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Percy studied Annabeth’s face as he rowed them out to the middle of the lake. Her eyes were closed as she leaned her head back and rested her weight on her hands. Two braids framed her face, escaping the silky bandana tied around her head. The moonlight illuminated her dark skin.
She smiled as a breeze rippled past her.
Percy’s heart skipped a beat and the canoe rocked a little more aggressively for a moment before he steadied the waves again. He was glad that Annabeth hadn’t caught him staring, especially since she’d be able to see the beet red blush on his face if she had.
He was reminded of the time he’d almost crashed Hermes’s taxi cab into a wall because Annabeth had smiled, eyes lit up brightly.
Having a pretty best friend could be a real pain sometimes.
Annabeth opened her eyes and gazed at the sky for a moment. Her eyes reflected the stars. The actual stars, not just the ones she usually had in them when she talked about something she found fascinating, usually a topic that made him dizzy when boredom and confusion. But, it really was all worth it to see those stars.
“It’s so clear,” she murmured.
“Never noticed?” Percy tried for nonchalant, plastering a smirk on his face.
“Shut up,” but she smiled as she rolled those lovely starry eyes. “I’ve just … never appreciated it. I missed it.”
A weight fell into Percy’s stomach at her words and he willed it to not affect the water around them. Sometimes he had these feelings of hate. Not towards anyone in particular, more towards himself really. Especially when he remembered how messed up Annabeth’s life had gotten after he showed up at camp last year.
Before coming to camp, Percy had always felt wrong, like he didn’t fit anywhere. That feeling hadn’t gone away, but it had died down after meeting other demigods, becoming a low buzz instead of a loud ringing that he couldn’t ignore. When he was with Annabeth, though, he didn’t think he felt it at all.
She gave him that reprieve while he’d been an omen of destruction for her and the guilt of it ate away at him. Every bad thing in her life, from Athena’s abandonment to Luke’s betrayal, it was because of him.
But, that hadn’t seemed to occur to her.
That was hard to believe, especially for a girl as smart as her, which just meant that she didn’t mind how he’d ruined everything for her.
Percy wasn’t sure if either idea made him feel better or worse.
“I’ve never thanked you,” Annabeth interrupted his spiraling thoughts.
He paused his movements. “For what?”
“For this,” she gestured to the canoe. “I’ve never gotten a present for my birthday before. Your book was my first. And now I have a whole birthday tradition. So, thanks.”
Okay, so maybe the feelings of hate only being directed to himself was a bit of a lie. He hated a few other people. Luke was at the top of his list. For a lot of things, mostly for trying to kill all of them multiple times, but the thing that had risen to the surface just now was how he had treated Annabeth when he was supposed to be taking care of her.
He never got her a present. Never showed her a movie. Never made a birthday tradition with her.
Some brother he was.
“I don’t know how I ever thought you were intimidating when you’re just a big softie,” Percy shook himself free from his feelings towards Luke. It didn’t matter right now.
Annabeth’s eyes flashed. “First of all, I am so intimidating and you were very right to feel that way. And second … I am not a big softie.”
“You keep telling yourself that,” Percy pulled the boat to a stop, setting the oars down. He held out his hand for her.
“I’m going to make you scared of me again,” Annabeth placed her hand in his and he almost laughed at the contradiction between her words and her actions as she poked her tongue out between her teeth, lips tugged up, trying to focus on not tipping over the side of the boat as she stood up and stepped over towards him. She let go of his hand and set her’s on his shoulder, her fingers gripping his hoodie.
“That would presume that I was ever scared of you to begin with,” Percy reached up and grabbed a hold of her waist to help her sit down while the canoe rocked gently.
“You literally just said you were,” she settled down next to him, her shoulder pressed against his.
“I said ‘intimidating’,” Percy clarified. “And it wasn’t because I was scared of you, it’s because you’re —“
He cut himself off before the words “a pretty girl” tumbled out of his stupid mouth.
“I am?” she probed, bumping him softly.
“Intense,” he recovered quickly. “You just took everything so seriously and I didn’t think you’d like me.”
“I didn’t,” but she was grinning.
“Yeah, yeah,” he shoved her playfully, rolling his eyes. “I didn’t think we could get along but I’m glad I was wrong.”
“Me too,” her voice was so sincere and her face was like three inches away from his.
“Annabeth Chase admitting she was wrong?” Percy said after a moment, trying to diffuse whatever had sparked in the air. “Where are the cameras?”
“I’m agreeing that you were wrong, Mr. I Couldn’t Imagine We’d Ever Be Friends,” she narrowed her eyes.
He groaned. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?”
“Nope,” she contentedly hummed. “And for your sake, I hope there are no cameras around here. I have a reputation to uphold and birthday canoe rides do not fit it.”
“Hey, your secret’s safe with me but I think the cat’s already out of the bag,” Percy tipped his head towards the dock where he’d caught sight of some campers dotted in the distance, waving and whistling at them.
“Ugh,” Annabeth groaned, closing her eyes and falling back onto the pillows behind her that Percy had set up just like the year before. “We’re never going to hear the end of this.”
“I can summon a tidal wave and drench them if you want?” he offered, and he was half-joking because ever since the day he’d come back from Olympus after their first quest and Annabeth had hugged him in front of the whole camp, the rumor mill hadn’t quieted down.
And, yeah, maybe going on moonlit boat rides on her birthday wasn’t the best way to dispel the whispers but Percy really couldn’t find it in himself to care when Annabeth smiled at him like he hung moon in the sky for it.
“Thalia’s going to find out,” Annabeth sighed.
Percy turned his attention back to her. She hadn’t moved from her position, but he could see a tension in her body that hadn’t been there before.
Thalia.
It had been a few weeks since she’d come back and they’d had their stand off in the Big House and the fallout had been … interesting to say the least.
Percy had thought Annabeth would want to spend as much time with the daughter of Zeus as she could. He was prepared to feel jealous about it. He was ready to be angry and pace his room sulkily and complain to Grover about it (if Grover hadn’t also been off catching up with her).
He wasn’t expecting Annabeth to show up at his cabin door a week after Thalia’s return to complain about her.
“I can’t take it anymore,” she had explained. “It’s just so … awkward. We have nothing to talk about. She keeps bringing up things that I haven’t thought about in years, things that I don’t even remember! And she keeps trying to ask about Luke and the prophecy and it’s just so complicated, every question has a million different answers but she wants just one that can point her in the right direction. It’s exhausting.” Annabeth collapsed onto the bunk opposite his. “I think she thinks I’m still seven years old and every time I do something, I remind her that I’m actually the same age she was when she turned into a tree.”
Percy had felt oddly satisfied, not because he was glad Annabeth was in distress, but because there wasn’t a chance of Thalia replacing him. He knew it was selfish and he did feel guilty about it, but it didn’t stop him from proposing a plan that would probably exacerbate the rift between Thalia and Annabeth.
“Yeah, how’s that going?” Percy asked, watching her face intently. She winced slightly and opened her eyes to look at him.
“Well, she cornered me today, while you were preparing the boat,” Annabeth recalled, turning her eyes to the sky. “Asked me why I’d been avoiding her.”
“So you really haven’t talked to her this last week at all?”
“Yep,” she rubbed her hands over her face. “Which is your fault by the way,” she pointed a finger at him, but he knew there was no actual blame behind it.
“I take full responsibility,” Percy raised his hands in defense.
Annabeth pulled a pillow from behind her and hit his arm with it.
“Hey!” he laughed, tugging the pillow out of her hands to stop the assault. Annabeth gasped and tried to grab it back but he moved it out of her reach, arm outstretched over the water.
“That’s not fair,” she pouted, big onyx eyes wide and twinkling as she stared up at him. “And it’s my birthday so you’re obligated to give it back.”
Percy gave her a bored stare (as bored as he could because it was hard not to be smiling when she was around), but ceded the pillow back to her. “You used that excuse last year too.”
“How do you even remember that, seaweed brain?” she laughed as she set the pillow behind her and laid back down.
He was glad that her eyes were directed at the sky again because he had an answer that he knew he couldn’t say and he was worried it might be painted all over his face as he watched her. She laced her hands over her midriff, a sliver of her dark skin peaked out from under her camp shirt. If he focused really hard he could make out the beauty mark on her chin. She looked so pretty that his brain might as well have disintegrated.
“Um,” he shook his head to snap himself out of the trance she’d cast over him. “I haven’t told you about my eidetic memory? Another one of my many gifts.”
“That reminds me, when are we getting to my gift?”
“Oh,” Percy clutched a hand over his heart, “I see how it is. You’re just using me for my money.”
Annabeth smiled in the way that she did when she was exasperated but amused by him, rolling her eyes and shaking her head.
“Well if you must know,” Percy grabbed the basket from the boat floor as she propped herself on her elbows to see better. “In one of your letters, you wrote about how your dad has a cassette player that you wished you could use but you didn’t have any tapes.” He pulled out the small box and held it out to her.
She gasped and took the tape from his hands. “You got me a cassette?”
“Well, I made a mixtape,” Percy felt the urge to rub the back of his neck. “Songs I think you’d enjoy.”
Annabeth looked at him with that really cute expression she got on her face when she was excited and happy that he’d done something nice for her: scrunched up eyebrows, sparkly eyes, and lips turned up slightly. It made his heart pound so fast.
“This is really sweet, Percy.”
And then she leaned up and kissed him right on the cheek.
“Thanks.”
He wouldn’t have heard her if she hadn’t been sitting right next to me because the blood rush to his head was almost making him dizzy, or was that the boat rocking?
“Uh,” he stammered, trying to gather his thoughts. “Ye—yeah, of course.”
Annabeth had gone back to studying the cassette in her hands. She was smiling widely, and suddenly everything else fell away. This was his best friend, and it was her birthday, and she was happy because of something he’d done.
Like a normal kid.