It made her profoundly aware of how empty not only her room felt, but the entire building, too. 

She tugged at her pillows and hugged one over her face. This was something she could handle. This was something she’d dealt with before. It was just the way things were. 

 Hot, bitter tears slid down her cheeks.