Archive of Our Own ^beta

I slammed the phone back in its place on my desk. Somehow my Father always managed to spring things on me last minute; whether it was a family dinner or a new wife. This time, he had called to tell me that in my absence, he had hired a new architect for the construction of our new building. Somehow, it had slipped his mind until said architect had called him, making sure it was today she was supposed to start work.
I felt a pang in my chest for Miami. My week-long, yearly vacation had been more than perfect. My best friend since childhood – Grover - had come along, and we had spent the week on the beach, flirting with random girls and partying. Ah, the life.
Now that I was back in New York, running my Father's multimillion dollar company for him, I remembered why I had never wanted to work for him. Busy schedules, annoying co-workers, and hardly any time to eat lunch most days.
Earth-shaker Inc. was a company dedicated to creating a healthy lifestyle for everyone in America. This meant we produced everything from surfboards to vacuum cleaners to frozen dinners. We were one of the top company's in the country right now; which meant my Father wanted a bigger headquarters.
We'd already had a fantastic architect, but he quit due to my Father's ever-changing demands. Now that Dad has hired a new architect, I can only hope she's ready for the taxing job of designing for my Dad.
My intercom buzzed; I hit the button for my secretary to talk.
“The new architect your Father hired is here Mr. Jackson.” Kate informed me sweetly.
“Send her in.”
A minute later, there was a knock on my office door. I loosened my tie and said, “Come in!” What I was expecting, was not what I got.
The woman that walked in was tall, slim, and blonde. With curly hair and long legs. She was dressed in a black pencil skirt and white blouse; her heels clicked on the wood floor of my office. Honestly, she was probably the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.
“Mr. Jackson?” she asked. I nodded, indicating for her to sit in the chair on the other side of my desk.
“Your name is?” I asked, shaking her hand firmly.
“I'm Annabeth Chase. I understand your Father hired me while you were away?”
“Yes, I was uh . . . unaware of your employment until. . . Today actually.”
Annabeth pursed her lips. She spread out her designs on my desk, not wasting a second in telling me what each thing meant.
“Are you sure you want that there?” I asked, not meaning to be rude.
She held her head high. “Are you questioning my design skills?”
“That's not-”
“If you had a degree in architecture, I would take you a lot more seriously with your suggestions. Seeing that you don't-”
“What makes you think I don't?” I said smartly, not liking her tone of voice.
She cocked her head. “If you did, I doubt your Father would be wasting money hiring me, Seaweed Brain.”
“What makes you think you're so great?” I narrowed my eyes at her.
“Who said I did?”
“Well you sure act like it.”
She raised her eyebrows.
“You know I could fire you at any second right?”
“You wouldn't.
“How do you know I won't? There's plenty of architects to choose from.”
She scoffed. “I'm the only one that will keep up to your Father's demands. I was the only one willing to take this job.”
So, she was the only choice here. Damn. She was hot but she sure was arrogant. So if I couldn't fire her for being smart with me, I was just going to have to be smart back.
“Well then I guess you're stuck here aren't you?”
She nodded stiffly. “With his pretentious son.”
I chuckled. “If I'm pretentious than you're audacious.”
“Touché,” she said. “And points for the vocab word.”
I smirked.
She resumed talking about her design plans. This time, I listened intently. Around five in the evening I decided I was bored and needed to go home, so I stopped her in the middle of explaining the second floor features and suggested we pick up tomorrow. She pursed her lips but complied.
I held open my office door for her, shoving my smart-phone and wallet in my pocket. She walked out the door, her hips swaying.
“If you're not busy,” I started, thinking only of the fact that she was hot and there was no wedding ring on her finger. “Can I buy you dinner?” I smirked at her surprised expression, but she regained her composer faster than she had lost it. Her eyes hardened.
“I'd rather stab my own eyes out.” she spit, then turned on her heel and sauntered to the elevator.
Well then.
I walked, hurt, to Kate's desk. She was a tiny woman with mousy brown hair and matching eyes. She was biting her lip like she had heard the exchange between Annabeth and me, and was trying not to laugh.
“Bad day, Mr. Jackson?” Kate asked, her breath catching, accidentally letting a small giggle out of her mouth.
I scowled at her. “Call for Jake to bring my car around will you?”
I stood, leaning against her desk, as she called for my car to be drove around to the front of the building.
“She'll come around eventually, sir.” Kate assured me, letting it slip she had heard our conversation.
“I'm sure.” I said sarcastically.
In truth, I didn't really care that she had turned me down. She irritated me with her smart-mouth comments, but it's not like I could fire her. I took her word; she was the only architect in the country that would take this job.
When I got to the lobby of my Father's building, I walked out the front doors and Jake opened the back door of my black Lexus for me to climb in. I hated driving in the city – too much stopping and going for me – so my Dad hired Jake for me to drive me around when I was in New York.
One weekend a month, I took my Ferrari out into the country and met my Mom and Step-dad at our lake house. I loved driving fast, but with the crowded streets of the city I never could. So of course the logical thing for me to do was buy another house outside the city limits. Unfortunately, I wasn't going this month since I had been in Miami the weekend I was scheduled to go. Work clogged my next two weekends this month. It would be a while until I saw my Mom.
My apartment was only a ten minute drive from where I worked, but could take up to an hour in bad traffic. That specific night, it was bad traffic. I leaned my head back on my seat and groaned.
“Oh, my God.”
“I know, Mr. Jackson. I apologize for the delay-” Jake said, looking back at me through the rear-view mirror.
“No, no, Jake. It's not your fault. I'm just tired, that's all.” I reassured him, tugging a hand through my hair.
Finally, after an hour and half of rush hour traffic, we pulled up to the front door of my apartment building.
“See you at seven, Jake.” I mumbled as I popped open the door and jumped out.
I walked into the lobby and sauntered up to the front receptionist to grab my mail. Tony, the doorman, handed me a stack of mail and tipped his hat in my direction.
“Any floor news?” I asked the old man. He smiled toothily.
“Looks like you have a new neighbor.”
“Ah. Just what I need.”
“Good luck, Mr. Jackson.” Tony pressed the button for the elevator and the doors opened with a ding. I smiled at him a climbed into the elevator.
I patted my pockets as I neared my floor; phone, check. Wallet, check. Keys . . . not there. Dammit, where'd I put my keys? I frantically patted my front and back pockets, searching for my house key. I looked in the folds of my wallet, in between my phone and its case, nowhere. Don't worry, I told myself, there's a spare key in the flower pot by the door.
The elevator doors opened and I jumped out onto my floor. There were only four, very spacious apartments on this floor; and I knew two were vacant, well, one now apparently. But not many people could afford living here at Garden Towers, so it had to be someone rich and powerful. I wondered idly if I would ever meet them.
I turned the corner to my door – across from me was one of the supposedly empty apartments so I decided I would have to be quiet from now on . . . not that I was loud before. I started digging through the little plant that sat in the corner by the door. I moved the dirt around, searching for my spare key. Just my luck, it wasn't there. I checked under the pot, under the welcome mat, I even went so far as to run my hands over the top of the door, hoping I had maybe put it there on accident. No luck.
“Fuck!” I said, a little too loudly. It was too late that I realized what I had done, and slapped my hand over my mouth.
The door behind me creaked open. I was scared to turn around.
“I thought I heard the sound of cockiness and misfortune.” A woman's voice said behind me – a familiar woman's voice actually.
I didn't want to turn around. Partly because I was afraid I was right about who it was, partly because I was embarrassed I had just dropped the F-bomb in the middle of a hallway. I closed my eyes and turned.
Of course, just my luck. Miss Annabeth Chase stood in the doorway behind me. I was too busy wondering how the hell she could afford the rent here to realize she was waiting for me to say something.
“I lost my keys.” I said stupidly.
“And here I thought you were all professional and stuff. Turns out you're just an idiot with a rich daddy. No surprise there.” She said, crossing her arms and leaning on the door frame.
She had changed clothes, and now she was in yoga pants and a tank top. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a knot. She was barefoot.
“I'm offended,” I held my heart with my hand.
I grabbed my phone out of my pocket and dialed maintenance. Lucky for me, I had set the fire alarm off so many times I had them on speed dial.
“Mr. Jackson, is this you?” I recognized Fred – the maintenance guy – speaking into the phone. Apparently I was the only one that ever called. Tony thought that was pretty funny. “Did you get locked out of your house again?”
“Har har har,” I said, aware that Annabeth was still watching me on the phone. “No need to make fun.”
“You did didn't you?”
“Yes. Will you come up please?” I relented.
“If I make any more spare keys for you, the entire state of New York will end up with keys to your apartment!” Fred exclaimed, hanging up the phone.
I shoved my phone back in my pocket and leaned against the door.
“Don't you have anything better to do other than laugh at my current predicament?” I asked Annabeth.
She nodded thoughtfully. “Two things. Again, points for the whole 'current predicament' thing. You needed that after the whole ' fuck' thing. Second, I have plenty of other things to do, but it'll be funny watching you struggle to get into your apartment. And I'm all about laughing at other people.”
“You underestimate my vocabulary.” I said, leaning my head on the door, wishing Fred would hurry up.
“You kind of brought that on yourself Mr.” she pointed out.
I remembered with horror that there were two kids that lived on this floor. . . Austin and Andrea Gold – their parents owned a successful jewelry company. I hoped to God that they weren't home tonight.
“You're irritating, you know that?” I asked Annabeth, watching as her gray eyes narrowed.
“And you're an insufferable rich brat that thinks he's entitled to everything he wants.” she spat.
I put my hands up in surrender. “Okay, back up. You've known me for what? Six hours and you think you know everything about me? Who do you think you are?”
“The same could be said for you.” she raised an eyebrow.
I raked a hand through my messy hair and sighed as the elevator dinged and Fred walked over to me.
“I've got the key, Mr. Jackson.” Fred handed me a silver key, his dark eyes crinkling as he chuckled.
“Thank you, Fred.”
I turned towards my door. I heard Fred talking to Annabeth.
“He gets locked out at least once a week.” he told her. I ignored them, walking into my apartment and closing the door with my foot. I heard Annabeth laugh through the word door and I turned the lock irritability.
I couldn't believe I was being forced to work with such a smart-mouth, cheeky, arrogant woman. And then, to make matters worse, I find out she's living next door to me? I called my dad, huffing into the phone as I lounged on the couch.
“Dad, what did you do?” I asked as soon as he answered.
“What?” yeah, yeah, like I'm going to believe this nonsense.
“How much are you paying Miss Chase, Dad?”
“Why?”
“Because she's now living right next door to me, and there's no way she could afford rent here.” I said.
“Well along with a salary, I offered to pay for her living expenses, considering she came all the way from Virginia to work for you.” he explained. “But I have her renting a place at Garden Towers, you live in-”
“Dad?”
“Yes?”
“I live in Garden Towers.”
“Oh. . . “
“Yeah.”
“I still don't see the problem.” he insisted.
“She's a bold smart-mouth that has no respect for me!” I whined. I realized I was probably acting like a brat, but Annabeth had acted in such an unprofessional way towards me, I'd since decided to treat her the same way.
“That's exactly why I hired her!” My Dad exclaimed.
“Are you kidding me?”
“No. I thought you could use someone that put you in your place from time to time. Do you even remember what it was like before we had money?”
I thought back through twenty-five years of memories. The earliest I remembered was living in a small apartment with my parents. Soon after that they had gotten divorced and my Dad had started his multimillion dollar company. My mom started work as a novelist with her new English professor boyfriend, and I got shipped back and forth every other weekend. I hadn't minded, I was so small when they split, I hardly knew what was going on.
“I do.” I said, then hung up on him without another word.
I was tired, and not in the mood to eat. So I kicked my uncomfortable dress shoes off and shrugged out of my work clothes before crawling under the warm coverlet of my huge bed.

===================================
CHAPTER TWO

The next morning, I was horrified to find Annabeth walking out of her apartment the same time I was. I was trying to straighten my tie and lock my front door while simultaneously eating a piece of peanut butter toast, needless to say, it didn't work out so well.
“Multitasking,” Annabeth cooed from behind me as she watched my struggle in the hallway. “Good for the brain. And you could use it.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” I mumbled, not knowing if she had heard me or not considering I had food in my mouth.
She just rolled her eyes and stalked to the elevator. I followed after her, expecting her to hold the door open for me. But of course she wouldn't be that nice. She smirked as she pressed the button and the doors closed before I could get in. I grumbled some not-so-nice words and leaned against the wall to wait for the elevator to come back.
I gritted my teeth together as the elevator made its slow descent down to the lobby. How was I supposed to work with someone that disrespected me constantly? Did that woman have no manners? How dare she act this way towards me, her boss. The fact I couldn't fire her made my hands shake with furry; I loosened my tie.
As I walked outside, I realized my car was nowhere to be found. I called Jake, but he didn't answer. I walked up to Tony and asked him where my car was.
“A blonde woman came down here and said you were running late. She told Jake you said to take her to the office.”
I gaped at Tony. Was he serious right now?
“From the face you're giving me, I'm guessing that isn't true?” Tony stifled a laugh. I shook my head, in complete shock that she would steal my car . . . and my driver would believe her. I was going to have to have a serious talk with Jake about letting strange blonde women control him.
“I can't believe she stole my car.” I muttered, then asked Tony to call me a cab.
Due to Miss Chase's little stunt, by the time I got to work, I was a half hour late. Kate raised her eyebrows at me as I slugged into my office, grumbling angrily.
Annabeth was sitting in the chair by my desk, thumbing through her blueprints. Her hair was down, creating a sort of curtain around her face as she looked down. I closed my office door quietly behind me, being careful she didn't hear me. She was so concentrated on her papers, she didn't even notice when I threw myself into my chair. Or maybe she wasn't as concentrated as I thought, because as soon as I rolled up to the desk she said, “Your move, Seaweed Brain.”
She smirked and rolled up her blueprints, moving to the chair across from mine.
“You've got a lot of nerve, stealing my car like that.” I leaned back in my seat, eying her suspiciously.
“It was way too easy,” she told me. “You might want to talk to your driver about letting random people boss him around.”
“He probably thought you were pretty,” I explained.
“Ah.” Annabeth raised one eyebrow – like she didn't believe that explanation.
She unrolled her blueprints again; starting where she left off on the second floor plans. The tone of her voice as she spoke was sarcastic and arrogant. It was annoyingly attractive.
As she talked, her gray eyes sparkled with excitement. She flattened the paper out on my desk with a swift flick of her wrist. She didn't meet my eyes once.
It was noon before I politely suggested we break for lunch – since she was still explaining the second floor out of twenty, and I was extremely hungry. She stuck her nose in the air and agreed, stuffing her papers in her bag and strutting out of the room . . . she had a really good butt.
I sighed and rose from my chair, walking after her. She wasn't out by the elevator, so I curiously asked Kate where she was.
“She already went downstairs, Mr. Jackson.” She said carefully.
I swore, running to the elevator door and punching the button hard. If she took my car again I swear to God. . .
The elevator doors opened and Miss Chase stood with her weight balanced on one foot and a smirk on her face. I blew the air out of my mouth and stomped into the elevator.
“I hate you; you know that right?” I said, crossing my arms and gritting my teeth as the elevator started it's descent to ground level.
“It's too bad you can't fire Me.” she snorted.
“Oh, I wish I could.”
She smiled evilly and strolled out of the elevator as the doors open. I rushed to the front doors, to see her talking to Jake. She was twirling her hair around her finger and smiling. That siren was flirting with the poor guy.
“Jake!” I shouted.
Jake looked up, the dreamy look on his face was replaced with a terrified one. He scrambled to open the door for me as I stomped towards him, my hands stuffed in my pockets.
“I'm so sorry, Mr. Jackson. It won't happen again, I-I-” Jake said, his voice trembling in fear . . . of me?
“Jake, calm down. It's fine.” I waved off his apology and settled into the backseat of the car.
I didn't realize Annabeth was sliding in next to me until the car door shut and Jake was driving off.
“What do you think you're doing?” I spat, inching away from her.
“You said we should break for lunch. Doesn't that normally mean that you're buying?” she asked innocently.
I shook my head, but didn't reply. I hate my Dad.
“Where to, Percy?” Jake slipped, but realized his mistake and corrected it. “I mean, Mr. Jackson. Sorry about that sir.”
“It's fine. How about Monte’s?” I said.
Jake nodded through the rear-view mirror.
“So. . . Percy, any suggestions about the new headquarters?” Annabeth giggled.
Great. Now she knows my first name. If we weren't already going down, it would be all downhill from here. I clenched my teeth and counted to ten before answering her.
“I don't. But you might want to double or triple check with my Dad before you start construction.” I said carefully.
“So you like the plans?” She asked.
“Well I wouldn't know. All we've talked about is the damn second floor!” I exclaimed, letting my annoyance at her get the best of me.
“Not true! I talked about the first floor too!”
“For five minutes! It's going to take the rest of the month to get to the twentieth floor!”
She pursed her lips. “I have a lot of ideas.”
“Which is honestly surprising considering you're blonde.” I mumbled.
“What did you just say to me?” She growled.
“Nothing!” I put my hands up in surrender, although I'm pretty sure that's not what she wanted.
“I cannot believe you!”
I really thought she was going to slap me across the face. What she did was even worse.
Jake pulled up to the curb outside of the restaurant and rushed around the car to open the back door for us. Annabeth shot me a smirk, then slid out of the car, her heels clicking on the sidewalk. Even in her heels she was a few inches shorter than me, I noticed as I jumped out of the car next to her.
I thought about holding the door open for her as we walked into Monte's, but my chivalry was overruled by my need for revenge. The door slammed in her face, causing her to cry out. I turned and smiled at her as she angrily swung the door open. I told the hostess we needed a table for two.
“Just so we're clear,” I said as we sat down at a small table in the back of the crowded restaurant. “This is not a date.”
Annabeth scoffed. “Of course not. I would never go on a date with you.”
I sneered at her, hiding my face with my menu.
The waitress came to take our orders. I asked for my usual, and she smiled and said, “Of course Mr. Jackson.” Then she turned to Annabeth. I swear to God, she ordered everything on the menu. I'm not even exaggerating. The waitress left with a questioning look on her face.
Annabeth put her menu down and smiled at me sweetly. I gaped at her.
“You. . .” I shook my head, unable to put what I was thinking into words.
Annabeth bit back a smile.
Wow . . . so her plan is to make me go broke from spending $800 on lunch. Hah.
“You probably think you just got me good don't you?” I asked.
She nodded.
“Jokes on you, Sweetheart,” I said sarcastically, holding up my wallet. “In case you've forgotten, my Dad's a millionaire.” my mouth tugged into a smile.
Her smirk turned into a look of utter disgust. “You're such an ass.”
“You're such a dumb blonde.” I smiled.
She was obviously not a dumb blonde, but I knew it would get under her skin, so of course I said it. I saw her jaw lock and her eyes narrow and I thought for sure she would flip me over the table this time. But when she didn't, she just shot me a smile like she was thinking of something funny. That wasn't a good sign.
We ate quickly. Annabeth ended up telling the waitress to just box all of her order up. When I got the bill, I had to bite my tongue to keep from crying. $12.99 times about 100 menu items equals a lot of fricking cash. I shook my head as I watched the waitress walk away with a handful of my money. Did I mention I hate my Dad?
I did not want to go back to the office to listen to Annabeth ramble about her stupid architecture. In fact, I'd rather throw myself off a cliff into a vat of hot oil. Unfortunately, I had no idea where to find a vat of hot oil big enough for me, or a cliff in New York City, so I had to endure the rest of the day with Annabeth.
Kate smiled at us when we walked onto the floor. I mouthed, “Shoot me.” She laughed and shooed me into my office after Annabeth.
“Can we just cover the most important points?” I asked, realizing too late I was whining again.
Annabeth pursed her lips.
“I assume you're used to getting everything you want?”
“Eh, more or less.” I admitted.
“The answer is no.” She took out her blueprints once again and laid them flat on my desk.
“Damn.” I fell back into my chair, rubbing my eyes tiredly.
“Oh, does poor baby Percy need a nap?” She asked in a very offensive voice that most people reserved for babies and dogs. Apparently I was included in those categories.
“Can we just get on with it, please?” I said irritability, pinching the bridge of my nose between my fingers. Have I told you how much I hate my Dad?

The next morning, I was happy to walk out of my apartment and not be greeted by Annabeth. I was secretly hoping she had gotten food poisoning from her meal at Monte's the previous day. But then I got really scared, guessing that she probably stole my car again. I rushed down the stairs. I had no time to wait for that stupid elevator.
I silently thanked God when I rushed out of the service door and saw my car waiting at the front door, Jake leaning against the hood whistling.
“Did Annabeth try to hustle a ride from you again this morning?” I asked Jake as he pulled the door open for me to get in.
“She tried sir, but I called her a taxi and told her to fuck off.” Jake admitted, blush covering his cheeks.
“Jake?”
“Yes, Mr. Jackson?” Jake asked nervously, obviously thinking he had done something wrong, when it was the exact opposite.
“You're getting a raise.” I told him.
He stuttered, pushing out a thank you, smiling all the way to my office building.
I thought that was a pretty good victory for the day, and I was feeling pretty good about myself – thanks to Jake – as I took the elevator to the top floor. I smiled brightly at Kate, and she commented on how happy I looked. “New girlfriend Mr. Jackson?” she teased.
I assumed Annabeth would be waiting for me in my office like the day before, but she wasn't. I didn't dwell on where she was, the longer I had to myself, the better the day would be. I sank into my chair.
BEEEEEEEEEP!
“ARGH!” I screamed, jumping up out of my seat. “What the hell!?”
The sound of laughter came from inside the coat closet on the other side of the room. The door opened to reveal Annabeth, clutching her stomach in laughter, tears rolling down her face.
“Very mature, Chase!” I yelled. “We're pulling elementary school pranks on each other now? You better watch your back.”
I reached down under my chair and ripped the air horn off of my chair. It was a little hard considering it was attached to it with duct tape. I threw it on the floor by her feet. Annabeth was still laughing hysterically.
I stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind me. I ran a hand through my hair angrily. Kate seemed confused by my sudden change of emotion, but I walked right past her and headed for the elevator.
Twenty minutes later I was back at the office, a pretty white box in my hands. Kate raised her eyebrows as I smiled at her and stalked back into my office. Annabeth was sitting at my desk, biting back laughter and looking over her blueprints. She turned towards the door when I walked in the room.
“So, I thought about it.” I explained slowly. “And I decided since we have to work together for God knows how long, we should call a truce.” I put the box on my desk and untied the purple ribbons holding it closed.
Annabeth looked suspicious, but she leaned back in her chair and watched me closely as I spoke.
“So, I went out and got you this as an I'm-sorry present.” I took the chocolate cake out of the box and sat it in front of her.
“What do you say? Truce?”
I moved to stand behind her slowly, she didn't notice me at all.
“I think I can agree to that-” She started, but was interrupted by me smashing her face into the cake.
Annabeth screamed, pulling back from the cake and standing up. She twirled towards me, her cake-covered face contorted in anger. Somehow, she still managed to look hot.
“I'll get you for this, Jackson!” she stepped forward and yelled in my face.
“Oh, it's on, Chase!”
“UGH!” Annabeth stomped her foot and ran out of the room, grabbing her bag and blueprints and taking them with her.
A small sliver of me felt bad for smashing her face into a cake. Had I gone too far? But the huge part of me that wasn't filled with guilt, felt empowered. So she wanted to play dirty? We would play dirty. Just wait until she saw what I was capable of. She thought I was some spoiled rich kid that always got what I wanted? Well that's exactly what I was. I had resources and money that she didn't have. No one was better at revenge than me.
Kate was standing up at her desk, her eyes wide. There was chunks on cake on the floor from where Annabeth had ran through to the elevator.
“Mr. Jackson, what happened?” she exclaimed worriedly.
I leaned against her desk, smirking. “Things are about to get a little crazy around here, Kate. I suggest you stay out of the crossfire.”
She nodded, still looking at the frosting smeared on the floor.

My Mom called me as soon as I walked in the door of my apartment that afternoon. Apparently my Dad had told my Mom about the little situation with the new architect.
I loved my Mom. She kept me humble during all the years of back and forth between her and Dad. While my Dad was making millions of dollars and buying me whatever I wanted, she was writing indie novels, hardly making enough money to pay the rent. She reminded me constantly that not everyone was as lucky as I was when I was at Dad's.
When Paul and my Mom started dating, he became like a second Father to me. In a lot of ways, he was more of a Father to me than my biological Dad ever was. When I turned twenty-one, my Dad offered me the position of CEO at his company, and I've been working for him ever since.
“What is this I hear about a new architect you can't get along with?” Sally asked me as I kicked my shoes off and sank into my bed.
“Oh man, Mom. She's awful.”
I went on to explain everything that had happened since she started working for me – two days ago. Sally listened in silence, humming and gasping when it was appropriate.
“You should be nice to her, Sweetie. Don't prank her back.” My Mom advised.
“But, Mom-”
“No buts, Perseus. You listen to your Mother or I'll come up there myself and drag you to her house to apologize.”
I groaned. “Okay, Mom.”
She hung up soon after, telling me she loved me and reminding me to apologize to Annabeth forty times over. I promised I would call her soon.
I changed my clothes before muddling across the hallway to talk to Annabeth. I threw on jeans and a zip up hoodie over my t-shirt.
I rapped my knuckles on Annabeth's front door a few times, rolling back on my heels as I waiting for her to answer. The door creaked open after a minute or two, Annabeth peaked out through the crack, then sighed and made to slam the door in my face. I stuck my foot in-between the door and the wall as she closed it, and I cried out in pain.
“What do you want you jerk?” she yelled. With each word she slammed the door into my foot some more.
“I just wanted to apologize!” I choked. My foot felt like it was about to fall off.
“Yeah right.” she slammed the door even harder than before.
“I'm serious! Just let me-”
“You really expect me to let you in my house after today?”
“You started it!”
“And I'll finish it!”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah!”
My fists were clenched at my sides from anger.
“Why can't we just work together?” I asked, still yelling.
“I was going to concede and try to get along with you!” she shouted back. “But nooo. You had to go and shove a fricking cake in my face!”
“You taped an air horn to my chair!”
Annabeth sighed angrily. I looked her over for the first time since she opened the door. Her hair was matted with dry frosting, and it hung in her face in strings. Her face was flushed red from anger, she had changed out of her work clothes. Her eyes were glassy.
“Look, Annabeth-”
“Call me Miss Chase, please.” she said stiffly, not meeting my eyes.
I bit my lip. “Miss Chase, I'm sorry. Okay?”
I moved my foot, and she slammed the door in my face.
My phone buzzed as soon as I got back into my house. It was a text from my best friend, Grover, asking to meet for dinner and drinks at the bar down the street. I texted him back, telling him I would meet him at seven. Then I shot Jake a text, asking him to stick around until seven to drive me there – I would walk home.

“How about that one?” I pointed towards a girl with brunette hair and bright blue eyes sitting in the corner with her friends, laughing. She had a short red dress on and high heels that made her legs look pretty great.
Grover shook his head. “Nah. She looks . . . too easy.” he took a swig of his beer.
I looked around the room. The bar was filled with people. Groups of friends were laughing loudly, men were flirting with women and throwing bad pick-up lines. Then there was Grover and I, sitting in the corner drinking. A blonde woman in a silver cocktail dress with a pound of makeup on her face caught my eye.
I realized with a start that Annabeth never wore any makeup. She was just naturally beautiful.
“Her?” I asked Grover, pointing towards the blonde woman. I was confused as to why I was thinking about Annabeth – considering how much I hate her – but I blew it off and concentrated on Grover.
Grover shook his head again, although his eyes were glued to the other side of the room. I turned and moved my eyes to where he was staring. A petite girl with auburn hair and big brown eyes was standing alone by the door. She was quite pretty, but not my type.
“Go for it, dude.”
Grover didn't need me to tell him twice. He got up and made his way over to the girl. I watched as he held his hand out to her. She blushed, smiling at him. They sat down at a table and started talking. I smiled to myself, then got up to sit by the bartender.
“A shot of vodka,” I said. “And keep 'em coming.” I decided I needed to get my anger at Annabeth off my mind.
I downed three shots within the first few minutes. I needed to get drunk. I wanted to get drunk. Just to get my mind off of everything for a while. Working was so difficult. I just needed one night. I kept asking for shots. The bartender kept giving me shots. Everything was fine.
I slipped off my chair, landing on the hard ground. I looked around the room for Grover, but he wasn't anywhere. I hiccupped.
“Go Grover!” I pumped my fist and fell on my back on the floor.
“Oh my.” I heard a familiar voice say. Who was that? I tried to open my eyes but it was all blurred. Was I crying?
“How much did he drink?” The familiar woman's voice asked. I heard a mumbled reply from the bartender, then the woman scoffed and walked away, her heels clicking on the floor.

I don't know why I decided to go to the bar. I guess I just needed to get my mind off of my pretentious boss and his stupid antics. But when I got there, I found none other than that pretentious boss, lying on the floor, drunk.
I really wanted to leave him there. Maybe some horny girl would find him and take him home. Maybe there would be a stampede of wildebeests and they would trample him to death. I was really looking forward to seeing his hungover ass struggle into work the next morning.
But then he moaned against the floor as I walked away from him, and I instantly felt bad. I turned around. He was lying on his stomach, drool falling out of his mouth. His hair was askew, his clothes wrinkled. He looked so innocent and tired.
I sighed, then walked back over to him.
“Need some help miss?” the bartender asked, looking over the counter at me.
I shook my head. “He doesn’t weigh much.”
It was only when I draped his arm over my shoulder and started dragging towards the door that I realized I had lied. Percy by any definition wasn't fat, but he was definitely muscular.
The good news was that it was only a few blocks back to Garden Towers. The bad news was that Percy was a happy drunk. Once I got him up and half-walking, he waved and said hello to everyone we passed on the street. He tripped over his own feet a few times, and once even landed on the pavement flat on his face. I contemplated leaving him there again, but he hiccupped and chuckled a little bit and I felt bad again. He was like a little helpless child. I couldn't very well leave a child in the middle of the sidewalk.
“C'mon, Percy.” I hiked him up and dragged him along the road.
“Miss Chase?” He mumbled into my shoulder. “Don't you hate me?”
“Yes.” I answered honestly. “But if you die from getting run over I'll be out of a job. And I kind of need the money.”
Percy hiccupped in response.
I shouldered him the entire way to Garden Towers. Tony, the doorman, raised his eyebrows when he saw us walk in, but didn't say anything. He pressed the elevator button for me and I stumbled in, Percy moaning something about peas.
It wasn't until we were in front of his door that I realized there was a problem. I had no idea where his key was. I realized with a rolling stomach that I was going to have to check his pockets myself, considering he was intoxicated and close to passing out.
I shoved my hand in his back pocket quickly and pulled his wallet out. I sifted through it – pulling out a few hundred dollar bills and stuffing them in my pocket. Payment for helping him home. - And saw that his house key was nowhere to be found. I swore. There was no way I was letting him into my apartment, so I grabbed his phone out of his pocket and dialed maintenance. I explained the situation briefly to Fred, but left the hallway before he could come up. Closing my door softly behind me.

I woke up on the floor, my head pounding. I moaned and peeled my eyes open. I was in my apartment – thank God – and I had my clothes on – thank God again – but I didn't remember anything about the previous night – which was nothing to thank God about.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket and checked the time. Shit. I was going to be late for work. I scrambled up off the floor, sliding on the tile and falling on my face. I grunted and pushed myself up, carefully this time. I jogged to my room and changed my clothes, faster than I ever had before. I shoved my feet in my shoes as I was walking out the door; my tie hung off my shoulder lazily. I ran a hand through my hair in the hallway as I tried to find my house key. Where was the damn thing?
“Looking for something?” Annabeth called from behind me.
I clenched my fists, refusing to turn around. I was hungover, tired, and in desperate need of a coffee. I was not going to deal with her today.
“I would check under your welcome mat.” she said. I could hear the smirk in her voice.
I sighed, locking my jaw. I didn't want to bend down and look, but I figured she was right. So I crouched and pulled the mat up. Sure enough, my silver house key was right there. I bit back a growl as I heard Annabeth strut towards the elevator in her heels.
I had Jake stop at Starbucks on the way to work. I was really afraid I was going to throw up if I got out of the car, but I hated to ask him to get it for me. He did it anyways, seeing how bloodshot my eyes were.
Kate got me an Ibuprofen for my pounding head, and I downed it with my coffee. Annabeth was sitting in my office, her long legs crossed. She had a smug look on her face, as if she was looking forward to watching me struggle through the day.
“Feeling okay, Percy?” She mocked me.
“Mr. Jackson, please, Miss Chase.” I spat, rubbing my temples. She pursed her lips in reply.
All day I was on my guard. I was deathly afraid Annabeth was going to pull another ruthless prank on me. I clutched the armrests of my chair as she spoke, my still-bloodshot eyes observed the room closely. I gulped and flinched every time Annabeth moved her hand. So maybe I was overreacting. But I didn't know if she would cut any slack for the hungover guy. Lucky for me, she did.
Kate brought us lunch. Which I was thankful for because I didn't want to go out feeling like I did. I desperately wanted a shower and a nap. By four, all I wanted to do was go home. My head was still pounding, even after I took Aspirin, and I was getting jittery from sitting there for so long. But Annabeth just kept talking . . . and talking . . . and talking . . . and UGH
“Can you just shut up?” I snapped, pounding my fist on the desk
She jumped in her seat, her eyes wide and scared. She had been in the middle of talking about the sixth floor I think? I don't know, I wasn't listening.
“Is there something wrong with the designs?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at me.
“I can't take the noise!” I slammed my forehead on the table, trying to make the hammering go away. Annabeth yelped as her blueprints fluttered all over the floor.
Kate came rushing in the room. “Mr. Jackson! Are you alright?” she exclaimed, rushing to my side as I groaned.
Jamming my head on the table was not the best idea I'd ever had. I didn't know at the time that it wouldn't be the last time I made that mistake either. My head just hurt even worse. It felt like there was a jackhammer in my skull. A migraine. I had a fricking migraine.
“Olgh.” I moaned, my eyes stinging, my head throbbing.
“He's hungover.” Annabeth informed my secretary dryly.
“Oh my,” she said. “I'll call Jake around. Do you need me to help you home, Mr. Jackson?”
“I can,” Annabeth offered sourly. “He lives in the same apartment building as me.”
“Oh, thank you, dear.” Kate said sweetly, then left to call Jake.
I must have passed out from the pain of my head, because next thing I knew I was slumped on the ground outside of my apartment. Annabeth was slapping my face to wake me up, a little too hard.
“C'mon. Wake up, Seaweed Brain. I need your key.” she was saying.
I could barely move I was so exhausted, but I managed to reach into my pocket to grab my wallet. It fell out of my hands and onto the floor with a thump. Annabeth mumbled something – which I couldn't hear but guessed was a rude comment about my intelligence – and scoped up the wallet, sifting through it.
She unlocked the door and dragged me into my house by the back of my suit jacket. I tried to say, “If you mess up my jacket you're paying for a new one.” but it came out more like. “Ifyjo mlussu mm jaquet r poeiyng.”
“Whatever you say, Percy.” Annabeth scoffed as she pulled me up onto my bed and threw a pillow on top of my stomach.
“See you tomorrow, Percy.” she said as she left, but I was too tired to correct her.
Tomorrow, I promised myself as I fell asleep. I would get her back for laughing at me in this state. I would get her back.

The rising sun filtered through my bedroom curtains, waking me up slowly. Looking at the clock, I rolled out of bed and muddled to the shower, groaning all the way. I brushed my teeth mechanically, still trying to rub the sleep out of my eyes. The effects of the alcohol had since worn off, but my mind was still clouded. I chugged a cup of coffee, dressed quickly, and began thinking of revenge plans while I knotted my tie around my neck.
I left for work early, considering I wanted to get there before Annabeth did. When I got to the office, I had Kate get me a ball of sting, which she somehow found no problem. I couldn't wait for Annabeth to get to work.
I heard her before the door opened, her heels clicking on the floor. Oh no, I forgot she always wears heels. That trip wire could actually hurt her if she twisted her ankle while in heels. I bolted to the door right as it opened and grabbed her shoulders.
“Don't move.” I said.
I bent down and ripped the string off of the door frame, then looked up at her surprised face.
“What are you doing?” she asked, looking at the piece of thin string in my hands.
I didn't really know how to explain myself. I couldn't have her actually injured because we needed to start construction on the new building within the next few weeks, so to avoid a broken ankle or concussion, I had done the noble thing.
“Uh . . . trip wire.” I mumbled, holding up the string.
“Was that supposed to be meant for me?” Annabeth raised an eyebrow. I couldn't help but notice how pretty she looked today. I silently cursed myself.
“Uh, yeah?”
“Well I'm glad you came to your senses, Mr. Jackson.” she moved past me and sat in her chair. I awkwardly closed the door.
“Percy.”
She turned around, cocking her head. Then a sliver of a smile made an appearance. “Percy.”
She nodded.
The rest of the day and the weekend passed slowly. On Saturday afternoon I got an even better revenge plan than a trip-wire though, and I made a visit to a prank store just to make it happen. I chuckled evilly as Jake drove me back to Garden Towers. I knocked on Annabeth's door instead of going into mine, and she answered after a few seconds.
She was dressed in jeans and a tank-top, her hair hung around her shoulders in curls. She pursed her lips and crossed her arms when she saw it was me.
“What do you want, Percy?” she stressed my name. I regretted telling her she could use it instead of calling me Mr. Jackson. I liked the latter a lot better coming from her smart mouth.
“Well I know the cake thing was over the line, but I really want to just put our differences behind us and. . . Well. Truce?” I held out a rose I had bought from the prank shop. Of course Annabeth didn't know that.
She looked me over, narrowing her eyes at the rose like it would bite her, which it wouldn't. It would do something even funnier. She shrugged.
“Thank you, Percy.” she said, taking the rose from my hands. I put my fingers in the pocket of my jeans and she raised the rose to her nose to smell the flower. But it wasn't going to smell like anything. I clicked the button.
A stream of water spewed out of the middle of the rose, right into Annabeth's face. She didn't scream, just stood with her mouth open and eyes closed as I pressed down hard on the button. I laughed hysterically as she was drenched with water. Her hair was wet and stringy by the time the water ran out, I was leaning against the wall in tears.
“PERCY!” She yelled, throwing the fake rose on the ground and raising her hand at me. I scrambled towards my door, going to open it, but it was locked! And my key . . . my key was inside. I swore harshly. I tried to hide my face in the door but Annabeth punched my arm hard. God, this woman is strong.
She hit my arm, shouting about how awful I was and that she hated me. I thought this was a bit of an overreaction considering she was a little wet. . Okay, a lot wet. She probably would've started a string of profanities if Mr. and Mrs. Gold and their children didn't walk out of their apartment right then.
“What's going on?” Mr. Gold asked worriedly.
Annabeth sprang away from me and I relaxed against the door. I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding.
“You must be our new neighbor!” Mrs. Gold exclaimed, rushing over and shaking Annabeth's damp hand excitedly. Annabeth's hair dripped onto the wood floor.
The two Gold kids – Austin and Andrea – stared at me. I'm sure I looked weird since I was cowered against the door frame. My maroon shirt had Annabeth's wet hand-prints stamped all over the sleeve.
Annabeth introduced herself to the Gold's, and they left onto the elevator with a smile. Annabeth turned towards me, her hands on her hips, her eyes narrowed.
“That was low, Jackson.”
I snickered.
“There's no way I will ever agree to a truce with you.” she spat.
“There's no way I'll ever be able to get along with you.” I retorted.
“I hate you.”
“I hate you more.”
“Nuh uh.”
“Yeah huh.”
“Oh will you two just kiss already?” A voice from down the hall said.
We both sprung our heads towards the sound. An old man with a cane stood by the closed elevator doors. He was dressed in an expensive Italian suit, his hair was wispy and white. He had a sweet smile and bright blue eyes.
Annabeth made a gagging noise. “Never in his wildest dreams.” I feigned being hurt. The old man chuckled.
“My wife said the same thing when we first met.” He said, winking at me. I scrunched my nose and shook my head.
“She's hot, but she's not very nice to me.” I waved my hand in front of Annabeth for the man. Annabeth gaped at me, the man laughed.
“Why don't you try being nice to her?” he suggested.
“That's not very much fun.”
“You're a jerk.” Annabeth muttered, sneering at me and smiling at the old man before strutting into her apartment.
I looked to the old man helplessly and shrugged. “Women.” I sighed.
“Don't worry about it.” he laughed. “I never gets any easier.”
“Where's your wife?” I asked.
“Oh,” he sighed, leaning against the wall, his cane still in his hands. “She died a long time ago. Cancer.”
“I'm sorry.” I said reflexively.
“Cherish the moments you have with the people you love.” he advised.
“Well yeah. But I certainly don't love her.”
I couldn't place who the man was. Did he live on this floor? In this building? Who was he?
“I don't even like her.”
The man chuckled again, his smiled reaching his eyes. “Check back with me in a few months.”
I sighed and went to open my door, but remembered that I locked my key inside. The man watched me as I pulled my phone out and called Fred again.
“Need another key, Jackson?” He asked, amusement slipping into his voice.
“Yes please.” I said.

The next few weeks passed so fast, thinking back on them is just a blur. Annabeth and I fought likes cats and dogs, and when we weren't fighting was when we weren't together. We argued over finalizing the construction plans, and getting a building permit. My Dad made more demands, Annabeth added them to the last-minute blueprints, and I stood in the background shaking my head at her.
She got me back for my exploding rose prank, but not until a week later. So of course all through the work week I was paranoid, watching my back for anything and everything she could do to me. The Saturday after we had met the man in the hallway, my apartment suddenly filled with the smell of rotten eggs. I gagged and retched, searching for the source of the smell.
I found the culprit by the front door. Smokey gas was billowing out of a small disk on the floor. The smell reminded me of the time my Mom and I had gone to Yellowstone with my step-dad, Paul. But in the moment, I could only think one thing. Annabeth.
I heard her laughter out in the hallway as I screamed and tossed the stink bomb out of my doorway. She screamed as the cloud of sulfur filled the hallway, clinging to her. I slammed my door before any more of the stench could get in, then opened all my windows.
We kept pranking each other the rest of the week. After the stink bomb, I loosened the screws in her chair so when she sat down she crashed to the floor. What made it even better was that she had a cup of coffee in her hand. After my chair prank, she got revenge by putting tape over the bottom of my computer mouse. I went to do some work one morning and I sat there for two hours trying to figure out why my mouse wasn't working. After that, I bought a huge container of fake spiders and put them all over the office after she left one night – hoping to the good Lord she didn't like spiders. Lucky for me, she was deathly afraid of them. When she walked into work the next morning, she screamed so loud I thought there was an ax murder in the lobby or something. But no, it was just a bunch of plastic spiders. Then she put a bucket of water full of blue food coloring above my office door. When I opened it I was drenched and dyed blue.
That Friday, my Dad wanted us to meet him and the builder he'd hired for lunch at Monte's. So Annabeth and I grumbled to my car together and had Jake drive us. I was thinking of all that I could do to her in a restaurant when we pulled up. Annabeth turned and smirked at me before swinging her long, thin legs out of the car. I sighed and followed her inside.
My Dad was sitting at a table in the middle of the room with a balding man in a suit. I hadn't seen my Dad in person for months, so it was odd. Seeing him reminded me that I was now only a week out from seeing my Mom and step-dad at the lake house, I smiled to myself.
Annabeth sat across from me, next to the builder. I sat by my Dad. The silence at first was deafening, but my Dad spoke up.
“So, why don't we get to work?”
After he made all the introductions – the builders name was Bob Rodriguez - which I had to bite back a laugh at. . . Bob the builder? – We got to work. It wasn't my ideal situation, working through lunch while talking about a bunch of crap I didn't care about, but I endured. Annabeth was animatedly talking about the designs she had shown me the past few weeks and it was boring me to death; I kicked her in the shin under the table. She winced and shot me a glare. I smirked.
I had a good idea on how to get her back for dying my work clothes blue. I remembered she mentioned she hated cinnamon one day when Kate offered her a cinnamon chip cookie. I excused myself to go to the restroom, but made a beeline for the kitchen. I remembered what she'd ordered on purpose, so I asked around the kitchen for whoever was working on it; it was almost done.
“Hey,” I whispered. “Can you do me a favor?”
The little man that was putting the finishing touches on Annabeth's order looked up. “What?”
“Can you sprinkle some cinnamon on that for me?”
“Is it yours, sir?”
I nodded.
“Sure.”
I watched as I sprinkled a bit on cinnamon all over her food. I said thank you and retreated back to the table before our food came. The three of them at the table hardly looked up as I sat back down. Our food came a minute later, and I watched Annabeth as she took a bite of her pasta. She looked confused for a second, then her face started to turn red.
“What's wrong?” Bob asked, setting his meaty hand on Annabeth's arm.
“Can't-breathe. . .” she choked. SHE CHOKED?!?! DAMMIT SHE'S ALLERGIC TO CINNAMON.
I swore under my breath and yelled at my Dad to call an ambulance. H dialed on his phone and I bent down to search Annabeth's purse for an epipen or something.
It seemed like a million years between the time she started choking and when the ambulance got there. I had found an epipen and stabbed it into her thigh a few minutes earlier. She was hardly breathing. The EMT put her on a stretcher and hooked her up to an IV in the back of the ambulance. The three of us stood outside and watched them drive away, saying we would meet them at the hospital.
“Why was there even cinnamon in that?” My Dad asked.
I bit my lip. If she got seriously hurt because of me . . . what was I going to do? I even cut that trip wire so she wouldn't get hurt, yet I put cinnamon in her food. I just risked her life! Except I didn't know she was allergic to cinnamon, she just said she didn't like it. I moaned inwardly and ran a hand through my hair.
I caught up to Jake, who was parked on the side of the road reading a newspaper. Obviously he was planning on me taking longer at lunch. I jumped in the back seat and ripped the paper out of his hands.
“Hospital,” I told him. “And step on it.”
“But, sir-”
“I don't care if we get a ticket, just go.”
I must've sounded urgent, because he shut up and drove as fast as possible in the heavy New York traffic.

It took some arguing and bribing the nurse to let me into Annabeth's room. She was going to be fine, she just had to stay in the hospital overnight to make sure there wasn't any delayed reactions from the cinnamon. I felt awful walking through the door to her room, seeing her lay in bed with an IV stuck in her arm. I was an awful person.
Even now, in a hospital gown, after a fatal allergic reaction to cinnamon, Annabeth still looked beautiful. Which amazed me. I moistened my lips before walking further into the room. She looked up at me, her eyes glassy.
“What are you doing here?” she asked. It wasn't rude the way she said it. It was an actual question she wanted answered.
“I'm your boss. You have no family in New York. I'm your emergency contact.” I explained, not adding that I was guilty.
Annabeth hummed her response. She closed her eyes.
“I'm sorry.” I said, standing over her bed.
“For what? It's not your fault they put cinnamon on It.” she muttered, not opening her eyes.
My stomach felt like a rock was rolling around inside me, grinding up my insides. I sighed, deciding that the truth was the best option here.
“Yes it was.”
“What?”
“I heard you tell Kate you didn't like cinnamon and I wanted to get back at you for the blue food coloring. . . I-I didn't know-”
“Percy,” Annabeth said, a look of disbelief on her face. “You told the cook to put cinnamon on my food?”
I nodded shoving my hands in my pockets. That little square of tile on the floor was really interesting, so I decided to just look at that.
“I didn't know, I'm sorry. Will you please-?”
“Please leave, Percy.” She didn't look at me. He crossed her arms and stared at the T.V that was running a football game in silence.
I didn't know if I could say anything that would make up for what I'd done. I doubted it. So I turned and walked out of her room, my hands still in my pockets. I had Jake drive me home, where I decided to call my Mom to get my mind off of how awful a person I was.
The first thing she asked was, “How's Annabeth?” I told her that she hadn't accepted my apology and that we were even worse than when we started. I didn't tell her about the cinnamon because my throat closed up, thinking about her in the hospital.
Mom suggested I invite Annabeth to the Lake House the next weekend. After arguing with her for a while, I finally conceded and told her I would ask. But I had a feeling she would rather eat a bucket of cinnamon than spend the weekend with me and my family.
I couldn't bring myself to eat, so I just showered and went to bed. Or I would've gone to bed if I could've stopped thinking about how instead of next door to me, Annabeth was sleeping in a hospital bed.

On Sunday, I saw Annabeth leaving her apartment as I was grabbing my mail from Tony. I tried talking to her, but she pretended I didn't exist and just walked right past me and out the front doors. On Monday, she didn't show up to work. But not because she was avoiding me, she was supposed to be working with Bob all day at the construction site. Tuesday on the other hand. . Tuesday was a bad day.
Annabeth showed up to the office late on Tuesday. She didn't meet my eyes; she sat in the lobby with Kate the entire day. Finally, I couldn't take the silence anymore. I missed our bickering and pranks . . . and it'd only been two weeks. I followed her into the elevator as the sun set through the window on the far wall of the office.
She clenched her teeth and stared at her feet as the elevator moved down to ground floor – where Jake was waiting for me. I rubbed the back of my neck awkwardly, not sure how to start.
“Annabeth, look-”
“I don't want to hear it, Percy.”
“But-”
“You could've killed me! I could've died because of you!” She turned towards me, her eyes glassy.
“Don't you think I know that? I didn't know, okay? I'm so sorry! I just-” I sighed. I never wanted to hurt her.
“Maybe if you weren't such a dickhead all the time-”
“Maybe if you weren't such a bitch!”
The elevator chose that moment to open up to the lobby of my office building. Annabeth's lip trembled. It was too late that I realized I'd gone too far. She ran out of the elevator, the clicking of her heels sounded like bullet-shoots in my ears. I gaped after her, not sure what I should do.
Typical me. I'd tried to fix a problem, and had only made it worse. Yep . . . typical me.
I got home to find Grover lounging on my couch. There was another football game on T.V, and he was watching it intently; junk food strewn all around my living room.
“How'd you get in here?” I mumbled bitterly as I slammed the door behind me.
“Fred gave me one of those extra keys.” He said as he chewed on a potato chips. “You really need to stop losing them by the way.”
I laughed half-heartedly and sank into the couch next to him, grabbing the bag of chips out of his hands. We watched the football game while he told me all about the women he met at the bar - Juniper, he said her name was. He told me that they had gone to a 24 hour coffee shop around the corner from the bar and talked until the sun rose. They had been on a few dates since then; Grover really liked her.
I gave him some girl advice – not that I was very good with women apparently – and we watched the rest of the football game in silence before Grover said he had to meet Juniper and left me alone to my thoughts.

Kate must've figured Annabeth and I had been fighting, because the next morning my Dad was sitting at my desk. Annabeth was in her usual seat, her eyes averted to her hands that sat in her lap.
“Percy,” Dad said. “Sit.” He indicated to the chair next to Annabeth.
I moved to the chair slowly and lowered myself next to her. She tensed up and wrung her hands. It was awkward to say the least. I felt really bad about the past week, and I didn't want to.
“Now,” Dad started. “I've heard you two haven't been getting along lately. And by that I don't mean pulling a few harmless pranks on each other – fighting nonstop and calling each other very offensive names. This is certainly not professional.”
He was right of course, none of this was professional. The entire ordeal from where my Dad hired someone without talking to me about it, until now hasn't been at all professional! We were the biggest company in America and we can't even get along.
“Annabeth, I've said I'm sorry a million times. What more can I do to show you I didn't mean to hurt you that badly?” I said, throwing up my hands as I turned towards the girl next to me. She shook her head.
“He's right, Percy. I haven't been very professional about all of this. Mr. Jackson,” She turned towards my Father. “Please forgive me. I promise to do better to get along with your son.”
“You are forgiven, Miss Chase. And Percy? Will you do the same?” My Dad asked me, raising an eyebrow at me.
“Yes, sir.” I said.
I got up and left without another word. Annabeth watched me as I stood and switched seats so I was in my usual place.
“Maybe if we pretend to be nice to each other, it'll eventually not be so hard?” Annabeth suggested. I nodded and sighed. “Yeah, that's probably the best idea we have. I'm sorry again-”
“Its fine, Percy. You didn't know. Now, I'm going to get back to work. Okay?” Annabeth assured me.
I didn't feel assured. I had almost killed her because of that cinnamon stunt. I'd thought that apologizing would make me feel better but . . . it hadn't. If anything, I felt worse.
Worse because my Father had been forced to intervene in our stupid bickering. I didn't want to fight with her. But she was so irritating. She was so smart-mouthed and rude.
“Okay.”
Annabeth left the room, her bag of blueprints slung over her shoulder.

Days went by. Annabeth and I were the epitome of nice to each other. We said hello to each other in the hallways – always making sure to smile – we held the elevator doors for one other, I even drove her back and forth to the office. We went so far, Annabeth actually called maintenance for me when I lost my key that week. She did make a sarcastic comment about it as she watched me dig through the flower pot again. And I tried to ignore her, but it was too tempting.
“You're so dumb, Seaweed Brain.”
“Oh and you're so smart, Wise Girl?”
“At least I don't lose my house key four times and week and force the poor guy at maintenance to make me new ones! I don't even think that's legal.” Annabeth retorted.
“Who the hell cares if it's legal? No one will find out!”
At that, Annabeth got a little sparkle in her eye. I got really scared, but I pushed the door open with my new key and dragged myself into the kitchen to make dinner. My Mom called me again as I was cooking a frozen pizza.
“Hey honey, how's Annabeth?” was the first thing out of my Mother's mouth when I answered the phone.
“Uh. . .” I scrambled to come up with an answer, then decided on the one that didn't make me seem like a total dick. “She's good.”
Okay so maybe I shouldn't have lied to my Mother – isn't there a saying about that? - But I couldn't very well tell her that I had landed her in the hospital!
“Listen, Percy. I was wondering if you've asked her about joining us this weekend at the Lake House?” she said, her tone making it clear that I was not allowed to argue.
“Uh . . . not yet, but I will?” I choked, almost burning my hand on the oven.
“Good. Call me tomorrow with her answer.” She said, then hung up.
I decided that might've been the shortest conversation I'd ever had with my Mom, then sat down to enjoy my gourmet meal of frozen pizza.

I was dreading talking to Annabeth when I woke up the next morning. I dressed quickly and tugged my hands through my sleep-mussed hair. Annabeth was waiting at the elevator for me, and I figured I should've just asked her right then and there, but I chickened out and let us get on the elevator without saying anything other than good-morning.
I opened the car door for Annabeth, and then slid in right after her. Jake drove us to the office in silence, the early morning traffic being the only noise as we sped through the city. Interestingly enough, it wasn't an uncomfortable silence. It was the kind of quiet that was reassuring. It didn't make me think she was angry with me, but rather comfortable enough to not have to speak.
I knew I should bring up the Lake House soon, as it was Thursday already and my mom liked to meet there on Friday nights to get the most out of the weekend. But for some reason I couldn't push the words out of my mouth. I didn't know whether it was because I was afraid she would say no, or if I was afraid she would say yes. And I didn't know which one I was hoping for.
Finally, as we stood from the desk to break for lunch, I somehow found the courage to ask her.
“Hey, Annabeth?” I called before she could open the door out to the hallway. She turned and raised her eyebrows, waiting.
“My mom was wondering if you would be so gracious to join us at our Lake House this weekend.” I cursed myself as soon as the words left my lips. I shouldn't have said it like that. I should have phrased it like a question instead of like a statement. I made it sound like a question anyways. What even was my grammar? I needed to go back to middle school. I would call Yancy Academy as soon as I got home.
“Who all will be there?” Annabeth asked curiously, her fingers no longer on the doorknob.
“Just me, my mom and step-father.” I answered her.
“When do you leave?”
“Tomorrow, right after work.”
“And you're just asking me now? What if I have plans?” Annabeth leaned her weight on one foot and crossed her arms over her chest.
“Well-Uh. . . I mean- sorry?” I stammered, rubbing my shoulder awkwardly. “I- my mom just called me last night, I-”
“Relax, Seaweed Brain. I would love to, but only if you promise you won't be a jerk.” Annabeth laughed.
“My mom will make sure I'm not. Trust me.” I opened the door for her and ushered her out, relieved, but also tense for the coming weekend.

ANNABETH

Percy and I met each other in the lobby of our apartment building the next day after work. The sun was slowly sinking towards the horizon, but since it was mid-summer, I knew it wouldn't be dark until we got to the cabin.
From what I could remember, Percy hadn't mentioned his mother at all in the short month I'd known him. But from the way his eyes glittered when he talked about her the previous day, I could tell she meant a lot to him.
Percy explained that the Lake House was three hours outside the city limits, which seemed like pretty far away to me – which I had not been expecting.
I also hadn't been expecting Percy to lead me to a bright blue Ferrari parked in the garage of the complex. I had to regulate my breathing and calm myself down before I could actually bend down to sit next to Percy in the sports-car.
“This is quite the car.” I said, rubbing my hands on my knees uncomfortably.
Percy's face lit up. “I know, right? I only get to take it out when I go to the cabin. So don't ruin this for me, okay?”
I scoffed.
As soon as we got out of the city, Percy twisted the volume knob for the radio all the way to the right and pressed the accelerator hard. I watched as the speedometer raced from 40 to 60 to 80 all the way to 90 MPH.
“What the hell, Percy?! You're going to kill us!” I screamed, watching out the window as farms sped by us at an unbelievably fast pace. I'd never gone over 70 in a car, and I was starting to feel sick. My vision doubled.
“Percy, I don't feel good.” I admitted.
“Do you get motion sickness, Annabeth?” Percy chuckled, still going ninety miles an hour.
I really did not want to throw up in Percy's car. I did not want to throw up in a Ferrari. I didn't want to throw up in my bosses Ferrari. Especially if we still had two more hours in the car. But I felt so awful. My stomach lurched.
“Annabeth, are you joking?” Percy was still laughing. The fields were still passing us by in a blur. I tried to focus on something that wasn't moving, but the speed moved everything. The wheel hit a small pothole and that was it.
I threw up all over the dash.

Percy wasn't laughing anymore. Instead, he was swearing his head off. Curse words I'd never even heard before came rolling from his tongue and he slowed down and pulled off on the side of the road.
“Shit, Annabeth! What was that for?” Percy threw his hands up and leaned his head on the steering wheel.
“Are you really blaming me for this? I told you I didn't feel good you dumb-ass!” I grabbed a tissue from my bag and wiped my mouth, trying not to inhale through my nose.
“I hope you have a lot of those, Wise Girl. Cause we're not going anywhere until you clean this up.” Percy snapped, then threw himself out of the car.
I had to admit, part of me felt bad for puking all over his car. But the part that wasn't shaking with guilt felt rather liberated. I had thrown up all over Percy's car. I threw up all over his Ferrari. I had to bite back a laugh.
After cleaning the dash off with wet towels and glugging a water bottle, I felt a lot better. Percy refused to touch any of the knobs on the radio the entire rest of the way to the cabin, so we were forced to talk to each other.
“What's your mom like?” I asked. I was still trying not to laugh.
Percy gripped the steering wheel. He didn't go over 70 now, which I was happy about. “She's the sweetest person in the entire world.” He said. I let myself smile at that.
“Since I was little I've loved the color blue, and I used to ask my mom for blue food. Ever since then she's kind of made it her staple. So don't be alarmed when everything she cooks is blue.”
I laughed. He continued.
“My entire childhood, she was always so patient. She never yelled at me or got angry or anything. Even when her and my dad got a divorce, she was calm and collected. She used to bring me home candy from the candy shop she worked at when I was younger. Then she met my step-dad and I moved out and started working for my dad-”
“It doesn't bother you that you're parents aren't married?” I asked curiously. I knew it had always bothered me to an extent. Even though I never knew my birth mom, my step-mom was awful to me my entire life.
“Not really,” he admitted. “I mean, when they split up I was really small – so it's not like I remember much of all three of us living together anyways. But from what I do remember, it wasn't a very happy union. They got married after one summer together-”
“How long would people have to date for marriage to be acceptable to you then?” I interrupted again.
Percy shrugged. “Longer than a summer, I guess.”
“Yeah.”
“Anyways, as I was saying before you so rudely interrupted,”
“Sorry,” I whispered before he started talking again.
“As long as they're happy, I'm fine with whatever they decide to do. Plus, my step-dad – Paul – he's a really great guy. When I was growing up, he was more of a father to me than my own dad ever was.”
“How so?”
“My dad was always working. Even on the weekends I would spend with him, I would get shipped off with his assistant and forced to color in My Little Pony coloring books all day.”
“Hey, there's nothing wrong with My Little Pony.” I laughed.
“Never said there was.” he said. “I watched them all the time when I was a kid.”
Both of us laughed at that. I could imagine a five-year-old Percy, sitting in front of a small TV in a New York apartment. His hair messy and tangled – much like it is now – and blue ice cream all over his face and clothes. I smiled at the thought of him prancing around the house with little horse figurines, “Rainbow Dash, c'mon! We've got to make it to the castle before Pinky Pie!”
“What about you?” Percy asked. “What's your family like?”
I thought a bit before I answered. I hadn't seen my family for over a year - not like they wanted to see me anyways.
“I don't talk to them very often,” I admitted.
“Why not?” Percy asked, interested. He kept his eyes on the road; his hands steady on the wheel.
I wasn't sure if I should trust him with my depressing life story. After all, he was my boss. I worked for him for crying out loud! How in the world could we be friends? Wasn't there a saying about mixing friends with business?
Percy seemed to understand her delay. He let out a low chuckle. “Fine. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to.”
“No, it's-”
“Its fine, Annabeth. I'm not pushy.” he assured me, waving his hand through the air. He kept his eyes on the road.
I trained my eyes on the window. Outside, endless acres of trees spread out for miles. Eight different shades of green were evident in the light of the sun. Watching them didn't make me sick this time – since Percy was driving under the speed limit.
I imagined he was still humiliated over the fact he had caused me to be sick. I, on the other hand, wasn't embarrassed at all. If he was going to drive 90 miles per hour, I was going to throw up. It was as simple as that.
The silence wasn't uncomfortable, but it wasn't comfortable either. I found myself twiddling with my fingers absentmindedly.
“My parents were never married,” I found myself saying. Before I could stop myself, I was telling him everything. I didn't know why, but as soon as the words left my mouth, I didn't regret them . . . and for some reason I wished I did.
“After I was born my mom left us – my dad and I. He never wanted a kid, so he tried to pretend I didn't exist. When I was older, he got married and had kids of his own – twin boys. I lived with them against my own free will until the day after I turned eighteen.”
“Oh.” Percy murmured “When's the last time you saw them?”
“College graduation.” I told him. “But they only came for half a day – didn't even bother to stay for dinner.”
“Why not?”
“My step-mom. She's always hated me. She loathed the fact that my dad had been with my mom before her. She offered to send me to boarding school – said she didn't want me ruining her sons.”
“You didn't go?”
I shook my head. “Nothing in my life has ever really gone right. And I figured going to boarding school would end up being worse than living with them.”
Percy didn't say anything back. I wondered if he thought of me differently now. I wasn't looking for sympathy. I had only told him because – well I don't know why I told him, actually. But now I had.
“I don't want to be a charity case, okay?” I snapped.
Percy had the nerve to laugh. “Well if that's the case, don't tell my mom. She'd shower you in affection until you've drowned. Me, on the other hand. I'm not going to treat you any differently, Annabeth. Unless you don't want to continue this little prank war we've got going on?”
“I thought your dad said no more pranking?”
“He said no more life-threatening pranks. So, is there anything other than cinnamon I have to be aware of?” Percy asked, glancing over at me for the first time.
I thought briefly as he turned away. He really did have very pretty eyes. A dark sea-green color that glowed in the light of the early-evening sun. I shook my head.
“Good. Than the war is back on.”
“How much longer until we get there?” I asked curiously.
Percy checked the clock on the dash. “Probably a half hour.”
I squinted out the window. Had it really been that long already? It felt like only a few minutes. Amazing how time flies when the two of us aren't fighting.
The rest of the way there, we listened to music at close to full volume. I was surprised when Percy switched off the radio and plugged his phone in, muttering something about how pop music was overrated. He sang along to the lyrics of indie singers while I tapped my foot to the beat and laughed at him as he banged his head up and down.
“C'mon, Annabeth,” he whined. “Sing along!”
“I can't sing,” I argued. “And even if I could, I don't know the song.”
Percy turned the music down a little. “Well what song do you know? And if you say something about Mozart I'm leaving you on the side of the road.”
“Hey! What's wrong with Mozart?” I protested.
“The fact that you just asked that question is proof that you don't listen to actual music.”
“I'm offended! Classical music is actual music.”
“There aren't any lyrics!”
“You can hum to the melody.”
“Oh, how fun. Gather 'round kids, let's hum some Mozart!” he said sarcastically, bumping his elbow with mine.
“Don't be so judgmental.”
Percy laughed. “But seriously. Other than Mozart, what do you listen to?”
I hesitated. “I'm afraid you'll yell at me if I tell you.”
He chuckled. “Probably.” That didn't exactly make me want to tell him. He seemed to notice my weariness. “Oh, c'mon, Annabeth. I'm not going to make fun of you.”
I groaned. “Fine. The 1975 is my favorite.”
Percy smiled brightly. “Why didn't you say so earlier? I own every song!” He scrolled though his phone and clicked – 'Settle Down' sounded through the speakers.
We listened through half of the album before Percy took a right off the main road. He turned onto a hard dirt road and we bumped along as he wound through the trees. I reached out and turned the music down so he could focus on his driving – I didn't want him smashing us straight into a tree or something – he shot me a distasteful look, but didn't move to turn it back up.
After twenty minutes of driving through the woods, I asked if he was lost. Considering it was starting to get darker, and his car had to be low on gas at this point, I didn't want us to be wandering around in the middle of the night.
“No, I am not lost.” He snipped. I took that as 'Yes, I'm lost. But I'm too macho to admit it.'
His phone rang.
“Mom? Yeah. Yeah, we're almost there. No mom, I'm not lost again. I know where I'm going, mom. No, no- ugh!” I heard a mumble on the other end of the line. He held the phone out to me grumpily.
I looked at his cell phone before I grabbed it. I held it up to my ear. “Hello?”
“Hello, dear. This is Annabeth?” a sweet-sounding woman's voice came through the phone.
“Uh . . . yes?”
“Hi, Annabeth. I'm Sally; Percy's mom.” she said. He smile was evident in her voice. “Now, my son will do almost anything to prevent himself from looking stupid. So, tell me. Are you two lost?”
“Well I'm not sure, but considering the way he told me he isn't lost, I think we are.”
“We are not lost!” Percy argued from the driver’s seat.
“You're lost.” Sally said.
She gave me an address to punch into the GPS, so I hung up and started the map. Turns out, Percy had only missed one left turn. We probably would've eventually made it there if we would've kept driving in circles, but the GPS didn't take as long.
I have to admit, I was a little nervous to meet Percy's mom. I mean, I shouldn't have been because there was no reason to be. Except it was a little strange considering he's my boss.
As soon as I stepped out of the car, a woman with dark brown hair tied up in a ponytail came rushing outside to greet us. I didn't get a chance to survey the house in detail, I only noticed that it was a log cabin with forest-green shutters. Sally hugged her son tight – he had to bend down a little to hug his mother, which I thought was amusingly cute. She kissed him on the cheek, then slapped his arm for not being able to admit he was lost. Then she saw me.
She didn't hug me, but she held out her hand and introduced herself for the second time. She told me how nice it was to meet me while simultaneously apologizing for her son’s rudeness. I laughed as she put her arm around me to guide me into the house. Percy was about to follow, but she instructed him to get the bags out of the car and bring them inside.
The house opened up to a small entryway, which branched off to a living room on one side and a nice kitchen on the other. There were stairs leading up to the next floor directly in front of the door. The light coming from the kitchen was muted and soft, leaving a lingering feeling of warmth throughout the rest of the home. A man with salt-and-pepper hair stood over the stove, stirring a large pot with a wooden spoon. He looked up when the three of them entered the room.
“You must be Annabeth,” he said. “It's so nice to have you.” he smiled warmly and continued stirring the contents of the pot.
“This is my husband, Paul.” Sally introduced them. “We hope you like Italian – he's making spaghetti for dinner.”
I smiled in reply.
Percy came stumbling in a minute later, looking flushed from carrying my bag upstairs. I bit back a smile as I thought about how I had stacked a few heavy textbooks in my suitcase, along with clothes.
“Did you just fill that bag with rocks, Annabeth?” Percy huffed. He sat down at the small table in the corner of the room. There was a window behind it – it showed a beautiful view of the sun setting over a large, glittering lake. It stretched on for miles... Percy ran a hand through his hair.
“Percy,” Sally scolded. “Don't be rude.”
I snickered, sitting down across from Percy.
Paul and Sally mad polite conversation during dinner. They made an effort to not make me feel uncomfortable, and it worked. It was a very pleasant meal. Sally had made a cake for desert – dyed blue for Percy.
We all told stories politely, laughing at the appropriate times. Percy and I bickered, Paul chuckled, and Sally scolded Percy for his rudeness. It was a short cycle.
I rammed my foot into Percy's shin when he said something about when I ordered everything but the kitchen sink that one time at the restaurant. He bit his lip hard to keep from crying out in pain. I only felt a little bad – I had kicked him pretty hard.
Sally and Paul went to bed first – around ten. I wasn't the least bit tired, and neither was Percy. So he politely suggested we watch a movie. I settled into the couch as he made coffee.
As much as I wanted it to be awkward, somehow it wasn't. It was a comedy, so we were loose and laughing almost immediately. Percy kept shushing my loud laughter, saying that his mom was going to wake up.
“Will she be mad?” I asked.
“She won't be mad, per-say.” he explained. “She might be annoyed if we wake her up. She can never get back to sleep if she wakes up in the middle of the night.”
From then on we stifled out laughs in the pillows
I found it sweet how Percy knew so much about his mother. Most boys would know a few important things, such as her birthday or her favorite color. But Percy was different. He'd spent pretty much his entire life living with his mom. He obviously cared about her very much. His father hadn't really been around during his childhood – his mom was all he had.
I laughed at the joke the movie had just made, looking over to where Percy was seated on the other side of the couch, expecting to laugh with him. But he was passed out on the cushions, his mouth slightly open. I pressed my lips together and covered them with my hand. He was drooling! Oh, this was gold! Percy Jackson, son of the multimillionaire, Poseidon Jackson, drooled in his sleep. I had to bite my tongue and bury my face in my lap to keep from laughing.
Turning the movie off, I allowed myself one more glance at the sleeping boy on the couch before retreating to my room. His head was lulled back on the pillow, his knuckle supporting it. His other hand was draped over his stomach. Black, messy hair hung just over his eyebrows. It was starting to curl on the ends from the humidity. His face was soft and tan and his jawline was strong and covered in stubble. His lashes brushed the skin under his eyes when they fluttered – he was dreaming. He was easier to look at when his sea-green eyes weren't staring straight back at me. I walked to my room silently.

PERCY

I threw the covers back from my waist and pulled a shirt on over my head. Padding out to the kitchen, I followed the smell of burning food.
She was standing at the stove, flipping a charred pancake over on the skillet. Her blonde hair hung in loose curls over her back – one strand fell into her eyes and she brushed it away as she flipped the pancake again, annoyed. She was dressed in long linen pants and a t-shirt that was much too big for her. I recognized it as mine.
She grumbled something about the black pancake as she flopped it rather violently onto a plate. I chuckled innocently. She didn't notice me.
I walked over to her and wound my arms around her waist. She relaxed in my arms, sighing contentedly as she poured more pancake batter onto the pan. My fingers hiked up the shirt and rested on the bare skin of her hip bones.
“Good morning,” I murmured into her hair. I sucked in a breath – she smelled like lemons. She hummed in response, obviously still agitated over her less than up-to-par cooking skills.
“Annabeth, you should've just let me make breakfast,” I said gently.
“You always make breakfast. I wanted to try it once.”
“Obviously not your best idea.”
“Hey!” she exclaimed, twisting from my grasp and pointing the spatula at me. “You're not much better of a cook than I am.”
“True. But I don't char food past recognition. What are those supposed to be exactly?” I pointed towards the skillet behind her.
She pouted a bit, then turned back to the stove the flip the pancake there. If course, it was black from the heat of the stove. “Why don't you try turning the heat down a little, love?” I suggested.
She looked over her shoulder to glare at me, but did as I said. The next pancake wasn't as black.
“Hey,” I said, wrapping my arms around her again and resting my chin on her shoulder. “I love you. Even if you are a bad cook.”
She fought a smile, training her eyes on the skillet. But eventually she looked over at me and smiled. “I love you too.”
I pressed my lips to hers firmly, closing my eyes.

My eyes shot open as I thudded painfully onto the hardwood floor of the living room. I realized as I rubbed my neck that I had fallen asleep on the plush couch during the movie Annabeth and I had been watching.
“Do you know you drool in your sleep?” a woman's voice asked. I focused my gaze on a pair of sandal-covered feet right in front of my face; I looked up.
Annabeth was standing over me, her arms crossed over her chest. She was smirking evilly, one eyebrow raised. Suddenly, my dream appeared in my mind. Holy. . .
“I do not.” I said quickly, my voice shaking a little.
Holy shit. I'd dreamt about Annabeth. Annabeth! No, no, no. This was not okay. I don't like her, it was just because of spending the entire day with her, that was all. Sure, she was hot. But I didn't have any legitimate feelings for her. Nope.
“I'd beg to differ.” Annabeth sauntered into the kitchen, her hips swaying.
I squinted after her. The voices in the kitchen were happy, laughing. Probably about me and my drooling. Pfft. I don't drool.
I pull myself up and struggle into the kitchen. My back ached from the broken spring in the sofa, I groaned inwardly.
Unlike my dream, the smell of rich maple syrup and warm butter wandered throughout the house. I kissed my mother of the cheek and said good morning to Paul before falling into the chair next to Annabeth.
She was dressed in denim shorts and a blue, flowery tank top. I couldn't help but notice how pretty she looked in my favorite color. I pushed that thought from my already clouded head. Her hair was extra curly, piled around her shoulders. Her eyes were bright and awake.
When my mother set a plate of pancakes in front of me, I took a huge bite before remembering my dream. Suddenly, I felt very sick. I pushed the food away from me. The movement was met by a very concerned look from my mother.
“I'm not hungry.” I said in response to her stare.
“Bull,” she said. “You're always hungry.”
“Except for right now.”
She shook her head and took another bite of food, obviously not in the mood to bicker with me. Paul shot me a confused glance, but I raised my eyebrows at him and he looked away. Annabeth happily swallowed.
“Paul got the boat out yesterday,” Sally said, looking out the window at the lake as it sparkled with the late morning sun. “Why don't you go get it running and take Annabeth over to Pelican Rock?”
My stomach twisted. No thank you.
“I'm sure Annabeth doesn't want to see a bunch of boring pelicans fight over fish.” I mumbled quickly.
“Actually,” Annabeth spoke, causing me to grit my teeth in annoyance. “I really like pelicans. I would love to see it.”
“Great! Percy, since you aren't hungry you should go get the boat started.” Mom ordered.
“But-”
“It might take a while. We haven't used it in a long time.” Paul added.
I dumped my plate in the sink and went to get dressed before heading outside.
As I tugged a new shirt over my head, I grumbled to myself about the stupid boat. The thing was a dinosaur. My mom's parents had owned it before they died, and I wouldn't be surprised if their parents owned it too. It hardly ran on a good day. I was not looking forward to being stuck in it all afternoon with Annabeth.
She came out the front door right as I was pulling the cover off of the top. Dust flew through the air, and I sneezed. She giggled.
“Nice boat.” she commented, climbing down into it. Waved lapped against the edges. I sat in the driver’s seat and put the keys in the ignition. It didn't start.
“Yeah, yeah. Shut up, Wise Girl.” I snapped. She chuckled.
It took five more tries and two times checking the gas before I got it started. The engine sputtered to life loudly; I jumped so hard I fell out of the seat. Lake water splashed over the side of the boat.
“Your grace is impressive.”
“Tell me about it.”
I heaved myself back into the driver’s seat, the boat vibrating underneath me. Annabeth sat in the chair next to me, her hands clasped over her backpack on her lap.

Pelican Rock is exactly what it sounds like. It's a huge rock that barely clears the deepest part of the lake; dozens of pelicans perch there to eat their lunches. The perimeter around the rock is the best fishing grounds in New York. I stop the boat a ways away from the rock and put it in park.
Annabeth stands up and opens her backpack to reveal a huge bag of M&Ms. she plops one in her mouth, glancing at me sideways.
“They're so pretty aren't they?” she says, in regard to the two dozen pelicans fighting for more space on the rock.
“I actually think they're ugly.” I say, getting up to stand by her. I stuff my hands in my pockets. “I mean, those mouths wouldn't look good on anyone.”
“Don't be so stupid,” Annabeth comments. “They need large mouths to hold the fish in before they swallow it.”
“Well, maybe if they chewed their food like regular people-”
“They aren't people, Percy. They're animals.”
“Yeah, but-”
“Oh my god, Percy. Will you just-” Annabeth stops abruptly, shaking her head in despair.
“Will I just what?”
“Stop talking.” Annabeth says straight. But she glances at me and smiles before offering me her bag of M&Ms.
I look through it briefly, before sticking my fingers in and grabbing a single piece of the candy. I crunch it loudly.
“Just one?”
“I only eat the blue ones.”
“Ah.”
“My mom used to order bags of just the blue ones – you know, on that website where you can design your own M&M or something? She got tired of me leaving half the bag to waste.” I said, not thinking before I spoke. A pelican jumped off the rock and flew off; probably in search of food. “She doesn't like M&Ms.”
“She doesn't like chocolate?!” Annabeth exclaimed.
“Oh, she likes chocolate just fine. Just for some reason she's never liked M&Ms. I think they remind her of her parents.”
Annabeth was silent for a while, before asking, “What happened to them?”
“Died in a plane crash when she was little.” I said simply. There was no emotion in my voice. I kept my eyes in Pelican Rock.
“Oh,” Annabeth pursed her lips. “Sorry.”
“It's fine. I never knew them.”
“Did you ever know any of your grandparents?”
I found myself thinking of my dream as I looked at her. Her eyes were silvery in the hot sunlight; her hair burned gold. The pelicans were making loud noises; flapping their wings and squawking at each other. Did pelicans even squawk?
“No.” I said suddenly, realizing there had been too long of a pause between words.
She looked away from me, admiring the pelicans as they fought over the rock. For a second there, it had felt like we were actually friends, not business partners – if you could even call it that. She worked for me. And the only reason I hadn't fired her yet was because my dad said I wasn't allowed to! But that got me wondering . . . if my dad suddenly found a better architect and asked me to fire her, would I be able to?
It seemed the more I got to know Annabeth, the less I hated her. I realized that we hadn't had a good fight in a while. Granted, dad told us to suck it up and pretend to get along. Somewhere along the way of pretending, we actually started getting along. Huh.
“You know,” I said. “This is a really good swimming lake.”
Annabeth scrunched her nose up. “EW, really?” I nodded. “That's gross. And besides, I-”
Before she finished her sentence I grabbed the bag of candy from her hands and pushed her off the boat. She fell into the water with a splash – droplets splattered all over me. For a minute, she didn't come up, which worried me a little. But she broke through the surface of the water, gasping for air and screaming.
“Percy!” she screeched. “I can't swim!” she bobbed up and down in the water, her arms flailing.
“You liar.” I muttered.
“No, Percy. I'm serious! I don't know how to swim-” her words were cut off by her head sinking underneath the water.

I waited. But after a minute I discarded the bag of candy and dove into the lake.

When I pulled her back up on the boat, she wasn't fighting me. That's how I knew there was something terribly wrong. I swore under my breath as I felt for her pulse – still there, but slight. She wasn't breathing. I sucked in a breath when I realized what I had to do.
“I'm going to kill myself.” I muttered as I tilted Annabeth's head back and opened her mouth. I put my lips on hers and blew in.
I'm going to kill myself, I repeated in my head. If Annabeth doesn't kill me first.

When she started breathing again, I didn't notice. So my mouth was still pressed firmly on hers when she hit me.
I jumped back from her, landing with a thump and hitting my head on the bottom of the boat.
“Shit, Annabeth! That's going to leave a mark!” I held my cheek, embarrassed.
Annabeth coughed, spewing out lake water. But when she was done retching she looked utterly furious. “Who the hell gave you permission to kiss me you asshole!” she screamed, standing up and throwing the half-full bag of M&Ms at me. The candy rained down over me and hit me in the eye. I flinched away from her anger.
“I wasn't kissing you! You weren't breathing – it was mouth-to-mouth!” I defended myself feebly.
“I'd rather drown than have you kiss me – ulck!” She shivered in disgust.
I felt a little offended about that. Would she really rather die than kiss me? Was I really that repulsive? Wow. I needed to have a serious look in the mirror and reevaluate myself.
Water still dripped from both of us. Annabeth's hair was stringy, stuck to her neck with mucky lake water. Her eyes were rimmed in red, her hands were clenched. Peeling her shirt away from her skin, she shook her hands and wrung out her hair. Not bothering to do it over the side of the boat. The floor of said boat was covered in puddles of water. I sighed angrily and tugged a hand through my soaked hair.
I wasn't quite sure what to say. Did she expect me to apologize? Because I wasn't going to say I was sorry for saving her life – even if I had been the one to endanger it. I cursed myself internally when I realized that. That's the second time in two months I'd almost been responsible for killing her. First with the cinnamon and now this? Shit, I was a mess.
“I'm not apologizing for saving you.” I said finally.
“No? Than why don't you apologize for putting me in a position where I needed to be saved.” she snapped, flinging herself into her chair and wrapping her arms around it.
“Annabeth, I didn't know.”
“Just like you didn't know with the cinnamon, Percy.” I was silent as I got up and went to the driver’s seat. “Did you ever think that maybe you should stop assuming? Assuming that I'm not allergic to cinnamon? Assuming that just because I grew up in California, I know how to swim?”
“I didn't know you grew up in California,” I said.
It wasn't the right thing to say.
Annabeth glared at me. “So you just assumed that every kid learns how to swim right? Well in case you didn't pick up on it yesterday; I didn't have a very good childhood, Percy. My family never bothered with me.”
“Annabeth, I'm sorry-”
“I don't want to hear it, Percy.” she said. “I shouldn't have come.”
I wanted to argue. I wanted to tell her that it was my fault and it had been a good idea for her to come because I'd been having a pretty good time until the past ten minutes. But then I remembered my dream the previous night, and as I watched her stormy eyes glare at the horizon in anger, I decided maybe I shouldn't say anything.

After a very tense boat ride back – during which I thought of excuses as for why we were both soaked – I was surprised to find my cousins waiting for us at the edge of the dock.
Jason and Thalia sat with their feet in the water, swishing the seaweed that grew there. When they saw me, both of them smiled and waved. I plastered a half-smile on my face and nodded, looking over to where Annabeth was still angrily pouting.
“Who are they?” she asked.
“My cousins. Jason and Thalia.” I told her as I parked the boat on the other side of the dock.
Jason and Thalia, although siblings, looked absolutely nothing alike. They had the same electric blue eyes, but the similarities stopped there. Thalia was dressed in black shorts and a camisole, her dark hair spiky and short. Jason was blonde, with wiry glasses and basketball shorts. They stood and greeted us, confused looked gracing their faces.
I snickered a little at my inside joke. Their last name was Grace.
“Why are you so wet?” Thalia asked.
I glanced at Annabeth out of the corner of my eye. She obviously expected me to answer. I scrambled to come up with something. I couldn't very well tell them that I pushed my guest in the lake. But I couldn't lie either
“Uh. . .” I rubbed the back of my neck. “We fell in the water.”
Thalia looked at me like, really? Jason chuckled. Annabeth smiled timidly at the two of them, but stayed silent. She didn't offer the real story.
Mom asked the same question when we walked into the house. I replied in the same way. Annabeth went to her room. I went to my room. My mother, step-dad, and cousins all looked at each other in questioning.
I changed clothes and ran a towel over my hair before walking back into the hallway. Everyone else was outside building a campfire. Just my luck, Annabeth opened her door at the same time I did. She looked at me blankly, then stalked outside without a word.
Annabeth and Thalia hit it off immediately. They didn't have much in common, but somehow they got along great. Jason and I hung out, which was cool. Mom and Paul sort of sat off to the side, talking in quiet voices. Sally looked back and forth between Annabeth and I, like she knew what had really happened out on the lake.
“So how do you know Annabeth again?” Jason asked as he stuffed a s'more into his mouth.
“My dad hired her to build the new headquarters,” I told him.
I looked out over the lake at the sun started to sink below the horizon. I still felt awful about pushing Annabeth into the lake, and was dreading the drive back into the city the next day. I wondered if I could get Thalia to take her.
I explained to Jason about how Annabeth and I don't really get along very well. He grimaced.
“And your mom invited her here, to teach you a lesson?”
I nodded.
“Harsh, man.”

I was afraid to go to sleep. I was afraid I would have another dream about Annabeth. I was also afraid that I wouldn't. I thought back to the dream, how I had teased her about her awful cooking, but she had told me she loved me back after I said it.
In what world was that possible? Even if I did have feelings for Annabeth – which I don't – a relationship would never work out between us. Whether it was romantic or not, it just wouldn't. We were too different. We hardly ever stopped fighting. She hated me. I hated her.
Sure, maybe I hated her a little less than when we first met, but that didn't mean I liked her! It was just because now, we both knew each other’s story. We knew little things about each other – even if I had found out that she was allergic to cinnamon and couldn't swim in the worst ways possible.
That thought brought me back to my stupidity. She was right about me. All I ever did was assume. I assumed she could swim. I assumed she wasn't allergic to cinnamon. I assumed she didn't hate me as much anymore. I assumed we were friends. It's what I do, I assume.
And it was slowly ruining everything.

It wasn't until Wednesday that Annabeth finally said something to me. After five days of silence, I'm not sure what I was expecting. But it was definitely not what happened.

At the end of the day, I offered her a ride home like I do every day. But unlike every day, she accepted. I waved Jake off and opened the door for her, letting her slide in before me. It wasn't until we were halfway back to Garden Towers that she said it. Two simple words that completely took me off guard.
“I'm quitting.” she said. She didn't look at me as I gaped at her momentarily, unable to fully process what I'd just heard.
“What?”
“I'm quitting.” she repeated, finally turning her head to look at me.
Her luminous eyes were hard and serious. There was no uncertainty evident in them at all. After five days overseeing the builders and not talking to me, this is what she came up with? Can she do this? Can she actually just quit right in the middle of a project and leave us hanging like that? It didn't seem very professional to me.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean,” she clarified. “Tomorrow I've arranged a meeting with your dad. And during that meeting, I'm going to resign.”
“Annabeth,” I started. “You can't quit.”
“Why can't I?” she challenged. “You obviously don't want me here. I don't want to be here. The builders will do fine without me now that the plans are all drawn up. There's absolutely no reason for me not to quit.”
Again, I wanted to tell her she was wrong. I wanted to tell her that ever since she'd started working for me, I'd been a better person. I wanted to tell her that I had feelings for her and that she couldn't leave now because I wanted to try them out. I wanted to tell her all these things and more. But I couldn't. Because they weren't true.
And the truth of that is what hit me the hardest.
I hadn't been a better person at all. I had pranked her and put her in life-threatening situations and been nothing but rude to her the entire time. She was right, I didn't want her here and she didn't want to be here. I had no feelings for her at all. She was just my co-worker. She had absolutely no reason not to quit.
When I didn't say anything, she nodded her head in conformation. “See?” she said. “The only reason we even talked civilly to each other was because of your parents. You know that, I know that. There's no point in either of us being miserable any longer.”
I nodded. But then I thought of my dream. I thought of my arms around her waist. I thought of how I'd teased her about her cooking skills. I thought about how I had told her I loved her. I thought about how she had said it back. I thought about how we had kissed.
Then I thought about when I had pulled her up out of the water at the lake. How she'd had no breath. How my stomach had dropped, not at the thought of what I was going to do next, but out of fear of losing her. I thought about how I had put my mouth on hers – even if it was for mouth-to-mouth.
My stomach dropped the same way right then. She was quitting and it was my fault.
Jake opened the door. I hadn't realized we had arrived back at Garden Towers. I jumped out of the car and stalked to the elevator.
The ride to our floor was silent. We both knew what the other was thinking. I wanted to tell her it had been nice working with her, although it hadn't been. So I didn't.
It was when she was turning to go into her apartment that I did it. Patting my pockets, I realized I had no idea where my key was, so I turned around and grabbed her by the hand. She whipped her head around swiftly, her curly locks spilling down her back. Her stormy gray eyes were intense and hard on mine, but they softened a little at my words.
“Annabeth?” I said timidly. She raised her eyebrows. “I'm sorry.”
It was all that needed to be said. It summed up the past two months perfectly, in that one moment. I was sorry about how awful I had been to her at times. I was sorry we hadn't gotten along all the time. I was sorry we couldn't have had more of the moments we did have. Like driving to the cabin; the few quiet moments on the boat before the incident; hell, even the rare days when we wouldn't fight at the office. The days when we worked in comfortable silence. I was sorry we hadn't had more of those.
'I'm sorry' seemed the only way I could get the point across.
I held onto her hand for five seconds longer than I should have. I counted in my head as neither of us moved. She was the first to turn away and scurry back into her apartment.
I leaned against my door and pulled out my cell phone. I had to get another key made.

“Maybe you should get a key ring.” Kate suggested as I gave her the rundown of my ongoing problem.
I was leaning one elbow on her desk, frowning into a coffee cup. Annabeth and my father had disappeared into my office twenty minutes ago. It shouldn't be taking so long to resign, right? I thought about asking Kate this, but decided better of it before my mouth could take the lead. She probably wouldn't know anyways. She would never quit a job.
“Maybe I should.” I agreed.
I didn't tell her that I had one already. The only problem was that instead of losing just the key, I had lost the entire damn key ring! I didn't know how you misplaced something so big. I was just happy I decided against attaching my Ferrari keys to it.
It was another half hour before Annabeth and my dad walked out of the room. Dad shook my hand without a word and got in the elevator. Annabeth smiled timidly at Kate and went back into our office. I followed her.
She was standing with her back to the door, looking out the huge window behind my desk. She wasn't dressed in her usual pencil skirt and blazer, but rather shorts and a t-shirt. Her outfit only made it obvious that she had quit. I felt a rock of guilt settle in my stomach.
“I didn't quit.” she said.
“Come again?” I stepped farther into the office and shut the door. I wasn't sure I'd heard her right.
“I was going to, but your dad offered me a promotion. I took it.” She said after she'd turned back towards me finally.
A mixture of relief and disappointment surged through me. Which was odd. I didn't really understand how my dad could promote her since she was just an architect he'd hired to build his new building but . . . okay?
“What's the promotion?” I asked.
“Co-CEO.”
Right then.

Right then is when my life ended.

The next month was an adjustment to say the least.
Another desk was stuffed into my office. Annabeth's name was etched onto a gold plate and attached to the door – right above mine. Kate started working for her too. But the thing that really got me?
My mother threw a promotion party for her.
All my cousins were there. Along with everyone that worked for us, and their families. It was a huge party – all for Annabeth. I. Was. Pissed.
As much as I thought we could actually be friends, we hardly talked anymore. Even though we shared an office, a car, and lived on the same apartment floor, there was hardly any words other than the occasional, 'you look nice today' or 'you have mustard on your crooked tie.'
It wasn't until one day in late August that something drastic happened.

We had a company dinner at the nicest restaurant in the city. After work, Annabeth and I loaded up into the car with Kate and a few other random co-workers, and made our way downtown. The Lexus wasn't big enough for all the people we had crammed in there, so Annabeth and I were pressed up against each other by the window. Kate was on the other side of me, but for some reason, all I could think about was how Annabeth's thigh was hard on mine. Her body heat radiated onto me; her breath was shallow.
“Is there any way you could scoot over?” my voice was low in Annabeth's ear, trying to avoid a scene.
Annabeth sneered at me. “If I could move, don't you think I would've by now?”
I cleared my throat. “Err. . . Right. Uh- sorry.”
She didn't reply.
All throughout dinner, her foot kept accidentally tapping my shin. We were seated across from each other and she had some sort of nervous tick or something – her leg was bouncing back and forth, hitting my leg every time. But she obviously didn't notice.
This didn't make it very easy to ignore her. Her honey-gold hair was tied up sloppily – although it still looked professional – her shirt was unbuttoned very low, exposing her collarbone. Her gray eyes were collected and focused on the conversation at hand. She was beautiful. I found myself thinking of the dream I'd had at the Lake House.
“What do you think, Mr. Jackson?” someone asked, breaking me out of my thoughts.
“What?” I said stupidly. Great job, Percy, I chided myself. Stop looking at her and pay attention.
I felt like hitting myself over the head with a brick.
“About how the building for the new HQ is going,” Kate clarified, leaning over the table so I could see her.
I scrambled for a response. Something professional. Something smart. Something good.
“Good.” my voice cracked. I cleared my throat. “I mean, I think it's going good. Miss Chase has done a fantastic job.” I glanced at Annabeth, who was having a very intense staring contest with her plate. She wrung her hands in her lap.
The rest of the dinner was slow and awkward. When everyone finally got into their respective cabs and left, leaving Annabeth and I waiting at the door for Jake, I was about ready to collapse. Thank God it was Friday.
Thankfully, it was late enough for rush hour to be over. The drive home was quick and before long, the two of us were walking to our doors. It was then that I realized I didn't have my key again. I groaned outwardly, running my hand over my face. “Dammit.”
“You lost your key again? Are you serious?” Annabeth bit back a laugh.
“Hey, don't laugh at me. I'm irresponsible.” it was a feeble attempt at defending myself, I know. But I was a little busy staring at the single piece of hair that had fallen into her eyes to think about what I was saying. It brushed her cheek softly; I had the sudden urge to reach out and curl it behind her ear. I resisted.
“Obviously,” Annabeth scoffed. “Why don't you call Fred?”
“I would, but it's late. He's probably gone home already.” I mumbled, sitting down against the door. Might as well get comfortable. It was going to be a long night.
Annabeth surprised me by sitting down next to me against the wall. She wasn't touching me, but she was close enough that I could smell her perfume and feel the heat of her. She said nothing.
I wasn't sure what to say. We hadn't really talked since I threw her in the lake, and I wasn't sure if she was still mad at me. But we couldn't go on like this forever! We worked together now, as equals. We were going to have to be friends eventually.
“Look,” I started, treading carefully on the rocky waters that were being laid out in front of me. “We need to find a way to get past this, Annabeth. I'm sorry I- I'm sorry about what happened at the lake. You're right about how I assume about everything, and I'm sorry. Can we try to be friends again?”
I was pretty proud of my mini speech, even though my voice broke multiple times and I was breathing heavy from her sitting so close to me. But when she didn't say anything at first, I got scared she would stand up and walk back into her house.
After about five minutes, she looked up at me timidly, and smiled a little.
“I would like that,” she said.
I nodded. That piece of hair was still hanging in her eyes, brushing the skin right over her cheekbone. I wanted to press my lips to the spot – right under her eye. And I almost did.
And then the lights went out.
“What the hell?” I said. It was so dark, I couldn't see Annabeth sitting right next to me anymore. I felt her stand up and I followed suit. I put my hand out to touch her arm so I would know where she was. A spike of electricity hit my fingertips and I pulled my hand away just as fast. Well that was a new development.
“We must have lost electricity,” Annabeth stated the obvious.
“I know, Wise Girl. It's dark.” I said sarcastically.
“I know, Seaweed Brain. I have eyes.”
“I know-”
“Percy, this is getting old really fast,” Annabeth laughed. I nodded, then realized she couldn't see me.
It was odd that no one else was coming out of their apartments wondering why the lights were off, except it was probably around midnight by now.
Annabeth was breathing hard in front of me. Now that my eyes had adjusted somewhat, I could see the outline of her body. She reached up and pulled the hair-tie out of her hair – letting it tumble down her shoulders.
Without thinking, I moved my hand out and tugged on a strand of her hair softly.
“Percy?”
Before she could say anything else, I leaned forward and pressed my mouth to hers. Softly. Quickly. So quick in fact, that I pulled away before she could react.
She said nothing.
I turned towards the wall and bit my lip. What the hell am I doing? What the hell was that? Shit.
The lights flickered on; there was a sound like a door opening and closing. When I finally turned around again, she was gone. The hallway was empty.

Luckily for me, Annabeth acted as though the kiss had never happened.
The next morning, we met in the lobby like we always did. We smiled and said good morning like we always did. We even got in the car and made polite conversation like we always did. Except for some reason, it was more comfortable to sit in the silence that day. It was easier.
In the month leading up to that morning, we'd done all of the above. But it had been uncomfortable in the silence. Now, we talked and smiled and acted almost like friends. Jake watched us in the rear-view mirror, probably wondering what had changed.
It almost seemed backwards. Usually when someone kisses the other person, things get even more awkward. But me kissing her seemed to have the opposite effect! Ha! How great was this? Maybe we could actually be friends now!
That might work, if I wasn't painfully aware of her hand, which was only half a foot away from my leg. . .
“Why did the chicken cross the road?” Annabeth asked suddenly. She was looking out the window, her hair over her shoulder.
I moved to look out the window with her. Sure enough, there was a man walking a chicken across the crosswalk. The chicken had a leash and everything. How strange. I shrugged. It was New York, after all.
Annabeth repeated her question, looking to me for the answer. I knew I had heard the riddle before, and the answer was on the tip of my tongue. But it just wouldn't come. Why did the chicken cross the road? Ugh, I couldn't remember. I scrambled for an answer.
“Because the damn chicken wanted to.” I said with fake confidence.
Annabeth threw her head back in laughter, holding her stomach. “'Because the damn chicken wanted to' oh my god, Percy.” she continued laughing. Even Jake was smiling a bit in the front seat. I cracked a smile and let out a low laugh.
I actually didn't think it was that funny. I had said it in a moment of panic. Annabeth was still laughing hysterically, trying hard for breath. She calmed down halfway to the office, but chuckled silently the rest of the way.
When we got back to the office, Kate informed me that my dad was meeting us at the building site before lunch. We were only in the office for a half hour before we had to leave again. The drive to the building site wasn't long, just across town. And since it was late morning, the traffic wasn't so bad.
My dad was waiting for us on the sidewalk – across the street from the ongoing construction. He was dressed in a black suit, his dark, graying hair messy like mine. He was typing away on his cell phone, not even looking at us as Annabeth and I shut the car doors and crossed the street to him. He looked up when we were standing right next to him.
The new headquarters was being built near the river, and the cool breeze from the water rustled my hair. Annabeth's hair was flying in her face also. Just like the previous night, there was a shorter piece brushing her cheekbone. I had to fight the urge to twirl it in my finger. I looked away from her.
“Hey, dad,” I said, breaking the initial silence. I held my hand out for him to shake it; he did. Annabeth followed my lead and smiled widely at her new boss.
“I hope the progress is satisfactory, Mr. Jackson.” She said, tucking the strand of hair I'd been staring at behind her ear.
I was glad for this; it gave me an excuse to stop looking at her.
“Very, Miss Chase,” my dad said stiffly, although he smiled warmly at Annabeth. “I made a good choice making you co-CEO. I know you won't disappoint me.”
“Thank you very much sir,” Annabeth smiled.
We walked around and talked to a few of the head builders a bit. Annabeth did most of the speaking; my dad and I didn't understand what she was saying about structural supports and foundation and beam crap. I kind of zoned out.
My dad said we could go to lunch a lot later than I would've liked. We spent a total of two hours wandering around the building site – which was only half done. My dad had drilled it into the builders’ head that he had to be finished by September 31st. Mr. Rodriguez – the builder – has assured him it would be done in time.
Jake drove us to a little sushi place down the street. Honestly, I wasn't really into eating raw fish, but Annabeth and my dad seemed to love it. I munched on a bowl of sticky rice, which was actually really good with a little bit of soy sauce and chicken.
“So how's business been?” my dad asks after he finishes chewing something that looked like a tentacle.
Of course he would ask that question. He owns the company and he doesn't even know how sales are going. Well, neither do I. That's why it's so great to have Annabeth on board now. Thankfully, she knows I won't know the answer and speaks for me.
“Business has been great, sir,” she says, putting her chopsticks down and leaning over the table to talk to him. “The profits just keep on rising. This coming holiday season should be a hit.”
“That's exactly what I like to hear, Chase.” Dad smiled.
I poked at my rice with the fork the waiter had given me. There was no way I could eat rice with chopsticks. Who did they think I was? Superman?
“Percy, anything to report?”
I looked up in alarm, my fork clattering to the table. “Uh. . . Yeah. I got an email back from Mr. Gold – the man in China. They want to team up with us to start a chain of stores in Beijing. And also, Bright Lights Inc. had agreed to sell to us. We've gotten a whole lot bigger.”
I clapped myself on the back for actually saying all those words without choking. Annabeth shot me a small 'good job' smile. I smirked in response.
“Well,” dad said. “I'd say you two are a good team. Keep up the good work.”
We nodded simultaneously. All three of us bent over our food.
It wasn't long until a polite conversation was struck up. But when my dad asked Annabeth about her family, I figured we were in for some trouble. Her tragic back-story wasn't something you told over a business lunch.
“They live in San Francisco, sir. I don't see them very often.” she replied. Surprisingly, unlike when she'd told me about them, she looked him straight in the eye. I was impressed.
“Whenever you want vacation time, just take it. You don't normally have to be at work unless something major is happening. Percy can hold down the fort while you visit your family for a few days.” he suggested.
I mentally scoffed.
“No, sir. It's really okay-”
“Actually, I just got a great idea!” dad said happily, putting down his chopsticks over his empty plate. I move around my rice, not particularly interested in his so-called 'great idea.'
“Bright Lights Inc. is in San Francisco. You and Percy need to go there to meet with them more about the sale. How about the two of you go next week? I'll even give you both some free, paid vacation days.”
I'd started listening as soon as he mentioned my name. Annabeth and I were going to San Francisco next week. My stomach twisted with dread and excitement all at once. Annabeth looked like she was going to throw up her raw fish.
I could tell she didn't want to go, but it was an offer neither of us could refuse. Well, it wasn't really an offer. It was more like a demand that was phrased to sound like an offer. Anyways, we were going. And there was nothing either of us could do about it.
“That sounds lovely,” Annabeth choked. “You're so generous.”
My dad looked pretty happy about that compliment.

“I really hate airports,” Annabeth said a week later as we were walking towards the crowded security line.
Jake had dropped us off three hours before our flight left – which was necessary, considering the three mile long security line. It was early in the morning, but the airport was packed with people. I groaned as Annabeth and I settled into the line.
“Why?” I asked, in regard to Annabeth's statement. She scrunched her nose up before replying.
“Too many people. And they smell weird. And I don't appreciate being patted down.”
“They smell weird?” I sniffed the air. It smelled normal to me.
“You've never noticed?” she turned to me in horror. I shook my head. “Maybe all the seaweed in your head is clogging your nose.”
“Probably.”
“You're not even going to try to defend yourself?” she laughed.
We stepped forward a few feet in the line.
“Nah,” I rubbed my neck. “You're probably right.”
Annabeth grabbed her heart, opening her mouth wide in mock surprise. “Did Percy Jackson just say I was right?”
“Hey, I've said it before,” I said, remembering a week before when I had kissed her after the lights went out. My throat tightened. Not a good time to think about that, I scolded myself.
“You're right. You have.” Annabeth said, obviously not thinking through her answer.
I made the same expression she had, pulling my hands out of my pockets so I could clutch my heart.
“Did Annabeth Chase just say I was right?” I exclaimed. “I must be dreaming.”
Annabeth laughed. “Oh, so you dream about me, huh?”
I was so caught off guard I almost fell over. I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks. Don't think about it, don't you dare think about it, Percy.
I scoffed. “Of course not.”
“Why is your face so red then?”
I thought about turning away, but that would only prove her theory. So I locked my eyes with hers and willed my face to return to its normal coloring.
“My face is naturally a little red.”
“Liar. I've seen your face more than once, Seaweed Brain. I know it's not.” Annabeth crossed her arms.
Someone behind us yelled at us to keep to line moving, so we paused our staring contest and moved up a bit.
“You look at my face then?” I challenged.
“Of course I do. I have to look at your face to talk to you.”
Dammit. I was bad at this game.
“Are you excited to see your family?” I asked randomly. We were the next in line for the metal detector; I was in the process of throwing my shoes, wallet, watch and phone into a bucket. Annabeth looked up from where she was doing the same in front of me.
“More like dreading it.” she mumbled.
“Do they know you're coming?”
She nodded. “I called my dad that night. He sounded excited.”
“Well that's good.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
We were silent until we got past the metal detector. I asked her if she wanted to get anything to eat, since I hadn't had breakfast before Jake had dragged me out of my apartment at five in the morning. I'd barely had time to get dressed. Plus, we still had two hours to kill before we could board. I didn't want to sit at the gate for that long. Might as well walk around while we can.
Annabeth agreed, dragging me into a burger joint. “I need meat,” she said. I laughed.
“I can honestly say I've never heard a woman say that.”
“Well now you can say you've heard it twice, because I need meat.” Annabeth got the hostess to lead us to a table in the back.
“It's a good thing you aren't a vegetarian,” I muttered, sitting down across from her.
“Actually I was for a while in high-school,” she informed me. She folded her hands over her arms and leaned against the table.
“Really?”
“Yeah, my dad used to make this awful meatloaf surprise thing. I hated it so much I became a vegetarian just so he wouldn't make me eat it.”
“Gross.”
“Oh, it was. I think it was worse than mystery meat at school.”
I shivered just thinking about school food. Even at all the private schools I'd gone to in my childhood, none of them had food any better than the public schools.
We both ordered burgers, Annabeth asked for avocado on hers. I sneered at the word. She asked defensively what I had against avocados.
“I used to love them,” I admitted. “One time in second grade, I ate so many avocados I got sick. I've never eaten them since.”
“Wait,” she held a hand up, biting back laughter. “You ate raw avocados? Like just scooped out the flesh and ate it?”
“Yeah! That's how much I loved them.”
Annabeth laughed; her eyes crinkling. She was so beautiful.
“I've never heard of that!”
“Really? My mom does it too. Except she didn't eat them obsessively like I did.”
“Are there any other foods you hate that I should know about?” she chuckled.
“Oh yeah, I can't stand macaroni and cheese.”
“Oh my god, you're kidding.” she covered her mouth with her hand. “I don't like mac and cheese either.”
We talked for a while about our hatred for mac and cheese; where it stemmed from, why the texture and taste mixed together was a bad combination, and ended up finally agreeing that maybe our parents were just bad at making mac and cheese.
When our food finally came, we'd wasted half an hour just talking about pasta. We ate quickly. Annabeth insisted on paying for her half of the bill, and I willingly let her, since I didn't really want to pay the entire thing – god, hamburgers are expensive when they aren't fast food.
I dragged her into the airport gift shop – where they sell anything from perfume to suitcases to clothing. I stopped at the rack with turtle shaped plush toys. They were green, blue, and purple tie-dye, with big black beads for eyes and weird cushiony talons.
“Don't tell me you're going to buy one of those. . .” Annabeth said carefully, eying me wearily.
“Nah, look at their beady little eyes,” I chuckled, fingering one of the beads.
I was extremely proud of my pun. But Annabeth seemed to find it lame. She rolled her eyes, shook her head, and turned the other way towards the perfume bar. I followed her.
She sprayed some of one kind onto a piece of thin paper, then brought it to her nose. She cringed.
“Why would anyone want to smell like this?”
“Lemme see,” I took it out of her hands gently. She was right, it smelled awful. Like wet dog and grape juice mixed together. I gagged and threw it in her direction.
“What the hell is that?”
“It's called. . . Sensual Grapefruit?” she sneered sarcastically at the name.
“How could a grapefruit be sensual? That's not even realistic.”
Annabeth laughed. “I don't know. Seems like a pretentious name to me.”
I nodded in agreement.
I bought a bar of chocolate, but we got out of the store before an employee could come over and talk to us about sensual grapefruits.

We only had about forty-five minutes wait before the plane started boarding, so we decided to grab some water bottles and sit at the gate. It was already crowded when we got there, so instead of sitting we leaned against the back wall. It was a straight shot from where we were standing to where the line to board started, so we figured we could be the first ones on the plane if we stayed there.
“But if we're the first ones we'll have to sit on there even longer,” Annabeth reasoned. “And the plane ride is already a few hours. Do we really want to be stuck on that flying death trap for longer than we have to be?”
“Good point. Besides, they board first class tickets first.” I said, looking down at my ticket. “My dad was stingy this time – putting us in coach – you should've thought twice before calling him generous.”
Annabeth scoffed. “A multimillionaire and he can't even give us first class seats?”
“We'll probably be crammed into a row with a four-hundred pound wrestler in-between us.”
“If that happens, we can always bribe him and a thin business woman to switch seats with each other.”
“Good idea, you got any cash?” I patted my pockets, pulling out my wallet. “I've got a few hundred, will that be enough?”
Annabeth shook her head. “You rich people and you're hundred dollar bills.”
I shrugged.
“You know, I've only ever been on one other plane in my life.” Annabeth told me.
“Really?”
“Yeah, it was when I moved here from San Francisco.”
“And now you're going back-”
“Only for a week.” Annabeth added.
“To see your family.”
She nodded.
“I've been thinking about that. . . I don't think I'm going to go.”
“Why? I mean, I know why but . . . don't you think you should, I don't know, see them at least once?”
“No?”
“I think you should,” I said without thinking.
“Why do you care?”
I didn't know the answer to that. But luckily I was spared of answering because just then our plane was called to start boarding. We walked through the tunnel onto the plane in silence, dozens of other people around us. The subject didn't come up again the entire plane ride, which I was grateful for.
Annabeth took the window seat, I sat beside her. By the time the plane was getting ready to take off, no one had sat in the seat to my right. I couldn't believe my luck.
“We won't have to bribe anyone to move after all.” Annabeth smirked.
“Whew, I thought I was going to use all my cash.”
“Oh shut up. It's not like you couldn't have stopped at an ATM and replenished it.”
“That would mean finding an ATM. Now I don't have to.”
I noticed Annabeth was wringing her hands in her lap nervously. I ran a hand through my hair.
“You're going to have to eventually,” she said. “We're there for a week.”
“That's what debit cards are for. I don't need cash.”
“Then why were you worried about your cash in the first place?”
I shrugged.
“Seaweed Brain,” Annabeth muttered under her breath as the plane started speeding down the runway.
Pretty soon, we were at cruising altitude. Annabeth and I both refused those stupid bags of peanuts, and we had our water bottles already, so we waved the stewardess off.
It wasn't long before Annabeth fell asleep. I watched her eyelashes flutter silently. Her hair fell into her face when her head slumped onto my shoulder. I tensed, waiting for her to wake up and hit me. When she didn't, I let myself relax.
I dared to reach over and brush the hair out of her face. I tucked it behind her ear. It was weird looking at her without her eyes open. Without the startling silver-gray that reminded me of a dangerous storm cloud, she looked calm. She was beautiful when she slept. I leaned back and closed my eyes, trying to ignore the pressure of her head on my shoulder.
When I opened my eyes again, the pilot was mumbling something into the walkie-talkie. I assumed he said that we were about to land in San Francisco, considering how low we were when I looked out the window.
Annabeth was still asleep, and the idea of waking her up terrified me, I'd grown up with my mom, I knew how women were when they were woken up before they wanted to wake up. I was not going to end up as a chew toy. So I bribed the stewardess to wake her for me.
Annabeth wasn't as mad as I thought she would be, but that was probably because it was a random woman shaking her gently and not me. Or any other male specimen for that matter.
I walked back to my seat from where I was watching from the bathroom and sat down next to Annabeth. She eyed me as I settled in and buckled my seat-belt over my lap.
“We're landing soon,” I told her, not daring to look at her. I glued my eyes to the back of the seat in front of me.
“I know, the stewardess told me,” she said.
I suddenly felt very stupid.
“Ah.”
The plane landed before either of us said anything else. In fact, we got all the way to the luggage carousal before either of us said anything. I ran and grabbed my bag off of the track, Annabeth walking leisurely behind me. I stood and waited for her; she snatched her suitcase and came to stand by me.
“I think you should go,” I said.
“What?”
“I think you should go see your family tomorrow night.”
“But-”
“Annabeth, nothing is ever going to change between you guys if you don't put your differences behind you and try to get along.” I realized with a start that's what we were trying to do. And we had. I thought.
“Percy, I'm not sure it's that easy. He didn't even care about me. He still doesn't,” Annabeth said, running a hand through her hair to smooth out the tangles.
“You don't know that. You haven't seen him for seven years.” I insisted.
Annabeth sighed. I had a feeling an argument was about to come, instead she walked outside to find a taxi. I followed her.
“I'm not going to say you're right,” she spoke slowly as a taxi she'd hailed came to a stop on the curb where we were standing. The sticky California heat made my hair stick to my forehead. “But I'll go if you go.”
She threw our bags in the trunk and opened the door for me to climb in the backseat first.
Her last words confused me, why would she want me there to mess it up?
“Moral support,” she clarified as she sat next to me in the taxi.
I mulled over my response as she told the taxi driver the name of the hotel we were staying at. Dinner with Annabeth and her family? They would think that was weird wouldn't they? Their daughter bringing a co-worker to a family diner with her? They would think something else was going on. And nothing was going on. Or was it?
“You don't have to come, I was just-”
“No. I mean, yeah. I'll come,” I said, unthinking.
Annabeth smiled in response.
Once at the hotel, we parted ways, saying we would meet for dinner at the restaurant on the main floor. It wasn't formal, just two co-workers having dinner together so it wouldn't be so lonely.
I thought about changing clothes, but I figured sweatpants wouldn't be acceptable in a five-star restaurant. So I settled for throwing a blazer on over my red t-shirt. Tug on a pair of dark jeans and I was good to go. Sneakers would have to do. I was not shoving my feet back in those stupid dress shoes.
My mom called to make sure I had made it okay, and to check up on Annabeth. She had a weird fascination with her. One weekend at our cabin and suddenly she was the daughter she never had. I made a mental note to tell Annabeth that.
Grover called me too; to tell me he had proposed to Juniper. I thought that it seemed a little fast for them to get married, but I was happy for him just the same. I knew his mother was going to have a cow when she found out.
I wasn't even that hungry, after the huge burger I'd had for lunch. Annabeth seemed to be feeling the same because we just ordered two salads and some bread-sticks.
“Italian food is my favorite,” I said into a bread-stick. “My mom takes me to Olive Garden every year for my birthday.”
“Why do you need an excuse to go to Olive Garden?” Annabeth asked, picking at her salad.
“I don't. But when I was little that's the only place I wanted to go on my birthday. It's sort of a tradition now – we only go there on my birthday.”
“When is your birthday?” she asked.
“It was last week – August 18th.”
“Well, happy belated birthday then. Sorry I didn't get you anything,” she brushed her hair behind her ear.
“When's yours?”
“July 7th.”
“Oh, so you're older than me,” I rubbed my neck awkwardly.
“Hah! I have something to use against you now!” She laughed.
“Hey, I don't really care.”
“The blush in your cheeks says otherwise, Percy.”
A strange thrill went through me when she said my name. Had she ever said my name like that before? I don't think she has. There was something different about it this time. But I couldn't place my finger on it.

The night went by fast, and before I knew it, it was the next afternoon and I was just waking up. I jumped in the shower, scrubbing my hair with such intensity my head burned. The gray color of Annabeth's eyes seemed to be hiding everywhere.
My hair was still wet by the time I made it to the lobby. I wiped my hands on my jeans subconsciously. I was dressed in a white collared shirt and a blazer, but I felt as if nothing I wore was going to be good enough for Annabeth's father. Should I be wearing a tie? I should be wearing a tie.
I turned around when someone behind me cleared their throat. It was Annabeth, and my jaw almost dropped.
She was in a dress – a peach colored, spaghetti strap, knee-length dress. The color made her skin glow tan, her hair gold. She didn't have any jewelry on, and she didn't need it. I suddenly felt not only under-dressed, but significantly out of her league. I had to bite my lip to keep my mouth closed.
She pursed her lips as she looked me over.
“Wow,” I breathed. “You look. . . Really nice,” I struggled to keep my voice casual – not to let anything slip into my words. It worked pretty well.
“You too, Seaweed Brain,” she smiled, but her mouth returned to a straight line just as quickly. “Ready to go meet my family?”
“They can't be that bad.” I said.

Boy was I wrong.

The Chase's lived in a two story colonial an hour away from the hotel. The house was painted yellow – which immediately made me weary of them. Anyone with a yellow house was way too happy for me – with white washed shutters and a red door.
“Just take a deep breath,” I advised Annabeth as we stepped out of the taxi and made our way to the door.
“Thanks for coming,” she said softly. “It's scary doing this by myself.”
“No problem. Now should I ring the doorbell or are you going to?”
We were standing at the door. Her hands were knotted together behind her back. She was swaying on the balls of her feet.
“You can,” she said.
I rang the doorbell. Mr. Chase answered the door. He didn't say anything, just looked over both of us and opened the door wide.
“Annabeth, dear. It's so nice to see you.” he gave her a short hug. He didn't look very warm.
“You too, dad,” Annabeth spoke stiffly. Her back was straight as she walked into the house.
“And who is this?” Mr. Chase asked, eying me.
Annabeth looked back at me from inside the house. “A co-worker. We're here on a business trip, remember?”
“Why is he here?”
“Where else is he supposed to go?” Annabeth asked innocently.
Mr. Chase didn't seem to like that answer, but he kept the door open and let me pass into the house.
The house opened up to a staircase on one side and a kitchen on the other. A middle-aged woman was standing over the stove cooking. Her black hair was tied up in a bun; she wore a white apron over her blue dress. She smiled warmly as the three of us walked in.
“The boys are out with some friends tonight; it'll be just us.” Mr. Chase informed us gloomily as he sat down at the kitchen table. There were four chairs. I sat across from Annabeth, her dad sat on the end.
“What's your name, son?” Mr. Chase asked me.
The woman I assumed was his wife – Annabeth's step-mom – came over and sat on the other end of the table. She smiled again.
“I'm Percy Jackson,” I said, reaching my hand out to shake his. I shook both Mr. and Mrs. Chase's hands. They seemed uninterested in my name. They both introduced themselves – Sue and Fredrick – I was to call them by their first names.
“Where are you working now, Annabeth?” Sue asked sweetly, getting up and checking on dinner.
“Earth-Shaker Inc.” she said proudly. Fredrick and Sue both paused to gap at their daughter. Fredrick looked at me. “And you're the old man's son eh?”
I nodded.
“I heard he was a grumpy old man that had no respect for his employees or family.” Fredrick muttered.
“You shouldn't believe everything you hear,” I said.
“Well it was directly from a former college of his,” Fredrick reasoned.
“Maybe this college did something to piss him off?”
This Fredrick was really starting to piss me off.
“I doubt it. All business men are ruthless.”
“Percy's not bad,” Annabeth put in. “Most of the time.”
“Most of the time doesn't cut it. He's probably just like his father-”
“Fredrick!” Sue scolded, hitting his arm with the back of her hand. Her husband stopped talking. He didn't apologize. I decided to let it go; I could be angry about it later. Right now I had to get through this dinner.
There was polite conversation all throughout dinner, with only occasional lapses of awkward silence. Annabeth didn't eat much, just picked at her chicken like it was alive. The chicken itself was actually quite dry and pretty disgusting, but I stuffed in down just to be nice. The smile on Sue's face told me I did well.
“So you two are dating then?” Fredrick pointed between the two of us with his fork.
I choked on my food. Annabeth spit her water out. It sprayed all over me and the table. My face dripped; Annabeth covered her mouth with her hands.
“I'll take that as a no,” Fredrick pursed his lips and looked back down at his plate.
Sue got up to grab a towel and dried the table off. “That was a bit of an overreaction, don't you think dear?” she said to Annabeth as she mopped up the droplets of water.
“I don't think so,” Annabeth muttered. A rock settled in my chest. I moistened my lips.
For the first time that night, an air of awkwardness settled around the room. I finished my chicken. Sue pulled out an apple pie. We ate in silence.
“So how much is this job paying, Annabeth? What's your position?” Fredrick asked. He folded his hands over the table and looked judgingly at his daughter.
“I was just promoted to co-CEO, actually,” Annabeth said proudly. “It pays exceptionally well.”
I had been expecting Sue and Fredrick to look impressed, or proud, or anything. Instead they nodded thoughtfully and looked back down at their plates; saying nothing.
I was beyond glad when Annabeth stood up from the quiet table an hour later, announcing it was time to leave.
We didn't speak until we were halfway back to the hotel.
“That was. . .” I started.
“Awful? Humiliating? Graceless?” Annabeth suggested, looking towards me with small smile.
“I was going to say interesting,” I smirked.
Annabeth nodded, pursing her lips. “You see why I left after high school?” I nodded in understanding.
“Sorry about my dad. . .” she trailed off, twirling her hair around her finger absentmindedly.
“It's okay-”
“No it's not, Percy,” she frowned at me. She was pretty when she frowned; her thin mouth was turned down at the corners. But she was even more beautiful when she smiled. I wanted her to smile at me.
“He was awfully rude; saying all those things about you and your dad. I promise I don't think that about you, I-”
“Annabeth, seriously. It's fine.” I assured her, wanting to put my hand on her shoulder, but holding myself back. “My dad has put up with bad press for years – despite the fact we're 'dedicated to making America healthy' - I’m used to it. It's fine.”
She pursed her lips. I mulled over what I could say or do to make her smile. I liked her smile.
“Why'd the chicken cross the road?” I asked suddenly, peaking over at her out of the side of my eyes. She smiled a little, her eyes softened.
“Because the damn chicken wanted to.”
She started laughing. Her smile lit up her face. I was happy she was happy. I was glad I could make her smile. I laughed with her.

The next day was Sunday. So Annabeth dragged me out of my room at eight to go sightseeing. The entire day - touring Alcatraz and seeing the golden gate bridge and whatnot - we talked and got to know each other and enjoyed the sunny day. We actually acted like friends, and I liked it.
Ever since that night in the hallway when I had kissed her, we seemed to be getting along better. Did she even remember that kiss? What did she think of it? I yearned to ask her but I was afraid it would ruin the friendly mood we had going on. So I shut up and restrained myself.
All day she was next to me, and I found myself admiring her constantly. The way her eyes lit up when she was talking about the construction of the bridge; how her hair curled around her bare shoulders; her long, tan legs; her smile. She didn't try to be beautiful, she just was. I had to clear my throat loudly and mentally slap myself in the face before I could look away.
“What made you so interested in buildings and architecture?” I asked her suddenly. She shot me an annoyed look.
I shortly realized that she had been in the middle of explaining structural supports when I had blurted out my question. She pursed her lips angrily. I felt bad for interrupting her, but oh well. It was too late now.
She deliberated before answering.
“I'm not really sure,” she admitted, looking out at the bridge again. “My mom was an architect, and I used to look at her old sketches when I was little. You know how most kids want to be like their parents when they get older? Well, I wanted to be like my mom, even if I'd never really known her. And so I read a bunch of books on architecture and the rest is history.”
“I never wanted to be like my dad,” I didn't think before I spoke, and suddenly I didn't know what I was saying. “He was never around. He was never there for me. He was a CEO of a big company and didn't have time to be a dad. When I was around fifteen I promised I would do better . . . if I ever have kids that is.”
Annabeth looked at me sadly. Honestly, I couldn't remember if she'd ever told me what happened to her mom or not. Which made me feel kind of guilty. But I brushed it off and told myself I would remember if she had.
“What do you mean 'if'?”
“I mean, if I ever find someone to put up with all my shit,” I joked.
Annabeth pursed her lips at me. “I think you will. You're not that much of an asshole.” she smirked sideways at me.
“Wow,” I laughed, gripping the railing we were standing by. The rail panned out to a view of the golden gate bridge. The sky was bright blue, the water was murky, but still beautiful. “I feel so loved.”
The girl standing next to me laughed a carefree laugh. “I'm sure you'll have kids. You'll be a great dad.”
“I don't even know how to be one though,” my shoulders slumped. I realized with a twinge of sadness that I was twenty-five years old with no girlfriend and only a secretary and a car to keep me company.
“I think it comes naturally, Percy,” she insisted. My heart clenched when she said my name. “When the time comes, you'll do fine.”
“That time isn't coming anytime soon at this rate,” I muttered.
“You're only twenty-five, Percy.”
“My parents were married by the time they were twenty-two,” I pointed out, thinking I had won the argument before it had even begun.
“And look at what happened to them. They ended up divorced and unhappy for years,” Annabeth turned towards me.
I couldn't help but notice how close she was. How I could feel her body heat radiating onto mine; even in the brisk air that was rolling off the bay. Her hair tangled behind her in the wind and I longed to run my fingers through it to keep the knots away. But I didn't.
I didn't want to admit that Annabeth was right. I also didn't want to admit that I had only brought the subject up because I wanted her to bring up the kiss. I briefly contemplated leaning forward and kissing her again, just to see what would happen in the daylight, but I didn't.

The next day, we were scheduled to meet the owner of Bright Lights Inc. over lunch to discuss the terms of the sale. It wasn't my favorite thing to do. In fact, I downright hated it. Business lunches were dull and made me want to knock myself out with a brick to the head.
Annabeth seemed to have a great time though, and she talked smoothly through the deal, charming the CEO and owner with slick skill. As it turned out, Annabeth made the deal even better for us than it was to begin with. I was sure my dad would be ecstatic with her.
I slept most of Wednesday, since our plane wasn't supposed to board until four in the morning the next day, I figured I should catch up on sleep before the early morning flight. It was the only day of the trip I didn't see Annabeth, and although it felt weird and empty, it also felt sort of liberating. It was nice to have a break from our budding friendship.
But when we got to the airport the next morning and found out all flights were canceled for the rest of the week (because of a bomb threat no doubt) I realized that I wasn't going to get a break from her for a very long time.
It wasn't that she annoyed me, it was actually quite the opposite. She made my nerves spike and my stomach feel like it was trying to digest a hoard of butterflies. Every time I looked at her I found myself wanting to brush the hair from her face or press my mouth to her cheek. It was safe to say it was driving me insane.
“What are we supposed to do?” Annabeth whined, throwing her hair back from her face and tying it in a ponytail. “We have to be home by Sunday; all flights are canceled until Monday. We're going to get fired.”
“You're going to get fired,” I amended. “I'm the boss’s son, I don't get fired.”
“Disowned then.”
“My dad won't disown me for missing one day of work. Besides, he said you could take vacation days whenever.”
“But that would mean we both missed an entire week, plus another day. I don't want to push his limits. We have to figure out a way to get home . . . and fast.” Annabeth folded her arms across her chest and looked around the loud airport in despair.
There were hundreds, maybe thousands, of people yelling at the airport employees about the canceled flights. Many of them were in the same boat as us, needing to get home for work.
I had an idea, but I wasn't sure if Annabeth would be up for it. In fact, I wasn't sure I was even up for it. But, if we had to get home. . .
“Are you up for a road trip, Annabeth?” I asked, smirking at her face. She looked genuinely surprised, like she hadn't thought about that option until now. Or maybe she had, she just hadn't thought I would've. I tried not to feel stupid.
“Really? You want to take a two day drive with me? I threw up in your car the last time,” Annabeth pointed out. I had to admit, I was a little weary about being in a moving vehicle with her again. Especially if I was driving. But it looked like this was the only available option.
“I don't have much of a choice, Wise Girl,” I said. “So let's get out of here and go find a car. Shall we?”
Annabeth nodded, turning towards the exit with me. We both wheeled our suitcases out to the curb and waved down a cab to take us to the nearest car lot.
“You know you can't rent a car for this, right?” Annabeth asked. “You won't be able to give it back.”
I scoffed. “What makes you think we're renting a car?”

I ended up buying a big, black Suburban. Annabeth was kind of appalled that I just bought a new car in full just for a two day road trip, but like she pointed out, I couldn't rent one.
The thing about road trips with me, is that I have a very tiny bladder. So I usually have to stop and pee once every ten miles. This pissed Annabeth off so bad, she told me that if I kept drinking I was going to have to pee in a water bottle in the back seat. I argued that I could just pull over and use a tree, but she pointed out that soon we would be driving through the desert.
Turns out, with all the stops I made, we didn't get farther than Baker, Nevada on Thursday. Annabeth was furious with me considering we weren't even half way and the next day would be Friday. But we got some hotel rooms and parted ways for the day. She promised she would be banging on my door at 5 am, ready to go.
It was a mistake to think she had been joking.
I was seriously starting to rethink this whole, 'liking her' situation. I'm not sure I could deal with a morning person. I mean, I can hardly wake up at seven every day for work.
“Up and at 'em, Percy!” she yelled through the door to my room. “I'm going to get breakfast; meet me at the car in fifteen.”
I hardly had enough time to get out of bed, let alone shower. But somehow I forced myself to do it, knowing that Annabeth would probably gouge my eyeballs out with her plastic cereal spoon if I didn't listen.
It ended up being seventeen minutes later that I met her at the car, and the look on her face told me that if I even stopped once to pee that day, I wouldn't make it home alive. So I dutifully held it until we stopped for lunch, and to fill up on gas. It wasn't long before we were in Denver.
“I really hate mountain driving,” I muttered as we weaved through the rocky roads. I was terrified that a mountain goat was going to jump down and land right in front of my car. I was even more terrified I wouldn't be able to stop.
“Stop talking and focus on the road, Seaweed Brain,” Annabeth scolded. “You're going to get us killed.”
“We'll be fine,” I assured her.
Once we got out of the deathly mountains, we encountered two scraggly looking people walking on the side of the road. Much to Annabeth's dismay, I pulled over and rolled the window down.
“Percy!” she hissed. “They could be serial killers! This is dangerous!”
“We'll be fine,” I said again.
They were two collage age kids, with hiking boots and large backpacks slung on their backs. One of them had blond hair, and a scar running down one side of his face from his eyebrow to his cheek. The other was an Asian kid with an eyepatch, which I found strange.
“Hey!” I called out the open window. “Need a lift?”
The blond haired boy turned towards my voice, a startled look on his face. I knew if I was him, I wouldn't trust me. Especially since my hair was un-brushed and I had on an old Yankees shirt. I probably looked homeless.
But then his eyes strayed to Annabeth, and his blue irises lit up. He smiled at her warmly, and Annabeth visibly blushed. My stomach turned.
“Uh, yeah! Sure!” the blonde boy said, opening up the back door and ushering his friend in first.
They settled in the car seats, looking somewhat unsure. I kept driving, trying to think of something to say. Annabeth saved me.
“I'm Annabeth,” she said. “This is Percy.” she motioned towards me. I watched her turn and look at them in the back as they introduced themselves. The blonde one was Luke. The Asian kid was Ethan.
“So . . . what are you two doing out here?” Annabeth asked politely.
Ethan answered first, but Luke smacked his arm when he said, “Searching for Aliens.”
“No we're not, you imbecile!” Luke shouted at his friend. Then he turned back towards Annabeth and smiled sweetly. “We're doing scientific research. Probably nothing you would be interested in.”
“Oh, Annabeth loves scientific research!” I said helpfully, smirking to myself. “Isn't that right, Annabeth? I'm sure she would love to know more.” I couldn't help but notice the jealous twinge in my own voice. If this guy Luke would stop looking at her like that-
“He's right. I'm a math and science sort of person,” Annabeth smiled at the two boys.
“Well, I guess we could tell you. . .” Luke trailed off, looking to Ethan for help.
I figured he didn't want to look stupid in front of a pretty girl. But he had already lost that fight when Ethan had blurted out that they were 'searching for Aliens'. They already sounded like wackos. Anything they said to deny it was just going to make it worse.
Luke scrambled for an answer, stuttering out something about a rare species of rock. I looked at Annabeth out of the corner of my eye. She was biting her lip to keep from laughing, although nodding her head in understanding. Probably to build up his ego a little bit.
“That's so interesting,” she said softly.
Luke and Ethan both nodded excitedly. I rolled my eyes and coughed, “Losers,” into my sleeve.
Annabeth shot me an amused look, but the two boys didn't seem to notice.
“We're sophomores at the University of Missouri-Kansas City. We were up hiking for the week. It was a class project.” Ethan told us.
“But there's only two of you,” I pointed out.
“The rest of the class got abducted by Aliens,” Ethan said factually.
I stifled my laughter in my arm, and Annabeth cocked her head at him. Luke looked panicked. “He's only joking. We're the only two people in the class. Actually, it's more of a club than anything. The uh. . . Rare Rocks Club. R.R.C!” Luke talked so fast, his eyes fluttering everywhere, I could tell he was lying. These two wackos were studying Aliens in the mountains; not freaking rare rock species. Where there even species of rocks? Weren't they called something more scientific? I sure hoped they were, otherwise I was pretty stupid.
“What about you guys?” Luke asked, tugging at his collar. “Where do you two go to school?”
“I graduated from Fordham University three years ago,” Annabeth said.
“I went to New York University for three years. . .”
“You never finished?” Luke asked, appalled, but smirking.
“Nah. Instead I took the position of CEO at my dad’s company – Earth Shaker Inc.” I said, biting back a smile.
“Oh. . .” Luke's face fell. Ethan looked interested.
“That's so awesome! Do you work there too, Annabeth?” Ethan asked.
“Uh, yeah. We're Co-CEO's of the company.” she answered.
“Isn't Earth Shaker Inc.'s headquarters in New York? What're you guys doing out in Denver?” Luke asked smugly.
I was about ready to punch this guy in the throat. I couldn't wait to throw them back into their college dorm – which most likely smelled like testosterone and fried chicken.
“Business trip. All the flights out of San Fran got canceled so. . .” I started.
“Road trip!” Annabeth finished. I smiled to myself at her obviously fake enthusiasm.
The four of us made polite conversation the rest of the way to their campus. The entire time, my temper was hanging by a string since Luke was so obviously flirting with Annabeth. I was really close to throwing him off a damn mountain.
Ethan didn't seem nearly as bad. He was honest about what they were doing, although weird. He was nice. Plus he seemed oblivious to the fact that Annabeth – the only female in the car – was absolutely gorgeous. That made me like him a lot better.
When I finally dropped them off at the university, I sighed happily, then scrunched my nose as I watched them walk to their dorms. Luke looked back and winked at Annabeth; she blushed.
“Bleh,” I mock-gagged. “My new car smells like testosterone.”
Annabeth laughed hard. “Oh shut up, Seaweed Brain. With you in the car, it was bound to happen eventually.”
“Yeah, right.” I scoffed. I pursed my lips and settled my eyes on the road. I wanted to get out of Kansas quick. There could be a tornado at any minute. I voiced this concern, and Annabeth hit my shoulder and told me to stop watching Wizard of Oz.
“I say, we shoot for St. Louis.” Annabeth said around ten o'clock. I looked at her like she was a crazy person.
“Excuse me? We're just getting into Missouri now. It'll take us all night to get to St. Louis.” I reasoned.
“Don't you want to get home faster? We can make it the rest of the way tomorrow if we can get to the arch tonight.”
“Annabeth,” I said. “That's a lot of driving. And you don't have a valid license. I think I should get to decide.”
“Get some coffee.” she snapped.
“It's not that simple.”
“Yes it is, Percy.”
“No it's not, Annabeth.”
“Why are you so difficult?”
“Human beings need sleep, Annabeth!”
“Ugh! I just want to get home.”
“Now I see why you don't have a boyfriend; you're so demanding.”
I probably should've thought before I said that. The car became deathly quiet; I could hear my heart beat. Annabeth turned towards the window and crossed her arms.
“Whatever, Percy. Go ahead and stop for the night. I don't give a damn,” she said to the window.
Suddenly, stopping for the night and winning the argument didn't seem all so great. I wanted to keep driving all the way to St. Louis, but I knew by the way my eyes stung that I needed sleep. I pulled off the highway at the next exit and stopped at the first hotel I saw. I bought two rooms, but Annabeth didn't move from the car. I sighed and rubbed my eyes as I stalked to my room.
From the window, I had a view of the car. Since it was black, I couldn't really see it in the dark, but I could make out Annabeth, reclining her seat and settling in on her side.
Guilt filled my throat; I felt like throwing up. I hadn't meant it. Not at all. But Annabeth and I probably wouldn't talk for a week or two. That thought hit me like a ton of bricks. I was reminded of earlier in the day when Luke had been hitting on her, how angry about it I was. There was a part of me that knew exactly what it was I felt for Annabeth. The other part of me didn't want to know. I wanted to wrap it up and throw it out the window because that was not something I need right now.

In order to try and get on Annabeth's good side, I woke up at five and skipped breakfast so we could try and make it home by the end on the day. I bought her coffee and a scone from Starbucks, which she thanked me for quietly and nibbled on for over an hour. I tried making a few jokes, but they were halfhearted and lame. She didn't smile.
It wasn't until we were in the drive-through for lunch that she chose to speak.
“Is that really why I don't have a boyfriend?” she asked softly. Her brows were knotted together in either concentration or worry – I couldn't tell.
I sighed and turned towards her. I was waiting for the woman to hand me back my change, but she was taking forever to count it all out.
“Annabeth,” I said, wanting to put my hand on hers. I didn't. “You know I didn't mean that last night, I was tired and upset and done driving. I'm sorry.”
“Don't be sorry, Percy. I realize you're right. I'm-” Annabeth looked at the floor, refusing to meet my eyes.
“Don't be stupid,” I said. “You're gorgeous and intelligent and funny-”
“And demanding.” she added.
“No,” I told her. “Any guy would be lucky to date you.”
“Aww,” I heard from behind me. “You guys are so cute, you're going to make me cry.” the woman working the window handed me my change, winking at me with a smirk. I drove forward to wait for our food.
“Would you?” she asked innocently, finally looking at me. When I realized what she was saying, I searched her eyes. For something, anything that told me she felt for me what I felt for her. There was nothing but curiosity.
“Pfft. No. You're my co-worker. And after everything, I'm not even sure I could force myself to like you like that.” I pushed the words from my throat, regretting them almost instantly.
Annabeth pursed her lips. Her face didn't fall, but she looked like she was thinking very intently. I should take that back, I thought. I should lean over right this second and kiss her.
Oh my god, dread filled my chest as I realized. . . I had kissed her. That night in the hallway, a week or two ago. I had kissed her then, and now I had just gone and told her that I could never even force myself to feel for her because of everything we'd put each other through. I almost killed her two times! There was no way she had feelings for me anyways. We might have been getting along relatively better, but that didn't change what had already happened. That didn't change the fact that months ago, we had stared out hating each other.
We got our food, then I got us back on the highway. Speeding towards New York.

Luckily, we talked the entire way back to New York. Once it got late though, I ceased our riveting conversation about dangerous sea creatures and turned on some alternative rock music to help keep me awake. At the rate we were going, we should get to the apartments around two in the morning. I could deal with that.
I had to admit, the road trip with Annabeth had been fun. Except for the one fight we got in, but that was beside the point. I wasn't sure if normal co-workers went on road trips together, but I could guess that the answer was a resounding no.
She seemed to like my music though, which was a relief. I thought she was going to make me change the channel to a pop station – I shivered in terror at the thought. Actually, Annabeth seemed to know some of the bands. She even admitted to going to one of their concerts with a friend in High School. But then she started talking about this friend of hers and I immediately sensed he had been more than that. I ignored the jealousy in my chest.
I not only ignored it, I forced it away. I had no right or reason to be jealous. Okay, yeah, so maybe I liked her a little bit, but she obviously didn't return the 'like'. So there was no reason to even let myself be jealous. But of course, I was fighting an uphill battle and I eventually lost. I let myself be jealous.
When she spoke, she moved her hands around a lot, and so her hair fell out of her hair-tie a bit more with each word from all the movement. I desperately wanted to brush it behind her ear so I could see her face better, but I didn't.
It felt like everything I wanted to do lately, I ended up backing up and not doing it. I kept missing out on opportunities to tell her the actual truth about how I felt about her. Not the fake truth like I had given her earlier in the day, the real truth. I was so damn stupid.
It didn't feel like long until I was pulling my new car into the parking garage and unloading our suitcases from the trunk. Jake was going to be confused when he got here on Monday to find a Suburban in his usual parking spot. I would have to text him about it tomorrow.
Tony, half asleep and downing coffee, was pretty surprised to see us, but he opened the elevator for us and we began the awkward descent to the top floor. Annabeth reached back and let her hair out of its ponytail, running her hands through the long, curly stands of gold.
We were standing in the hallway then, both of us turned away from our respective apartments. Her eyes gleamed gray in the bad lighting of the landing; her hair was a little tangled from not brushing it over the course of our long road trip, but it wasn't dirty. Her fingers played with the rubber band on her wrist. I wondered if she was thinking about what I had said earlier in the car.
“Don't be stupid. You're gorgeous and intelligent and funny. Any guy would be lucky to date you.” I remembered with perfect clarity what she said next.
“Would you?”
“Pfft. No. You're my co-worker. And after everything, I'm not even sure I could force myself to like you like that.”

It had been a stupid, stupid, stupid thing to say. It had been a lie. I was an idiot and now Annabeth was standing in front of me, staring at her hands as she wrung them until they turned white. I subconsciously took a step towards her.
“Annabeth?” I said carefully, biting my tongue. I couldn't do this. This wasn't okay. We worked together. My dad was going to kill me, and fire her if I did this. I tried to convince myself not to say it, not to do what I was about to do. But I couldn't make myself care enough.
“Yes?” she didn't look at me. She kept her eyes glued to the ground.
Where was I going with this? Should I apologize? Should I tell her I had fun? Should I just kiss her? What was the right way to approach this situation? I searched my brain for something, anything that would be helpful. Nothing.
“I- I didn't mean what I said today,” I cleared my throat and gulped. “About . . . uh- about not being able to force myself to like you.”
“What do you mean?” Annabeth scrunched her eyebrows, finally looking at me.
“I mean. . .” my breath hitched. “This is stupid. I'm being stupid. I'm just-”
Before I could finish, both of us were stepping towards each other, reaching out. My hands went to her waist, and hers went to my face. I leaned my head down ever so slightly and pressed my mouth to hers.
It was almost like when you put Mentos into a coke bottle and then close the lid. All the pressure builds up, getting harder and harder until finally, you take the top off and the candy and soda explode together into one huge mess. It was like fireworks were going off. Like a volcano was erupting. Like the planet was exploding. I pushed her against the door.
Her lips were hard on mine as I sucked and prodded my way into her mouth. She tasted of strawberries and carbonated water. She weaved her fingers into my hair and pulled my face down on hers. I pressed my body against her. One hand gripped her waist, the other moved up slowly to cup her neck. I slid her hair behind her and traced circles on her throat with my thumb.
She maneuvered her body, bending slowly and manipulating me without my knowing, so she was standing in between my legs. Hands raked down my chest, toying with the fabric of my shirt. Her fingers knotted in it, tugging on it playfully. She put her hands on my hips, pulling me closer to her. Her hipbones rolled on mine.
Her mouth was still sliding on mine with ease, like a choreographed dance we'd long been practicing. But she cringed away from the hand that was holding onto her waist. I realized that I'd been trying so hard not to get ahead of myself, I'd been unintentionally hurting her by releasing the tension onto her. I tried to mumble a 'sorry' against her mouth as I moved my hands up to rest on the door at either side of her head. But it sounded more like a moan-type thing.
My lips trailed from her mouth, to her jaw, neck, collarbone, and back up again. I kissed her throat softly, feeling her thudding pulse under my mouth. I brushed my lips over her jaw, and looked up to meet her eyes. They were bright and intense, staring intently at me. Her gaze wasn't hard and accusing, but rather soft and full of admiration. I willed my eyes to look the same.
She moved her hand from my hip to the door handle at her waist and turned it slowly, not moving her eyes from mine. She backed up, pulling me – still pressed neatly against her – with her. She closed the door with her foot as she spun around and pinned me on the wall, her arm over my chest.
“This is never going to work,” she breathed. “We can't be together.”
“We-” I tried to speak, but her mouth was slowly inching towards mine again.
“Talk later,” she mumbled. “Just kiss me.”
I obeyed.
It was my turn to play with her hair. Finally, for the first time I could tangle my fingers in her curls, letting them fall down her back like a waterfall. I could wrap a lock around my finger and curl it behind her ear as my thumb brushed under her cheekbone. I could hold her waist and feel the tips of her hair brush against my arms. I could knot my hands into it and pull her close, and closer still. I could do what I'd wanted to do for weeks.
While I played with her hair, brushing it back from her face and sighing into her mouth, she let her hands roam free. They explored my chest, her fingernails scratching the fabric. Then her hands were on my hips again, but this time she was reaching her hands up and under my shirt, feeling the muscle of my abdomen. Her fingers crept up my back and her nails dug into the back of my neck. I didn't feel a thing.
I bit her bottom lip on accident, but she apparently liked it. We were thrown into a battle of lips, tongue, teeth, and breath as both of us tried to get closer. How could we get closer? We were already as close as two people could be. Her body was pressed on mine, so close I could feel her heartbeat in her chest. Or was that mine? I couldn't tell. Both of them were so out of control.
My hands shook as I moved them from her hair to her hips, locking her in my grasp. I was tired of being the one leaning on the wall. I spun us around so fast, I'm not sure Annabeth even realized what had happened until it was too late for her to change it. But somehow she found a way.
She pulled back from my mouth, and in my surprise, she pushed her hands against my chest. I was so taken aback I stumbled, landing on the wooden floor on my butt. Annabeth laughed as she twisted her limbs around me, pushing me down on the floor when I tried to get up.
She was straddling my hips, her feet brushing my thighs. Her hands were roaming over my arms, until she got to my hands. She knotted her fingers through mine as her mouth brushed teasingly over my lips. And god, did it feel so damn right just to hold her hand. In the simplest, most innocent way possible, it felt so good to hold her hand. And ours fit so well together.
I hated how she teased me. She pecked my mouth with hers, but as soon as I leaned up to deepen the kiss, she pulled away and smirked. She ran her tongue of my bottom lip swiftly, and I moaned into her neck.
“Annabeth,” I whined, sounding like a child even in my own ears. “Stop being such a tease.”
She laughed as she finally let her mouth settle into mine.
We kissed for a while like that, my hands breaking free of hers and sliding up and down her torso with ease. She cupped my neck in her hands and sat up, making sure my lips never stopped touching hers. Once we were sitting – my hands firmly holding her hips to my chest – she put her hands under she shirt again and made a movement that said only one thing: off.
I didn't want to stop kissing her, but I pulled away for a moment and tugged my shirt off. Or at least I tried to. It got stuck on my head, and suddenly I was flailing around, trying to get the damn shirt off my head.
“Dammit,” I mumbled, pulling the shirt hard. It finally came unstuck from my hair, and I could tell it probably looked like a rats nest.
But then Annabeth was kissing me again, laughing against my lips. I threw the shirt across the room and out my hands back on her hips.
Now that my shirt was off, Annabeth's fingers slid easily over my bare chest. I wasn't a buff bodybuilder, but I could admit that going to the gym three times a week paid off.
I put a hand on her face, tugging on her hair and brushing her cheek with my fingers simultaneously.
“Percy,” Annabeth pulled back for a second and looked at me. “We have to-”
I wasn't ready to talk about this. I wanted to keep on as we were. So I leaned forward and smashed my mouth to hers before she could finish her sentence.
I rolled to my side and laid her on the ground. I put myself on top of her, holding my weight up with my elbows on either side of her head. I kissed her slowly, letting her wrap her arms around my abdomen and pull me closer.
I wanted to laugh. We had started out in the hallway, and now I was on top of her. On the floor. Kissing her. I realized I was finally kissing Annabeth. Although, I also realized it been quite a while since we started kissing. I should've realized this earlier.
I pulled back to look at her. Her eyes were silver in the dark of the apartment. Her lips were swollen and chapped, but she was still so beautiful. The window on the other side of the room had its curtains drawn, the moonlight drenched her face.
“Annabeth?” I dragged my thumb over her bottom lip. She closed her eyes and leaned into me.
She reached up and put her hands on my face. Her thumb brushed from under my eye to my jawline – where a small line of stubble had popped up over the last week from forgetting my razor. Her other hand touched my nose, chin, and eyelids, memorizing my face with her hands. I closed my eyes, shutting out m picture of her, leaning into her soft touch.
Really, I wanted to kiss her again. The feeling of her lips on mine had made me realize that I wanted her more than I thought I did. But I didn't just want her in a lusting way, I wanted her completely. I wanted her standing next to me, our hands intertwined, laughing. I wanted her to hold me and to smile at me and to punch my shoulder every time I do something stupid. I wanted her blonde hair and stormy gray eyes to be mine. I wanted to recite to her stupid poems I found on the internet and pass them off as mine. I wanted her. Completely.
But I couldn't tell her that. She was right. We couldn't be together. We worked together, and that was one of my father’s more definite rules. No fraternizing with fellow employees in any romantic way. My dad would fire her, and disown me if he found out. But it's not like we could just have a secret relationship. I wanted to hold her hand in public and kiss her cheek on the street. We would never work. I was going to have to let her go and try to forget about everything.
“Percy,” she whispered. Her voice was rough and scratchy. She cleared her throat.
I opened my eyes to look at her. God, she was so beautiful. I licked my lips. I couldn't kiss her right now, we had to talk.
“This can't happen,” she said.
I sighed, keeping my eyes on hers. “I know.”
“I'll get fired. You'll get fired. We'll both be out of a job and what good is that?”
“I know.”
“We have to just continue being friends. No one can know about this. We can't know about this. This never happened.”
“I know.”
I rolled off of her and laid next to her on the hard ground.
“Is that all you know how to say, Seaweed Brain?” Annabeth spit, nudging me with her elbow.
“I'm not sure what else I'll be able to say. . .” I trailed off, biting my lip. I clenched my fists at my sides.
“What-”
I turned on my side so I was facing her, bracing myself.
“I have feelings for you, Annabeth. Feelings that won't be easily bottled up.”
She pursed her lips. I didn't like it when she did that. It made her laugh lines go away. It made her look not only older, but sadder. I wanted to kiss her again. But I didn't.
“And I know that was probably the worst thing to say right now, I just-”
Annabeth, ignoring my words, rolled over and sat up, straightening her shirt.
“Just try to forget, okay? This job is important to me and I don't want to lose it. I just want to be friends,” she said. She didn't look at me at all. I felt my heart sink.
“Okay,” I agreed, pushing myself up from the floor.
I crossed the room to where my shirt was balled up in the corner. Pulling it over my head, I sighed and stuffed my hands in my pockets before taking one more look at Annabeth. She was still sitting on the floor, her back to me. I didn't want to leave.
But this time, I did.

I ran my hands through my hair in desperation once I realized I had no idea where my key was. I was forced to sit and stare at Annabeth's door while waiting for Fred to come up with the new copy. I tried to do what she said. I tried to forget. But my stomach rolled and my heart hurt when I tried to push the thought from my mind.
What I felt for her wasn't just attraction. Sure, she was gorgeous, but she was also smart and intelligent and just plain beautiful inside and out. I longed for her to slip out of her apartment and sit next to me; making a joke about my lost key. But she didn't.
When Fred finally arrived at my door, he welcomed me back gracefully. I was surprised he was still working, considering it had to be around three in the morning on Sunday. He smiled and unlocked the door for me, placing the key under the potted plant in the corner. He asked if Annabeth made it back okay, and my stomach lurched, but I plastered on an indifferent face and told him, “Yeah, yeah she already went to bed.”

I didn't sleep. Instead, I made a pot of coffee and sat on the couch, staring at the blank TV until it was late enough to drive to my mother's apartment – on the other side of the city. In the early hours of Sunday morning, nobody in their right mind was out on the streets. So I had a fairly easy and quick drive to her and my step-dads house.
I dragged myself up the stairs to the fourth floor, since her building had no such thing as an elevator. She would probably be worried that I was there, considering I rarely visited her these days. The last time I had talked to her was early Thursday morning before Annabeth and I got on the road. I pushed the thought of her out of my head and focused on the task at hand.
I knocked tentatively on her door, half-expecting her to still be asleep. The door opened not long after, and my mother – dressed in her pjs with her hair tied back – grabbed me for a hug.
“What are you doing here, hon? Did you just get back? Is Annabeth with you?” She asked a string of questions in a short amount of time as she pulled me into the house, letting the door click shut behind me.
Before I had the chance to answer any of her first questions, she asked if I had eaten breakfast. My stomach growled in reply.
To my excitement, Paul was in the small kitchen off of the living room cooking bacon and eggs. He smiled at me warmly as I sat at the kitchen table.
“We got home last night,” I answered. “Annabeth is at her house; I just wanted to talk.”
“About what?” my mother pressed.
I looked up at where she was standing by Paul, placing two pieces of bread in the old toaster. I bought her that toaster for her birthday ten years ago. Whoa, ten years? It seemed like yesterday. A feeling almost like nostalgia settled over me. I felt like how I had felt by the golden gate bridge with Annabeth. I'm twenty-five years old, my life is a mess, and I can't even be with the girl I want to be with. I laughed internally. Yeah, like Annabeth said, I was only twenty-five. But soon I would be thirty, and then forty, and then I would be retired and I would have to live with the fact that I had accomplished nothing in my entire life. I would have no wife, no kids, and no more mom to go to. My best friend was getting married soon, my parents were getting older, and I knew for a fact my mother was expecting grandchildren – whether they were biological or adopted she probably didn't care, but I knew she wanted at least something from her only child.
Was I having a mid-life crisis in my twenties, I wondered? Is this what that felt like? I shuddered at the thought that I was old enough to feel like this. My heart clenched. I pursed my lips at my mother.
“Annabeth,” I answered finally.
Sally bit her lip to hide her smile. Like she knew what was coming. I was sure she did. She always knew what I was thinking before I did. She always knew what I was feeling before I could figure it out myself. She always knew. She was my mother, and mothers know best. Maybe that's why I had made a split decision this morning to come here. She would know what to do.
She put the toast on a plate and set it in front of me as she took the chair opposite of me. She folded her hands on the table. I didn't touch my toast.
“What about her?” her voice had an air of amusement in it. She definitely knew what was coming.
My mouth opened and closed like a fish. I couldn't seem to get anything other than distressed croaks out of my voice box. It wasn't helping my case.
“I kissed her,” I pushed the words out of my mouth with difficulty. The same mouth that had been drowning in Annabeth's lips only a few hours ago. I knew what we had done, but saying it out loud was an entirely different story. I felt like hiding in a cave with the excited look my mother gave me.
“I knew it!” Paul exclaimed from the stove. “I knew you liked her.” he smirked in my direction.
My mother turned in her chair and shooed him, telling him not to be such a child. But she was giggling as she said it. Paul winked at me and left the room. She turned back towards me.
“And?”
And what? What was I supposed to tell her? And we started making out on the floor of her entryway? And I was pretty sure I was falling into a hole that I didn't know how to get out of? And I couldn't be with her? And she was ruining my life? What did I say?
“And. . .” I breathed deeply. “Dad has this rule that employees can't have romantic relationships with each other because it screws up the business aspect of the workplace. So no matter how much I like her nothing can ever happen because we work together and dad will fire her and disown me and I'm not really sure what to do here because. . . because. . Ugh.”
I was rambling, but I didn't really care. I let my head fall into my hands. I griped at my hair, wanting to pull it out of my head. Maybe I should. Maybe the pain and blood will distract me from the sad ache in my chest.
“Because what, sweetie?”
I knew what my mom was trying to do. I was smart enough to know that. She was attempting to get me to tell her that I was in love with Annabeth. Well, I wasn't going to tell her that for two reasons. 1) It wasn't true. I've been in love before and it was not like this. I'm not in love with Annabeth. What we have is a very complicated, messy, liking. A crush, if you want to call it that. I felt like my crush had just told me they thought I was revolting. Yeah.
2) Even if it was true, I probably wouldn't tell my mother anyways. Yeah, I've always been close to my mom. I tell her most things. But if I was in love with someone, it wasn't something I wanted to share with the woman that raised me. It was something personal and private that she could only guess about – she didn't need to be told flat out.
“Because I've only really ever liked one other girl in my entire life-”
“That's not true. There was Rachel in seventh grade.” my mom pointed out, interrupting me.
I scowled at her. “As I was saying. . . I've only really been in a relationship with one other girl and it was so easy with her. It was so easy to be. . .” I grasped for the right words to describe my old high school love.
“In love with her?” Sally offered.
I sighed. “Yeah.”
“Well, honey,” my mother advised. “Every relationship is different. Every time you . . . like someone, it's going to be different. So yes, maybe being with-”
“Don't say her name, please.” I asked quietly. She nodded and continued.
“Maybe being with other people will be easier than being with Annabeth. Maybe that's why every solution seems unreachable. Relationships take work; maybe that's why you've never been able to keep a steady one. It's been too easy. You know something is good and real when it's hard, Percy. Remember that.”
I smiled widely at my mother.
“I knew there was a reason I found myself at your doorstep this morning,” I said.

After spending the morning with my parents, I called Grover on my way home to invite him and Juniper over for dinner. They accepted and I made a detour to the grocery store to find something to cook before heading home.
Now, I wasn't the best cook. But I could make simple things like spaghetti or meatloaf. So I decided on the former and started on the enjoyable process of cooking. While the water for the pasta was boiling, I took a trip downstairs to get my mail from Tony. This. This was my fatal mistake.
I was already on edge from seeing Annabeth's door as soon as I walked out of my apartment. But why, oh good Lord in Heaven, did she have to be standing in the lobby, getting her freakin' mail from Tony?
I'm not going to lie. I contemplated pushing the up button and going right back up to my house. Screw the mail. I didn't need magazines and bills. And that letter from my Grandma probably wasn't going anywhere soon. Even though Grandma might.
But I couldn't be a coward about this. So I took a deep breath and pushed myself out into the lobby. I about died when she turned around from Tony to go to the elevator, but instead bumped right into me. The force of her body connecting with mine made visions of the previous night flutter behind my eyelids.
She fell backwards, landing on the floor with a huff. She looked up at me to glare, but he scowl quickly turned to shock when she saw it was me. Her coloring didn't change, so either she was really good at controlling her blush, or she didn't feel embarrassed about our actions.
Instinctively, I held out my hand to help her up. But right as she moved to take it, I realized that I didn't want to touch her at all. I was afraid that if I touched her hand, if I held it as I helped her up, I wouldn't want to let go. Annabeth seemed appalled that I had just taken my hand back, but at the same time she seemed to understand what I was thinking. She nodded a little, then helped herself up.
She walked away without another word. I got my mail from Tony. I took the stairs back up.

The water was boiling when I got back to my apartment. I shouldered my way into the kitchen and dumped the bag of pasta in the pot not-so-carefully. I had half expected to see Annabeth waiting at her door for me, and when she hadn't been, when the door had been closed, everything had felt so final, so agonizingly final. Annabeth and I were over before we'd even had a chance to begin. That's what was so damn painful.
I was glad for the distraction when Grover and his fiancé, Juniper, arrived. I had never truly met her in person, but I had seen her before. The night they met, I had been the one to point out Juniper to Grover. Watching them with each other, it was almost like they were made for each other. Which, maybe they were.
“Did you make this yourself, Percy?” Juniper asked sweetly. She was twirling pasta on her fork, about to take a bite of it.
“I did,” I smiled. “I hope it doesn't taste too bad.”
“It tastes great, man. I'm just worried about what it'll taste like later. . .” Grover said.
I bit my lip to hide my laugh, but it didn't work. Burying my head in my hands, I laughed so hard I snorted. Juniper looked at her fiancé in disgust. Like, did you really just say that?
“That was uncalled for,” Juniper pursed her lips as she chewed another bite of noodles.
“That was bad, dude,” I agreed, stabbing at a meatball with my fork.
“I hope the wedding's not off. . .” Grover blushed, looking down at his plate ashamedly.
Juniper scoffed. “Like one disgusting joke is going to make me break up with you.”
“Hah!” I chuckled. “If you think it's just one, you're in for a rude awaking.”
Juniper leaned forward on the table, smoothing her napkin out on her lap. “Tell me more, Percy.”
Disregarding Grover's panicked face and the 'I'm going to cut your throat' motions he was making towards me, I launched into a story about high school.
Once in freshman year, the entire ninth grade class took a weekend-long field trip to Mammoth Caves. Innocent little fifteen year old Grover was listen intently to the tour guide as she explained the very long, deep, crack in the ceiling. “I've seen a bigger crack than that. . .” Grover had muttered, unthinking. “In my butt.”
A hundred adolescent laughs echoed through the cold, damp cave as the weight of what Grover had just said settled in the crowd. The appalled teachers hushed the class and scolded Grover for being so rude. He was forced to not only apologize to the tour guide, but buy her a soda with the last of his money. Little Grover's parents were so disappointed in their son, they sent him to military camp for the summer, hoping he would learn how to be respectful and considerate.
“Obviously,” I finished. “It didn't work. Since he's still making the butt jokes ten years later.”
“Hey!” Grover whined. “I thought we agreed to never tell anyone about that!”
“No, no, Grover,” I told him. “You're thinking of 'The Eighth Grade Incident'. That was completely different.” I turned towards Juniper. “That one was really bad. Maybe I'll tell you one day when Grover's not around.”
“Hey!” Grover exclaimed again, clamping a hand over my mouth.
Juniper was having a laughing fit. “Anything else I should know about him before I marry him?” she asked seriously.
“He loves horror movies,” I told her honestly.
“Oh my,” she held her heart. “At least I'll have someone to hold me when I get scared.” she turned and winked at my best friend.
I leaned away from the table as Juniper put her arm around Grover, kissing him on the cheek. Grover turned bright red. I blew the air out of my mouth.
“I think that's our queue to leave. . .” Grover mumbled.
They thanked me multiple times before they left. As I watched them walk out the door, I couldn't help that my eyes stopped at Annabeth's door for a second too long. I shook my head and locked the door, retreating to my room for a shower.

I tried to scrub the feelings away. I tried to wash her touch away from my body. But the longer I scrubbed at myself with soap, the more her fingerprints seemed to burn into my skin. Finally, exhausted from scrubbing my skin so hard, I leaned on the shower wall and let the hot water drip down my back. My hair hung in my eyes, and I blinked away the water. I wasn't sure if it was water from the shower or tears.
Everything seemed to be getting more complicated by the minute. And as I fell asleep to the sound of the TV, I braced myself for more complications.
Boy, I had no idea.

I woke up earlier than I had wanted to. The sun was just coming up when I pulled myself out of bed to scavenge for food. I watched the sun rise over my bowl of cereal, trying to flatten the bed head from my restless night’s sleep. I dressed mechanically, being extra slow since I had extra time.
I settled into the couch at a quarter to eight, thinking I had time to watch the news – which I was appalled at myself for. Who was I? Grandpa? - But as soon as I sat down, there was a knock at the door.
I didn't even think about who it could be, and jumped up happily to answer it.
Just. My. Luck.
“Annabeth,” I said, startled that she was at my doorstep. “What are-?”
“You're still giving me a ride, Seaweed Brain,” she reminded me. “Friends remember?”
I looked her over briefly. She was dressed in jeans, with a collared shirt and a gray cardigan. Her pant legs were straight, and rolled up to reveal short, black, heeled, boots. Her hair was pulled back in a long ponytail, but strands of curls still hung out around her face. Her lips – which were pinker than usual - were pressed into a firm line; her eyes were pretty, but hard. It was like she had put up this brick wall between us, and no amount of playful banter was ever going to knock it down again.
But then I had a thought . . . what if I quit? What if I quit and gave her the company? Would she change her mind? Would she give us a shot? But then. . She'd never told me she had feelings for me. Yeah, we had kissed. Big deal. I told her that I had feelings for her and her response was that we had to forget about what happened the other night. Even if I did quit; even if I gave up my spot as CEO for her. None of it would matter if she didn't have feelings for me. I pushed the entire thought of her out of my mind.
“Yeah,” I said, plastering a smile on my face before I walked out into the big, wide, world full of disappointments and heartbreak. “Friends.”
We settled into a partly normal routine. Jake drove us to work. We worked. We had lunch. We worked some more. Jake drove us home. We went to our separate apartments. Sleep. Get up and do it all over again. It continued this way for weeks. Day in and day out. Every morning I told myself I had to get through one more day . . . just one more. And every night I braced myself for another one.
My mother asked if I wanted to invite Annabeth to our annual Labor Day family picnic – all my cousins and aunts and uncles would be there. . Even my dad was making an appearance – but I told her, “No, things are just starting to feel normal again. I don't want to mess it up.” But it was a lie. Things weren't starting to feel normal. Things were never going to feel normal. I left normal behind in San Francisco. It abandoned me as soon as my mouth had touched Annabeth's that night.
Nothing was normal, but everything was okay. It started changing again a week after Labor Day.
It was a Friday, and Annabeth was late getting back from her lunch break. I really wanted to just get all the paperwork we needed to close the sale on Bright Light Inc. done so I could go home and sleep. But Annabeth was a half hour late, so my mood was slowly spiraling downwards.
I asked Kate to call her, since I still refused to put her number in my phone. (I was afraid I would call or text her subconsciously or something. . . I don't know. I just didn't want to have access to her 24/7). But she didn't answer the phone.
“Just sit tight, Mr. Jackson,” she said in the soothing voice she used when I was on edge or having panic attacks. “I'm sure she'll get here soon.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, pacing the hallway. “Yeah, I'm sure she will.”
It wasn't until after I had to walk Katie Gardner through how to work the copying machine that Annabeth finally showed up. To be honest, I was starting to get worried that she had been in a car accident or something. Then I started thinking. . What if she had been? She didn't have my number in her phone. She had no meaningful relationship with me other than the fact we were peers. I would be one of the last people to know if she was hurt in some way when I wasn't with her. I didn't think I could take that.
“Are you busy tomorrow night?” Annabeth asked as we worked on signing the last few documents to send over to Bright Lights.
A rock settled in my stomach. Why was she asking me if I was busy? Did she want to talk? Did she want to go out? It had been weeks since what I was now referring to as, “The Second Incident” and neither of us had said a word about it to anyone. Well, except for my mother of course, but I hadn't told her how heated it had gotten. How we had ended up on the floor, my hands on either side of her head, holding myself just far enough above her so I wouldn't crush her, but I could still feel her body pressed to me.
I gulped, longing to hold her hand again. To touch her hair. To brush my lips on her cheek. Dammit, Percy, I thought. Give it up already. I hadn't thought about The Second Incident in days, and now all of the sudden I felt like I might explode from all the tension in the room. Had that tension always been there? Did she feel it too? Hell, I could cut it with a knife.
“Uh. . . Other than sitting alone watching pay-per-view, no I don't think so.” I admitted, feeling lame even as I said it.
“Great,” Annabeth said, not looking up as she scribbled her name on the paper. “My friend, Piper, needs a babysitter for date night. I recommended you. Would you be up for it?”
Well that sure as hell wasn't what I had been expecting.
“Uh. . .” I stuttered. “Annabeth, I told you. I won't make a very good dad cause-”
“I know. Your dad wasn't around. But Percy, I really think you would do great. Don't you like kids?” Annabeth said. I was slightly thrilled she remembered what I had said about my dad. But I reigned myself in before I could get too excited. Anyone would remember that.
“Sure I do.”
“I know you don't think you have a paternal bone in your body, but I really do think you can do this, Percy.”
I sighed angrily, pushing my hair out from my eyes. I was going to regret this. “How old are they?”
“Ten months and two years.” Annabeth replied.
“Ugh. Can I bring a friend?”
“You won't need to. You'll be fine.” she insisted.
I thought for a moment, debating whether or not I should make last minute plans with Katie Gardner just for something to do. But this was Annabeth's friend. And Annabeth was also my friend. So, in a way, Piper was my friend too. Right? No, that made no sense. Whatever.
“Sure,” I relented. “They're just kids right? They can't be that bad.”
That right there was the dumbest thing I've ever said.

Twenty-six hours later I found myself in the middle of a kitchen, watching a two year old boy run around the house throwing ripped up pieces of toilet paper everywhere. I was pretty close to breaking down in tears. The kid wouldn't listen to me. My head shot up when I heard the sound of a baby crying from upstairs. Following the directions Piper had so kindly drilled into my head, I rushed up the stairs, praying the baby just needed a diaper change.
Carter Grace was probably the cutest baby I'd ever seen. He had soft blonde hair and bright, baby blue eyes. He was supposed to be sleeping, since it was already seven o'clock and past his bedtime. In fact, his older brother, Anthony, was supposed to be asleep also. But since I couldn't get him to stop throwing T.P. Confetti all over the house, I had since given up on putting him to bed before his parents returned.
I picked Carter up out of his crib, changed his diaper for the third time – just to be safe – and then rocked him back to sleep. I didn't dare sing, for fear of him crying even harder. But as I rocked him back and forth on my shoulder, I felt like I was five years older and married. I put the baby back in his crib and closed the door quietly, hoping not to wake him up.
“Percy!” Anthony called for me in his little kid voice. In his mouth my name sounded more like, “Peuwcee” and it made me sigh before I clomped down the steps to see what he had done now.
Anthony was sitting at the bottom of the stairs in a pile of toilet paper. He smiled widely at me as I came down the stairs, but he let me pick him up and put him on my hip. I carried him back upstairs, generally surprised he wasn't pitching a fit yet. But as soon as I went to lay him in bed, he bit my finger. His teeth clamped down on my finger so hard I had to bit my tongue to stop the scream. I would not wake up Carter. I would not.
I ripped my finger back from Anthony's mouth, and he laughed and ran downstairs. My finger was bleeding! Are you kidding me? A two year old kid made me bleed? Holy-
There was a loud crash echoing from the kitchen. Fear stabbed at my gut as I ran, once again, down the stairs to find Anthony sitting by the open cupboard under the sink. My eyes focused on a bottle of window cleaner. Oh, god, I thought, if he drank that. . .
I rushed over to the two year old, checking his hands and mouth for the blue colored chemical. I didn't see anything, which was a relief, but I pulled out my phone just in case. Looking at the iPhone in my hand, I remembered that Annabeth's phone number was now programmed in it. I had gotten her to give it to me so she could text me Piper's address. I thought it was a good, sneaky, way to get her phone number. . Just in case.
Anthony slapped my knee with his fist, which didn't really hurt, but it was still rude. He made to pick up another bottle of cleaner and I snatched it away from him and put it on the counter-top. His lip quivered, and I was terrified he was about to start crying, but then a loud noise came from the TV in the next room. He quickly stood up and toddled all the way over to the living room where – Thank the good Lord – his favorite show was playing on the DVR.
I fell backwards on the floor and ran my hands over my face. Damn, kids were a lot of work. I was already exhausted. When was Piper and her husband supposed to be home again?
I put away the cleaning chemicals Anthony had gotten out, then put a spoon through the cupboard handles. Maybe he wouldn't be able to open it now. I got up off the floor and dusted myself off, heading to the living room to sit with Anthony. But when I got there, he wasn't anywhere to be found.
I checked under and behind all the couches, in the bathroom, in the garage, I even went so far as to move the armor the TV was in to see if he was hiding behind there. Nothing. I stood in the middle of the room with my hands on my hips, looking around at the empty house in despair. What was Piper going to say when she got home and I had no idea where her kid was? Would she just not pay me? Would she put my picture in the newspaper with the title 'Irresponsible Babysitter – Do Not Hire'? Because I was perfectly okay with the latter. The way this night was going, I was never going to babysit again.
What was I even doing? I'm twenty-five years old, it's Saturday night, and I'm babysitting a Devil-child and his baby brother. I was supposed to be at a bar with my best friend or on a date with my girlfriend. The only problem was that my best friend was soon to be married and was spending all of his time with his fiancé. Also, I didn't have a girlfriend.
I sighed and was about to sit down, when a blood-curdling scream echoed from up the stairs. I swore under my breath as I practically flew up the stairs to find the culprit of the horrendous noise. I found Anthony in Carter's crib, sucking on the baby's pacifier. Carter, was on the diaper changing table, rolling around – and about to fall off.
I think I might've screamed, because I heard a high-pitched shrill as I bolted over to Carter. I grabbed a hold of him before her could roll off, thankfully, but he was still sobbing uncontrollably.
“Anthony!” I shouted, moving the baby to one arm and picking the older child out of the crib with the other. “Can't you just cut me some slack, dude? I'm really trying here, and you're not making it any easier.”
Anthony didn't seem to care. As soon as his feet touched the carpet, he was running out of the bedroom – his brown curls bouncing on his head. I whimpered as I put Carter back in his crib for what felt like the millionth time. I checked my watch, it was only 7:30. I still had at least an hour and a half to go. And I needed to get Anthony to sleep.
Luckily, Carter went to sleep pretty easy after that. I found him another pacifier after digging around in his drawers for a few minutes. He was fine after that. Anthony was another story.
When I found him, there was thick, red stuff all over the ground around him. For a second, I thought it was blood and I started having a panic attack. But when I realized it was only pasta sauce, I only got confused. How did a two year old open a jar of pasta sauce? I couldn't even open those damn things!
To make matters worse, he seemed to have thrown the jar after he opened it. The lid was buried in the pound of sauce, but the actual jar was shattered into shards of glass, which were strewn all over the room. I made a sound like was like a cross between a sob and a laugh – but it was mostly a sob.
I ended up putting him in the bathtub because it seemed like the only way to keep him in one place for longer than two seconds. He played with a rubber duck while I sat with my head in my hands on the counter.
Yeah Annabeth, I'll do great. My worst fears were coming alive except it wasn't my kids I was failing, it was Annabeth’s friends. Who was I kidding? I couldn't be a father! I had no idea what I was doing. Kids didn't like me enough to listen to me obviously, and I could barely get through a half hour without someone almost eating cleaning supplies. Annabeth had obviously put her faith in the wrong person.
Why had she even recommended me anyways? Yeah, so I could get 'experience' I guess, but why was I the first one she thought of? I mean, yeah, we were friends and stuff but like. . I didn't get it. Maybe I was just over-thinking everything. I was pretty sure I was having a panic attack.
I watched as Anthony splashed half of the water in the tub onto the floor. I sighed, holding back tears. I wanted to go home. I didn't want to babysit ever again. I didn't want children, I couldn't take care of children. I was going to be an awful father. I couldn't even control this kid. I started hyperventilating.
When would Piper be home? She had to get home soon or her son was going to end up setting the house on fire. I couldn't control him, he wouldn't listen. Was he deaf? Maybe he was deaf. How was I supposed to expect a deaf child to hear what I was telling him? Oh, my god I was doomed!
But, Annabeth thought I could do this. Annabeth had so much faith that I could do this she had told her friend to hire me for the night. And if she thought I could do it, maybe I could. If Annabeth ever found out about how awful this night had been, would she ever put the same faith in me? I wanted her to trust me, right? So I could do this. I could find a way to handle this monster of a kid and prove Annabeth right. I could do this.
I stood up off the counter and got Anthony out of the tub and dried off. I was somehow able to get him in pajamas without him going off the rail. Then I carried him down the stairs and gave him a cup on water to sip while we watched TV. He didn't scream, he didn't act up, and he sat on my lap and watched the show peacefully. I didn't even notice when he fell asleep.
He was still sleeping on my lap – and I was nodding off myself – when Piper and her husband Jason quietly walked through the back door. Piper smiled at me sympathetically, and ran her hand through her son’s hair.
“I hope he was good for you?” she asked. Jason sneaked up the stairs to see Carter I guessed. I hoped the kid was still in his crib where I left him.
“Oh yeah,” I lied. “He was an angel.” I hid my bloody, bandaged, finger behind my leg as Piper picked up Anthony and went upstairs to put him to bed.
I shrugged my sweatshirt on – since it was starting to get cold at night these days – and slipped my shoes on while waiting for Piper to come back down. She was back in a minute, thanking me for taking a night to babysit her monsters.
“It was no problem,” I assured her. “I had nothing else going on.”
“No girlfriend?” Jason asked as he joined his wife at the bottom of the stairs.
“Not at the moment,” I rubbed at the back of my neck. “Work kind of takes up all of my free time.”
Annabeth's eyes glowed behind my eyelids as I spoke. I pushed the thought away.
“I'm sure we can understand that,” Piper smiled. “It was hard having a relationship on top of work. And now, with two little ones to take care of. . It's even harder.”
“I can't even imagine,” I mumbled.
“It's worth it though,” Jason insisted.
I nodded.
After a few more minutes of small talk, I slipped out the front door and made my way to where my car was parked on the street of the suburban neighborhood. I was five minutes down the road when my phone started vibrating in my back pocket. I didn't even pause to look at caller I.D before I swiped my thumb across the screen to answer.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Seaweed Brain,” said a voice on the other end of the line. My gut twisted. Of course it's her. Of course she would call me as soon as I left her friend’s house.
“Annabeth?” I asked.
“Who else would call you at ten o'clock at night?” she challenged.
“Uh . . . maybe my mom? Or. . I don't know. The I.R.S?” I kept my eyes hard on the road. It wasn't pitch yet, but it was still pretty dark. If I let myself get distracted, I would crash and die. I didn't want that.
“Pfft,” Annabeth scoffed. “I was just calling to ask how the babysitting job went. Piper texted me and told me you said it went great. But I figured that was a lie.”
“Hey! You're the one that thought I would do well! Why have such little faith in me all of the sudden?”
“Because I know you. And you telling Piper that everything went smoothly probably means that everything went about as good as a category five hurricane.”
“Wow. . . I'm offended.”
I couldn't help but notice how normal we felt all of the sudden. Maybe we were both slowly starting to forget The Second Incident.
“Don't be. I have a right to be worried when it comes to you taking care of children,” Annabeth laughed.
“Good point – but if that was true, why'd you recommend me for the job?”
“Because you were worried that you couldn't do it. I don't think you are anymore.”
“Oh, I'm plenty worried. The entire night was a train-wreck up until the last half hour or so when the kid finally fell asleep,” I finally admitted.
“And so the truth is revealed!” Annabeth laughed again. I could imagine her smile, bright and beautiful and crinkling her eyes. I wished I was with her.
I let myself smile a bit then, turning the corner into the parking garage of Garden Towers.
“I've got to go. I'll talk to you on Monday,” I said as I pulled myself out of the car.
“Okay,” Annabeth said, her smile still evident in her voice. “Bye.”
She hung up as I slammed my car door, locking it behind me.
“Bye,” I whispered into the phone.

The way I saw it, everyone had one or two defining moments throughout the coarse of their life that changed everything. The first time I had one of these moments was in eighth grade; then again in senior year. I had had my third defining moment that night, so many weeks ago, when Annabeth and I had made out in her apartment. I figured it would be a while until I had my next one – if I even had a next one. As it turns out, I did.
It happened two weeks before Halloween – my favorite holiday. (I mean, who didn't want to dress up and pretend to be someone you admire? Without people making fun of you, that is. It was great!) I was already planning on taking my younger cousins, Nico and Hazel, to the local Halloween parade they held in a suburb of New York, but after that fourth defining moment, it seemed I would be taking a third person.
I woke up like I always did, groaning and mumbling to myself about how one of these days I was going to demand that I got different hours. It was a Wednesday, which meant the week was only half over. I felt like crying as I flipped the shower on. I had a nutritious breakfast, complete with an UN-toasted pop-tart and a water bottle filled with chocolate milk, before heading downstairs to meet Jake.
Annabeth wasn't waiting for me in the hallway this week, as my dad had sent her on a business trip to Florida for the week. She was supposed to take notes on how the Sr. Operations Manager 'managed' things. I was glad for this. Mostly because of the saying, 'out of sight, out of mind' and how it proved to be true. Also because I got my office to myself again. Even if it was only for a week.
When I got to the office, Kate was waiting to deliver a note. I had a business lunch at the Italian place – Monte's – around the corner. I sighed and nodded, making my way to my desk.
Monte's huh? I chuckled to myself, remembering the time Annabeth had tried to spite me by ordering everything on the menu from there. God, that was so long ago – June I think – during her first month working for me as our architect. I thought through how many times we had pranked each other during those first few weeks; how I had ended up landing her in the hospital because of that stupid cinnamon. I wondered, if we had acted differently, where would we be? Would we be in the same place we were in now? Or. . . I was in?
I had to keep reminding myself that Annabeth had said she wanted to be friends. She'd gotten caught up in the moment. We were both sleep-deprived and hungry and had been with each other almost non-stop for an entire week. It didn't mean anything. It had been a kiss. That's it. Okay, so maybe a few kisses, but that was beside the point.
I cursed myself for thinking about her again. Out of sight, out of mind, was my new motto. She wasn't here, so she wasn't on my mind. Just clear your head, Percy, I thought.
I took a deep breath, held it for ten seconds, and then let it out slowly. I just needed to find something else to think about. The sound of my phone beeping loudly gave me a heart attack, as I was trying to get myself into a relaxed state. After I had calmed myself down, and made sure I wasn't dying, I answered the phone gloomily.
It was my dad, telling me not to be late for that stupid lunch at Monte's.
“Can we switch it to somewhere Mexican?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
If I went to Monte's, Annabeth was going to be on my mind the entire time. This was supposed to be a business lunch; I needed to focus. Montes would not help me focus. Mexican on the other hand. . .
“I'm not feeling Italian today.”
“Mr. Rodriguez said Monte's, Percy,” my dad said sternly. I took that as a no. “Now you can't be late. And you need to drill into his head that he is over a month behind schedule! We were supposed to be moving into this new building September one. Now October's almost over and we don't even have the plumbing, electrical, or central air and heating in yet. Make sure he gets on it. Give him the new deadline of November first. Make sure he doesn't let us down this time. . Or he will be fired.”
“Yes, sir.”
I hung up the phone, leaning back in my chair and ruffling my hair with my fingers. I didn't want to go to that lunch, even if it meant getting on my father's bad side. But I knew I had to. As Co-CEO of the company, I had to do a lot of things I didn't particularly like. Such as, working with a specific blonde-haired, gray-eyed, deadly intelligent, woman.
I forbid myself to think her name.

I had a few hours of work to do until I needed to go to lunch, so I buckled down and concentrated until noon. My chest was filled with dread as I leaned against the wall of the elevator as it made its decent to ground floor. I flattened my tie to my shirt and made sure the creases in my pants weren't crooked before walking out to meet Jake.
When I saw her – standing at the receptionist's desk arguing that she had to take the elevator to the top floor – my heart stopped. I honestly never thought I would ever see her again. Her cinnamon brown hair was tied in a braid down her back; she was dressed in jean capris and a white V-neck; a long gold necklace hung from her neck, a locket on the bottom. I recognized it immediately.
“Calypso?” I breathed.
My subconscious took over, and suddenly I was crossing the floor to where she stood. She turned at the sound of my voice and her mouth spread into a huge smile. She looked mostly the same, only older; more mature. If it was even possible, she was ten times more beautiful than the last time I had seen her – seven years ago at graduation.
“Percy!” She wrapped her arms around my neck and my hands naturally fit into the curve of her waist. The receptionist looked confused, but I was too focused on breathing in the heavenly scent of my old girlfriend's hair to notice her.
“What are you doing here?” I asked softly, smiling into her neck.
All thoughts, worries, and visions of Annabeth vanished from my head. It was like she didn't exist. All the problems I was facing with her didn't matter. Calypso was here; I didn't care why, I didn't care how. She was here. And I had missed her. I said as much, and she pulled back a little to look me in the eyes. Her hazel eyes were still as deep and as pretty as they had always been. I felt the locket on her necklace in between us and a memory resurfaced.
Graduation Day. High School. She was leaving for Hawaii as soon as the ceremony was finished. I had pulled her aside as we were lining up in alphabetical order according to our last names. I had kissed her, long and slow, then I'd pulled out a jewelry box from the pocket of my slacks.
“Don't tell me you're proposing marriage, Percy Jackson,” she'd said with a bright smile. “Because I would have to say no, sadly.”
“I wish I could,” I had admitted. At the time, I had meant it. I loved her. Maybe I still did. Maybe I had never stopped. “But no. It's a graduation present. Something to remember me by when you're off at college in Hawaii.”
It had been the very locket she was wearing today. I knew that if you opened up the heart shaped locket, there was a picture of us – at our senior prom – with our arms around each other, laughing. I wondered idly if that picture was still in it. Or maybe it was a different photograph. One with her and some other guy's arms wrapped around her waist. Jealousy surged through me as I awaited her response.
“I came to see you. Duh,” Calypso's fingers knotted in my hair as she smiled sheepishly up at me. Unlike Annabeth, she was quite a bit shorter than me. I liked it. Not that I was thinking about Annabeth at this particular moment.
“Well, obviously. I just . . . I guess I don't understand.”
I was only half aware that Jake was pacing in front of the car, tapping his watch and looking at me like, dude, c'mon.
“Percy,” Calypso started. I wanted to let her explain, I really did. But I was late for the business lunch my dad had told me multiple times not to be late for.
“Look, Calypso,” I said, stepping away from her as gently as I could. “I'm late for an insanely important meeting right now. So, go up to the top floor – get my secretary Kate to give you my address, and when you get there, just tell Tony to tell Fred that I told you to ask for a key. Okay? I'll be there as soon as possible. We can talk then.”
I didn't hear her response, because then I was rushing towards the front where Jake was opening up my car door for me. I dared myself to look back at Calypso, and when I did, she was looking back too; a small smile on her lips.

ANNABETH

I was reminded of how badly I hated airports on my way back to New York from Florida. Originally, I wasn't supposed to be home until Friday night, but Mr. Jackson – THE boss and owner of the company I was Co-CEO of – had been gracious enough to bring me home early.
I wasn't looking forward to getting home as much as I was looking forward to getting out of the heat. It was October – it was supposed to be brisk, with leaves falling through the air from the trees – it wasn't supposed to be 80 degrees and sunny every single day.
What made my arrival back to New York even worse was that this meant I was presented with two more days of work with Percy; something I was less than ecstatic about.
Ever since that dreadful night when we had gotten back from San Francisco and ended up making out of the floor of my apartment, I had been forcing myself to be friends with him. It wasn't hard, he was a good person once you got to know him. But after everything, it certainly wasn't easy. The more days I had to put up with being friends with him, the more I wanted to throw myself out of my penthouse window.
It wasn't that I didn't like him. The problem was that I did like him. And every time I looked at him I thought of how his body had hovered on top of mine as he'd trailed his mouth over mine. And then on top of that, there was nothing I could do about it. We both knew that romantic relationships between co-workers at Earth Shaker Inc. were strictly prohibited. 'Violators will be fired immediately' it said in the contract.
It was enough to drive anyone mad.
When my flight landed in New York, it wasn't even noon yet. But I was exhausted from being up so early, and I was not keen on going to work the rest of the day. So I told the taxi driver to take me to Garden Towers as I stifled a yawn.
Tony – the doorman – welcomed me home, obviously surprised that I was back so early in the week. I nodded politely and wheeled my suitcase into the elevator. I was more than surprised to see a very pretty, thin, brown-haired girl standing in front of Percy's apartment. She raised her eyebrows at me in silent greeting as I pushed past her to unlock my front door. I couldn't tell what she did after I was safely inside my house.
I looked around at the large apartment; dusty from my absence. There was a window on the far wall, which had a pretty great view since we were one floor from the penthouse. There was a table and chairs in one corner, a sofa and a TV that I hardly used in the other. The kitchen was to the left of the front door, and it was nice. I obviously didn't live in a cheap, rundown apartment building. Even though Mr. Jackson wasn't paying my living expenses anymore, my job payed exceptionally well.
Although I was happy to be in such a high-up position, I missed being an architect. It had only been a few months, but I was itching to design something. I promised myself I would work on a sketch as soon as I cleaned the house. My nose was starting to tickle from the dust.
I opened all the windows, letting in the natural light and the autumn breeze after I had cleaned them. Is scrubbed all of the counter-tops, swept the wood floor, and even went so far as to organize the movies in the cabinet under the TV.
After the bathroom was cleaned, my bedsheets were changed, and my laundry had been started, I finally got to sit down with a blank sheet of paper and draw.
As I stared at the white paper, in contrast with my mahogany-topped desk, I realized that this was my favorite part of designing a building. The fact that this blank sheet of paper could hope something beautiful and powerful, thanks to my fingers, was mind boggling. An idea for a new capitol building that would never come to pass popped up in my head, and I started scribbling down notes in my messy scrawl.

PERCY

The business lunch was long and slow, and I found myself checking my watch every two minutes. I didn't realize that I was moving my leg up and down with anticipation until the woman next to me silently asked if I had a nervous tick. After that I clamped my hand down on my thigh to keep it from moving.
The vision of Calypso sitting in my apartment was enough to make me want to throw up in fear. It didn't help that Monte's had gotten a bad shipment of meat – which I had eaten. I did not feel well to say the least.
My irrational fear of being at Monte's was long gone. So dissipated that I could hardly remember why I hadn't want to come in the first place. The only thing that was on mind was Calypso. I spent the entire lunch in an internal battle, trying to come up with a reasonable explanation on why she was here. All I could come up with was that a family member had died and she was home for the funeral. She'd thought it would be nice to swing by and visit her old boyfriend of four years.
I had to be frank with myself, I had missed her more than I thought. Ever since she'd left for college, I'd done everything possible to try and forget about her. I had refused to say her name, put all of our pictures away in boxes to be kept at my mother's house, I had even gotten a whole new wardrobe so I couldn't tie her to any of my outfits. I admit, the latter was a little extreme, but it had worked. I hadn't thought of her specifically until she had shown up in the lobby of my office. I was still in shock.
“What are the new terms, Mr. Jackson?” someone to my side asked me.
I focused on their face – a man; Mr. Rodriguez. He was asking what the new terms were. Oh, my father had told me what to tell them . . . what where they again?
“Uh . . .” I stuttered, trying desperately to remember my dad’s instructions on the phone call we'd had that morning. “You have a new deadline of November one,” I said, very unsure of where I was going with this. “You're a month behind schedule – we were supposed to be moved in and running September first and now October is halfway through. You need to get the building done ASAP or my father will fire you. Make sure you're done on time.” My confidence grew with every word. I was pretty sure I had nailed it.
“Yes, Mr. Jackson,” Mr. Rodriguez nodded, obviously afraid of the power I held. I could fire him myself, right now. But I wouldn't. That would probably not earn me any points with my dad. “I can assure you, we will be done by the first of November. You can count on us.”
I nodded. “Is that all?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well then have a nice day – I have to go now.”
It wasn't exactly the truth. I was supposed to stay with them until they went back to the building site. But I was getting antsy. I needed to see Calypso.
I got up from the table, leaving a $100 tip, and made my way into the brisk outdoors.

She was sitting on my couch when I got home. And the sight of her there, in a place I never thought she would be, made my shoulders fall. I dropped my keys on the kitchen table as I passed into the living room to sit with her. She looked up, just noticing I was there, as I maneuvered around her to sit next to her.
“Hey,” I said, biting my lip. I was terrified I had the wrong idea. I was terrified she was just back here for a family member’s funeral. I was just terrified to be back in the same room as her. “What are you doing here?” I asked again.
“Well,” she said. “You told me to meet you here.”
I chuckled. “You know that's not what I mean.”
She sighed, looking around the room. “You're so . . . different, Percy” she said, looking back to me.
I scooted closer to her, draping an arm over the top of the couch above her. I could reach out and touch her hair, or arm from this position.
“But I'm not.”
It was silent for a few long moments. I was really thinking she was going to get up and walk out on me. But she spoke.
“I came because I found this locket again,” she said. “It was in my side-table drawer, and to be honest I hadn't thought about it in years. But I was cleaning it out one day and I found it. Looking at the picture, I realized that for the past seven years, we've both been living our lives apart when we were supposed to be living them together. I shouldn't have gone to Hawaii for college; I shouldn't have found a steady job there once I finished. Because if I hadn't I would've been here, and maybe we would be married already with a two year old and another on the way.”
The two year old thing made me even more terrified.
But I really thought about what she was saying to me. There wasn't a doubt in my mind that said that we would still be together if she hadn't have left. I had loved her. And maybe I still did.
“What are you saying? You want to get back together?”
“That's exactly what I'm saying, Percy,” she whispered bringing her hand up to cup the side of my face. Her touch was familiar, her touch was normalcy, and her touch was home. We had been together form eighth grade until senior year, we belonged to each other for so long. We were so easy, so smooth, and so right.
“Okay,” I agreed. “Let's get back together.”
Calypso smiled widely. She wrapped her arms around my neck and hugged me tight. I hugged her tighter, running my hand down her braid.
“I missed you so much,” she murmured, pressing her lips to my ear.
“I missed you too.”
We spent the rest of the night watching movies and talking and just spending time together. Catching up for all the years we missed. When I asked her where she was staying, she admitted she hadn't thought that far ahead yet. When I told her she could stay with me, she tried to sleep on the couch. But I told her she was an idiot and pulled her into the bedroom with me.
It was nice; sleeping with someone in the most innocent way. We were close enough to touch for the first time in a long time, and it was easy to fall asleep.

When we woke up, I realized it was nearly ten o'clock. I went to get up, but Calypso pulled me back down, insisting that I didn't need to go.
“Well . . .” I thought. “I do have a Co-CEO. She can take care of things today.” My dad had told me that Annabeth was home early on the phone yesterday.
“What's her name?” Calypso asked.
Suddenly, I couldn't remember. Because then Calypso was putting her arms around my neck and the entire world seemed irrelevant.
“How about we go get breakfast?” she suggested.
So we shrugged out of bed and got dressed. I called Jake to bring the car around, and we headed down to go to the nearest iHop. As soon as we sat down at our booth, my phone starting ringing. It was my dad. I ignored it.
As I put my phone back into my pocket, Calypso picked up a menu. I followed suit, I watched her over the top of the paper as she scanned the items. Her eyes flickered up to meet mine, and the hazel color gleamed in the florescent lights of the restaurant. She smiled a little, her cheeks rising. I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks as I looked back down at my menu.
Honestly, I didn't actually look at the menu. Every time I was sure she wasn't paying attention, I would sneak glances at her. When the waiter came to take our order, I had no idea what was even on the menu. I ended up saying, “The same as her, please.”
Calypso eyed me suspiciously as the waiter walked away. “Did you really want an egg-white omelet with spinach, red onions, and goat cheese? Or where you too preoccupied with staring at me to actually pay attention to what I was saying?”
“Uh . . . what's the right answer?” truthfully, that omelet sounded awful to me. Goat cheese? Who ate goat cheese?
Calypso laughed, but didn't choose to enlighten me. I opened my mouth to say something, but my phone started ringing again. I ignored it, but two minutes after it stopped ringing, it started up again. It went on like that for ten minutes until Calypso yelled at me to just “answer the damn phone you idiot.”
I grumbled something into the phone, and my father's voice came back; clear and worried.
“Percy, finally you answer. I was close to having a heart attack!” he said. “Are you at the office?”
“Uh. . . “ I was confused to say the least. “No, actually. I'm not. I'm out to breakfast with . . .” I glanced at Calypso. “With an old friend.”
“Is Annabeth there?” he asked.
My heart kind of clenched a little, but then I remembered I was with Calypso now and it went away.
“As far as I know. She never misses a day of work. What's wrong, dad?”
“Headquarter caught on fire, Percy. I need you there ASAP to make sure everyone's okay. I'm sorry you have to cut breakfast short,” he sounded genuinely sorry.
“Okay,” I said. “I'll be there soon.”
Hanging up the phone, I explained the situation briefly to Calypso before throwing a wad of cash on the table and moving towards the exit. Calypso followed me; I said nothing. I told Jake to step on it while simultaneously telling him what to expect from our burning building. I really hoped everyone was okay – especially Annabeth. . Since she's my Co-CEO and everything. I don't know if I could go back to doing it by myself.
When we got there, I advised Calypso to stay in the car, but of course she didn't listen. Smoke hung in the air around the building I used to call work. There were firefighters everywhere; still spraying water at the smoking building. Calypso slid her hand into mine.
The entire facade of the building was charred. I didn't want to know what it looked like inside. I glanced around the street, looking for my employees. I saw Kate talking to a news reporter, and I dragged Calypso over to her with me.
“Kate,” I said. He turned away from the reporter. She had mascara streaks on her face. “What happened?”
“Electrical fire,” she told me. “All our paperwork is gone.” she sniffled like that was the only thing she cared about.
“Okay, whatever. Did everyone make it out safely?” I knew that this would be a wonderful opportunity for a lawsuit if someone died or was injured. Not just for their sake, but for mine, I was worried.
Kate nodded. “Yes, everyone got out. No one has so much as a scratch, bump, or burn on their body. I made sure of that.”
“Thank you so much,” I said, putting a hand on her shoulder. Calypso smiled at Kate warmly, who eyed her but said nothing.
“Percy!” Annabeth's voice cut through the chaos. I turned, Calypso moving with me as Annabeth slammed and car door shut behind her and ran over to me.
She was dressed casually, not like she was going to work, in yoga pants and a V-neck t-shirt. She had a light jacket on, and her hair was down around her shoulders. I hadn't realized she hadn't been there until now. I walked slowly with Calypso to meet her away from all the news reporters.
“I got the call from your dad,” she explained. “Why weren't you here?”
I got a little angry at that. Why wasn't I here? Maybe because it was my dad's company and could come in late if I wanted to. Also, she was the neurotic one that never missed a day of work.
“Why wasn't I here? Why weren't you here? You're always here!”
“Well, excuse me if I wanted to take a day off after traveling all week!” she shouted, resulting in a lot of looks from camera men and employees.
“You could've called! If I had known that I would've come into work!” I yelled back.
“And instead of coming to work, what were you doing?” she challenged.
“I-” I didn't know what to say. I didn't want to tell her the truth. “I was working all week – I deserved a break.”
“I was working all week too, Percy!”
I was strangely aware of the fact that Calypso's hand was still in mine as Annabeth and I were having this heated conversation. Her touch helped me to not get so angry.
“So you choose now to take a day off?”
“Hey, this is not my fault. This could've happened any day,” she locked her jaw. I saw her eyes drift to where Calypso's hand was in mine, but she quickly moved her gaze back to my eyes.
“But it happened today,” I insisted. “Now neither of us know what really happened.”
“Percy,” Calypso squeezed my hand. “Kate said it was just an electrical fire. It's fine. I don't see why it matters since both you two and everyone else is safe.”
I gritted my teeth. I wanted to be mad at Annabeth, but Calypso made it impossible to be. She was right. At least we were both safe – neither of us had been anywhere near the fire.
“She's right, Percy.” Annabeth said, chewing her bottom lip. I tore my eyes away from her mouth, choosing instead to look around at the clusters of firemen, news reporters, and people from the street that were stopping to examine the mess.
“I'm just glad none of the employees were hurt,” I said.
“That would've been a mess of a lawsuit, probably,” Annabeth agreed.
A glance at Calypso told me that she was very uncomfortable in this situation. But what was I supposed to do? Introduce them? 'Hey, Calypso, this is my co-worker, Annabeth. I kind of had a thing for her until you showed up. Don't be jealous!' I didn't think that would go over very well, but I could tell Annabeth was confused as to who the girl next to me was. I sighed.
“Uh . . . Annabeth,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “This is Calypso – my girlfriend from high school.”
I watched Annabeth's face intently, searching for a change in expression. There was one, but it wasn't what I expected. She smiled widely, seemingly forgetting the chaos that was ensuing around us, and held her hand out to shake Calypso's.
“It's nice to meet you,” Annabeth said. “I'm Annabeth – I work with Percy.”
“Work for him?” Calypso tried to clarify. I knew Calypso wasn't trying to be rude, and I think Annabeth knew it too. But Annabeth's jaw got visibly stiffer – although I didn't think Calypso noticed.
“No . . .” Annabeth corrected her. “We're Co-CEO. We work together.”
“Ah, I see,” Calypso nodded. Annabeth and I made eye contact. Her question was clear: holding hands? Really, Percy?
My eyes must have stayed on Annabeth's for a second too long, because Calypso squeezed my hand a little. I tore my gaze off of her and let my eyes roam over the situation. What could I do to get out of here? What was a good excuse to get away from talking to Annabeth? I spotted Katie Gardner across the parking lot, smiling at a fireman – probably flirting with him.
“Uh, I'm going to go talk to Gardner,” I told Annabeth. She nodded a little, her lips pursed, and I lead Calypso over to Katie.
“Katie Gardner is the head of our marketing team,” I explained to Calypso as we approached Katie. “She's very nice.”
Katie was looking a little frazzled, but she was twirling her hair around on one finger, talking animatedly to a fireman with his helmet off. He had a mop of dark curly hair and tanned skin – he looked a bit Hispanic.
“Thank you so much for saving me,” Katie was saying.
The fireman blushed to the roots of his hair. “Just doing my job, ma'am.”
“Well, maybe we could get lunch sometime?” Katie fluttered her eyelashes.
“You don't even know my name,” he mumbled.
“I'm Katie. What's your name?”
“Leo.”
“There, now we know each other’s names. So what do you say?”
The poor guy was saved from answering when a fellow fireman called his name to come help him. Leo mumbled a 'maybe some other time' and ran off to assist his co-workers.
Katie looked hurt. I knew she was lonely – as she was almost thirty years old and had never been in a long-term relationship.
I decided she probably didn't want our company at the moment, and steered us back towards the troves of people.

When my dad finally got there to announce that we would be using one of our smaller locations until our new HQ was finished, Annabeth and I were finally allowed to leave. I offered her a ride back with us and Jake, but she gratefully declined and hailed a taxi for herself.
It was already dinner time, and since we didn't get to have our breakfast date, I directed Jake to take us somewhere Mexican. Calypso didn't let go of my hand.
“So . . .” she started as soon as we were seated in the restaurant. “Annabeth.”
Oh shit. I knew this had been coming.
“What about her?” I asked nonchalantly, flipping through the paper menu with ease.
“You two seem . . .” she paused, looking for the right word. “Close.” she decided.
I shrugged. “I guess. We've been working together for a while.”
“Do I have any reason to be worried?” she raised her eyebrows at me. Her caramel hair fell across one shoulder, reaching down to her ribcage.
“Worried about what?” I said, trying to play dumb.
I was hoping she would buy it, considering I wasn't known for my brains. But she cocked her head at me like she hadn't expected me to be this stupid.
I knew what she was about to say, but I didn't know how I was going to respond. Should she be worried? Twenty-four hours ago I would've been adamant that I had feelings for Annabeth; now, I wasn't so sure.
“Let me rephrase,” she said, putting her menu down and placing her hands palm-down on the table. “Do I have any reason to be jealous?”
“Well . . .”
“Just tell me if there's anything going on between you two.”
“Other than the fact that we work together?”
“Yes, Percy. Other than work.”
The Second Incident flashed across the back of my head briefly. I shoved it away and focused on Calypso's eyes.
“No. Nothing.” I said.
“Can I trust you to tell me if there is? Can I trust you, period?” Calypso eyed me wearily, like she was looking at a stranger.
I leaned over the table towards her. “Calypso, you know me. Of course you can trust me. What makes you think you can't?”
“Just making sure.” she said.
I understood why Calypso wasn't sure if she could trust me completely. I mean, we hadn't seen each other since high school and now we were dating again – we hardly knew anything about each other. They say that every seven years you become an entirely new person . . . if that's true, then Calypso and I have a lot to learn if we're going to make this work.
I was also slightly terrified that Calypso had seen my eyes drift to Annabeth's mouth – even though it was only once or twice. I suspected that she suspected that something had gone on between Annabeth and me. Which, I suppose, something had. Just not something that meant anything, apparently.
Calypso and I talked about nearly everything over dinner that night. Her favorite color was purple – still, after ten years. She'd had a dog for a while, but he had died from being ran over by a car. She'd found out that she was allergic to several different tropical plants while studying in Hawaii, and she'd even gotten to hold a monkey.
My life after high school wasn't nearly as exciting as hers. While she had been swimming with monkeys and climbing erupting volcanoes on deserted islands, I had been getting my business degree at a state college while simultaneously gaining weight from all the fake preservatives I had been eating.
“I cannot believe you actually ate that food!” Calypso laughed. “The Percy I knew would never have put that in his body.”
“The Percy you knew also lived with a health conscious mother,” I reminded her. “As soon as I moved out I tossed being healthy out the window.”
“Well you look pretty good to me . . .” her eyes trailed down my chest. “What's your secret?” she took a sip of her water, not taking her eyes off of me.
“I go to the gym sometimes.”
“Sometimes?”
“When I have the time.”
“Oh, of course. Being the Co-CEO of the biggest company in America must be taxing work,” Calypso sounded unsympathetic. “All the money you get paid, what ever will you do with it?”
“Well I admit, it was a lot harder before Annabeth got roped into picking up my slack. It's nice to not have to do everything anymore. We can split the responsibilities,” I said.
She nodded thoughtfully; her eyes gleamed. I decided not to mention Annabeth anymore.
The rest of the date passed smoothly; there was no mention of work, or Annabeth or anything that could (and would) put a damper on the mood. When we got home, we settled into the couch to watch a movie. I popped some popcorn and put it in between us, but soon she was moving the bowl to the coffee table and snuggling into my side.
“Hey, Percy?” she looked up at me. I ignored the movie and met her eyes.
Before I could say anything, she moved her face up towards mine and kissed me.
Here's the thing, I didn't want to compare it to anything; I really didn't. I felt like if I compared this kiss to the one Annabeth and I had shared, I would be in some way, cheating on Calypso. Which I know wasn't true, but I couldn't help but feel guilty about it.
I also couldn't help but compare it anyways.
With Annabeth it had been like an explosion. Like we were simultaneously ruining everything and nothing all at once. It was the biggest oxymoron ever, but it had made sense. The way my hand had fit into hers that night, it had been like they were made to hold each other. Our mouths, curved together in such a way that even though it felt wrong, I had never felt anything so right. I longed for that feeling as I kissed Calypso – which was the worst thing I had ever done.
With Calypso, it was more like the lapping of water on the beach. Consistent, slow, calming. But I didn't want to be calm. I wanted to be filled with passion and love and unable to form a coherent sentence. I was disappointed to say the least.
I pulled away as she tried to deepen the kiss. She looked at me, confusion in her eyes, and I felt hollow.
“I'm sorry-” I mumbled, looking for the words to explain how bad I was feeling. “It's just-”
“You're not ready?” Calypso guessed. “Because I understand completely if you want to take it slow. We've been apart for a long time.”
I was grateful that she found the problem for me. Also that she had given the solution in the question. Maybe if we did that – took it slow – I would find a way to feel that explosion with her. Even if it wasn't like that the first kiss, who said it wouldn't be a few weeks or months down the road? After all the years Calypso and I had been together, it seemed like we were just supposed to keep at it – and eventually die together. It didn't feel right, but it didn't feel wrong either. It was comfortable, easy. That's was I told my mom I wanted.
But then I remembered what she had told me in reply. 'You know something is good and real when it's hard, Percy. Remember that,' she had said.
“Yeah,” I said. “Yeah, I just want to take it slow.”

I felt a strange sense of relief as I left the sleeping Calypso to go to work the next morning. It was Friday though, and for some reason I was dreading the weekend; but I couldn't put my finger on why. My dad emailed me the address of the building we would be working out of until November, and I rattled it off to Jake as Annabeth and I climbed in the back seat of the Lexus.
I hadn't told Calypso that Annabeth rode to work with me every day for fear that she would get jealous, or mad, or both. So even though I was relieved to be going to work, I was also sort of strung up because I was terrified of Calypso finding out – but I didn't know why.
On this particular Friday, it was raining. And all it did was make me dread the weekend even more. Annabeth and I made small talk with Jake in the car, but once we got into the office we hardly spoke at all. Until lunch.
Both Annabeth and I were crazy busy trying to get the marketing and design team to work together so we would be ready for the upcoming holiday season, so we ordered a pizza and decided to stay in for lunch.
I watched as she gingerly picked up a slice of pepperoni with extra olives – which she always insisted we order. She peeled the crust off, and chewed that first before starting on the rest of the pizza. Those were two small things I knew about Annabeth that I didn't about Calypso. Annabeth always ate the crust first – no matter what food it was; if it had crust, she ate it first.
“Calypso seems nice,” Annabeth said thoughtfully after she had swallowed the last of her pizza.
“Yeah she is,” I agreed, stuffing half a slice into my mouth so I couldn't reply to whatever she would say next.
“I thought you said you had feelings for me,” she said clearly, not slurring her words together at all. The way she spoke, she didn't sound hurt; only curious. There was no accusations anywhere in her words.
“I thought you said to forget about it,” I challenged, copying the way she was staring at her pizza.
“I thought you said they wouldn't be easily forgotten,” She pressed. I didn't know what she was doing, but I didn't like it.
“I thought you said you just wanted to be friends.”
“I do,” she insisted, finally looking me dead in the eye.
“Then what's with all the questions?”
“They're not questions,” she told me. “They're statements meant to make you admit what you're doing.”
“What I'm doing?”
“Why you're all the sudden back together with your high-school sweetheart a few weeks after you confessed your love to me,” she clarified.
“Hey,” I warned her, standing up from the table so I could point down to her. “I never 'confessed love' to you okay? It was a kiss. It meant nothing.”
“That's not what you said,” she remained sitting, once again refusing to look at me.
“I was caught up in the moment,” I finished. I stayed standing, and walked over to the borrowed desk in the corner of the room.
Annabeth picked at her nails absentmindedly, chewing her lip. She made no move to get up.
“I guess we both were,” she murmured.
I wasn't sure if I had heard her correctly, but instead of trying to pry, I shook my head and buried myself in work.
After lunch my dad was making us meet Mr. Rodriguez once again to discuss everything that needed to be in the new building as of November first. This included having the interior designer my dad had hired for some reason to sit in and make some plans.
I really wanted nothing less than to sit through a 2-3 hour meeting with Annabeth right next to me, but I also was weary of going home to be stuck with Calypso for the next two days. So I stuck my ground and tried my best not to squirm too much when she sat down next to me at the head of the table.
My head was swimming (did I say swimming? I meant drowning) in thoughts the entire time, and I hardly knew what was going on. So when I realized Annabeth had called my name four times, attempting to ask for my opinion, I had to rub my eyes to get myself to focus. I was thinking it had something to do with the fact that I was very ADHD.
About halfway through the duration of the meeting, all the noise from my thoughts and all the people around me where making me dizzy. Oh a really dumb-ass whim, I slammed my forehead on the table in front of me and let myself shoot up, leaning back in my chair with a groan.
“Mr. Jackson, are you okay?” Reyna, the interior designer, asked worriedly.
I rubbed my head, trying hard not to pass out from a mix of exhaustion and head trauma. I mumbled something unintelligible and closed my eyes hard. My forehead throbbed erratically from the spot I had hit, outwards. Until my entire face and skull was aching in such a way that I felt my head might explode. The noise in the room that had continued after I assured everyone I was okay with a thumbs up, was making it worse. I felt like I might vomit. I was getting dizzy.
“Miss Chase?” I heard someone say. “He doesn't look good.” I assumed they were talking about me since I probably didn't look much better than I felt.
“You're right,” I felt a thin hand press against my forehead; sweet breath in my face. I couldn't see who it was, since my eyes were closed, but the way my spine tingled at her touch, I could guess.
“Maybe you should get him to the doctor,” the same someone suggested. “He hit his head pretty hard.”
“Yeah,” I heard Annabeth agree, and her hand was taken off of my forehead. I wanted her to touch me again. Annabeth, I tried to call out to her in my thoughts, but my head hurt too damn bad to concentrate.
I shouldn't be wanting her to touch me . . . there was a reason for that. But why? I couldn't remember. I felt like I was going to throw up.
Next thing I knew two muscular people were dragging me out of the room and into a cool car. It was especially hot outside for this time of year, and I would've been sweating anyways, even if I hadn't felt so sick.
I was only vaguely aware of the fact we were at the hospital a while later. Mostly because there had been so many people in the car, yelling at Jake and me and Annabeth and each other, that I had felt even worse. I was half passed out and still dizzy when they dragged me into the doctor’s office.
Someone – I'm guessing Annabeth – peeled off my suit jacket and rolled up the sleeves of my collared shirt. I was very grateful for this, since it cooled me off a bit and stopped the sweating.
I wondered – past all the throbbing and dizziness – what was wrong with me. Did I have a concussion? Were concussions supposed to be this awful? Why did I fell so damn awful? I just wanted to sleep.
“Can I sleep?” I slumped against the person that was holding me up. I felt a hand brush my hair away from my face; a thumb brushing over my mouth.
“You can sleep,” a soft voice said.
I obeyed.

Calypso. It had been Calypso in the entryway of the hospital, moving my hair back from my eyes and telling me is was okay to sleep. I wasn't sure how she had gotten there so fast, but I was almost sure it had been her. Who else would it have been? It couldn't have been Annabeth, she had made it clear that she didn't like me at all. She wouldn't be comforting me and running her fingers through my hair. It had to have been Calypso. I was sure of it.
But when I opened my eyes, I didn't see Calypso. Instead I saw a beautiful woman with curly blonde hair. She had casual clothes on, and her hair was down to frame her face – so at first I hardly recognized her. She had a sliver of a smirk on her lips as she looked down at me.
I bunched a fistful of fabric in my fingers, realizing I was lying in a bed. Looking around at the room dizzily, I didn't recall how I had gotten here. But where was here?
“You drool in your sleep,” the blonde woman said, bringing my focus back to her intense gray eyes.
It took me a moment to comprehend her words, but when I did, I scoffed. “I do not.”
“Oh, yes you do,” she laughed, her eyes crinkling. I liked her smile; but I wanted to look at her eyes again.
I shook my head in exasperation. I didn't drool in my sleep. She was pretty, but she was delusional.
“Where am I?”
“The hospital,” she said. “You have a pretty bad concussion.”
“How'd I get that?”
She laughed again, “You hit your head on a table; you don't remember? Do you have amnesia?”
“I don't think so . . .” I said it like a question.
“Who am I?” she asked, her gray eyes narrowing.
Don't do that to your eyes, I wanted to tell her, I'm trying to look at them. But I didn't say that. The air that hung between us made it clear even to me that it wouldn't be acceptable. But why? Why couldn't I remember why it wasn't acceptable?
Then I really looked at her, concentrating hard. Her gray eyes; her blonde hair; her thin lips. I knew her. I remembered perfectly clear why I couldn't tell her what I had wanted to.
“You're Annabeth,” I said, holding back a smile.
“Tell me about myself then,” she raised her eyebrows in challenge.
It didn't take much concentration to recall her specifically; it was all already there. Her favorite color was red; she always ate her crust first; she couldn't swim; she was allergic to cinnamon. She was an architect, but also my co-worker. Her mother had left her father after she was born. She was raised in a slightly abusive household until she moved to New York. I had been with her last time she'd seen her family. She liked hamburgers; she hated mac and cheese; grapefruits couldn't be sensual; she'd only been on two plane rides her entire life. I . . . I . . . I have feelings for her.
I didn't say the last part out loud, but I told her everything I knew about her. Which happened to be a lot more than I'd thought. I was afraid I had gotten something wrong, or everything wrong. That I had been thinking of my mother or cousin, not her. But her smile told me I'd hit a home run.
“Wow,” she said, rubbing her nose a bit. “You know me better than I know myself.”
“I sure hope that's not true,” I chuckled. “That might be creepy.”
“Maybe a little,” she admitted, sniffling. She flicked her finger under her eye.
“Are you crying?”
“Pfft, no,” she disregarded my question by rolling her eyes before pointing her gaze towards the floor of the hospital.
For a second, I had a small panic attack. I was in the hospital. But then I looked down at myself and saw that I was fully clothed, just lying in a bed in a private room. I watched Annabeth as she moistened her lips, refusing to look at me.
“Why are you crying?” I asked.
“I'm not crying-” she started, but then she met eyes with me.
I must have been giving her that look that said: Really? You're really going to try and bullshit your way out of this?
“I'm just-” she broke off and took a deep breath before continuing. “I'm just glad you're okay.”
“Why wouldn't I be?”
She shrugged, swallowing hard.
“I have a skull of steel,” I said. “A little concussion won't hurt me.”
She cocked her head at me and let out a small laugh. “That's what all the tough guys say when they get on a motorcycle without a helmet. And they all end up with brain damage, or dead.”
“Yeah? Well I'm not like those guys. I actually just have a thick skull.”
“Is that why your head's so big?” she joked.
“Hey!” I reached out and shoved her shoulder a little – since she was sitting close enough to my bed for me to touch her.
“I'm just kidding.” she smiled a little.
I liked it when she smiled like that. I could still see her stormy eyes, but her smile was so adorable. She looked like a princess – or a goddess.
I thought about that latter thought. Personally I would put her under Aphrodite – the goddess of love and beauty – since she was so absolutely gorgeous, and could probably make anyone fall in love with her just with her eyes. But, I knew Annabeth. And I knew she probably wouldn't appreciate being compared to what she probably thought was the most trivial goddess. After a little deliberation and straining to get myself to remember the other female goddesses, I finally decided she should be paired up with Athena – the goddess of wisdom.
I knew that Annabeth was probably the most intelligent person I knew. Her aura screamed wisdom. Even from the way she held herself, you knew she could probably beat you up while reciting a Greek passage from the Sibylline Books by heart – which was insanely attractive.
“You know a big head indicates a big brain.”
“You wish, Seaweed Brain,” she said.
“Wise Girl,” I sneered.
“Kelp Head.”
“Uh . . . Smarty Pants?” I choked.
I obviously hadn't been expecting a quick-witted insult war.
“Smarty Pants?” Annabeth let out a loud laugh - which made my head ache a little, but I didn't mind too much considering how cute her laugh was. “That's seriously the best you could do?”
“Hey, I have a concussion,” I defended myself feebly.
“I thought you said you had a thick skull,” she bit back a laugh at my contradiction.
“Uh . . . yeah, but-” I stuttered, searching desperately, but not finding anything intelligent to say. I eventually sighed, defeated. “I've got nothing.”
“You're such a dork.” Annabeth shook her head, smirking to herself. “Why am I even friends with you?”
Friends. The word sent a knife-like twist through my stomach. The feeling spread all the way to my heart. I gulped.
“Because you work with me; you're forced to be,” I reasoned.
Annabeth bit her lip. Her eyes fluttered around the room before stopping on mine. I loved her eyes. How unpredictable and fierce they looked. They were like a storm cloud, like they could appear calm and cool, but could lash out in white-hot anger if you slipped up.
“Yeah, but I also-” Annabeth started.
I never got to find out what she was about to say, because just then the door to my room swung open, hitting the back wall, and a woman will cinnamon-brown hair rushed to my other side.
“I'm so sorry, baby,” she was saying, her words slurring together from her fast speech. “I was in a job interview and I didn't get the message until a half hour ago. Are you okay? What happened? Are you okay?” she directed all her questions to me – the invalid – and not Annabeth, which I found a little strange and annoying.
“He's fine,” Annabeth answered stiffly. Her mood had changed dramatically since the woman had walked in the room. Two seconds ago she had been carefree and fun, comfortable with me. But this woman seemed to get to her – especially since she had tried to ask me what was wrong with me. I could hardly place her name let alone tell her if I was okay or not.
I could tell Annabeth was trying to put on a nice face, plastering it on so thick only someone who really knew her could see through it. And from what we established earlier, when I'd woken up, I really knew her.
“He has a bad concussion, but with some rest, pain medicine, and sleep, he'll be good as new,” Annabeth finished.
“Are you sure?” the woman with the brown hair looked at her skeptically, like she wasn't sure she could trust her judgment.
“Positive,” Annabeth almost spit the word at the other woman. “He has a thick skull.”
The other woman scrunched her eyebrows together. She was pretty, but she had nothing on Annabeth. At least in my opinion.
“Who said that?” she asked.
“He told me,” Annabeth pointed to where I was lying in the hospital bed.
The woman with the cinnamon hair had one hand in my hair, the other holding my hand. I hadn't gotten a good look at her; I needed to see her to remember her clearly. I knew she wasn't my mom, I could recall my mother with perfect clarity. But I knew I knew her from somewhere, considering how touchy she was being. It was making me uncomfortable. I silently wished she would leave so I could be with Annabeth again.
I looked up at the woman in confusion, studying her features closely. I knew her . . . I knew her . . . I knew her . . . from where?
“Percy?” she asked, looking down at me with affection evident in her eyes. “How are you feeling?”
I grasped for a name. Annabeth seemed to notice my struggle, and jumped into the conversation.
“Calypso!” she said excitedly, causing the woman to jump a little before looking at Annabeth. “What job were you interviewing for?”
Calypso. That's right; she's Calypso. My. . What was she? Girlfriend, I guess. We'd dated in high school, but we'd gotten back together just a few days ago. But, even though I tried to recall small details about her, I couldn't find anything except for that her favorite color was purple. I found that odd, since she was apparently my girlfriend. Weren't you supposed to know those small things about people you were dating? Why did I know all those things about Annabeth but not Calypso?
Calypso kept her hand in mine, but gave Annabeth a brief description of the job she had interviewed for. Then she turned back to me and repeated her question, a kind of annoyed look in her eyes.
“My head is kind of sore, but I feel fine,” I told her.
She immediately perked up. “Do you need pain medicine? I have some in my bag – I'll go get it.”
“No, no,” I said, pulling myself up in bed. “I'm fine – I don't need medicine.”
“Are you sure? I think you should take some anyways,” Calypso insisted.
“He said he was fine though-” Annabeth tried to help, but Calypso ignored her and shoved a pill in my mouth.
I swallowed it dry, not wanting her to accidentally drown me by forcing me to chug down half a bottle of water. She pursed her lips but said nothing.
“When can I go home?” I asked.
I didn't direct my question to anyone specifically, but it was sort of implied that it was for Annabeth. She was the only one that had been there.
“The doctors said you could go home today,” Annabeth said. “You just have to sign some release papers and you're good to go.”
“Well then let's call a nurse so I can get out of here,” I clicked the 'call nurse' button.
I didn't actually want to go home. I didn't want to be stuck in an apartment with Calypso the rest of the weekend. I wanted to hang out with Annabeth. But, when Calypso and I got back together it had been a sort of promise. I couldn't just break up with her after two days only to go running to Annabeth. Besides, Annabeth just wanted to be friends – I had to remember that.
By the time the nurse came into the room to hand me the papers, I was starving. Calypso suggested takeout when my stomach rumbled, and I agreed with a yawn. I wanted to invite Annabeth to come with, but I knew she wouldn't have accepted. It would've been awkward with both her and Calypso there anyways.
I did invite Annabeth to catch a ride home with us – and she complied after I told her it wasn't safe for a woman to be walking out on the streets alone; even if she could beat anyone that tried anything into a pulp. I wanted to add 'beautiful' before I said woman, but I didn't. I figured it might cause even more tension between the three of us.
We dropped Annabeth off at Garden Towers before heading to pick up some takeout. I was feeling pretty good until she left the car, the heat of her body next to mine had been enough to keep me awake. Now it was Calypso's cool touch on my elbow – I felt like I might pass out.
We didn't talk much when we got back to my apartment; just ate our food with the news on in the background. I turned my eyes away, as the screen made me feel like I might vomit. I was guessing it was a side effect of the concussion.
After we ate, I stood and told Calypso that I had to go to sleep before I fell over. She giggled and said goodnight after telling me she had met with a landlord today and had gotten her own apartment a few blocks away.
“It's not nearly as nice as this one,” she said. “But you want to take it slow. And I figure living together is not slow, so . . .” her eyes had been questioning, like asking if this was what I wanted.
“Yeah,” I said, a little too loud. “Yeah, I think that's a good idea.”
Then I had retreated to my room.
I didn't sleep. Instead I mulled over what the hell I was doing. A few days ago it had all felt so easy and comfortable with Calypso, all of the sudden it felt forced. It was like I was making myself be with her so I had a reason not to be with Annabeth. How screwed up is that? How dishonest and fickle is that? I was being an awful person, putting myself, Annabeth, and Calypso all through this. Why was I doing this?
I decided that I needed to try a little harder with Calypso. I needed to forget about Annabeth; stop staring at her eyes and smile; stop remembering small details about her. I needed to do everything I was doing for Annabeth, for Calypso. My mom had said that if something was hard, it was most likely good and real. Well, loving Calypso was hard. I needed to put in the time and effort it took to have a relationship – relationships take work.
When I woke up the next day, I headed over to my mom’s house. I hadn't been there since the last time I kissed Annabeth, and she wasn't aware of anything that had gone on the past week. Heck, I wasn't hardly aware of anything that had gone on the past week.
“Calypso came back,” I said as soon as I walked in the door.
Paul wasn't there – he had papers to grade – but my mother was sitting at the kitchen table with a bowl of granola and yogurt. She looked up at me with her mouth full as I turned and locked the door; putting my spare key in my pocket. I didn't know why, but I had never managed to lose the key to my mom's house. It always seemed the reappear in my pocket.
“What?” Sally almost spit out her breakfast.
I repeated my revelation and sat down next to her at the table. My head was swimming from running up the three flights of stairs to get here, but I ignored it.
“When?”
“Wednesday,” I told my mother.
“Why?” she asked again, I had a feeling we would go through all the 'W' words before we were finished.
“To get back together,” I said.
“Wow,” she breathed. Yep, all the 'W' words.
I found myself rattling away the past few days, starting with Calypso and me getting back together. I told her that at first it was simple, and everything was fine. But after yesterday, our relationship seemed hard and rocky and a bit unstable. I told her that I thought about what she'd said, and that I was planning on working for it. I knew nothing was just going to magically work out in my favor, and she seemed to be proud of that.
“What about Annabeth?” she asked when I had finished.
I was still confused over Annabeth. I knew I felt something for her, but I also knew that I had to snuff it out and focus on Calypso. She had very specifically told me that we couldn't be together; that she just wanted to be friends. She didn't like me like that anyways. We were friends.
“She just wants to be friends, mom,” I said.
“Oh.”
I could tell she was a little disappointed. I knew she liked Annabeth like the daughter she had never had – even though she hadn't spent very much time with her. I knew she had been silently rooting for us too. But it was never going to happen. That much was clear in my foggy mind, at least.
“Sorry-”
“Would it be inappropriate to invite her over for dinner? Strictly business, of course,” my mom said. “But I really do like her and I would like to talk to her more.”
I tried for a smile, but I think it came out like more of a sneer. “I think she would love that; you should ask her.”
“Would you come too?”
“Well . . .”
“It might be weird without you, sweetie.” she was trying to guilt me into it.
I groaned. “Ugh, fine. But you have to ask her first.”
“Okay, I will.”
I left shortly after that, telling her Calypso and I had plans. Which, yes, was sort of a lie. But it was only a matter of time before she came to my door, suggesting something to do. All I really wanted to do was sleep my headache off. But sure enough, Calypso was getting out of a taxi at the same time Jake was dropping me off at the doors.
It had only been three days and I already surged with annoyance at the mere sight of her. Calm down, I told myself, you're just tired. Really try for this to work, Percy.
But visions from high school flooded my mind; trying to go out with Grover and Jason but not being able to because Calypso had all but forbid me to do anything without her. She was deadly jealous and could have a mean temper. She was attached to my hip 24/7, and people at school started calling us two headed. I bit my lip to keep myself from saying anything rude.
“Percy?” Calypso squinted her eyes at me. She looked around – probably for another person. Did she really think I had gone out early in the morning with someone? Ugh.
“Where were you?” she asked, following me into the building.
I didn't answer until we were in the elevator. I didn't really want her to come home with me, but I didn't see any other option than to just let her.
“I was at my mom's house,” I said.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”

Annabeth

Calypso wasn't bad. She was actually pretty nice; when she wasn't forcing pain medication down Percy's throat and excessively fussing over him. Percy wasn't the kind of person to want to be fussed over. He wanted to act like everything was okay; that he was fine and didn't need pain medication. If he could play the tough guy, he was perfectly fine.
Percy was also the kind of person who wore his emotions on his face. It was evident in the way his brow scrunched together and his lips turned down as his girlfriend tried to shove a pill in his mouth that he was a little annoyed she had burst in the door like she had. Hell, I was annoyed too.
Spending the afternoon in Percy's hospital room, watching him sleep before he woke up, had been oddly relaxing. Even after he woke up and we had been talking – like we had before Calypso had shown up – it had felt like . . . home, I guess. Which was an odd way to feel about him, considering he was my co-worker.
But I think it was because of that that he felt like home. New York was my home, work was my home, and Percy was familiar to me, so he was also like home. But I brushed it off, I was sure anything from New York would feel like home to me.
The problem was that even though Calypso didn't seem to know Percy all that well, she was so nice she was almost impossible to hate. Which just made me want to hate her more. Other than the fact she obviously found it impossibly ludicrous for me to be working on the same level as Percy, she had been generally sweet when I first met her – and first impressions are everything.
It was Saturday morning, and I was still in bed at eleven – which isn't a natural occurrence for me. I was contemplating whether my long sleep was brought on by work stress, or the fact that I had been awake until four A.M. mulling over Percy and Calypso. I was leaning towards the latter.
Getting out of bed proved harder than normal, and I tried to sit up three times before finally giving up and rolling over the side of the mattress. I brushed my teeth before hopping in the shower, but as I was about to get in, my cellphone rang.
I hiked a towel up over me and skidded back into my bedroom to catch it before it went to voice-mail. It was an unknown number, but the area code was New York, so I answered it.
“Hello?” I said wearily, stifling a yawn. I shouldn't be so damn tired. I slept half the day!
“Annabeth? Is this you?” Sally Jackson's voice came through the phone and I smiled to myself. “Percy said this was your number, but you know how awful his hand-writing is so I wasn't sure-”
“Yes, Sally. This is Annabeth,” I laughed, sitting down on the bed.
In the bathroom, the water was still running. I hoped it wasn't cold by the time I got in.
“Well, Annabeth, I was just wondering if you would like to join us for dinner tomorrow night. We're having a party of sorts and I wanted to invite you. Percy said just to ask – I hope I'm not crossing any lines-”
“Sally, I would love to come,” I said without thinking. It wasn't until after I accepted that I realized Percy would most likely be there with Calypso. Fear caused my words to get stuck in my throat, but I couldn't exactly just back out now that I had told her I would come. Dammit, Annabeth, I thought. Think before you speak next time.
“Great! I'll have Percy send you the address,” Sally said, her smile evident in her voice. “I'll see you tomorrow at seven!”
And with that she hung up. I didn't sit around to think about the impeding Sunday night dinner I was now attending, instead I hurried to the shower before the hot water ran out.
So . . . dinner party with Sally and Paul, Percy and Calypso, and probably some other friends of the Jackson's. This meant dressing up in non-work clothes and putting on non-work makeup and doing something nice with my hair. There were only a few small problems with that. One, I didn't have clothes for anything other than work. Two, I didn't own any makeup other than chap-stick (if that counted) eyeliner I never used, and a tube of mascara I brushed over my lashes every day. Three, I couldn't do hair to save my life.
I guessed that only meant one thing. I would have to go clothes shopping before the grocery store this afternoon. I absolutely dreaded shopping. Last time I'd went I basically had the clerk pick out everything for me to try on. I bought everything that wasn't too showy or revealing – this was work after all. I mostly owned black, white, and gray, with the occasional pink or navy blue.
Once I was out of the shower, I dressed in jeans and a t-shirt and towel dried my hair as I made myself a sandwich for lunch. I called for a taxi and laced up my sneakers before shrugging on a jacket and heading for the elevator.
Walking past Percy's closed door felt weird. Mostly because usually, when I left the apartment, Percy was with me. Today though, he wasn't. Today he was staying in with Calypso because he had a concussion and needed rest. Today I wouldn't see him. But tomorrow would be different. And I was afraid.
The taxi was waiting for me at the front door, and I slid in.
“Manhattan Mall, please,” I told the driver. He nodded stiffly and took off – away from Garden Towers, and away from Percy.

Percy
Garden Towers lived up to its name. There was a secret garden and green house on the roof, which only a few select residents had access too. It was basically, 'if you have money, you can see it' and since I did . . . I could. Calypso asked me about it, and I decided to take her up there.
There were ferns and rose bushes and tall grasses all around the perimeter of the roof. Hydrangeas and lilies and marigolds and lilacs made it smell like heaven. And with the warm autumn sun beating down on the top of the building, it felt like heaven too.
When Calypso wasn't shoving pills in my mouth and babying me to death, I was glad I was with her. Her touch was cool and comfortable as we lay on our backs, watching the sun slowly sink towards the horizon. I'm not sure how long we sat there without speaking, but it gave me some time to think.
I had gotten a text from my mom around noon, saying that Annabeth had agreed to come to dinner the next night. Apparently, she had also invited my cousins, Thalia and Jason, and Hazel and Nico. The rest of the guest list included Paul's parents, one of my mother's good friends from college, and Grover and Juniper. Obviously, 'strictly business' had been tossed out the window as soon as I had left the house.
This left me with one crucial question. Was I going to tell Calypso about it? I knew 'trying' meant being honest with her, and there would've been no question about letting her come if Annabeth wasn't going to be there. I knew Annabeth didn't hate Calypso, but I knew Calypso had jealousy issues. If Annabeth and I so much as shared an inside joke, she would freak. If I touched Annabeth's elbow by accident, or complimented her appearance, she would throw a fit. So the real question was actually, bring Calypso, and avoid Annabeth all night, or don't tell Calypso and risk our relationship.
I didn't want to do either one. Mostly because I was five years away from thirty and was in my first relationship since the end of high school – with the same girl. I didn't want to run out of time, and that's what was happening.
But the thing was, I wanted the right person. If Calypso was going to freak out every time I talked to another female, how was I even going to get through life? How was I going to continue working for my dad?
“Hey Calypso?” I said, going with the first idea I thought of. “I have a business dinner tomorrow night, so we won't be able to do anything.”
“Oh, that's fine,” she said easily. “But do you mind if I go visit you mom for the night then? I would love to see her-”
I panicked.
“Uh- actually, she's got the flu. She doesn't really want anyone over there right now . . .” I mumbled.
“You were there this morning,” she pointed out.
“Just to check on her,” I insisted. “But Paul's there so she's fine.”
Calypso pursed her lips at me. “Well, okay. Some other time then.”
“Totally.”
Okay, yeah. I felt bad about it. Okay, I felt awful about it. But what other choice did I have? I didn't want Annabeth to have an awful night and I didn't want to watch what I said or did the entire time. It was the only option. My head was throbbing from the conversation and the sunlight, and I was ready to go inside and sleep already. But I would feel even worse if I just ditched Calypso.
So I waited until the sun sank below the horizon to tell her I had to go to bed, that I would see her Monday night for dinner, and that I was already counting the hours. Only two of them were true.

Sunday couldn't end fast enough. I tried to waste as much time as I could by brushing my teeth for ten minutes straight – I would've gone longer, but my arm got sore. I took extra-long in the shower, standing under the water until the warm spray turned into a cold trickle. I made my breakfast lazily, and ate it slowly as I laid on the couch and listened to two hours’ worth of news. I went to the grocery store, and wasted about an hour before I couldn't fill my cart up anymore, my legs were sore from walking, and I had a headache from the lights.
I seemed to always have a headache nowadays. Ever since Friday when I had given myself that concussion, there was a constant, dull, throb in my skull. I didn't know how I would handle a loud dinner party that night.
When I got home, I did something that I hardly ever do. Ironed my own clothes. I was always afraid of an iron for two reasons. One, it could severely burn me. Two, I might screw up and make my clothes look even worse. But I sucked it up and tried it just too waste time. I was praying that I wouldn't spill the gross iron water all over my dark blue, collared shirt. I took one look at the black dress pants before muttering, “Screw it” and picking out a pair of jeans to wear my shirt untucked with.
Normally I wouldn't give much thought to what I wore to my mom’s house. Normally I wore the same business suit every day and lounged in basketball shorts all weekend. But this was a dinner party my mom was hosting. I knew what she would tell me if I was ten years old and still living with her. I knew she would want me to look nice.
So when it came time for me to haul myself up out of bed and get changed, I didn't complain. I attempted to tame my always messy hair, but the more I tried, the worse it looked. So at the end I just shook my head around to get it back to its normal state.
“Much better,” I mumbled into the mirror before shoving on a pair of converse my mother would probably hate, but wouldn't say anything about.
It felt like the drive to her apartment building was ten hours long – especially in traffic. It was seven o'clock on Sunday night, which should've meant empty roads; but that was not the case. Jake had the day off, which was really irritating. I hated city driving.
I was beyond terrified that Calypso was going to decide to disregard my warning and show up to my mother's house to find me in the middle of a dinner party. I was also terrified of the very thought that Annabeth was going to be there.
I had told myself to really try to make the relationship between Calypso and I work, but by lying to her, I was being not only a hypocrite, but also a flake. We hadn't even been back together for a week and we were already having problems. Problems that she probably wasn't even aware of. Should this be taken as a sign that we weren't meant to be? Or is it a sign that I just need to try harder? But if we're talking about signs, wasn't her moving to Hawaii all those years ago sign enough?
And then there was Annabeth. There was no doubt in my mind that I was attracted to her; and not just in the physical sense. There was so many things I knew about Annabeth that I didn't know about Calypso. Now that I thought about it, I didn't think Calypso and I had ever been friends. We had been boyfriend and girlfriend, but we never had an actual friendship to base that off of. We were never the couple to just sit and talk about everything and nothing. To be honest, I wasn't even sure what we did do when we were together those four years of high school.
Okay, sure. There were small things I knew about Calypso; like her favorite color. But the fact that she'd had a dog that had gotten hit by a truck wasn't a fact about her specifically. It was a story. It was in the past. It didn't matter anymore. Yeah, it might have made her more sensitive about getting another dog, but she hadn't told me that. That was only something that might happen after losing a pet., and whether or not it had happened to her was not information I had been given. I hadn't been told what the experience had done to her; I hadn't been given the point of the story. All I had was the body of it, no resolution.
Annabeth on the other hand had told me exactly why she hated something when the subject came up. Mac and cheese for example; not only was the texture absolutely revolting to her, when she was younger her step-mom had mixed ground hamburger into the pasta. It would've been good if the hamburger wasn't spoiled. Now, when Annabeth thought of mac and cheese, all that came to mind was the spoiled hamburger and she became sick to her stomach.
I parked on the side of the road, right in front of the entrance to my mom and Paul's building. There were multiple cars already parked - some which I didn't recognize. A taxi pulled up, but didn't park, right behind me. I paused, in the middle of opening the car door, and watched as a certain blonde woman stood up from the back of the cab and walked nervously towards the front door. She stopped halfway there, looking down at her phone. I made a split second decision and flung open the car, not bothering to watch for traffic. `
“You won't need the address,” I said as I walked up behind her.
Annabeth spun around, obviously frightened at my sudden appearance. But when she saw it was just me, her shoulders slumped again and she turned back to her phone. I moved to stand beside her.
“You look nice,” she said, putting her phone in her bag and continuing towards the doors.
I took the time to look her over before I answered. 'Nice' didn't even cut it for her. She was dressed in a navy blue dress that hugged her athletic frame and gave her curves. The color made her skin look darker and her hair brighter, it gave her a sort of glow. She looked even prettier than normal, but I couldn't place what was different about her. She was only a half inch shorter than me in her heels, which was annoying, but I knew how empowered she felt in them so I never said anything.
I kind of stuttered, replying to her with a mumble of, “Thanks, you too,” even though, like I said, 'nice' didn't even begin to describe how she looked.
As I lead her up the first flight of stairs to my mom’s apartment, I realized that we were wearing the same color. My shirt was almost identical in shade to her dress. But while it made her look like a goddess, I probably looked like a sun-bleached mushroom.
“Heels were a bad idea,” Annabeth huffed as we came to the landing in between the first and second staircases. “If I had known there wasn't an elevator I would've worn flats.”
“But then you wouldn't be as tall as me,” I pointed out. “And then what would you tease me about?”
“Oh, I'm pretty sure I could find something,” she told me with a smile. “It's not that hard.”
“You're so nice to me.”
“Like you're any nicer.”
I laughed. I loved our banter.
“I'm sorry you had to take a cab,” I said. “I would've offered you a ride but-”
“But Calypso,” Annabeth put in.
We were still climbing up the steep steps, our legs hurting more every minute. But now there was a strange pain in my chest – which took my mind off of my still pounding head.
“How's your head?” Annabeth asked, echoing my thoughts.
“It hurts like hell.”
She laughed, clutching her side as we approached the third and final staircase.
“Why did you hit it on the table anyways?” she asked, out of breath.
I strained to remember exactly why I had been so stupid in the first place.
“I had a headache-”
“And you thought slamming your forehead on a block of wood was going to make it go away?” Annabeth tried to hide her laughter.
“Well everyone was talking so loud and I felt sick and I don't know . . . it was the first thing I thought to do.”
“Percy,” chills went down my neck when she said my name like that. I wished she wouldn't say my name like that. “Never do the first thing you think to do. The first idea is always the bad ones moving aside for the good ones.”
“You always use the first idea you come up with,” I argued.
“But I'm me, and you're you.”
“Glad we got that out of the way,” I said sarcastically.
“Shut up, Seaweed Brain,” she laughed, elbowing me playfully. “You know what I mean.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “Yeah I do.”
When we finally made it to the third floor, my leg muscles were burning from how steep the steps were. There was at least a foot in between each step – that couldn't be safe. When I started to complain, Annabeth looked like she was about to hit me. She pointed to her heels.
“Excuse me, you crybaby,” she told me. “Why don't you try walking in these? Then I'll let you complain.”
“How are you not complaining?” I huffed.
“Take it like a woman, Percy.”
I figured that would be the best advice I ever got from her.
Paul answered the door, glancing confusedly between Annabeth and me before smiling widely and opening the door for us to enter. I was sure my mom had told him about Calypso, so he was allowed to be confused. Hell, I was confused.
My mom was standing in the kitchen, talking to Paul's parents about something funny. She noticed Annabeth and I as we were walking in, and excused herself from the conversation to walk over to us.
“Hey, sweetheart,” she said, giving me a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
“Hey, mom.”
“Annabeth! It's so good to see you again,” she threw her arms around my co-worker like she was her own daughter. Annabeth looked surprised, but absolutely thrilled. I smiled to myself. I knew she'd never had a lot of maternal affection growing up. I'd had tons of it though, and I was glad that my mother had pulled her under our umbrella.
“You too, Sally,” Annabeth smiled at my mother warmly as she pulled away from the embrace.
“And you look absolutely gorgeous, dear.” My mom echoed my thoughts. I had to forced myself not to admire how pretty Annabeth really did look. I chanted 'Calypso' in my head.
But soon all of my thoughts regarding Calypso were gone, and in their place, nothing. Absolutely nothing.
“How's the company going?” Paul's dad (He had asked me to call him Grandpa Freddy the first time we'd met back when I was in eighth grade) asked.
“It's going really well,” I informed him, leaning against the kitchen counter. “My dad recently hired a Co-CEO to relieve some of the responsibilities, so that's been nice. She's around here somewhere . . .” I looked around the apartment, searching for where Annabeth had run off to. I found her chatting animatedly with Grover and Juniper in the corner opposite of me.
“She's right there,” I pointed her out to Freddy, who whistled.
“She's a pretty young lady, isn't she?” he said, nudging me with his elbow.
I looked at him, smirking. He had wispy gray hair and luminous brown eyes that always seemed to know all the answers. I let out a small laugh, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Yeah,” I muttered. “Yeah she is.”
“Well, son,” he said, settling into the counter. I could tell I was about to get a 'back when I was a boy' story – one probably related to how he'd met his wife/my step-grandmother. “I think you should go for it. My grandfather told me that the first time I ever saw Lucile, and if I hadn't, where would we be now?”
I chuckled to myself a little, realizing I was right in my assumption. “Been there, done that, Grandpa. Didn't work out,” I said, looking at the floor.
Freddy smiled toothily. “They always say that, bud. Maybe you should give it another go?”
“Eh . . . I don't think so.”
I didn't offer any clues as to why.
“Perseus, honey, will you come strain these vegetables for me?” Paul's mom, Lucile, called from the sink.
“Coming,” I said, leaving Freddy and walking across the kitchen.
“Here,” she said.
I was left to figure out how to strain vegetables by myself, as Lucile walked down the hall towards the bathroom without explaining it to me. I must have looked pretty confused, because Annabeth came up to me from the side, laughing her head off.
“Need some help with that?” she laughed. I loved her laugh.
God, Percy, I thought, could you just shut up about how much you love her laugh and focus on these Goddamn vegetables?
“I have no idea what I'm doing,” I admitted, turning my head away from Annabeth's bright eyes.
“That much is obvious.”
She took the strainer from me and dumped the bowl of vegetables into it. Was it really that simple? Holy shit I must've looked like a blithering idiot.
“I don't even cook and I know how to do that,” Annabeth told me, setting the now strained bowl of vegetables back on the counter.
“I think I cook less than you,” I argued.
“I doubt it,” she said. “I almost burnt the house down while attempting to make a grilled cheese once.”
I had no stories about almost burning the house down. All I had was a sucky best friend that walked over and added, “Percy, you're a great cook! You made us that spaghetti and meatballs once and it was super good.”
I shot Grover a look of utter annoyance. Juniper didn't notice and nodded excitedly in agreement.
“Well you guys are no help,” I told them. “I was trying to win an argument.”
“An argument you had no business being in,” My mom put in, laughing. “You've always been a good cook.”
Annabeth leaned closer to me and whispered, “I win.” she laughed when I tried (and failed) to elbow her in the ribs.
“Next time we have a business lunch I'm going to tell your dad to ditch the restaurant and just have you cook for us,” Annabeth told me.
“That won't be good for business – everyone will be going home with food poisoning.”
“Because the food was bad or because you poisoned it?”
“A little of both.”
Everyone around the kitchen laughed, including Lucile who had come back from the bathroom. My cousins, Jason and Thalia, launched into a story about one time when the three of us were left alone in my dad’s mansion.
“Percy insisted he could make us breakfast for dinner – keep in mind we were twelve at the time and had been given strict instructions not to turn the stove on,” Thalia was saying in between laughs.
“Percy!” My mother interrupted, as she was just hearing this for the first time. I put my hands up in surrender, I hardly remembered doing this.
“But even though Jason and I yelled at him-”
Jason cleared his throat. Thalia looked at him, annoyed, but changed her statement.
“Okay, after Jason yelled at Percy and me, we made it anyways. We ended up having to scrub the all-white kitchen with toothbrushes before our dads got home. There was egg mush everywhere, and we all had to shower to get the pancake batter out of our hair. No one found out though.”
“Until now,” I muttered. “It was a really good kept secret, Thalia. Now my mom is going to try and ground me!”
Laughs erupted around the room, and I chuckled.
“I think you're safe,” Annabeth laughed.
“We can't ground you if you don't live with us,” Paul pointed out.
“Oh, yes we can,” My mom said, eying me judgmentally. But her mouth was twisting into a smile, so I knew she wasn't serious.
Hazel and Nico were silently sitting at the table snacking on crackers my mom had put out. They were both quite a bit younger than me, and had come with Thalia and Jason. I was planning on taking them to the Halloween parade the following week. I was looking forward to it more than I had let on – I was going to try and sneak candy from Hazel's bag.
She wouldn't mind though. In fact, she would probably give me candy if I just asked her. I sat across from them at the table.
“Hey guys,” I said, snatching a cracker out of Nico's fingers. “Are you excited for the parade?”
“I was . . .” Hazel said gloomily. “Until my butt of a brother decided he wasn't going to dress up.”
We both looked at Nico in utter disbelief. “Are you kidding me, Nico? You have to! I'm going to.”
“I'm fifteen,” he said it like it was the answer to everything. “I'm too old to dress up.”
“Percy's dressing up,” Hazel said, nodding towards me. “And he's like thirty.”
“Hey!” I exclaimed. “Excuse you, but I am not thirty!”
“Close enough,” Annabeth said behind me.
Turning my head back, I saw she was leaning on my chair, gripping it between her fingers.
“I'm not even close to thirty,” I disregarded her, looking back to my younger cousins.
“You're only five years away,” Hazel laughed.
“Nico's halfway there.”
“But you're closer,” Nico leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his black t-shirt.
“I think you should dress up, Nico,” Annabeth said.
I felt her breath on my neck and I had to bite my tongue to keep from getting up and kissing her. I was with Calypso. I started the chant back up in my head.
“You're only young once. Make the most of it.”
“Are you afraid there'll be cute girls there?” I teased him, poking his shoulder.
“No,” he spit.
“I think he's more afraid of the cute guys,” Hazel giggled.
“Hazel!” Nico scolded.
“Hey,” I put my hands up in surrender. “That's okay too.”
“I'm sure none of the cute guys will mind,” Annabeth said, seemingly unfazed by this new revelation that I was just finding out about.
You'd think I would notice these things.
“Hazel could talk you up like, 'My brother loves Spiderman, maybe you guys could see the new movie together?'” I suggested.
I didn't think it helped until I saw that Nico was holding back a smile. Hazel and Annabeth both laughed. Hazel nudged her brother's shoulder with her own.
“C'mon, Nico. Please?” Hazel begged.
He groaned. “I'll go if Annabeth goes,” he said.
“Ah, a bribe. What do you say, Annabeth?” I said, turning around in my chair to look at her.
She pursed her lips, deep in thought. “Do I have to dress up?”
“Yes,” Hazel, Nico, and I said simultaneously.
She groaned. “Fine, I'll go.” she smiled timidly.
Hazel and I cheered, trying to annoy her. Nico smirked and at back in his chair. I heard my mother calling my name from the kitchen, and I excused myself silently. Annabeth sat down and started talking to Nico and Hazel.
“Will you help me bring food out to the table, Hun?” she asked, handing me a plate of broccoli before hearing my answer.
Annabeth and I set everything out quickly, then everyone took a seat around the too small table in the mismatched chairs my mom had put out. It was almost like Thanksgiving; all of us gathered around the table. My mom had made Thanksgiving food too, which I thought was weird considering it was only October. She would have to make two dinners now.
Jason – who was sitting next to me – reached for the mashed potatoes, but his hand slipped and he ended up punching the mashed potatoes. He screamed, whipping his hand back so hard he punched himself in the forehead. Potatoes dripped from his face and he let out a wail.
Everyone at the table laughed so hard none of us could breathe. Grandpa Freddy's face was so red I was afraid he would pass out. I got up and lead Jason to the bathroom to help clean the mashed potatoes off of his face and shirt.
“I'm such a klutz,” he muttered. “At least Piper wasn't here.”
I handed him a washcloth and leaned against the door.
“Where are her and the boys tonight?” I asked.
“They're with her dad. Piper wanted a night out with some friends and I wanted to come here, so he offered to take them,” he said.
“That was nice of him,” I said.
“Yeah,” he agreed, gloomily whipping creamed starch off his face.
“So what's up with you and Annabeth?” he asked suddenly.
Excuse me?” I stuttered, not even trying to hide my surprise.
“I don't know, you guys seem-”
“I'm dating Calypso again.” I cut in.
He looked at me. I knew what he was going to say, but I wasn't sure how I planned on answering.
“Then why isn't she here?”
I gulped, feeling very sick all of the sudden. I bit my lip. “I- I don't know.”
Jason pursed his lips. His face was now clear of the potato goop, and very serious. He shook her head, then suggested we go back to the table. I didn't say anything, just lead the way.
Once back in the kitchen, it was easy to forget about what Jason had said. Thalia and Annabeth were talking, discussing architecture and design. Hazel and Lucile were having a blast, so was Nico and Freddy. My mom and Paul were talking to her old friend from college – who had apparently just arrived. Jason joined in with Thalia and Annabeth, while I sat next to Grover and Juniper. I asked them about the wedding plans.
“Grover has been such a sweetheart when it comes to all this stuff,” Juniper was saying. “He goes to cake tastings with me and tours venues; he didn't even complain when I took him to get a custom-made suit.”
Grover looked at me out of the corner of his eye as I took a bite of chicken. It was clear in his eyes that, sure, maybe he hadn't complained, but that didn't mean he had enjoyed it.
“Do you guys have a date yet?” My mom asked from the other side of the table. She had started paying attention to our conversation when she heard the word. 'Wedding'. My mother loved weddings.
“We were thinking Valentine's Day,” Grover admitted, blushing. “But we're not sure that gives us enough time to plan.”
“There would be too much to do and not enough time for me to do it all,” Juniper said dejectedly. “I'm just one person.”
“Well, I would be happy to help you!” Sally volunteered. “Actually, I'm sure most of the women at this table would be happy to help also.”
In one sentence, my mother had gotten every female there on board without even asking. Except maybe Hazel – who was only thirteen.
“Really?” Juniper smiled. “That would be amazing!”
Everyone agreed – with the exception of Hazel and Annabeth. The latter sat, silently watching everyone else with a small, but sad smile on her mouth. I pursed my lips.
“What about you, Annabeth?” Thalia asked the girl next to her. “It'll give you some much needed time away from your co-workers.” she winked at her.
“Hey!” I exclaimed. “Why is it that all anyone wants to do around here is pick on me?”
No one paid me any attention. All eyes were on Annabeth, and she looked extremely uncomfortable. I could tell she wasn't really interested in helping to plan a wedding – I knew she wasn't really into that kind of stuff. But I could also tell that having everyone staring at her waiting for her to say yes was not a situation she liked being in.
If I knew Annabeth – and I did – she would agree to it just to get everyone to stop looking at her. Or maybe, she might trick herself into thinking it would be a good way to get out and have fun with other women. It seemed like she never went anywhere but work to me. And that meant being stuck with me all day every day. I wasn't self-loathing, but I knew that couldn't be good for the soul.
“It sounds great,” Annabeth said, proving me right. “I would love to help out.”
Conversation started back up again slowly, but just as I was about to start talking to Thalia about how I was not the one that threatened to drown her cat in second grade, the doorbell rang.
“I'll get it,” I said, standing up from my chair. “That way no one can blame me for anything else.”
I walked through the kitchen towards the front door, not even pausing to think about who it might be. When I flung the door open, my first thought was to shut it again.
Calypso stood on the other side of it, a bouquet of flowers in her hands.

My heart stopped. I contemplated ditching the door and running to the back of the apartment to throw myself out of a window. Or maybe finding a construction site and planting myself right in the way of a bulldozer – resulting in a crushed, me. Really, anything would've been less painful than seeing Calypso's face.
She looked at me quizzically, like she was wondering why I was here, but then she seemed to make up an idea in her head and smiled at me warmly.
“Is your business dinner over?” she asked.
“Uh . . .”
“So you came to check on your mom before you went home?”
I was tempted to lie again. But before I could, a chorus of laughter echoed from the kitchen. Multiple people shouted half-hearted insults at someone – probably Thalia. Calypso's expression changed dramatically.
“I thought your mom didn't want visitors?”
“Well then why are you here?” I didn't mean for it to sound so accusatory and rude, it just kind of came out like that.
“I just wanted to drop off these flowers,” she said, looking hurt by my tone of voice.
Another chorus of laughter.
“Why are there so many people here?” she asked. “Isn't your mom sick?”
There was a sour taste in my mouth; I felt like I could throw up. God, this is why I never lied as a kid. The guilt always ate me up.
Calypso seemed to come to her own realization without my help. She pursed her lips.
“Your mom was never sick was she?” she said, her eyes sad. “You never had a business dinner either.”
“Calypso, I-”
“Is this a party? Did you just not want me to come? You could've just told me, Percy. I would've understood.”
“No I couldn't have just told you, Calypso,” I argued, trying to keep my voice down. “You get so jealous, you would've refused to understand. You would've thought it was just a lie so I could go out a cheat on you.”
“And is that what's happening?” she challenged. “Are you cheating on me?”
“No! Calypso don't you see what you're doing?” I tugged my fingers through my hair.
Noticing that I could no longer hear talking from the dining room, I pushed Calypso out the door and closed it behind us. Stupid family, always eavesdropping.
“I'm not the one that lied, Percy,” she mumbled. She looked like I had just punched her grandma.
I turned my eyes away from her face, looking at my shoes. I hadn't meant to blame it on her I just . . . I don't know.
“Maybe this wasn't the best idea, Percy,” she said after a long silence.
“What do you mean?”
She took a deep breath before starting. “I mean, maybe we grew apart a long time ago. Maybe when I left, it was for the best. Maybe we just aren't meant to be, Percy.”
“Calypso-” I started, but she put up her hand to stop me.
“I've been thinking, and I think I came here under false pretenses. I got on that plane thinking that I was still in love with you, and you were still in love with me. But over the past week I've realized that I moved on a long time ago. And . . . so did you. With Annabeth. Even if you don't see that yet.
“You were my first love, Percy. And it's because I love you that I can't keep pretending that we're the same people we were back then. I'm going back to Hawaii, Percy.”
“Don't leave just because of me, Calypso-”
“I'm not,” she said, smiling sadly at me. “I decided all of this earlier today. I was waiting for the right time to tell you.”
“Oh.”
“Don't pretend like you don't agree-”
“No, I do. I agree with you,” I insisted. “All week I've been trying to force myself to work for it, to work for us. But my heart's just not in it.”
She nodded solemnly. “Goodbye, Percy,” she said. She moved forward and put her arms around me in a hug, kissing my cheek. “It was nice to see you again.”
I smiled at her as she pulled away and handed me the flowers to give to my mom. Then she walked down the hallway towards the stairs.
I stood in the doorway for a few minutes, hearing the talking from inside the apartment slowly get louder. What just happened? I think I was just dumped. My lips tried to turn up into a smile, but I forced them down. I was just dumped! I felt so . . . liberated I guess. I hadn't realized how badly I didn't want to be with Calypso.
I take that back. It wasn't that I didn't want to be with her. Me and her, we had our time back in high school. It was fun, but trying to go back in time and have that again had been a mistake. Calypso had been right, we grew apart a long time ago. When she had left, it was what was supposed to happen. We weren't meant to be.
I let myself smile a little, then turned and reentered the apartment. When I walked into the kitchen, all conversation stopped. Everyone looked at me standing in the doorway – their clear plates forgotten.
“Calypso brought flowers,” I said awkwardly, holding up the bouquet of daisies.
My mother was the first one to react. She stood up, saying, “Well how nice of her!” while taking the flowers from me and searching the room for a vase to put them in.
My eyes accidentally fell on Annabeth. She was looking at me, a confused expression gracing her features. She looked pretty (like always) like that; with her head cocked to one side and her mouth pulled up a bit at the corners. I almost scolded myself internally for thinking about her looks, but then I remembered that I could think whatever I wanted to now. I smiled at her. She raised an eyebrow at me, and I had to swallow my laugh.
Once my mom came back to the table from putting Calypso's flowers in a vase of water, conversation started back up easily. I picked up where I left off from defending myself from my cousin's abuse.
“I never threatened to drown your cat, Thalia,” I said sternly. Annabeth's face was red from laughter. “I did threaten to shave your head in your sleep at the cabin once. But it was justified.”
“What could she have done to deserve that?” Annabeth asked, still chuckling. “She has a hella good head of hair – that would've been evil.”
“Thanks, girl,” Thalia nudged the girl next to her with her elbow, smiling.
“Don't defend her! She killed my goldfish!”
“Oh that is not true and you know it, Jackson,” Thalia spit. “You kill goldfish faster than it takes me to say the word, irresponsible.”
“How many did you kill again, Percy?” Grover piped. “Wasn't it like . . .? Ten?”
“Close. It was sixteen,” Sally Jackson joined the conversation, and soon the entire table was laughing at my misfortune.
“I never even had fifteen goldfish,” I said. I leaned back in my chair cockily, sure that I had won the argument.
“Not at one time,” my mom said. “But over the course of your childhood you did.”
“You kept count?!”
“I bought you two goldfish every year from the time you were four, until you were eleven and decided you wanted video games instead.”
“How consistent,” Hazel noticed.
“Consistency is key for a healthy childhood.”
“And me killing all the goldfish was consistent. So . . . that means I was healthy,” I argued.
“Killing goldfish is not healthy,” Annabeth said.
I groaned, tired of how everyone was making fun of me. “Can we pick on Thalia or Grover instead? Why is it always me?”
Grandpa Freddy clapped me on the back, chucking like Santa Claus. “Its how we show our love, kiddo.”
“Well it's shitty.”
“Percy!” my mother scolded. “Language!”
That sent everyone laughing again, naturally. I sank in my chair, probably beet red from the embarrassment of my mother telling me to watch my mouth.
The rest of the night passed quickly. Our guests left slowly, in pairs of two until it was just my mother and Paul, with Annabeth and me. I had told Annabeth I would give her a ride home. I could tell my mom was itching to know what happened with Calypso, but she probably didn't know if she could ask with Annabeth around.
“Calypso and I broke up,” I said, right as we were about to walk out the door.
My mom and Paul both looked at me in shock. I could sense Annabeth's wide eyes on me, but I didn't look over to her.
“What do you mean? It hasn't even been a week,” my mom said.
“We decided that we were pushing something that had ended years ago,” I explained. “She's moving back to Hawaii.”
“Oh,” the three of them said collectively. I nodded.
An awkward silence settled across the room for an immeasurable amount of time. Then I said, “Well, we have to get up for work tomorrow . . . so,”
We both hugged my parents, promising to see them soon. Then I lead Annabeth back down the steps to the street.
We didn't talk until we were halfway home.
“I'm sorry about Calypso,” she said, so quietly I wasn't sure I had heard her.
“It's okay,” I muttered. “I wasn't all that into it, anyways.”
The light from the dashboard illuminated Annabeth's heart-shaped face harshly, casting dark dramatic shadows over her cheekbones. It made her look even more intimidating and scary than usual – although she was only intimidating because she was beautiful. I kept my eyes on the road.
“Then why did you do it?”
“Hmm? Do what?”
“Get back together with her.”
I sighed, knowing the answer but not wanting to tell her.
The truth was, I had thought Calypso would be a good distraction from Annabeth. I had made the mistake of thinking that I could force away my feelings for the latter by drowning myself in the former. It was a stupid, fuckboy move. I was ashamed.
“I don't know,” I lied. “But I'm sorry for the riff it put between us.”
“Me too,” Annabeth mumbled.
I let the silence stretch on until we were back in the hallway outside of our apartments.
“Friends again?” I said sheepishly.
Annabeth hesitated. I made a mock-horrified face. She laughed.
“Friends.”
She held her hand out for me to shake. I obliged, but I couldn't ignore the thrill that went through me when she held my hand.
“Goodnight, Seaweed Brain,” she called over her shoulder as she turned to disappear behind her apartment door.
“Night, Wise Girl,” I said, trying to make it sound offensive.
It didn't necessarily work.

Things were easy between Annabeth and me over the next week. I was happier now that I didn't have to force myself to spend time with Calypso every night, and Annabeth seemed to be happier too. We brainstormed ideas as what we would dress up as for the Halloween parade. I told her we should be a chicken and an egg, but she laughed and told me that was dumb.
“Best friends are supposed to dress up as dumb things together, though!” I whined.
“Since when are we best friends?” she raised a brow at me, but I could see in her eyes that she didn't mind the label.
“Since you agreed to come to this parade and dress up. Now please?”
“No, Percy,” she laughed.
“Fine,” I huffed. “Will you cry if I ask you to wear a superhero shirt?”
“No, I think I can deal with that,” she said. “As long as I get to be Superwoman.”
We had petty arguments and had lunch together and talked in the car. It was almost like it had been in San Francisco. I yearned for the days when there had been no awkward sexual tension between us. Before we had made out. Not before the first kiss, because things had been surprisingly better after that. But in the time between that first kiss and we had ended up on the floor, those were the weeks I had felt most comfortable with Annabeth. Not that I didn't feel comfortable now.
A few times a day, I would find myself accidentally leaving my eyes on her for too long. She would look up and meet my gaze, with a questioning look in her eyes. But all too soon I would look away and change the subject. It was agonizing; wanting to touch someone's cheekbone with the back of your hand, but knowing you couldn't. And I couldn't. Because she didn't feel this way about me. She didn't want to hold my hand or kiss me. She just wanted to be friends. And it killed me.
On the day before Halloween – it was a Friday – Annabeth and I went out after work to find our superhero shirts. We scoured Target, Party City, and even Walmart to find them. But no luck. Apparently nobody over ten years old bought superhero t-shirts.
Finally, after searching through the list of stores Siri suggested, I came across an adult Halloween costume store.
“That doesn't sound like the kind of place we want, Percy . . .” Annabeth said, warning evident in her tone.
I gripped the wheel. “What do you mean? It says it's for adults.”
“I'm not sure that means what you think it means.”
After Annabeth briefly explained to me what she meant, I felt really stupid. I was sure my face was red, as I felt the heat rush to my cheeks.
“Yeah . . . let's just go to K-mart.”
I never would've thought it would be K-mart that had what we were looking for. But sure enough, there was an entire section of superhero themed shirts. Annabeth got a red one with the Superwoman sign on it; she looked really great in it too, as the bright red made her hair shimmer gold. I decided in that moment that she could probably put on any color and be able to pull it off. While I was sitting here looking like a sun-bleached mushroom in every color on the color wheel.
I really wanted an Aqua-man t-shirt, but apparently he wasn't popular enough to acquire the marketing team all the other superheroes had. Annabeth and I agreed to keep with the D.C. Theme and have me be Superman.
“It's the perfect costumes for best friends,” Annabeth smiled mockingly at me. She nudged my elbow as I got out my wallet to pay.
“I still think a chicken and an egg would've been better . . . “I looked at the cashier; she was smiling.
“Don't you think that would've been a lot cooler?”
“Please don't tell him yes,” Annabeth begged the woman. “He'll never stop talking about it.”
“I think it depends on what you're shooting for,” the woman said. “If you want to be the weird couple, do the chicken thing. If you want to be the cute couple, I'd say stick with these.” she held up the bag of shirts and handed them to Annabeth.
“Oh, we're just friends,” Annabeth smiled.
My stomach twisted, but I forced a smile onto my face. That word was going to be the death of me. I swear . . .
“If you say so,” the cashier woman smiled grudgingly at us as we made to leave the store.
“I can't believe you're making me go to this parade . . .” Annabeth trailed off as she got into the passenger seat.
I put the car in reverse and backed out of the parking space before answering.
“Hey, you agreed to come of your own free will-”
“I did not, Nico manipulated me with those sad puppy dog eyes.”
“Don't blame the kid,” I laughed. “You probably just wanted to dress up and hang out with me.”
“Now why would I want to do that? You're annoying,” she said.
“That's not true,” I said with fake confidence. “I'm adorable and lovable.”
“In your dreams, Aqua-boy,” Annabeth chuckled. “I get enough of you at work.”
“It's Aqua-man,” I corrected her, stressing my words. I purposely ignored her latter statement, as she was smiling as she said it. I found myself reliving the past week in my head.
“Whatever, Seaweed Brain,” Annabeth dismissed my correction with a flick of her wrist, then turned her attention to watch the city fly by as we made our way back to Garden towers. Although she was obviously over our banter, I wasn't.
“Wise Girl,” I mumbled, watching out of the corner of my eye for her response. Because of this, I didn't necessarily see the traffic light turn red. A chorus of cars honking brought my gaze back to the road.
“Keep your eyes on the road, stupid!” Annabeth scolded, hitting my shoulder.
I almost swerved the car on purpose, thinking it would make her stop hitting me. But then my common sense kicked in and I figured we would probably die if I did that. I couldn't die yet, so I settled for scolding her back.
“If you keep smacking my arm like that I'm going to lose control of the car and send us spinning into Macy's.”
“Oh shut up, Percy. Just drive,” Annabeth said, giggling.

The next morning, Annabeth and I were up and out of Garden Towers early in order to pick up Hazel and Nico in time to get to lunch before the parade. It was a relatively silent car ride, filled with the music Annabeth had brought.
“Since we'll be driving so long,” she'd said, holding up her iPod. “I don't want to have to talk to you longer than I need to.”
“Wow, thanks,” I'd replied sarcastically.
Hazel and Nico lived with their dad, an hour out of the city limits. The parade was taking place an hour out of the city limits too . . . but on the other side of the state. Luckily, the parade didn't start until three. So we had more or less five hours to pick them up and get lunch before heading to the suburbs.
Annabeth and I – both clad in our superhero t-shirts – ate Panera bagels on the way to Hazel and Nico's house, singing Green Day with our mouths full. We ended up laughing our heads off after I tried holding a long note with a huge bite of bagel in my mouth and ended up almost choking to death. It was a good thing there was no one else on the road, otherwise we would've gotten into a crash. After that, we turned the music down and discarded the rest of our breakfast.
“I hope it doesn't rain,” Annabeth mumbled as she looked out the window at the overcast skies.
“It won't,” I promised, noticing the swirling black and gray clouds for the first time that morning.
“I'd rather not end up with soggy denim . . .” Annabeth picked at her jeans, which were straight-legged and rolled up to her ankles. I supposed she probably had to roll up any jeans she wore, considering her legs were so long, most pants were capris on her.
“I think wet shoes are worse,” I said, thinking of my sneakers and how awful it would be if the rain ruined them. Although I supposed I could just buy new ones.
“Are you serious? You'd rather walk in wet jeans than step in squishy shoes? Wet jeans cause chafing,” Annabeth said.
“Why do you always have to argue with me? Why can't we have different opinions?” I asked jokingly.
“Because I like annoying you too much,” she said seriously.
I glanced over at her, smirking.
“You find joy in pushing my buttons?”
“Don't pretend like you don't do the same with me,” She cocked her head at me, unbelieving.
I sighed. “That's only because you're so fun to annoy.”
“So are you,” Annabeth pressed.
“I think you are more.”
“No . . . you're way more fun to annoy than I am.”
“I don't think so.”
“I know so.”
“No, cause-”
“Percy,” Annabeth held up her hand, starting to laugh. “Are we really arguing over which one of us is more fun to annoy?”
I laughed, keeping my eyes on the road. “I'm just trying to annoy you.”
She laughed too, but didn't say anything. She was probably trying to avoid us bickering about the same thing again. She smiled softly as she gazed out the window.
It didn't take that much longer to get to Hazel and Nico's house. Once there, all I had to do was honk the horn once and they came barreling out of the front door, tripping over each other to get the front seat. When they saw that Annabeth was there, realization dawned on their faces and they both climbed in the back.
“I forgot Annabeth was coming along,” Hazel admitted, snapping her seat-belt into place. “No offense, Annabeth,” she added; always worried about being polite.
“Its fine, Hazel,” Annabeth laughed. “I would've forgotten too if Percy wasn't bugging me 24/7 about our costumes . . .”
“But aren't they cool?” I exclaimed, waving towards Annabeth and I's t-shirts.
“Very,” Hazel agreed, then pointed to a paper bag Nico was holing in his lap. “We're changing into ours after lunch.”
“What are you dressing up as?” Annabeth asked, turning around in her seat towards them.
Her hair brushed my arm. The scent of lemon bombarded my nose. I had to breathe through my mouth and glue my eyes to the road, breathing slowly, so I wouldn't bury my head in her neck.
Hazel told Annabeth that she was being a Flapper from the 1930's. Annabeth obviously thought that was the coolest thing ever and launched into a deep conversation about the 30s. Nico didn't even get to tell her what his costume was, as the entire car ride Hazel and Annabeth continued the conversation. I met Nico's eyes in the mirror. He rolled his eyes and I shrugged like, what can you do?
I was overly glad that my teenage cousins weren't basic teenagers. They didn't ask for fast-food for lunch, but instead, they wanted Greek. Lucky for them, I knew a fantastic Greek place right on the edge of the city. It would be a shorter ride to the parade route from there.
“What's your costume, Nico?” I asked my cousin as we sat down in the booth. The girls were on both sides on the inside of the booth, and Nico slid in next to his sister. That left me to sit right next to Annabeth, who was still talking to Hazel animatedly about the 30s.
Nico settled into his seat and grimaced at me.
“Hazel thought it would be funny to get me a skeleton costume – even though it's so humid out . . . especially for Halloween,” he said.
“Yeah, it is pretty sticky out there,” I agreed. “It looks like it might rain.”
“I sure hope so,” Nico sighed. “I'm going to need it to cool me off.”
I nodded in agreement.
Lunch was sort of awkward for me. With Annabeth and Hazel talking about the pros and cons of Jazz music, and a goth kid that didn't talk much, I was basically left to twiddle my thumbs and stare at the menu until the waiter came.
Once we all ordered, Annabeth started digging in her bag – which was in between us – to find a picture of her great-however-many-times grandma to show Hazel. Her hair once again brushed my arm and I yanked my hand back reflexively. She looked up at me from under her long lashes and smiled in apology.
“Sorry . . . Long hair sucks sometimes,” she said.
“No,” I assured her, trying not to blush. “Its fine – it just tickled and it scared me, that's all.”
“It scared you?” Annabeth laughed, moving her bag to the other side of her, leaving the small space between us empty.
I tried not to think about the heat radiating off of her and onto me since my two kid cousins were sitting across from us. But they seemed to be talking quietly about the parade.
“I get scared easily?”
“Oh, yeah,” Annabeth nodded. “Like the time I taped that air-horn under your office chair. He screamed like a baby.” she turned towards Hazel and Nico with the last sentence, as they were listening intently now.
“I did not,” I said, narrowing my eyes at her.
“Did you really?” Hazel asked Annabeth, her eyes alight.
Annabeth nodded. “Then he shoved my face into a chocolate cake.”
“Ooooo,” Nico said, visibly trying not to laugh.
“Percy!” Hazel scolded me.
“She taped an air-horn under my chair! I almost had a heart attack!”
“So you shove a cake in her face?”
“Well-” I stammered, looking for a better excuse. When I didn't find one, my shoulders dropped and Hazel and Annabeth both gave me victorious smiles.
“Why do I never win any of the arguments we have?” I asked Nico. He shrugged.
“It's not your fault you weren't on the debate team in high school,” Annabeth leaned back in the booth and crossed her arms over her chest. Her lips were set in a straight line.
“Maybe I was,” I challenged.
Annabeth looked to my cousins. Nico and Hazel both shook their heads in sync.
“Hah,” Annabeth taunted.
We argued about why I never win arguments until our food came. Which, in hindsight, is a pretty stupid thing to argue about. But, it was me and Annabeth. We argued over stupid things all the time.
We ate quickly, since our time was running out and we needed to get to the town the parade was in to find a good place to stand and watch. The drive there was quiet, and I eyed Nico and Hazel in the backseat, both picking at their costumes. Annabeth voiced her concern over the clouds again, but I told her it would probably be fine.
The parade route was going through the entirety of a quaint, little suburb city. We decided on setting out a blanket to sit on in the downtown area – right outside the cafe that sold ice cream cones for a dollar. I told Nico I would buy him ice cream after the parade to cool him off, but he had his skull mask on and I couldn't see his face.
Downtown was crowded with families. Parents sat in lawn chairs in the grass, kids sat on the empty curb, dressed in their costumes and clutching plastic bags and pillow cases. Teenagers drifted through the crowds, laughing with their friends and eating the ice cream I so desperately wanted.
“Stop staring at that ice cream like it's the love of your life, Percy,” Annabeth said, nudging me with her elbow.
“I do not drool when I look at the love of my life,” I insisted, not thinking.
“How do you look at them then?” Hazel piped, forcing me to tear my eyes off of the ice cream and look at her.
“It's more of an 'IT' than a 'WHO',” I chuckled.
“Don't tell me its pizza,” Nico groaned. “I don't want to be related to a guy that calls pizza the love of his life.”
“Pizza's pretty good though,” Annabeth defended me a little, but she still looked disappointed in me.
“It's not pizza,” I assured them. “It's Mexican.”
“So . . . tacos,” Annabeth said.
I laughed. It was almost scary how well she knew me.
“Exactly,” I said. “What kind of a friend would I be if I took the love of your life away from you?”
Annabeth's eyes twinkled, as if she was thinking about the pepperoni pizza with extra olives she loved so much.
The four of us made small talk while waiting for the parade to start. We only had a few minutes left, but the humidity was getting unbearable. Nico pulled off his skull mask, revealing a very red face. I told him he ruined the costume, but Annabeth and Hazel both hit me and told Nico that it didn't matter – as long as he didn't die of heat exhaustion.
The parade was pretty boring. It was nothing like the Macy's Day Parade in the city – although I hadn't been expecting it to be, once you see that every year for your entire life, nothing pales in comparison. But Hazel and Nico seemed to have fun, even if Hazel and I had to force Nico to rush to the curb and grab the candy off the street. He grumbled, obviously doing it only for the sake of his sister.
Annabeth's fingers brushed my hand more times than I could count. As she moved to press her hands against Nico's back, urging him to not be embarrassed and to just go get the free candy. By the middle of the parade, I really just wanted to hold her hand. But more than that, I wanted to kiss her again. It had been so long since we'd gotten home from California, I'd nearly forgotten what her lips felt like.
It wasn't until the parade was close to being over that it started to rain. At first it wasn't bad, just a drizzle of water that anyone could stand. But soon, we were in the middle of a downpour. The people walking the parade dashed for cover under awnings or inside the businesses that lined the streets. Families ran to the houses behind the storefronts or joined everyone else in the buildings. Hazel and Nico ran into the ice cream shop, yelling behind them at me to buy them ice cream. Annabeth made to follow them, picking up our soaked blanket and trying to fold it as rain water fell down her face.
Her hair was wet and stringy, and I figured mine was too, but she still looked beautiful. A stand of it got caught in her mouth, and she reached up to move it away, her soaked shirt wrinkling as she did so. As she hiked the blanket up under her arm and looked to me in confusion, probably wondering why I hadn't run for cover yet, I had the not-so-sudden urge to kiss her.
“C'mon, Perce,” she started walking, but I grabbed her wrist.
She whipped her head around, narrowing her eyes at me. The rain had gotten caught in her lashes, and they glittered. She raised her eyebrows at me.
“Wait, I-” I gulped.
What was I doing? We were standing in the middle of the sidewalk, during a thunderstorm (a large blast of thunder had just rolled through the town). What was I planning on saying? She'd already told me she just wanted to be friends, why couldn't I just get that in my head? Why did I have to do this? Especially right now, when probably hundreds of people had their eyes on us, wondering what the hell we were doing.
But even if there was a hundred people watching us, all I could see was her. Standing in front of me, looking at me like she knew what I was going to do. I leaned towards her, barely hearing the clap of thunder and the pill of the rain on the sidewalk. In that moment, I didn't care that my two teenage cousins were probably watching us from inside the diner, I wasn't even thinking about them.
Annabeth's eyes fluttered closed, but I paused a few inches from her face.
“Annabeth,” I said, though I doubt she heard me over the rain. “I-”
She opened her eyes again and looked at me through the droplets of water still on her lashes. I didn't know what to say. What was I supposed to say?
“I like you,” I said, which, in hindsight, is a pretty lame thing to say in such a moment.
Annabeth reached out with the hand that wasn't holding the blanket and grabbed my hand. She intertwined our fingers, and when I looked down to make sure it was real, my heart clenched. It hit me like a ton of bricks. I had never felt anything so right. But what did it matter if-
“I like you too,” Annabeth chuckled. “God, that sounds so middle-school.”
“But-?”
If she didn't feel the same way. That's what I was going to think, but . . . now.
“But it doesn't change anything,” Annabeth said, drawing her hand away from mine and taking a step back. I longed for her to take my hand again, but I knew she wouldn't. And I knew she wouldn't appreciate it if I grabbed hers again either. She was trying to make a point.
“We're co-workers, Percy. And-” she paused, looking around us. “And why are we having this conversation in the middle of the street? Where it's wet and rainy?”
“Uh . . .”
Annabeth sighed and pulled me by my shirt sleeve out of the rain and under the awning of the diner. The dryness shocked me, and I realized how cold and wet I was. My shirt clung to my skin; my hair dripped down my neck; and my socks were squishy in my sneakers. Annabeth was soaked too – although she still looked stunning besides. I knew she was probably itching to change into jeans that weren't sopping with rain water, but she would have to wait. It took me a moment to realize that Annabeth was still talking.
“It's against your dads policy for employees to have romantic relationships, Percy, so even though we . . . it doesn't matter because we'll both end up hurt and out of a job and there's no point in putting either one of us through that. You have to understand that, don't you, Percy? I mean, I know it's difficult, I just-”
I kissed her. I didn't know what else to do. I just took her face in my hands and pressed my lips against hers. It wasn't a long kiss; it wasn't like the one we had shared in the hallway/Annabeth's apartment so many weeks ago. But it was enough.
Annabeth didn't push me away. I could tell she was trying not to relax, not to kiss me back. But I could also tell she wanted to. Her fingers fluttered around my wrists like she wanted to move them from her face to her waist. But she didn't.
I pulled away. Red faced and freezing and completely soaked to the bone, but elated. I knew what she was going to say. I could see it in her eyes. In the way she smiled sadly at me. I didn't want her to say it. She was going to say it. Please don't say it, I begged with my eyes.
“That doesn't change anything, Percy,” she said. I cursed internally. “As much as I wish it did . . . it doesn't.”
“You're killing me, Annabeth,” I sighed, raking a hand through my wet hair and leaning against the building. I was glad that we weren't straight in front of the window.
“I know,” she said quietly.
Thunder rolled across the sky, rumbling so loud I could feel it in the pit of my stomach. Or was that something else? Maybe it was. I think it was dread.
Dread that no matter what I did, nothing would change. Dread because no matter what either of us felt, it wouldn't matter. Dread because I was standing in front of this wonderfully fierce, intelligent woman, and my fingers burned to wind themselves into her stand of wet hair. To hold her to my chest. To clutch her hand. To kiss her.
I wanted her in every way. Every damn innocent way there was.
There was a long silence between us. Neither of us knew what to say. Until finally, she suggested timidly that we go inside and get Hazel and Nico that ice cream I promised them. I nodded solemnly and followed her inside.
We both pretended like nothing happened at all.

The next three weeks went by so fast it felt like a dream. Annabeth and I avoided each other as much as possible, only talking when necessary. I still had Jake drive us to work together, but instead of small talk and playful banter, our car rides were full of empty silence and bad pop music. Jake asked me what happened between to two of us after the end of the first week, I mumbled something about a bad mood and walked away.
The new headquarters Annabeth had originally been hired to design was finished on time – which made my father happy. We moved in November first, and I had to admit it was pretty great. Annabeth had done a fantastic job designing the new building, even if listening to her talk about the plans in the beginning of the summer had been my own living hell. I told her how beautiful her design for our office was, and she blushed and murmured a thank you.
And it really was beautiful. There was a wall of windows on one side of the room, with a beautiful view of the city. The desks the interior designer had picked out were nice, but pretty dull. I figured Annabeth could've done a better job. Kate liked her new office too – which was actually a room right across from the elevator instead of a desk in the lobby.
We were working on the very top floor, which made me sick. But the view was enough to cure anyone of a fear of heights.
There was only one time during those weeks when I really felt like I might explode from the silence – although there was really nothing I could think to say. We were sitting in our office, both working at our separate desks on different sides of the room. I asked her a question about the document we were looking over, and she looked up to meet my eyes.
An immeasurable amount of time passed, but we just sat across from each other and stared. Her eyes were big, bright, and sad; I figured mine looked the same. I wanted to say something, anything to break the silence. But I didn't.
She looked away first. She cleared her throat and answered my question while looking down at her hands. I sighed inwardly.
Other than that, nothing happened. Annabeth mentioned in passing that she was going over to Juniper's house with my mother and Thalia to help with the wedding plans. Grover and she were still shooting for Valentine's Day, and with three extra sets of hands, they figured they would have everything ready in time. Grover called me two weeks after Halloween.
“I have a question for you, Percy,” he said after we had chatted for a while. “And I wanted to ask you in person but . . . I figured this would be the easiest way to do it.”
“What can I do for you, man?” I asked, picking at my dinner uninterestedly.
It had been a long, slow, day. It had been the particular day that Annabeth and I had met eyes across the office, so I was more upset than usual. I'm sure Grover could tell by my tone, but maybe he thought his question would cheer me up. It did . . . a little bit.
“Would you be my best man?” he asked timidly.
Surprisingly, I actually cracked a smile.
“Of course, man! I would be an honor.”
“Thank you, Percy! Oh, I'm so excited-”
He went on to tell me about all the things they had planned and booked already. I was happy for him. I really was. But I couldn't help but be jealous about how easy everything had been for him and Juniper. They liked each other, fell in love, and now they were getting married. Why couldn't things ever be that easy for me?
There was a part of me that wanted to quit my job, just let Annabeth be CEO. At least then maybe we could be together. Maybe then we wouldn't have to push each other away and ignore each other’s existence. Maybe then I could kiss her without thinking of the consequences or hold her hand without risking her getting fired.
But I knew that quitting my job wasn't the answer. I mean, I would have money from my dad, but I had no skills. I hadn't finished college; there was nothing I would even want to do. I would become an invalid. I would also probably gain fifty pounds and forget how to walk. None of those things would be helpful.
So I lived my life. Weeks going by so quickly I felt like I couldn't focus on what anyone was saying. I went to the grocery store, and hung out with Grover, and even went to my mom’s house a few times. It was an uneventful three weeks, and by the end of it, I was ready to pull my hair out. Little did I know, I was about to have a very eventful three days.
It was forty-eight hours until Thanksgiving Day, and I was preparing myself for a sad, tired, day with my mom, step-father and cousins. My family – being the nice people they were – had put me in charge of the turkey, still claiming I was the best cook. I wasn't planning on messing it up, but if they got sick the next day, it wasn't my fault.
I had to ask the lady at the meat counter how to cook a turkey – since I had never done it. So I went to the 24 hour grocery store before work, since I didn't have time after. My mother called me on the way back to Garden Towers – turkey in hand.
“Hey, mom,” I said into the phone, watching out the window at the early morning traffic. It was before eight, but there were still many cars out and about.
“Hey . . .” she said, sounding a little nervous. I was terrified of what she would say, and I think I knew what that was.
Over the past three weeks, I had spent a lot of weekends with my mom and Paul. After the second time, my mom had been able to force me to choke out what had happened between Annabeth and me. She'd been overly maternal, telling me it was okay to cry. I didn't want to shove her away, because I liked her hugs, but I told her there was no way in hell I was going to cry over it. To which she replied, “Watch your mouth, Percy.”
Now she paused, and I waited in silence for her to speak.
“What is it mom?”
“Well, I-” she sighed. “We – Paul and I – were talking and . . . we wanted to invite Annabeth over for Thanksgiving dinner. Since, well . . . since she doesn't have any family near, we just thought it would be nice-”
“Mom,” I said, but she kept talking.
“So we were wondering if you could ask her. Maybe she could-”
“Mom,” I said again.
“Bring some cranberry sauce or something.”
“Mom why don't you just ask her? Why do I have to do it?” I asked, a little too harshly.
“Because-”
“We're not really on great terms right now, mom,” I snapped. “I doubt she'll want to come.”
“But, Percy, if you could just try . . . maybe things will change for the better?”
“I don't think that'll happen.”
“Percy-” she didn't say anything but my name, but she sounded so desperate and willing to help, and I didn't want to outright refuse to ask. So, in the end, I agreed to ask her later that day at work. She thanked me, obviously put off with my attitude, and hung up.
When we got back to Garden Towers, Annabeth was waiting at the front door. I slid over in the seat, making room for her in the back. She was dressed in her usual work clothes, but her hair was pulled up out of her face in a ponytail. I liked how it curled down her back, small ringlet strands falling in her eyes.
“Morning,” I pushed the words through my lips, gulping.
“Morning,” she said back, not choosing to look at me.
We didn't speak the entirety of the car ride to the office. I thought about bringing up Thanksgiving, but I decided to wait until we got to the office. Once we got to the office, I decided to wait until lunch. I figured I would keep pushing it out until I just had to tell my mom I had forgotten about it in all the hype of the day. But then I felt bad for even thinking that was an option.
Although my plan of asking her at lunch flew out the window when she stood and announced she was meeting someone for lunch at Monte's. So, I settled on a sandwich and coffee from Subway. I ate my food inside the restaurant, not wanting to go back out in the bitter cold, and not wanting to return to the office – which was just around the corner from the sandwich shop. I left my coffee untouched, waiting for it to cool.
These days, my mind was a simultaneously empty and full place. So many thoughts crowded my brain that I ignored them all, which resulted in an empty head. I fingered the paper my sandwich had been wrapped in absentmindedly until my watch buzzed.
Dreading walking back outside, I stood and threw my garbage away before shrugging my coat on and pushing the door open. I kept my hot coffee in my hands, letting the warmth spread from my hands and up my arms. I shivered as the harsh wind bit at my nose.
New York was obviously getting ready for the holidays. Christmas lights were already strung through the nearly dead trees, and you could sense that thing in the air. That feeling. The feeling that everyone was looking forward for Thanksgiving Day – just for the Macy's Day Parade. I had to admit, I was pretty excited too.
My entire life, my mom and I – and eventually Paul – would get up before the sun on Thanksgiving Day and walk down to the plaza. We were never in front, and my mom usually had to hold me on her shoulders so I could see, but we always had loads of fun. It was one of my favorite childhood memories. One I still clung too dearly, since I still made my parents do it every year – although now I didn't need my mom to hold me up.
I wrapped my coat around me tighter as the wind blew hard. My hair – which I could admit needed to be cut – fell into my eyes. But I made no move to flick it away. Instead, the wind blew it back into place after a minute.
When I opened the door to the office, a gust of hot air flew onto me. I unbuttoned my coat automatically, smiling at the receptionist. I took the elevator to the top floor, leaning against the railing with the hand that wasn't gripping my coffee.
I sauntered out of the elevator, keeping my eyes on my shoes. I noticed the lace on my left shoe was untied, but I didn't bend to tie it. Instead I stared at it, making sure I wouldn't step on it.
But then something happened. Kate laughed loudly into the phone, and I missed my step. My foot landed right over the stray shoelace, and I tried to keep walking without realizing it. I tumbled forward, crashing into another body, losing my grip on my coffee cup. There was a loud grunt – which probably came from me – and I landed on the tile floor on my backside.
Pain shot through my legs and up my back. I rubbed the small of my back as I sat up, groaning. When I opened my eyes, which had closed when I fell, I saw none other than Annabeth sitting across from me, looking very, very, angry. Hot coffee had been spilled all over her shirt, soaking the white collared blouse she was wearing, making it see-through. I averted my eyes from her black bra, thinking it a sort of invasion of her privacy.
I could practically see the steam coming from Annabeth's ears. She bit her lip – probably trying not to cry out from the pain of having hot coffee spilled all over her – and took deep, steady, breaths. I located my now empty coffee cup by her leg, and I picked it up gingerly before tossing it in the trash can by Kate's open door.
Kate had, of course, seen the entire thing. She covered her mouth with her hand and came rushing out of her office. She helped Annabeth up, dusting her off and fussing over her ruined shirt. I grumbled as I pushed myself off the ground.
Once Kate was sure Annabeth was fine, she smiled sweetly at me and disappeared back into her office. Annabeth looked at me like she might bite my head off.
“I'm so sorry,” I said quickly. “I didn't see you and I tripped over my shoelace-”
“Save it, Percy,” she mumbled. “It's whatever.”
She made to walk back to our office, her high heels clapping on the tile floor. I followed her timidly, scared she might change her mind and punch me in the face. I grabbed her wrist.
“Annabeth,” I said. We were stopped in the middle of the hallway now, closed doors filled with empty tables and chairs around us. I let go of her wrist. “It's not 'whatever'. Normally you would be pissed that I ruined your shirt, why so mellow all of the sudden?”
She stayed silent, gulping. She didn't seem to want to talk today.
“At least let me buy you a new shirt,” I offered. She shook her head.
My stomach rolled when she turned away. My heart fell when she walked back into our office. And my chest tightened when the door closed with a loud click.
I followed her into the office.
“Hey,” I said when the door closed. “So my mom was wondering if you wanted to come over for Thanksgiving dinner.”
She looked up from her desk, her eyes sad. I didn't like that face. I didn't like that face.
“You know . . . since you don't have any family here-”
“Percy, I've been thinking,” she said suddenly, interrupting me.
My stomach rolled once more when she stood up, walking towards me until she was only a few feet away.
“I had a meeting with your dad today,” she said, avoiding my gaze.
I squinted my eyes, confused.
“Why wasn't I invited?” I asked suspiciously.
“I'm getting there, Seaweed Brain.” she finally looked me in the eye, smiling a little. But her smile disappeared almost as soon as it appeared. She licked her lips nervously.
“Percy, you have to agree that working together is just . . . not working,” she said. Her eyes glittered.
“Well . . . I mean . . . I-”
“It's too hard, Percy. Being with you every day but not being with you. I hate it more than I let on, and it's honestly driving me insane,” she explained.
My heart thudded loudly in my chest. Was she really saying what I thought she was saying? Even if she was, I was still tremendously confused.
“I don't understand,” I admitted. “What does that have to do with my dad?”
I was 99.9% sure I knew what was coming. And it terrified me. But that .1% was strong enough to hope that I was being delusional and she was about to put her arms around my neck and kiss me. And there was no doubt in my mind that I wouldn't kiss her right back.
Annabeth breathed deeply, her lips turning down. I wished she wouldn't frown. I wished she would smile at me and press her mouth to mine. I wished a lot of things in that moment, but none of them came true. Instead, I was given news that made not only my heart break, but my hands shake. In anger, because there was nothing I could do about it. What's done was done. There was no going back. At least, not now.
“I asked your dad to transfer me,” she said softly, keeping her eyes on mine. “He agreed to send me to Virginia to oversee the call-center there, while still being the Co-CEO. I'll still have to see you, since I didn't want to give up this job, but it won't be very often. It won't be every day.”
All the breath was sucked out of my lungs. I tried to take a deep breath, but nothing came. My heart still beat loudly, I could hear it in my ears even if I couldn't feel it. Annabeth's gray eyes gleamed, and she gave me a sad smile. I shook my head in misunderstanding.
She didn't just say what I thought she said. Did she? Was she really leaving? How could she just leave? No, no, no. She couldn't leave. We hadn't . . . we didn't even get to resolve this problem. I could hardly think a coherent sentence.
“When do you leave?” I asked, not wanting to know the answer.
“Tomorrow,” she said. All I heard was my shallow breath. “The plane leaves at eight.”
I nodded slowly, pursing my lips. She didn't ask me to say anything. I asked no more questions. I just turned around and walked back to my desk, settling into the same chair that months ago, Annabeth had taped an air-horn to.
It was insane how much had changed since that first month, and I found myself wishing that we could go back to those days. Pranking and fighting and . . . . And now she had just rejected my mom’s invite for Thanksgiving, and told me she was moving to Virginia in one conversation. My mom wasn't going to be very thrilled when she heard this news.

My countdown immediately changed from being entitled 'Thanksgiving' to 'Annabeth's plane'. In fifteen hours, Annabeth was going to get on a plane, alone, and move to Virginia, alone. Her apartment came fully furnished, so all she had to pack was a suitcase full of clothes. I glared at the road towards the airport with intensity as Jake drove Annabeth and I home.
I realized with a start that this would be the last time we would sit in this car together, driving home from work in rush-hour traffic. I pursed my lips, staring at my shoes – which I had double knotted after the accident.
When I got home, I called my mom to tell her about the Annabeth issue. She sounded disappointed, to say the least. She went on to tell me how she was really rooting for Annabeth and I, and that she'd seen something between us that she didn't think could be easily matched. I didn't want to believe her.
I wanted to believe that there was no way in hell that Annabeth was the person I was supposed to be with. I wanted to tell myself that it didn't matter that she was leaving because there was someone else for me in the great state of New York that would easily match what Annabeth and I had supposedly had. I wanted to disregard everything my mom said about what she saw between us as her losing her mind. But I couldn't.
I couldn't because every bone in my body screamed that this was Annabeth. It was Annabeth. With every fiber in my being I knew that I couldn't just let her walk away. I knew she had to mean something.
I also knew that no matter how much I knew, there was nothing I could do about it. I couldn't quit; I wasn't going to let her quit – since I knew how much this job meant to her. And it was against my father's strict rules that there was to be absolutely no romantic relationships between employees. And even if we did plead our case to him, we couldn't exactly let us have the benefit of the doubt, because if he's giving us special treatment, the entire company deserves it!
And then there was the question of just having a secret relationship – one my dad would know nothing about. Usually, I would jump right on that. But if there was one thing I learned from Annabeth, always think of the consequences. Sooner or later, someone would find out and tell my dad. Or, maybe Annabeth or I would slip up - maybe I would stare at her for a second too long, or accidentally brush my hand against hers. Or maybe I would kiss her while I thought my dad wasn't looking, resulting in both of us getting in trouble and the title of CEO going to someone less careless.
I understood my dad's rules. I really did. He wanted to make sure that work was a professional place. A place where, if you were tasked with the job of firing someone, you wouldn't be conflicted because you were with them, or married to them even. But at that very moment, as I hung up the phone and retreated to my room to shower, I had never hated working for my father more.
I had truly never wanted to work for my father in the first place. I knew it was a rough job, with chaotic schedules, busy lunch breaks, and stupid dating rules. Plus, there was a part of me that had never wanted to do anything for him after he'd practically abandoned me as a child. Even when I was with him, I was never with him. I was always forced to sit on the floor of his secretaries’ office while he worked his ass off on a Saturday afternoon. I never wanted to be there for a father that had never been there for me.
More than that, I didn't want to be that for my children. I didn't want to be swamped with work every weekend and have to tell my kid I couldn't go play ball with him because this paperwork was more important than him. I never wanted to have to ditch my daughters dance recital because a vender was coming into town for a dinner. I never wanted to make my wife want to leave me because I was never there for her, the kids, or dinner. Because that's exactly what my father had been. That's exactly why my parents had ended up divorced by the time I was five years old.
And maybe my dad hadn't loved my mom anymore. Maybe that's why he had buried himself in his work. So he could avoid having to deal with his fleeting feelings for her and only worry about which frozen meal would make the most revenue.
I had promised myself I wouldn't turn out like my dad before, but as I felt the hot water burn down my back, I swore to myself. I swore that – even though I would continue to work for my dad for the time being – if it ever got to be too much, if I ever was the reason my kid turned away from me with sad eyes because I couldn't play with them, if my wife ever stopped kissing me when I got home, I would quit. I would give it all up and go be a waiter if I had to. Anything to make sure my children, my family, had it better off than I did. Even though I didn't have them yet, I would do anything for them.

The next morning, I met Annabeth in the hallway outside our apartments for one last time. It was six in the morning, and when I had swung the blinds open, the sun had still been hiding beneath the horizon. But the late autumn sunrise would soon be upon us, as the hand on my watch was swiftly ticking down. My internal countdown was getting smaller by the second. Neither Annabeth nor I said anything.
“Can I just-” I started. But my confidence quickly ran out and I sighed, letting my hands fall at my sides.
I was already dressed for work, as I was planning on leaving as soon as Annabeth was gone. Might as well busy myself, I thought, to get my mind off of it. I tugged at my tie, which was suddenly horrifically too tight. I gulped.
Annabeth – although it was severely early for her – looked stunning (as usual). Her hair was tied up in a loose ponytail, and the curled strands I loved so much hung down around her face. She was dressed in leggings and the t-shirt she'd gotten for Halloween. I didn't think I'd ever seen her so dressed down. But I guess if all she was doing today was getting on a plane and moving into her new apartment in Virginia, she didn't need to be all gussied up.
She smiled at me a little, drinking in my appearance. Her eyes glittered in the lights of the hallway, throwing gray sunlight along the walls. Her cheeks reddened when I smirked sideways at her.
“Get over here and hug me, Seaweed Brain,” she laughed, holding her arms out.
There was a part of me that didn't want to. But an even bigger part of me did want to. So I closed the gap between us and wound my arms around her waist, holding her to me. The silence that stretched between us then was long, until she broke it.
“Don't stop drooling in your sleep,” she said, her breath hot on my neck.
I laughed into her hair, refusing to pull back.
“I don't drool in my sleep,” I said.
“Oh, yes you do,” she teased, squeezing me harder.
“I do not.”
“Seaweed Brain.”
“Wise Girl.”
“Aqua boy.”
“Its Aqua man,” I corrected her again.
She laughed once more, curling my hair around her finger. I moved my head a little and pressed my lips to her cheek. I could feel the blood rush to her face as I let my lips linger on my cheekbone.
The moment seemed the last forever, while somehow only feeling like a second. Until her watched beeped, and she pulled away, telling me she had to go now or she would never make her flight. I swallowed hard before taking her face in my hands and kissing her softly once again.
When I pulled away, she was smiling at me. I tried for a smile too, but I think it looked more like a grimace. I leaned against the wall watching her as she took the elevator down. I looked her over for the last time, right as the doors closed between us.
Patting my pockets, I realized I didn't have my wallet. So I turned around to go back into my apartment to get it. I tried turning the doorknob. It didn't open. Somehow I had locked the door when I had come out here.
“Dammit!” I yelled a little too loudly. “I need to stop losing that damn key . . .”
“I think there's something else you should stop losing,” said a scratchy voice behind me.
I whipped around. I didn't know what I expected, but when I saw him, I didn't know what else I would expect. An old man with a cane stood by the closed elevator doors. He was dressed in an expensive Italian suit; his hair was wispy and white. He had a sweet smile and bright blue eyes. I remembered him instantly. The same man that had stood and watched Annabeth and I fighting in this very spot, months and months ago. I scrunched my eyebrows at him.
“I see you finally got over your little quarrel and kissed her, huh?” he smiled, his white mustache twitching.
“I guess so,” I muttered, stuffing my hands in my pockets. “Not that it means anything, considering she's moving to Virginia today.”
The old man scoffed. He walked towards me, using his cane to help him. I wondered still where he came from, who he was, and why he was so interested in Annabeth and I still after all these months. He put his wrinkled hand on my shoulder, but I didn't flinch. There was something about him that was familiar, comforting, and warm.
“Son,” he said, smiling an eye-crinkling smile at me. “Really think about what you can do to change that-” I didn't let him finish.
“It's against the company rules to date co-workers,” I said. “Even if I could change her mind, we can never be together.”
The man seemed to find this funny, as he chuckled a little as he shook his head. I felt like although he was trying to help me, he also thought I was a naive little boy in the middle of making a huge mistake. And maybe I was.
“Do you love her?” he asked suddenly. At first I thought he was joking. Love? Did I love her? Pff. But when I looked at his face, he was completely serious. I gulped.
I really took the time to think about it, as this man was obviously not going anywhere soon – as his hand was still clamped down hard on my shoulder. Did I love her? Did I love Annabeth? It seemed like such a trivial word, such a meaningless word that no one really knew how to describe. It seemed silly to think that I could be in love with someone I'd only known since June. With Calypso, it had taken me years to actually 'fall in love' with her.
After I reminded myself that Calypso was in the past and didn't matter anymore, I thought about what my mother had told me, after I had kissed Annabeth. Falling in love was different every time. Sometimes it was slow and sweet and constant. Sometimes it was fast and wild and passionate. And I didn't know which one I preferred.
But when I really thought about it, when I really took into account all the car rides and lunches and joking and arguing and kisses and talking, my heart felt like it might implode.
“If you really care about her,” the old man said, pulling me from my thoughts. “If you really care, you always find a way. Trust me on that.”
I closed my eyes, thinking through his words slowly. I don't remember his hand leaving my shoulder, but when I opened my eyes, he was gone. And I was alone in the hallway.

And then I was running. The elevator wasn't near fast enough for me, so I opted for the stairs, barreling down them so fast I tripped and probably ruined my dress slacks. But I was too preoccupied to care.
Jake was leaning against the side of the black Lexus casually, picking at his nails. But when he saw me sprinting towards him, he hurried to the front seat and was practically driving by the time I swung open the door and told him to step on it towards the airport.
The entire car ride, I rehearsed what I was going to say, over and over in my head. My leg bounced up and down as I glanced at the clock nervously. In this early morning traffic, I would never make it to the airport in thirty minutes.
What made it even worse, is that it was a holiday weekend. Which meant that when we finally got to the airport – five minutes before Annabeth's plane was supposed to board – there were so many damn cars Jake was pushed into a mile long line. He turned around and frowned at me in apology before I swung open the door – nearly hitting another car – and ran off towards the departure doors. I heard Jake shout something out the window, but I couldn't hear him over the bitter wind blowing in my face. Even though I was without a coat, I hardly noticed the cold.
The first problem arose when I tried to cut through security without a plane ticket. Note: the security guards don't like it, and end up threatening to pat you down and arrest you if you don't step back.
I searched inside myself for the saddest face I could put on. I took all the heartache, ground it into liquid and painted it on my face.
“Sir,” I said, my voice breaking. “There's a girl over there,” I pointed towards the departure section of the airport. “And she's about to get on a plane out of the state without knowing how I feel about her.” I ran a hand through my hair and looked around. I noticed that a lot of people were looking at me with pity in their eyes, as if they actually believed my story.
“There's a lot of shit that's going on right now, and it's been stopping me – or us, or whatever – from being together. But I'm tired of fate, or whatever you want to call it controlling my life. I need to get through here, sir,” I pleaded, trying my best to look as desperate as I felt. “I need to stop her from getting on that plane.”
A silence settled across the airport, and I could feel the stares of thousands of people on me. I glanced at my watch. Three minutes. I had three minutes before she boarded that plane and left.
And sure, I could've just booked a plane to Virginia later that day, but how in the hell was I going to find her once I got there? I had to stop her now. I had to tell her now.
Suddenly, the room erupted into noise. People shouting, pleading, and telling the security officers to let me through. They were all fighting in my favor. They all wanted me to go get the girl. Hell, I wanted nothing more than to go get the girl.
The security guy must've felt bad for me, or got tired of hearing all the yelling, or maybe it was something else, but he passed me though. I knew after 9/11 there was no way he wasn't going to follow me, and I was okay with that. I didn't care. He didn't matter, no one here mattered but her.
I sprinted through the airport, passing all the familiar restaurants and stores and benches that Annabeth and I had made memories at. Sensual grapefruit, I thought giddily. I could tell the security guard was having a hard time keeping up with me, but I didn't care. I kept running until I was in the departure room.
I walked in circles, looking desperately for the plane taking off for Virginia. My stomach rolled a little when I thought that maybe, she had boarded early. Maybe she was already gone. Maybe I had missed my shot.
But then a voice came on over the intercom, announcing that flight 405 to Virginia was now boarding. My eyes shot to gate 6, and I searched through the heads for a blonde-haired one. You wouldn't believe how many damn people have blonde hair! I was about to give up when I saw her – handing her ticket to the woman to get on the plane.
I couldn't breathe, I couldn't see, I couldn't think. Suddenly my voice was screaming her name, but over the noise of the airport, she didn't hear me. She kept walking, each step she took was closer to the plane and further away from me.
“Annabeth!” I yelled again, cupping my hands around my mouth, praying for her to hear me.
This time she stopped, cocking her head towards my voice. She was a hundred feet away from me, and it seemed like she could never be farther, yet never be closer. People pushed passed her angrily and moved to board the plane. She didn't move.
“Annabeth!” I yelled for the third and final time.

It felt like slow motion.

She turned around, moving slower than slow. But maybe it was just my imagination. Her eyes landed on mine and her lips parted slightly, forming my name. My shoulders dropped; I held my arms out. She dropped her bags, leaving her suitcase standing in the aisle.
She couldn't run fast enough. But when I tried to run too, the security man held me back, saying this was as far as he would allow me to go. I felt like that was a cruel joke, but I could tell he meant it. And since he was probably five inches taller than my 6'1 height, I decided not to mess with him.
Then Annabeth was crashing into me, nearly knocking me over. Her lemon scented shampoo bombarded my senses, and I breathed her in as I automatically reached up to pull her hair out of its tie. Her arms were tight around my neck, but it had never been easier to breathe. I discarded her hair-tie – which she would probably yell at me about later; but that thought made me smile – and hugged her to my chest. I felt the eyes on us, and I heard people clapping, but I hardly cared.
She tangled her fingers in my hair, and I moved my hands to her face, pulling her back. I had to see her eyes – which were still such a startling gray that I shook my head in wonder. Even though I had rehearsed what I would say in this moment the entire car ride, I suddenly couldn't remember any of it. All I could think to tell her is what that old man in the hallway had made me realize.
I drug my thumb over her open mouth. Her cheeks were flushed from running, her breath was hot on my face. Her eyes were bright as usual, and her arms were still wrapped around my neck. I didn't even notice people snapping pictures and smiling at us. I smirked at her, remembering her first day at the office with perfect clarity.
We'd been through so much together. Heck, it had all started with us hating each other to pieces. If it wasn't for my dad, telling us to at least pretend to get along, we might not have the friendship we had now. I let out a long breath, which ruffled Annabeth's hair.
“I'm in love with you,” I murmured, letting my forehead fall onto hers. “It took me a long time to realize it, but now that I have . . .” I paused, not knowing what to say. “We fight, and we argue nonstop, and we hated each other for so long. But I can assure you, I have never felt anything more real than this right now. I'm in love with you; I love you, and I don't care whether I lose my job because of it. I love you, and that's all I care about.”
I was feeling pretty proud of my little speech, but then the woman over the intercom came back on saying it was the last chance to board flight 405 to Virginia. In that moment I knew it didn't matter what I said, or how much I wanted her to stay. This was up to her. She had to make the choice. She had to decide if she could risk both of our jobs for this. It was all on her; I couldn't force her hand.
And so I stepped back. I held her hands and took them off of my neck to place them at her sides. She looked confused as I brushed a stray piece of hair behind her ear and took a step back from her.
“But,” I said. “I know how much this job means to you. And I know that if I'm the thing that stops you from having this incredible job, you'll always resent me. And I don't want that. So it's up to you, Annabeth.”
She bit her lip, her eyes glassy.
“I love you, Annabeth,” I said again. “And after everything we've been through, after everything you know about me and me, you, I'm not sure I can ever go back to how it was before. I'm always going to stick by you, even if you decide to turn around and go to Virginia. Even after your entire family has turned their backs on you. I'm always going to be here. So just-”
I was cut off from my third speech of the day as she rushed forward and put her mouth on mine. Cheers erupted throughout the airport, and I smiled against Annabeth's warm lips. She pulled back only to say, “No job is worth losing you, Percy. If I have to, I'll find a new job. So let's go home.” she smiled at me, burying her face in my neck. I hid my own face in her hair and wrapped my arm around her waist before leading her out the way I had come. I didn't notice the security guard grabbing her suitcase for her and wheeling it out behind us.

Despite the fact that we agreed to go home, Annabeth directed Jake to take us straight to work as soon as we settled into the car. I squeezed her hand and she turned to look at me. She obviously saw the question in my eyes.
“We need to deal with this now. Not later,” she said sternly.
I nodded in agreement. Mostly because I was afraid of rocking the boat. But also, because I knew she was right. If we didn't face this right here right now, head on, we would never even get a chance to be happy together.
We wasted no time in taking the elevator to the top floor – where luckily, my Dad was temporarily perched – and practically knocking down the door to my father's office. When we were facing my father – and the owner of the company we worked for – I slipped my hand into Annabeth's automatically. I could feel my dad's icy stare on our interlocked hands. He moved his gaze to my face.
“I sense you have something to tell me, Perseus,” he said coldly.
The use of my full name was enough to render me speechless; quivering with fear in my shoes. Luckily, Annabeth was there. The woman who always knew the right thing to say at the exact right moment. A small flood of relief settled over me for a moment.
Annabeth rubbed her thumb over my knuckles, indicating that I should probably speak first. She was right of course, this was my dad. Just feeling her hand in mine gave me the confidence to push the words from my throat.
Or it would've if I had had any idea what to say.
Instead, I basically mumbled something about love and pointed my gaze to my feet.
I was bad at this to say the least.
“I didn't catch that, Perseus,” my dad said, his eyes still narrowed at me.
I wasn't sure what he was going to do once I found the courage to actually spit it out. Would he actually disown me? Would he actually fire Annabeth? He would have to, wouldn't he? We couldn't have special treatment. And it wasn't like he would just lift the rule.
I scolded myself for sounding like a broken record. These days, I felt like I worried about the same things over and over again. It made me wonder if I was going crazy.
“Annabeth and I-” I choked.
I knew that if I started talking it would all come out as word vomit – and I was not prepared to spill everything to my dad.
Annabeth must've sensed my hesitation, because she spoke up instead.
“What Percy is trying to say sir, is that he and I have . . . become very close over the past few months and we have decided to take our relationship to the next level.”
The way she said it, although completely awkward, sounded professional and clear. The look in her eyes when I looked over at her was hard; daring him to challenge us.
Then it was my turn.
“We want to be together, dad,” I said, forcing myself to have confidence, but being careful not to regurgitate everything. “I don't care if you disown me, or fire me, or whatever. I know what I want; no job is worth losing Annabeth. Especially this job.”
I injected loathing into the last sentence. Letting him know how much I never wanted to be a part of this company. Showing him the distaste I had for my position – even if Annabeth had made it a bit better.
The silence stretched on after that, clouding the room like smoke. My father still held the utter look of anger in his features and I wondered what he would say.
Although my dad had never really been around, he had never been one to get angry with me. When he did decide to spend time with me instead of working, he always made sure it was worth it. I don't remember a time when he ever raised his voice at me.
“Say something,” I muttered, not wanting the uncomfortable silence to last any longer.
His pointed glare moved back and forth from Annabeth and I's faces.
“You're fired,” he said finally. “Both of you.”
As if we hadn't been expecting that, both Annabeth and I gaped at him – searching for words.
“As much as I don't want to lose both of my CEO's . . .” he continued. “I can't give you special treatment. I can see that neither of you are going to budge on giving up your relationship with each other – and seeing as I'm the one at fault for forcing you two to become friends – I don't see any other option. I'm sorry, son. I didn't want it to come to this. You were both very important employees. But, you have until sundown to gather your things and leave.”
And with that, he stood from his desk and ushered us out of the room. Without a second glace, we left.

My door was obviously still locked when we got back to Garden Towers, and I fished my phone out of my pocket and dialed Fred.
Annabeth stood to my side, her fingers coiled around mine. She picked at the hem of her shirt and rested her head on my shoulder.
The loss of both of our jobs was more depressing than I thought it would be. The only good thing that came out of the entire ordeal was that I could kiss Annabeth whenever I felt like it. And in that moment, I felt like it.
It wasn't hard to move my hand to Annabeth's chin and tilt her face up to mine. It didn't take any coaxing on her part either, she pressed her lips to mine firmly and confidently.
Kissing her was almost different. It was still passionate, and it continued to give me butterflies, but it also calmed me down and reassured me.
She put her hands on my sides and slide them down to my waist, where she stopped and hooked her fingers through my belt loops. I had to restrain myself from pushing her against the wall – which I was all too eager to do.
But it was over too soon; as the elevator doors dung and she pulled back quickly. Fred was then walking towards us with another shiny new key in between his fingers.
“I'm not sure we can afford for you to lose any more of these,” he chuckled, his eyes passing over Annabeth and I as he shuffled towards my front door.
“Don't worry,” Annabeth said smugly. “He won't.”
I had no doubt that Annabeth would figure out a way to make sure I kept this key for a while. Although, I wasn't sure if I could even continue living at Garden Towers. I had no job.
Fred swung my front door open and let Annabeth and I walk through. I grabbed the key from his fingers and said a quick goodbye before shutting the door and turning to face Annabeth.
I realized with a start that I had no idea what I was doing. I thought I knew Annabeth. I thought that this would be easy. I thought the words would come to me like they had this morning. But all I could do was croak out a “Meh?”
Annabeth smiled sheepishly, obviously just as confused as I was.
Then I had an idea.
Do you want to-” my voice faltered as I realized I was wording this wrong. How did I say this? How was I supposed to start this?
“Would you- argh . . .”
Annabeth looked at me expectantly; her eyebrows raised. She stood in the center of the room, only a few feet away from me.
“Will you go on a date with me?” I finally finished, ignoring the way my stomach turned in excitement.
She smiled brightly, letting out a short laugh before crossing the short distance between us and wrapping her arms around my neck. Her lips played up as she pecked the side of my mouth softly. I automatically moved my hands to the back of her waist.
I sighed contentedly as she full-on kissed me again. Her soft, full lips sucking and puckering on mine. I smiled stupidly as I breathed in the scent of her.
She pulled away slowly and the noise our lips made was enough to make me cringe internally. But I didn't dwell on it too much, because she was still looking up at me in admiration.
“Is that a yes then?” I said hopefully.
I bit my lip as she pretended to think about it.
“I think I can fit you into my busy schedule,” she smiled once more, her cheeks red.
I leaned forward and kissed her again.
We both got caught up in it, honestly. Before I knew it she was pushing me backwards onto the bed and climbing over to sit on my hips. I tangled my hands in her hair – which was draped over one shoulder – while hers pawed at my chest and struggled to get my tie off.
She giggled into my neck as I pulled the tie to untie it and tossed it on the ground.
“I hate that thing,” I mumbled as she continued laughing. “And it's actually not that funny.”
“I'm not laughing at you, Seaweed Brain,” she rolled off of me and pushed herself up on her elbows to look down at me.
I waited for her to elaborate.
“I'm laughing at us.”
“Why?”
I brushed that stray piece of hair out of her eyes and tucked it behind her ear absentmindedly. It was liberating; being able to touch her and kiss her and love her without fear of crossing the invisible line in between co-workers and friends.
“These past months, I've had to hide everything I felt for you and focus on work. I never let myself want you back. I'm sure you remember when I pushed you away after that night in the hallway. I pretended like it had never happened and that we had nothing.
“Now that I don't have to do that anymore . . . it's just – I'm not used to being open with anything I feel. Even when I was a kid, I kept to myself mostly. I'm not really sure how to – how to do this.”
I felt for her. Really, I did. I had had to go through the same thing when I was with Calypso. She was just a lot better at it than me.
“Hey,” I whispered, moving closer to her. I ran my thumb over her cheekbone. “I don't think either of us really know what we're doing right now. We're just going to have to go with the flow – let the cards fall where they may.”
“I've never really been good at that, you know,” Annabeth said.
She cuddled up into my side; one arm wrapped over my torso. She breathed deeply and settled into the mattress. I imagined she was exhausted.
“Going with the flow was never my thing. I always wanted a plan. Something set in stone and permanent.”
“Well, we can make a plan if you want one,” I offered, already knowing her answer.
“Okay.”
“How about this: we can find an apartment somewhere downtown, find new jobs, and take things slow. Then, we'll figure it out from there.”
It was odd. She was usually the one with the plans. Yet, I could see what I was saying playing out in my head. I could picture us together, ten years from now in that same apartment. But with three kids and a dog in addition to it. I could see it, and I wanted it desperately.
“Moving in together is 'taking things slow?'” she chuckled.
“Well,” I sighed. “I figured we were already halfway there.”
“That's true.”
“If you want a less distant plan, I can make another one for you. One for the next twenty-four hours.”
“Okay,” she said again.
“Let's take a nap,” I said – and I could sense her smile. “And when we wake up, we can get to that date you promised me. Then, tomorrow is Thanksgiving. And that means spending the day with my family.”
Annabeth wrapped her arms around my neck and leaned up to kiss the skin of my jawline.
“Sounds like a plan.”
Maybe it wasn't perfect. With our luck, a million things would go wrong before anything went right. But I would bet everything that it'd be worth it. Just knowing that it was me and her against the world, just knowing that she wanted to be with me as much as I wanted to be with her, it was all enough.
Even if we were just friends.