Work Text:
Rachel really thought this whole ‘road trip’ thing would be a bit easier.
It’s not a long trip or anything—just three hours to a concert, where she’ll be meeting up with some other friends who live significantly closer to the venue than she does. And then, she’ll stay the night with them so she won’t even have to drive back at midnight. She has a nice car, a full tank of gas, and a perfectly curated playlist to keep her company.
What she didn’t account for was the weather.
She hadn’t bothered to check, considering it’s not exactly something she can change, so she set out blind and ended up caught in a rainstorm no more than thirty minutes into the drive. Sudden summer downpours aren’t unusual, so Rachel powers on, squinting through the rain and the mist kicked up by the car in front of her.
She’s not a bad driver, exactly. She just doesn’t have a whole lot of practice. Even after she got her license, her dad had people who would drive her anywhere she wanted—so long as she was returned home by the end of the day, or it was within reasonable driving distance for them to drop her off and pick her up the day following. So she’s not exactly used to driving in inclement weather.
It’s fine, though—she’ll manage! She knows what to watch out for, and how to best avoid hydroplaning, and whatever other tricks and tips they teach in driver’s ed. She’s honestly starting to think she’s got this driving-through-a-downpour thing in the bag when she flips her windshield wipers up to the highest setting, and—
Snap.
One of the blades flips off, flying up over the top of her car, instantly lost on the highway somewhere behind her.
Rachel’s heart skips a beat, and she swears—though it’s drowned out by the rain and her music.
There’s no use attempting to retrieve the blade, with how many other cars are on the road and how fast they’re all going, so Rachel resorts to pulling off at the next exit, her one remaining wiper clearing just enough of the water away that she manages without getting into an accident. Once off the highway, she can slow down, and she turns into the first parking lot she comes across, which happens to be a gas station.
“Okay,” she says, to no one, as soon as she puts her car into park. “Okay. This is fine.”
If she’d lost the wiper blade on some empty back road, she’d go back for it, but as it stands, that thing is gone forever now. She’ll have to figure out someplace to get a new one. She doubts the gas station will have anything, but maybe if she waits for the rain to clear just a bit, she can make it to some nearby auto shop.
She looks through her window, wary. Hopefully there’s one of those close by.
With nothing else to do for the time being, she heads into the gas station to buy herself an energy drink and ask where the best place to buy a new wiper blade is. She ends up getting candy, too, because she deserves a treat after this mishap. The guy behind the desk gives her the address to a car shop that’s not even a mile down the road, so Rachel heads back out into the rain—which has now decreased into a light drizzle.
She figures there’s no time like the present, so she pulls up the directions to the car shop and sets on her way before the rain can get worse again.
The drive doesn’t take more than two minutes, which is good, because Rachel doesn’t really want to crash due to her inability to see through the rain. She parks, hops out of her car, heads inside, and immediately stops short when she sees the girl behind the counter.
Her hair is styled in box braids, dip-dyed blonde and pulled into a high ponytail. Her eyes are a dark, stormy grey not unlike the clouds looming outside, and her gaze is fixed on the computer in front of her as her fingers fly across the keys. She’s chewing on her bottom lip, brow furrowed, like she’s trying to piece together a puzzle that she just can’t quite solve.
She is, quite possibly, the most beautiful person Rachel has ever seen.
For a moment, Rachel simply stands in the entrance, unable to either tear her gaze away or get her feet to move. It isn’t until the girl says, “Don’t let the rain in,” that Rachel is able to snap herself from her stupor and step forward, so the doors slide shut behind her.
“Um,” she says, voice failing her as the girl looks up and meets her eyes. The nametag pinned to her shirt says Annabeth.
A pretty name for a pretty girl, Rachel thinks. Maybe losing her windshield wiper was actually a stroke of luck in disguise.
“Did you need help with something?” Annabeth asks.
Rachel nods. She crosses the remaining distance between them, coming to a stop at the counter. “I, uh— I need a new windshield wiper blade. Mine kind of…came off.”
Annabeth raises an eyebrow. “Came off?”
“Yeah. I was driving, and it was raining—obviously—so I turned the speed up, and then it just—” she makes a sharp gesture accompanied by a fwoop! sound, “—flew off.”
Annabeth blinks. “Okay,” she says, sounding about as bewildered as Rachel feels. Now that she’s not actively driving through the rain with only one wiper blade, the whole situation is just—baffling. How did it just snap off? She didn’t even know that was possible. And it had been working just fine at the beginning of the drive!
“I don’t know how it happened either,” Rachel defends, because she doesn’t want to look like a complete idiot. She’s already a mess, considering her paint-splattered shirt and shorts are soaked from the rain, and her hair is frizzing up even worse than it usually does as it starts to dry. And she isn’t typically the sort of person to worry about her appearance, but how can she not be a little self-conscious when she looks like a wet dog in the presence of a literal goddess?
“Something must have jostled it. Either the weather, or something that fell on your car at some point, or maybe even an animal.” Annabeth shakes her head. “Regardless, I can find the right size blade for you if you tell me the make and model of your car.”
“Oh! Right!” Rachel rattles off the details, which she’s committed to memory despite having next to no idea what any of it means. All she knows is that if she can give someone with more knowledge than her the basic information, she’ll probably survive.
Annabeth looks up the blade measurements, then steps away to grab one for Rachel. Rachel watches her as she goes, trying to figure out if there’s any way she can make herself look like less of a fool, because she’s really tempted to shoot her shot and ask for Annabeth’s number. The worst she could do is say no, but she’s definitely far more likely to say no if Rachel comes across as some shallow, stupid rich kid. Which is about 50% true, but— that’s not the point. She’s smart about non-car related things. Like art history and music.
It isn’t long before Annabeth returns. She rings up the blade, lists out Rachel’s total, and she hands over her card to pay. It’s only once her card is back in her wallet and the blade and receipt are in her hand that she realizes—
“I don’t know how to put this on.”
Annabeth cracks a smile. “I figured that might be the case,” she admits. “I can follow you out and do it for you.”
Rachel breathes out a sigh of relief. “You’re a life saver!”
It takes Annabeth all of thirty seconds to put the new windshield wiper blade on Rachel’s car, and all Rachel can do is watch, entranced, at how easy she makes it look. The air is still wet and heavy from the rain and heat, but there are only a few scarce droplets still falling from the sky. It’s actually quite nice, for now, though Rachel is certain this is only a brief break in the storm considering the sky is still thick with dark clouds.
“Done!” Annabeth announces, crinkling up the package in one hand. “You’re all set to go.”
“Thank you so much!” Rachel exclaims. “Seriously, I owe you big time. I’ll be driving back through this way tomorrow—if you want a coffee or something, I could totally buy you one. Either drop it off here, or meet you at a café…” Belatedly, she realizes she’s rambling, and that this is probably weird. But Annabeth hasn’t run away yet, so maybe she still has a chance? She might as well go for it. “Or, if you give me your number, we could plan something else.”
Annabeth looks Rachel over—scrutinizing and analytical. Rachel is mentally preparing herself for the worst rejection of her life when she pulls a Sharpie from her pocket and uncaps it with her teeth. Before Rachel can even consider asking what’s going on, Annabeth is taking Rachel’s arm and scribbling a phone number amongst the other random doodles decorating her freckled skin.
“Oh,” Rachel hears herself say.
“You did ask,” Annabeth reminds her.
“I did,” she agrees. “But I didn’t think I’d get this far.”
Annabeth laughs. She re-caps the marker, then sticks it back in her pocket. “I work tomorrow morning, but I’m free in the afternoon. We could get ice cream or boba.”
Rachel nods emphatically “Yes!” she agrees, before Annabeth has even finished speaking. She clears her throat, trying to tone down her excitement. “I mean— Yeah. It’s a date!”
“It’s a date,” Annabeth repeats.
And as Rachel watches her walk back into the shop, the rain begins to pick up once more. She stands in it, grinning, letting it soak through her clothes, and it pays off when Annabeth shoots one final glance over her shoulder before stepping inside.
It warms Rachel down to the bone, even as the cold rain pours around her.
Honestly, this whole solo road trip thing is turning out to be pretty great after all—and she’s hardly even begun.