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Chapter Text

Piper doesn't like football games as much as she's supposed to.

She doesn't like how hot it gets when all the students in the school are packed into the bleachers like sardines, how annoying it is to climb up and down when you have to do something as simple as go to the bathroom, and she definitely doesn't like that for most of the game, she has to actually watch the football that's on the field below.

"I'm back!" a voice calls out over the cacophony of sounds emerging from the students around.

Piper looks over to the end of her rows of bleachers. Leo Valdez, her curly-headed best friend, is stepping over people while holding two hot dogs in each hand and has a bag of popcorn hanging out of his mouth. Despite the predicament, his eyes are wide and a happy smile hides behind the bag of popcorn. Between the food and his disheveled band uniform, he looks like a twisted Nutcracker statue.

From beside Piper, her other friend Hazel grits her teeth. "Oh, Leo..."

Piper gets to her feet, reaching out to grab either the popcorn or some of the hot dogs before Leo biffs it hard down the bleachers and embarrasses himself in front of everyone. Though, with Leo, it wouldn't have been that big of a surprise to everyone. And while she's happy to help, she doesn't try to hide her laughter.

"Hazel was the only one that wanted a hot dog, Leo," Piper chuckles, tugging the popcorn free from his teeth with one hand and retrieving a hot dog with the other. She quickly dishes the hot dog to Hazel.

"Your calculations don't include me, Pipes," Leo says proudly as he sits back down beside Piper. He begins to unceremoniously stuff his face. Hazel and Piper can only watch in horror.

"Remember to breath, dude," Piper looks away in disgust, happy that she settled with the popcorn instead of the processed meat alternative.

"What? I work up a hunger," he grumbles through his mouthful.

Hazel just shakes her head, "Doing what? Sitting?"

Leo swallows a big bite, glaring at Hazel as if she had just betrayed him. He picks up his discarded trumpet.

"For your information, Hazel," he snaps, "playing trumpet takes a lot of energy."

"Not as much energy as that," Piper gestures to the scene in front of them.

The grass field is lit up with stadium lights, providing the perfect stage for boys in Goode High School's signature forest green uniforms to run around and "dazzle" the crowd. In the center of it all, her boyfriend, Jason Grace, is standing...on sidelines.

"And he eats about twice as much after a game," Leo concludes.

Piper laughs, remembering the previous week when after Jason got home from the away game. He filled up on a pizza and a half, washed it down with just about a liter of soda, and even had some of Piper's pint of Ben and Jerry's.

"I never knew benchwarmers worked so hard," she teases.

As if Jason can hear them, he turns around and scans the crowd. The minute his electric blue eyes find Piper, his face lights up and he waves happily. Piper smiles, waving back a little less enthusiastically.

"It's cute that he always gets so excited to see you," Hazel notes. "It's like when a dog sees his owner for the first time after going off to war or something."

Leo grunts in agreement, "Only way more disgusting."

Piper rolls her eyes, laying a heavy punch on Leo's shoulder. He ignores her and stands up, waving his hands frantically.

"Hey, J-Man! I'm here, too! Love you!" He hollers. The other band people in their section give Leo glances, but no one says anything.

Piper can see the blush on Jason's face from where she's sitting, and even though Leo is being incredibly obnoxious, it's cute to see Jason get all embarrassed. Her boyfriend waves back up at Leo, before turning his attention back to the game. Leo lets out a few more supportive whoops before reclaiming his seat.

"Is the game almost over?" Hazel asks, changing the subject away from Leo's goofiness.

Leo just shrugs, polishing off the rest of his hot dog and uses the back of his hand to wipe away the ketchup. Piper looks at the scoreboard, she hasn't gotten any better at reading the numbers even though she's been part of the pep band for many years now. All she knows is they're losing 21-7.

"Hopefully," she says, numbly.

Suddenly on the field, the football is into the air and over most of the player's heads. A player in green fights off some guys in a different jersey color and leaps to make the catch, falling down into what Jason has explained to Piper is the 'end zone.' Immediately, the bleachers around Piper erupts into a serious of cheers and clapping.

"Get ready," Hazel groans.

Piper and Leo follow Hazel's instructions, pulling up their instruments and getting to their feet. At the foot of the bleachers, their conductor gets to his feet and begins to direct them. Piper puts her flute to her lips and with the rest of the band, they begin to play the school fight song. This moment, with the drums powerfully banging around her and the rest of the crowd clapping along, is one of the only reasons that Piper comes back to pep band year after year. She isn't one for school pride or even cheering on her boyfriend, but she loves the energy that rushes over everyone like a drop of fresh water every time the band strikes up a tune.

The song eventually dies down and so does the heightened energy, Piper sets her flute back down and takes her seat. Slowly, the rest of the band follows. Down on the field, the football game is resetting and Jason shoots them a happy thumbs up.

"Look at that," Leo whistles, pointing to the side of the field.

Piper and Hazel follow his finger, finding the cheerleaders in their white and green uniforms arranging into a celebratory...structure? Piper wasn't sure what the hell it was.

"Gross, Leo, don't be a perv," Hazel scolded.

Leo's face scrunches up in disgust, but there's a suspicious pink tinge to his cheeks that weren't there before.

"That's not what I meant," he argues. He angrily gestures to the cheerleaders again. "I just meant, like, watch it'll be cool."

"Uh-huh," Piper smirks, completely unconvinced. The pink on Leo's cheeks deepens.

Nevertheless, Piper and Hazel watch as Leo had instructed. The cheerleader's rearrange themselves quickly, then (just as quickly) launch one of their own up into the air. The girl flies, twisting around in the air gracefully, before dropping down into the arms of her teammates below. Piper raises her eyebrows, vaguely impressed.

"I'll admit," she shrugs, "that was kind of cool. I don't think they've done that before."

"Oh, they definitely haven't," Leo confirms.

Hazel winks at him playfully, "Oh, and you would know."

Leo blanches, stumbling over his words. "N-no, I just, like I would remember. That was, like...straight outta Bring It On or something."

The two begin to bicker about it. Hazel is determined to make Leo feel even just a bit more guilty, just for fun.

Piper zones out, her focus glued to the cheerleaders. As they separate, they begin to clap and cheer, encouraging the stands to join in. At the front of them, jumping around on the balls of her feet, is a girl with honey colored hair pulled into a tight ponytail with a delicate green bow. The green school logo is stuck onto her cheek, just above her dimple. And her eyes, though sparkling with a smile, are a storm grey. Of course, Piper can't see them from where she sits, but she knows those eyes well.

Leo quickly catches onto where Piper's gaze is focused. He smirks, stealing some of the popcorn out of the bag.

"I swear Annabeth Chase is like the fucking Energizer bunny," he laughs.

Hazel nods in agreement, "I have no clue where she gets all her energy. If I did half of the extracurriculars she does, I would have to hibernate in the summer."

"She's more like Tinker Bell," Piper replies, a hint of bitterness to her tone. "She just needs attention, or she'll die."

"Damn, Pipes," Leo gawks. "What did Annabeth ever do to you?"

"Nothing, it's just a lot. I'm tired of hearing about her." Piper takes on a fake, high-pitched croon. "Vote for Annabeth Chase for Prom Queen, vote for Annabeth Chase for Senior Class President, blah blah blah. OMG, did you hear that Annabeth and Percy are going steady?"

Piper finishes her rant with a roll of her eyes and a dry tone, "Kill me already."

"Alright," Hazel says quietly, "that was something."

Leo nods in agreement, "Yeah, let's change the subject before you turn Annabeth to stone with your snake eyes."

Once more, Piper slugs Leo's shoulder. This time, he coils away with a weak whimper.

They return their attention to the game. Unfortunately for Piper, the rest of the game doesn't include another touchdown and they rarely pick up their instruments throughout the last half hour. The Goode High School Titans get completely brutalized, with a 31-14 score on the board when the final whistle blows. Quietly, the team exits the field, Jason among them. Piper, Hazel, and Leo wait as patiently as possible while the rest of the band begin to filter out of the bleachers.

The trio regroup near their vehicles once the football stadium is empty. They each took their time to quickly change in their cars and stash their instruments away, too. Piper had no choice but to do so in Jason's rusty pickup, a sad effect of agreeing to carpool at his instance.

Piper leans against the truck, watching as Leo attempts to catch a particularly pesky frog that he found on the pavement. Hazel's laughing, but still tries to cut Leo off from harming the poor creature.

"Leo, watch out for its legs," Hazel begs, watching as Leo nearly catches the frog.

Piper laughs, "Yeah, Leo, don't harass it."

"I'm not!" He insists, right before he flops to the ground with the frog slipping through his grasps.

"What's Leo not doing?" a new voice questions.

Piper and Hazel stop what they're doing, turning to find Jason walking towards them. He's changed out of his uniform, now wearing just a raggedy Goode High School t-shirt and jeans. He has his gym bag slung over his shoulder, and a curious smile on his face.

"I got it!" Leo declares, leaping to his feet with his hands cupped together. His happy expression grows even wider as he sees Jason has approached.

"I ask again," Jason says cheerily, "what do you got?"

Leo extends his hands forward, attempting to slowly reveal the frog. As soon as his hand is adjusted, the small frog leaps out of the hand and hops away. Jason steps backwards to avoid the amphibian, laughing as he watches it go by.

"Whoops," Leo scratches the back of his neck.

Hazel laughs, "He's in a better place now."

Jason unlocks his truck, tossing his football bag in the backseat. He then sidles up to Piper, slipping his hand into her's. It catches her by surprise, but she tries settles into it.

"What's the plan now?" He questions, opening the conversation up for discussion.

"Movie?" Leo suggests.

Hazel shakes her head, "No, my curfew is midnight this weekend."

"Boo," Piper frowns.

"Sorry," Hazel shrugs, "you can take that up with my dad."

Piper's frown deepens. "On second thought, an early curfew provides a stable and safe environment for a growing child."

Hazel rolls her eyes, "Stop that."

Jason looks between the two in confusion, "Uh, what am I missing?"

"Piper thinks Hazel's dad is hot," Leo groans. "It's been an ongoing discussion since the first half of the game."

"Mr. Levesque?" Jason shakes his head. "I don't see it."

"Good," Piper smiles evilly, "more for me."

Hazel sighs in defeat, "Gross."

"So, what can we do that will get Hazel home at an appropriate hour?" Jason poses.

"Oh!" Leo leaps up. "Can we go to iHOP?"

Piper turns towards Jason with puppy-dog eyes, "Oh, yes please! I want a milkshake."

"Hazel, is iHOP good with you, too?" Jason wonders.

Happily, Hazel beams. "I want a waffle!"

"iHOP it is," Jason smiles.

The group splits up accordingly, all heading to their separate vehicles. Piper hops into the passenger seat of Jason's pickup, finding a small bit of comfort in the cushy fabric and the musky scent. She buckles up as the old ignition gives a half-hearted rumble.

Jason directs the truck out of the parking lot, turning into the direction of the nearest iHOP.

"You sounded great today, Pipes," Jason comments. His hand finds her's in between the seats.

Piper smiles. "Thanks, J. You did good on the...sideline."

"Thank you," he responds proudly. "I like to think I contribute to the overall team morale."

"Definitely," she nods sarcastically, "I could sense it from all the way up in the stands. They'd be nothing without you."

Jason chuckles. "Still, hopefully since we're seniors I'll get some play time this season. That way you aren't stuck watching for no reason."

"Oh, you think I come for you?" Piper teases.

"Uh," he pauses, a questioning glint in his eyes.

She laughs, "I do, a little. Mostly for band, but you're there too so..."

"I see how it is."

"Just so you know where my priorities lie."

Jason shakes his head, the hint of a smile playing on his lips.

"So, what type of milkshake are you thinking tonight?" He changes the subject.

Piper thinks it over. She loves milkshakes more than most things life. If she's being honest, she loves them more than Jason and they've been dating for the last 6 months.

"Probably strawberry."

Jason nods in understanding, "It's a classic."

"Oh," she falls, "I did just remember chocolate exists."

"That's a contender," he plays along.

"Okay, you get chocolate and I'll get strawberry," Piper suggests. "That way, I can have both."

Jason gives in, "Alright, sure, anything for you."

Piper raises her hand, patting his check affectionately. He blushes.

"I've trained you well," she winks perkily.

Before they know it, Jason is pulling the truck to a stop in front of the iHOP. Leo's supped up, old Chevy is already parked in one of the front stalls. He's air drumming in his car so intensely, he doesn't notice that they have arrived.

Piper leans over, slamming her hand hard on the truck's horn. It cuts through the air sharply, Leo leaps so high in his car that his head bumps against the roof. He flops back into his seat, rubbing his head with a smile on his elfish lips. Jason's howls of laughter are almost as loud as the truck horn.

In sync, they all slip out of their cars at the same time. Leo flips Piper off as soon as they see one another. Piper sticks her tongue out at him.

Hazel arrives shortly after, pulling up beside Jason's truck. She gets out gracefully, a sweet expression on her face. She waves at them.

"Who's ready for some breakfast?" She grins.

Piper claps, "I am!"

Following Leo in the building, the group finds their seats. Piper has her milkshake in front of her in a matter of seconds, making even the boring football game worth it. Leo regales them with a story from his childhood involving a snake, though no one can believe that he strangled one like a baby Hercules.

As their discussion spirals from Leo's possible baby heroism, to Jason's hopes of starting at least a single game, and Hazel's worries about her math class, Piper listens intently while sipping on her drink. She can't help but find her mind wandering to Annabeth's shiny hair and megawatt smile from earlier in the night. Annabeth has everything, she knows that. She may be prettier and more popular, but Piper's happy to be where she is, with her friends by her side.

-*-*-*-

Later in the night, Jason brings the truck to a stop in Piper's driveway. She inspects the Craftsman, noting to herself that all the lights are off and the driveway is empty. Next door, the three story house looks like the complete opposite - every single window is lit up, cars pack the driveway and flood onto the street, people liter the street conversing, smoking, and drinking. Piper sighs, of course Annabeth's house is bustling with half the school.

"It's a miracle no one has called the police yet," she grumbles.

Jason cuts the ignition on the truck. He shrugs, "It's not like it's a surprise. Annabeth hosts the party after every game."

"I won't be having any fun when I can't sleep tonight," Piper rolls her eyes.

"They're not that loud," Jason argues, "I thought about going. It looks like fun."

Piper's mouth drops open. He raises an eyebrow.

"What?" Jason questions.

"You were invited?"

"Yeah," Jason says simply. "I thought about going, but knew you wouldn't want to."

Piper stares at him, blankly. He begins to pale, wondering what he's doing exactly wrong.

"Maybe I did want to go," she replies finally.

Jason laughs, which doesn't make Piper feel any more considerate in the moment.

"Maybe I did!" She insists. "But I wasn't invited, so it would be rude to show up."

"Everyone is invited, Pipes. We could go over there right now, if you wanted."

"If I want to go..." she repeats. Her eyes drift back over to the party. Someone in the back is cannon-balling into the Chase pool from the second floor balcony. She chews on the corner of her cheeks, watching as someone else vomits into the bushes.

Jason smiles knowingly. "Yes, if you wanted."

Piper blinks, "I don't want to go."

"See?" He chuckles under his breath, "I knew it."

"Okay, well, next time just ask," she bites sharply.

Jason puts his right hand up, his thumb tucked across the palm. "I will. Scout's honor."

Silence settles between them. Piper unbuckles her seatbelt, taking in the empty house and trying to delay going in. Her father is still at work, otherwise he would have let the living room light on for her. Jason senses this hesitance. He reaches over, taking her hand.

"Is your dad at work?"

Piper nods, "Yeah, he took a shift so that his coworker can go to their son's birthday party or something. I don't know."

"Do you want me to come inside?" He wonders. "We can watch a movie or something?"

Piper looks at him, his doe-eyes wide with a slight tinge of pink in his cheeks. She knows he means well, but Piper isn't so sure it's a good idea. As much as she doesn't want to be alone, she also doesn't really...want him there, as odd as it sounds.

"No," she tells him, "I'll be fine. I'll text you in the morning, though."

Jason doesn't push it, but clicks his seatbelt back together.

"Good, I'll need some help with my physics project if you are offering to help..." he states slyly.

Piper rolls her eyes, but smiles, "Like I said, I'll text you tomorrow."

"I look forward to it," he replies. He leans across the console, planting a soft kiss to her cheek. Piper lets him, sitting their expectantly.

She wishes him goodbye and gets back out of the truck. As she shuts the door, the truck rumbles to a start. She makes sure to linger in the driveway, bidding her boyfriend goodbye as he backs out of her driveway and rumbles off down the road.

Left alone in the dark, she almost regrets telling him to leave. Almost.

She turns to head inside, the house next door once again catching her eyes. This time, she finds the familiar blonde hair of Annabeth Chase. She's standing beside a car, bending over to talk to whoever is inside the car. Piper finds herself unable to move her attention elsewhere, much like when she was bouncing around at the game.

Annabeth pulls away from the car, the window rolling up before Piper can make out who is inside it. The cheerleader turns around, her stormy eyes quickly spotting Piper in the driveway. A smile finds its way onto Annabeth's face, she gives Piper a polite wave. Hesitantly, Piper waves back.

They stay that way for a second too long, just starting at one another. Annabeth opens her mouth, as if she's going to call across the lawn to her neighbor. Instead, a tall figure with messy black hair steps out of the backseat of the car and snakes his arm around her waist. It's Percy Jackson, perhaps the only person in their school as popular and perky as Annabeth. He plants a kiss on her forehead, before pulling her into the house with a lackadaisical grin on his face.

Piper lets out a sigh, pulling her house key out of her pocket and entering the empty house. She throws her shoes off to the side, wandering into the kitchen to find something to snack on. Her mind wanders back over to the house next door, no doubt packed the brim with Piper's fellow students. Maybe Jason was right, maybe this entire time she has been invited. She could go over...

The thought slips away as quickly as it comes. Piper has always been the girl next door, there was a time in which Annabeth and her got along but clearly, that time has passed. If Annabeth wanted things to change, she would make them. Clearly, it doesn't matter to the cheerleader, so why should it matter to Piper?

Chapter Text

Annabeth wakes up Saturday morning and for a moment she forgets that there’s a mess the size of Texas downstairs.

She takes in the brisk fall air softly blowing in through her window and lets the sun warm up her skin. It's a peaceful second before she resolves herself and slips out of her covers. The clock on her bedside reads 9:30 in the morning.

She slept in a baggy t-shirt and shorts, and she wears this as she ties her hair up into a messy pony tail and proceeds down the hall. She stops at the guest bedroom door, knocking politely before opening it up all the way.

In the middle of the dark room is a queen-sized bed. The sheets and pillows are astray and hidden in the middle of the big, white comforter is a head of black hair. Annabeth flicks the light on. The mass of hair groans.

“Wha?” the voice questions, moving slightly.

Annabeth blinks, unamused. “Get up, Silena. You have a mess to help me clean.”

“Five more minutes,” Silena groans, tugging the comforter around her more.

“Fine,” Annabeth shakes her head, “but my dad will be back at 2 and if this mess is still here, I’m pointing him in your direction.”

Like magic, Silena sits up in the bed. Somehow, after sleeping all night and drinking profusely the evening prior, her hair and face of makeup appear nearly identical to when she showed up for the party. They can’t hide the groggy look on her face, though.

“I’m up,” she states weakly.

Annabeth smirks, “That’s what I thought. You’re on kitchen duty.”

She turns on her heel and walks downstairs, leaving the door open so that Silena won’t attempt to sleep again. As soon as she’s out of sight, Annabeth pulls up her phone.

ANNABETH: bring coffee pls <3

PERCY: already on it 💁🏻

Annabeth smiles, the familiar warm bubbly feeling she gets when anticipating Percy’s presence begins to tickle her stomach. She pushes it aside and walks downstairs.

The living room is a bigger mess than she remembers. An end table is completely overturned, crushed red cups and cans litter the rug (if her father saw this, he would have a heart attack) and a mysterious yellow liquid coats the frame of their most recent family photo. She can’t say she’s mad about it.

Annabeth grabs a pack of trash bags from in the kitchen - which is just as disgusting; the snack bowls are half-empty with most of the contents on the kitchen island, miscellaneous drink bottles lay abandoned and leaking onto the counters, and an entire carton of ice cream had been left open to melt. She ignores this mess. This zone will belong to Silena, she was the one who left the ice cream out.

She sets out with her trash bag, throwing every item she can find into it. She fluffs the pillows and places them back on the couch. She tips the end table back on its legs and resets the lamp. Then, she fetches the hand vacuum from the side closet and begins sucking up the many crumbs that covered the gray couch.

She’s just about finished with the living room when Silena emerges from the upstairs. She appears completely refreshed and has already changed into her clothes for the day. She looks even more perfect, if possible, then she did only moments ago.

“Wow, this isn’t nearly as bad as you made it out to be,” she muses in greeting, her blue eyes sparkling curiously.

Annabeth raises her eyebrows, “Maybe because I’m almost done here. The kitchen is waiting for you.”

“I don’t get why I have to help,” she argues innocently. “It is your house.”

“Yes, but I didn’t want to have this party,” Annabeth responds, “and you left the ice cream out after begging me to have the party in the first place. I will be expecting compensation for the ice cream, by the way.”

Silena rolls her eyes, but there’s a playful smirk on her face. This isn’t the first time they’ve had this conversation.

“You never want to have a party,” she points out. “But they’re so much fun. Did you see Charlie Beckendorf showed up? He’s in college now…college boys are coming to your parties? Normally it’s the other way around.”

Annabeth sets the vacuum down and gets to her feet. She grabs Silena’s shoulders and points her in the direction of the kitchen.

“Beckendorf came because he’s on fall break from MIT and he has a crush on you,” Annabeth states matter-of-factly. “Now, into the kitchen you go. Cleaning supplies are under the sink.”

Silena groans, “Yeah, yeah, I know where they are.”
Annabeth pushes her all the way into the krusty kitchen. Entering from the foyer at the same time is Percy, a tray of three coffees in his hand.

“Oh, Perseus!” Silena swoons, heading to the coffee with her hands outstretched, “You’re my hero!”

Percy sets the coffee down, a smirk on his face. “I didn’t expect you to be walking upright today, Silena. I thought you would be recovering from your keg stand. Are you joining our cleaning crew?”

Silena gives Annabeth a glare while gulping down some of her iced coffee. “I’ve been forced to, against my will.”

Percy cocks his head at the other girl. “The party was your idea.”

“That’s what I said!” Annabeth declares triumphantly, fetching her own coffee. She plants a kiss on Percy’s cheek gratefully.

Silena pretends to gag, “You two are never more disgustingly cute than when you’re gaining up on me.”

Percy ignores Silena’s comment, instead taking in the dismal state of the kitchen. His mouth drops open slightly. “This feels messier then usual.”

“I went to bed at 1,” Annabeth explains.

“Yeah, the party didn’t stop till 4ish,” Silena adds on. “I fell asleep around 3 on the pool floaty. Charlie had to wake me up and help me to bed.”

Annabeth smirks, “I’m sure he did.”

“Not like that,” Silena blushes. “Though, I wouldn’t be upset…”

Percy and Annabeth break into a fit of laughter, sharing a high-five happily. Silena just ignores them.

As the laughter dies down, he turns to Annabeth.

“Put me to work,” he requests, “what’s the plan?”

Annabeth shrugs, “Silena was just about to start the kitchen and dining room, I’m almost done in the living room. Do you want to check the bathrooms and then we can tackle the patio together?”

“Sure,” Percy agrees. “And, maybe at some point we can get the toilet paper off of the chandelier.”

She grits her teeth, “They tee-peed the chandelier?”

“Yeah, I don’t know how it’s pretty high up,” he says. “I’m pretty impressed.”

“How did I get tasked with the dining room, too?” Silena questions.

Annabeth levels a look in Silena’s direction and she begrudgingly agrees to do the dining room. With the game plan mapped out, the three go separate ways. At some point, Silena puts on some music in the kitchen and it makes the cleaning relatively more fun. It takes all of them to get the toilet paper off of the chandelier in the foyer, but the girls only watch when Percy fishes a patio chair out of the pool.

The combined effort of all three of them is enough to finish the work by noon. Silena leaves after, noting that she hasn’t spoken to her parents since before the football game on Friday night and she should probably check in. Percy and Annabeth reward themselves with lemonade on the patio.

“You are lucky you didn’t get bathroom duty,” Percy explains as he sips on his lemonade. “I think Dakota had a little too much to drink last night, because Kool-Aid puke was all over the basement toilet.”

Annabeth laughs, shaking her head. Dakota was a classmate of theirs, he was fun to be around and frequented many parties. Unfortunately, he had a penchant for mixing his drinks with Kool-Aid and is a bit of a lightweight.

“Bathroom duty is always the worst,” Annabeth replies through her laughter. “Why do you think I passed it on to you?”

Percy shakes his head, “That’s evil.”

“I prefer wise,” she quips back.

“Okay, Wise Girl,” he teases, leaning back in his chair to stare up at the blue sky.

Annabeth lets his teasing settle between them. She didn’t mind the nickname, in fact most of his nicknames were endearingly cute.

For a few moments, she watches him watch the sky. She’s aware that most of the school considers him the hottest guy and she can’t deny it either. In her, admittedly, biased opinion, no one was close. His well-tanned skin makes his sea green eyes stick out more than they already do. She loves his scar too, a white little line on the corner of his chin. It’s one small imperfection on an otherwise perfect face. It only gets cuter when she remembers he got it while riding shopping carts down a hill in middle school. He has a mop of unruly black hair that gets brushed every day, she knows for certain, but it never stays in place. Annabeth doesn’t mind, it matches his easy-going personality.

It’s a miracle they work together so well, because Annabeth would not describe herself as anywhere near easy-going.

His eyes find her out of the corner of his own. He smirks at her, “What are you thinking about?”

She bites her lip, “Honestly? How hot you are.”

“Oh yeah?” He questions, smirking to himself. “You flatter me.”

Annabeth laughs, forcing herself to pull her eyes away. She takes a sip of her drink. “What are you thinking about?” She wonders.

“Honestly?” He repeats her words. “The meet on Monday.”

She feels stupid for asking. Of course that’s what would be on his mind. She isn’t the only one starting to feel stressed by the finality of senior year, the accomplishments, and applications they had to submit. For Percy, that’s increased tenfold by needing to get scouted by top schools. He has to be at his best every swim meet to get that attention, in order to then get to the Olympic Trials in the years to come.

“You’ll do great,” Annabeth tells him, unsure of what to actually say. “No one is as dedicated as you, and no one deserves it like you do.”

“I’m not worried that I’ll do bad,” he admits. “It may sound conceited, but I know I will do great.”

Annabeth wants to laugh, but she withholds it. She just nods, giving him the cue to continue.

Percy swallows. “I’m nervous about this year ending. I’ve gotten used to all this. To our friends, to Coach Hedge, you…I know what to expect. Everything is going to be different next year, no matter where I end up.”

“Hm,” Annabeth muses. “I don’t think so.”

He gives her a puzzled look, “Huh?”

“I don’t think it all will change,” she insists. “Perce, wherever you go, your family is always going to follow. Sure, the location and swim environment will be different, but your mom, Estelle, even Paul, they’ll be there. I know I’m not going anywhere.”

Percy frowns, “You want to study architecture, we can’t guarantee we’ll be at the same place. I’m not going to ask you to compromise what you want to do.”

“I won’t have to compromise,” Annabeth disagrees. “We’ll make the decision together. We’ll apply to a lot of the same places. Wherever you go, I go, and vice versa.”

“Do you mean that?” He peers at her.

“Of course I mean that,” she doubles-down. “We’re a team.”

“I love you,” Percy blurts out.

Annabeth’s breath hitches in her throat. They’ve been dating for nearly a year, the words shouldn’t come as a surprise. She knows she feels the same but in the moments she’s gone to say it, she finds herself hesitating. They aren’t easy for her to say, ‘I love you’s’ aren’t exactly thrown around in her household.

Percy, on the other hand, has always been an all-in kind of guy. When the first few months went by and he hadn’t said anything, she wondered if he actually liked her. It wasn’t until she announced her candidacy for Senior Class President and he spent all night making nearly a hundred posters to put up around school that she realized. Only a man in love does that, Silena had told her. Percy showed up to school the next day with blue-stained hands. Not that he cared, he loves the color blue.

And, he loves her.

“You don’t have to say it,” Percy says, breaking up her thoughts.

“I love you, too,” Annabeth finally declares, her heart hammering in her chest.

“Really?”

“Really?”

Percy is leaping out of his seat before Annabeth can even react. He wraps her in a hug and plants a huge, wet kiss on her lips. She wants to fight it, but can’t bring herself to push him away.

When he finally lets go, he spins around triumphantly. He fist bumps the air.

“She said yes!” He exclaims. His voice echoes through the neighborhood.

“Oh my God,” Annabeth laughs. “Someone is going to think we got engaged.”

He looks at her with a slight smirk, “Would that be such a bad thing?”

Annabeth feels her cheeks flush. “Yes, I love you, but yes.”

“I know,” he waves her off with a chuckle. “I’m just teasing.”

Percy is about to take him a seat when a large banging sound echoes throughout the house. Seconds later, a voice calls out to them.

“I’m home!” A man shouts. “Annabeth?”

Annabeth groans, knowing that her blissful time being home alone has ended.

“Fun is all over,” she tells Percy dejectedly.

He gives her an apologetic look. Annabeth gets to her feet, grabbing his hand. She pulls him towards the house.

“Annabeth?” The voice shouts again. The couple is about to head inside when the sliding door slips open. Frederick Chase is suddenly standing right before them.

It might be fall, but Frederick Chase is nothing if not predictable when it comes to his style. He wears a tweed jacket, with a brown vest and white button up underneath. His scruffy blonde hair is in need of a haircut, but groomed as carefully as possible. He looks like he’d smell of coffee. His wire framed glasses sit on his nose, making his dull brown eyes appear incredibly beady.

“Oh, there you are,” he says, clearing his throat. The minute he sees Percy, a smile takes over his face. “Hello, Percy.”

“Hi, Mr. Chase,” Percy smiles politely back at him.

Annabeth gives a restrained smile. She feels Percy squeeze her hand. Frederick turns his attention back to her daughter.

“Sheila and I will be out for the night as well, I have dinner in the city with the department heads,” he explains logically. “We will probably get a hotel and stay for the night, but I’ll text if that changes. Matthew and Bobby are at their friends house until tomorrow.”

“So, I’ll have the house to myself tonight?” She clarifies.

“Yes,” Frederick confirms. “Behave, but if you must have friends over, make sure it doesn’t get back to me, yes?”

“Of course,” Annabeth nods. This is typical of her father. He loves the idea of his daughter being popular, he hopes that she’s the girl everyone wants to be. Having a daughter he can put on display when he needs a shiny trophy to impress his coworkers is all he cares about, in regards to her anyway.

A silence falls over them. Annabeth blinks when she sees Frederick staring at her expectantly. She puts on another fake smile.

“How was the conference?” She asks. Frederick smiles happily, he’s been waiting for her to ask.

“It was surprisingly informative,” he starts. “They gathered quite an interesting group of intellectuals, for once. A group from Johns Hopkins in particular provided great food for thought. I’ll be sharing their questions at dinner tonight, hopefully it will have a good impact on our research.”

“That’s good,” Annabeth replies simply.

He nods curtly. “Yes indeed, how’s school?”

“Fine,” she answers.

“Okay, I’ll leave you to it, then,” Frederick wraps up. As he goes to leave, he turns to Percy. “Keep, uh, swimming good, Percy.”

“Thank you, sir,” Percy replies.

With that, Frederick leaves them alone on the patio again. Percy immediately bursts into a fit of laughter.

“‘Keep swimming good,’” Percy repeats in a silly tone, making him laugh more.

Annabeth rolls her eyes, “Yeah, he doesn’t know much about swimming. He sticks to more ‘intellectual’ activities.”

“I don’t think he likes me,” Percy states.

“No, he does,” she argues. “He likes that you could be an Olympian and that I’m dating you. He’ll love being able to brag about that.”

Percy raises his eyebrows, “Oh, good, glad I can do that for him. What was his conference for?”

“He just sold a book deal,” Annabeth tells him what she was told a month ago, “which means his research is getting more funding, which means he needs to make sure his original findings are true. I don’t know, he explained it to me but he can talk for hours about it so I just pretended to understand.”

She didn’t want to admit that if it were someone else, she probably would find it quite interesting. Unfortunately, she inherited her father’s love for education and knowledge. But, she hates her father more than her curiosity and knew that asking any questions would only inflate his ego more.

Percy shrugs, “I would do the same.”

Annabeth is about to make a joke, but an alarm on Percy’s phone goes off. He takes it out to give it a once over.

“Oh,” he sighs, “I have to get going. Coach Hedge added an emergency afternoon practice before Monday.”

“Do you have to?” Annabeth whines a little.

“Unfortunately,” he doubles-down. “Think of it this way, if I go to this practice, there’s a better chance your father will be able to brag about me over cocktails at the next conference.”

She groans, “Then you definitely shouldn’t go.”

Percy laughs, but leans forward and kisses her forehead. He did really have to go. She accepts the kiss happily.

“I love you,” he says quietly, like it’s a secret for only them to hear.

Annabeth smiles warmly, “I love you, too.”

-*-*-*-

Monday morning comes quickly, which means Annabeth’s other routine comes into play. Instead of scrubbing away the remains of a party, she wakes early in the morning to give herself enough time to make herself into the person her classmates expect.

She showers, making sure to moisturize the minute she gets out. Her outfit, which she picked out the night prior, is a cloth crop top and high-waisted jean shorts. She laces on a pair of Jordan’s that she stole from Percy, though he would never admit that they wear the same size. She accessorizes with a thin gold bracelet, the last gift her mother gave her before she left. She throws in a rubber bracelet for the last charity she volunteered with.

Lastly, she does her makeup. She keeps it light and simple; some mascara, a pink blush, with a nude lipstick and she darkens her eyebrows a tad. It’s enough to enhance her features but not enough to seem like she’s trying too hard. It’s the same makeup look she’s been wearing since Sophomore year. Everything is a balance.

She makes her way downstairs right on time at 7 o’clock. Her step-mother, Sheila, is in the process of making waffles. Matthew and Bobby, her step-brothers, sit at the kitchen island awaiting said waffles. They’re in middle school, which means they ignore Annabeth and only really talk with each other. That’s fine by her. She doesn’t have much in common with middle school boys anyway.

“Good morning,” Sheila greets when she finally catches Annabeth opening the fridge.

“Morning,” Annabeth mumbles half-heartedly. She grabs her cold brew, cream, and the items needed to make a parfait, setting out to make a quick breakfast.

Sheila watches her with laser-like eyes. “Do you want a waffle?” She offers.

“No thanks,” Annabeth answers.

Another part of her balancing act is her food. Part of being the person everyone expects is looking the part physically, as a result most of what she’s eating in the day is already planned out. Every morning, she has either a parfait or eggwhite omelet. For lunch, she makes herself a salad or will stop at a cafe on the way to school for a wrap and a smoothie. She allows for fluctuation in her dinner, sometimes treating herself to a burger or sushi. Most of the time it’s a chicken dish. She never used to care if her weight fluctuates, honestly the only reason she cares now is because she knows people will talk about it.

“Will you be joining us for dinner?” Sheila wonders. Annabeth knows that the question really means ‘do we have to plan for you?’

She shakes her head, “No, I have cheer practice and then Percy has a swim meet so we’ll probably grab something afterwards.”

“Okay,” Sheila nods, “just make sure you’re home before curfew.”

Annabeth clenches her jaw to keep from snapping back. Sheila married Frederick when Annabeth was 5 years old, and yet they both have a mutual disdain for one another. After all this time, Sheila still tries to wield her underserved and nonexistent power over her. If Annabeth had a curfew, she didn’t know what time it was and was never told as much. Frederick has made it clear that as long as she’s getting good grades and behaving accordingly, she can do whatever she wants.

To argue would be asking for her father to get involved. And, she isn’t going to give Sheila the power to make up some arbitrary time on the spot. So, Annabeth plasters on her perfected fake smile.

“Of course,” she says bitterly.

She quickly finishes her parfait and puts a lid on her coffee, eager to get out of the household.

Walking into school always makes Annabeth feel unconscious. She feels the eyes on her almost immediately, following her as she makes her way to her locker. Over the years, she’s gotten good at standing up straight and staring confidently ahead, the coffee in her hand always helps. Deep down she’s analyzing anything they could be finding wrong.

Her eyebrows are uneven.

She has something in her teeth.

Look how pale she is.

What does Percy even see in her?

Didn’t she wear that shirt last week?

She has to work to put those thoughts out of her mind.

Once she finds her locker, she takes out most of the books in her backpack to stash away. She inspects her reflection in the mirror stuck to the inside of her locker, double-checking that there actually isn’t anything in her teeth. This has become part of the routine, as well. All her insecure thoughts are illogical, she knows, but the mirror helps make sure that they are just that - irrational.

The minute she shuts her locker, Percy appears. He’s wearing a green Goode letterman jacket, which Annabeth is always surprised to see. She didn’t peg him as the jock-y, letterman type and he really isn’t, but he was so proud when he lettered in swim freshman year for the first time. Besides, underneath he’s wearing a ratty t-shirt for his favorite pop punk band, Blackjack, and ink-stained jeans with boots. His inherent style still peeks through.

“Madam President,” he bows, a lopsided smile glued to his face.

“I told you not to call me that,” she laughs, rolling her eyes.

“I can’t,” he argues, “It’s my right as the First Lord of the Senior Class.”

“First Lord?”

He stares at her blankly. “Yeah, because I can’t be the First Lady. The opposite of a lady is a lord. First Lord.”

“That’s not a thing,” Annabeth corrects.

“If there can be a female president,” Percy insists, “there can be a First Lord. Let me be your Jackie.”

Annabeth shakes her head, “Oh, so this is why you helped me campaign? So you can claim your title as ‘First Lord?’

“No, I helped you because you were the most qualified,” he explains. “You're smart and diplomatic, the most organized person I’ve ever met, and also because I wanted to use the parking spot when we carpool.”

“So you did have ulterior motives,” she laughs, pushing him gently.

Percy lets her push him, even though he easily could’ve ignored it. He straightens his back suddenly, realization hitting him.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” he digs around his pocket, “here.”

He hands her a yellow slip. Her name is written on it sloppily, the rest is illegible.

“What is this?” she questions.

“Coach Hedge has excused you from first and second period,” Percy instructs. “You have to meet with him in his office.”

Annabeth stares at the note, trying to read what it says. “Why? I don’t think I’d be much help on the swim team.”

“That’s for sure, you suck at swimming. He gave it to me at practice this morning, since he knew I would see you,” Percy begins. “He got an email that said he has to, and I quote, ‘fulfill the student counselor duties he was hired to perform, including advising the senior class on how to properly prepare and plan their post-secondary life.’”

“Wow,” Annabeth frowns. She’s impressed that Percy could remember all that, but admittedly a little hurt he said she sucked at swimming. She decides to bring it up later.

“I know,” Percy nods. “But at least you already have it figured out, for the most part.”

“Well, I guess I should go find his office,” Annabeth sighs.

“You don’t know where it is? We’re seniors, we’ve been here for four years.”

She blinks, “And? I’ve never had to see him before. Apparently because he doesn’t actually do his job.”

“He’s a great swim coach,” Percy allows, “but yeah, he kinda sucks as a counselor. His office is right next to the pool. You can’t miss it.”

“Thanks,” Annabeth nods. She lifts her backpack onto her shoulder and shuts her locker. “See you at lunch?”

“It’s a date,” he promises, kissing her cheek sweetly.

As he heads into the opposite direction, she feels more eyes flock to the both of them. Any time they show the slightest amount of PDA, they gather more attention. Annabeth blushes.

Like Percy said, Coach Hedge’s office is right near the pool. A bench sits against the wall right outside his door, and she’s surprised to see two other students, Katie Gardner and Will Solace, waiting their turn already.

She takes the remaining seat on the bench, which happens to be right in between them. She sets her backpack between her legs.

“Hey, Annabeth,” Will smiles warmly.

“Hi,” she grins back.

Annabeth isn’t too familiar with Will. She knows he’s in her grade, they were partners in biology last year. He was kind enough, doing most of the work on their labs and nailing each one. The best part was that he explained everything, he could tell that Annabeth genuinely wanted to learn so she could do well on the homework and tests, and he took the time to break everything down as he did it.

The door to Coach’s office is already shut, implying that he’s in a meeting as they speak.

She turns to Will, “Who’s in there right now?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know, the door was shut when Katie and I got here.”

Annabeth accepts that answer. She takes out her phone, mindlessly scrolling a bit. Katie was doing the same next to her.

“Do you know what this is about?” Will wonders, suddenly.

“Yeah,” Annabeth begins, “Coach Hedge is supposed to help us figure out our plan for next year.”

Will groans, rolling his eyes, “Oh great, that’ll be a fun time.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Annabeth commiserates. “I already know what I want to do, the last thing I need is a stranger’s input.”

“Yeah,” Will nods. “What do you want to do?”

“I’m going to be an architect,” she answers simply. “But I’m applying to a bunch of schools. NYU, Georgetown, Harvard, Yale, I have my fall backs, too. I literally have the application deadlines written in my calendar and the process mapped out so I know I’ll get them in early. I don’t need whatever Hedge is going to offer.”

Will makes an appreciative sound. “Best of luck to you.”

“You too,” Annabeth wishes, “what are you doing?”

He blinks, “I thought you knew? I’m pre-med, hopefully at Johns Hopkins. I have all that I need completed, it’s just hard to stand out, you know?”

Annabeth suddenly remembers what her father said over the weekend, about the people he met from that very school and how they seemingly hit it off.

“You’ll be great at that,” she replies. “My dad actually met up with some guys who are doing research for Johns Hopkins just last week. I can see if he’ll put in a good word? Or at the very least, if he’ll write a letter of recommendation.”

Will’s face morphs into shock. He stammers, “Y-yeah, that would be great. Only if he’s willing, of course.”

Annabeth smiles, nudging Will with her shoulder. “I think I can make it happen, especially once I tell him how great you were in biology.”

“Thanks, Annabeth,” Will says earnestly. “I would really appreciate that - more than you know.”

“No problem. It’s the least I can do after you carried me through Mr. Papadopoulos’s class.”

Will smiles back at her. Randomly from beside her, Katie leans into their view.

“You don’t happen to have a connection at Purdue, do you?” She asks, a twinkle in her green eyes.

Annabeth laughs, “No, not that I know of. Sorry.”

Katie waves her off with a happy smile. The trio go back to sitting in silence. It gives Annabeth time to think of the last time she spoke with Katie. She can’t recall. In fact, she isn’t sure how much she even knows about her.
Just as she is about to ask Katie about her future, a new person enters the hallway.

Annabeth’s throat constricts, making a weird choking sound come out of her throat. Piper McLean of all people is walking towards them, a yellow slip in one hand.

They used to be best friends. In fact, Annabeth can remember all of it clear as day. She remembers waiting for Piper to get done with her music lessons so they could play, sneaking into each other’s houses when their parents were gone and binging on ice cream, sticky fingers on hot summer days drawing on the sidewalk with chalk. And, once they got older, screaming One Direction lyrics at the top of their lungs while jumping on Piper’s bed and walking to the nearest gas station with all the change they could find to buy a bag of Hot Cheetos.

It’s been years since those days. The only time Annabeth has seen Piper is in the few classes they’d shared or instances like last Friday night, when they pass each other coming and going from their houses. Piper was the girl next door, they can never truly avoid one another.

But this is the first time, with Piper’s attention on her phone as she walks, Annabeth gets a good look at how much the other girl has changed. She’s much taller now, with toned tan legs. Her black hair is up in a messy bun, a strip of it is dyed red but clearly the paint is starting to fade. She’s wearing a faded pink tank top under a worn jean jacket. Miscellaneous pins, patches, and holes adorn the acid washed denim. Ripped, loose jeans are tied tightly around her waist with a thick belt, and she wears heavy brown boots similar to Percy’s. A silver stud sticks out of her nose, Annabeth can see it glinting under the school lights.

She’s grown to be the complete opposite of Annabeth.

As if sensing her thoughts, Piper looks up. Her kaleidoscope eyes find Annabeth’s gaze, and almost immediately a skeptical glare furrows her thick brows. Annabeth averts her gaze, focusing in on her own shoes. She attempts to keep heat from flushing into her face.

“Hey, Piper,” Katie is the first to greet the new girl. She shifts, attempting to make room for Piper on the bench but the other girl elects to lean against the lockers on the other side of the hallway.

“Are you good, Annabeth?” Will questions in a hushed tone. “You just got really red.”

Annabeth keeps her voice quiet as well. “Yeah, I’m getting hot. No worries.”

He nods, but doesn’t seem so convinced. Regardless, he turns his attention away. Piper and Katie are now having a polite conversation, but Annabeth tries to ignore it.

The door to Coach Hedge’s office opens and out steps Leo Valdez, another boy in Annabeth’s grade. She’s familiar with his antics, for such a tiny boy he’s loud. The minute he sees Piper an elfish smirk slips onto his thin lips.

“Pipes,” he says, “you’re up next.”

Before Annabeth can stop herself, she’s blurting out. “But she just got here!”

The other four students turn to look at her in shock. With their heavy gaze on her, she tilts her chin up to try and exude more confidence, though she can already feel it draining away.

“Sorry,” she mutters, “you can go, Piper.”

“Thanks for your permission,” Piper remarks dryly, one eyebrow quirked up.

Leo snickers, “Damn, get her.”

“I-I just thought it was weird, Katie and Will have been waiting the longest,” Annabeth argues weakly. “But if they don’t care, I don’t.”

Piper glances at the other two, both of them shrug as if to say, ‘whatever.’ Without another word, she enters the office and shuts the door behind her.

“That was incredibly awkward,” Leo chuckles. He practically skips down the hallway back to whatever class he came from.

Will sets his blue eyes on Annabeth, “Are you sure you’re fine?”

“Yeah,” Annabeth repeats, “I don’t think it’s fair we have to miss more class. She literally just got here. But if you’re fine, I’m fine.”

“It’s senior year,” he replies simply, “missing class is a part of it.”

She shrugs. It was weird of her to argue in the first place, especially since it was never going to be her turn to begin with.

Moments of silence go by. Katie resumes scrolling on her phone, Will pulls out some book from his backpack. Annabeth twiddles her thumb, her mind wandering to Piper no matter how hard she tries to prevent it.

It’s so weird to her, that she once knew Piper like the back of her hand. And now? She wasn’t even sure what Piper would be telling Coach Hedge about her future. When they were little, she wanted to be a zookeeper. Maybe she was still into that? Annabeth doubted it. No one wants to be the same thing from when they were little.

Okay, Percy wanted to be an Olympian when he was little, but that’s different.

Once more, the door to Coach’s office opens again. This time, a stout and grumpy man with balding hair and a Goode High School faculty shirt is standing in the doorway.

“Miss Chase,” Coach Hedge barks, “get in here.”

Her mouth drops open, she gestures to Will and Katie.

“Uh, they were here first, Coach,” she states.

Coach doesn’t even glance in their direction. “You don’t think I know that? Get in here, now.”

He then struts back into his office. Annabeth picks up her bag, shooting an apologetic look to both Will and Katie before following after the little man.

Coach’s office is a maximalist's dream. Every inch of his desk is covered in papers, napkins, pens, whatever he was currently eating, and folders. The cement walls were coated with posters, ranging from Bruce Lee to Michael Phelps. A framed photo of himself and Olympic Gold-Medalist Katie LaDecky is proudly on display right behind his chair.

Piper sits in a metal fold out chair right in front of his desk. Her backpack is hanging on the back of the chair, a tattered Hello Kitty keychain dangling sadly from the zipper. She looks none too pleased to see Annabeth enter the room.

The door swings shut behind Annabeth, and Coach Hedge finds his seat. He leans back in the chair, gesturing in front of him.

“Take a seat, Chase,” he orders.

Annabeth looks around the room. The only chair she sees is the one Piper is sitting in. Finally, she spies another metal foldout chair leaning against the wall. She momentarily sets her bag on the cement floor and grabs the chair. When she bends it open, an unbearable squeak cuts through the air. Piper scrunches up her nose.

It’s incredibly awkward while she gets situated. She knows they are watching and waiting. The silence is unbearable. Finally, she sits down on the cold metal and leans her backpack against her on the floor. She turns her attention to Coach Hedge, who stares back at them with his beady eyes.

Annabeth clears her throat, desperate to clear the tension. “Is that Katie LeDecky?” She points to the framed photo.

He grunts, “Sure is.”

“Cool, did you meet her?” Annabeth wonders.
Coach snorts so loudly she thinks he bursted his aorta for a moment.

“Meet her?” He chuckles. “I coached her!”

“Oh, she didn’t go here, did she?” Annabeth follows up.

Coach rolls his eyes, as if Annabeth is asking the most annoying and obvious questions imaginable.

“No,” he states. “I coached her when she was five. The Bethesda Little Minnows! She was a natural. While all the other kids were learning to float, she was doggy-paddling in the deep end.”

Annabeth looks over at Piper, who is struggling to withhold her laughter.

“Five?” Annabeth repeats. “That sounds like swim lessons.”

His proud persona falters for just a moment. He glares at her from across the desk. “Everyone has to start somewhere, Chase.”

“True,” she grants, unsure of what to say.

“Let’s just get to the business,” Piper demands suddenly.

Coach looks over at her, and back at Annabeth. He sighs. “Yeah, okay. Chase, as Senior Class President you are in charge of the Prom Planning Committee. McLean is now on that, too, okay?”

“What?” Annabeth does a poor job at masking her confusion and shock.

Prom was her thing, she knew that. It was part of the reason she ran for Senior Class President, she desperately needed both that title and Prom Queen on all of her applications. She knew that she would mostly be planning the event by herself, after all high school seniors can’t be bothered with most things, and she was okay with that. In fact, she was looking forward to it. Now, though, not so much. She was relying on the only help she needed Percy's and the occasional underclassmen she shamelessly pays to help with the more hands-on tasks.

“You heard me,” Coach Hedge deadpans.

Annabeth looks at Piper. The other girl has a glare set into her face, but she doesn’t look surprised.

“Did you know about this?” Annabeth questions.

“Yeah,” Piper nods, “unfortunately.”

“Why?” Annabeth asks, posing the question to Hedge this time. “Why? I have all my plans sorted.”

“Good, then McLean can help you execute them,” Coach nods.

Annabeth shakes her head, “But she doesn’t even lo-” she stops herself, just a tad too late.

“But what?” Piper straightens up her chair, her skeptical gaze returning.

“But, you don’t even look like you’d go to Prom,” Annabeth finishes, double-down. She matches Piper’s glare with one of her own.

“And you would?” Piper retorts. With her heavy gaze, Annabeth can sense what she was really trying to say.

Annabeth had changed.

And she was right, Annabeth has changed. She never used to be like she is now, but it has gotten her much further than she anticipated. So what if she watches what she eats and wakes up an hour early to put on makeup? It’s those small things that are going to get her and Percy into the same school, it’s those things that would make her successful. She’s not ashamed of that.

“Considering I’m Senior Class President,” she snaps back, “and most likely will be on Prom Court, yeah, I would.”

Piper rolls her eyes, “Oh, my bad. I forgot who I was speaking to, Madam President.”

Annabeth thinks of earlier, how Percy said those very same words in such a light-hearted and fun way. The idea of Piper ruining that for her made a sick feeling settle in her throat.

“Don’t call me that,” Annabeth growls.

“Or what?” Piper dares. “It’s a fake title, you don’t actually have any real power.”

She is about to argue back, but Coach Hedge bangs his coffee mug against his desk. The two girls turn to look at him.

“Enough! God, you two are going at it like Rocky and Drago,” he detests. “Listen, Piper, in order to get into Juilliard you have to diversify your application. And, like I’m being reminded constantly these days, it’s my job to help make that happen. You both benefit from this, so deal with it.”

Juilliard, so that’s what Piper wants to do. Annabeth remembers hearing Piper play piano. The gentle chords would drift to Annabeth’s windows on summer afternoons, it always sounded so delicate but intentional. At some point, Piper transitioned to flute, and that came just as easy to her. Anything that could make a sound, she was a natural with. She was born to go to Juilliard.

Still, Annabeth couldn’t see how that was her problem, or how she would benefit from the arrangement.

“What do I get out of it?” She asks the Coach.

Coach frowns, “Honestly, I don’t know. The good feeling that you helped someone out? I literally don’t know. But, I have the administration’s backing, so both of you will cooperate unless you want detention.”

Annabeth frowns, but nods. Piper looks just as unenthusiastic.

“Great,” he claps his hands together. “Fundraising for Prom starts soon, as I’m sure you know. Chase, make sure you loop McLean in on all that. You’re both free to go. Send the next person in.”

The two girls look at each other hesitantly for a moment. Then, Piper gets up and grabs her backpack, leaving out the door they came in. Annabeth stands up, but drifts behind.

“Is that all you needed me for, Coach?” She asks.

“Well, I’m not asking you to join the swim team, that’s for damn sure,” he laughs.

She frowns, “I’m not that bad of a swimmer.”

“Uh-huh,” he seems unconvinced.

“You don’t need to hear any of my post-secondary plans?” She inquires.

“You and I both know you don’t need my help,” Coach shakes his head.

Annabeth blinks, “And you won’t get in trouble for not talking to me about it?”

“Do you want to have this meeting?” He replies.

“Not particularly.”

“Good, then leave,” Coach orders, waving her out of his office.

Annabeth fetches her backpack and leaves the office, as well. Katie Gardner heads in after her.

Down the hallway, Annabeth sees Piper stopping to get a drink from the water fountain. Annabeth runs to catch up to her, marching right up to her side.

Piper takes her time drinking from the water, her eyes drifting up to stare at Annabeth as she sips. Finally, she stands up and swallows the last of it. She wipes the remaining liquid off of her lips with the back of her hand, still not breaking eye contact. Her eyes, which sit somewhere between hazel, blue and every other color somehow, are intense. Annabeth refuses to be the first one to look away.

“Can I help you?” Piper asks dryly.

“I already have all my fundraising strategies planned out,” Annabeth announces, “and I won’t have you ruin it for me. But I won’t be doing all the work, you’ll have to carry your weight.”

Piper blinks. “Okay, fine.”

“And I - wait, you’re okay with that?” Annabeth is confused. She expected much more push-back.

“Yeah,” the other girl nods, “like Coach Hedge said, I need this and as much as it’s my own personal Hell, you’re the one in charge. Tell me where to be and when, I’ll be there.”

Annabeth almost smiles. Almost. Instead, she also nods, hiking her backpack up higher on her back.

“Okay, I’ll let you know then,” she confirms.

“Great,” Piper says sarcastically. She gives Annabeth the sassiest thumbs-up she’s ever seen and turns on her heel to leave.

Piper is almost gone when Annabeth calls out, “Oh, and Piper?”

She tops, turning around with a pained expression. She spreads out her arms as if to say, ‘are you kidding me? what else?’ Annabeth smiles, not one of her well-used fake smiles, a genuine one.

“Juilliard would be lucky to have you,” Annabeth tells her.

Piper flips her off and struts away, without another word.

Chapter Text

“‘Juilliard would be lucky to have you?’” Piper grumbles, staring at the wall opposite from her. “Who says that to someone?”

Jason is sitting next to Piper, his lips working his way up her neck to her cheek. He has an arm wrapped around her shoulder, pulling her flush against him. Piper should be relishing in the feel of his lips tracing a trail across her skin, but she can’t pull herself out of her own mind.

“Someone who is trying to be nice,” he responds, his words coming out hushed and jumbled against her neck.

Piper hums, trying to focus on her moment with Jason. They’re on the couch in her living room, the only light coming from the warm, romantic evening sun coming from the windows. The homework they had been trying to work on has been long forgotten, now laying haphazardly on the coffee table.

Jason transitions his movement to her lips, a gentle hand moves to rest on her thigh. His tongue works its way into her mouth, but she’s still staring at the small dent in the wall across from them. She tries to believe his words, but she can’t stop seeing Annabeth’s smug smile after they left Coach Hedge’s office.

Feeling her disinterest, Jason pulls away. He licks his lip, cocking his head at her curiously. She doesn’t notice at first.

“Oh,” she suddenly realizes. “Why’d you stop?’

He just laughs, shaking his head. “Because you’re clearly not into it.”

Piper shakes her head, scooching closer to him. “No, I am. Let’s go.”

“It’s okay,” he insists. “We don’t have to makeout or whatever. We can do whatever you want.”

“I want to makeout,” she argues.

“No you don’t,” he chuckles. Piper blushes. He grabs his homework from off the coffee table. “It’s fine. I’m just confused. You didn’t want to watch a movie, you didn’t want to talk, and when I tried to do homework you kissed me, so I assumed…”

She moves back away from him dejectedly, sighing to herself and fetching her own homework again. Despite herself, she stays silent.

Jason blinks. “Clearly you do want to talk about it.”

“She’s trying to get in my head,” Piper snaps, the flood gates opening and revealing the full force of her anger.
“By giving you a compliment?” Jason asks hesitantly.

Piper rolls her eyes. “You don’t know how girls work. It’s strategic; an act of mental subterfuge to make me second-guess myself.”

Jason does his best to stifle his laugh, but fails miserably and it comes out in choked stutters.

“I’m sorry, do you hear yourself?” He differs. “You sound paranoid. If you were as close as you say, Pipes, why would she do that? You were friends. Maybe it’s just an olive branch.”

“You’re missing the point,” she scoffs. “We were friends, key word being were. It ended horribly. We’re sworn enemies.”

Jason bites his lips, “Sworn enemies? Are you sure Annabeth sees it the same way?”

“I can’t believe you are taking her side, Jason,” Piper furrows her brow, recoiling. The words coming out of his mouth make an edge build up inside of her.

“I’m not taking anyone’s side,” he argues.

“You should be taking mine,” Piper bites back.

He sticks out a hand, gently placing it on her arm. She glares at it, but lets him do so.

“I’m sorry,” he starts calmly, “I just want to make sure you’re not searching for some sort of nefarious intention when it’s not there.”

Piper chews on the inside of her cheek. She appreciates the gentle quiet of his tone and the way his hand feels on her arm, but she’s not entirely sure she likes what he’s saying.

“Okay,” she relents, sighing slightly. “You have a point. But I’m still mad at her.”

“And you have a right to be,” he agrees. He hastily adds, “I think, I’m not sure. You never actually told me what happened.”

Piper murmurs, “All you need to know is that she’s a bitch.”

A pause breaks up their conversation. Jason is trying to decipher if Piper really means that, or if she’s exaggerating. Finally, a slight smirk finds Piper’s lips cuing that it’s okay for them to laugh. And they do, the hearty sound breaking up the brief period of tension.

As the laughter dies away, Piper sighs. She turns to Jason, an eyebrow quirked up. “Want to make out again?”

Jason practically giggles, “I don’t know, I have a lot of algebra homework…”

“Shut up and kiss me,” Piper laughs, pulling Jason into her.

He happily obliges, picking up right where he left off. This time, Piper actively kisses him back and enjoys his heated touches. She nibbles at his lip, liking the way it elicits a reaction out of him.

Jason is nothing if not a gentleman, and while things start to get heavy; Piper gripping onto him for dear life and practically shoving her tongue down his throat, she has to grab his hand and place it on her boob. With permission granted, he takes the opportunity and runs with it.

She has to fight to keep thoughts of Annabeth at bay. The image of her stormy eyes when bickering with Piper in the office, her self-satisfied smirk throughout it all and the way her honey hair caught the light under the hallway’s fluorescent lights, it all got under Piper’s skin. But she forces those thoughts away, Jason was right. She’s thinking too much. She needs to enjoy this moment.

Right as Piper is about to suggest they move to her bedroom, the front door around the corner from them opens. Jason springs away from Piper as if she’s radioactive, his normally pale face turning a bright scarlett.

In through the front door comes Tristan McLean, a bag of groceries in each hand and a pile of mail clenched between his teeth. He uses his foot to shut the door behind him. His eyes widen the minute he spies the two teenagers.

Piper and Jason get to their feet, a proper six feet in between them. Jason scratches the back of his neck, shifting on his feet uncomfortably.

Tristan sets the groceries and mail down on a side table, turning to the two of them. He has Piper’s same tan skin and richly dark hair - though it's ruffled and in need of a wash. He wears a worn denim button up with dark washed jeans, all of which are wrinkled. It’s typically how it looks after a shift, like he just needs time to reset and recharge. Piper hates to admit it after teasing Hazel about her dad, but he’s an attractive man. She knows by the stares he draws in from women his age whenever they’re out in public together.

He puts his hands on his hips, leveling his gaze at the two. Piper steadies herself.

“Dad,” she murmurs limply, “I thought your shift didn’t end till tomorrow.”

Tristan seems unaffected by the question, his eyes now running up and down Jason. “It did, but when I took the extra shift the other day the guy promised to repay me, so, here I am,” he explains in a smooth tone.

Piper nods, folding her hands behind her back and balancing on the balls of her feet. She finds Jason’s pink face amusing, but isn’t sure how to navigate this awkward situation. Tristan can clearly tell what they’d been doing.

“Piper,” Tristan says, “who is this boy?”

Jason blanches, practically shriveling away into a pile of embarrassment and confusion.

“Oh, this boy?” She gestures to her boyfriend. “Uh, Dad, this is Jason Grace. He’s my, er, boyfriend.”

Tristan nods, his eyes still glued to Jason. “I see that. How long have you been dating my daughter, Jason Grace?”

Piper opens her mouth to speak, but is stopped with a stern look from her father.

“Er,” Jason panics, running his hands nervously against his shirt. “Uh, I think four months? Almost five? Sir.”

“Wow,” Tristan fakes an impressed whistle. He then turns back to Piper. “It’s nice to finally hear about this.”

Jason steps forward, nearly tripping over his own feet. He sticks out his hand shakily. “Sorry, s-sir. I, uh, well I assumed Piper told you. My bad, I’m sorry.”

Tristan shakes Jason’s hand with a strong grip. The two stare at each other for a while, before Jason retracts his hand slowly.

“I think I’m going to, er, get my things and leave,” Jason admits numbly.

“That sounds like a good idea,” Tristan agrees. “Piper and I have a few things to discuss.”

Piper frowns, “Dad, I have pep band at the swim meet later. We were going to carpool together after we finished homework.”

“It didn’t look like homework was getting done,” Tristan notes. “So, perhaps you can meet him there later, yeah?”

“Yes, sir, of course, sir,” Jason stammers as he throws all his homework back in his bag.

“Dad - “ Piper starts to argue, but once more is shut down by her father’s angry stare. She sighs. “Okay, yeah. I’ll see you there, Jason.”

Jason gives her a warm smile, the best he can manage, and nods respectfully at Tristan before he dashes out of the house as quickly as possible. Piper wants to laugh at how comically red and awkward he is, but she remembers that soon she will be alone with her mad father and that laughter mysteriously vanishes.

The minute the door shuts, Tristan groans.

“I knew you’d start dating, Pipes,” he shakes his head. “I just thought we were close enough that you would tell me. And you know, introduce us.”

Piper fidgets with a string on her jeans. “I know, I’m sorry I don’t - “

He interrupts her. “I’m not embarrassing, am I? I think I’m pretty cool. I mean, I’m a firefighter. That’s cool, right?”

“It is,” she permits, “but I don’t know. I didn’t want to introduce him to you until I knew it was, er, serious.”

“Looked pretty serious to me,” Tristan raises his eyebrows. “He was all over you, I mean, it’s burned into my memory how disgusting it was.”

Piper finally turns red, too. She averts her gaze. “Ew, gross, Dad. First of all, we haven’t had se-”

“Ah!” Tristan exclaims, plugging his ears. “I don’t need to know that. Please stop.”

“Clearly you do, since apparently it’s such a big fucking deal,” Piper snips.

“Hey, language,” he warns.

“Sorry,” she grumbles.

He walks around the couch, sucking in a big breath of air as he does so. He takes a spot on the couch and beckons for her to join him. She does, waiting for him to begin whatever monologue he had up his sleeve. This was typical for Tristan McLean.

“It is a big deal, okay? To me it is,” he starts to explain. “Your mother…she was great with this stuff, or she would’ve been, anyway. I miss her every day, but especially when…all this girly stuff starts to happen. I don’t know how to handle this.”

“I know,” Piper smiles sadly. “I remember when I got my first period“

“Hey, I did the best I could,” Tristan chuckles, but his cheeks flush a bright pink.

“You don’t start an 11 year old a diva cup for her first period,” she laughs.

“I learned that lesson,” he laughs, too.

A beat of silence passes between them. Piper can still see clear as day the flustered look on her father’s face when she called him into the bathroom in a panic. It’s the same look on his face right now, as he tries to navigate this odd scenario.

He leans back into the couch, locking eyes with his daughter.

“Pipes, I love you,” Tristan says earnestly. “And, I’m happy you like this boy. I wish you would’ve told me, but now that I know, I think I have to say that you should only do things you feel comfortable with, and when you feel ready to do them. Hopefully in another four years, but I trust you to make that decision. It is your body, just remember to be safe.”

Piper’s nose scrunches up in disgust. She groans. “Dad, I know, we don’t have to have this conversation. And Jason, he’s kinda old fashioned.”

“Uh, yeah we can stop there,” he agrees. “But the rules regarding guests in this house will be changing. And, I want to have dinner - just the three of us.”

“Okay,” Piper smiles. “Jason will like that.”

Tristan gets to his feet, an amused smile on his face. He starts collecting the groceries he had abandoned in the entryway.

“And tell him I’m not scary,” he teases. “He looked like Casper the Ghost.”

Piper laughs, following her father to help him with the groceries. “Does this mean I get to go to Pep Band?” She asks.

“You made a commitment to the band, I wouldn’t let you jeopardize that,” Tristan explains. He gestures to the food he’s putting away. “But I will be making my famous veggie burgers tonight, if you want to join me.”

She smiles gratefully at her father. This man became a vegetarian by association with her, inadvertently, and has never once complained.

“Thank you,” she said, “I’ll heat some up when I get home.”

Then, as a dutiful daughter, leans over to plant a sweet kiss on her father’s cheek. He chuckles, but begins to prepare dinner as she goes to change for the night ahead.

-*-*-*-
Piper was late to Pep Band. She runs into the Goode High School Aquatic center right as the first heat is starting their race. Jason has already saved her a seat near Hazel and Leo among the band. She has to hold on tight to her flute case and watch her step on the slick tile of the pool area.

The large space that was dedicated to Goode’s swim teams had a large, regulation-sized pool with crystal clear waters. The wall behind the pool has a door on either side that leads to the locker rooms, and huge posters on the walls advertising the successes of the programs. Goode may be a small town in New York, but Coach Hedge and the swim team in the last few years has caught the attention of major colleges, news outlets, and state officials. Last season, the Governor came to the State tournament and took pictures with many of the students representing Goode. Percy Jackson being one of them, and one of the only returning swimmers this season.

This was all fine and well, but Piper still doesn’t enjoy Pep Band for swim either. While it is more successful and a tad more exciting than the football games, the air is dense with water, her flute begins to condensate, and the starting gun always makes her leap.

She takes her seat beside her friends after receiving a reprimanding glare from their conductor.

“Is he mad?” Jason asks immediately as she sits. At the same time, Leo and Hazel say, “Dude, you’re so late.”

She takes her seat after giving Jason a peck on the lips, shaking her head.

“No, no,” Piper begins to explain. “He was mad at me, but not you. He wants us to have dinner.”

Jason flushes, “Okay, great. I want that, too. I didn’t realize you hadn’t told him.”

His voice comes out relieved, but also flat. A tinge of worry flickers within Piper. Is he mad at her? Jason’s default mode is patient and steadfast, he never gets truly mad. It’s one of the many qualities she likes about him. Is this the beginning of one of their first fights?

“Yeah, I just knew he - “ but she’s cut off as a huge ovation breaks through the crowded Aquatic center.

Piper looks to the pool. The crowd in the bleachers is standing on their feet and cheering as Percy Jackson’s head pops out of the pool. She knows it's Percy because of how intensely Annabeth is behaving directly across from Piper’s spot - leaping, clapping, cheering, and hugging Silena Beauregard beside her.

“What just happened?” Piper questions out loud.

No one answers, because the conductor at the feet of the bleachers is calling out a cue. Piper hastily opens her flute case and tries to assemble it in time. She joins the celebratory song about halfway through, catching the last chorus before it dies out.

“I think he just broke a school record,” Leo answers, out of breath from his trumpeteering.

Jason nods, pointing to the large screen in the corner of the Aquatic Center. Next to a school photo of Percy, smiling lop-sidedly with barely controlled hair, is a flashing time with the words ‘New School Record’ beside it.

Coach Hedge practically hauls Percy out of the water, slapping him on the ass and taking the boy’s head in his hands to congratulate him. Piper watches Percy bend down considerably so the tinier man can do it, but he’s smiling happily and with pride so she doubts he minds.

“I bet he wins gold at the Olympics in 2024,” Leo looks at his three friends with a devilish grin. “Anyone want to put money on it? How about a hundred bucks?”

Hazel scrunches up her nose. “How much do you even know about swimming? He could be a big fish in a small pond, literally.”

Leo points to a section of the bleachers that has been reserved. Three men are sitting in a group with clipboards and timers in their laps. One of them has a red Stanford ‘S’ on his hat, another has what appears to be the Columbia symbol emblazoned on his chest, and the last scout has an unreadable but undoubtedly venerated school’s logo on the back of his clipboard.

“I don’t know much,” Leo agrees. “But those guys’ do.”

“Jeez,” Hazel blows air out her mouth.

“Yeah,” Piper nods. “I didn’t realize how big of a deal he is. I’m sure Annabeth gets a fucking kick out of that.”

“Oh god, here we go again,” Jason groans. And unlike before, when he gently teased her and provided insight on the situation, he has an edge of annoyance in his tone. Piper picks it up easily and is about to question it, when Leo laughs.

“You should’ve seen them outside Hedge’s office,” he launches into the story like it’s a movie. “The tension was thick. I thought Piper was going to snap Annabeth’s neck, and honestly, I would’ve loved it.”

“Perv,” Piper snorted, shaking her head.

Leo’s face turns bright red. “I didn’t mean like in a sexual way.”

Hazel cackles from her spot, “Uh-huh, sure.”

Jason laughs too. Leo scratches the back of his neck, “You guys can’t keep putting words in my mouth, making me seem like some creep, just for your own entertainment.”

“Sure we can,” Piper teases, thankful that she has successfully changed the subject. Hazel gives her a supportive high-five, making Leo bury his head in his hands. Even so, his body shakes with the telltale signs of laughter.

Leo’s attention is drawn elsewhere, ignoring the teasing cackles from his friends. His eyes go wide and his face begins to flush with attraction.

“Guys, shut up!” He waves at them.

Piper follows his gaze, finding a familiar sight - a girl in their grade who Piper knows well. Her hair is a light caramel, pushed back into a braid. She’s wearing a tight, red Lifeguard uniform as she climbs the Lifeguard tower. She has tan skin and dark, kind eyes.

“Oooo,” Piper cooes, shoving Leo for telling her to shut up.

Hazel feigns a swooning gesture, “Oh, it’s Calypso!”

Except, Hazel is not quiet. Even over the loud splashing of the water and crowd chattering, Calypso hears the sound of her name and looks over. Leo slinks lower in his spot, trying to hide the bright red color of his face.

“You guys are infuriating,” he growls.

His angry reaction doesn’t change any of their reactions. Jason waves with a polite smile, earning one back from Calypso. Piper has to admit, out of all the girls in their grade that Leo could like, Calypso was one of the better one’s. She was down-to-earth, actually gorgeous, and whenever they got stuck in a class together, she was funny as well as hard-working.

“You should just go over and talk to her,” Piper encourages.

“Yeah, she’s really nice,” Jason agrees.

Leo bites at his lip. “I can’t just go over there right now, she’s working. Saving lives and stuff.”

“Oh yeah,” Hazel gestures to the other girl, who is lounging in her spot and twirling her whistle on finger. “She’s super busy at this event, saving all the experienced swimmers from drowning.”

“I’ll go with you,” Jason suggests.

Leo eyes Jason up nervously, his eyes slitting. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah, consider me your wingman,” Jason smiles, sharing a fist-bump with his friend. He gestures to the race that’s currently going on in the water. “We’ll go when this heat is over.”

Leo still looks unsure, but nods. He settles back into his seat, though his eyes remain glued to Calypso. Hazel nudges him gently, “You’ll crush it, Leo.”

They watched the race finish. Percy wasn’t in this one, he can’t do everything after all - Piper has to think that to herself. She knows if she says it aloud she’ll get some confused looks. A boy from the other school finishes first, leaping out of the pool happily. Percy is one of the first people to help his team mate out of the pool and give him a supportive high-five. Even PIper has to begrudgingly admit that it’s a nice gesture.

Jason gets to his feet, slipping past Piper and Hazel. He grabs Leo by the hand, pulling him to his feet.

“Alright, let’s go,” Jason commands. Leo looks uncertain, but nods and leads the way down the bleachers towards the pool.

Hazel leans in to Piper, “How do you think this is going to go?”

“I don’t know,” Piper shrugs, chuckling. “But I’m still excited to find out.”

The pool is empty now, the teams taking some time between sets to regroup. The next swimmers going in are stretching near their lanes, receiving last minute tips from their teammates and coaches. Leo and Jason approaching, with Jason’s tall and lean figure leading the way. Leo follows, looking like a lost boy searching for his parents in the mall.

Jason mumbles something to Leo, who nods diligently. A second later, Leo is nervously raising a wave and shouts out. Piper can hear it from her spot.

“Hey, Calypso!” He says, surprisingly putting on a relatively confident tone.

Calypso looks over again. She’s vaguely confused, her eyebrows furrowed together but a smile still on her face nonetheless. She sits forward in her chair, responding to Leo with something that’s ineligible.

They’re relatively close to the Calypso’s chair by now. Leo opens his mouth to respond, his eyes wide and stressing to think of something one the spot. Before he can actually form any real words, Jason sticks out a subtle foot in front of him. No one would’ve been able to spy this deceptive act unless they were looking for it, like Piper and Hazel. The girls suck in a breath to withhold their laughter as Leo fails to avoid Jason’s shoe, and tumbles face first over it and into the pool with a loud splash.
Everyone in the pool area looks over, finding a floundering Leo attempting to remain afloat. His clothes are weighing him down, his curly hair now plastered to his head. He breaks the surface, attempting to swallow whatever air he could get. Murmurs start to break through the crowds, people point and gesture wildly.

“Oh, no!” Jason cries out in fake horror. His hands literally go to his cheeks to try and sell the act.

Hazel’s hands grip onto Piper’s arm, her face stuck in a plastered look of shock, entertainment, and pure joy. Piper imagines her face looks relatively the same.

Calypso moves quickly and gracefully. In one swift motion, she grabs the red life support floatie from beside her chair and swan dives into the pool. Unlike Leo, she cuts through the water like a knife through butter. She paddles quickly over to Leo, breaking the surface right near him and slipping an arm under his shoulders.

It doesn’t take a lot for Calypso to grab Leo’s body like a sack of potatoes, and lift him onto the red floatie. He coughs water back into the pool as he slumps onto the rubber. From behind, Calypso starts to push and paddle him back to the side of the pool. While Leo looks like a ferret that got run through the washing machine by accident, Calypso looks like she was born in the water. With her hair slick and wet, she looks like a Playboy model while getting herself and Leo out of the pool and back on solid ground.

Jason grabs Leo the minute he’s on dry land, looking flushed with relief. He’s a decent actor.

“My Leo!” He cheers, “Thank you for saving my Leo.”

Calypso rings out her hair, smiling at Leo. Despite his outward appearance, Leo manages a haphazard smile back at the beautiful girl.

“All in a day's work,” Calypso jokes. “Are you okay, Leo? You look…shocked.”

“Shocked is one word,” Leo shoots a glare at Jason, who pretends to look away innocently.

“Well, go to the doctor if you keep hacking water up,” Calypso instructs.

Leo rubs his arms nervously. “Uh, yeah. Will do. Thanks for saving me, you’re, ah, pretty good at your job.”

“I try,” she blinks angelically. Jason chooses then to start making his way back to the bleachers, leaving the two alone.

“I don’t know how to swim,” Leo murmurs.

Calypso chuckles, “I can tell. I can give you lessons sometime, if you want.”

“Oh, isn’t that a bit weird,” he shifts on his feet. “A man getting swim lessons this late in life?”

“Man is a bit of a strong word,” the girl teases, “but everyone should know how to swim. You’ll never know when you’ll need it to survive. Like, you know, five minutes ago.”

The rest of their conversation is drowned out by the next heat of swimmers diving into the pool and the starting gun’s shot. Jason slips back into his seat, sharing a victorious smile with the girls.

“That was kind of rude,” Hazel points out in between her snickers.

“They're talking, aren’t they?” Jason gestures to the couple, who are still making polite conversation. Leo has warmed up though, and has his normal smirk back on his lips.

Piper grants him that. “Yeah, they are. And we were thoroughly entertained.”

“Ah,” Jason grunts flippantly. “A win win.”

Hazel smirks, “You’re my hero. Next time, tell me to record.”

“Deal,” he nods.

Leo returns shortly, all giggles and butterflies as he takes his seat. The group stare at him curiously, but he ignores them.

“Wow,” Jason sighs, “you’re handling all this surprisingly well.”

“She’s amazing,” he says breathlessly.

Hazel gives Piper a knowing glance, which she returns happily. They may tease and fool around with Leo, but seeing him happy makes joy bubble up within them. He’s like a brother to Piper.

“But watch your back, Jason Grace,” Leo then mumbles dangerously, winking at Jason with a friendly sense of revenge.

Jason laughs, “Happily. I can’t wait to tell this story at your wedding.”

-*-*-*-

The meet is bookended with another outstanding performance by Percy. He doesn’t set any more school records, but according to the giant screen it is his personal best and no one else in the pool comes close.
The band packs up to leave, Piper and her friends among them. Jason helps the tuba player haul his case out of the aquatic center. She has to wait for him near his truck, enjoying the cool relief of the night air after spending the last hour being suffocated by damp air.

“See you, Piper,” Hazel waves, getting into Leo’s car with him.

“Bye,” Piper waves to them. “Oh, and Leo, when you need someone to help you pick out a suitable swimsuit for your date with Calypso, you know who to reach out to.”

Leo stops himself before getting into the car. He puts his hands up in his defense. “I have a swim suit,” he argues.

“But you don’t know how to swim?” Hazel questions.

“It was purchased as motivation to learn,” he insists, “and look, I was right to do so.”

“What does it look like?” Piper raises an eyebrow.

“Oh, they have flames on ‘em,” Leo laughs.

Piper groans, “Yeah, I’ll be sending you some links to new ones.”

Leo shoots her a middle finger before getting into his car. Hazel follows with a fit of giggles. A moment later, his car is backing out of the parking lot. The rest of the parking spots start to clear out, too, leaving Piper alone by the truck. She shivers, pulling her sweatshirt tighter around her.

Jason emerges from wherever he was, the night wind pushing his blonde hair back. He nods stiffly at her as he approaches, unlocking the car with his keys.

“If I knew you were going to be so long,” Piper begins, “I would’ve asked for the keys.”

“Hm,” Jason mumbles, sticking his key into the door to wiggle it free. Piper watches his restrained motion, the tight press of his lips, and his furrowed brows. Her doubts from earlier resurface.

“Are you mad at me, Jay?” She wonders, reaching out to lay a hand on his forearm.

Under her touch, Jason immediately stiffens. He stops what he’s doing, retracting his key. He sighs.

“Yeah,” he nods, “I am.”

“Okay, you could’ve just said that instead of your passive aggressive act,” Piper begins. He gives her a crooked frown. This time, she sighs. “But, I’ll bite. What are you mad about?”

“I don’t know, maybe the fact that you didn’t tell your dad about me?” Jason snaps at her.

Piper steps back, shocked by his sudden aggression. Jason immediately softens, biting his lip.

“Sorry,” he murmurs. “It just really fucking hurts, Piper. You guys are close, I know that. Hell, I’ve heard all about him and your life with him. And you don’t bother to mention me in return? Did I do something wrong? Are you second-guessing our relationship?”

“It’s not that,” Piper shakes her head. “I think…”

Jason pushes away from the truck. He runs a hand through his hair. “I got to thinking, too. I really like you, but maybe all this means I shouldn’t meet him. I don’t want to be with someone who isn’t proud to be with me.”

“What?” Piper gawks. “You’re spiraling.”

“I don’t think it’s ‘spiraling’ to want to be on the same page.” He fires back at her. “And, I want to be with someone who is proud to be with me.”

“I am proud to be with you. We hang out in public all the time,” she struggles to think fast enough to form words. “But if you don’t go to dinner with my dad, he won’t want us hanging out.”

Jason takes a beat to let that hang in the air. The space between them is electric with tension. He puts his hands on his hips. “Be honest with me, Piper.”

“I am,” she insists.

“Do you love me?” Jason questions.

Piper coughs. “What?”

“Do you love me?” Jason repeats. He blinks. “Because, I think I love you. And…it doesn’t always feel like you feel the same.”

She can feel everything crumbling inside her. She bites down on her cheek, her thoughts flooding over one another before she has a chance to sort them out. Jason, seeing her stress, lets out a defeated huff and turns away from her.

“We only started dating this summer,” she murmurs.

Jason nods, clapping his hands together impatiently. “Alright, well, I think that’s my answer. Uh, we should go.”

“I think I’ll stay,” Piper sniffles.

“What?” Jason shakes his head, “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll drop you off.”

She swallows, “No. I’ll stay here, I’ll catch a ride or something.”

His face darkens. “Piper, there’s hardly anyone here.”

“Then, I’ll call my dad.”

The two stare each other down, unsure of what the next move is. Piper feels her feet cemented into the ground, and crosses her arms over her chest. She doubles-down on her stubborn look. Jason sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Fine,” he gives in. “I’ll call you in the morning.”

Piper raises her eyebrows, completely unimpressed. “Okay.”

She steps out of his way. Jason gets into the truck, turning the ignition. He gives her one last mournful look before his old pickup rattles out of the parking lot, leaving Piper alone with her thoughts.

The parking lot is virtually empty now, except for a couple of cars she doesn’t recognize. A blue, banged up car sits right outside the Aquatic Center doors. Two figures are standing next to it, and through the dark Piper can make out the fading smiles on their faces. Clearly, they had witnessed all that had happened.

“Fuck,” Piper curses under her breath.

The blonde-headed figure turns towards the other, saying something inaudible to Piper from such a distance. The other person nods, and Annabeth Chase makes her way across the parking lot to where Piper is standing, depleted and alone.

Piper straightens up as the other girl approaches, attempting to wipe away any sign of weakness. Annabeth is like any predator, she can smell fear and feasts off of emotional turmoil. After Jason’s display and Piper’s poor reaction, she was nothing but emotional turmoil. She wouldn’t give Annabeth the satisfaction of using that against her.

“Hey,” Annabeth says quietly as she walks up.

Piper gives her an awkward wave, “Hello.”
“I just wanted to let you know that I’m organizing a bake sale as our first fundraiser,” she tells Piper firmly. “I got permission from Mr. Blofis to set up stands during passing times next week.”

She says it so flatly, like it’s more of a statement rather than a conversation starter. Piper shoves her hands in her pockets, nodding along.

“Okay,” she responds.

Annabeth stares back at her expectantly, “Do you want to make something? Percy’s mom is already making cupcakes and cookies, I’m going to make brownies and Rice Krispy treats.”

Piper’s eyes widen, realizing that Annabeth isn’t asking. She nods again. “Yeah, I’ll find something to make, I guess. Just let me know when you need them.”

“Cool,” she smiles faintly.

Silence falls between the two. Piper feels her anxiety starting to constrict her throat. She looks back at where Jason’s truck once was, the spot sitting empty. The entire time she can feel Annabeth’s intense eyes lingering on her.

The other figure by the car, Percy, clears his throat. It’s loud and lasts much longer than it should. Piper’s head looks over to make sure he’s okay. He is, he’s doubled over attempting not to laugh through his mangled coughing sounds. Annabeth rolls her eyes.

Once the fake coughing dies down, Annabeth lets out a strained sigh.

“Do you need a ride?” She asks. “Percy is giving me one home and, well, we thought you could use one.”

Piper has to bite down on her cheek to keep a blush of embarrassment from appearing. The last thing she wants is Annabeth’s pity or for them to know how humiliated it makes her feel.

“Yeah,” Piper forces herself to say. “That would be great.”

“Great,” the blonde repeats, practically stunned that Piper agreed. She then turns around and walks back towards the car. She doesn’t wait or check for Piper to keep up.

When they approach the car, Percy has an infuriatingly happy smile on his face. Though, Piper supposes if she had just broken a school record and her personal best time in the pool, in front of D1 scouts, she would feel the same.

“Ladies,” Percy bows a little. He opens the passenger side door and Annabeth slips in wordlessly. He shuts it behind her, leaving a split second where it is just him and Piper.

“I don’t think we’ve ever really talked,” Percy begins. He sticks out a hand, “I’m sorry for that. I’m Percy.”

“I know,” Piper mumbles, rejecting his hand shake. “I’m Piper.”

Piper knows she should be nicer. Afterall, his exaggerated cough earlier made it clear that it was his idea to offer her a ride. He didn’t have too, and she’s returning it with sass. But the quirk in his smile and the way he stuck out his hand infuriated her, she couldn’t help it.

“I know,” Percy replies smoothly, a smirk still on his lips. Unlike Piper’s, it comes out with no malice. He then leans forward to open the backseat door.

Piper stares at him, then to the open door, and back at Percy. He raises his eyebrows in response, as if challenging her to accept his polite gesture.

Grumbling to herself, Piper gets into her seat but closes the door before Percy can do so for her. She watches him through the window, seeing that he laughs a little before he walks around the car to get in the driver’s seat.

The interior of Percy’s car isn’t what Piper expected. The seats are leather and well-kept. Beside her in the backseat is his swim bag that smells faintly of chlorine. Blue, fuzzy dice hang on the rear view mirror. The car is older, but in decent shape and care.

“Alright,” Percy says as he buckles his seatbelt. He claps his hands together and looks back at Piper. “Where do you live, Piper?”

Piper does a horrible job hiding her annoyance. Of course Percy doesn’t realize she lives right next door to his girlfriend, why would he? She can hardly blame him, they aren’t friends, he and Annabeth weren’t dating back when Piper spent most of her days with Annabeth, and Piper doesn’t host parties. Yet, it irritates her to no end that he doesn’t have a single clue.

“Right next to me,” Annabeth answers.

Percy’s face falls momentarily, before turning his attention to the wheel. He turns the ignition and pulls away from the building. As the car takes to the streets, an awkward silence fills the car. Piper isn’t keen for conversation, but she can see Percy’s eyes flicking around the car in the rearview.

“Annbeth,” he finally breaks the silence, “do you want to get that Blackjack CD going?”

Wordlessly, Annabeth opens the glove compartment and fishes around for what Percy is talking about. Piper rolls her eyes, watching the center of town pass outside the window. Everything looks much more empty at night.

Annabeth finally pulls out a CD case and slips it into the radio set up. A moment later, a pop-punk tune is striking up and filling in the silence.

Percy glances back at Piper, “Do you listen to Blackjack?”

“Uh, no,” Piper shakes her head.

“You should check them out,” Percy muses, his fingers drumming against the wheel. He mouths the words as he drives, emphasizing the drum beats with his thumbs.

Piper leans around the passenger seat in front of her, to give Annabeth a sideways look. “Do you like them?”

Annabeth quickly matches Piper’s gaze, her eyebrows setting in determination. “Not really,” she answers, “but I don’t listen to music all that much.”

“Annabeth only listens to music when she’s studying and even that’s boring classical stuff,” Percy teases.

“Boring,” Piper repeats, amusing herself more than anyone else.

Annabeth touches Percy’s hand with a warning look, “Piper plays flute and piano.”

“Dope,” Percy smiles. He doesn’t take a beat to acknowledge how awkward the scenario could be, instead he catches her eyes in the rearview with an unmatched sincerity. “Are you any good?”

Piper matches his smile with a knowing smirk of her own. “Are you any good at swimming?”

Percy breaks out into a fit of laughter. And Piper can’t help it, no matter how annoying she finds the situation, his laugh is just contagious. When he can speak clearly again, it’s with a playful tilt to it.

“Touche.”

They don’t talk much for the rest of the ride. Instead, Percy sings for them and occasionally air guitars. Piper wouldn’t admit it, but she actually enjoys Blackjack’s music. It’s not what she would’ve guessed for the king of all jocks to listen to, but if anything that makes her like Percy a little bit more.

Percy pulls his car into Annabeth’s driveway, parking it as close to the door as he can get. The car jerks as he puts it into park.

“Here we are, m’lady,” he jokes.
Annabeth unbuckles herself. She turns in her seat so she can stare daggers into Piper. “I’ll text you with the bake sale info,” she states.

“Party,” Piper retorts dryly.

Annabeth doesn’t flinch, but her lips do purse together. “And if you have any time to man a table, that’d be helpful. Obviously you’re tardiness to all classes will be excused.”

“Can do,” she gives the other girl a thumbs up.

They stare at each other for a moment. Piper’s eyes take in the other girl in the dark car. Her hair is still flawless after a day of school and hours next to a muggy pool, she’s clearly touched up on her makeup because her lips are still glossy and eyelashes fluffed. But the way she stares at Piper invokes such an annoyance within Piper, that she can’t take the time to find a reason to give her a compliment on any of it. Her eyes are a swirling gray that Piper wants to hide from, but her pride doesn’t allow for it.

She wishes she knew what Annabeth was thinking about as they stayed locked together. Was Annabeth noticing all the small details that Piper was? Or is she too focused on the damn bake sale to think it through.

Annabeth is the first to break their prolonged silence. She turns to Percy, giving him a peck on the cheek. Piper has to avert her gaze, sometimes PDA is more uncomfortable when you’re the only person witnessing it.

“You did great today, Perce,” Annabeth tells him. “I’m sure you’ll hear back from the scouts soon. Try not to stress too much.”

Percy looks back at her with a loving intensity, “Thanks, Beth. And you should try not to worry so much about Prom. You’ll get the money you need.”

The couple shares a kiss on the lips, longer than Piper anticipated. She doesn’t try to hide the roll of her eyes when she looks away again. When they pull apart, Annabeth opens her door and steps out of the car. Piper unbuckles her seatbelt to follow.

“Whoa, what are you doing?” Percy objects. His hand reaches out as if he could stop her, but falls halfway between them. “Jackson Cab Services offers door-to-door service.”

Piper frowns at him, gesturing to the small yard between her house and Annabeth’s. “It’s like, twenty feet away. I think I can manage it.”

“I’m sure you can,” he offers, “but I won’t allow it.”

Annabeth, standing with her door still open, rolls her eyes. “Whatever you want to do, Seaweed Brain. I’ll text you later.”

“I look forward to it,” he smiles back at her.

The other girl then shuts her door and begins the walk to her front door. Piper sighs, remaining in her seat. That earns her a polite smile from Percy.

They wait in Annabeth’s driveway until she enters the house. Then, Percy pops his car in reverse and carefully backs out. Seconds later, he puts the car back into park in Piper’s driveway.

“Thanks, Percy,” Piper mumbles, turning to push open the door.

“Wait a second,” he responds.

For some reason, she doesn’t fully understand, Piper does wait. She retracts her hand and turns to face the boy in front of her. A smile greets her.

“I just want to say, even though Annabeth won’t, that she will appreciate your help with Prom fundraising,” Percy says earnestly. “She really wants it to go off without a hitch, she’s been planning it all summer. It was going to be a lot for her and I to handle alone, though. So, she’ll appreciate whatever help you give her.”

Piper blinks, “It’s not like I have much of a choice.”

He shrugs, “Still, she can be stubborn. We appreciate it.”

“Hmm,” she groans, once again going to open her door.

“She doesn’t hate you, you know,” Percy muses.

Piper takes the bait, once again letting the handle go. She turns to Percy. By now, he’s leaning back in his chair in such a self-satisfied manner that he’s beginning to annoy Piper again.

“What?”

“She doesn’t hate you,” he repeats. “You annoy her sometimes but mostly she just doesn’t…know you anymore, and that hurts. So, she distances herself. That’s all.”

Despite herself, Piper smirks. “Did she tell you what happened between us? When we were best friends?”

Percy shakes his head. He’s no longer smiling, but there’s a glint in his eyes that makes Piper uncomfortable.

“No, she didn’t,” he answers. “But I don’t need to know what happened to know that you both got hurt.”

Piper scoffs, finally opening the door. She leans into the car one last time. “Thanks for the ride, Percy. But next time you feel the need to go around giving Annabeth advice, maybe you should know what really fucking happened.”

Without another word, Piper shuts the door behind her and marches up to her house. Percy’s car remains in the driveway, its lights giving her a runway to the front door. She can still hear the engine when she enters her house, the headlights not dipping out of sight until her front door closes safely.

Piper curses Percy under her breath, of course he was going to make sure she got inside all right. That’s just the kind of obnoxiously considerate thing he would do.

“Hey, Pipes,” her dad says cheerily.

She turns around, where Tristan is relaxing on the couch with a soda and a bowl of popcorn.

“Hi,” she greets lazily.

He gestures to the spot on the couch beside him, “I’m watching The Princess Diaries, wanna join?”

Piper opens her mouth to decline and go focus on homework, but she stops herself. She relaxes herself and nods.

“Actually, yeah, I would like that,” she agrees.

She crossed into the living room, slumping onto the couch beside her father. He hands her the bowl of popcorn, and she munches on some of the buttery goodness.

“Oh, gross,” she wrinkles her nose, “it’s kettle corn.”

Tristan laughs, “I thought you wouldn’t be home till later so I made my favorite.”

“I guess that’s fine,” she teases, finishing her handful and focusing on the movie.

Her dad gets to his feet, walking into the kitchen. A second later, Piper can hear the buttons on the microwave and knows that he’s heating up some leftover dinner for her. Sure enough, he returns moments later as Mia is starting her makeover and hands her a plate with a veggie burger and fries.

“Here you are,” he smiles.

Piper takes the plate, “You didn’t have to do that, Dad, I would’ve gotten it.”

“I didn’t want you to miss the movie,” he says sweetly, taking his place back on the couch. To prove his point, he gestures to the scene. “It’s getting to the best part.”

She can’t argue with that and focuses on her meal. As she chews, Tristan lets out a content sigh.

“This was one of your mother’s favorites,” he muses. “She loved watching it with you.”

Piper feels her heart swell a few sizes. She remembers the times her mom would make a fort in the living room and rent a movie with her, sometimes Annabeth was included. When she thinks of that, though, it puts a sour tint on an otherwise happy memory.

She forces that out of her mind, instead choosing to enjoy the moment with her father. Work at the firestation keeps him busy and Piper is usually all booked up with band or private lessons. Domestic moments where it's just the two of them are a rarity she never takes for granted, especially after her mother.

Maybe that's why she never told him about Jason. Jason was new to the dynamic, new to Piper, and after losing her mother it's no wonder she would have an issue saying the big three words to him. That’s not surprising. And maybe her issue with telling Tristan stemmed from the few days a week they can fit in quality time together. The last thing Piper would want to do is risk that time, especially when they weren’t always sure when they’d see each other again.

Or maybe Jason was right. Maybe she was questioning her relationship with him. It was new, sure, but that doesn’t mean she can’t feel what he clearly is. If she is questioning it all, wouldn’t it be easier for her to figure it out now, rather than later?

“Everything all right, Pipes?” Tristan wonders, slowing his chewing down in order to talk.

Piper puts on a smile and nods, “Yeah, everything is great, Dad. Thanks for dinner.”

Tristan’s megawatt smile widens, and he gives her an affectionate pat on her ankle - the only part of her near his side of the couch. It’s a bit awkward, but it makes her feel special.

Piper finishes off her fries and turns her attention back to the movie. Jason wasn’t going anywhere. She’s not going to soil anymore time with her father.

Chapter Text

Annabeth can’t stop thinking about Piper.

For a whole week, her former best friend is on constant replay in her mind. When she’s doing homework on the patio, her mind wanders to the way Piper’s fading red streak of hair makes flashing appearances as she walks. In the morning when she should be focusing on applying her eyeliner, she can’t get the way Piper’s eyes catch the light out of her thoughts.

Most of all, she can’t move on from Piper in the backseat of Percy’s car. It was so strange to see someone once so familiar and now so foreign in a place she has only connected to good memories. Piper had been ever-so-slightly slouched, her eyes heavy and Annabeth could smell her coconut perfume or lotion - whatever it was - all the way in the front seat. When she closes her eyes to sleep at night, the five-second span in which Piper’s plump lips formed the word ‘party’ in the driest manner possible, is glued to the back of her eyelids.

It’s driving her insane.

This particular day, as she’s attempting to read her rice krispie instructions, her mind is stuck on Piper’s laugh. Of course only Percy would have managed to get the girl who hates her the most to crack up. Laughs don’t change much as you age, Annabeth found out, as Piper’s giggle-snort of a laugh reminds her immediately of snow days spent sledding in the backyard and drinking hot chocolate near the fireplace.

“Something on your mind, Annabeth?” A sweet voice interrupts.

She looks up. Sally Jackson is standing across the kitchen island from her, mixing something together in a large bowl.

“Nothing important,” Annabeth shakes her head. She pushes a strand of hair out of her face. “I’m just trying to find where the recipe starts and this author’s life story ends.”

Sally laughs with a smile that fills her whole face. Annabeth can’t help but hope that when she’s the same age, she’d look half as good. Sure, Sally’s face has aged but the only wrinkles evident are from laughter around her eyes and the corner of her lips. Her dark brown hair, which is pushed up into a messy bun, has started to take on heavy gray streaks that she manages to make so elegant.

“That’s what happens when you get a recipe off the internet,” Sally teases. “If you look in the cabinet next to the fridge, I should have a recipe hidden in there from when I brought some to Estelle’s class.”

Annabeth shrugs, tossing her recipe away and beginning her search in the cabinet for the one Sally had used previously.

“Thanks for doing this,” she gushes. “I’m no baker and I don’t really know anyone else who is.”

Sally finishes her mixing of what appears to be blue frosting and starts to set up a frosting bag. The whole time she has a satisfied grin on her face, but Annabeth’s compliment makes a new light shine in her eyes.

“It’s no problem at all, you know I’m always here when you need me,” Sally replies.

It only takes a glimpse of a heavier look for Annabeth to understand the deeper meaning. The ‘if you ever need anything a mother would provide, I’m here for you’ subtext makes her heart swell. She blinks to keep tears at bay.

They work in silence for the next while. Sally hums softly while beginning to frost the cupcakes that had already cooled off from earlier. Annabeth assembles all the ingredients for her rice krispies, and finds that she enjoys this domestic silence with Sally. She knows she’s playing pretend like a child, fooling herself into believing she has a genuine mom for a few hours, but she’s okay with that. Fuck Sheila, and fuck Annabeth’s biological mom, wherever she is.

“So,” Sally breaks the silence. “I know Prom is still a few months away, but…”

Annabeth’s interest is piqued. She glances up from her workspace, trying to contain the mix of nerves and excitement that has already begun to brew inside her.

“Yeah?” She encourages the conversation.

“Whenever you begin your hunt for the perfect dress,” Sally continues in a sweet tone, “you should send me pictures. That way I can make sure Percy matches. If you two are going together, that is. He talks about you all the time, so I just assumed…”

Annabeth chuckles, nodding to hide the pink blush on her cheeks. “We are going together, I mean we haven’t made exact plans yet, obviously but…Yeah we’re going together.”

“That’s great,” the mother breaks into a huge beam. “I just love you two. You make such a cute couple. And you’re good for him. He’s disciplined when it comes to swimming, but…well, you’re a good influence on his school work - let’s just say that.”

“It’s teamwork,” she insists, “we help each other stay focused.”

Sally smirks knowingly, like she doesn’t exactly believe it, but she doesn’t push. She watches Annabeth for a moment, before moving closer to her.

“Here, I’ll melt the marshmallow,” she offers, taking the bowl from Annabeth gingerly. “Last time I made a huge mess and I wouldn’t want you to do the same.”

Annabeth surprises herself by letting Sally take the bowl from her, watching as the more experienced baker carries the bowl over to the sink and dashes a few sprinkles of water on top. Then, she pops the bowl in the microwave and heats the treats in specific intervals under a watchful eye.

“Sally,” Annabeth begins carefully.

“Yeah?” Sally replies, still watching the microwave.

“Um, you could always help me pick out the dress,” she suggests, her voice coming out more timid than she intended.

Sally turns around, ignoring the beeping microwave. Her eyes are wide in a mix of confusion and hope. She blinks a few times.

“Really?” She double-checks. “You don’t have to include me, I understand if you’d rather go with friends or something. I really only need the color to help Percy with his tie and the corsage and such.”

Annabeth shrugs, hope already beginning to swell in her stomach. “Of course you can come. My friend Silena is going to want to come too, but other than that I don’t really have anyone else interested. I could use your opinion.”

Sally nods earnestly, finally removing the marshmallows from the microwave. She returns the bowl to Annabeth gingerly, an eager glint in her eyes.

“I look forward to it,” she says. “You just give me a heads-up and I’ll be there.”

“Great,” Annabeth returns the smile.

They return to their work comfortably. Sally begins to share a story from when her and Mr. Blofis first met, and Annabeth makes sure to listen intently. Both of them can’t wipe the pleasant smiles from their faces. And for those moments, Annabeth is able to blissfully ignore the millions of thoughts floating around her head, all tracing back to one particular neighbor.

-*-*-*-

That Monday, Annabeth arrives at school early. The entire building is unnaturally quiet, with the exception of some staff members preparing for their first classes of the day. She feels out of place as she makes her way to Mr. Blofis’s room, like she’s breaking some unwritten rule for arriving too early.

Still, she finds it a great deal more relaxing than moving through the halls during the normal school day. There’s no one around to watch her every move and whisper behind her back, she doesn’t have to avoid the huddles of underclassmen, or keep an eye out for large football players jostling one another like they're still on the field.

Mr. Blofis’s door is shut, but the small window reveals the older man sitting at his desk and eating oatmeal.

Annabeth knocks on the door quietly so as not to scare him. He looks over, quickly ushering her into his room.

She pushes open the door, letting it remain ajar as she walks in. Mr. Blofis gets to his feet, dusting off his hands like they got dirty somehow.

Annabeth always thought that Mr. Blofis, or Paul as Percy calls him, was a good teacher and a kind man. Once she got to know Percy better in the last year or so, she was happy to find out that Sally and Paul were married and Estelle was the result of that. Now, Annabeth secretly thinks Sally could do a lot worse than Paul - not only is generous and funny, but with his salt and pepper cropped hair and strong jawline, he’s pretty good looking for an older man.

“Annabeth,” Paul greets. He gestures to the back of the classroom. “There’s a table you can borrow in the back utility closet. Some of the extra desserts Sally made after you left are with my things in there, as well.”

Annabeth returns his generosity with a kind smile. “Thanks again, I promise to try and stay out of your hair this week.”

“Nonsense,” he insists, sitting back down at his desk, “you won’t be. I just want to help you guys have a good Prom. Percy works incredibly hard, so do you, you guys deserve to have a fun night.”

“Well, thanks anyways, then,” she blushes, quickly moving to the back of the room.

She opens the closet door, finding the exact white table they had arranged for her to borrow and a bag filled with more treats. Using one hand, she grabs the bag and settles it on her shoulder. With her free hand, she hefts the table up off the ground and begins to navigate back to the hallways. Paul is already engrossed back in his school work.

Annabeth locates a spot next to the front office. She folds out the table and tapes the sign she had made at midnight the night prior to the front. In pink and purple puff painting it proudly reads ‘Baked Goods for Prom! $2’ with a horrible doodled cupcake and cookie on either side of the words. Then, she sets out on arranging the packaged desserts in an eye-catching manner on the table.

“There she is!” A voice echoes down the hallway. Annabeth looks up, happiness flooding her as she sees a fresh-faced Percy walking towards her from the front doors.

“There he is,” Annabeth returns, less enthusiastically than Percy.

Her eyes quickly swoop over him, taking in his current state as she always does. His hair is still wet, not any less crazy, but sticking slightly to his head. He’s wearing joggers and a tie-dye hoodie, a pair of Jordans adorning his feet. His backpack is slung haphazardly over a shoulder and he walks towards her with his hands outstretched, two cold coffees in each hand.

“I love you,” she gushes at the coffee. He goes to wrap her in a hug, but she slips out of his grasp, grabbing the coffee that hadn’t yet been sipped on.

Percy sighs, “I always lose out to the coffee.”

Annabeth cherishes her drink. In order to get to school early, she abandoned some of her morning routine - including her morning beverage and parfait, opting for a granola bar instead. It’s moments like these that she appreciates having such a thoughtful boyfriend.

“Sorry I’m late,” Percy says. His eyes are glued to Annabeth with an amused smile, clearly getting some sort of enjoyment from watching her savor the coffee.

“It’s no problem,” Annabeth brushes off. “Everything okay, though?”

He shrugs, “Yup, practice got cut short this morning but I forgot my backpack, so I had to run home. It did give me time to get your coffee, though.”

“Then it was worth it,” she winks. “Are those my shoes?”

Percy frowns, “No.”

She inspects them, noting that she had worn them only a few days ago. “Yeah, I think they are.”

“No.” The boy repeats flatly. “They’re mine, you stole them and I stole them back.”

Annabeth turns her attention back to the table, pretending to make adjustments to the display. “That’s not my fault, you should try having bigger feet.”

“I do!” Percy objects. He lifts a leg up as if to prove a point. “You just have massive feet for a girl.”

She doesn’t respond, instead gives him a side-eye look with a slight raise to her eyebrows. Percy flushes a little and scratches the back of his neck.

“You can’t get mad,” he insists. “You wear the same size as me, you objectively have large feet. It doesn’t mean they’re not pretty.”

A sudden groan interrupts their debate. Standing behind Percy and momentarily hidden by the boy’s height, Piper has her head cocked and a questionable stare.

“Do I want to know what you’re talking about?” Piper drawls.

Annabeth would be lying if she said her breath didn’t hitch in her throat when she caught sight of her. Piper has her hair up in two baby buns, showing off the deep strip of color that has now been changed to a fresh purple. She’s wearing an army green bomber jacket and patched jeans. She’s done some makeup today, a light red highlighting her thick lips and some eyeliner to further emphasize her ever-changing eyes. She’s carrying a tupperware rectangle that must house whatever she had made. A bulky pair of black Docs scuff the ground as Piper’s foot fidgets while awaiting a response.

“Uh,” is all Annabeth can manage to choke out.

Percy, thankfully, is quick to recover. “Hey there, Piper,” he waves, “I like the purple.”

“Thanks,” the girl replies, and to Annabeth’s surprise, it actually sounds genuine.

“I should’ve gotten you a coffee,” Percy frowns. “I forgot you would be joining us. You should text me your order for next time.”

Piper blinks, thinking it over for a few moments. “Iced latte with oat milk,” she announces.

“Okay,” Percy grins victoriously. He takes out his phone to jot it down.

Annabeth clears her throat, earning an icy stare from Piper. Goosebumps run up and down her arms.

“So, er, I have this setup here,” she launches into her explanation. “And I was going to borrow another table from someone to set up in the senior hallway.”

“I can go get the table,” Percy offers.

She smiles at him, “Perfect. Then we can split up our inventory and go from there. I figure we’ll be busiest before and after school but I still want the senior hallway stand to have someone there during passing periods.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he agrees.

Piper frowns, “What about lunch time? Can we move one of these in the cafeteria or something?”

“No, I checked. There’s a rule against food products other than the cafeteria food being sold during lunch,” Annabeth denies, her tone steely.

“That’s dumb,” the other girl complains. “The cafeteria food isn’t even food. And, it shouldn’t be ‘for sale.’”

Annabeth agrees, it’s all stupid. But, she finds herself speaking in a flat tone. “No one’s disagreeing with you, Piper. I didn’t make the rules.”

An awkwardness settles between the trio. Percy’s eyes flicker between the two girls as if thinking on how to best go forward.

“I’m going to get that table now,” he decides, quickly scurrying away before anyone can object.

“Coward,” Annabeth murmurs to herself.

Piper doesn’t hear her. Instead, her frown deepens. “No need for the attitude. I’m just saying if we’re legally required to be here, we shouldn’t have to pay for lunch.”

“I agree, but there’s nothing we can do about it so go take your soapbox elsewhere,” Annabeth snaps. She bites her lip, immediately regretting choosing this battle.

When she looks up at Piper, the other girl is staring at her with a look of utter disdain and shock. She gestures to Annabeth’s entire body.

“All of that was completely unnecessary,” she deadpans.

Annabeth opens her mouth to say something. What was she going to say? She wasn’t sure. She isn’t exactly the type of person to apologize. But before she can summon an excuse, Piper is dropping her tuperware container on the corner of the table.

“This is what I made,” she begins pulling out small bags of popcorn.

“Popcorn?” Annabeth wonders.

Piper shrugs, “Yeah. It sounded like you guys had sweet stuff covered, so I went more savory. There’s three kinds; white cheddar, kettle, and a trail mix.”

“That’s…smart,” she grants hesitantly.

“Really?” Piper’s eyes swell and her voice drips with sarcasm. “Do you mean it? Thank you so much. That means a lot coming from you. I can die happy now that I have your approval.”

Annabeth clenches her jaw, her eyes slitting. Anger begins to bubble up in her stomach. “Okay, why are you always so mad at me?” She snaps.

Piper smirks at her maliciously, “Because you’re so fucking annoying and fake.”

“Oh, for what?” Annabeth tosses her hands up in outrage. “Huh? Fake for what? Trying hard? Wanting to look nice?”

“Frankly?” The brunette sneers, “Yeah. Exactly all of that. And this little princess act you have. Walking around like you can do no harm and are so sweet when you’re actually a conniving asshole.”

Annabeth laughs, a hollow laugh that echoes down the hall. Students are starting to arrive now and it earns them a few stares. Her cheeks heat up, but for once, she doesn’t care what people think. The adrenaline coursing through her veins is blocking that out.

“Okay,” she continues, “if you say so. What happened between us is old fucking news. We were in 8th grade, Piper. That’s middle school. You should move on, because I have.”

Piper drops the last bag of popcorn on the table. She gives Annabeth a bitter smile as she closes the container once again.

“It’s nice to know that all the pain you caused was easy for you to compartmentalize,” she snaps. “And without so much as an apology, I remind you.”

“Sure, blame it all on me if that makes it easier,” Annabeth murmurs dryly.

Piper sighs, picking up her tupperware container and stalking off. As she does, she turns around to walk and talk. “This is going to be so much fucking fun. Can’t wait to continue working together.”

“Where are you going?” She calls back.

“To go find Percy and the other table, like a dutiful workerbee.”

With that, Piper disappears down the hallway. Annabeth sits down at the table, staring at the food in front of her, wondering what the hell went wrong and why her stomach feels like it did a hundred jumping jacks.

Part of her mind, a deeply buried part, does begin to play back the series of events in middle school. She hadn’t thought of them in years. It brings a cold shiver of shame up the back of her neck, she swallows and shakes her head in an attempt to push those thoughts back where they belong.

“Hey,” a voice interrupts her thoughts.

Annabeth looks up to find none other than Will Solace, looking cheery and sunny for a Monday morning.

“Hey, Will,” she smiles softly back.

Will inspects her curiously, like he can detect her conflicting thoughts. Annabeth averts her gaze, worried that his clear blue eyes will be able to read her every thought.

He pushes his hands into his pocket, pulling out some money. “Can I get something?”

“Oh,” she clears her throat, gesturing to the table in front of her. “Sure, what will it be?”

“Hmm,” he thinks, tongue stuck in his cheek. “I’ll take a cookie, please.”

“Coming right up,” she grabs a cookie bag, passing it over to her friend who takes it gratefully.

“Oh,” his eyes catch on to something else. Will picks up a bag of kettle popcorn. “Can I have one of these too?”

Annabeth stares at the popcorn, Piper’s words once again coming back to haunt her. Weakly, she nods. “That’ll be 4 bucks.”

Will forks over exact cash. Annabeth slips the cash into a decorated, homemade box with green glitter glue all over it that Estelle had helped make. When she peeks back over, Will is still lingering in front of her table.

“Can I help you with anything else, Will?” She asks, attempting to drop the attitude that Piper had pulled out of her.

“Er, yeah,” he shifts on his feet. “I hate to ask, um, but have you gotten a chance to talk to your dad? I don’t want to sound ungrateful but I mentioned it to my mom and now she’s asking all the time.”

Annabeth’s smile dims, furrowing her eyebrows together. She pinches her nose. “Oh, no, Will. I’m sorry, I haven’t. To be honest, I haven’t seen my dad much recently.”

Will’s face pales in embarrassment. He averts his gaze, failing to hide how uncomfortable he feels. He shakes his head.

“I get it, no problem, really,” he fumbles over his words.

She stares at the boy for a moment, chewing on her lip. He starts to shuffle off when she calls for him to come back.

Will stops in his tracks, turning to look at her once more. Annabeth gives him a soft grin.

“You're in calculus, too, right?” She questions.

“Yeah,” he nods.

She shrugs. “Why don’t you come over to help me study tonight? My dad should be home for dinner. That way we can help each other out and he can see for himself how Johns Hopkins would be lucky to have you.”

A hesitant but excited smile falls onto Will’s sunny lips. “Yeah, sure. That sounds good.”

“Great,” she smiles back. “Cheer should be done by 4 so come over anytime around then. I’ll send you the address.”

Will blinks, “I-I know where you live.”

“Oh,” Annabeth falters. This isn’t the first time that she’s forgotten how most of her classmates know her address, regardless of how frequently they talk. “I’ll see you, then.”

“Okay,” he agrees again. He stays in front of her for a moment, before cocking his head at her. “You know I’m gay right? This isn’t, I don’t know, some weird date thing?”

She can’t hold back the laughter that comes out of her. It echoes down the hallway, almost embarrassingly loud. Will studies her with intrigue, the barest hint of a smile on his lips as he tries to understand what is so funny. As the laugh lingers, he attempts to join in but it putters out.

“It’s just studying,” Annabeth sighs as she attempts to catch her breath. “I promise. I’m dating Percy.”

Will smiles genuinely, no longer hesitant. “Good, just making sure. I’ll see you later.”

“Wear something nice,” she adds hastily with a wink, “my dad will be excited to meet my boyfriend.”

The boy rolls his eyes and gives her a silly thumbs up before disappearing down the hall. Refreshed and cheered up, Annabeth returns to the new line of customers that has formed in front of her booth.

-*-*-*-

“You need to apologize,” Percy’s voice cracks through the other line of the phone.

Annabeth gets out of her car, holding the phone up between her ear and shoulder as she struggles to carry her backpack and smoothie out of the car with her. She scowls as she slams the car door shut, wondering why everyone decided to try and annoy her today.

“Percy,” she says slowly, careful to watch her tone. “Things with Piper are complicated. You don’t understand.”

There’s a pause on the other end of the line. Annabeth takes this time to start organizing her defense statements, starting from the most understandable to the least. She unlocks the door, walking inside and straight to her room. She barely gets a glance from Sheila, who is reading in the living room.

“I understand,” Percy continues, “but that doesn’t mean you guys have to be so mean to each other. Didn’t everything go wrong in middle school? That’s basically another lifetime. We’re all different people now.”

Annabeth knew what Percy meant. Everyone changes a lot between 8th grade and their senior year, both physically and emotionally. Percy, for example, had grown three feet, gained the sturdy muscles of a swimmer, and learned how to dress less like a delinquent. Most importantly, though, he set his mind to swimming and dropped all of his mischievous behavior. If you look into his file, he was nearly expelled from their middle school for some stupid prank he pulled on one of the teachers and that wasn’t the only disciplinary measure they had to take.

So of course Percy is going to advocate for Piper. And if Annabeth really thought about it, he was still advocating for her too. He would never turn his back on his girlfriend fully, but frankly she was too angry to be understanding.

“I told her that, Percy,” she murmurs. She begins to change out of her workout clothes from cheer, throwing her bag into the corner of the room haphazardly and turning her phone on speaker.

There’s shuffling on the other end of Percy’s phone before he speaks again. She can vaguely hear his teammate, Frank, yelling at something or other. Probably whatever video game they're playing together.

“Is Frank hearing all of this?” Annabeth asks, no longer able to hide the edge in her voice.

“No,” Percy insists.

“Well, he’s hearing your end of it,” she argues. “The last thing I need is more people talking about the drama between Piper and I.”

That was true. Ever since this morning, she had heard the whispers - whispers she normally tries so hard to avoid. The stares she attracted were a little more hostile. She didn’t have to be a genius to connect the dots. It’s not that she doesn’t trust Frank, he’s a down-to-earth guy and one of Percy’s closest friends, but she wasn’t in the mood to take risks.

“He’s not listening, Beth,” Percy replies. “He has a headset on and is playing Fortnite.”

She purses her lips, “Fine. I’m going to go, though. Will is coming over soon.”

“Will Solace?” He asks, surprised but without a single drop of concern.

“Yeah,” she slips into a pair of joggers and an old cheerleading shirt, “we’re studying and trying to schmooze my dad so Will can get into a good school.”

Percy snorts, “Good luck to Will.”

“He’ll need it,” Annabeth agrees amicably. She isn’t exactly happy with Percy still, but she’s not mad either.

“Have fun,” he teases. Then, with a much more serious tone. “Think about what I said, though. We’ve all changed so much. I know you have.”

Annabeth opens her mouth to argue. She wasn’t exactly close with Percy in middle school. It was a small town, so they were familiar with one another. But at the time, Percy was the leader of the skate rats and constantly in-and-out of detention. Their crowds didn’t exactly cross paths.

Before she can make her claim, Percy is cheerily reminding her of his love and hanging up the phone. She curses him under her breath, flopping onto the bed with a groan.

He knew her too well. He left her with a heavy, introspective question on purpose. Of course it would stick with her. It would stick with anyone, especially someone as logical and thought-driven as herself.

Annabeth was different, but in many ways she was exactly the same. She’s still orderly and spends way too much time thinking about school, where her future is headed, and how much her reputation means to her father. On the other hand, she’s much more anxious. It’s no secret that her constant balancing act at school has begun to affect the rest of her life, for better or for worse. Her mind is constantly running a dozen different cost-benefit equations to figure out what her next move is.

Is sleeping in for an extra hour worth the hushed voices judging her makeup-less face? If she quits cheer to give her more time with Percy and her friends or even to do homework, will she be able to hear her dad’s snide comment about ‘representing the Chase family?’ And if she quits her charitable work with the women’s shelter in favor of a job, will she still get into her top schools?

She has changed. And Annabeth is pretty okay with that, probably.

At the end of the day, despite the changes, she likes her life a hell of a lot more than she did in middle school. She has Percy, Silena, even Frank and now, Will, who bring her a lot of joy. Her dad is a lot less annoying (still a pain in the ass, though) and she is on track to her dream job. What is there not to like?

A nagging thought disrupts her. A cold chill flushes over her skin, the same feeling she gets whenever her persistent conscience reminds her of what happened in middle school. It’s a feeling she’s been getting a lot recently, ever since Piper had stumbled back into her life.

Annabeth has changed, and she’s okay with that reality. However deep down she knows, on some level, that Piper was a sacrifice for that change. While Annabeth went on to thrive, Piper may’ve paid the price. Was it worth it?

Nausea begins to churn her stomach. She bites hard on her lip to keep from running to the bathroom.
Suddenly, the doorbell echoes throughout the large house. She nearly jumps out of her skin. A flare of annoyance makes her frown deepen before she remembers that it was her idea to invite Will over.

“Annabeth!” Sheila’s shrill voice shouts from down stairs. “Your friend is here.”

Annabeth gets to her feet, rushing down the stairs. She’s mature enough to admit that she did basically stomp to the bottom, where Sheila is waiting with a cocked eyebrow and thinly pressed smile.

Behind her, Will is standing awkwardly. He has his usual sunlit grin and warm aurora, his backpack slung over his shoulders and the orange of his shirt bringing out the soft blonde in his hair.

“Hi, Will,” Annabeth greets, a little too happily.

“Hi,” he waves. His eyes flicker nervously to Sheila.

“We can study in my room,” she promises. The underlying message was clear, no one will bother them there.

Sheila looks between the two. “Is that appropriate?” She ponders.

“He’s gay, Sheila,” Annabeth snaps. “But I’ll leave the door open, if it will make you more comfortable.”

“Oh,” her step-mom does a horrible job at hiding her shock. “No, that won’t be necessary.”

“Great,” Annabeth turns on her heels, bounding back up the stairs without another glance at Sheila.

A moment later, she hears Will follow and leads the boy into her room. She shuts the door just loud enough for Sheila to hear and hopes that the passive-aggressiveness is clear.

They settle into the room, Will taking a spot at Ananbeth’s desk while she cozies up on her bed. He begins to unload his backpack while Annabeth opens up her textbook.

“So, that’s your step-mom?” Will says, once enough time has passed for Annabeth to calm down. Whether or not this was intentional on his part, she isn’t sure, but regardless it’s appreciated.

“Yeah,” she frowns, “I don’t like her much.”

“I don’t blame you,” he nods.
Annabeth pauses, “I didn’t mean to out you to her, I’m sorry. I guess I just assumed you were out to most people, but I shouldn’t have.”

“It’s no issue, really,” Will smiles over his shoulder at her. “I am out. But, I appreciate your concern.”

“Of course.”

They navigate to the right page in their textbooks and find some blank space on their notepads, all in silence. And to her surprise, she doesn’t feel uncomfortable. For someone she has just begun to get to know personally, there’s an unspoken level of familiarity between her and Will. She wishes it was this easy with everyone in school.

“I’m really bad at calculus,” Will announces with a stutter of a laugh.

Annabeth smiles, “I’m good at it, I think.”

“Great,” he flushes, “because I’m going to need all the help I can get.”

“Come over here and let me see what you have so far,” she orders.

Will bites down on his lip, but gets to his feet and joins her on the bed. He lays out his notebook for her and Annabeth begins to inspect his work. He’s only making a few of the same, simple mistakes over and over. An easy enough fix.

“I see what you’re doing wrong,” she says, and begins to launch into her correction.

Will dutifully pays attention the whole time, unafraid to ask questions when they come to him. Time begins to blur by, and eventually they move on to Annabeth’s literature homework. This week’s assignment was original poetry and they share many laughs at her horrible attempt at a sonnet. It becomes apparent that Will is not much better.

Eventually, they ditch homework all together. Will walks around Annabeth’s room, inspecting her books and music collection. They talk like old friends, something that Annabeth doesn’t have very many of. It makes her heart beat fast in the most innocent way possible. Friends don’t always come easy to her.

“What’s your favorite movie?” Will asks. He’s standing in front of her mirror and watching himself play around with one of her pom-poms.

Annabeth is selecting the next song to play off her phone and has to take a beat to think it over.

“Titanic, probably,” she answers truthfully. “I think it’s a perfect movie. It totally captures the majesty of the boat. And you know, the romance and lessons on classism. Or maybe Arrival, that one with Amy Adams.”

Will does a little dance with the pom-poms, making her laugh. He then shakes his head.

“Those are boring,” he argues. “Where’s the cheesiness, the horror, or something with a little thrill to it. You didn’t even mention Bring It On and you're a bonafide cheerleader.”

“We watch Bring It On at cheer camp every summer. You can only hear ‘Brrr, it’s cold in here’ so many times,” she shakes her head. “What is your favorite movie?”

“Blue Crush,” he answers without a moment of hesitation.

“What is Blue Crush?” She giggles.

His mouth falls open, the pom-poms dropping out of his hands and straight to the floor dejectedly.

“Are you kidding me right now, Annabeth Chase?” He gawks.

“Not at all.”

He flops beside her onto the bed. It’s such a simple movement that sticks out in contrast to his hesitation only an hour or so ago and it makes Annabeth unbelievably happy.

“Blue Crush is a cinematic masterpiece about female friendship, empowerment, and also classism,” he explains with a dreamy tone. “And, the backdrop is a surfing competition in Hawaii. What more can you ask for?”
Annabeth blinks, completely unimpressed. “I don’t suppose the cast is made up of native Hawaiians?”

“No,” he frowns, “well, maybe one, actually. The side characters I think are. Listen, it’s a product of its time. But the themes are still clear. We have to watch it sometime.”

“Maybe,” she says with a lack of commitment. If she’s honest, it does sound fun, though. “Try to keep talking about things like Blue Crush to a minimum when my dad is around.”

Will falters a bit, remembering one of the real reasons he’s in the Chase household right now. He runs his tongue over his lips slowly.

“Oh, yeah, that,” he mutters nervously.

Annabeth checks the clock on her phone, turning back to her newest friend.

“Dinner will start soon, which means he will arrive any minute,” she explains. “You have nothing to worry about. Be charming and smart. Ask him about his career and if you act genuinely interested, he’ll be sold on you in no time.”

He sucks in a shaky breath, “Yeah, okay. I can do it.”

-*-*-*-

Annabeth’s family is beginning to gather in the dining room, with Bobby and Matthew helping Sheila deliver the different plates of food from the kitchen. Frederick Chase has yet to make his appearance.

“Are you going to be joining us for dinner, Will?” Sheila questions as she brings out a pitcher of lemonade.

“If you’ll have me, I’d love to,” he answers, stretching his smile wide and batting his eyelashes. Annabeth has to stifle her laugh, but can’t help but notice that Sheila genuinely grins back.

“Of course,” her step-mom nods. She turns to Bobby. “Go grab another place setting for our guest, Bobby.”

The boy grumbles but obliges, disappearing back into the kitchen.

Annabeth rocks on the balls of her feet, “Sheila, is dad here?”

“Yes,” Sheila says, eyeing her up warily. “He’s on the phone in his office. He’ll be out in a moment.”

Bobby returns with another plate and set of silverware, setting it besides where Annabeth normally sits. The group of four take their spots at the table, filling their glasses with either lemonade or water while they wait for Frederick. Bobby and Matthew talk amongst themselves about something or other, while Sheila grabs herself a glass of white wine.

It all feels odd to Annabeth. She tries her best to hide it from Will, so as not to make him any more nervous than he already is but this is another thing a bit new to her and her family. The only people she’s had over for dinner was Percy, when they first started dating upon his request. Silena had been over a few times but it became apparent that Frederick had little interest in her and was always too uncomfortable.

“Sorry I’m late,” Frederick announces as he flows into the room. He’s wearing a sweater vest and bow tie today, and as he passes, Ananbeth gets a strong whiff of cologne and wood.

“It’s no problem, honey,” Sheila immediately responds in an overly sweet tone.

Frederick sits down at the head of the table, his glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. He takes in his family quickly, his eyes falling on Will.

“And who is this?” He asks blankly.

“This is Will,” Annabeth answers. “He came over to study and I figured he could stay for dinner.”

“Hello, sir,” Will smiles with a polite wave. “It’s nice to meet you. Thank you for welcoming me into your home.”

Unbothered, Frederick shrugs, “I hope you enjoy dinner, Will.”

“I’m sure I will,” he responds.

With that, Frederick calls for the potatoes to be passed to him and the family begins to serve themselves. No one talks as the clinking of silverware and plates echoes through the room. Will shares a stiff look with Annabeth, who does her best to send a telepathic wave of comfort to him.

“So, Will,” Frederick suddenly booms, after everyone has begun to tuck into their food. “What do you do?”

Nervously, Will swallows the bite he was currently chewing. “I’m sorry?” He ponders.

“What do you like to do? Are you in sports or any sort of club?” Mr. Chase clarifies.

“Oh,” the boy blinks. “I’m in the debate club, national honor society, and our school’s anatomy team.”
Frederick nods his head slowly in approval while he chews. He then raises an eyebrow, “What is the ‘anatomy team?’”

“It’s students who are interested in entering the medical field,” Will explains. “It’s run by the science department. We do extra studying and volunteer at local hospitals. Our biology teacher has connections at the children’s hospital in Albany and we go there about once a month. Just shadowing them, practicing medical labs, anything that will prepare us for medical school. One time we actually did a week-long camp at the high school with our local forensics scientist doing crime scene work.”

Annabeth feels a spark of joy as Will speaks. His words come out smooth and he moves with such ease. When she looks back at Frederick, he’s clearly impressed.

“Wow,” Frederick grins politely. “I didn’t know Goode High offered such a unique program. Good for you, showing initiative.”

“Thank you,” Will blushes.

Annabeth chooses now to cut in. “Will and I were lab partners in biology. He helped me a lot.”

This doesn’t spark anything new in Frederick. She almost regrets speaking up, she should’ve known better. Afterall, the patriarch of the Chase family rarely enjoyed admitting fault - especially among guests.

“She’s being generous,” Will adds on immediately. “Mr. Papadopoulos can be a tough teacher. We helped each other out.”

Annabeth makes a mental note to thank him later.

“I take it you want to be a doctor then, Will?” Sheila questions. Something dies in Annabeth at that moment. Sheila’s attempt to involve herself was annoyingly transparent.

“Yes, ma’am,” Will confirms. “I’m still deciding whether or not I want to be a surgeon or a family doctor, but I still have time.”

“A surgeon?” Sheila raises her eyebrows. “I could never handle all that gore.”

“Yes, but, Will’s a man, honey,” Frederick chuckles as he takes a sip of his drink. “Men don’t get so bothered by that stuff. We were the hunters, it’s in our DNA. Isn’t that right, Will?”

Annabeth rolls her eyes, not bothering to hide the evident distaste she felt. Out of the corner of her gaze, she can see Will bite down on his cheek.

“Oh, I can’t speak on that,” he disagrees half-heartedly. “But the anatomy team gave me the opportunity to observe an ACL repair. It was really cool. The idea of helping someone that way is why I want to be a doctor.”

If Mr. Chase notices how quickly Will dismissed his thoughts, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he leans back in his chair. “Where do you want to go to school, then?” He asks.

Will blushes brightly. “I’m applying to a lot of places. Harvard, Dartmouth, Notre Dame, Boston University, Georgetown, and some in-state schools, as well. My dream school is Johns Hopkins, though.”

“Understandably so, it’s a program with great prestige,” Frederick offers his approval.

And then, without any probing from Annabeth, his mind wanders into the trap she so carefully set up. He clears his throat, the beady brown in his eyes lighting up with an idea.

“You know, Will,” he begins in a haughty tone. “I have quite a few friends in their history department. I’m sure they’d be happy to put in a good word for an upstanding young man such as yourself.”

Will’s mouth falls agape slightly, his eyes flashing between Frederick, Annabeth, and Sheila with a healthy amount of surprise. Annabeth has to look away in order to stop from laughing. He could win an Oscar for his ‘shocked’ performance.

“I would love that, sir,” Will stammers through a response. “Really, you have no idea how much I appreciate that- my mom, too.”

Frederick smiles, this one genuine. His eyes briefly land on Annabeth. “It’s the least I can do for someone who has been such a good friend to my Annabeth. And, it’s clear you’re a driven individual. They’re always looking for more of your kind at Johns Hopkins, I’m sure.”

“Thank you, that’s very kind,” he flushes a deeper shade of red.

“I’m actually going to have a call with my friends there later this week,” her father continues, “I’ll make sure to add you to the minutes.”

“Thank you,” Will repeats.

Annabeth smiles at her dad, she can’t remember the last time she did that. He nods, turning to his two sons. This part of the conversation is over.

Will stays throughout the rest of the dinner and further earns Frederick’s favor by staying to help clean up with Annabeth. While they begin packing the leftovers and washing the dishes, Bobby and Matthew disappear into their rooms. Frederick and Sheila move out onto the patio, to ‘enjoy the sunset’ with their glasses of wine.

Will is practically buzzing as he moves the asparagus into a tupperware container.

“I can’t thank you enough, Annabeth,” he gushes. “Anything you need, I’m your guy.”

Annabeth just shakes her head, “It’s no problem, Will. My dad…he isn’t the best. Far from it, actually. But if he can help my friends, then maybe there’s a benefit to putting up with his lack of parenting skills.”

“Can’t say I disagree,” Will laughs.

“Your mom doesn’t happen to have connections to NYU or anything, right?” Annabeth teases. “Perhaps she’s a forefront architect looking for an intern?”

He shakes his head with an amused smile, “Sorry. Unless you want to be a hairdresser, you’re out of luck.”

“Darn.”

More silence passes between them until they finish their separate duties. As Annabeth dries her hand, she leans against the counter to stare at Will.

“Hey,” she says, “this might be odd. I just wanted to say I really needed this today. You’re fun.”

Will smirks, “Because of the Piper thing?”

Annabeth groans, “Yes. Good to know everyone is talking about it.”

“It was very public,” he nods.

“Yeah, well,” she sighs, “thanks anyway. I hope, you know, our friendship doesn’t end because you’ve gotten your ticket to school.”

The boy rolls his eyes, “C’mon, Annabeth. Is that really how you see me? You’re stuck with me, now.”

Will’s words make her stomach flutter with a unique type of warmth. He continues talking about something else of less importance, but Annabeth can’t focus on whatever else he is talking about. Her mind keeps rushing over how important this new friendship already is to her.

Who needs Piper? Annabeth doesn’t, she never needed Piper for the Prom fundraising either. It was always Piper that needed her, even in middle school. And Will’s friendship not only makes it easy to push that girl out of her mind, but provides her with another excuse that her changes since middle school have only led to bigger and better things.

She can’t wait to tell Percy that he may be right, but not when it comes to her and Piper.

Chapter Text

Music has always been a reprieve for Piper.

She can remember, clear as day, the first time she played an instrument.

She was in third grade, the only child of two busybody parents desperate to find a cure for her boredom. After Piper had a mini-anxiety attack at her first soccer practice, Dove McLean had the idea to enroll her in piano lessons at the local music store.

Dove took Piper to the music store after school one day, letting the tiny Piper grip her hand as hard as necessary in an effort to provide comfort. The store was hidden away in a strip mall, but had bright neon lights that beckoned to the third grader like a moth to a flame.

Inside, the store smelt strongly of incense and was divided into two main sections - the aisles of records, and the collections of instruments for sale. Piper was immediately drawn in by the instrument section. The shiny brass of a tuba distorted her face in the reflection and made her giggle. Her fingers loved the rough feel of the drum canvas, and the way she got scolded when she attempted to mess around with the trombone.

A woman emerged from the back of the store, shutting a door behind her. The woman was in her mid-fifties, with proudly gray hair and wide glasses. She wore a colorful kaftan that flowed around her when she walked. Piper was awestruck by the woman the minute she made eye contact with her kind eyes.

“Piper,” Dove said softly, “this is Miss Trinity. She’s going to teach you piano.”

Miss Trinity’s smile was ear-to-ear and genuine as she looked down at the child. She clutches her hands together. “It’s nice to meet you, Piper.”

“Okay,” Piper squeaked.

Miss Trinity led Dove and Piper to the back of the store and into a side room. The tiny space was warmly lit, with plants all over the place and educational music-based posters on the walls. A piano sat in the middle of the room atop a shag carpet, and a fluffy wide-backed chair was placed beside it. A basket filled with knitting supplies was on the ground by the feet of the chair.

“Have you ever played a piano before, Piper?” Miss Trinity asked.

“No,” Piper answered, looking nervously at her mom. Dove returned her look with an encouraging grin.

“Have a seat,” Miss Trinity patted the piano stool. “And play around a bit, see what sounds you can make.”

Hesitantly, Piper slipped onto the worn leather of the chair. She stared at the white and black keys for a few seconds, nervously wondering where she should begin. She can feel the eyes of Miss Trinity and her mom on her, so she reached forward and gently presses down on the white, smooth ivory.

And in the clear, ringing sound that echoes out of the instrument, Piper found a purpose. Her face flushed, her heartbeat intensified, and she couldn’t stop herself from adding her other hand and fingers to the mix. Soon, a hideously loud cacophony of different notes is banging around the room. Dove attempted to hide her distaste of the sound, but when Piper looked up at Miss Trinity, she looked so proud that Piper continued with a renewed energy.

From then on, Piper and her piano were inseparable. She went to Miss Trinity’s three days a week, four if other students canceled. On the days she couldn’t go to the music store, she listened to any classical music she could find or practiced on a laminated print-out of the piano keys. She read books at the school library about Beethoven, Mozart, and Chopin. It only took six months of begging for her father to haul a keyboard into her room, carefully placed in front of the window overlooking the street.

Miss Trinity told her she was one of the best students she had. When Dove or Tristan would pick up Piper before dinner, the teacher would flush about how ‘Piper has a natural talent’ and they should ‘consider her a prodigy.’ Music became what Piper looked forward to during school, prioritizing it over her playdates with Annabeth.

And when Dove passed away when Piper was 11, only 2 years after introducing her daughter to her new true love, music was what comforted her. She played Make You Feel My Love at the funeral. She can still see the look on her dad’s face when she hit the chorus. Piper has avoided the song ever since.

Miss Trinity has Piper begin the flute in middle school, and Piper’s love affair with music doubles. Piano was temporarily put on the backburner as she started learning her finger placements with the same tenacity as when she was 9, just beginning on the keys.

So now, as her blood boils from Annabeth’s persistent attitude, her mind is focusing on the repetitive movement of her fingers hammering against the cool silver of her flute. Her eyes are glued to the sheet music in front of her, replacing all the curse words and insults that were floating around in her mind with notes and key changes.

The last note of the song whistles through the room, ending on a pleasant note - if not a little higher than Piper intended. She’s in the back of Miss Trinity’s music shop, finding a pleasant sense of nostalgia in the dozens of growing plants and orange blossom scented candles.

A little bit breathless and with no more music to distract her, Piper is left in an empty room feeling just as empty.

Silently, she packs her flute away and clicks the box shut. She tucks the flute case into her larger bag with the sheet music she was using and moves the music stand into the corner of the room behind a large ficus.

She then shoulders her bag and walks out of the back room, flicking the lights off and locking the door as she goes. The rest of the music store is still functioning, with customers browsing the various records and testing out guitars. Austin Lake, a junior, stands behind the counter waiting for someone to come check out. When he sees Piper emerge from the backroom, he waves with a happy grin.

“Hey, Piper!” He cheers, “You sounded great today.”

Piper scratches the back of the neck. The backroom wasn’t exactly soundproof, Miss Trinity thought the customer’s hearing active music and students’ learning was the best advertisement.

“Thanks,” she mumbles with a heavy blush.

“Have you heard from Miss T?” Austin questions.

Piper stops near the door, raising an eyebrow, “No, I think she’ll be back next week, though.”

Miss Trinity, despite owning and operating the music store, decided at the beginning of the year that she was entering her ‘next and best chapter’ and has been spending more and more time away. Currently, she’s learning to surf in Ojai. A few months ago, she was camping in Yellowstone with friends she hadn’t seen since college. And before she had left, she was already gushing to Piper about trying ayahuasca in Mexico before the end of the year.

For many years, Miss Trinity has been Piper’s mentor in more ways than one. After Dove passed away, she spent more time in the music shop, improving her music ability and learning from all Miss Trinity’s life advice had to offer. So understandably, when she told Piper about her plans to begin traveling more, Piper was extremely hesitant.

“Who is going to teach me?” Piper had argued.

To which Miss Trinity laughed, “Pip, in the last few years you’ve been teaching me far more than I’ve been teaching you. And it has been an honor. It’s time for me to go out and learn from the world again.”

Piper had begrudgingly agreed after many more questions about who would run the store in her absence and what if something went wrong. And, deep down, she knew that Miss Trinity was right. She was getting older and it was her life, she couldn’t center it around Piper when Piper herself would hopefully be moving in at Juilliard a year from now.

“Alright,” Austin cackles. “She’s out there living her best life.”

“I printed out some of the pictures she sent me and put them on the staff board,” Piper told him. “You should check ‘em out, they’re pretty cool.”

He gives her a thumbs up, “Right on. See you tomorrow.”

She waves back at him before exiting the store, the bell ringing behind her as she goes. The sun is starting to set, signaling that she’d been practicing for two hours instead of her normal three. Fuck, Annabeth was even starting to interfere with her music now.

“Hey!” A voice called. “Piper!”

Piper looks across the parking lot, finding an old pick up truck idling in a parking spot. Jason is hopping out from the front seat, waving her over. A lead brick of dread drops in her stomach.

He jogs over to her, his hair still wet from his post-practice shower. He has a hesitant grin on his lips.

“Hi,” he repeats as he slows to a stop.

“Oh, hey,” Piper shoulders her bag higher, failing to hide her shock. “What are you doing here?”

Jason shifts on his feet, shoving his hands into the pocket of his jeans. He blows air out through his lips. “I wanted to see you.”

“Yeah?” She questioned. “You never called me, like you said you would.”

The boy’s hopeful face falls. He squirms a bit under her gaze. “I wanted to, I just didn’t know what to say.”

“How about, ‘hey, I’m sorry, I’d love to hear your side of the story?’” Piper sighs. “Look, I don’t really feel like doing this right now.”

Jason blinks. “Let me give you a ride, at least. We can talk on the way.”

Piper looks at the bus station on the corner of the street. She didn’t particularly feel like talking to Jason, especially since he made it clear he wasn’t exactly up for apologizing yet. But she also didn’t feel like waiting another ten minutes for the bus and sitting on the hot leather seat for another 15.

“Fine,” she gives in.

Jason smiles happily, practically racing her back to the truck. He opens the door for Piper, which honestly annoys the shit out of her but she doesn’t mention it.

She hops into the passenger seat while Jason gets in on his side and starts driving. The first few minutes of the drive are in complete silence.

“How was rehearsal?” He inquires with a stiff tone.

Piper winces. “Good.”

“Great,” he nods.

She sighs, throwing up her hands. He looks over in confusion, his eyebrows knitting together.

“Damnit, Jason, this is annoying,” she admits.

“What?”

“This is annoying,” she repeats in a gravelly tone. “I like you. I’m proud to be with you. And just because I was hesitant to tell the most important person in my life about you, all of a sudden you’re giving me the cold-shoulder?”

Jason chews on his cheek, “I wasn’t trying to give you the cold shoulder.”

“You did,” she bites back. “Without giving me time to explain or collect myself, you just walked off. You told me you would call, that’s fine. We both needed space. And then you didn’t.”

“You could’ve called, too,” he says quietly, “or even texted.”

Piper stares at him. His grip on the steering wheel has turned his knuckles white. His jaw is set in anger and his skin was sickly pale. She’d never seen him like this before.

“I didn’t,” she continues, “because when you didn’t call as you said, I assumed that was it.”

“It?” He questioned.

“Like done, over,” she confirmed.

Jason pinches the bridge of his nose. The corners of his electric eyes are starting to tinge red. An anxious sweat starts to coat Piper’s skin at the idea of Jason crying in front of her.

“You thought I wanted to break up?” He repeats. “And you didn’t try to fight? You don’t even seem that upset…”

Piper feels the clamminess spread to her chest, a heat rising to her face. She stutters, attempting to find the right words. She’s in a corner.

“I-I,” she struggles. “I wasn’t trying to say that. Of course I care. I just…there’s a lot going on in my life right now, Jason. I was trying to sort it all out.”

He murmurs a swear under his breath, staring up as if communing with some higher power. He shakes his head.

“Annabeth, right?” He snaps. “That damn fight you guys got in? Of course. I should’ve known.”

“Not just that,” Piper argued. “I mean, yeah, that distracted me a bit - considering not working with her could cost me my future. But also, you know, cleaning up the mess with my dad.”

“A mess that you created?” Jason tapped on to the end of her sentence, with a haughty tone.

Piper looks out the truck, finding that they are about a ten minute walk away from her house. She unclips her seatbelt.

“Pull over,” she demands.

“What?” Jason does a double-check.

“Pull over,” Piper says again.

Despite his angry huff, he obeys and pulls the truck over to the shoulder of the road. He clicks on his hazards but also snaps on the locks. Piper attempts to flip open the door, slapping it when it refuses to open.

“Jason,” she growls, “open the goddamn door.”

“No,” he says flatly. “We’re talking about this. I said I love you, Piper.”

Piper swallows. “You said you think you love me. I don’t think I can say that yet. It’s all different for me, Jason. You have to understand that.”

“How is it different?” He questions. “I love you. Either you love me or you don’t.”

“I could love you one day,” she says weakly. “I’m just not there, yet. Give me some time.”

Jason stares at her. She averts her gaze, unable to watch his heartbreak behind his eyes. He pushes off the hazards and shifts the car into drive, joining the flow of traffic again.

“I guess I have my answer, then,” he mutters.

Piper squeezes her eyes shut, forcing the tears at bay. The rest of the ride is in complete silence.

-*-*-*-

Days go by. Piper doesn’t hear from Jason, and she doesn’t bother to reach him either. And frankly, though she feels the sorrow swirling around in her, it’s a lot more peaceful in her life.

At least, the afternoons are. She rehearses for a few hours at Miss Trinity’s, long enough to decompress from the day leading up, and is finally starting to nail the current song she’s working on. Then, she heads home to finish up her homework. She ends the night speaking with Leo or Hazel, who also suffered from Jason and Piper’s split. They hardly see him anymore, too.

“How are things with Annabeth?” Hazel wonders. Her face is being reflected on Piper’s phone, showing the other girl lounging in her bedroom as she paints her toenails.

Piper groans, “Don’t remind me. She’s been ignoring me since she tried to rip my face off Monday morning. Which is somehow more infuriating.”

“At least tomorrow is the last morning of the bake sale,” Hazel offers as comfort.

“Yeah,” she muses. “Do you think we’ve earned enough money to throw Prom so I never have to work with Little Miss Sunshine again?”

Hazel laughs, “Not at all. At least, not the Prom Annabeth would approve of.”

“Great,” Piper drawls. “What’s Leo up to tonight? Normally he’s dying to join our FaceTimes.”

“Oh, he has a swim lesson with Calypso,” she explains.

Piper squeals, nearly dropping her phone. She repositions it so she can see a smirking Hazel once more. “No way, he’s actually doing that.”

“He is,” Hazel chuckles. “But he did buy that swimsuit you sent him because his flaming swimsuit was two sizes too small. Apparently his last attempt to use it was in middle school or something.”

“Thank god,” she laughs. “Though I still wish I had pictures.”

The other girl giggles some more, falling into a fit of laughter. “Oh my, just the image of that…” she lets out a curse as her bottle of nail polish tips over onto her comforter.

Her phone drops immediately, showing nothing but blackness. Piper joins in Hazel’s previous laughter as she hears the struggle on the other end of the phone to try and clean up the mess. A few moments later, Hazel reappears on the screen.

“It smells bad in here now,” Hazel announces with a scrunched up nose.

“I wonder why,” she teases. “Why are you painting your toenails anyway? You never do.”

Hazel grins mischievously, “Because I’m going to a party.”

Piper nearly chokes on her own spit. She coughs it out. “What?” She croaks.

“I’m going to Annabeth’s party tomorrow after the game,” Hazel explains in an eager tone. “Frank asked me to come.”

“Frank? As in, swim jock and best friends with Percy Jackson, Frank Zhang?”

“Yeah, Frank Zhang,” she continues. “We have a study hall together and…I don’t know, he’s cute.”

Piper whistles through the corner of her mouth. “Damn, Hazel, get it.”

Hazel blushes, her eyelashes fluttering over her brown eyes. “It’s just as friends, for now.”

“For now!” Piper emphasizes with a waggle of her eyebrows.

“Whatever,” the other girl chuckles. Her voice drops to a more quiet whisper, “You should come, too.”

Piper can’t help but roll her eyes, “Yeah, sure. And while I’m at it, why don’t I try and negotiate peace talks with North and South Korea.”

“As much as I would trust you with a highly-sensitive diplomatic negotiation,” Hazel begins tentatively. “I think you should start with attending a party that most of the school will be at. Including me and Leo.”

“Leo’s going?”

“Yeah, something about trying to get alone time with Calypso.”

She pretends to think it over, sticking a tongue in her cheek. Hazel watches her with bated breath, sensing her clear hesitation.

“Besides, I hear that Annabeth avoids most of the party anyway,” she adds. “Please be my wingwoman!”

Piper bites down her lips. Deep down, she knows she’s going to regret it. But Hazel is relatively shy around everyone else and if she’s willing to take this step, Piper needs to be there for her.

“Fine,” she agrees. “I’ll be your wingwoman!”
Hazel pumps her fist in the air, “Yes! Okay, help me pick an outfit.”

-*-*-*-

Piper wasn’t sure how she feels about parties.

At least, she wasn’t sure until she was standing on Annabeth Chase’s front lawn staring at the rager starting in front of her.

Like most Friday nights, the Chase house is practically shaking from the music and small strobe lights. The game had only ended an hour or so ago, but most of the school was already parked alongside the road or in the driveway and now packing the rooms with their sweaty bodies. The front door is ajar, letting anybody who desired it to just walk right in.

“I don’t like the look of his, Haze,” Piper groans. Her eyes are glued to a couple that had just arrived and clearly were already drunk, attempting to stumble their way to the building and instead, the boy faceplants against the concrete driveway.

Hazel tugs on Piper’s wrist, her face practically glittering. “Come on, we got all dressed up. Let’s go for an hour and if you don’t have fun we’ll both leave.”

Piper still feels the uncomfortable uncertainty flickering in the back of her mind, but she also can see the anxious and excited energy practically billowing off of her best friend.

And, Hazel was right. This week’s game had been away, which meant that they didn’t have to play in the band and that left them much more time to get ready. They both looked smoking, in Piper’s own opinion. Hazel had her hair in tight curls, slipped into two big buns and had chosen a cute yellow sundress that brought out the gold flecks in her big eyes. Piper had loaned her some makeup, so her cheeks were literally sparkling under the moonlight.

Piper, on the other hand, looked like Hazel’s bodyguard. She had a torn flannel on, dangling loosely over a shirt with Nic Cage’s face on it. Her jeans are cuffed, but ripped all over the knees and her boots have doodles all over them. A bright red lipstick is making her feel more confident than usual, and Hazel can clearly tell that.

“Fine,” she sighs. “You’re right. But I’m going to need a drink.”

Hazel sarcastically drops her mouth open, “A drink? At a party? I don’t think so.”

They laugh, which puts Piper’s nerves at ease. Together they take their first steps and walk through the wide, heavy doors. Immediately, they are sucked into the vacuum of a party.

Piper pushes roughly through the crowd into the kitchen, locating a keg and hauling Hazel to the front of the line with her. She quickly fills their cups.

“Let’s find Leo!” Piper shouts to her friend over the loud music.

Hazel nods, “Or Frank!”

“Right, or Frank!” She winks.

The other girl rolls her eyes. They start to make their way through the throngs of people and out to the patio, where half of the football team has already stripped down to their boxers and were playing a game of pool basketball. Outside, the cold air did miracles to cool down Piper’s damp skin and the music was less intense, so her heartbeat slowly dropped to a relatively normal beat again.

She took a sip of her drink, fighting to not scrunch up her nose. She wasn’t much of a beer drinker, especially cheap beer that someone undoubtedly got from some sketchy college kid or worse, a sketchier liquor store who didn’t care much for legal IDs. She manages to stomach the drink in an effort to drunken any remaining nerves.

“There they are!” A voice cries out.

In sync, Hazel and Piper look over to find an already drunken Leo flopping towards them the best he could. His normally curly hair is sticking to his head with some sort of liquid, his eyes are struggling to focus in on the two girls, and the drink in his hand keeps spilling over, staining his shirt.

“Wow,” Piper eyes him up, wondering how long he’d been at the party.

Hazel grabs his forearm to steady him, “What got into you?”

“Shots,” Leo responded with a smirk. “Oh! And beer. Lots of beer. And some Malibu.”

The girls exchange a look of pure amusement. Hazel touches Leo’s damp hair hesitantly, “And so what happened to your hair?”

Leo giggles to himself, taking a few seconds before he can even form words. “I’m HORRIBLE at keg stands.”

“I would pay so much money to have witnessed that,” Piper deadpans.

He reaches forward with a shaky finger and boops her on the nose, “I’m soooooo glad you didn’t.”

“Leo!” A voice cuts through the party ambient noise.

The trio looks over to find Calypso rushing towards them. Her face is flush and she’s stifling some giggles as she greets them.

“Cal! Hey girl, what’s popping?” Leo smirks. Hazel gives Piper an alarmed look and mouths, ‘what’s popping?’ in confusion.

“I just witnessed your keg stand,” Calypso noted. “And I wanted to make sure if you got near the pool, you had a lifeguard around.”

“My hero,” the boy slurred, which made Calypso giggle like a child.

Hazel raises her eyebrows at the extremely flirtatious interaction. “Cal, how are the private swim lessons going?”

“Great,” she answered. “Once we got past the fear of drowning, he started to make some real improvement.”

“You were scared of drowning?” Piper asked.

“Uh, yeah,” Leo scoffed, “someone’s ex-boyfriend pushed me into a pool without warning, knowing I couldn’t swim. That sticks with a man.”

Piper pales, scratching the back of her neck. “I didn’t sign off on that.”

“Did you and Jason break up?” Cal questions. It’s at this moment that Piper suspects Cal is also a little drunk, because what a stupid question to ask if you were keeping up with the flow of conversation.

“Pretty much,” she answers.

“Sorry, that must suck,” Cal commiserates. She then shrugs, “I guess that explains his behavior, then.”

Hazel leans forward, “His behavior?”

“Oh, you don’t know?” Cal says, clearly shocked.

“Clearly,” Piper drawls.

She was getting fed up with Cal at this point, but decides to overlook it seeing as she wasn’t in that good of a mood to begin with. Cal was just the unfortunate victim of her wrath at the current moment.

Cal blushes, “He’s here tonight. I’ve never seen him at one of these before but I think the football guys convinced him. He played pong for an hour and raced someone with a beer bong.”

“So he’s sloshed,” Hazel summarized.

“Pretty much.”

Piper curses under her breath. On one hand she’s happy that Jason is getting out of the house and hanging out with friends, especially since he’s secretly wanted to come to one of these parties for a while now. On the other hand, she hopes that she isn’t the reason Jason is partying so hard.

“I should check on him,” she mutters.

“No,” Hazel says, with a surprising amount of attitude. “You’re here to have fun and help me with Frank, Jason can handle himself. Besides, seeing you while he’s drunk will probably just make things worse.”

Once again, Hazel was right. Begrudgingly, Piper nods.

“I’ll check in on my man J-Money,” Leo slurs, “I’ll go talk to him right now.”

The drunken boy attempts to walk off into the house, but Cal grabs him by the hand and hauls him back into the circle.

“Let’s not and say you did,” she laughs.

Leo says something back to her, but Hazel draws Piper out of the conversation with a tug at her wrist. The curly-haired girl points towards the direction of the pool. “Look,” she says.

Piper follows her finger. The game in the pool has shifted to volleyball and it was getting raucous. A few of the football guys remain (sans Jason) but now the swim team is playing on the other side of their makeshift net. Among them, a messy-haired Percy who is in the process of hyping up the crowd. Beside him, a broad-shouldered boy with a tight black haircut is getting ready to serve the ball.

“It’s Frank,” Hazel gushes quietly. “Let’s go watch!”

Before Piper can say anything, Hazel is darting towards the edge of the deck to join the mass of students watching. Piper drains the rest of her drink as she follows, wondering if maybe she should do a keg stand just to wipe out all of the thoughts in her head.

Up close, they had a great view of Frank serving the ball into play. While the representatives of the football team moved sloppily with little communication and somehow managed to keep the ball out of the water, the swim boys would respond with well-orchestrated responses. Clearly, Percy and Frank were much more sober than their opponents.

“They’re pretty good,” Piper observes.

“Yeah,” Hazel swoons, her eyes glued to Frank as the large teen slams the ball back at the football player. It splashes into the water right in front of the opponent’s face. “Go Frank!” she cheers, joining with the rest of the crowd’s laughter and applause.

Immediately, Percy is celebrating and giving his teammate a high-five, while Frank simply blushes and gets ready to reset. Piper can’t recall a specific time that she’d ever seen Percy interact with anyone other than Annabeth, not that the couple were glued to the hip, but Piper rarely gave the most popular boy in school much attention unless he was with the girl she hated the most. And now, seeing him excited to play a stupid game in front of his classmates and cheering on his team, Piper can begin to see why the whole school had a strange fixation on him.

Frank, on the other hand, was someone Piper had no qualms with. He could be kind of quiet, but was gracious and kind whenever they interacted. He was a large dude, nearing just over 6 feet with a thick layer of muscle from days in the pool, but he never lauded his power over anyone - even the people at school who clearly deserved it. In fact, it never seemed like Frank was aware that he had such strength. The idea that he and Hazel could potentially have something, made Piper excited for her best friend.

The game resets again as Percy narrowly misses the ball and as they turn around, Frank’s wide brown eyes find Hazel among the crowd. His cheeks turn red as he waves to the girl. Hazel practically bounces on her toes, waving back and cheering. Piper isn’t the only one noticing this, as she catches Percy’s distinct green eyes observing the two.

“Let’s call it match point!” Percy announces loudly. He turns to the football guys, “Next to score wins?”

The gathered crowd erupts in approval, spurring the football guys on to accept the challenge. The two teams take a moment to ‘strategize’ with one another, though Piper can’t really imagine any serious conversation going on among them - especially the football team. They spend their little break cackling among themselves and slapping each other on the back.

After their few moments of conversation, both teams break back up and get prepared for the last set. Percy and Frank lay in wait for the serve from the football team, eyes focused on the game.

With a powerful slapping of the ball, the football team soars over the net. Percy returns it easily, and the volley bounces back and forth for a few minutes. The crowd’s eyes are glued to the ball and Piper could admit that she was interested in the outcome, too.

“Is that all you got?” One of the football players teases. “Aren’t you supposed to be an Olympian or some shit?”

Frank sets the ball up for Percy, who spikes it over the net. The other football player leaps forward, saving it just in time with a huge splash. The ball returns over the net for the volley to continue. Percy smirks.

“Not yet,” he quips back, “but I hope you remember this ass-whooping when I am.”

The assembled crowd laughs, earning a bright blush on the football players’ faces as they attempt to hang in the game. They slap the ball back over and Frank returns, the pattern continues. Finally, a lop-sidedly spinning ball careens towards Percy. Instead of firing it back, Percy sets it up to Frank. And like some sort of god, Frank comes soaring out of the water - all muscle and determination - and spikes the ball hard. The sound of his hand on the ball radiates through the crowd. He moves so quickly, the other team can’t react and it splashes down with a loud clapping noise.

Percy practically throws himself at Frank in celebration. Hazel collides with Piper as she leaps up and down with joy, who allows herself to jump a bit with her. Members of the crowd launch themselves into the pool to join in celebration. Piper finds herself drenched from the cannon-balls, she’s already itching for another drink.

She goes and grabs the drink herself, leaving Hazel behind to partake in the festivities. She has to push her way through the partygoers, this time finding some sort of seltzer in the fridge instead of fighting for a spot at the keg.

“Chug! Chug! Chug!” A chant catches her attention. Piper follows the sound into the living room, where a different and much smaller crowd had formed in front of the fireplace.

Standing on the fireplace mount is Jason. Piper nearly doesn’t recognize him. He’s wearing khakis and a light blue button-up with many of the buttons broken or undone, which usually would make his eyes pop, but instead just draws attention to the large puddle of beer staining his skin. His hair, normally very neat and tidy, is sticking up in short clumps all over the place. His eyes are shut as he attempts to chug a beer through a large tube and funnel.

A girl is standing opposite of him, doing the same and looking just as rough. She’s wearing short jean shorts and a crop top, doing considerably worse than Jason in the race to drain their beer. Piper recognizes her as Silena Beauregard, Annabeth’s new best friend and frequenter of the post-game parties.

Jason finishes off his funnel first, triumphantly pumping the empty tube in the air. Dribbles of the discarded liquid douse the crowd, through their cheers they hardly notice. Piper looks around, realizing she’s the only one not rejoicing in the binge drinking.

Silena finishes shortly behind Jason, and he wraps her a tight hug to whisper something in her ear. Piper wants to feel jealous, but in all actuality, she only feels fed up. Fed up that she had dedicated time to someone who apparently was just waiting for an excuse to party. She rolls her eyes, stepping away and gulping down some of her drink.

When she returns to Hazel, she’s pleasantly surprised to find her talking to Frank as he dries off from the pool. Percy lingers beside them, watching with eager eyes as he slings an arm around Frank encouragingly.

“You should consider going professional,” Hazel is saying as Piper joins back up with the group.

“I don’t know,” Frank blushes, “I don’t think the competitive circuit is ready for what I have to offer.”

Percy laughs, messing with Frank’s hair in a teasing manner. “Damn straight, they aren’t ready for your raw talent. Oh, hey Piper.”

“Hi,” she greets sheepishly. “You guys did good.”

“Thanks,” the two boys say in unison.

An awkward silence falls over the small group. Frank and Hazel’s eyes are locked on one another's, a fact that makes the awkwardness that much more uncomfortable.

“So,” Piper clears her throat, “I’m glad you invited Hazel tonight, Frank. We’re having a great time.”

Frank’s face lights up, his eyes flickering between her and Hazel. “Really? I’m glad you came, too.”

“Uh, maybe you and I should go get a drink, Piper,” Percy coughs. He gestures with his neck to step aside.

Piper catches on to his suggestion, a knowing smirk falling onto her lips. “Oh, yeah, I definitely didn’t just get a new drink I should get another.”

She follows Percy off to the side, shooting Hazel a not-so-sly wink over her shoulder as she does. The other girl rolls her eyes, but mouths a quick ‘thank you’ before turning her focus back to the cute boy in front of her.

Percy drags Piper off to stand near the fire pit. A lot of her fellow teens have begun roasting marshmallows and throwing whatever discarded objects they can find into the flames. They find a spot far away from the smoke, but close enough to observe Frank and Hazel from afar.

“He’s been crushing hard on Hazel for years,” Percy laughs. He’s staring at the burgeoning couple and Piper can easily recognize the look of support, it’s the same one on her own face.

Piper smiles faintly, “She really likes him, too. They’d be good together.”

“I agree,” Percy smiles with her. He raises a drink he had gotten at some point. “To Frazel!”

“Frazel?” She questions.

“Yeah, their couple name,” he explains like it’s obvious.

Shrugging, Piper clinks her drink against his own. “To Frazel, I guess.”

They each take a sip of their beverages. For a moment, they sit in that silence and continue to watch Frank attempt to flirt with Hazel. As far as they can tell, between the batting of eyelashes and awkward blushes, it’s going well.

“I saw what you did,” Piper announces with a raising of her eyebrows.

“What do you mean?” Percy wonders. He’s playing dumb, she can tell.

She smirks, “In the pool. You wrapped the game up short so Frank could talk to Hazel, and let him have the winning play to try and impress her.”

“Oh, that,” he chuckles. “We were winning by a longshot anyways. Sometimes Frank can use a little push. He’s a beast in the pool, but sometimes he’s too content to just exist.”

“Well, it’s working,” Piper acknowledges. Then, in a much heavier tone, she adds, “And you're a good friend. Not everyone would do that, not everyone would notice that.”

Percy shrugs her compliment off like it’s nothing. “I could say the same to you, for noticing me noticing.”

She rolls her eyes. “Don’t turn this around on me.”

Once again, Percy laughs. She’s starting to notice how contagious his personality is. Or maybe it’s just the alcohol kicking in. Most likely, it’s both.

“Fine,” he gives in, “let’s just say we’re both good friends, then.”

Piper snorts, “I don’t think Annabeth would agree.”

“Aw, c’mon,” Percy throws his hands up sarcastically. He shakes his head, “You had to ruin it. You just had to bring that up. Here we were, having a great time as, dare I say, friends - and you couldn’t just let it be.”

His contagious personality kicks in and despite the anger constantly bubbling within her, Piper laughs. She shakes her head, failing to hide her giggles.

“Okay, fine,” she admits, “I’m sorry.”

He waves her off, “It’s fine. I think you’re cool. Just don’t tell Annabeth.”

Piper giggles some more, “We haven’t talked since Monday so she won’t hear from me.” She then gestures to the throngs of students around the yard and in the house. “It’s these motherfuckers you have to watch out for.”

Percy pauses a moment. He takes a sip of his drink again, before leveling a thoughtful look in Piper’s direction. “For the record, I do tell Annabeth to take it easy on you.”

“Oh boy,” Piper begins, ready to start telling him off again like she did in his car. The last thing she needs is yet another boy sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong.

“No, no, let me talk,” he insists. “You were right. I don’t know what happened. I won’t pretend to, anymore. But, I do know Annabeth pretty damn well. And while I love her for a lot of things…she’s too proud and stubborn sometimes. Regardless of what happened, you both have things you have to own up to if you’re going to move past this. When grudges last this long, no one involved is innocent.”

Piper stops herself from snapping back some sassy retort. Instead, she forces herself to digest his words. They weren’t exactly what she wanted to hear, but for the first time someone was acknowledging that she may have a point. Hazel and Leo tell her what she wants to hear, which is great for a while, but to have someone so involved with the other point of view take a moment to see her side of things, it makes something warm bloom within her.

“Thanks Percy,” she says quietly. She drenches her throat in another sip of her drink.

“No problem,” he grins. “What are friends for?”

The word ‘friend’ makes that warmness spread to the tips of her toes.

“What the hell is going on?” A voice cuts through the crowd.

Piper and Percy look over to identify the voice. Immediately, Percy steps forward without a shed of guilt on his face. Piper, on the other hand, lingers back. Annabeth can believe whatever the hell she wants to believe.

“Annabeth,” he begins in a calm tone, “Piper and I were just talking.”

“Sure,” Annabeth says, but her eyes are glued to Piper like a sniper.

“It’s true,” Percy adds.

Way to handle the situation, Piper thinks to herself. She finishes the rest of her drink, tossing the empty can into the fire. She then attempts to slither away without anyone noticing.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Annabeth questions. Her voice is shrill, cutting through the night and drawing the attention of everyone in the vicinity.

“Not here,” Piper barks back with a harsh chuckle.

Annabeth steps after her, forcing Piper to stop and stare at her.

“What do you want Annabeth?” She confronts.

“To leave me alone, to leave my boyfriend alone.”

Percy steps up beside her, attempting to lay a soft hand on her shoulder. Annabeth wiggles out of his reach. “Nothing was going on, Beth,” Percy repeats.

“I know,” she tells him. Then, she points her deathly gray eyes back at Piper. “I know nothing happened because of you, Percy.”

Piper snorts, rolling her eyes. She crosses her arms over her chest. “What is that supposed to mean? You think I’m ‘after’ Percy or whatever?”

“Maybe,” Annabeth shrugs. “Since you’re hellbent on ruining my life, maybe.”

“That’s a load of shit,” she frowns. “And I’m not doing this right now.”

Piper stalks off. She can vaguely hear Percy and Annabeth bickering about something, so she increases her pace. She slips through groups and around people, finding her way back into the kitchen. Her eyes stay on alert, trying to find Hazel or Leo to disappear with.

Instead, she finds herself with a new drink lost in a hallway. The walls around her are covered in pictures of the family and their achievements. If Piper wasn’t pissed, she would note that Annabeth isn’t advertised as much as the rest of the family.

Alone, Piper allows herself to catch her breath. She slumps against the wall, closing her eyes. Her mind can’t wrap itself around whatever is going on with Annabeth. Middle school was rough on the both of them, but Piper can’t fathom how Annabeth got screwed over in the situation at all. She’s the most popular girl in school, with the hottest boy in the school as her boyfriend, headed to an Ivy League no doubt, and probably going to win every award she possibly could at their age.

Piper, on the other hand, was nearly forgotten. If it weren’t for Hazel and Leo freshman year, she wouldn’t have had any friends. She’s working to get into Juilliard, but without a scholarship the chances of her actually being able to go are slim. And now, the only person who stands in her way is, of course, the person who left her alone to begin with.

Dryly, Piper chugs her newest drink and decides to look for the bathroom. She pushes herself off of the wall, and tries the first door she finds. It gives way to a middle school boy’s room, so she quickly shuts it. She pushes the next door open, discovering a double-sink counter and a bathroom. Of course they had two sinks, they were rich.

She’s about to shut the door, when something stops it. Piper turns around, finding Annabeth keeping the door open with the foot of her toe.

“Dude!” Piper exclaims. “Why are you here? Leave me the fuck alone.”

Annabeth’s eyebrows knit together angrily, “I’m tired of this.”

“Me too,” she groans, “that’s why I walked away. You should, too.”

The blonde girl shakes her head, stepping further into the bathroom. She shuts the door behind her and falls onto it, staring at Piper with exhausted and angry eyes.

“I can’t,” she snaps, “not until you apologize.”

“Me? Apologize?” Piper snorts. “That’s rich. What exactly should I apologize for? You abandoning our friendship, your outburst at school the other day, the fact that you - “

“No!” Annabeth interrupts her, lunging forward. She stops herself before reaching Piper, but her body is tense and she’s done enough to make Piper step backwards.

Annabeth collects herself again. She runs a hand through her hair the best she can, ruining the ringlets that she must’ve prepared before the football game.

“I want you to apologize,” she begins, “for being a pain in my ass since the beginning of high school.”

“We haven’t talked since middle school until this year, so no, that’s not going to happen,” Piper responds matter-of-factly.

“Fine, then apologize for this year at least,” Annabeth insists.

The anger that had been boiling just under Piper’s skin all night begins to bubble up to the surface. She sucks in a huge breath, her hands shaking against her sides. She blinks a few times, but the burning frustration isn’t going away.

“I’m not going to apologize, Annabeth,” she begins a little too calmly, “and let me tell you why.”

Annabeth’s stormy gray eyes look her up and down. For once, the anger has been replaced with one of hesitation. She licks her lips and bites down hard on her cheek.

“We were close, we were best friends,” Piper launches into her monologue with a thin tone. “I saw you everyday of my life until we were 14. We were attached at the hip. When my mom died…you cried with me.”

Piper stops for a moment, fighting back the choking sob that wants to escape from deep within. She goes most days thinking about her mom in some form, it’s impossible to forget. She hears her every time she plays piano, every time she drives past certain streets, she’s everywhere. But thinking of the days immediately after…those memories reopen the hole of grief that she’s worked so hard to pave over.

“You were important to me,” Piper continues. “And I know I was important to you. And then you…then you - “

She stops herself in her tracks. When she looks up, preparing to finish the sentence, she can see the red lining Annabeth’s eyes and the pleading look. The words hidden behind her desperate state are clear. ‘Don’t say it aloud.’

Although the anger is pulsing adrenaline through Piper’s bloodstream, she can’t bring herself to articulate the words. She couldn’t do that to Annabeth. No matter how angry she is.

“ - then you made a mistake,” she finishes, letting the words hang in there. Annabeth flinches away. Piper pushes on. “You made a mistake. And instead of…figuring it all out, you just left. You cut me out and everything changed.”

Annabeth steps forward, her lips moving in an attempt to form her response but it fails. So, Piper takes the opportunity to continue.

“It hurt, obviously. My best friend was gone, just overnight without a warning. And…I needed you. And as if that didn’t hurt enough, we started school that fall and you became fucking Regina George or whatever,” she flops.

“I am not Regina George,” Annabeth quips, speaking up for the first time.

Piper rolls her eyes, “The point is you were everywhere, doing everything with everyone but me. You met Percy and I didn’t stand a chance. And I was right next door, watching it all happen.”

Annabeth steps closer to her, “That’s not exactly - “

Stubbornly, Piper steps forward too and Annabeth doesn’t finish her sentence; she's too caught off guard. They’re only a few inches apart. Piper can feel Annabeth’s breath on hot against her skin. She struggles to avoid Annabeth’s deep eyes, it fails. She shakes her head.

“You replaced me with Percy,” Piper bites.

“I didn’t - “ Annabeth attempts to argue. Her tone is no longer filled to the brim with anger, instead it’s hollow.

“You replaced me with Percy,” Piper repeats accusingly. She adds on softly, “...in more ways than one.”

Annabeth moves quickly.

She lunges forward, her soft lips crashing into Piper’s. It’s tense, their lips are the only body parts touching, an uncomfortable amount of space lingers between them. Annabeth’s eyes are squeezed shut, while Piper can’t seem to pull her wide eyes away from what the hell was happening to her.

Butterflies rush through Piper, temporarily blinding her from the million thoughts of anger and outrage flooding into her mind. She’s numb, completely lost in the confusion of the moment. And frankly, she doesn’t hate it.

Just as quickly as it happened, it’s over. Annabeth pulls away, putting feet of distance between them. She’s pale, her eyes glued open like she has seen a ghost. Piper is frozen on her feet, unable to process what to do.

“Fuck,” is all Piper can say - breathless.

Annabeth blinks, “Fuck,” she agrees.

They’re in a standoff. Annabeth is scared shitless, but Piper is more flustered than anything else. Her cheeks are a bright pink and if she stares long enough at Annabeth, her red lipstick is lingering on Annabeth’s.

Piper finally moves, thoughtlessly placing her hands on her lips. How did they get here? What does it mean? And most of all, how the fuck did Piper let this happen again?

“Bye,” Annabeth snaps frantically. She dashes out of the room, the door swinging shut behind her.

Piper has never been one to act out of anger. She’s never really felt enough rage to get that worked up. But now? With the feeling of Annabeth’s lips still on her’s and the flurry of feelings spinning her around, she feels nothing but the burning-hot iron of fury. She turns around, kicking the trash can against the wall. It topples over, spilling its contents onto the floor.

“Fucking hell.”

Chapter Text

Everything is going to shit.

That’s all Annabeth thinks as she rushes into her room, shutting the door and locking it behind her. She runs her hand through her hair, letting the tears fall freely now that she’s in private. She should’ve come up to her room from the get go. This week’s party felt more unbearable than usual, she protested against having it but Silena insisted. Silena always insists.

This is what Annabeth gets for not listening to her gut.

No, no, listening to her instincts is what got her into this mess.

The clock on her bedside table says it’s nearly 2 in the morning already. Time flies when you want to gouge out your eye sockets, she thinks. If it were a normal night, she would’ve been up here by herself at least an hour ago if not sooner - leaving the party to itself in favor of finishing up some homework. Percy would’ve patrolled longer, making sure that nothing got too out of hand.

But when she had attempted to do so, her gut kept urging her to go back downstairs. Piper was there. Of course Piper would show up for the first time this week, just to press Annabeth’s buttons. And of course, when she had seen Piper for the first time, she was laughing it up with Percy like they were old friends. Worst of all, the firelight had given Piper a warm glow that made Annabeth’s heart race.

She bites down hard on her lip at that thought, drawing blood. Her mouth starts to fill with the distinct metallic taste of blood, soon joined by salty tears and snot. Annabeth rushes into the bathroom, flipping the shower on cold and jumping in. It isn’t until her clothes are sticking to her damp skin that she realizes she hadn’t bothered to take them off.

Alone in the shower, Annabeth lets herself cry. Her bedroom door is locked and the shower’s pounding water drowns out any sound. She feels safe from everything but her thoughts.

Everything is going to shit.

Annabeth just had to kiss Piper, effectively ruining everything. Who makes that mistake twice, five years later? She can’t go through 8th grade all over again. Losing her best friend and fighting to become better than before, that took a lot of effort. If anyone found out about what happened in that bathroom, she could forget about winning Prom Queen. Hell, she could forget about being the school’s “Regina George” (whether she’s actually mean or not). Here she is, lecturing herself over and over about how much she has changed, when in reality her 18 year-old self is making the same mistake her prepubescent self had made.

No one saw it, Annabeth is confident about that. The bathroom door had been shut, they had been alone. The only way the rest of the school would find out is if Piper herself tells someone.

Piper wouldn’t tell anyone, right?

She hadn’t told anyone five years ago when 14 year old Annabeth had made the same mistake. Granted, Annabeth had screamed and threatened her the next morning when Piper showed up like nothing had changed. Whether she didn’t tell anyone out of loyalty to a forgotten friend or because of the threats, Annabeth isn’t sure.

Maybe she had told someone. Piper has friends of her own, most likely. Does she trust any of them enough to tell them about it? Annabeth shakes her head, even if Piper did, clearly nothing had come from it. The big question is whether or not she trusts them enough now to tell them about tonight. And, if those friends go on to tell their friends…

It’s a cycle Annabeth is far too familiar with, and one she hates above everything else. She has increasingly less and less control over the narratives about her life. She’s watching her future slip right through her fingers.

She wants to scream, but even the shower won’t hide that from the rest of the party.

Annabeth stays in the shower until her fingers turn pruney and her skin is raw from the heat. Her clothes are probably ruined but she can’t work up the energy to care. She cuts the water and stands in the silence for a moment before peeling the heavy clothes off her body and tossing them aside.

She catches her naked self in the mirror, startled by how puffy her eyes still are. Her skin is red and blotchy all over from the rain spatters. Her blonde hair is sticky against her neck. Annabeth doesn’t recognize herself, she looks broken; a fragment of her normal self.

The tears come again, unleashing like a broken dam. She moves on from the mirror, changing into her comfiest pair of joggers and a hoodie. It’s too hot for hoodies, but she needs to feel the warmth around her.

Annabeth turns off the lights and slips into bed. She can hear the music pounding down stairs, but it’s all numb to her. She stares up at the dark ceiling.The wide room around her is too much. Her mind won’t stop swirling with thoughts, at the epicenter a ball of self-hate unlike any she’d ever felt before.

Her heart is still racing.

Damnit, why is her heart still racing?

“I need a game plan,” she says aloud, to no one but herself.

Annabeth pushes herself off the bed, turning on all the lights again. She flips on her speaker and plays her angriest playlist. She’s not much for music, but she needs something to drown out her thoughts.

She grabs out all her arts and crafts supplies from within her desk and spreads out a large piece of construction paper on the floor. The white of the paper reflects back at her in a challenge. She huffs, grabbing her paint pens and setting into work. Tears threaten to drop from her cheeks onto the parchment, but she wipes them away with the back of her hand.

Her hands work with a mind of her own. She doesn’t think, she just lets the ink color the page in whatever way feels right.

Which is for the best. Her mind can’t move past the night, but as time goes on it starts to wander dangerously back to the first incident. It comes to her in flashes, sweat induced and pounding in her ears.

~

Piper’s hands fleeting across the piano. Each stroke of her hand summoned another hauntingly beautiful note from the instrument. Her face is set in determination as she works her way through the song, her eyebrows furrowed together and the ever-changing kaleidoscope eyes don’t dare look away from the sheet of music in front of her.

Annabeth sitting adjacent to her, taking it all in. The music moves melodiously through her ears, making butterflies stir up in her stomach. She can’t turn away from Piper, for fear of missing the next time she mouths a note to herself or her eyebrow twitching when she successfully finishes a line.

~

“Show me,” Annabeth says, pushing Piper on the piano seat so she can reach the keys too.

The other girl doesn’t object, she makes enough space and stares at Annabeth curiously. “Show you what? Hot Cross Buns?”

“Sure,” she smirks back in a challenge.

~

Annabeth pretends to watch as Piper’s gentle fingers guide her through the song, but Piper’s body is so close and her hands are so soft. Annabeth can smell the distinct Bath and Body Works perfume that she was using at the time.

“Hot - cross - buns,” the girl sings gently as she presses down on her fingers.

Annabeth dares to shoot a look at Piper’s face. Only to find she’s looking at her, too. But she’s only 14, she doesn’t understand the dizzy feeling that fills her head or the way her hands immediately clam up.

~

Their lips are touching. Oh my god, oh my god, their lips are touching. Annabeth can’t pull herself away. Piper’s lips are so soft and warm. Her cheeks turn bright red, so are Pipers but she can’t see that. It feels like it lasts an eternity.

And then Annabeth wakes up. She leaps apart, getting to her feet and shaking her head. Her lips taste like Burts Bees from Piper’s damn chapstick. She wipes it off against the sleeve of her longsleeve.

“Annabeth - “ Piper begins to say, standing up much more slowly. Her eyes are still wide.

“No,” Annabeth shakes her head rapidly. “I have to go.”

“Wait - “

But Annabeth is already dashing out the door as fast as she can. Her heavy breaths freeze her lungs up.

~

The large piece of construction paper is a mess in front of her. Annabeth can’t read what it says through her tears and the choking sob coming from within her. The music doesn’t help. She can’t hide.

A soft knock echoes through the room.

“Annabeth?” A voice calls out. It’s a familiar voice, gentle and endearing. He speaks loud enough so she can hear him over the party music below and whatever song is playing on her speaker, but quiet enough so she knows he’s not upset.

Oh God, Percy. She hasn’t even thought about Percy yet. And that makes her feel worse.

“What?” She calls back in a raw voice.

“I’m going to leave soon,” he replies, “party’s wrapping up, I think. But I wanted to check in before I go.”

Annabeth sniffles, forcing herself to get to her feet and walk over to the door. She unlocks it, swinging it open.

Percy’s mouth is open as if he’s going to say something, but he stops himself when he sees Annabeth. Her hair is still damp and her tears are still present, he’s caught off-guard.

“Are you okay?” He asks, without a hint of judgment. “I swear, nothing happened with Piper. We were talking about - “

Annabeth rolls her eyes before he can finish, strutting back into her room. She leaves the door open as a cue for him to follow, and he does. She flops on the bed, trying to find some sort of reasoning for her behavior without giving too much away.

“What’s this?” Percy inspects her ‘art project.’ “Oh. I don’t think we can hang this up.”

She stares at the construction paper. It's supposed to read ‘Annabeth Chase 4 Prom Queen’ but at some point she had crossed it off with a red X and began just splattering whatever she wanted on it, so now it looked like a kindergarten’s mess.

“Good call,” she chuckles dryly.

Percy steps over the project, taking the spot beside Annabeth on her bed. He stares at her with knitted eyebrows and his deep, green eyes.

“What’s wrong?” He asks softly, “This can’t all be because I was laughing with Piper. It’s not like I kissed her or anything. Which I would never do, by the way.”

His words are so inadvertently comical, she has to bite her tongue not laugh. She just shakes her head.

“No,” she says, “it’s not about that.”

Percy reaches out and takes one of her hands. “Then tell me what it is about.”

Annabeth opens her mouth but all that comes out is a shutter. She sighs, flopping back against the bed. Her eyes burn but no more tears come. She rubs her eyes with the butt of her wrists.

Percy lays down beside her, his eyes never leaving her face. He frowns. “Okay, you don’t have to tell me. How can I help?”

“Just stay,” she chokes.

“Okay,” he says. He grabs the blanket at the end of the bed and pulls it up over them.

They get comfortable beneath the covers. The only part of their bodies that Annabeth allows to touch is their hands. This all feels like a betrayal to Percy, to herself. A large hole tears her from the inside out.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

“Love you,” he mumbles, already beginning to fall to sleep.

His breathing evens out. Annabeth can’t bring herself to say the words back.

Chapter Text

When Piper manages to leave the bathroom, Annabeth has already disappeared. Of course she has. It’s comical how accurately the past is repeating itself.

The night’s events are catching up to Piper. She lacks the energy needed to chase after Annabeth and hash out whatever emotions are swirling around them both. And, she doubts that the other girl would be in the right state of mind to have that conversation.

On top of that, the alcohol is going sour in her stomach. She feels queasy and her mind feels like it’s processing everything 2 seconds slower than it should. She sucks in a breath and pushes her way past a couple that’s making out against the wall near her. They hardly notice that she shoved them and quickly return their making-outness, but Piper continues to trudge past. They won’t remember this in the morning.

All she wants is to curl up in her bed and sleep in till noon.

Piper finds herself back in the kitchen. Hazel is in the middle of a conversation with Frank, both of them completely googly-eyes over one another. She hates the idea of stepping in between them, but she doesn’t want to leave without letting Hazel know.

The burgeoning couple doesn’t notice her as she approaches. Gently, Piper taps Hazel’s forearm.

“Hey,” she says softly. Her voice sounds like it’s coming from outside of her body.

Hazel beams at her, “Hey, Pipes. Where did you run off to?”

“Uh, nowhere,” Piper murmurs. “But I’m going to head home, if that’s okay. You can come over whenever you're done, or wake me up if you need a ride.”

The other girl frowns, “Oh, I’ll leave too, I promised afterall - “

“No!” Piper interrupts, her eyes finding the looming figure of Frank right next to her. He’s bouncing patiently on the balls of his feet, watching the girls converse without him. “You should stay,” she encourages.

Frank politely steps in, “I can give you a ride if you need it.”

Hazel looks between the two of them hesitantly. Finally, she shrugs. “Okay, yeah, if it’s no hassle. Let me know if you need anything, Piper.”

“You too,” Piper puts on her best reassuring smile.

She gives a polite wave and thank you to Frank before turning on her heel to leave. She passes into the living room, finding it all somehow more packed than it was when they first arrived.

She has to use her elbows to wedge her way through the crowd, ignoring the drinks that splash on her and the sneers that follow her like a plague.

When the door comes into view, a blissful flush of relief pulsates through her.

“Hey!” A voice calls out.

Dread replaces the relief that Piper was so grateful to feel. She retracts her hand from the gold handle of the door and turns around.

A drunk Jason has found her. His face is bright red and sweaty, she can smell the booze practically wafting off of him. His blonde hair is glossy with moisture and sticking up in tons of cowlicks, something that Piper knows used to bother him so much - at least when he’s sober. The light blue button-up he’s wearing now has a rip in the shoulder.

“Piper,” he breaths out, stumbling to a stop in front of him.

Nervousness crackles inside of Piper the minute her name touches his lips. She squeezes her eyes shut. “Jason, I can’t do this right now.”

He reaches out with a wobbly hand, “I’m sooo sorry, Pipes.”

His S’s slur together. Piper grabs the door handle again.

“I told you I’m done, Jason,” she snaps, “and I’m definitely not rehashing this when you can barely stand.”

With that, she marches out the door. She yanks it behind her as she walks, but before the door can slam shut, Jason’s hand is stopping it. If his hand almost getting slammed in the door hurts him, his drunkenness doesn’t realize it.

Piper pretends not to notice that Jason is following her. She starts her way towards her house, walking past a few cars and to the yard separating them. She can hear Jason tripping over his own feet and swearing under his breath as he follows.

“Piper, I messed up!” Jason declares. “I’m like, nothing without you.”

“Uh-huh, sure,” she says unremarkably.

As she crosses into her driveway, his hand catches up to her wrist and yanks her back. She lets out a yelp, intoxicated Jason doesn’t know his own strength.

“Sorry,” he immediately apologizes, dropping her wrist. He frowns. “I don’t know what’s going on. I just know - I just know that I’m sad now that you’re gone. And when I thought all about it, I don’t think I handled things right.”

Piper runs a hand through her hair and shakes her head. Her voice comes out ragged, “I’m glad you realized that, I guess, but I can’t do this here. Not tonight.”

“Then when?”

She spins in the grass, marching into her driveway. She shrugs, “I don’t know.”

“I can’t accept that,” he continues to argue. “Give me another chance.”

“I already gave you another chance, accept that,” she sighs.

“Piper - “

His sentence is cut off by the front door of the McClean household being pulled open. Tristan stands in a pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt. He’s wearing slippers on his feet, but with his arms crossed and jaw set he doesn’t look the least bit tired.

“Dad, go back inside,” Piper groans, rubbing her forehead. Everything is going to shit - again.

Tristan ignores his daughter. Instead, he focuses his attention on Jason - who has literally backtracked a few feet with a vaguely nauseous look on his face.

“Jason, I think it’s best if you head home,” he says, surprisingly calm.

The boy opens his mouth, his eyes darting between Piper and Tristan. He then sighs dejectedly, but nods.

“Yes, sir,” he murmurs.

Tristan struts out of the house, shutting the door gingerly behind him. He pulls his keys out of his pocket. “I’ll drive,” he offers with a sarcastically chipper tone.

“That’s not necessary - “

“Well, you can’t drive yourself,” Tristan remarks snippily, already leaving to grab his keys.

Jason hangs his head in shame, “Yes, sir.”

Normally this would be Piper’s worst nightmare, but frankly she’s happy that she’s not being expected to come along. Jason will hopefully back off after the undoubtedly awkward car ride and Piper can focus on the rest of the dumpster fire that is her life.

“I’ll text you,” Jason offers with a hopeful raise of his eyebrows. Piper doesn’t respond. The night air has become tense.

Tristan returns with the keys to his Jeep, and gestures for Jason to make his way to the car. The minute the doors shut, Piper walks into the house and chooses to ignore the fluster of worrying thoughts in her mind.

She traces her way numbly to her room, practically jumping when she sees the keyboard pressed against the far wall. It hasn’t moved locations since the first kiss Annabeth stole, but tonight it stares back at her in a haunting challenge. She can still see a ghost of herself, sitting on the bench in a puddle of emotions while Annabeth is already doing her best impression of the Road Runner and bolting back to her house.

No matter how Piper had felt about it, her life had gotten much simpler without Annabeth. And yet again, she finds herself being unraveled by the girl next door.

She gets into bed, folding the weighted blanket around her like a burrito, and lets herself sink into her pillow.

-*-*-*-

Piper wakes up in the morning with her eyes crusted shut. She rubs at them hard with the back of her wrist until they manage to open on their own. The sun is brightening up her room and she can literally hear the birds singing outside, but as the memories come flooding back into her brain she can’t bring herself to appreciate the beautiful Saturday morning. All she can do for right now, though, is think about how thirsty she is and how badly she smells.

She pushes the blankets off her and slips out of the bed. Immediately, a dizzying migraine overcomes her. She can’t tell if the pain is from the alcohol her body isn’t used to drinking or from the colossal stress fracture that her emotions have become.

Piper takes a moment to steady herself, then cautiously gets back to her feet. She sucks in a breath, which dulls the headache long enough for her to open her eyes slowly. Once they are successfully open, she begins the search for her phone. She has to talk to Hazel.

She turns to her nightstand, only to find a suspicious lump under the covers on the other side of her bed. Piper frowns, grabbing the hem of her blanket and ripping it back.

“What the fuck?” She yells as she leaps backwards, her heart hammering in her ribcage. A fresh spike of pain shoots through her head.

A groggy, bushy-haired Hazel rolls onto her back, peering up at Piper through tired eyes. A faint smile plays at the girl's lips.

“Good morning,” she says in a surprisingly sweet one. “How did you sleep?”

Piper closes her eyes again, sitting back down on the bed. The migraine is getting worse.

“What are you doing here?” Piper questions, her eyes still shut. “I thought Frank was giving you a ride home. He didn’t do anything, did he?”

She can feel Hazel sit up in the bed. “No, not at all!” She objects. “We stayed a little longer but I was worried about you, so I told Frank I was going to stay here for the night. He walked me to your door and everything. You were already asleep so…I just made myself at home.”

“Oh, good,” Piper falls back on the bed, laying beside her friend. She’s a bit concerned that she didn’t notice a fully grown human entering her room and sleeping beside her in the middle of the night, but mostly she’s grateful for her friend.

Slowly, she cracks an eye open, “Wait, how did you get in the house?”

“You left the front door unlocked, dumbass,” Hazel teases.

“That would be my dad,” Piper chuckles. “He gave Jason a ride home.”

Hazel laughs knowingly, “You didn’t hear?”

“No, I was sleeping,” she mutters.

“He stopped at Annabeth’s when they drove by,” her friend explains. “He got out of the car with a megaphone and announced that if the party wasn’t gone before he got back, he was calling the police.”

Piper winces, “A megaphone?”

“A megaphone,” Hazel confirms. “You should’ve seen everyone scatter. I didn’t realize he cared, this has been going on for years, after all.”

All Piper can do is shrug. He may be her favorite person, but Tristan McClean was still a mystery to her.

“I want to know where he got the megaphone,” Hazel continues, “and why he keeps it in his car.”

Piper doesn’t respond. She succumbs to her headache, pulling the blankets up around her again.

“I’ll get you some ibuprofen,” Hazel says quietly.

She returns a few moments later, coaxing Piper to open her eyes. With a hushed thank you, Piper accepts the cold glass of water and the medicine, gulping both down quickly. The water does miracles for her hoarse throat.

Hazel sits back down beside her, a look of concern now pressed onto her face. She blinks a few times, “Is there a reason you rushed home last night?”

“Yeah,” Piper nods.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Piper swallows some more water, sending up a silent prayer that the medicine would kick in soon. Her mind begins to replay last night, again, as if she hadn’t had it on repeat while trying to fall asleep. She felt like a detective, replaying the event over and over again in hopes of finding some new clue that would make everything click. It never clicks. Instead, she tortures herself trying to imagine what Annabeth was thinking before, during, and after.

She isn’t even sure she wants to tell Hazel everything.

No one knows about the first kiss, Annabeth made it very clear that there would be repercussions for Piper if she told a single soul. At the time Piper doubted that if she told one person, someone trustworthy like Hazel, that Annabeth would’ve figured it out but still, she never told anyone. Perhaps it was easier for herself to pretend it never happened or perhaps on a much deeper level, Piper still felt some sick sense of loyalty to her best friend.

And now, all the events have repeated themselves, only Annabeth has yet to return to threaten Piper. She could tell Hazel everything entirely guilt-free, she no longer feels loyalty to the future Prom Queen and in fact, would love to tell someone about it all. The truth had been a weight on her subconscious for a long time, revealing it would be a refreshing change. Her and Hazel could pick apart each little detail, swear up and down that Annabeth is batshit crazy, and then go grab a greasy breakfast at the diner.

It wouldn’t be that big of a surprise for Hazel. Sure, the Annabeth part of it would mean a complete shift of her world view, but Hazel knew Piper was bi - that was nothing new. Miss Trinity, Leo, and Hazel were the only three people on the planet who knew. If anyone could help her with this, without fear of judgment or the extra-step of coming out, it was her new best friend.

But as Piper opens her mouth to say it - to just blurt out ‘Annabeth Chase kissed me’ - her throat constricts.

She sits up in bed, worried that she’s going to vomit from the hangover or stress. Hazel leans closer to her, laying a comforting hand on her back.

Piper can’t say anything. She wants to, she wants to gossip about it so badly and wonder what the hell it all means with someone other than her overactive brain, but she can’t. Annabeth is in the closet. Apparently, Annabeth is still really deep in the closet. And Piper knows that Hazel wouldn’t tell a soul, especially if Piper asked her to, but she can’t do that to Annabeth.

Goddamnit.

Telling Hazel breaks an unspoken rule; a rule that Piper would hope Annabeth would oblige by if the roles were reversed.

It’s not loyalty. Piper doesn’t have that for Annabeth anymore. But she does have empathy, she knows what it’s like to bear that part of her soul to someone. It’s horrifying, nerve-wracking, and the scariest thing Piper has done, but the sweet relief of unburdening yourself for the first time is something special.

The first person Piper told was Miss Trinity, in the middle of a flute lesson. She told her at the beginning of their session one day and Miss T didn’t give two shits, but it wasn’t any less scary. It's the same reason she still hasn’t told her father, because he won’t care and it’s scary but she doesn’t want things to change between them. She can’t take that risk. He’s all she has left.

And if Piper has that fear, with the most supportive father and amazing friends, she can’t imagine what Annabeth feels. Mr. Chase can be uniquely cruel and manipulative, Sheila is practically a stranger, and as far as Piper is aware, Annabeth hasn’t spoken to her mom in years. She’s alone.

Piper swallows and shakes her head.

“No, not yet,” she responds finally.

Hazel’s eyebrows knit together, as if wondering whether or not she should push Piper for the truth. Instead, she nods in a small act of understanding.

Piper gives her friend a grateful smile. She then cozies up to her, pulling her into a snuggle. They lean back onto the bed, resting their heads on each other.

“So,” Piper teases with a playful poke to the stomach, “tell me all about Frank.”

And although Piper can’t see Hazel’s face, she knows her best friend is blushing wildly.

Chapter Text

On Saturday, Annabeth woke up to Percy still snuggled beside her. It was suffocating. Somehow in the eight hours that had passed, his touch had lost all comfort and instead filled her with guilt.

She yelled at him, almost immediately. His brief look of confusion as he leapt out from under the covers immediately turned into one of concern, he wordlessly put on his shoes and trudged out of her house. Annabeth watched him go, desperately wanting to change her mind but it didn't.

For the rest of the day, she didn’t do anything. She didn’t leave her room. All she could do was lay in bed with her mind whirring, tugging on her fingers and chewing her lips - just about every anxious habit that could think of. None of it helped. She did her homework and got ahead on the next few days of work, but it goes by in a blur without so much of a thought.

Most shockingly, she didn’t touch the mess that her classmates left downstairs. The idea of stepping past the bathroom door made her ill.

Sunday was when the rest of her family returned home, though she couldn’t think of where they were that particular weekend. She woke up groggy in bed to a pounding at her door. When she made a single sound, the door busted open to reveal Frederick Chase - bright red in the face and already yelling about the catastrophe. Annabeth mumbles an apology before pulling the covers back over her head. He continued to shout.

Annabeth was late to school for the first time in her life on Monday. Percy brought her a coffee and she hugged him, apologizing half-heartedly for her behavior that weekend. She shrugs off his questions because the more she thinks about opening up to him, the more she wants to run and hide. The interaction leaves a sour taste in her mouth.

Tuesday and Wednesday, she’s on autopilot. She goes to school, talks to Percy and Silena and everyone else who expected her to be cheery and personable, she finishes the day at cheer practice, before locking herself in her room with her thoughts and tears.

On Thursday, things change.

“Excuse me, Annabeth,” a voice pulls her out of the essay she’s writing during her study period.

She looks up to find Mr. Blofis standing beside her. He’s carrying the familiar metal tin that she had used for the bake sale. A soft smile is on his face.

“Oh, hey,” she greets softly.

“Are you able to do me a favor?” He questions.

Annabeth glances back down at her work, briefly thinking over his question. She shrugs. “Sure, what is it?”

“This is the money you guys had me save from the bake bake sale,” he says, “plus some donations from teachers and people at Sally’s work. Can you run it down to Coach Hedge? He’s in charge of the Senior Class savings.”

Annabeth raises her eyebrows, “Oh wow, that’s kind of you guys. Sure, I can do that.”

“Great,” he smiles, setting the tin down. On top is a familiar yellow hall pass with her name scribbled hastily on it. “Go ahead whenever you’d like.”

She takes the tin and the pass, quietly leaving the study hall.

Coach Hedge’s office is delightfully the same. Only this time, Annabeth can hear him yelling at something from down the hall. As she gets closer, she realizes he’s watching some old martial arts DVDs and the sound radiates out from behind his door.

Surprisingly, he beckons her in when she knocks on the door.

As Annabeth enters his office, she’s hit with the distinct smell of hot cheese. The Coach is sitting at his desk, holding down a hot panini press as a light amount of smoke fills the air. He barely glances up at her, instead splitting his attention between the panini press and the crackly screen showing off the current DVD.

“Oh,” Coach Hedge grunts, “what do you need?”

“Uh, sorry to drop by,” Annabeth says. She gestures to the scene in front of her, “You’re busy.”

He frowns but pops the press open to reveal a steaming sandwich, “Jest all you want, but I’m having a perfectly toasted panini for lunch. It’s all about finding the little joys in life, Chase.”

“Thanks for the advice,” she murmurs dryly.

“Uh-huh, I’m sure you’ll take it to heart,” he shoots back at her. “What do you need?”

Annabeth sets the tin container on the desk beside the panini press. Hedge nods at it appreciatively.

“Mr. Blofis asked me to bring this to you,” she explains. “It’s the money we raised from the bake sale, plus some donations.”

“Good,” Hedge takes the box and places it somewhere behind the desk for him later.

On the TV, a statick-y synth pop beat fills the room. Annabeth gets her first good look at the old screen.

“Are you watching The Karate Kid?” She questions.

Hedge levels a serious stare at her. “The little joys, Chase.”

“Okay,” Annabeth shrugs in response.

A pause settles between them awkwardly. Annabeth shifts on her toes awkwardly, a nagging feeling keeping her stuck in pace. Coach Hedge is focused on removing the panini from the press as neatly as possible. He lets out a grunt of pain as his finger touches the hot crust and sucks on his finger to cool it down. When he glances back up, his eyebrows press together when he finds Annabeth still there.

“Go,” he orders.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” she clears her throat, and turns to leave the room. As she’s about to cross through the doorway, she stops. A pulling feeling in her gut pushes her to a halt.

She spins back around, wringing her hands together nervously. “Can I ask you something, Coach?”

“Sure,” he allows, “it’s what I was hired for, apparently.”

Annabeth steps back into the room. This time she shyly takes the seat in front of his desk, clearing her throat.

“It’s about Piper McLean,” she announces.

Coach rolls his eyes, “Why am I not surprised? What seems to be the issue?”

Annabeth chews on her lip, “Is there something else she can do to boost her Juilliard application?”

“I thought I made it clear when I paired you two up,” he begins, “that this is the only option.”

“Are you sure?” She pushes. “I don’t want to overstep or insinuate anything, but it’s still the beginning of the school year. Tons of activities don’t start till the spring or winter.”

He blinks, “I know, Chase. And if Piper was smart, she should do additional activities in each of those seasons, too. But, this committee runs all the way to the spring and works better with her practice schedule. Not that any of that is your business, of course.”

The hope and worry in Annabeth’s chest floats away. She deflates.

Coach Hedge leans back in his chair, taking the first bite of his sandwich. He chews his food, looking inquisitively back at her.

“Is there some sort of problem?” He wonders.

She runs her hands over the fabric of her pants. “Oh, uh, no. I mean, yes. Er, I don’t know. Um, she’s a distraction.”

“A distraction?”

“Yes, a distraction,” she feels her face flushing with embarrassment. “Just, in like, the normal way. We don’t see eye to eye and you know, the focus shifts from fundraising to…fighting and drama and blah blah. All the…typical high school stuff.”

Annabeth winces at her rambling, whiny tone. If the Coach notices, he doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he swallows his food and temporarily plops the plate back down on his desk. He dusts off his hands.

“Listen, Chase,” he starts. “I’m not exactly an expert on the ‘typical high school’ stuff, but believe it or not I am a qualified counselor. And even if it wasn’t, I have eyes. I know what’s going on here.”

A weight drops in Annabeth’s stomach. All the color rushing to her cheeks only moments ago drains just as quickly, leaving her a ghostly pale. She swallows, clenching her jaw. Panic sets into her, and despite it all, a flash of the ill-fated bathroom kiss makes her nerves sizzle.

“Y-you do?”

Coach Hedge nods confidently, “I do.”

“Oh…” she looks down at her hands in her lap.

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” he reassures her.

Annabeth raises an eyebrow, “I guess, but - “

Coach raises a hand. She stops talking promptly as he continues. “Chase, you don’t have to explain yourself. I get it. In fact, I have a lot of experience with this.”

Her momentary panic morphs into confusion. “You…you do?”

“Yeah,” he laughs. “Yeah, I do. We all have people we don’t get along with. People who…push our buttons, no matter how hard we try to be the bigger man. These people are our mortal enemies and while you may think it’s best to give them the ol’ throat chop or German Suplex, that isn’t always an option - like right now.”

“Oh,” Annabeth fails to cover up her shocked expression and rush of relief.

“I don’t know what it is about Piper that gets you all worked up - ” Coach Hedge continues.

Annabeth chokes. Thankfully, the Coach doesn't notice. Her mind, unfortunately, isn’t on her side and the floating, queasy feeling she had in that bathroom returns.

“ - but you’re going to have to figure it out,” he finishes. “For the time being, at least. Take a look at my man Danny LaRusso, even he had a temporary truce with Johnny Lawrence.”

“You’re right, Coach,” she nods, desperate to get out of this conversation. “I should…listen to the Karate Kid.”

Coach Hedge scoffs, “Listen to me, Chase. Not the Karate Kid. I’m the one who told you about it.”

“Yes, you’re right, my bad,” she abruptly gets to her feet. “I think I should go now.”

“I’m always here if you need me,” he smiles. “And if you would like to tell Principal Brunner about this exchange and how much I helped, that’d be great.”

Annabeth fakes a smile and a nod, “Will do. Er, thanks.”

She returns to her study hall feeling worse than she did before. As she sits down at her desk, she finds her phone in her backpack. A few notifications light up on her phone, some from Silena and a couple emails, but Percy’s stands out.

Let me know if you need anything :)

Sucking in her breath, Annabeth pushes her phone aside. Of course she has to have the most considerate boyfriend in the world. And of course, her mind can still only think of Piper. She focuses back on her essay, sloppily writing one of the worst conclusions she’s written in her life.

Chapter Text

Piper’s life without Jason is shockingly easy.

Saturday afternoon after his drunken spectacle, Jason had sent a measly text apologizing for his behavior and promising that he’d backoff for a while. It sent a strange twist of solace and grief like the current rippling through a pond.

But most of all, it frustrates her to no end. Days later and his stupid, vague text is taking up space in her mind. Her mind wanders over what led to it - her consistent denial or was it what Tristan said to him on the car ride home.

She can’t remember what the text said.

As much as she wonders, she doesn’t linger on his actual words. She’s confused as to why his absence, after so long together, doesn’t affect her. Her heart doesn’t feel broken, she doesn’t question her next move, she isn’t up at night wondering if he’s thinking about her and if he regrets how broken things have become.

No, she doesn’t have any of that.

Instead, her thoughts are riddled with worries and concerns about Annabeth - or more accurately - how they left things.

A few weeks go by and Piper doesn’t hear a single thing from her neighbor. Part of her is just as relieved as she was when she received Jason’s text. The other half, the more persistent half, is wondering why. Why is this kiss any different? There hasn’t been a single text, a quick nod in the hallway, or the threat that she had received last time. Was it all so insignificant? Had Piper done something wrong? Was it bad? Why hasn’t she seen or heard from Annabeth since then?

What exactly does Annabeth regret?

And why does Piper care so goddamn much? It’s not like she feels one way or another about the situation. Sure, she wished it didn’t keep happening and that Annabeth would own up to it. Oh, and she’s still extremely upset about middle school, about being discarded and forgotten like an old pair of shoes that have grown too small. Piper was more than an old pair of shoes.

The kiss itself, though, she wasn’t upset about. If anything, that part of the mess was a minor detail. She doesn’t think about it, not when she’s trying to fall asleep or whenever she walks into a bathroom, or the few times she catches a sight of Annabeth’s golden head of hair in the hallway. No, she doesn’t think about the kiss at all.

She frequently feels a yearning to help Annabeth. To sit her old friend down and explain that, despite Piper’s current anger towards the way she’s been treated in the past, there was nothing wrong with the kiss. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to kiss a girl. Piper knows Annabeth needs to hear that from someone and considering that she’s the only one who has been subjected to Annabeth’s heat of the moment lesbian kisses, she has to be the one to say something.

But the idea of walking up to Annabeth to demand some answers and in the same swoop, casually tackle internalized homophobia…that seemed far and beyond what Annabeth would be willing to discuss with Piper.

“Therapy,” Piper mutters, “she needs therapy.”

“Huh?” Hazel questions, peek out from behind her book curiously.

Leo looks up from his work, too. He’s currently fiddling with a few nuts and bolts with earbuds in, but stops when he hears their voices. The trio are sitting in the middle of the Goode High library, quietly working on their separate homework piles during their free period.

Piper blushes, pushing a strand of her hair behind her ear and shaking her head. “Oh, nothing. Just…talking to myself.”

“Did you say ‘therapy?’” He wonders, “That’s what I thought I heard. If you’re talking to yourself, you might need it.”

“You talk to inanimate objects,” Piper snaps. “Anytime you’re fixing or fiddling with things. Especially your car.”

Leo glares at her, “Deborah is more than a car, she’s the best friend a guy could ask for.”

“My point exactly,” she bites back in a bit too sour of a tne.

He puts his hands up in defense, “Damn, Beauty Queen. What’s got you in such a bad mood?”

Piper closes the textbook she had been laboring through and shakes her head with a sigh. She can feel her friends’ attitudes shift with sympathy. She mutters dejectedly. “I just don’t know what to do, that’s all.”

“About Annabeth?” Hazel questions with a helpful lurch in her voice.

“What?” Piper sits up straight in her chair, shaking her head suspiciously fast. “What Annabeth thing? Why would you think that?”

She tries not to notice the conspicuous and knowing look Leo and Hazel share with one another. They begin to push away their own homework, turning their attention to Piper.

Hazel shrugs, cautiously. “I haven’t heard much about the Prom Committee lately. Shouldn’t you guys be doing more fundraising or planning?”

“Yeah,” Leo agrees. “If you have even one interaction with her, you can’t shut up about how annoying she is. And since you guys are being forced to spend time together, I thought we’d hear so much more.”

Piper frowns.

Hazel quickly adds, “We’re not complaining! If you need to vent, we’re here. Just, you know, the lack of venting is just as concerning.”

Leo smirks, “I enjoy when you complain, especially about Annabeth. You become incredibly bitchy and a little cruel, which amuses me. Free entertainment.”

“Thanks, Leo,” Piper drawls.

“Just being honest,” he winks at her shamelessly.

Piper examines her friends’ expressions, weighing over their words. Her gut is telling her to rant, but she’s worried of going too far. She’s not sure she can afford slipping up or revealing too much too quickly.

“I haven’t heard from her,” Piper announces, a little too dramatically.

“WHAT?” Leo feigns shock, “The girl you hate hasn’t reached out? No way.”

“Okay,” she rolls her eyes, “that’s an unnecessary energy.”

Hazel shakes her head in agreement, “We’re in a library.”

“Sorry,” he grumbles. “Why is not hearing from Annabeth a bad thing?”

Piper blinks, “Because how the fuck am I supposed to raise money for Prom and plan it and shit, and then get into Juilliard, if she’s not communicating with me?”

Hazel makes an understanding sound and nods. Leo is completely unaffected.

“I don’t see the problem,” he insists. “Correct me if I’m wrong - “

“We will,” the girls say in unison.

He ignores them. “- but Juilliard isn’t going to call to see how much money you raised. You can literally write ‘prom committee’ and how long you were in it on the resume, and they’ll never know if you did it or not. Bullshit it, Beauty Queen.”

“He has a point,” Hazel chews on her lip nervously.
“Also,” Leo raises his eyebrows, “if Annabeth doesn’t want your help on this, fuck her. That’s her loss. She’s only creating more work for herself.”

Piper hears him out. He doesn’t know the whole picture, sure, but he’s still making good points. Juilliard isn’t going to care how successful the Prom is, they aren’t going to ask for itemized reviews of the punch or the band’s setlist.

But Coach Hedge would know the work that was put in, and that’s infuriating enough.

And she doesn’t want Annabeth to get away. She doesn’t want her to get off scot-free. She’s not mad, she doesn’t want revenge, but she does want her to own up to the consequences of her actions. Each kiss threw a wrench in her life each time, she doesn’t get to disappear again. Especially when so much of Piper’s life is hanging in the balance - more so than last time.

How does she explain that all to her sweet friends who are so blissfully in the dark?

Hazel clears her throat, clearly seeing the conflict on Piper’s face.

“Why don’t you go to see Hedge?” She suggests. “Maybe he can talk to her, or find a different activity that’s less stressful for you to do.”

Leo lets out a maniacal laugh, “Snitch on her!”

“I don’t know…” she says half-heartedly. It would certainly get Annabeth’s attention if she got booted off the project, if she even noticed…

“Ultimately it’s up to you,” Hazel advises, “but I think it’s worth trying.”

“Throw her under the bus!” Leo exclaims.

Piper scratches the back of her neck. She doesn’t want to throw Annabeth under the bus, but Hazel’s plan seemed to be the best course of action. Either she gets moved off the project and finds a new way to get into Juilliard’s good graces, or she gets moved off the project and Annabeth confronts her, or she gets told no and she can be mad at Annabeth again, this time conscience free.

“Okay,” she gives in. “I guess, yeah. I’ll go talk to Hedge right now.”

“Yeah, go do it!” Leo claps, earning some glares from fellow library guests.

Leo’s encouragement does a lot for Piper and with a new energy, she gets to her feet and collects her things back up into her bag. Hazel watches with a supportive gleam in her eyes.

“While you’re gone,” Leo begins, “Hazel can regale me about her new paramour, Mr. Frank Zhang.”

Hazel shoots Piper a pleading look, “Please be quick.”

“Just tease him about Calypso,” Piper suggests, “he’ll get embarrassed and stop.”

Leo blinks, “Why must you guys always team up on me? I just gave great advice and this is how you repay me?”

Piper throws her backpack over her shoulder and scatters before she could hear Hazel’s defense, or deflection, to Leo.

-*-*-*-

Coach Hedge isn’t in his office, immediately sending Piper into a spiral about her intentions. The only time she’d been in Hedge’s office was when he summoned her to set up the Prom Committee plan, but somehow in her mind he was always lingering behind his desk and yelling at something or other. Alas, the door is open and his desk sits uninhabited. She’s tempted to poke around and wait for his arrival, but she hastily leaves. The idea of being caught by him while she’s alone and creeping on his interesting decorations made a shiver run up her spine.

She opts to check the pool next. It’s not far from the Coach’s office and the school day is almost over, chances are he’s setting up for swim practice or something.

When Piper steps into the pool area, the damp air, she’s brought back to the pep band nights stuck in the bleachers with condensating metal pressed against her lips. She desperately wants to leave.

A handful of boys are in the pool, doing some sort of training exercise or working by themselves in a swimming lane. Music pulsates through the wall speakers, some sort of generic EDM that makes Piper’s ears hurt. Coach Hedge is standing on a large painted box, a whistle hanging unused in his mouth and his beady eyes staring into the pool analytically. She sighs, carefully walking on the slick tile to stand besides the coach.

Hedge barely glances down at her when she stops and stares up at him expectantly. She waves her hand awkwardly, “Hey, Coach,” she says, loudly.

“I’m busy, McLean,” he grunts.

“Can I talk to you quickly?” She asks.

“Sure, schedule an appointment in the main office,” he deflects. Before Piper can open her mouth, he’s shouting across the pool. “My grandma can kick faster than you, Montes!”
Piper remains staring up at the short man, which feels odd considering he is half her height without the box.

“This is important,” she insists, “and technically it’s still the school day, so I’m not interrupting your practice.”

“Technically,” he emphasizes, “students are welcome to use their free period however they want as long as they have permission or supervision from a staff advisor.”

She frowns, “It’s not going to take long, Coach. I just want to talk to you about - “

He cuts her off, “Annabeth Chase?”

She falters, “Er, yeah.”

Coach Hedge sighs and steps off his box. He crosses his arms over his chest, “Look, I already told Annabeth that you aren’t leaving the committee. It’s up to you two to make it work. You’re more than welcome to do additional activities, but you’re helping her with all the Prom stuff.”

Piper begins to explain Annabeth’s lack of communication when his words finally sink in. She raises an eyebrow, a thin layer of anger beginning to boil within her. “She came to talk to you already?” She inquires again.

“Yes,” Coach confirms, understanding dawning on him. “I probably shouldn’t have told you that. Either way, life is about working with people you hate sometimes. That’s what I told her.”

“What exactly did she say?” Piper continues to pepper him with questions. Her tone is taking on a sharper tone. “She tried to get me fired, didn’t she? That bitch!”

Coach Hedge’s eyes go wide, “Okay, calm down. First of all, you can’t be fired, this isn’t a paying job. I want to make that clear.”

But Piper isn’t listening, she’s throwing her hands up angrily. “I can’t believe this whole time I’ve been - oh my god, I got played. She got me to sympathize and now, oh god damnit, she better be in Canada or some shit by now because when I see her - “

“She didn’t mention any international travel plans,” he remarks dryly. “McLean, I’m going to be frank. I should’ve said this in the beginning - you guys don’t have to get along. I don’t give two shits if you get along.”

His crassness causes Piper to stop. She stares at the man in front of her.

Coach Hedge shrugs, “You two can be best friends, or hate each other, hell you could be madly in love. I don’t care. The school doesn’t care. Juilliard does not care.”
His words cause Piper to avert her gaze, hoping he doesn’t spy the wave of pink that rushes onto her face.

“All I care about is that Prom goes off without a hitch so I don’t get in trouble,” he continues. He gestures to the boys in the pool. “I’m trying to get Percy Jackson to the Olympics. That’s my focus right now. I don’t need to be worrying about if ‘Starry Night’ is a good Prom theme. Okay?”

Her anger doesn’t dissipate. It’s burning hot in her chest, pushing down on all the other thoughts and emotions she had for the past few weeks. But, with Coach Hegde’s stern words washing over her, she swallows all the things she wants to shout.

“Okay,” she says in a flat tone. “I understand.”

“Great, I’m going to get back to my swimmers now,” he nods.

Piper turns on her heel, feeling strangely defeated. It only adds to her anger. She traces her way around the pool, watching her feet as she walks. She’s about to leave when a sopping wet Percy Jackson shoots out from the pool, pulling himself onto the concrete.

“Piper!” He waves her down. His body is dripping with the chlorinated water and he’s shirtless, but his face is riddled with concern. Despite her gut instincts, Piper stops.

“What?” She questions.

Percy scratches the back of his neck. His hair is hidden under his swim cap, which feels wrong. He’s not meant to be bald. Without his normal layers of clothes, Piper sees for the first time that he’s actually pretty ripped for a high school boy. His shoulders are even broader than she assumed. She thinks back to the last time she watched him swim in a meet, it’s no wonder he was so successful.

“Uh,” he searches for the right words. “I haven’t really, um, spoken consistently with Annabeth recently. Has she spoken to you at all?”

Her moment of clarity drops, her anger once again flaring up. “Go to Hell, Percy,” she bites. She leaves without another word. If he tries to stop her, she doesn’t notice or hear.

The school day will be ending in only a few minutes. Piper storms through the hallways to find her locker and leave. She has to get to the music store and zone out on the piano or flute. She can’t handle the unbridled anger, she feels like a powder keg waiting to blow and bring everything crumbling down around her.

She grabs her last few items from her locker, stuffing them in her bag. The bell rings as she does so, the empty halls flooding with eager and chatting students. No one notices Piper, her face scrunched in disgust and muttering under her breath.
Piper closes her locker. She’s about to leave the building when a couple of girls push past her. Duffle bags with pompoms and the school logo plastered on the side catch her attention.

An idea enters her mind. A crazy, reckless idea that she no longer has the willpower to fight. She has to speak to Annabeth. Her toes tingle at the idea of chasing her down and giving her a piece of her mind. Piper’s been understanding, a little too understanding - she’s sick of it. And she knows exactly where Annabeth will be right now.

Instead of leaving, Piper follows the cheerleaders.

Chapter Text

Most days, Annabeth enjoyed cheerleading and all the time it took up. It was a nice change of pace from her series of homework, various applications, and busy schedule packed with other extracurriculars.

Goode didn’t have a competitive cheer team. They learned quick and easy cheers, some relatively simple routines to perform at half-time, and it all was a surprisingly fun distraction for Annabeth. Occasionally the girls got catty, but overall they were nice and made her laugh. She only joined freshman year to boost her college applications, but she’s glad she did. It’s become a welcome getaway in comparison to the rest of her life.

So after weeks that she spent mostly alone and avoiding everyone in her life, she looked forward to the practices more than ever before.

“Charlie says we can visit him in Boston for a weekend if we give him a heads up,” Silena muses to Annabeth and a couple of their teammates while they stretch.

Lacy smirks, “City clubs? That sounds fun. You’re lucky.”

“I know right! He lives with a bunch of other engineering majors in a house off campus, they throw some parties too,” she continues. “Are you going to come, Annabeth?”

Annabeth pretends to be amused by the conversation. It’s not that she doesn’t like Silena or Beckendorf, but she doesn’t like partying. She had hoped that her friend would’ve caught on through the years, and maybe she had, but she still has to fend off many of the invitations she extends Annabeth’s way.

However, she could tell Silena genuinely liked Beckendorf and if she could play a part in their romance, she wanted to.

“Sure,” she responds, half-heartedly.

“You should bring Percy,” Silena suggests. “We can do a double-date thing. If Charlie wants too…”

“He wants to, too,” Lacy chips in reassuringly.

Silena chews on her lip, “I know…I think. I haven’t had this issue before, guys normally ask me out straight away.”

“He’s shy,” Annabeth advises, “we all know that. You should make the first move.”

The girl cocks her head, as if thinking about things in a new light. She nods, “I probably will.”

Annabeth gives Silena a supportive smile, and returns to her butterfly stretches. Most of the girls have arrived, prepared for the practice ahead in sneakers and workout clothes. Once they are all stretched and warmed up, Annabeth gets to her feet and claps her hands to get their attention. Being a senior and cheer captain, she runs most of the practices. They have a coach who oversees all the logistics and comes up with their routines or cheers, but most of those are handed down from previous years or classics. As a result, the coach only showed up for a couple practices and the football games.

“Alright guys,” she greets. “I think we’ll keep things simple today. I’m going to have Lacy and Julia lead practice with JV today, and the rest of us will begin rehearsing the half-time number.”

The girls nod in understanding and begin to arrange themselves accordingly. Lacy says something in passing to Silena as a goodbye before branching out with a group of younger girls. The rest of the squad arrange themselves in front of Annabeth in the starting positions for their routine, single-file in two lines. She cues up the appropriate song off of the bluetooth speaker they use for practices.

“Okay, let’s run it through its entirety and then we can decide what parts we want to practice more,” she calls out.

The music kicks in. With the first beat, the cheerleaders kick off their routine. Annabeth watches, tapping her fingers against her thigh to the same beat. Her eyes scan the lines in front of her like a drill sergeant.

In the middle of it all, Silena stops herself. Her eyes are fixated behind Annabeth, and she shakes her head.

“Annabeth - “

Confused, Annabeth frowns. She’s about to turn around to follow Silena’s gaze, but a chilling voice tells her what Silena sees before she does.

“Annabeth!” Piper’s voice cries out in a guttural scream.

Piper is racing towards her from the entrance of the field. Her hair is in loose tendrils, further emphasizing her stormy attitude. The tattered messenger bag that acted as her backpack is flopping in the breeze around her. Annabeth swallows, realizing that Piper has grown to be taller than her - only by a few inches, but enough to make a difference. And her fingers were always adorned with rings, silver or steel and usually with some sort of gem. Those would hurt.

“Uh,” Annabeth takes a few steps backwards as her mind tries to analyze her options.

There weren’t many. Piper was coming in fast, surprisingly fast for someone wearing thick Doc Martens. Annabeth isn’t sure why the other girl is angry. Okay, she has a bit of an idea with the whole secret kiss thing but that was weeks ago. Why now? She suspected there may be some sort of fall back immediately after The Incident (as she had started to call it) but was relieved when nothing happened. What difference does it make now?

Annabeth’s mind only manages to come up with three possible solutions. She can attempt to broker peace with Piper, but judging by the way she pushed past the JV cheerleaders and permanent snarl on her lips, that odds of success are slim. They were also in front of a squad of nosy girls who Annabeth didn’t particularly want to hear all her dirty laundry.

She could run. She could leave her cheer bag behind, take off and just keep running. She could pull a complete Forrest Gump and only stop when she felt like it; miles and miles away, completely unharmed. However, Piper could always chase her and running seems equally as embarrassing as the last option - getting her ass kicked. At least if Piper wanted a fight, Annabeth could hold her own. She took karate briefly as a kid and last winter had sanctioned multiple self-defense classes to be taught during free periods for any interested students, many of which she attended.

“You absolute fucking cunt!” Piper shouts again, this time much closer to Annabeth.

Sucking in a breath, Annabeth holds her ground and puts on a placid expression. “Hold on, let’s try and talk about this.”

The angry girl comes to a stop a foot or so away. Her face is beat red and her eyes are bloodshot. That trips Annabeth up, is Piper crying? Her fists are balled up at her sides and she leans forward, practically spitting.

“I can’t believe you!” She cries, “I knew you were a two-faced bitch, but I didn’t think you’d stoop this low. This is my future we’re talking about, Annabeth. It’s not some fucking game!”

Annabeth bites down on her lip. If she isn’t angry about the kiss, then Annabeth has no clue what the hell is wrong.

“What do you mean?” She questions.

“Oh, like you don’t have any clue?” Piper snaps. She gestures to the group of cheerleaders surrounding them, now huddled together and whispering. “Go ahead and play innocent in front of your adoring fans, we all know their opinion is the only one that matters to you.”

A similar amount of anger is starting to build within Annabeth. She pushes it down, clenching her jaw and electing to speak in the most level voice she can muster.

“Piper,” she squeaks, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I promise. Whatever it is, I’m sure there’s an explanation for it. Calm down.”

A crack cuts through the air and suddenly, Annabeth’s cheek is burning. Her eyes well up. She touches a hand to the hot flesh and frowns. At the same time, Piper yells, “Don’t tell me to calm down!”

“Did you just fucking slap me?” Annabeth hisses indignantly.

“You told Coach to take me off the fucking committee,” Piper pushes her this time. Annabeth takes it, stumbling backwards but catching herself before she can fall over.

Her mind is still struggling to make sense of it all. “What? No, I didn’t say that! I asked him if there’s a different activity you could do - “

Before Annabeth can finish her sentence, Piper is tackling her to the ground with the force of her whole body weight. They hit the ground in a tumble with Piper forcing her down, this time Annabeth doesn't hold back. She grabs a fistful of Piper’s hair and yanks her against the ground, too. The girl lets out a wail and retaliates by using her nails against Annabeth’s arm. It’s all a jumble of limbs and yelling, Piper screaming out words like “liar” and “selfish bitch” all of which Annabeth has comebacks for.

The cheer team, plus some other members of miscellaneous practicing teams, have now formed a protective wall around them. Shouts and cheers of encouragement fill Annabeth with more adrenaline as she flips Piper below her. There’s already a cut forming on Piper’s chin from where Annabeth managed to swipe at her.

"Stop the violence!" Someone, maybe Silena, cries from within the crowd.

This is more embarrassing than running, Annabeth thinks. She couldn’t remember any of the self-defense she had learned and instead they ended up scratching each other and pulling at their hair.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” Annabeth yelled.

They’re at a standstill already. Both are breathing heavily, Annabeth can feel a fresh bruise throbbing on her cheek from the initial slap, plus all the random scrapes from rolling on the ground. Below her, Piper is attempting to break free from Annabeth’s pin but she can’t find enough leverage.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Annabeth repeats. “I thought it would be best.”

“Stop lying,” Piper spits. “For once in your fucking life, tell the truth. You were playing with my future and you were okay with that. All because you’re fucking scared.”

Annabeth grinds her teeth. She doesn’t feel her grip loosening. “That’s not true.”

Piper pushes Annabeth off of her. She gets to her feet, dusting herself off. Frantically, Annabeth pushes herself up onto her forearms, preparing for another onslaught of fighting.

Instead, Piper is staring down at her with pure rage etched into the fine details of her face. Where once Annabeth found peace, there was nothing but betrayal. It's such a bitter contrast to the way she had looked right before they had kissed, it makes Annabeth’s heart ache.

“It is true,” Piper growls down at her. She gestures all around them, to the scene that they had laid out for their classmates. Her words come out quick and sharp like knives. “You’re scared of imperfection. You’re scared of not winning Prom Queen. You’re scared of what they will think of you if you’re honest with them. You’re scared of your parents.”

Annabeth is crying, she can feel the hot tears tracing down the cheek that wasn’t slapped. She’s trying to hide it, but when she looks around at her classmates - a mixed bag of amusement, concern, and confusion - she can tell that they see the tears.

“Most of all, you’re scared of your own fucking feelings.” Piper’s voice cracks, “Figure them out. I’m tired of getting caught in the aftermath.”

Piper picks up her bag from the ground and leaves without another word. Annabeth is left on the ground, tears falling down her hot cheeks. The crowd stares at her for answers, Silena says something but Annabeth doesn’t hear it.

She lets herself collapse on the cold grass beneath her.

-*-*-*-

Annabeth cancels cheer practice. The crowd left when it became clear she was having an emotional breakdown, and once she realized it herself, it didn’t make sense to continue with the practice.

She successfully shrugged off Silena’s questions by saying she needed to go home and be alone. All of which is true. The last thing she wants to do is catch Silena up to speed, especially since she’s the one person who seems to be missing all the major happenings in her life.

So Annabeth grabbed her cheer bag and began trudging to her car. It’s only a matter of time before the entire school knows. By the end of the day, she’ll have another inquiring question from Silena in her messages. It’ll be a miracle if the front office or Coach Hedge don’t find out and then she’ll have to face whatever repercussions they give her. Percy will attempt to call. She’s not sure if she’ll answer.

Piper’s words rang on repeat in her mind.

You’re scared of what they will think of you if you’re honest with them.

“Annabeth?” A gentle voice catches her attention. She can feel a defensive wall already building up again.

She turns around. Will is standing a few feet away, a cautious yet hopeful expression on his face. He waves when she sees him.

“Will,” she says blankly.

He puts on a slight smile, “I’m going to be real here, I don’t know how to broach this conversation,” he jokes.

Annabeth bites down on her cheek to keep from smiling. It hurts, she ignores it.

“What do you mean?” She teases, “This is your first time consoling a friend after a very public physical altercation?”

His smile broadens, “A public altercation? Yes.”

Their shared chuckles hang in the air, making her feel warm and better on the inside for a moment. As it fades away, she begins to dig around in her bag for her keys.

“I’m okay, Will,” she says, not looking him in the eye. “But I appreciate that you checked in on me.”

He steps closer. “Let me drive you home, you shouldn’t be driving.”

“I can drive,” she insists. Her irritation builds up again as she struggles to navigate the contents of her bag. “I just got to find the fucking keys and then I’ll be fine.”

Will carefully pulls her bag towards him. He looks inside himself, calmly selecting her keys from beneath a case of gum and a hairbrush.

“I’m going to drive you home,” he responds simply.

Annabeth doesn’t argue. She pouts as she crosses around the car to the passenger door, but she doesn’t argue.

Will doesn’t speak until they are driving on the main streets of their town. It’s small talk about whatever is playing on the radio. It’s useless and they both know it. She still appreciates the attempt at a distraction.

He pulls her car into her driveway. Sheila’s car is the only other one there. Instinctively, Annabeth’s eyes flicker next door. No Piper to be found, thankfully.

Will turns the car off. He then pulls out his phone and begins tapping away.

“I’ll be out of your hair in a second,” he says, “I just have to have my mom come pick me up. I didn’t really plan this far ahead.”

Annabeth nods. She’s staring up at her large house.

You’re scared of what your parents think.

Sheila will be working on dinner, or with a friend out on the patio, or doing the boys’ laundry. She will greet Annabeth heartlessly when she walks in. They won’t see each other until dinner, if they see each other again at all. Annabeth is a guest in her own home.

“Do you want to come inside?” She offers. “I…I thought I wanted to be alone but I don’t. And, uh, I can give you a ride later.”

Will looks up from his phone. His eyes are wide with shock, but they soften once they see Annabeth’s gray eyes dimmed with weariness.

“Of course,” he answers definitively.

The two exit the car. As they enter the house and begin to make their way up the stairs, Sheila barely calls out a ‘hello’ and doesn’t come to check when a male voice also responds. Annabeth came home with a swollen, red cheek and the hints of a black eye but Sheila will never know.

In her room, Annabeth doesn’t know what to do. She invited Will to talk, but he takes a seat near the edge of her bed and she isn’t sure how to begin. She isn’t sure how she feels.

“Want to watch TV?” She questions, raising the remote in her hand.

Will nods. Annabeth turns the TV on to a rerun of some sitcom. Will takes the opportunity to cozy up near the head of the bed where Annabeth is. They sit in silence, much like the car, and Annabeth doesn’t feel the need to speak or do anything. Not even when the main character makes a bad joke and the stupid laugh track makes her cringe. It’s a strange comfort that she relishes in.

She finally says something three episodes in.

“Have you seen any of these before?” She wonders.

Will laughs, “All of them. I didn’t want to say anything.”

She sighs, dryly chuckling, “Yeah, me too.”

Annabeth turns off the TV. Will sits up and stares at her. She can feel the tension building as he works up the courage to address the elephant in the room.

“Can I ask you something?” He begins.

“...Sure,” she answers tentatively.

Will lays a warm hand on her’s. He blinks a few times.

“Are you gay?”

There it is. The elephant.

Annabeth feels panic stall her body. She attempts to laugh it off as a joke, it’s funny he would think that. She has a boyfriend. But her laughs sound stiff and choked. She shakes her head, a little too eagerly.

“No,” she responds. She sits straight up and repeats with a firmer tone, “No. No. Why would you ask that? I have a boyfriend.”

“Right, sorry. I didn’t mean - “ Will stutters. He stops himself and sighs, running his tongue over his lips. “I didn’t mean to say it like that. I just meant…I heard what Piper said. About being scared of your feelings. I could be reading too much into it, but…”

He stops. Annabeth’s crying. Her tears are coming fast and staining her white sheets. If he connected the dots, who else did? Oh and Percy…Percy will figure it out. If Will did, Percy who knows her better than anyone else will, too. She’s not ready to lose him.

“Annabeth,” he grabs her hands. “I’m going to say something and I need you to really hear me.”

“Yeah, okay,” she whimpers through her sobs.

He shakes his head, “I mean it. Listen to me. It’s okay. It’s okay to like Piper. I don’t know who has made you feel like it’s not, but it is.”

Annabeth squeezes her eyes shut. She’s back in the bathroom, kissing Piper. She’s in middle school, kissing Piper. And then she’s in the car with her father, hearing him call the newly elected sheriff a dyke. Or sitting at the dinner table while he gossips with Sheila about her cousin and how he came out, and how it must look to have him in the family.

“It’s okay,” he repeats, pulling her into his chest. She collapses against his collarbone, letting the tears stain his shirt.

“They can’t know,” she whispers, “not yet, none of them can.”

“They won’t,” Will promises. “Only we will, until you are ready.”

She looks up at him, “If you figured it out, who else will?”

He shakes his head. “I know gay panic when I see it. No one else will figure it out on their own. And the other gay kids won’t tell anyone if they managed to connect the dots, too. We all know what it’s like.”

Annabeth finds solace in his words, if only for a little bit. She collapses against his chest again, letting his warm embrace comfort her. She’s thankful he didn’t let her drive home alone.

“Does it get easier?” She questions. “Coming out, I mean.”

Will sinks lower into the bed, tugging one of the blankets over Annabeth. She didn’t realize she was shivering.

“It’s always scary,” he answers earnestly, “but you get better at it. You start to accept yourself.”

She sighs, grateful for the blankets. Her phone has begun to vibrate with text messages in her pocket, but she elects not to look at them.

“I don’t know what to do,” she confesses.

“Hmm,” Will hums, “I think you do.”

His words flush over her like cold water. She extracts herself from his arm and looks at him incredulously. Will only raises an eyebrow.

“What do you mean?” Annabeth shakes her head. “If I knew what to do, don’t you think I would’ve avoided all this? I’m not going t-to let Piper strongarm me into coming out and risking my whole life.”

“You shouldn’t,” Will agrees. He sits up in the bed, too. “I do think you know what to do in regards to Piper, though. She already knows the truth. You can’t leave things the way they are.”

Annabeth knows he’s right, but it doesn’t help calm the twinge of anxiety and fear that makes her flinch. The bruise on her cheek feels sore again. She flops into her pillow.

“I know,” she admits dejectedly.

Will hesitantly lifts up the remote, “For now we can just watch a movie?”

She nods, letting him select the first free and mildly entertaining movie they can find.

When the movie is over, Annabeth brings Will home. She thanks him profusely for his company, and for allowing her to use him as an excuse to miss out on the family dinner that night. All of what she says is genuine. In the short time they've spent together, Annabeth has told Will her deepest feelings and relied on him when she hasn’t been able to turn to those she normally relies on - Percy and Silena.

On the way back to her house, she stops to get a cheeseburger, the largest soda they had, and a pint of ice cream. As she sneaks back to her room, she can hear Frederick and Sheila discussing something or other about his work in the family room. The boys must be in their rooms or in the basement, doing homework or starting to build their next computer. Regardless, she’s happy for the solitude as she digs into her comfort meal.

Her mind is strangely blank as she eats. She thought her mind would be racing but Will was right. She knew what she had to do, it’s only a matter of when and if she could actually bring herself to do so.

She’s not sure how or when she’s going to ‘come out.’ For a long time, it was much easier to ignore all the nagging thoughts and feelings telling her that she’s different, different like her cousin who was so sure of himself. Then, when they became impossible to ignore, she supposed it would be easier to wait it out. She only had a few years trapped at home, once she no longer relied on her father and Sheila for shelter, it would be much easier to be free. Her gut still insists that it’s the best plan.

Coming out wasn’t an option, but attempting to make amends with Piper - maybe trying to explain her side of things - that was something she had full control over.

When she finished with her meal, she wads up the garbage and tosses it in the trash. She makes the trek back downstairs to put the ice cream in the fridge. Frederick and Sheila must’ve gone to bed, their voices no longer floated into the hallway.

Annabeth raced into the bathroom, using the arsenal of memories that bombard her as encouragement while she quickly fixes her hair the best she can and checks her cheek. It’s still flushed red with new purple bruising slightly underlining the bags of her eyes. Oh well, there’s nothing she can do about that.

Satisfied, she quietly slips out the patio doors. The front door is a heavy wood and always shakes the door frame when it’s open and shut, using the sliding patio doors was easier for sneaking out. Normally she didn’t have to work so hard to avoid getting caught, either Frederick and Sheila were out of town or they didn’t care enough to make sure she wasn’t, but with the purpose of this breaking of the rules, she didn’t want to risk anything.

She crosses the yard that separates her house from McLean’s, tracing her way into the front yard and identifying Piper’s window. She has to push through a few bushes to reach the glass. A warm light emanates from behind the curtains, Annabeth has never been more grateful that her neighbor’s room is on the bottom floor.

Before she can change her mind, Annabeth raises a shaky hand and gently knocks on the window. A long moment passes with no response. She knocks again, this time much softer. Right as she’s about to curse her cheesy, movie-like attempt at an apology, Piper’s face is pushing through the curtains. Her eyebrows are quirked-up in confusion, eyes already set in irritation, increasing ten-fold when she sees Annabeth standing in the bushes.

Crossing her arms over her chest, Piper mouths ‘go away.’

Stubbornly, she shakes her head. A few seconds pass, Piper expectantly waiting for her to go.
Annabeth stares back, barely blinking. Finally, Piper rolls her eyes and huffs, but unlocks the latch on the window and lifts it open.

“What do you want?” Piper snaps.

Annabeth flinches. “I wanted to talk to you, about…er, everything.”

“Everything?” The other girl questions.

“Everything,” she promises in return.

Piper licks her lips, clearly pondering whether or not to take Annabeth for her word. She then gestures behind her with a flick of her hand.

“Come inside,” she permits. “But use the damn door.”

Annabeth nods, carefully stepping her way out of the bushes and towards the front door. Piper is already there, already holding it open and saving Annabeth from having to knock for a third time.

Without another word, Piper leads Annabeth down the hallway and into her room. Tristan must not be home, because she did so without worry of getting caught and most of the lights were off.

Navigating her way through the house for the first time since middle school catches Annabeth off-guard with nostalgia. She remembers sitting at the kitchen island while Piper’s mom made them grilled cheeses and sang silly songs that she made up as she went along. There are still some photos on the walls with Annabeth in them, like the time Tristan took them to the fire station and they got to sit behind the wheel of the fire truck. In the picture, Annabeth is missing one of her front teeth and Piper has a bead braided into her hair. It doesn’t show that only a few moments after, Piper accidentally hit one of the sirens and shocked Annabeth so badly she burst into tears.

Piper’s room was the epicenter of all the nostalgia. Obviously, Piper had changed a lot about the room as she grew older, but a lot of it resembled the bedroom Annabeth had last seen. The walls were still a light purple, although the curtains were changed out for a black instead of a floral pink. The Hannah Montana bed sheets had been swapped out and the miscellaneous posters of stupid teen heartthrobs (Piper had been in love with Zayn from One Direction) had been replaced with posters for different bands, paintings that Piper must’ve made, and photos with that Leo Valdez and a girl that Annabeth knows she should be able to recognize, but can’t.

The biggest mainstay is the keyboard pressed against the window. Annabeth’s stomach churns as it remembers the flurry of emotions she had felt that day, right before she dared to press her lips against Piper’s. She hadn’t kissed anyone before, didn’t know how and had no clue how to initiate it, yet when she was sitting there…it felt right. Beside the piano on a table is a flute case, opened with the flute resting on the wood next to it. Piper must’ve been practicing earlier.

She doesn’t notice the dizzying amount of memories running through Annabeth’s brain, so Piper takes a seat at the foot of her bed and taps her foot impatiently.

Awkwardly, Annabeth shifts in the doorframe. Walking any further in the room seemed too daunting and frankly, intrusive. They weren’t friends anymore. Friends walk into the room to hang out and chat, gossip about who they like and do homework. Annabeth doesn’t deserve that luxury.

“Well?” Piper questions. “Are you going to talk?”

“Er, yeah,” Annabeth clears her throat. “I, um, wanted to say sorry.”

Unimpressed, Piper crosses her arms back over her chest and shrugs. “Look, if that piss-poor excuse of an apology is the reason you came, you can go. I’m not wasting my time so you can try and make yourself feel better.”

“That’s not - “ she begins to object, but gives in. Piper is right, her first attempt at saying sorry was ingenuine and awkward. All she has to do is say exactly what she knows needs to be said.

WIth a sudden burst of confidence, Annabeth pushes further into the room so she’s standing in front of the other girl. She looks down at her neighbor, thinking back to how weird it was earlier that Piper was literally staring down at her and now the roles are reversed.

“Piper, I am really sorry,” Annabeth begins, her tone already coming out more genuine than before. “I’m sorry for everything. I’ve treated you horribly since middle school and it wasn’t fair to you. I was just…”

Intrigued, Piper leans forward with a raised eyebrow. Annabeth notices immediately, suddenly realizing at the same time how pretty Piper looks. The cut on her chin from their fight has scabbed over, but there were no other signs of a fight. Her hair is in two big buns, showing off the strip of color that has become typical for her. A pencil is stuck behind her ear from whatever she was doing before Annabeth came over. Dark eyeliner frames her eyes, emphasizing the swatch of colors that always catch Annabeth by surprise, no matter how many times she sees them.

Annabeth can hear her heart hammering in the back of her mind, and can practically feel the rush of adrenaline pumping through her veins. Her fingers begin to twitch nervously. It’s in this moment she completely understands why kissing Piper had felt inevitable the previous two times they were alone like this.

“- I was scared,” Annabeth admits. “Like you said, I was terrified by everything. The pressure from my dad, everything at school…but nothing scared me more th-than how…” She coughs.

“Than how I feel about you.”

Piper bites down on her lip. Her words come out low and hesitant, “How do you feel about me?”

Annabeth twists her tongue in her mouth. In her head, she’s already screaming the words. But, the giant wall she had built inside herself years ago wasn’t so easily torn down.

“I-I think,” she chokes. She doesn’t feel the tears as they race down her cheeks, but she can feel the saltiness as they reach her mouth. She takes a breath, “I think I might be in love with you.”

Chapter Text

Piper can hardly believe Annabeth’s words.

“I think I might be in love with you,” hangs in the air like fog.

Annabeth is standing in front of her and has completely frozen. Her mouth is open, her eyes wide, as if she also can’t comprehend what she admitted.

It wasn’t a secret that Annabeth had some sort of feelings for Piper, obviously. Love, though? That’s a whole different level that she isn’t so sure she’s able to handle.

“Uh, obviously that’s no excuse for how I treated you,” Annabeth continues. “I just thought you should know…it’s a conflicting time for me and y-you ended up paying the price. I needed - need - to figure out my own issues.”

Piper is hardly listening. Annabeth’s words sound sincere, but she’s focused elsewhere.

For example, it is hitting her now that she is going to be expected to have a response. In all the drama, all the time that Piper spent thinking about Annabeth and their history, she hadn’t stopped to think about how she feels. She had been too stressed over how Annabeth might feel and panicking about that, not about how being honest would look in return.

“And I definitely shouldn’t have kissed you,” Annabeth is saying. “I…I don’t regret it, I guess, because…It’s helped me work through some stuff, as selfish as that sounds. But, I shouldn’t have sprung it on you and I shouldn’t have ran, and I definitely should’ve asked. I’m sorry.”

This is a lot for Piper to navigate in a matter of seconds. How could she be so oblivious to her own emotions? She’s been angry for years, it served its purpose at the time and now that anger is only serving as a distraction.

Annabeth has stopped speaking. She’s staring at her, wringing her hands nervously.

Piper is stuck in shock. Her mouth is also hanging open, but her eyes are glued to the floor. She’s completely unaware of the spiral that Annabeth has also begun to fall down.

“I-I don’t want you to feel pressured to say anything,” Annabeth begins to speak faster and more frantically. Her hands are constantly moving, either tugging on her fingers or running it along the side of her pants. The words come out slurred, nearly inaudible. “The kiss was too far, especially the second time. I don’t know what came over me and it must’ve been so awkward for you. I don’t know what to say other than I’m sorry.”

In a moment of clarity, Piper finds words leaving her own mouth before she has time to process what she is saying.
“I’m not mad about the kiss,” her voice sounds foreign to herself; low and a tad gravelly. Her heartbeat quickens as she hesitantly pries her eyes off of the ground to make eye contact with Annabeth’s intimidating gray irises.

This time her eyes aren’t scary. Instead, they’re wide and practically hollow. Most of all, they're alarmingly afraid.

“You’re not?” The other girl asks. Her normal sturdy tone was replaced with a pipsqueak of doubt.

“No,” Piper confirms. “I was never mad about the kiss.”

Annabeth’s eyebrows lift, like she wants to ask if that means what she thinks it does. Piper steels herself for the question, she’s still not sure about that herself. All she knows is what she said: she wasn’t mad about either of the kisses.

“Oh,” is all that leaves Annabeth’s mouth.

Piper nods slowly. She’s the opposite of Annabeth, her words are like molasses. “Yeah. If you had stuck around, I would’ve told you that. Both times, actually.”

“Oh,” she repeats.

Silence fills the room again. Annabeth’s eyes flit around the room, there’s nothing for Piper to do but watch. She’s uncertain what her next move is, but she’s not the one apologizing.

Annabeth’s shoulders stiffen. “I suppose that doesn’t change anything. I’m still sorry. I hope you can forgive me, but I won’t blame you if you never want to see me again. I, um, will vouch for you with Coach Hedge for how little or how much help you want to give for the Prom Committee.”

“That’s not why I’m mad, either,” she corrects.

“I know,” Annabeth says softly, “but I’ve handled our situation horribly for years. It’s the least I can do in return. I’m sorry for all of it. It was easier for me to pretend you didn’t exist, that our…situation didn’t exist. That’s not fair to you. All I can say is sorry.”

“Okay,” Piper actually finds comfort in the words. “Thank you, I appreciate it.”

Awkwardly, Annabeth moves towards the door. “I’ll, er, go then, leave you in peace and all that.”

Piper stands abruptly, “You shouldn’t go.”

Both girls stop in their tracks. The shock is written all over Annabeth’s face. She stalls, scratching the back of her neck.

“I shouldn’t?” She questions incredulously.

“No,” Piper doubles-down. “I…I should say things, too.”

“Oh, okay.”

Mentally, Piper curses herself out. Saying things would be great, if she had a plan of what she wanted to tell Annabeth. Now, Annabeth stares at her expectantly and it’s distracting Piper from forming helpful thoughts.

Chewing on her lips, Piper hesitantly begins. “Like you said, you didn’t handle things well. But, I don’t know, in a weird way I understand. Your life is, er, a lot different than mine. You have different circumstances than I do. It can’t be easy. So, yeah, I get it. Oh, and I shouldn’t have slapped you.”

“Thanks,” Annabeth smiles dryly. “That wasn’t necessary, but thanks.”

“I just wanted you to know that no one is pressuring you to come out,” Piper returns the smile with a slight grin.

Annabeth’s face changes, morphing into something that Piper can’t pin a name too. “Come out?” She repeats, dubiously.

“Yeah,” Piper blinks. “You should only come out when you’re ready.”

“I don’t think I ever will,” Annabeth mumbles. “At least not in the near future. I-I love Percy. And my parents…it’s not smart. And I don’t…I don’t know what I am.”

Something within Piper deflates. Her cheeks burn brightly. Wasn’t Annabeth saying only a couple minutes ago that she might be in love with her?

She bites down on her cheek, pretending that her face isn’t flushing with embarrassment. “Well, I mean, it’s up to you. I didn’t tell anyone.”

That catches Annabeth’s attention, “You didn’t?”

“No,” Piper responded. “I didn’t say anything the first time, either. Mostly because you threatened me, but still. No one knows.”

For a moment, Annabeth’s mouth drops open in a stunned silence. She then quickly goes to step forward, only to stop herself. She balls her hands up at her side. Her cheeks are nearly as red as Piper’s. Her eyes dart to Piper’s lips.

“Can I kiss you right now?” She asks in a whisper of a voice.

Piper laughs. Her voice echoes in the room. The flip-flopping of their conversation is comical.

One glance back at Annabeth’s face cuts her guffaw short. “You’re serious?” She wonders.

“Yes,” Annabeth sheepishly confirms.

Internally, Piper’s struggling to connect the dots. Things already weren’t making sense before but the more she talks with Annabeth, the more confusing it all gets. It’s clear Annabeth isn’t sure what she wants, she’s stuck between the life she’s had and the new life she’s slowly being forced to accept. Piper knows that. And she knows that she can step aside to make things easier, or she can selfishly continue down the path her heart is telling to follow.

Her mind is processing all of this, and without a conclusion, she propels herself forward. For the first time, she’s pressing her lips to Annabeth’s.

The world halts.

Piper has kissed people before. She’s been kissed by Annabeth, twice. She kissed Jason a ton, in fact she’s starting to think maybe that’s all their relationship was. Chris Rodriguez had kissed her freshman year behind the bleachers during gym. One time, when Hazel had been heartbroken and sworn she was a lesbian, Piper had kissed her. She’s had plenty of kisses of all varieties. She thought she knew what to expect.

But something in this kiss is different. Maybe it’s that Piper is the one initiating it, or maybe it’s because they both know how the other feels, but it fries her nerves and her mind is blank for the first time in days. All she can focus on is Annabeth - the way her mouth parts slightly, her hands mindlessly finding Piper’s hips to tug her closer, and the sweet taste of chocolate on her lips.

Time has blurred, her heartbeat simultaneously soaring and slowing down, this isn’t like any other kiss.

She wants to pull Annabeth closer, to lock the door and barricade themselves in. They can exchange their favorite books and Piper can play songs on the piano until Annabeth gets goaded into singing (she has a lovely voice). They’ll be happy and maybe kiss some more, because Piper is starting to realize she may not be able to stop kissing Annabeth. The world will pass by without them; Juilliard acceptance letters will come and go, football games and pep rallies will drift by, Prom will arrive, but they’ll still be here, alone in Piper’s room. This is where they are safe, this is where Annabeth can be herself, this is where they can be together.

Piper is about to pull away to catch her breath and propose her plan to Annabeth when a ringtone cuts through the air. Annabeth untangles herself from Piper’s grasp immediately, her shoulders already tense again.

She pulls the phone out of her pocket, but doesn’t answer it. The ringtone repeats itself. She stares at Piper, guilt making her hard expression soften.

“It’s Percy,” she says simply.

Piper feels her forehead crease as she scrunches her face together. “You should take that,” she responds, her tone dry.

“Should I?” Annabeth wonders, a lilt in her voice sounding almost hopeful - like maybe she’s hoping Piper will tell her to ignore the call.

And Piper desperately wants her to. She stares at the phone, a picture of Percy is on the screen. His obnoxiously handsome smile and bright sea green eyes are unmistakable. He’s probably calling to check in on Annabeth after the hard day. He’ll ask her if she wants to talk about it, or if there’s anything he can do to help. He’ll suggest alternating cold and hot compresses for any soreness Annabeth might have from the fight and offer to buy her lunch tomorrow or something equally as considerate. He’s a good guy, a kind and caring boyfriend.

God, Piper has never fucking hated him more. It would be easy to tell Annabeth to ignore him. She feels bad admitting it.

The ringtone dies for a moment. Percy’s face disappears from the screen. A jolt of relief hits Piper hard, immediately followed by guilt. She can’t make this decision for Annabeth. The two girls lock eyes, asking each other what to do next.

A single moment passes before the ringtone is echoing through the room again. Percy’s face returns to cellphone.

“Take it,” Piper repeats, surprising herself with how genuine it sounds.

Annabeth moves her thumb, stopping it right as it hovers over the green button. She peeks at Piper’s face again, giving her one more chance to interject. Piper turns away.

“Hi,” Annabeth’s voice wavers.

In an effort to keep herself busy, Piper finds her flute on the side table and begins to disassemble it. She can’t hear what Percy is saying on the other end of the phone and she doesn’t want to try and guess. It will only make her blood boil, and Percy doesn’t deserve any of the animosity she’s feeling towards him.

“I’m okay,” Annabeth remarks, “really, I am. Okay…I will…Thanks for checking in, can I call you back?”

Piper clicks her flute case shut, slowly glancing behind her to see Annabeth’s face out of the corner of her eyes. The blonde girl is staring at Piper, her face ghostly but her eyes oddly confident. Piper wonders if she had been staring the whole time.

“Thanks,” Annabeth speaks into the phone, but her attention doesn’t shift off of Piper. “Okay, bye. Uh…” there’s a pause. She finally looks away. “L-love you, too.”

Silence once again fills the room. The swell of emotions Piper had been feeling drains out of her. She can taste the chocolate on her lips still, her heart is still fluttering, but the cold reminder of Annabeth’s ties to Percy makes her stomach twist.

“Sorry,” Annabeth breaks the silence. She’s scratching the back of her neck, “I didn’t think he would call.”

Piper wanted to snap back that she should’ve known, anyone who knew Percy would know that he would call. The least Annabeth could’ve done was put her phone on silent. Instead, Piper shakes her head and turns back around.

She sucks in a breath, “I need time to think, Annabeth.”

Her words sound like a formal declaration, and judging by the way Annabeth’s eyebrows raise, it catches her off-guard.

“Okay,” she nods, “okay. Yeah, I understand. This…this shouldn’t have happened.”

“I don’t regret it,” Piper objects. She thinks over her words carefully. “I just need to think things through. A lot has happened. It’s easy to get caught up in…whatever this is.”

Annabeth’s lips fold into a frown, but she nods again.

“And you’re still in the closet,” Piper adds. She’s starting to feel anxious again. “That’s your decision and I respect it - I just don’t know if I can be someone’s secret. That’s not fair to me.”

“It’s not,” she agrees quietly.

“So I need to take time to think,” Piper repeats. “And I think you need it, too.”

Annabeth chews on her lip, “Okay.”

“Okay,” Piper smiles dryly.

“I’m going to go then,” Annabeth gestures to the door behind her.

There’s an awkward shift in the air. Annabeth shuffles out of the room, quietly shutting the door behind her. Piper is glued to her spot, internally lamenting her decision already.

-*-*-*-

Piper wakes up feeling hungover. She’s groggy and still in her clothes from the night before and had slept on top of the covers. She can’t remember how or when she fell asleep, but it only takes a moment before she remembers what happened. If she concentrates, she can still feel Annabeth’s lips on her own.

The clock on her bedside table reads nearly 9 o’clock in the morning. She’s almost an hour late for school. Her backpack is slouched against the edge of her bed. As she stares at it, the idea of changing and having to tip-toe around school all day makes her sick. She was the one who asked for space and time, but she’s afraid of how she will feel seeing Annabeth. Or, seeing Hazel and having to keep this quickly-growing secret to herself.

Sucking in a breath, she checks her phone. She has a missed call from Hazel, one from Miss Trinity, along with a few text messages from her.

MISS T: Guess who’s back early?

Piper can tell it’s legit because of the obscene amount of emojis Miss Trinity threw in at the end. A crushing amount of relief nearly brings tears to her eyes. Her mentor’s surprise return from a long vacation is the perfect excuse to skip school (and all its implications) to catch up and practice some more for Juilliard.

Instead of changing into clothes for school and packing up her homework, she gathers her flute and her current set of sheet music. She puts on a hand-me-down maroon shirt with her father’s fire engine number on it; it’s way too big and she mostly wore it as pajamas, but for today it would do. She then redoes her hair into a bun and brushes her teeth before leaving the sanctuary of her room.

The music store is only a few blocks away from her house, which was part of the reason she was able to spend time there as a kid. If her parents were unable to drop her off or find childcare (both became an issue for Tristan once Dove passed away), it was a short and safe enough distance that she could walk herself. Now as an 18 year old without a car of her own, it was the gift that kept giving.

Piper finds the store relatively empty, not unusual for a weekday morning. Joni Mitchell songs are floating melodiously through the store, the first sign that Miss Trinity had made her return. The second sign was Miss Trinity herself, standing behind the register in one of her shawls and her glasses sitting on the bridge of her nose. She’s the same as she was when Piper last saw her before she left for Ojai. Trinity is nothing if not consistent.

Beside the old woman, is Austin Lake. It shouldn’t be a surprise, but his presence on a school day startles Piper for a moment - before she remembers he’s part of the work program Goode offers for students once they become upperclassmen. Hopefully he won’t think much of her missing school, either.

“If that happens again just give them the discount,” Miss Trinity was explaining in a soothing tone. “Make a note in the system, but if any of the managers have a problem, send them my way.”

“You got it, Miss T,” Austin nods along, scribbling something on a piece of paper.

Miss Trinity lets her glasses drop from her nose to dangle around her neck on their glittery chain. As Piper approaches, she catches her out of the corner of her eye. Immediately, she spreads her arms out wide and lets out a harmonious cheer.

“Pip!” She gushes as she makes her way out from around the counter. As she walks, there’s a strange lurch to her step.

Trinity hobbles to her, a thick black boot clasped onto her foot. It doesn’t stop the older woman from tugging Piper into a warm hug that smells distinctly of potpourri. Piper hugs her back gratefully.

“Welcome back!” Piper exclaims, her voice sounding weaker than usual as she’s getting squeezed.

From behind Miss Trinity’s back, Austin shoots Piper a grinning thumbs up. Everything feels at peace again.

As they pull apart, the older woman observes Piper’s appearance in a very grandmother-ly way. She arches an eyebrow, as if concerned, but she doesn’t raise any questions.

“I missed you,” she says in a breathless tone. “You would’ve loved the sunsets in Ojai. And we had breakfast every morning at this quaint cafe, they had live music at night. A lot of that indie stuff you kids are so hip on these days. I took some videos for you.”

“I can’t wait to see them,” Piper grins. She gestures to the injured ankle. “What happened, though? Are you okay?”

Miss Trinity waves off her concern, “Oh, that’s nothing. I took a lover while staying in Palm Springs for a night. One thing led to another and - “

“Okay,” Piper interrupts, but she can’t help the smirk on her face. “I don’t need the details.”

“Thank you,” Austin groans.

“I’m just thankful the surfing portion of my trip had already ended,” the older woman continues, a hand over her heart. “I don’t think I would’ve had any more energy to ride the waves after that night.”

Piper bites her lip to keep from letting out any encouraging giggles, “Right, okay. Me too, I guess. Is that why you ended your trip early?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” she confirms. “The doctor said I need to rest up before any more major trips. I should be all healed for Yellowstone, though.”

“I’m sorry, that sucks,” Piper murmurs sympathetically.

“Oh, it’s fine,” Miss Trinity assures in a soothing tone. “It just means I have extra time with you before you leave for Juilliard. Now, catch me up. How is everything?”

She drags Piper over to a corner of the store, where two arm chairs are arranged near some of the display guitars. They take their seats facing one another. Piper suddenly feels flushed.

“I need to play you some of my audition pieces,” Piper begins. “I think I’m having trouble keeping the tempo in my - “

Trinity lays a hand on Piper’s arm comfortingly, “We will get to the music, Pip. For now I want to know how you are.”

“What do you mean?” She plays dumb.

Her mentor raises another slim eyebrow. “You’re skipping school today. And, I don’t always claim to understand new fashion trends, but you look like I did when I woke up on the third day of Woodstock. I slept in a ditch that night.”

She’s shocked that the older woman realized she had missed school. It took her months to question why Austin was able to work during the day, and that was after the school called to confirm Austin’s work program. In her sophomore year, Piper herself had skipped school for nearly a week at the music shop in preparation for a major piano competition she was taking part in. It wasn’t until the day of the competition that Miss Trinity noticed.

Piper only laughs, “It’s nothing. I didn’t sleep well last night.”

“Hmm,” Miss Trinity hums, completely unconvinced. She shrugs, “When you’re ready to talk about it, I’m here.”

She considers it. After all, telling Trinity about Annabeth would have zero repercussions. It’s not like the old woman would have anyone to gossip about it to, even if she told Austin, he probably wouldn’t believe her. Piper could barely believe what happened herself.

Piper decides she’s too tired to rehash it all. The drama could write a play at this point and it would take too long to get through just the first act.

“Thank you,” she responds simply, “I will. But tell me more about your trip - the PG-13 version, please.”

Slyly, Miss Trinity smirks, “Oh, but then you’ll miss all the best parts.”

Piper laughs. All the anxiety that had carried over from the night before melted away in that moment. She’s back where she belongs, joking with one of her favorite people in her safe space.

Practicing alone got the job done while Miss Trinity was away. She knew what she needed to work on, if she had questions or concerns she could easily contact Miss Trinity or the network of music-minded people that frequented the store. There’s no denying that she was getting better as a musician in preparation for her Juilliard application.

However, when Trinity was home everything felt different. The store seemed to come to life in a way it never did when she was gone. The candles smell better, the lights were softer, and there was a calmness that settled over all the workers, including Piper and all the frequent customers. She missed it.

She missed it so much that she spends the whole day mucking around with Austin and Miss Trinity. They hardly talk about her music and she only plays one song on the flute because there is too much work for Trinity to catch up on. Piper didn’t mind, she practically works there anyway. She helps put out the new vinyls and organize the sheet music, Miss Trinity returns phone calls and goes through some paperwork (shredding most, she’s a bit reckless when it comes to important documents) while Austin polishes the brass instruments and distracts them with some soft strumming on a guitar.

The next day is a Friday and the last football game of the season. It’s an away game, which Piper was grateful for. She doesn’t have Pep Band, which means it’s an easy school day to skip again and spend time with Miss Trinity. This time she lets Hazel and Leo know why she’s skipping, and even gets her dad to email the front office to excuse her.

She wakes up at the same time as the day before, dresses a little more put together, and arrives at the music store with two warm cups of tea she brewed at home.

Miss Trinity is on the phone behind the counter. Austin is nowhere to be found, he must actually be at school. A few customers mill around the store, flicking through the CDs or admiring the wall of posters.

As Piper enters, Trinity looks over and mouths for Piper to meet her in the backroom. Her heart flutters with relief. She was happy to help in any way, but she would be lying if she said she wasn’t a little disappointed that there hadn’t been much time for music the day prior.

In the backroom, Piper unpacks her flute and correctly arranges her sheet music. She sets the hot tea down next to Miss Trinity’s usual chair and lights some incense. Already, she’s beginning to feel the familiarity of having Trinity sitting in on her rehearsal return. It’s a special kind of comfort.

There’s something about it, too, that makes Piper feel like Dove is watching over her. Deep down, she knows that if there is some afterlife, her mother is watching with love all the time. But she never feels her presence like she does when working her way through a sonata with Miss Trinity.

“Sorry about that,” Miss Trinity flows into the room suddenly. She gently closes the door behind her. “I got held up with an important call.”

“No worries,” Piper smiles. She’s in her own chair now, angling it just right so she can see both the music and Miss Trinity. “I brought you some tea.”

“Chamomile?”

Piper nods diligently.

Trinity takes her seat, immediately reaching for her cup. “You know me so well, Pip. Thank you. Now, what were we having trouble with?”

Piper picks up her flute and begins to explain. She asks all the questions she’d been saving in her mentor’s absence or had felt weren’t important enough to warrant an out of the blue text. Trinity listens patiently and hums to let her know she’s comprehending all that Piper is saying. She answers each question with intentional words and softly spoken compliments that work like a healing salve over Piper’s worries and stress.

And once they get into the music, all the confidence she feels increases tenfold. They stay that way for hours, only taking small breaks for Piper to listen to critique and drink some tea. Miss Trinity begins to knit after a while, but her attention never wavers. Any time Piper makes a mistake, she raises a hand to cut her off and she starts from the beginning of the measure.
They don’t leave the room until it’s nearly 4, when Miss Trinity is summoned from someone working the counter for help. Piper follows like a lost puppy, wanting to stretch out her legs and use the bathroom.

The store is busier now, a lot of them Piper recognizes as regulars or people Miss Trinity is friendly with. An older man is inspecting one of the drum sets, making some tweaks to the symbols and testing the bass pedal. Another older woman is tuning a guitar beside him, intently focused on the pegs. While Trinity flits off to the register to help, Piper meanders over to them.

“Can I help you guys with anything?” She offers kindly.

“Oh, that depends,” the old man responds in a playful tone, “on whether or not I can borrow this kit for a few songs?”

Piper has spent years in this store and isn’t honestly sure of the answer to that question. There’s always display instruments, some of which they allow to be played, but she can’t recall a time anyone ever sat down and actually played the drums.

“Ray, you got her all flustered,” the older lady chastised, but the man just snickered as he took his spot behind the bass drum. The lady then turns back towards Piper. “Ignore him - he’s just teasing. We’ve known Trin for decades now. She won’t mind.”

Piper eyes up the two people in front of her. The old man, Ray, has a long gray beard that’s well trimmed and half-moon, green spectacles on his nose. His jacket that he’s taking off has fringe and she’s pretty sure he’s wearing jorts. The other lady is dressed similarly, with a hand knitted vest over a well-worn flowery sundress. A bandana holds her long hair out of her face. They definitely look like people Miss Trinity would’ve met on some of her adventures.

“Well in that case,” Piper smirks, “can I join you?”

“Hell yeah,” Ray beams.

The lady matches his excitement, “What do you play?”

“Piano and flute,” she answers.

“We could use someone on the keys,” the lady winks at her. “I’m Gloria, and this is Ray.”

“Piper,” she greets, with a delayed wave.

“Nice to meet you Piper,” Gloria slings the guitar over her shoulders.

Piper returns the words with a smile before walking over to haul over the display keyboard. It didn’t take long, but by the time she placed it on its stand near the drums and guitar, Miss Trinity had already made her way over.

“Gloria, Ray, I see you’ve met my little protege,” she coos, laying a hand on Piper’s shoulder in a way that felt like she was being presented.

“Yeah, we were just about to hear what she’s got,” Gloria announces.

“That’s okay, right?” Piper wonders cautiously.

“Of course,” Miss Trinity smiles. “That sounds like great practice.”

Cheerily, Piper sits down behind the keys and makes sure it’s plugged in. Gloria tunes her guitar with careful fingers.

“So,” Ray says as he tightens the symbols. “What do you know how to play, kid? Stones? Billy Joel? Janis Joplin? Maybe we should start off with a little Wonderwall, just to get you comfortable.”

Piper smirks, “Pick whatever song you want, old man. I’ll figure it out.”

Gloria cackles, “Oh, I like you already.”

Ray chuckles easily along with them. “Alright, let’s give you a challenge then.”

He cracks his knuckles with a glow of confidence. Him and Gloria exchange a few silent words before he picks up his sticks and begins to rattle off the opening notes of a song. After a measure or so, Gloria joins in on the guitar with her own powerful chords. They already sound great together. It makes sweet goosebumps pop onto Piper’s skin.

She waits a little bit, listening to the notes and finding a beat in her mind. She vaguely recognizes the song as something Miss Trinity used to play a lot a few years ago - she was alway going through phases of non-stop listening to certain artists or genres. With a refreshed confidence, Piper begins to tickle away at the keys.

Her piano seamlessly joins in the harmony of the strings and drum beats. She’s rewarded with a praiseful smirk from Ray and nods of approval from Gloria. Piper feels a smile slide onto her own face as they march their way through the songs.

The only downside of her music education was how much of it had been solitary or less occasionally, with Miss Trinity playing alongside her. She has marching band and for a few years, jazz band, which scratched some sort of itch but nothing felt like this - playing whatever felt instinctive to her, the reward of matching the tempo and trusting her gut.

One song turned into multiple. She recognized a lot of the other ones as old Graham Nash songs, a few Beach Boys classics, and a bunch of other old hits. As the early evening wore on, small crowds formed and mingled. Ray, who picked the songs, tended to lead them through more recognizable tunes - like Piano Man which really put Piper’s skills on display. She even got Ray to follow her lead on a few more modern songs, though he claimed to hate Miley Cyrus his smile never left his face.

A handful of guests tried to leave tips, but Gloria always refused to accept them. Miss Trinity plays host seamlessly, floating through the crowd and chatting with whoever was there. She never tried to hawk them any merchandise, she didn’t need to, their music spoke for themselves.

After they finish a stirring rendition of a Sonny and Cher song, Ray announces a small break to the crowd who nod and begin admiring the record collection. Someone walks over and starts up a conversation with Gloria.

“Hey,” Ray walks around his drums so he’s standing in front of Piper. “You can really play, kid. I mean it. Even the songs you didn’t know, you sound natural.”

“Thanks, Ray,” Piper smiles back at him. “I’ve never played like this before, it’s a blast. I should go get my flute and give that a try.”

He scoffs in disbelief, “The only way you could impress me more is if you play the piano and flute at the same time.”

Piper shrugs, “Hey, I’ll try it.”

The old man laughs heartily and gives her a friendly tap on the shoulder before he walks off to go use the bathroom. Piper gets to her feet, stretching out after sitting in front of the keys for so long consecutively.

She fetches her water out of the backroom and takes a few satisfying drinks before mingling around the crowd herself. Normally she’s locked in the back when the store is busy and she finds all the guests are friendly, sometimes asking her more about what she was playing or recommendations she’d have.

Austin Lake had arrived at some point, and was behind the register talking about a Lorde album with someone. He waves to her with a twinkle in his eyes when he sees her.

“You sounded really good,” a soft voice calls from behind her.

Piper turns around, nearly dropping her water bottle when she finds Annabeth standing in front of her.

“Annabeth?” She gawks. “What are you doing here?”

The other girl looks just as shocked that she’s there. Her cheeks are already red, and she’s still in practice clothes from cheer. Piper can’t help but notice how toned her arms are.

“You haven’t been at school,” Annabeth replies matter-of-factly, “and I worried it had something to do with me.”

Piper pauses, taking a second to check her anger. She sighs.

“It didn’t have anything to do with you,” she answers, half-honestly. “And you didn’t need to check in on me. That’s not your job. I’m fine.”

“Oh. Okay,” Annabeth nods. “Well, like I said, you sounded good. Like, really great. It’s cool hearing you play.”

Piper licks her lips. “Cool, thanks. Listen, what are you doing?”

“I told you,” Annabeth blinks. “I was worried you were avoiding me.”

Hesitantly, Piper crosses her arms over her chest. She has to manually lower her voice.

“I’m going to put this bluntly,” she scolds. “I asked for space. If I was avoiding you, that was the fucking point.”

Annabeth pales, she chews her lip. “Okay, yeah, but that didn’t seem…I don’t know I just…couldn’t stop thinking and I got worried about you. Er, about us, actually. Like I had handled things wrong again.”

Piper curses under her breath and runs a hand through her hair. “No, you didn’t,” she tells the blonde girl. “You handled things fine. But now you have to respect my wishes and give me space. God, you and Jason are the fucking same. You can’t handle any response that isn’t immediate.”

Annabeth’s eyes are wide, but she doesn’t speak. Piper continues.

“You need the space, too, Annabeth. We have a lot to think about, as individuals. Which means we have to think about it…individually.”

“Okay, yeah. Sorry,” the girl finally squeaks out. It’s such a small, almost weak sound that’s so unlike her it pains Piper to hear it.

She frowns, “Don’t be sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed you or let you kiss me or whatever happened. That confused things, I think.”

“I…” Annabeth starts proudly. Her eyes then dip as she finishes the sentence, “I didn’t mind it, even if it is a bit confusing.”

Piper bites her lips to hide from blushing. There’s no reason she should feel so happy to hear Annabeth admit that.

“I think you should go,” she says, instead of all the other things she wished she could tell her; like go grab a chair and listen some more, let me introduce you to all my cool new friends. “Before Austin starts asking questions and it gets around school.”

Annabeth’s eyes flicker over to Austin at the counter. She nods, “Okay, I will.”

She turns on her heel and starts towards the door. Piper watches her go, her eyes glued to the back of her princess pony tail. It suddenly stops bouncing, and Annabeth turns around.

“Piper?” She says, just barely loud enough for her to hear.

“Yes?”

“I’m glad you weren’t avoiding me,” she smiles softly.

Piper returns the smile, a little cautiously. Annabeth then turns and actually leaves, her absence indicated by the gradual slowing of Piper’s heartbeat and the store’s bell ringing.

“Hey, Pip,” Miss Trinity calls. She has collected a harmonica from somewhere and is waiting near Gloria and Ray, “I’m joining your little shindig!”

And just like that, the stress of Annabeth temporarily melts away again as she walks back over to the piano.

Chapter Text

Patience was never a virtue Annabeth had. To anyone else, being a control-freak or Type A are synonymous with being abrasive and high-strung. All Annabeth hears when those words are thrown around are determined and ambitious. She has goals to work towards, what a gift to be grateful for.

It’s only natural that when it came to Piper, patience was that much more of a struggle for her. It’s been weeks since they’ve talked, which doesn’t help. She can’t shake the nagging feeling that she did something wrong; that she had gone too far or not far enough. Was there anything she could’ve said or done that would’ve changed the outcome?

And what outcome was she hoping for? That still eluded her.

“C’mon Gladys, get those knees up!” Will’s voice echoes.

Annabeth is pulled back into reality. Her and Will are volunteering at a senior living center twice a week now, they both thought it would be a nice and easy way to bolster their applications. And, Annabeth had a lot more freetime now that the football season was over and she wasn’t cheering. Freetime meant stressing over Piper, and Percy, and her future, and Frederick. The simple solution was to kill any freetime she could.

Somehow, the lady who organized the senior living center’s activities decided that Will and Annabeth were adequately qualified to run a beginner’s Zumba course. That’s how they ended up overseeing a bunch of elderly women in baggy clothes as they attempted to follow along with Will’s high knees and grapevines.

“Anyway,” Will said more quietly to Annabeth as they guided the class. “Whatever your dad told his colleagues totally worked. I have a video call with the Dean of Admissions at Johns Hopkins later this week.”

Annabeth smiles, “Oh perfect. I’m glad my dad was good for something, at least this once.”

Will chuckles, “Yeah, my mom is freaking out. She keeps rearranging the furniture in our house, like that’s going to influence whether or not I get in. I’m pretty sure she wants to erect a statue in honor of your dad, too.”

“God, no,” she shakes her head. “The last thing Frederick Chase needs is a statue fueling his ego.”

“I don’t think marble could capture his domineering ignorance,” he tacks on. Annabeth can’t help but guffaw, earning a few glares from some of the old ladies.

“Sorry,” Annabeth apologies to them. “Let’s transition to some squats!”

Will claps in encouragement, “Yeah, I wanna see you drop it!”

“Pervert,” a particularly senile lady in the back row shouts back.

“You wish, Marge,” Will points at her with a wink. “Now c’mon, get those booties low! Don’t stop till your hip replacements make you!”

There was a mix of laughs and groans from their group, which was common for their sessions. Annabeth let the song they were dancing to finish before letting the group dismiss for the day, they had already gone a few minutes past their normal time and based on the look on Marge’s face, she was fed up.

Will waved all the attendees goodbye as they trudged out the door, a few were moaning about their sore muscles but he was unphased.

“That means you did something good,” he smiles brightly at them. “At this rate, you all will make it to 90!”

“I’m 92,” one of them groans as she walks by.

Will, without a beat, replies, “Here’s to 95, then. Alright, goodbye.”

He shuts the door, leaving just the two of them in the senior center’s miscellaneous room. It smelt of old perfume and sweat, but Annabeth has gotten used to the dinginess.

She sprawls out on the wooden floor, soaking in how cool it was in comparison to the hot room. The whole building was kept at high temperatures, so while the workouts were never that hard for her with her cheer experience, she always ended up sweating.

Will joins her on the ground, but leans against the wall and takes a few sips of his water. He’s wearing a tight tank top that is beaded with sweat. He laughs dryly.

“One of these days,” he says darkly, “Marge is going to fall in the middle of a step ball change - and I will laugh.”

Annabeth chuckles but pretends to be surprised, “Will, that’s twisted.”

“What’s twisted is how bitchy she is,” he insisted with an exaggerated frustration. “We didn’t force her to sign up for this class.”

“No but if I had two fake knees, I probably wouldn’t enjoy us either,” she answers simply.

“I guess,” he mumbles half-heartedly. His blonde hair is sticking to his forehead, and Annabeth wonders if her flyaways are doing the same.

“One day we should prank them with some P90x or something,” he muses.

“Yeah,” she shrugs, mindlessly.

A few moments of silence pass between the two. She enjoys the silence, after the complaining grandmas and pumping music it was nice to take a pause.

“Okay,” Will clears his throat and sits so he's criss-cross applesauce. “What’s on your mind?”

Annabeth raises an eyebrow, staring up at him from her horizontal placement on the floor. “Huh?”

“You’ve been moping around for weeks,” he explains. “We may be relatively new friends, but I can still tell when you're not yourself. Is this about Piper?”

“Am I that transparent?” She sighs, covering her head in her hands.

Will gives her a sympathetic look that makes her want to hide.

“I wouldn’t say transparent,” he begins, “but I think context clues give you away.”

Annabeth sits up so they are on the same level. She shakes her head, “She said she wants - no, needs - some space and that I probably do too. Which is fine. I understand. But it’s been weeks, how much time is ‘space?’. I feel like I upset her and I don’t know what to do.”

He purses his lips, “I understand why that could be hard.”

“Tell me what you really think, William,” she urges, taking his hands to squeeze. “Please. You’re the only person who knows about this. Don’t use any of those vague niceties that you’d use on an over-sharing stranger.”

Will cracks a genuine smile, “Okay. I can do that.”

“Thank you,” Annabeth retracts her hands. They sit facing each other, the rest of the large room empty, and it’s reminiscent of being back in kindergarten in a sharing circle with her closest friends.

“It obviously sucks that you guys are in such a gray area,” he starts cautiously, looking at her through his eyelashes, “and I understand how frustrating that can be. But, if you had done something wrong I doubt she would’ve said that. I think she would’ve been more straightforward if she never wanted to talk or see you again.”

A wave of relief flushes over Annabeth. She nods, semi-enthusiastically. “Okay, good.”

“That said, if you don’t give her the space she’s requesting, I think that reflects poorly on you,” he adds.

The relief immediately washes away like waves at low tide. She’s replaying the scene at Miss Trinity’s music shop over and over again in her mind. When she arrived, she was so stunned to see Piper playing the piano for a crowd that she almost forgot why she had gone there. The music was lively and uplifting, it had sucked Annabeth right in and erased any reservations she had about showing up unannounced. Watching Piper on the piano, mouthing the words she knew and moving to the music so freely - Annabeth yearned to feel that inhibitionless.

Regardless, that was clearly not giving Piper space.

Will continues, “The kinda good news, at least the way I see it, is I think she’s right about you needing space, too. You have a lot to think about and that might be a good distraction in the meantime.”

Annabeth weighs over his words, forcefully putting the music shop out of her mind.

“Like what?” She wonders aloud.

Will throws his hands up, “No offense, what don’t you have to think about?”

Annabeth can’t help but chuckle at his cartoonish actions. He ignores her and plows through with his advice.

“You clearly like Piper, but you’re dating Percy. You can’t have the best of both worlds here, well…unless they both become incredibly open and okay with some things…you likely have a big decision to make, I guess is what I’m trying to say. And on top of that, you have to figure out what it is you want from Piper, too.”

Will’s words are followed by silence. They stare at each other for a little bit. Annabeth can admit that she didn’t like what he said, in fact she was scared of it. He was right, of course. The truth had been lingering in the back of her mind for weeks and she just didn’t want to face the light.

“I guess what I’m trying to say,” Will summarizes, “is that Piper did you a favor by asking for space.”

She licks her lips, “Yeah…”

The blonde boy leans back onto his elbows, staring at her as she processes everything. He gives her a grim grin, “I think it’s incredibly mature of her, to be honest. You picked a good person to fall in love with.”

Annabeth blushes, wringing her hands together as his advice still repeats itself in her mind.

“The first guy I thought I loved?” Will whistles through his teeth, “He was a piece of work, I should tell you about it sometime. I still have his guinea pig, actually.”

Will’s phone suddenly starts ringing with some sort of alarm. He picks it up and rolls his eyes. “Sorry, I have to go. I have to pick my mom up from work, her car is in the shop.”

“What?” Annabeth teases, half-heartedly. “You’re going to leave me on the guinea pig cliff-hanger?”

He smirks down at her as he gets to his feet, “You’ll just have to use your imagination, I guess.”

She laughs, “Oh, I can’t wait to get creative.”

As he’s walking out the door, Will shoots her a warning, but playful, look. It makes Annabeth chuckle some more as she begins to pack up her own things and leave.

-*-*-*-

Over the forced quiet of Annabeth’s headphones, a loud knocking pulls her away from her homework. She had started it when she got home, setting up shop at the kitchen island and putting on headphones so the rest of her family wouldn't disturb her. Normally she would bunker down in her room but she had spent so many days stuck away in there recently she was growing tired of the same environment, and thought perhaps it would soothe her parents’ worries about her. Of course, they hardly noticed.

She sucks in a breath and takes off her headphones, just in time to hear the knock repeat itself. The rest of her family was in the living room and made no effort to acknowledge the guest at the door.

Begrudgingly, she marches into the foyer and opens the door.

“Hey,” Piper greets her from the front step, shifting awkwardly the minute they were facing each other.

Annabeth falters, gripping onto the wooden door for support. She attempts to hide her surprise, but she’s sure her agape mouth and wide eyes were already noticed.

“Uh, hi,” she stutters. “W-what are you doing here? You wanted space.”

Piper’s expression softens. She chews on her lip shyly, “I did. But, um, I think I figured some things out.”

“You have?” She asks hopefully. Immediately, the other girl nods.

Annabeth steps out of her house, cautiously closing the door behind her. The rest of her family were in the living room, Frederick forcing them to do a semi-frequent family bonding activity of watching Jeopardy. In reality, he wants to flaunt his intelligence and challenge the boys while Sheila keeps score. Annabeth used to join in, until her father got progressively more upset as she would beat him to some answers and actually give him a run for his money.

While Piper being here was a pleasant surprise, the last thing she needed was to get scolded for interrupting their competition. Frederick hated anything that disturbed his peace.

“What exactly have you figured out?” Annabeth wonders. She has to keep the hope bubbling up within her in check.

For a moment, Piper glances down at her shifting feet. It feels like hours before her ever-changing eyes look back up and she begins to talk.

“I think that I like you. And that wherever this goes, it’s going to be challenging,” she begins, her words as quiet as a secret.

Annabeth tucks her hands in her pockets to keep from shaking.

“Challenging for the both of us,” Piper continues. “I’ve said it before, but you have a lot to figure out. And we’re in different places, so I will have to be patient - which can be hard.”

“Yeah,” Annabeth nods. “Listen if you can cut to the chase, if - “

“ - Let me finish,” Piper cuts her off with a knowing look.

“Sorry, er, go ahead.”

The Girl Next Door sucks in a breath, “It’s going to be weird in the beginning, but if you’re down to try, I think it will be worth it. I think you’re worth it.”

Annabeth’s heart gets caught in her throat. She blinks in rapid succession. “Come again?” She asks.

Piper laughs lovingly, “You’re worth it, Annabeth Chase. I swear to God, you’re worth it.”

The words are too good to be true, simple as that. Her mind struggles to compute after weeks of silence, Piper could show up out of the blue with such heartfelt words.

“Are you sure?” Annabeth doubts, raising her eyebrow skeptically. She rushes through her response. “I feel bad asking for your patience when I don’t know where this is going to go. This is all really nice, but you can change your mind. I will understand.”

Piper rolls her eyes. Her hand reaches out and grabs Annabeth’s, tugging her closer. The way Piper looks at her, so soft and tender, makes all the worries that were crowding Annabeth’s mind melt away.

“Shut up,” she mutters, “and please kiss me?”

Annabeth doesn’t waste a minute. For the first time, the girl she loves is telling her what she wants and she’s going to listen.

Unlike their other kisses, this isn’t slow and sweet. It’s rushed but satisfying, and makes Annabeth feel hazy. Her hands cup Piper’s cheeks - which are flushed red and are hot to the touch. Her lips are just as soft as she remembered and taste strongly of Burt’s Bees, making Annabeth’s own lips burn pleasantly.

“What the hell is going on here?” The harsh voice of Frederick Chase interrupts. He’s looming down at them from the doorway.

-*-*-*-

Annabeth wakes with a startle. Her clammy skin is coated in a cold sweat, her mind foggy. She’s alone in her bedroom, all the blankets pooled in a pile on the floor. Her hair dangles in wet locks in front of her face.

Outside, a car is honking and her phone is buzzing on the nightstand. That must’ve been what had woken her up.

It was a dream. Her father wasn’t red in the face from yelling and Piper wasn’t at her doorstep demanding a kiss. It was all fake. An odd amalgamation of relief and disappointment makes her stomach queasy.

That’s what she gets for taking a nap.

She rubs the sleep out of her eyes. Her hand comes away wet, she must’ve been crying at some point. Her phone continues to vibrate, Percy’s face is on the screen.

“Oh shit,” she mumbles, picking the phone up. She presses the green button.

“Hey,” Percy greets with a soothing tone. “I’ve been outside for like ten minutes. I’d come inside but…your dad.”

Annabeth sighs, “Yeah, sorry. I fell asleep. I have to change, I’ll be down soon.”

“Okay,” he says, surprisingly chipper.

She rolls out of bed, half-heartedly throwing her blankets back onto the mattress. Quickly, she washes her face and redoes her hair in order to seem less sweaty. It’s moderately successful, her face is still pale with bloodshot eyes but maybe Percy wouldn’t notice. She changes into a hoodie and shorts. He never told her what he had planned, just that he was going to pick her up after volunteering so hopefully a hoodie was okay. Lastly, on her way out, she pops a few aspirin to avoid the budding headache she can feel behind her temples.

Percy was waiting in his car, all the windows rolled down and his music blaring. As she shuts the door behind her, he sticks his head out the window like a dog. A wide smile decorates his face and although sunglasses covered his eyes, she knew they were just as wide.

“Are you ready?” He exclaims with a chuckle.

Despite how drained she feels, Annabeth can’t help but smile. Percy’s energy has always been infectious.

“I’m ready for my surprise,” she winks, sliding into the passenger seat beside him.

He peels out of the driveway a little too fast, but Annabeth doesn’t complain. The cool air lifts her air out of her face and makes her feel less confined.

“What exactly is my surprise?” She prods, turning down the music so she doesn’t have to yell.

Percy stares straight at the road ahead, “It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you.”

Annabeth turns to face him, fluttering her eyelashes. “Please, will you tell me?” She says, in an exaggerated tone.

“You’re feminine wiles won’t work on me, Wise Girl,” he remarks matter-of-factly. “Besides, it’s not that far away.”

She purses her lips, “Okay, but it better be worth it.”

Percy teasingly cocks his head, his sunglasses falling down his nose so she can see the sparkles in his eyes. “When have I ever let you down?”

A pang radiates through Annabeth’s chest, “No,” she chokes out. Percy had never let her down, not in the slightest. Her nap dream resurfaces and with it comes guilt. He’s too good.

If Percy notices her change in expression, he doesn’t comment on it. He turns his attention back to the street, humming along to the music. Annabeth swallows, focusing back on trying to figure out where he was taking her.

He was right, it only took a few more minutes before he pulled the car over to the side of the road. Annabeth doesn’t recognize where they are, which is rare in their small town. A few other cars are parked near them. A gravel path leads into a thicket of woods, disappearing into nothing but a barely worn trail shaded by all the trees. Percy

turns the ignition off, turning to face Annabeth with a mischievous grin. “Are you ready?” He asks.

She pushes the earlier dream aside and plasters on her own smile. “Yes.”

Percy practically leaps out of the car. Annabeth follows, a little slower and carefully shutting the door behind her. The black-haired boy is already fetching items from the back of the car. He shuts the trunk when she sees him, showing off that he had grabbed a picnic basket and a blanket.

Her heart melts. “We’re having a picnic?”

“Yes, we’re having a picnic,” he confirms like it’s always been obvious. He takes her hand in his own and starts pulling her towards the trail. As they walk, he gestures around them. “Look around us, Beth. It’s almost November, we don’t have many days like these left here.”

Annabeth listens, taking in the nature around them. The trees are still bright oranges, red, and yellows that mark autumn in New York. The gentle breeze pushes fallen leaves across the path and cools the moist air from the rain earlier in the week. Birds chirp all around them and if she really listens, she can hear frogs and squirrels in the distance. It's the perfect fall day and of course, he’s right. Snow will fall shortly and it will be too cold to want to spend time outside, the colors and birds will go away, it will be gloomy. It’ll be good to appreciate it while they can.

They take their time on the walk. Percy’s hand is soft on Annabeth’s, occasionally he runs a thumb over her knuckles and it sends goosebumps up her arm. They make comfortable small talk, exchanging stories from school that week or pointing especially stunning trees and plants to one another. Annabeth has never felt quite at home like she does with Percy.

The further they go into the woods, the more different paths and trails begin to branch off the main pathway. Percy leads her down a few of those; never once seeming lost or confused, clearly he knows the way well.

He takes her down a path that starts to descend down. The ground starts to get softer beneath her feet and she can see that the trees thin out ahead of them. Percy pulls her to a stop, dropping her hands and setting the supplies on the ground. He turns towards her expectantly.

“Close your eyes,” he instructs in a direct but kind tone.

Annabeth tries, with no success, to peek behind him and see what he’s hiding. He simply steps into her vision.

“Close your eyes,” he repeats, “or you’ll ruin it.”

Sighing, she obeys. A few seconds later, she hears some shuffling as Percy, presumably, gathers the items he set on the ground. A gentle hand hovers on the small of her back, sending chills up her spine. Percy notices and chuckles, a deep rumble that sounds very close to her ear. Another hand grips onto her elbow as he begins to walk her forward.

They stumble together for a few feet. Although the ground is uneven and slightly rocky, Percy’s guidance is clear and easy to understand. He doesn’t have to speak, he simply leans more one way or another and she follows. Their unspoken communication is a stark reminder of why she loves Percy so much. They get each other, in a way that she hasn’t felt with anyone else.

Suddenly, he brings her to a stop. As promised, she still has her eyes shut but her other senses are working over time. The air has gotten moist and the croaking of frogs has intensified, she can hear the gentle lapping of water and smell the faint mugginess of fresh water.

“Okay,” Percy’s voice breaks up the sounds of nature. “Open your eyes!”

Annabeth’s eyelids snap open, taking in the environment around her. She was right, they were standing in front of a large pond surrounded by the woods they had been navigating their way through. Percy is standing proudly with his arms spread wide and a permanent beam on his face.

A smile breaks out onto her own lips as she investigates further. A small dock stretches a few feet into the water, the lazy current making the noises she heard as it hits against the moist wood. The sun is high in the sky, beating down and warming up the otherwise crisp day. There isn’t much of a shoreline, more of a marsh, with cattails and high grass sinking into the silt bed. If she squints she can see minnows and tadpoles darting below the orange leaves that float on the water’s surface. Dragonflies buzz from one plant to another, adding to the chorus of cicadas, bees, and other bugs that sing around them. The pond water itself is coated in leaves, lily pads and splotches of green algae. It sparkles under the sun, and although Annabeth is sure the water’s cold, she’s tempted to jump in - or at least dip her toes off the edge of the dock.

It’s a little piece of paradise. If she closes her eyes again, she would never guess they were in the town she knew. In a world so hectic and bustling, this small watering hole is untouched. It’s rare.

“What do you think?” Percy questions, his eyebrows furrowed together.

Annabeth hurries over and pulls him into a hug, planting a big kiss on his lips. He laughs, holding her close.
“I’m glad you like it,” he giggles.

“Like it?” She smiles, “I love it.”

She wanted to say that his ability to know what she needs and when is a comfort unlike any other. With all that has been weighing on her mind, taking a moment to stop and relax near a soothing pond with a person she feels no need to worry over is a gift. A gift that Percy knew she needed, despite not hearing a word about most of her troubles. She could shower him with praise.

But she can’t seem to make the words leave her throat. Instead, she takes the extended time in his arms and allows herself to take refuge.

Percy is the first to pull away, but based on the worried look he shoots down at her, he knew what she wanted to say.

He gestures to the blanket and picnic basket. “Let me set up our lunch,” he grins.

Annabeth nods, “What can I help with?”

“Nothing,” he shakes his head with a playful roll of his eyes. “It won’t take long. You can, I don’t know, commune with the nature spirits or something.”

“Oh yeah,” she nods, going along with his sarcasm. “I’ll make sure to say hi.”

Percy laughs, grabbing his supplies and making his way over to the dock. He carefully spreads out the blanket he brought and begins to unpack whatever food items were in the basket.

Annabeth putters around while he does so. She tries to catch some frogs, but they’re too quick for her, she’s still recovering from her nap after all. In a thicket of bushes closer to the trail, she finds a small patch of wildflowers and begins weaving a crown. For a while they are silent, Percy working on their lunch and Annabeth doing her best to remember how to twist the flower stems together without damaging the petals.

Somehow, this tiny act resurfaces a memory she hadn’t thought about in years. It’s hazy, but she can see Dove McLean’s garden; the rose bushes she had carefully tended to in her spare time and the zinnias that she used to let Piper sell like lemonade. The two young girls would sit at their stand, made of a foldout table and lawn chairs with a homemade sign. One of them would arrange small bouquets, tying them together with rubber bands while the other made flower crowns to sell. They were only able to do this a handful of times before Dove passed away rather suddenly.

The zinnias in the back garden eventually died, though the rose bushes had mysteriously remained. Maybe Tristan paid someone to take care of those.
“I think we’re ready over here!” Percy declared suddenly.

Annabeth snaps back into reality. She feels her cheek blush red, simultaneously her stomach sinks with guilt. She chastises herself - no one can read thoughts. She hasn’t done anything wrong for remembering something.

No, thoughts aren’t inherently bad. Actions can be, though. Her lips suddenly feel very hot.

“I think you’re going to be impressed with my culinary skills,” Percy is saying. Annabeth shakes out her thoughts. She puts a smile back on and gets to her feet.

Percy has made the pond’s dock into a little lunch buffet. He’s thought of everything, from finger sandwiches and quiches to a platter of fresh fruits and veggies. Freshly baked cookies are carefully tucked in a cloth napkin to keep them warm.

“Percy,” she sighs in appreciation, “you didn’t have to do all this.”

The black-haired boy is lounging next to his spread, a lopsided smirk frozen on his lips. “I know, but I wanted to. I’m selfish like that.”

Annabeth shakes her head, sitting across from him on the blanket. “Totally, you’re the most selfish person I know.”

“Would you like me to walk through your dining options today, ma’dam?” He teases, using his hand to gesture to their meal like Vanna White.

“Sure,” she allows.

He sits up, grabbing a cold, sweating bottle of lemonade and displaying it for her like a fancy waiter would at a Michelin star restaurant.

“Today we’re offering a 2023 pink lemonade, imported from…Florida, maybe. It’s the finest that Minute Maid has to offer,” he boasts. “You should taste notes of lemons and…pink.”

Annnabeth laughs, “I don’t think you can import something from within the same country.”

Percy blushes slightly, “Okay, well, enjoy your meal.”

“I will,” she nods gratefully. “I made you something, too.”

“Oh?” He questions.

From behind her back, Annabeth pulls out the flower crown she had hastily made. Percy’s eyes widen, excitement filling them like it’s Christmas morning. She leans forward, gently placing the crown on his head. The purple, blue and white flowers stick out on his dark head of hair.

“It’s a little last minute,” she admits, “I literally made it five minutes ago, but I think it will look nice.”

Immediately, Percy pulls out his phone to admire his new accessory. He laughs at the sight and adjusts it ever-so slightly, but keeps it. He winks at her, “I love it. But you’re missing something.”

Annabeth raises an eyebrow, “What’s that?”

He smirks, gently plucking one of the flowers out of the crown. How he managed to do so without ruining the rest of her work, she wasn’t sure. He then reaches his hand forward and slips the small, purple flower behind her ear.

“There,” he says proudly. “Now we match.”

This time, it’s Annabeth who takes out her phone. She snaps a quick photo of Percy, in which he’s smiling so brightly that his eyes are squinted shut and the tip of his tongue is poking through his teeth. The sun is his natural spotlight. While she’s at it, she takes a few pictures of the food spread and the pond.

“It’s so pretty here,” she comments. “I didn’t know this place existed.”

Percy watches her as she admires the landscape. “Yeah, not many people do. The trails aren’t marked anymore and for a while it was pretty overgrown.”

Annabeth puts her phone away. She starts piling a small plate up with food, but her attention remains on Percy. “How did you find it, then?”

For a split second, Percy’s happy facade diminishes. His eyes flicker away, and when they return to look at Annabeth, it’s like the momentary sadness had never taken over. He shrugs.

“My dad used to take me here,” he explains in a delicate manner. “Back when he would still visit, we would fish here or ice skate, in the winter.”

Annabeth feels her heart drop. She knew what it was like to be forgotten, discarded like an unwanted surprise and never to be seen again. At least Annabeth hardly remembered her mother; nothing but a bunch of vague memories from her earliest days and a nondescript voice. Percy had the opposite.

He never gave her the whole story. All Annabeth knew she had pieced together from the few throw-away things he had told her. Sally had met his father while living in the city, she got pregnant and didn’t want to raise a kid in NYC. His father didn’t want to raise a kid, period. She moved out to their small town to raise Percy on her own. As a result, he took fatherhood to be unannounced weekend visits or random phone calls - hardly ever on important dates, like Percy’s birthday.

Annabeth felt conflicted about her mother. Whenever she thinks about Percy’s own parental issues, a part of her is jealous. It’s ridiculous to want that pain, but at least he knew what his father looked like. At least he had some good memories to hold onto or an understanding of what they had in common. She knows Percy must feel the same way. Instead of having a father who only deigned to be a parent when he felt like pretending, instead of wondering what he could do differently to earn his father’s attention, he could live his life in the simple arrogance of never-knowing.

Hearing this memory makes Annabeth increasingly appreciative of this treat. All of the work and effort he put into the food alone was generous, but to say that he trusts her with the beauty and the hurt that this pond represented was a larger representation of love.

“Thank you for sharing this with me,” she responds.

Percy gives her a sad grin, “There’s no one I would rather share it with, Beth. I love you.”

Annabeth bites her lip, thinking back to the dream she had earlier. She had nearly forgotten the emotional workout her nap had decided to put her through.

A moment of confusion flashes onto Percy’s face. Before he can begin to question it, Annabeth cocks her head, “I love you, too, Seaweed Brain.”

His smile returns without hesitation, and his focus shifts to the food in front of them. He plucks a cookie out of the pile.

“Okay, that’s enough emotional shit,” he chuckles. “The day is perfect and this food isn’t going to eat itself.”

Annabeth does her best to match his energy and begins munching on a strawberry. The day is perfect, Percy is perfect, and yet the corners of her mind keep spreading doubt. Her heart is hammering, there’s still so much going on.

She’s in deep and her mind can’t conjure up a scenario where no one ends up hurt. She almost wants to laugh at how sickly comical it all is. Annabeth has to run yet another cost-benefit analysis. Only this time instead of deciding how her actions will reflect on her, she’s deciding who she hurts.

Dream Piper’s voice echoes in her mind. “You’re worth it,” she had said.

Is she?

Chapter Text

“Pass me the compost, will you, Pipes?” Tristan’s voice calls from behind her.

Piper hardly hears him. She’s staring across their yard to the currently empty Chase household. All the lights are off without a single car in the driveway. It’s nothing unusual for a Sunday afternoon. Still, she can’t help but wonder where Annabeth is and how she is feeling. Maybe Piper was too harsh about everything, that thought seemed to be following her like a shadow ever since their encounter at the music store.

“Piper?” Tristan repeats.

A feeling as cold as ice pulls her out of her mind and she returns to her task. She’s kneeling on the cold ground a few feet away from her father, gardening gloves adorning her hands and pruning shears frozen in her grasp. A couple of dead roses are piled onto the stiff grass. Her father has a similar pair of gloves but has dirt up to his elbows and is attempting to pack extra fertilizer into the base of their rose bushes.

She shakes her head, pushing the container of compost over to her father’s side. “Oh, sorry, here.”

Tristan looks over at her. Despite the growing cold, he’s still only in a t-shirt and holey blue jeans. His fire engine’s logo is worn on the old baseball cap he is wearing and, just like the rest of him, is coated in dirt. How he manages to get so dirty, she’s never understood. When she pictures her dad, this is how she wants to remember him - giving her a crooked smile despite being smelly and dirty while tending to her mother’s beloved rose bushes.

“Something on your mind, kiddo?” He questions as he grabs a handful of the compost.

Piper shakes her head, “Not really, just tired. I haven’t been sleeping much.”

And as much as that wasn’t the reason she was distracted, it’s still true. She hasn’t gotten a full night’s sleep in at least a week. Every time she manages to close her eyes, she’s woken up by nothing. No dreams, no thoughts, she’s transported from one darkness only to be met with the equal darkness of her room. It’s almost more infuriating than if she was having nightmares, at least then she could get to the bottom of the issue. At least then, she was still getting some sleep.

Tristan continues packing the fertilizer into the ground, “Have you been going on your phone before bed? That blue light isn’t good for a bedtime routine.”

Piper rolls her eyes, “Not really. I don’t think that’s the issue.”

He pauses, his smile fading slightly. “Well, what do you think it is?”

She sucks in a breath, trying to decide how best to approach the question.

“Uh, I don’t know,” she answers noncommittally. “Probably the stress of Juilliard, or something.”

Tristan nods, “Have you talked to Trinity about that at all?”

“Kind of,” she shrugs. “Any time I bring it up, all she says is she knows I’ll get in. I don’t know how familiar she is with their application process though. I’m her first student to apply. They only take like 150 people in my program.”

Again, it’s really only a white lie. Juilliard is a shadow that follows her around. It’s not always on the surface, but it’s always contributing to her stress from within. Her application deadline of December is quickly approaching - with the auditions taking place in February. She’s not even close to mastering any of the dozens of works required. Life is going to get more hectic from here on out, she’s going to need sleep.

Annabeth is a distraction at a time in her life she can’t afford to be.

Tristan dusts off his gloves, leaning back on the heels of his work boots. “You’re not going through this alone, Pipes. Anything you need, you have a lot of people willing to lend a hand. I already took off the audition dates so we can go into the city together.”

“Thanks,” she responds sheepishly.

“Of course,” he earnestly remarks. “And you know how Trinity is. She goes with the flow, that girl doesn’t have a single ounce of worry in her body - but she’s not someone who lies. She’s still giving you feedback on your rehearsals, right?”

Piper nods, “Yeah, she does.”

“Good, then there’s not much else you can do but keep practicing, right?”

“Yeah…”

Tristan winks at her, “And you’ve been doing it your whole life.”

“I know,” Piper begins pruning the roses again, desperate to get away from his proud gaze. “I’m just worried. I’m working so hard on the technical side of it so I’m ready for the audition, I don’t want to get rejected because of something small I missed on my application.”

He makes a noise that sounds understanding, “That’s what the school can help you with. There’s gotta be a counselor at Goode who can help you manage all that.”

Piper thinks of Coach Hedge and feels something sink within her. That man is supportive in his own way, she supposes, but doubts that he will know much about what makes a good Juilliard application. Afterall, he only started dedicating himself to that part of his job a few weeks ago. And with her flakiness with the Prom Committee recently, staying away from him seems like the better option. But there is someone…

“Thanks,” Piper responds, snipping off a dead rose.

“Seems like a bad time to ask…” Tristan begins suddenly, his voice raising an octave.

Wondering what might come next, a small grin found its way back onto Piper’s lips. “Yeah?”

Her father gets to his feet, pulling off his gloves and dusting off his knees. He puts his hands on his hips, squinting down at her.

“Are you able to volunteer at the station’s pancake dinner?”

Piper winces. She’s been volunteering at the pancake fundraiser with her father since she could carry a plate and she normally enjoyed herself there. His fellow firefighters were a second home to them, especially after Dove passed away - but there’s no way she would be able to find the time this year.

“When is it?” She wonders.

Tristan licks his lips, “Next Monday.”

“I’ll see,” she tells him. “But Mondays are slow at the store so I usually get more time with Trinity for rehearsal.”

He waves her off half-heartedly, “No problem, don’t worry about it. Maybe you guys can swing by after? There’s always some cakes left.”

“Definitely,” Piper promises. “I’ll make sure Hazel and Leo show up, too.”

As their finishing up, Tristan begins packing all their gardening supplies in the wheelbarrow to bring back to the garage. Piper quickly starts to get the rest of the dead roses that she should’ve been pruning the whole time.

“I remember when you were just a kid and could barely walk without spilling the syrup,” he muses as he works. “You used to get us so many extra donations.”

Piper smiles fondly, “Except that one year I dumped orange juice all over the mayor.”

“I forgot about that!” He laughs. “His face was priceless. Your mom tried to clean it up but ended up patting his crotch, god she was so embarrassed. Oh well, he cut our funding that year, so he deserved it.”

Piper smirks, “Tiny me was so badass for that.”

Tristan grabs the handles of the wheelbarrow and begins pushing it to the garage, “You still are, Pipes.”

He marches off with all the tools, leaving a warm feeling in Piper’s stomach. She finishes her clipping, gathering her pile of shriveled red roses in her gloved hands and bringing them to the trash.

*-*-*-

Piper approaches Goode High School early the next morning with unclear intentions. In her time avoiding Annabeth, school was surprisingly the easiest. They didn’t have very many of the same classes, no shared friends, and completely different schedules. The few times they passed each other in the hallway weren’t hard either, Annabeth was normally surrounded by a small posse of girls and Piper tended to blend seamlessly in with the hallway traffic anyway.

She shoulders her backpack higher as Hazel bounds over to her from the driver’s seat.

“Thanks for the ride, Haze,” Piper says with a smile as they begin to walk towards the front doors. They’re only fifteen minutes earlier than usual, but the student parking lot is practically barren.

Hazel bumps her with her hip, “A little extra Piper time is always welcomed.”

Piper feign’s vomiting at her friend’s saccharine words, but secretly finds pleasure in their sweetness.

“Leo thinks you’re becoming a recluse,” Hazel confesses, holding the wide door open for them.

“I’ve been busy,” Piper admits. She wants to add on that filling her time at the music shop, slaving away over her flute is the one sure distraction she has from both of the main stressors in her life, but she doesn’t.

“I know, that’s what I told him,” Hazel agrees. “But he says at some point your flute is going to meld to your lips and then we’ll never get to see you. He was high when he said that, if you couldn’t tell. I think he just misses you.”

Piper smirks. “I saw a movie with you guys last week, remember? It’s not like I’ve gone to fight in the war.”

“That’s what I said!” She exclaimed with a fit of laughter. “I think he feels abandoned. I’ve been spending more time with Frank.”

“Oh,” Piper waggles her eyebrows. “Are those wedding bells I hear?”

“Shut up.”

They dissolve into a fit of giggles like little girls at recess, their voices echoing down the empty hallway. Nothing they said is that funny but she gets lost in the sound. Piper feels a twinge of bittersweet nostalgia for their early high school years, back when they would spend their study halls gossiping about which teachers were a little too flirty together and whose house they would crash at all weekend.

Leo is right. In comparison, she has become a recluse.

“We should have a sleepover, soon,” Piper suggests. “Like we used to.”

“Do you mean at your house when your dad is working the whole weekend and we make a giant blanket fort in front of the TV and give ourselves dump makeovers and stalk people online?” Hazel questions hopefully.

“Yes exactly,” she confirms. “We will invite Leo, though. Also this time we can get drunk.”

“Oh twist my arm,” the other girl laughs. “Tell us when, and we’ll be there. What else does Leo have to do? Pine after Calypso?”

“Hell, she can come too,” Piper throws out. Immediately, she regrets pitching that idea. Cal is nice, but practically a stranger.

Hazel shakes her head, “Please, no. Leo will act all macho and gross all weekend.”

“Or worse,” she adds on, “they fuck in my bedroom.”

“Ew, Piper,” Hazel practically goes pale. She squeezes her eyes shut and shakes her head. “I don’t need that image in my head. He’s basically our brother.”

Piper cackles at her friend’s reaction. “No one made you imagine it, you can only blame your own little twisted brain.”

They come to a stop outside of the classroom Piper had been searching for. She pulls Hazel to a stop. Hazel decides instead of waiting outside, they’ll meet up outside of the library when Piper is finished. As she watches her friend walk away, Piper swears she can still see her trying to shake the mental image of Leo out of her mind.

Piper knocks gently on the side of the cracked open door.

“Come in!” A voice replies quickly.

She enters, practically freezing in her steps as she finds Percy lounging at one of the seats. He has his feet propped up on the student desk, leaning back in the metal chair. A tupperware bowl of food rests against his chest as he uses his free hand to shovel spoonfuls into his mouth. His raven hair is wet still, glistening under the fluorescents. He lights up as he sees her.

Goddamnit, Percy Jackson, she thinks.

“Piper!” He greets through a mouthful of whatever he’s eating. “What a pleasant surprise.”

Physically, Piper is watching kick his legs off the desk and set his bowl down in front of him. Mentally, she’s thinking of how it felt to kiss his girlfriend. Shame makes her neck grow hot.

“Um,” she stammers. “What are you doing?”

With a lolly-gagging smile, Percy nods to his food. “Eating some oatmeal - the kind with dinosaur eggs in it.”

“Dinosaur eggs?”

“Yeah, the eggs hatch when you heat them up,” he replies proudly. “We got them for Estelle but it makes breakfast more fun.”

“Oh,” Piper blanks. Her mind is short-circuiting and refusing to muster up any sense of how to conduct a normal conversation without screaming ‘I kissed your girlfriend and I want to do it again.’

Percy eyes her up with a startling amount of concern, but he doesn’t press.

“Why are you here?” He wonders simply.

She chews on her lip, “I’m looking for Mr. Blofis. I was hoping to get his help with some applications and their essays.”

“Sick. Juilliard, right?” When he sees Piper’s look of shock, he shrugs it off nonchalantly. “Annabeth told me.”

At the mention of that name, her stomach does a summersault. She starts shuffling back towards the door, “Yeah, Juilliard. Um, this was a mistake. I’ll talk to Coach Hedge or something.”

Percy scoffs, “Wait, Paul will be back soon. He’s just making some copies.”

She stalls.

“And if you’re trying to avoid me,” he teases, “talking to Coach Hedge would also be a mistake.”

A beat passes. Piper stays, marching into the classroom and taking a seat at one of the desks. She makes sure to keep a few in between them.

Percy smirks, “So…”

“So?” She drawls back, unamused.

His eyebrow quirks up, “Are you going to tell me why you’re avoiding me?”

“I’m not,” she argues. It’s only a half-truth.

“You leapt out of your skin when you saw me here,” he insists. “And almost immediately tried to leave, but not after giving me sad, one-word responses. What’s up? I thought we were friends.”

There's that word he likes to throw around so easily. 'Friends.' Becoming a friend of Percy's might be a remarkably easy feat if Piper qualifies. She hasn't exactly been loyal, supportive, or even that kind to him. Perhaps that says a lot more about her than it does him...

She certainly doesn't deserve his friendship. After all, he's the type of person to enjoy fake dinosaurs in oatmeal that is clearly meant for three year olds and Piper...well, she apparently is the type of person to get irrationally annoyed with him and obsess over his girlfriend.

She raises her eyebrows at him. “Friends? We’ve had like, three conversations and after one of those - “ She falters, swallowing the lump in her throat before she continues. “Well, Annabeth didn’t like it.”

“So you’re avoiding me because of Annabeth?”

“No,” she denies, a little too quickly.

Percy blinks, his mind whirring, “But you’re avoiding Annabeth?”

“Something like that. And you guys are attached at the hip, so…”

“Not so much lately,” he murmurs under his breath.

He says it so quietly, Piper is surprised she heard it. A fountain of hope springs open in her chest. She pushes that aside as quickly as it came, she probably misheard him.

And if there were any animosity growing between the couple, Piper would be to blame. It’s not exactly a good sign when one half of the relationship is locking lips with others. Guilt permanently squashes her hope fountain. A rose-colored blush heats up her cheeks. She prays Percy doesn't notice anything.

Percy shakes his head in disbelief, “You guys are making this way more difficult than it needs to be. When are you going to just kiss and make up? You clearly care about each other.”

Piper chokes, breaking into a coughing fit. It feels as though a meatball sub has been rammed down her throat. Her mind is drowning. Why did he have to use that phrase specifically? She struggles to catch her breath. Percy leans forward, offering her a bottle of water he had hidden somewhere, his eyebrows knit together with concern.

Struggling not to roll her eyes, she accepts the water and drinks it carefully. Her choking fit passes.

“Are you okay?” He wonders, “What happened?”

Piper hands the water back over to him. “Thanks, uh, I think…I think I just choked on my own spit - or, er, something.”

The truth, her melodramatic thoughts argue.

He doesn’t question her excuse, or maybe he doesn’t want too. Instead, he chews on his bottom lip, as if debating what to do next.

"I guess I just don't see the harm in, like, taking it step by step," he suggests. "Do small things together in public spaces, like for the Prom Committee or something; work your way up to friendship."

Piper feels the words wash over her like a cold bath. And she hates to admit after the hell that they're currently putting him through, but Percy Jackson could have a point. She opens her mouth to respond, but it's not sure what to say. The stubborn side of her doesn't want to give him the satisfaction of being right, and her overwhelmed mind is saying she doesn't have to listen to him either - she has enough on her plate. Taking his advice could only lead to more guilt, tension, and worries for her. And honestly? She isn't sure how much she can take.

“Percy, if you made a mess in my microwave again - “ A voice cuts through her thoughts. Paul Blofis has returned. He pauses when he sees Piper. “Oh, we have a guest. I haven’t had you in class before, have I?”

Piper shakes her head, “No, I wasn’t in any of the advanced classes.”

“This is Piper McLean, my friend,” Percy introduces. His startling green eyes find her momentarily when he says ‘friend,’ as if to emphasize on his earlier point. “And no, I didn’t make a mess in the microwave.”

“Nice to meet you, Piper,” Mr. Blofis smiles. He takes a seat behind his desk and slides his copies into one of the drawers.

“You too,” she replies. “I was actually hoping you could help me with something, if it’s not too much of a hassle.”

Percy gets to his feet, collecting his things and looking between the others. “I’ll let you guys have your privacy.”

Piper isn’t sure why he made a bigger deal out of it than it actually is, she’s just asking for an editor essentially. But the boy makes his way out the door with a friendly wave, leaving her alone.

“What can I help you with?” Mr. Blofis questions.

“I’m applying to Juilliard in the next couple months,” she begins.

The teacher smiles with an impressed glint in his eyes, “Wow, that’s a prestigious school.”

“Thank you,” Piper continues. “My flute and piano instructor believes I have a really good shot at getting in. We’ve been practicing my audition pieces for a while now.”

“Amazing, I hope you get in. I don’t think Goode High has ever had someone apply. You would be the first, as far as I know,” Mr. Blofis grins. He then cocks his head at her. “Where do I come in? I can hold my own with a guitar but I’m afraid that won’t be of any help.”

Piper chuckles lightly. “I think I have the audition part under control, hopefully. But the rest of the application process is a bit confusing, and I was hoping you could help me - I don’t know - organize myself? And maybe help with my essay?”

“Oh,” the English teacher looks slightly stunned. “I can definitely help with the essay. The rest seems like something Coach Hedge would be more familiar with.”

“He’s helped with my extracurriculars, but that’s all he’s really interested in doing. My instructor also isn’t familiar with the process,” she persists. “I’m worried that I’m so focused on the music that I might slip up with everything else, accidentally.”

Mr. Blofis’s face softens and he hums an agreement. “Okay, I’ll do my research over this weekend and get back to you. I’m sure we’ll get this all figured out. Just continue to work on your audition. I might be able to do some digging.”

A smile finds its way onto Piper’s face. She gets to her feet, stopping in front of the teacher’s desk.

“Thank you so much,” she says earnestly. “I appreciate it. Truly.”

“Of course,” he smiles back at her. “I’ll be in contact.”

Piper gives him a semi-awkward wave that she hopes doesn’t take anything away from her sincerity. She doesn’t dwell on that, instead slipping into the hallway and quickly finding Hazel.

“Hey,” Hazel greets with a happy smile. “How did it go?”

To her own surprise, Piper lets out a relieved sigh. “Everything feels a little more manageable, I think.”

“Good,” her friend says. “I wish I knew how to help.”

Piper cocks her head, “I know one way. We’ll do the sleepover this weekend.”

“This weekend?” Hazel responds with an excited gleam in her eyes. “For real? You have time?”

“I’ll make time,” she promises in return.

As if on a cue, Leo saunters up to him. He’s wearing sunglasses indoors for whatever reason, and baggy shorts that are a mismatch of both color and material. His hair looks hardly brushed with an orange page boy cap stuck haphazardly on top, and he’s carrying a thermos the size of Alaska.

“What’s up, ladies?” He greets, with half the amount of his normal enthusiasm.

Hazel looks at Piper as if asking for permission to tell Leo, but Piper shakes her head. Instead, she eyes Leo up some more.

“Are you okay, dude?” She questions. “You look like you just got steamrolled.”

He waves her off, “Oh, it’s nothing - just tired.”

“Ok,” she nods dubiously. Hazel exchanges an equally concerned glance with her, but both decide not to push it. Piper clears her throat, “Um, what are you doing this weekend? Hazel and I are gonna have a sleepover and you should come.”

Leo stiffens, his eyes widen so they're almost visible over his sunglasses. “And I’m invited?”

“Yes,” Piper confirms.

“Wait, seriously?”

Hazel rolls her eyes, “Duh, that’s why we’re asking if you’re busy.”

His thermos clatters to the ground, spilling dark coffee all over the hallway. Leo doesn’t seem to notice, he’s launching his orange hat into orbit and hooting with excitement. The cap smacks against the tiled ceiling before falling back to the ground.

“I take it you’re coming, then?” Piper chuckles at his display.

Hazel nudges her way out of the spill zone, sending apologetic looks to the throngs of high schoolers attempting to avoid Leo’s over-reaction.

“Obviously,” he agrees once he manages to calm down. He fetches his hat, putting it over his heart dramatically. “It would be an honor to be your male chaperone for the weekend.”

Hazel’s smile diminishes, “Oh, um, that’s not what we were asking - “

“No need to be embarrassed,” Leo teases, shaking his head. “You ladies need some protection on those dark lonely nights, and I’m honored you thought of me.”

“That’s exactly what we need, you’re right,” Piper agrees in a teasing tone. “We were nervous, you know, for security reasons.”

“Of course,” he nods sympathetically.

“And we thought, ‘hmm, who should we invite? Oh, duh, Leo! He’s so…strong and known for his physical prowess’,” she continues. Hazel snickers next to her.

Leo’s smile doesn’t fade. “Okay, you’ve taken the joke too far but you know what? I’m not even upset because I’m really fucking excited. And don’t worry, I will be bringing my Transformers box set.”

Hazel points at him dramatically, “And we will not be watching those pieces of hot garbage but thank you for the offer. It’s incredibly generous.”

“Aw, c’mon,” he whines. “Do I get a say in what happens at this sleepover? Or am I just doing whatever you guys want, like normal?”

Piper grins, “If it’s not broken, don’t fix it.”

“Be grateful you’re getting included in such an esteemed tradition,” Hazel chimes in. “And we all know you can’t fight tradition.”

“That’s an excellent point, Haze,” she smiles widely. “Afterall, Leo, you’re the first and only person we’ve invited to this exclusive event. But if you don’t wanna come…”

Leo frowns, “I see what you’re doing. You’re manipulating me.”

“Maybe we are,” Hazel shrugs.

“What are you going to do about it?” Piper winks playfully.

With a sigh, Leo fastens his cap back on his curly hair. “Fine. Text me the details. I should go clean up my coffee mess.”

“Will do,” Hazel salutes him mockingly.

“I’m making my tacos, though,” he insists, half-heartedly.

This time, the girls shoot him genuine smiles. “We would love that,” Piper permits.

Her stomach is already churning with excitement and anticipation for the weekend ahead. They just need to get through the week ahead…

Chapter Text

Annabeth has formed a new habit.

She thought she’d grown out of obsessing over Piper, kind of. She’s made progress, but that progress was merely a technicality.

She no longer finds herself finding excuses to sneak glances at the house next door or searching the waves of heads in the hallway - at least not as much as she used to in the days following their last in-person encounter. It’s the small blessings that she makes sure to count.

At night, when she can’t sleep, she stops herself from replaying all the memories she recalls so clearly. The midnight minutes grow longer, making it too easy to get caught up in the burn on her lips and flush on her cheeks she can still feel so distinctly.

Those habits have faded, kind of.

Instead, she’s making comparisons. They wrench her insides with guilt, but she pushes those feelings aside under the guise of experimentation.

She watches Percy, sitting on the ground across from her bed. His large hands are struggling to loop beads onto thin, woven strings. His eyebrows are furrowed in concentration, the tip of his tongue poking out of the corner of his pressed lips. Estelle’s birthday is coming up and she wanted friendship bracelets for her entire class instead of a dessert, Percy had promised he would make enough for each kid to get at least two.

And while he slaves away, Annabeth is supposed to be working on contacting local businesses for donations for something or other regarding the school.

But she isn’t, her mind keeps wandering over to Percy. She’s largely been avoiding him for the past week and a half, she’s grown tired of the undercurrent of guilt and shame she feels when they’re around each other for longer than ten minutes. But he’s starting to grow suspicious or worse - concerned; a worried Percy is unshakable.

She distracts herself with the comparisons.

Percy is rough. His hands are calloused from skateboarding and from the summer he tried to learn the drums. The hardline of his jaw is sharp, the point of his nose biting, and the tiny scars on his shoulders a sickening reminder of the early step-fathers that he refuses to talk about.

But he’s tender, his heart woven into the cuffs of his long sleeve shirts. He snuggles into her when they watch movies. His hands will absentmindedly find her curls, twirling them gently while they speak in hushed voices. He’s kind, even to her annoying brothers and despondent father. He cleans up after the parties she hates. And, he’s sitting criss-cross applesauce making friendship bracelets for a bunch of kindergarteners on a Saturday night, yet Annabeth knows there’s no place he’d rather be.

Piper is tough on the outside. She calls Annabeth out on her shit like it’s her favorite pastime. Her words are blunt, dripping with a cruel honesty that is intoxicating. Where Percy might placate with a quiet truth, Piper is unabashedly forthcoming. She projects being uninterested, and hoists a chip on her shoulder the size of a billboard.

But she’s just as soft. She plays the piano with gentle touches and a trained intensity, she likes cinnamon in her apple cider, and she forgives with an open-mind. When it’s just the two of them, her guard drops. Her tone loses all its edginess, her eyes soften, and it makes Annabeth feel like she’s being let behind the curtain - like maybe she isn’t destined for mundanity.

Kissing Piper is contradictory, too. It’s rushed, with hot breaths and an addictive magnitude. It’s an act of rebellion, a middle-finger to the rest of Annabeth’s life. A blend of lip glosses and chapstick, leather and lace. Piper treats Annabeth like one of her instruments, gentle but intense, careful but a craving that has always left Annabeth feeling flustered.

Kissing Percy is intentional. It’s slow and sweet, everything Annabeth has wanted. It builds, and grows more indulgent; like a chocolatey treat on the couch after a stressful Monday. She gets swept up in him like an ocean current, but he leaves her feeling chosen and loved.

They have their similarities, but their differences drive Annabeth insane. Deep down she knows this isn’t fair, this game of back and forth, comparing each of them like they’re toys she can take out and play with whenever she feels like it; Percy for the days she needs to feel cherished, Piper for the days she needs to be fulfilled. But it’s the only way she can stop from counting down the days until Piper decides their embargo is lifted.

“What do you think of this one, Beth?” Percy says out loud, pulling both of them out of their distractions.

Annabeth clears her throat and looks up from whatever she had been staring at while she dissociated. He’s proudly displaying his finished bracelet to her, it’s gold and blue with a few flower shaped beads creating a pattern.

“They’re going to love it, Perce,” she responds warmly.

He beams, “Good, I want to put some words on a few but what word does a kindergartner like? What word does a kindergartener know?”

He continues to speak but Annabeth has once again been distracted. This time, she’s taking in his tan skin and dark hair, his large sea green eyes. She’s seeing the similarities, Piper is tan too. Her hair is brown instead of black, but nearly as dark, with just as expressive eyes. They’re even similar heights…

Annabeth clearly has a type.

This time, a knock echoes through her room and disturbs her from her guilt-ridden thoughthole.

She shares a confused look with Percy, who just shrugs. Why she expected him to know who would be behind the door, she’s not sure. The knock comes again, clearly impatient.

“Come in,” she calls out.

It swings open to reveal Frederick standing in the doorway, eyes turned down at his phone. He’s in a fully black-tie ensemble and his fancy pair of glasses. While he usually dresses more formal than most people would consider necessary, this is abnormal.

“Can you be ready to go in an hour?” He questions, not glancing up from his phone. His lips are pressed tight.

Annabeth blinks, “Uh, for what?”

“I have a charity gala in Syracuse,” Frederick announces like it’s the most obvious answer. “And Sheila has food poisoning. I need you to come with me.”

Percy licks his lips, immediately avoiding eye contact with both Annabeth and Frederick. She notices this, but chooses to ignore it.

She gapes at her father, “This last minute? Are you kidding me?”

He looks at her for the first time, his fancy glasses dropping to the edge of his nose. “Can you be ready or not, Anna Elizabeth?”

Her mind is swarmed. It’s on brand for Frederick to expect her to drop everything at a moment’s notice for the sake of his public persona, and then to get snippy when she acts even remotely confused or questions why it’s necessary. However, she knows there’s only one answer and she’s already trying to think of something suitable she might have in her closet that won’t make her want to cut off her feet after an hour in heels.

“Er, maybe,” she supplies, half-heartedly. “Why can’t you go alone?”

“I RSVP’d with a plus one,” he explains. “I would look like a dunce arriving by myself.”

“What about Bobby or Matthew?” Annabeth suggests. She tries to manage the hope that sparks with the question, surely her younger brothers would love the opportunity to impress on a big stage and earn more of her father’s praise.

Frederick raises an eyebrow, “They’re 13, they’re not stepping foot near an ice sculpture or the President of the New York Historical Society.”

Percy snickers. Annabeth and Frederick turn their focus on him and he immediately cuts his giggles short.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, attempting to hide his smirk. “This event sounds…thrilling.”

She puts on a sweet smile, “Can Percy come with, then? We had plans, so I feel bad about bailing.”

As she says the words, she can feel Percy’s glare boring into her side profile. She elects not to look back over at him.

“What part of RSVP do you not understand?” Frederick shakes his head. “I’ll be downstairs when you’re ready, you have 45 minutes. And please, no open-toed shoes or spaghetti straps.”

“Okay,” she says placidly.

Frederick disappears, leaving the door open behind him. Once she hears his shoes on the stairs, she groans.

“‘Thank you for helping me out, Annabeth, I really appreciate you helping me so short notice,’” she mimics his voice, making it purposefully deeper and stiff.

Percy starts collecting his bracelet materials. “Well, since he thankfully doesn’t need my help, I think I’ll get this back home. It’s time Estelle makes some of these bracelets herself.”

“Yeah, okay,” she nods. “I have to go dig out my Christening dress or something.”

He laughs, “Maybe don’t wear that.”

“I should, just to spite him,” she teases.

Percy gets to his feet, tucking his bracelet-making caboodle under his arm. He leans over, giving her a kiss. She flushes, reminded of her thoughts earlier.

“I’ll text you later,” he promises.

“Yeah?” She questions, though she knew there was no doubt.

“Yes,” he doubles-down.

“Thanks,” she smiles, staring up at him. “If you don’t hear back by 11, call in a wellness check.”

He smirks, “If you’re not back by 10:30, I’ll drive to Seneca myself and drag you out.”

“Syracuse,” she corrects.

“Same difference,” he rolls his eyes.

“If you have to save me, I want to make sure you have the right place,” Annabeth teases.

Percy just smiles back at her, suddenly genuine. “You won’t need my saving. And you can save yourself.”

She grins. “I know, but I like knowing you would.”

“Always,” he swears.

A sharp pain cuts into Annabeth, reminding her that she’s digging herself a hole.

~*~*~*~

Annabeth managed to find an old dress that could, in some circles, classify as black-tie formal. It was originally used at a funeral for some distant cousin a couple years back, but it fit and didn’t appear directly funeral-ish. It’s a smooth black satin and she likes the way it hugs her curves, but still has enough coverage to protect from any lingering gazes from her father’s creepier colleagues’.

The only downfall, unfortunately, are the spaghetti straps. Under the circumstances, Annabeth is okay with stomaching her father’s disappointed scoff - which of course he makes abundantly clear as she descends the stairwell. She left her hair down, curled the best she could in the short time frame, in hopes that it would be enough to cover the straps. Frederick doesn’t say anything else on the matter. He wordlessly collects his car keys and jacket, marching out the door without waiting for Annabeth to follow.

Of course, she does.

The car ride is silent. She attempts to play music, but anything she likes is immediately shot down by her father. He keeps the dial on the droning monotone voices of the NPR channel. She then tries to touch up her makeup, but Frederick makes some dissatisfied sound and she swears he starts purposefully hitting potholes. Why it mattered when or where she did her makeup, she isn’t sure, but she begrudgingly puts her makeup away.

“So…” she starts, already regretting speaking up. “What exactly is the gala for?”

Frederick glances at her out of the corner of his eye. “It’s an annual fundraiser held by the New York Historical Society. Each year they pick a charity to donate to, this year I believe they chose something to do with female education.”

Annabeth snorts. The forecast of having to sit next to her father while he monologues to strangers about the importance of equal and quality education for women, while he doesn’t show a passive interest in his own daughter’s future, well, it sounds insufferable.

“There’s not going to be many kids your age,” Frederick declares. His use of the words ‘kids’ cuts through her like ice.

“I figured,” she mumbles.

He ignores her. “Please, behave with some decorum. This is usually a large event. It can draw big names from the city. And with the research I’m working on, I could use some new investors. How you behave reflects on me - on the family. You wouldn’t want to sully our name, would you?”

His patronizing tone sticks like needles. Annabeth wants to roll her eyes. She wants to argue how impressive she can be, especially considering the event’s goal. She’s at least more impressive than Sheila, who has a decorative communications degree that collects dust in a drawer somewhere.

Saying any of this will only lead to a lecture, and of course Frederick can’t see beyond his own ego to realize the opportunity he has to showcase his young, Ivy-league bound daughter at the function dedicated to female education. If he wants to fumble the ball, that’s on him.

She elects not to respond to her father’s question, choosing to believe it was a rhetorical threat rather than an actual inquiry.

When they arrive at the venue, Annabeth is relieved. No matter awkward silence with an NPR host rattling off information from this year’s farmers almanac. At least now, they will have buffers Annabeth can hopefully leech onto to avoid any more tense conversations with her father.

The New York Historical Society’s Annual Charity Gala is held at a local art museum in downtown Syracuse. The building is sleek and boxy, with large reflecting pools and fountains outfront. A light show swirls and sparkles against the raised flat, stone wall above the museum’s entrance. Miscellaneous modern art sculptures are scattered around the pools and benches, a large placard announcing the event set next to one 6-foot tall, wavy vase made of red clay.

Frederick parks their car near the valet, tossing the keys to the college-aged boy dressed in a tux without so much of a second glance. Annabeth follows, murmuring a thanks before hiking up her dress and chasing her father up the stairs.

They pass small groups of people, equally as black-tie clad, making their way to the entrance. Some already have mixed drinks and are clearly taking in the crisp night air near the relaxing fountains.

Inside the building, the event tables and stage have been assembled in the main lobby. A marbled spiral staircase is at the center of it all, leading up to the different stories of the building. Lavish, dimly lit chandeliers dangle from the ceilings, as well as intricately sculpted expressionist pieces that take Annabeth’s breath away. Large tapestries and displays advertising different historical events, centering around women, that took place in New York are littered near the edges of the social court. A bar is hidden near the back of the room, already collecting a large amount of the guests.

Frederick hands his invitation over to a host near the doors. The host takes a few seconds before handing over a card. A smile slips onto Frederick’s lips as he reads over the card. He steps forward, pulling Annabeth with him by the elbow.

“We’re at one of the big tables,” he whispers to her proudly.

“Oh, good,” she indulges him half-heartedly.

He practically snickers to himself with excitement, “I think we’ll probably be with some friends of mine from the university, maybe even the President himself.”

“The President?” Annabeth mocks, “Joe Biden is here?”

Frederick’s good mood wanes. “Don’t be ridiculous. I swear, Anna Elizabeth, if you keep this attitude all night - “

“Dr. Chase!” A voice summons out of nowhere. An old man with a hideous tie and balding gray hair approaches out of thin air, cutting Frederick’s tirade off.

“Harlon, so good to see you,” Frederick plasters on his public persona. He shakes the man’s outstretched hand, slapping him on the shoulder as he does so. To Annabeth’s distaste, Harlon seems to reciprocate the same transparent smile and glassy eyes that highlight fake relationships.

While they begin to talk, Annabeth inspects the rest of the room and guests. All the older men seem to blend together in a mesh of tuxedos and suits. Meanwhile, each of the women were a bright collage of colors and sparkles that caught Annabeth’s attention in a net of shimmery makeup, intricately pinned hairstyles and polished nails.

“Annabeth,” Frederick turns towards her, pausing his conversation with this Harlon guy.

“Yes?” She questions, wondering if perhaps she was going to be introduced. It’s not that she wanted to talk to this ancient man about God knows what, but it was better than following her father like a puppy best seen and not heard.

He greets her a warm smile, warmer than any other time she can recall. He hands her over his thick credit card, “Would you go get me a glass of Scotch?”

Annabeth hesitantly takes the card from her father. She’s only 18. “Will they serve me?”

Harlon laughs like she made a joke. Frederick chuckles, too. “They will.”

She’s not sure what she’s missing, but doesn’t stick around to find out. She slips away from their conversation, which was already picking up where it left off, and shoulders her way through the crowd to the bar.

The bartender is a middle-aged man, with tired eyes. As Annabeth approaches, he swings a bar rag over his shoulder like a scene from a movie. He eyes her up suspiciously.

“Hi,” she grins politely. “Can I get your cheapest Scotch, neat?”

She knows her father wouldn’t be pleased with loudly asking for the cheap stuff, but she figures it’s her own payback for being dragged here.

The bartender blinks, “Can I see an ID?”

Harlon and her father’s laughter fills her ears again, she wishes she could tell them ‘I told you so,’ but that’s not displaying the ‘decorum’ she was instructed to.

“Uh,” Annabeth begins nervously. “This is for my dad. I know you probably don’t believe me, but it is. What teenager would be here willingly on a Saturday night?”

There’s a pause, where the bartender looks nearly swayed, but then he shakes his head. “Sorry, kid. It’s the law.”

She sighs, though she understands, and turns around. She’s about to walk back to her father and announce defeat when a woman brushes past her, taking her spot at the bar. Annabeth’s eyes glue to her immediately.

The woman is about Annabeth’s height, with thick brown and vaguely familiar gray eyes. She has a distinguished aura, enhanced by her tilted chin and broad shoulders. She glances at Annabeth curiously, as if trying to place how she belongs here. She’s wearing a floor-length, cream dress that glimmers under the bar lights. A golden necklace drips down her chest like melted wax. Annabeth’s breath gets caught in her throat. Whoever this woman is, she’s sculpted from marble, better fit to be on display in the museum than ordering a drink.

“I’ll have a glass of whatever your house red is,” the woman instructs the bartender. Without a second glance, the man grabs a wine glass and begins to pour the drink.

Once again, the woman’s eyes land on Annabeth. It takes everything within Annabeth not to shrivel under the stoney glance.

“And whatever she was getting,” the woman adds on.

The bartender looks up from uncorking the red wine bottle. His eyes drift between the two girls in front of him. His mouth opens but before he can argue the mysterious woman is dropping an American Express black card on the bar top.

“You can put it on my tab,” she smiles at him dryly.

“Of course,” the bartender nods, successfully popping the cork out of the bottle. He pours the woman’s glass, handing over the maroon liquid gingerly. He then turns around to source the Scotch for Frederick.

Annabeth swallows hard. Is she allowed to make eye contact with this woman? It feels wrong somehow. And yet, a tickle at the back of her neck is telling her that this is someone she should know.

“Thank you,” she says to the woman. “It’s for my dad.”

The woman barely returns the eye contact and takes the first sip of her wine. “In that case, get yourself some champagne.”

“Oh, I couldn’t - “ Annabeth begins to protest.

“The champagne is free,” the woman cuts her off. She states it so matter-of-factly, as if Annabeth would be stupid not to go along with it.

And then, as quickly as the woman appeared, she floats away without another word. She leaves an air of bewilderment and the smell of peonies and grapefruit in her wake.

The bartender slides the glass of Scotch over to Annabeth and raises his eyebrow, “Did you want that champagne?”

Annabeth licks her lips, “Yes, please.”

When she returns to her father, he’s speaking with two different men than when she left. He takes the Scotch from her wordlessly in order to continue discussing 18th century something or other. Annabeth stays a step behind him, choosing to sip on her champagne and pretending like she’s supposed to be here.

She spends a majority of the night doing so. No one bats an eye at her as she meanders around, studying the historical displays and drinking more and more champagne. The bartender continues to supply her, probably too scared that the mysterious woman will reappear and scold him if he doesn’t.

But the mysterious woman doesn’t reappear. In fact, Annabeth doesn’t see her anywhere among the guests. And if she was there, Annabeth is certain she would be able to find her. No one else exuded the same air of importance, no one else was 5 '5 but managed tower above everyone else on pure confidence alone.

Annabeth knows so little about the woman, and yet she wants to be her when she grows up.

At 7, her father fetches her from near the ice sculpture. He takes her by the wrist, his hands as cold as the air drifting off the sculpture.

“There you are,” he says, like she’s a toddler who got lost in the grocery store. His eyes find the champagne in her hands. “Are you drinking?”

Annabeth blinks, “No, it’s ginger ale.”

If Frederick detects her lie, he doesn’t call her bluff. He shakes his head, “Dinner will be served soon, come to the table.”

He leads her through the collection of tables until they find one near the makeshift stage with their names on it. A group of six others have already taken their seats, sipping on their own cocktails and munching on the provided bread baskets while discussing among themselves. One seat is still empty, and she can’t help but hope.

Annabeth sits beside her father, setting down her champagne and trying to recognize the people among them. No one seems familiar or important, not in the way the mysterious woman had. They’re all older, with graying hair and stuffy perfume.

“Frederick,” a man with a comb-over greets as her father takes his seat. “I can’t tell you how happy I was to see you sitting with us.”

Her father returns the strained smile, “That’s far too kind of you, Sherman. The pleasure is all mine. You too, Margaret. I can’t wait for your speech.”

The woman beside Sherman, who must be Margaret, enters the conversation. “Ah, thank you, Freddy. I’m sure my assistant did a lovely job writing it.”

The table shares a hearty laugh, though Annabeth struggles to find the joke again. Or maybe she’s too distracted by someone calling her father ‘Freddy.’ She’s certain he hates it.

Her failure to laugh captures the attention of Margaret.

“And who is this?” Margaret questions in an overly-sweet tone.

Frederick turns to face Annabeth with the rest of the table. Her cheeks burn under all the attention.

“My apologies,” Frederick responds. “This is my lovely daughter, Annabeth. She’s my plus-one for the night. I figured it was time for her to get a taste of the real, adult world.”

His words, although coming out coated in honey and pride, fall on Annabeth’s deaf ears. He’s not proud, he’s certainly not pleased he had to bring her, and on top of it all, what is so real about this word? So far all she’s observed are upper-middle class or genuine 1%-er’s inflating each other’s egos, pretending they care about a charity they know nothing about.

And her father certainly doesn't come from the ‘real’ world. He’s living off the inherited wealth he earned when his father died, using his connections and network to get into a good school and launch his first job at a research facility in Boston before they moved to New York. When she compares his story to someone like Sally Jackson, who raised Percy all on her own while working two or sometimes three jobs, she wonders why Frederick is the one getting all the praise at self-indulgent events like these. Or, how Sally was still able to make time for Percy during her busiest days, but this is the longest she’s seen Frederick in years.

“Lovely to meet you, Annabeth,” Margaret tells her.

Sherman nods along, “Yes, lovely. Your father has mentioned great things.”

She doubts that.

“Annabeth,” Frederick introduces. “This is Sherman and Margaret Oberdorf, Margaret is the President of the New York Historical Society and Sherman works in stocks.”

Maybe it’s the three glasses of champagne she had on an empty stomach, but Annabeth is unable to hide the shock on her face that the president of this event is a woman. She’s not sure why it’s so surprising. She never really knew any of her father’s colleagues to be women, and he certainly had some old fashioned beliefs about women in power positions - which is all the more ironic.

“You’re the president?” Annabeth repeats incredulously. Frederick sits straight up in his chair suddenly, shooting her a well-hidden warning glare.

Margaret, thankfully, exchanges an amused look with her. “Why, yes I am. I took over about a year ago. Is that so surprising?”

Annabeth closes her agape mouth. “No, I just…it’s very impressive. And I think the charity you chose this year is very deserving.”

Hopefully, it’s a good enough recovery. Frederick turns his attention back to the couple. No one else at the table seemed to be paying attention either, and Margaret still has a smirk on her thin lips.

“I’m glad you think so,” the woman is saying. “I’ve been a part of this organization for years and while all the other charities we’ve served over the years have been doing their own honorable work, I thought it was about time we encourage more women to join the ranks. Afterall, any of the girls benefiting from our donations might just go on to become involved in the preservation of our history.”

“Well said,” Sherman agrees whole-heartedly. Then, he takes a long sip of the Old Fashioned in front of him.

Annabeth swallows, holding herself back from drinking more of her champagne. “I couldn’t agree more,” she says instead.

A cart is wheeled beside them by a young waiter, who quickly distributes salad and a small cup of soup to the table. Annabeth’s stomach somersaults, excited at the prospect of any kind of food.

“I have to say,” Margaret continues while the table begins to unfurl their napkins and prepare for the food. “It’s so…intentional of you to bring your young daughter to this event, Freddy.”

Understanding dawns on Frederick Chase like lightning. He glances nervously at Annabeth, who does her best to hide her snickers. She can’t believe he didn’t see it sooner, but she’s absolutely amused by Margaret calling him out on it.

“Oh, yes,” he nods with pink cheeks. He tucks his napkin down on his lap, suddenly very focused on how he’s arranging his silverware on the table.

He clears his throat, “I just wanted to prove my dedication and of course, show everyone how important and, er, personal the work of this charity can be. Afterall, I only want the best for my daughter. I can’t imagine how many parents feel the same but lack the resources we have. It’s important work.”

Bullshit, she thinks, and shamelessly rolls her eyes. The numbing alcohol in her system beginning to dissolve all of her normal restraint.

“Hmm,” Margaret muses. “And I suppose it has nothing to do with your upcoming research and request for funding from the Historical Society?”

Annabeth has to bite down on her cheek to keep from laughing, but she can’t hide the grin on her face. She takes a sip of her champagne, forgetting her previous plan to start slowing down. Margaret is beginning to grow on her.

She turns expectantly to her father, excited to see how he plans to bounce back from this.

Frederick straightens in his chair. “Well, uh, of course I would love a donation from the Society if that’s in the cards. I think our line of work and interests are very much aligned. But frankly, I’m a little offended at your implication of using my daughter for my own personal gain.”

He’s not, Annabeth thinks, but only because he was too dumb to think of it.

“Oh, I’m sure that’s not what we intended,” Sherman disagrees in a flat tone.

Margaret shrugs, “Well, I’ll be happy to pass along your funding request to the board. As for your daughter, I’m sure she’s had enough of this boring conversation.”

Annabeth blinks, shocked that it somehow has turned back on her. “Oh, it’s not boring,” she says, and for the first time all night - actually means it.

“Regardless,” the woman responds in a sweet tone. “Tell me about yourself. Afterall, if we’re donating to help young women like yourself, I think it would be apt to hear from our demographic.”

She’s not sure how she feels about being a spokesperson for underprivileged young women who are benefiting from their donations, especially when she’s far from underprivileged and everyone keeps implying that she is. Frankly, she’s surprised that her father is entertaining it, normally he would be making it abundantly clear just how affluent and connected their family is. Perhaps he’s had enough embarrassment for the night.

“Oh, sure,” Annabeth agrees. “I’m a senior at Goode High School right now. It’s about an hour away.”

“A senior,” Sherman repeats. “How exciting, you’re almost done!”

She nods, “Yes, it’s very exciting, and a little daunting.”

“A motivated young woman like yourself must have some big plans,” Margaret levels her gaze.

Annabeth takes another sip of her champagne, hoping it will settle the rising nerves in her stomach.

“She does,” Frederick assures blankly.

“I do,” Annabeth ignores her father. “I have a lot going on this year of course - I run our Prom committee, Student Council and I’m Class President, on top of the volunteering I do. But, it’ll all be worth it. I want to go to Columbia or NYU in the fall.”

Sherman chuckles, “Motivated was right, huh?” Frederick hesitantly joins in more dryly.

“Why those schools?” Margaret wonders, unsatisfied.

Annabeth sucks in a breath. “Oh, well, I don’t have to tell you about how prestigious both of them are. I want to learn from the best, of course. Plus, my, uh, boyfriend is looking to swim collegiately and a school in the city would be the best for both of us.”

Margaret cocks her head curiously. Annabeth knew it was a mistake to mention Percy, not only because of their rocky situation, but also because she knows the minute a boy comes into question what everyone will think - that she’s just following him. She couldn’t possibly have aligned interests, she has to be hitching a ride with him and giving up on her own aspirations. It couldn’t be further from the truth.

“A boy,” Margaret predictably ‘tsk’s’ under her breath.

“He’s going to the Olympics,” Annabeth blurts. “Or at least, he’s on track to. He’s already being scouted.”

“Impressive,” Sherman whistles. “You must be pleased, Frederick?”

“Uh, yes. Very,” Frederick nods smarmily.

Margaret moves on, “And what do you wish to study, Annabeth?”

“Architecture,” she answers immediately.

“Why architecture?”

Annabeth is starting to get a little annoyed with the 20-questions. She didn’t sign up for this when she was forced to come. She’d take being invisible and attempting to entertain herself, maybe playing her trusty game of comparison while her father rambles on, than getting interrogated by this old lady. Admittedly, she’s a bit of a badass, but Annabeth isn’t sure why there’s so much focus on her.

Not to mention, a seat still remains empty and a part of her is waiting for the mysterious woman from the bar to take a seat and change the subject.

“I’ve always had an interest in it,” Annabeth replies truthfully. “I like the idea of building something permanent. And, I think the intersection of utility and creativity is fascinating.”
This catches the ear of a few other people at the table, including her father. Annabeth supposes there’s nothing more intriguing to the frequenters of this event than anything resembling a promising intellectual conversation starter.

“How so?” Her father, surprisingly, asks.

Annabeth can feel the eyes trained on her as she continues.

“Well,” she starts slowly, “take the Greeks for example. Obviously, they’re well known for their columns. A column itself is utilitarian in theory, they’re meant to provide support and structure to a building. The Greeks could’ve stopped there and just used some sort of cylindrical slab of stone. Instead, they take it a step further and they carve it. If you look at a Corithinian column, it’s far more intricate than necessary.”

She swallows before continuing. “They chose to put in the extra work, the extra time, even extra money, to make it more visually appealing, to be creative. I think that’s beautiful. And we choose to do that time and time again. If you look at any culture, there’s examples. This building, for even. Sure, it’s more modern and leaning more utilitarian, but I like to think it’s so the art inside is highlighted. There’s still a creative intention.”

Annabeth points to the spiral staircase. She’s on a roll now, all her previous inhibitions out the window as she begins to ramble. “That could’ve been a simple set of stairs or even an elevator if the designers were looking at the pure purpose of what needed to be done - connecting the two floors. Instead, they elected to source a specific type of marble and have it carved into a spiral staircase that is now the centerpiece of this room.”

“I think that’s what’s cool about architecture,” she forces herself to wrap things up. “I mean, there’s a ton of reasons why it's cool but the balance between utility and creativity is what inspires me. Time and time again, humans choose art and expression because we need a beautifully carved column as much as we need it for support. It’s a different kind of support, in my mind.”

She finishes by taking a big gulp of her champagne. The table is staring at her in silence. She can’t bear to know what her father’s reaction is, so she doesn’t look over at him. Margaret, however, has an unreadable sparkle in her eye.

“Hear, hear!” Sherman finally announces. He raises his glass, sharing a conspiratorial wink with Annabeth that she actually enjoys.

The rest of the table follows suit, clinking their raised glasses together. Annabeth feels her face flush, so she focuses on the salad laid out before her.

“That was beautiful, Annabeth,” Margaret assures. “If that’s how you see the world, you will make a great architect.”
“Thank you,” Annabeth genuinely smiles. “I appreciate that, especially coming from you.”

Margaret tucks into her food, as well, and Sherman quickly changes the subject to something the rest of the table can partake in. She can feel Frederick’s relief beside her. Annabeth’s time in the spotlight has faded, and she’s surprisingly as grateful as her father.

However, she still finds herself eyeing up the empty seat at their table and wondering what the Mysterious Woman’s reaction would’ve been to her monologue.

~*~*~*~

The rest of the gala goes by quickly. Margaret gets up on the makeshift stage and gives a speech at some point, all about the good work the charity does and the importance of equal opportunities for women all across the country. It’s surprisingly short and optimistic, something that Annabeth hadn’t quite picked up on when talking with Margaret herself.

They leave shortly after the speech, though not before Frederick makes a big deal of signing a check for a large donation and handing it to Margaret himself. Annabeth supposes it probably has something to do with feeling so called out by Margaret’s implications earlier in the evening, and deep down Annabeth hopes that that was the president’s long-game the whole time.

By the time they’re back in the car and on the way home, Annabeth had a grand total of six glasses of champagne and had no other sightings of the mysterious woman. She’s delightfully drunk, enjoying the feel of her hand out the window as she moves up and down against the cold air current passing by their car on the interstate.

Halfway through the drive, Frederick turns down whatever night-time show NPR produces and draws silence within the car. She glances over at her father.

“Thank you for coming tonight,” he says stiffly, his eyes glued on the road.

Annabeth blinks away her shock, “No problem. I actually kinda enjoyed myself.”

This time, Frederick glances over and takes in her current state. Her face is flushed from the champagne, her hair has started to lose the artificial curls, and she’s finding it hard to meet his eyes. Basically, she’s not exactly being discreet.

“I’m sure,” is all he says.

“Next time I would like advance notice,” she responds teasingly, with only a small element of truth.

A beat passes before her father nods curtly. “Noted,” he remarks.

Annabeth drops her seat back farther so she can stare at the street lights passing over the car’s moonroof. It might be the alcohol, but she meant it when she said she had enjoyed herself. The night was nothing if not eventful, watching the tense back and forth between her father and Margaret would’ve been entertaining enough on its own, but her interaction with the mysterious woman at the bar and the public praise she received were equally as exciting.

“You, er, did good tonight, actually,” Frederick adds in a rushed stammer.

She’s tempted to sit upright again and push for more - or better yet - proudly declare an ‘I told you so.’ But as she watches the street lamps blur past her, a calm settles in her stomach. Things aren’t fixed with her father, but she won a small battle tonight. Perhaps he might keep this in mind as they go forward.

“Thanks,” she sighs.

The ASMR-inducing voices of the NPR station flow through the car again, signaling the end of their conversation. Annabeth wiggles around in her seat, closing her eyes for the rest of the ride home.

~*~*~*~

She wakes up surprisingly refreshed as the car pulls to a stop. Frederick switches the ignition off and clicks off his seatbelt.

“Annabeth,” he says in a surprisingly soft tone. “We’re home.”

She sits up in her seat slowly. The car is stopped in their driveway, like her father had said. Only a couple lights in their house cut through the night. Matthew and Bobby must already be asleep, Sheila probably still lounging in her sickness. Frederick slips out of the car, immediately taking off his suit jacket and making his way to the house.

Annabeth rubs the sleep out of her eyes and undoes her own seatbelt. She gets out of the car in that clunky way that freshly-awake and still tipsy people move.

To her surprise, movement in the driveway next door catches her attention. For the first time, she hadn’t been searching for it.

A couple cars are parked on the street in front of Piper’s house, none of which Annabeth recognizes. A firepit crackles in the center of the driveway, with music drifting softly through the otherwise quiet night. Dark figures are huddled around the fire, sitting in lawn chairs with blankets tucked over their laps. Even in the dark from a few yards away, Annabeth can find Piper’s outline as she leans over to fiddle with something in the fire.

Annabeth stays watching for a little too long, before finally prying her eyes away and following her father into their motionless house. She can’t shake the longing feeling that had settled over her like a rain cloud.

Her mind can’t help but wonder what it would be like to go over and join Piper’s bonfire. Would they make each other s’mores and exchange ghost stories? These days, it’s more common for Annabeth to have huge slightly-controlled parties rather than a simple bonfire with close friends. She yearns for that simplicity - for that special closeness.

Once inside, Annabeth flops out of her heels and tosses them aside. Her feet flood with relief as they touch the cool wood in the entryway. Frederick is nowhere to be seen or heard, he must’ve already wandered up to bed.

She circles into the kitchen, her body craving the greasy leftovers of whatever the boys’ had eaten last. In the light of the fridge, she shoves her face with cold pizza and mini corn dogs. Her phone buzzes on the kitchen island, the blue light cutting through the dark room and drawing her attention away from her savory snacks. It’s probably Percy texting again, making sure she got home safe and that the night wasn’t as bad as they both thought it would be.

Instead, a mini corn dog hits the ground while Annabeth reads the notification over and over.

Piper: hey you should come to the bonfire

Chapter Text

“‘hey you should come to the bonfire?’” That’s her big idea?

Piper regrets the text almost immediately. She isn’t sure what came over her in the first place.

All she can remember is the headlights of Frederick’s Audi flashing over them as he pulled it into the opposite driveway and the way Piper’s shoulders stiffened when she saw Annabeth’s silhouette get out of the car. She had tried to focus back in on the crackling fire in front of her and whatever silly story Leo was telling, but her eyes kept intuitively checking on the neighboring house. She can remember her pulse quickening - embarrassingly so - when she noticed Annabeth linger in the driveway.

Then Piper’s phone was out and she was sending the text without a single thought.

Now that it’s been a few minutes and there hasn’t been a response, her mind can’t shut the fuck up.

She’s not sober. The space she had requested, that Annabeth had finally begun to listen to, was intended for Piper to figure out her shit and prepare for what she wanted to say whenever she was ready. That plan didn’t account for Piper reaching out, in the spur of the moment, with Leo’s shitty weed and a handful of wine coolers jumbling up her already confusing emotions.

On top of that, this whole sleepover weekend was her idea to get some much-needed best friend time with Hazel and Leo. They were right, she is super busy slaving over her instruments and stressing over school and whatever homoerotic situation Annabeth had gotten her in. She needed this. And how does she repay them? By inviting that homoerotic situation over to crash their bestie time.

She remembers what Percy said. How maybe she and Annabeth need to start over with other people around. Afterall, they were friends once. There’s no reason why they can’t at least be friends while they detangle their emotions. And, she hates to think it, but if anything went wrong tonight, Annabeth is a little outnumbered in the friend department.

But that, of course, is assuming Annabeth accepts her invitation.

“You good, Pipes?” Leo questions, his eyes struggling to focus on her from across the fire. He’s toasted, more than the s’more he’s currently stuffing in his mouth.

Piper blinks a few times. She nods, “Yeah, sorry. What were we talking about?”

Hazel and Leo exchange glances before breaking into a fit of giggles. Leo shrugs lazily, “I can’t remember.”

“I-I think,” Hazel attempts to speak through his laughter, “I think we were talking about Leo doing his magic trick.”

“My magic trick?” He questions with a raised eyebrow. “What the fuck is that?”

Watching Leo look confused as he sucks the remaining chocolate and marshmallow off his fingers is enough to make Piper get out of her own head and join in on their laughter.

“Oh, you know!” Hazel urges. She attempts to smack Leo’s knee playfully, but she’s too far away and her hand misses. “Your magic trick, with the colors!”

Piper smirks. She has no idea what Hazel is talking about. “Yeah, Leo, duh, make the colors.”

A sudden dawning of recognition drops Leo’s mouth open. He claps his hands together, “Wait, yeah the colors! Okay, hold on.”

He gets to his feet and haphazardly marches over to the pile of wood they were using. He had brought most of it from home, along with a bag that held whatever else he thought they might need for a fire.

He returns with his hands suspiciously behind his back, an evil glint in his eyes. He positions himself in front of the fire pit, so the flames are reflected against his hollow cheeks.

“Gals and pals, Leo the Fire Lord is pleased to present tonight’s entertainment,” he begins in an overly-dramatic fashion.

“Where are tomatoes when you need them?” Piper sticks her tongue out.

Leo frowns, “I haven’t even begun the magic trick.”

“Yeah but I didn’t like the nickname,” she remarked.

“Please save all reviews for after the performance,” he snips, “and like, shut up until then.”

Hazel snickers, “Yes, Mr. Fire Lord.”

Leo rolls his eyes, but powers through. “Without further ado…” in a quick flash, he throws a couple round objects out from behind his back and into the fire.

As they fall into the flames, the objects begin to crumble. Around them, the orange and yellow flames spark and hiss, turning most of the fire into an electric blend of blue, green and purple. Hazel laughs, clapping like a little kid seeing a dolphin for the first time. Piper can’t pull her eyes away either, taking in the flashes of white that snap like lightning and break up the flickering aurora borealis happening within the fire.

“Behold!” Leo declares, spreading his arms out over the fire. “The colors Hazel demanded!”

Hazel gives her friend an ovation, sarcastically bowing as she does so. “Bravo, bravo, Mr. Fire Lord.”

Piper watches as the mysterious objects fully disappear and yet the fire keeps its new color. She’s seen this before, her father used to do something similar during their bonfires when she was younger and a couple times at fire safety programs at school. She knows deep down that it’s some chemical reaction involving copper, rubber, and a few other materials, but that doesn't stop her mind from short circuiting when the purple meshes with the green.

“Thanks, Leo,” Piper says genuinely. She leans back in her chair, letting the fire warm her.

“No problem,” he smiles back proudly. “Does anyone need anything while I’m up? Anything to drink? Maybe snacks that don’t need to be cooked over the fire now that there’s a shit ton of chemicals in it?”

“Cheetos!” Hazel exclaims.

“Something to drink, please,” Piper requests.

Leo salutes them diligently before heading into the open garage. Hazel pulls her blanket up closer around her.

“I think he’s being nice because we let him watch Transformers last night,” she comments.

Piper chuckles, “Good to know an occasional bribe will get him to do our bidding.”

They shut up as Leo re-emerges from the garage, a Mike’s Hard Lemonade in either hand with a bag of cheetos tucked under his arm.

Leo hands her a drink and as she reaches out to grab it, her phone suddenly vibrates in her lap. She immediately withdrawals her hand and checks her phone. The bottle drops to the ground, shattering against the pavement.

“Damn, Piper, what the hell,” Leo stares down at the mess. “I thought you grabbed it.”

But Piper isn’t listening. She’s reading.

Annabeth: omw

“Okay, guys, um, I did something,” Piper announces shakily.

“Yeah, we know,” Hazel snickers, “clean up the glass, butterfingers.”

“No, not that,” she shakes her head and bites down on her lip. “Um, I invited Annabeth.”

The other glass bottle hits the pavement, shattering next to the previous mess. Leo is staring at her in shock, his mouth open.

“What?” He asks.

“Yeah, what?” Hazel repeats, a little delayed.

Piper gives them a toothy, ‘hahaha oops’ smile. “Yeah, she’s coming over.”

“Annabeth Chase?” Leo questions. “As in your sworn nemesis?”

“I wouldn’t say nemesis…”

“I would,” Hazel disagrees. “And I think you’ve called her that in the past.”

Piper licks her lips, “Well, maybe. But she’s coming over.”

“Why?” They both ask.

She shrugs, “I don’t know. I saw her get home a little bit ago…and I don’t know, said what the hell? So…I asked her to come by.”

Leo blinks, sitting down in his chair like he just got told some bad news. Hazel looks between them.

“How drunk are you?” She asks.

Piper purses her lips and raises two fingers, only an inch or so apart. Leo shakes his head, “Nah, way more than that. Sober Piper would never.”

“Um, well,” She scrambles to come up with an excuse, “drunk Piper did. Also high Piper. I am both. And it’s too late. Unless you guys want don’t want her to - “

“No, it’s okay. This is weird,” Hazel admits, cutting her off. “Like, really weird. But if you’re okay with it…yeah, it’s fine.”

Piper gives her a thankful smile and turns her attention to Leo. He takes a moment before shrugging lackadaisically.

“Sure,” he says. “I mean, we’re probably a lot cooler than her other friends.”

“Okay, cool,” she feels a flush of relief flow over her.

And then it immediately disappears.

Annabeth is coming over. Now.

“I have to clean up the glass,” Piper declares suddenly.

She gets to her feet and heads to the garage to find a broom. Her hands are shaking, which has never really happened before and freaks her out even more, so she smacks them against the side of her hips. Already she can hear Hazel and Leo whispering amongst themselves about how odd this might be, which only adds to the anxiety building within.

What if Annabeth thinks they’re going to have the conversation they’ve both been putting off? No, she can’t think that. She saw that Leo and Hazel were over. It wouldn’t make sense.

Okay, what if she thinks the bonfire is super lame and leaves right away? She’s never seen Piper with Leo or Hazel before, either, what if she thinks Piper is a different person now?

That’s ridiculous. Of course Piper’s a different person now. It’s been four years. It would be more concerning if she hadn’t changed. And, if Annabeth does think the fire is lame, she can leave. This is Piper’s thing, no one has to stay.

Oh my God, she nearly stops in her tracks, what if she looks fucking ugly? They slept on the floor in their living room blanket fort last night, and she is wearing sweatpants and an old hoodie. She barely brushed her hair this morning. She probably looks like a plane crash survivor.

Piper locates the broom and grabs the dustpan. She grabs two more drinks from the fridge, too. As she walks back towards the fire, she runs a panicked hand through her tangled hair.

She stops in her tracks.

Annabeth Chase is standing in front of Piper’s bonfire. Leo is standing, too, grabbing Annabeth a chair. He’s setting it up in the only empty space, in between him and…Piper.

All three of her guests suddenly turn to face her. Piper tightens her grips on the glass bottles in her hands. Annabeth waves at her smally.

“Oh, hey,” Piper blinks.

Play it cool, she tells herself.

“You came,” she says, stiffly.

“Yeah, I texted you,” Annabeth said, shifting around awkwardly.

Piper suddenly remembers what she’s doing and continues to walk towards the bonfire. She nods, “Oh, I didn’t see…I’ve been, uh…”

“Cleaning up the two glass bottles she broke,” Leo finishes for her. He shoots her a wink, like he just saved her and didn’t announce to Annabeth that she stupidly dropped glass everywhere.

Hazel snorts, “You broke one, Leo. It’s right next to your chair.”

“Circumstantial evidence,” he objects.

Piper stops near the fire, handing Leo one of the replacement drinks, and setting her in the drink holder of her chair. Annabeth’s shadow looms over the fire, and Piper suddenly feels bad for letting her continue to stand.

“You can sit,” Piper suggests. She still hasn’t looked Annabeth in the eye. This is not going how she wanted it too.

Annabeth gestures to the glass, “I will…um, there’s glass in the way, though.”

“Oh - ” Piper glances back down at the mess.

She awkwardly begins to sweep the mess into the dust pan. She’s not sure if it’s in her mind, but she can feel all three pairs of eyes follow her movements; one pair feeling heavier than the rest. The only sound in the night is the crackle of the fire and the scraping of glass on pavement. It’s painful on her ears and she attempts to hurry up the process.

“So…” Hazel goofily breaks the silence. “Annabeth, how is your Saturday night?”

Piper’s eyes remain glued to the ground. She practically jumps when Annabeth’s voice cuts into her ears. She can’t help but notice how different the blonde’s voice is right now. It’s slightly clipped, more sweet and polite.

“Not bad,” she’s replying. “I had to go to a charity event in Syracuse with my dad.”

The new tone fills Piper with a concoction of emotions; dread, mainly. She didn’t invite Cheer Captain, socialite Annabeth. Granted, she didn’t put much thought into inviting any form of Annabeth. But she was hoping for the Annabeth she got to see. The girl who can be as desperately reckless as she is proper and planned, someone who keeps Piper on her toes, even after all the years they’ve known each other; the ghost of Friendship’s past and the question mark of the future.

She finishes tucking the glass into the dustpan and shuffles her way out of the circle of chairs. As she locates her garbage bins, she can hear the hushed discussion continue behind her. A prickle of anxiety crawls up her spine at the idea of the three of them interacting without her supervision.

Piper ditches the dustpan and broom as the garbage can closes behind her. She spins on her heel, quickly marching back to the fire. She takes her seat without looking, bundling back up with her blanket and opening up her drink.

When she finally looks back up, she surveys the situation. Leo is using a large stick to fiddle with the fire, attempting to shift the logs and prolong the colors from his magic trick. Hazel is laughing at something. And then, Piper’s eyes finally find Annabeth.

Annabeth’s talking - surprisingly the source of Hazel’s laughter.

Piper soaks Annabeth in like a breath of fresh air, instantly regretting taking this long to work up the courage to look at her directly. She’s wearing a black dress, made of satin or some similar fabric, that rests over her like a slip dress. The way it flows down from her chest to her hips and stops, tantalizingly, at her thighs makes Piper’s breath hitch in her throat. Her hair has been put up messily, but is curled tighter than it normally is. In the fire light, her blonde is elevated to a molten gold that reflects the fire’s flickering shadows.

She has one leg crossed over the other, showing off her surprisingly bare feet. Piper feels a pang of guilt rise through her, suddenly worried about any glass she may have missed.

Right as Piper begins to pull herself away, Annabeth is glancing over at her, mid-laugh, and she freezes. Their eyes meet, stormy gray crashing with Piper’s own mess of colors. The world is put on pause.

Annabeth.

Annabeth is staring back at her, head tilted back with laughter. She’s interacting with Hazel and Leo, but her eyes are stuck on Piper. It’s only them.

Everything short circuits. Her mind goes blank. In this moment, she swears, her pulse has been rewired, pumping over and over to the beat of Annabeth’s name and nothing else. She wants to keep her laughing, to keep that hazy smile on her face and make sure she doesn't leave her side.

And as Piper takes in all the details, she realizes something too. She sees the smudge of Annabeth’s eyeshadow. At the corner of her eyes, there’s a tinge of red and a bead of sweat on her eyebrows. And, she detects the permanent flush on her cheeks. It all clicks. Her tone of voice, the easy laughter and bare feet…Annabeth’s drunk as fuck.

Piper bites down on her lip, forcing herself to pull her eyes away. The idea of them both being wasted, only a few inches away from bumping knees, leaves questions hanging in the air. All the possible answers make Piper’s stomach do a frontflip.

“Here, Pipes,” Leo is leaning around the fire. He holds a freshly-rolled joint in between his fingers.

Piper stares at the offering, suddenly feeling conflicted. She’s already smoked tonight and while she would love to smoke more, the alcohol in her bloodstream might disagree. And something about being high, of smoking right next to Annabeth, seemed like too far.

Annabeth is staring at the joint like a deer caught in headlights. She’s leaning back in her chair, like it might leap out and bite her. Piper can picture sinking her own teeth in the curve of Annabeth’s shoulder. She coughs.

“Thanks,” she takes the joint. But instead of bringing it up to her own lips, she shifts closer to Annabeth. “Do you wanna?”

The other girl’s eyes flicker to her house across the yard. She shivers. “Uh, no thanks.”

Piper swallows, “There’s nothing to worry about.”

She feels the cold press of determination push down on her chest. Her hands tighten, she wants Annabeth to feel welcomed and safe. She wishes she could take her by the shoulders, stare deep into her intimidating eyes, and swear that nothing bad would ever touch her so long as Piper is around.

“My stuff isn’t laced,” Leo pitches in, as if he can read Piper’s mind. “And sometimes you don’t get high the first time. This stuff is pretty weak, too, so I wouldn’t be surprised if you felt nothing.”

“Weak,” Hazel points with a wink, practically disproving Leo’s point.

Annabeth cracks a grin, “I’m pretty sure this is the peer pressure I’ve been warned about.”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want, too,” Piper reassures.

Deep down she knows sober Annabeth wouldn’t be entertaining the idea and that might be reason enough to rescind the offer, but the vindication that would come with Annabeth letting loose and having a good time is too tempting to Piper’s clouded conscience. There’s also the fact that Annabeth is already drunk, and perhaps smoking for the first time isn’t the best idea right now, but that thought evades Piper’s brain.

“I think I want to,” Annabeth replies. Her tone is surprisingly smooth.

Piper smiles, “I can show you.”

“Okay,” Annabeth blinks. She leans forward. Their faces are close, Piper can feel the stale champagne on her breath.

“So when I light it, you have to inhale,” Piper instructs in a soft tone. “You’re going to cough, that’s okay. I still do. Just make sure you take it in.”

Annabeth nods dutifully; the same face she makes while taking notes in AP Calculus or presiding over the student council. Carefully, she takes the joint from Piper and sets it between her lips. If she squints, Piper can see the remnants of whatever lipstick had been on Annabeth’s lips.

“Ready?” Piper smirks with a little mischief behind her eyes.

The blonde nods again. Piper raises the lighter, flicking it to life and bringing it near the end of the joint.

“Inhale,” she coaches. On cue, Annabeth sucks in a deep breath. The butt of the joint flares a bright orange.

There’s a pause, where Annabeth has the smoke in her mouth and everyone is staring at her expectantly, and Piper’s earth seems to tilt on its axis. She can’t believe this is where they are.

A mouthful of smoke hits Piper in the face as Annabeth breaks into a fit of coughs. She blinks it away, leaning back in her chair. Hazel and Leo are laughing like it’s the funniest thing they’ve witnessed.

Piper waves the smoke away, giggling. “Did you breathe any in?”

“I don’t know,” Annabeth responds through her wheezes. “Oh my god, that was horrible,” she adds. There’s still a smile dancing on her lips.

“Try this,” Leo hands her a bottle of water.

Annabeth takes it, gulping down as much as she can. She passes the joint to Piper, “Take this away,” she laughs.

“You gotta try again!” Hazel urges.

“Absolutely not,” the blonde insists. She then thinks about it, “Well, maybe in a minute.”

Piper laughs, taking a couple hits herself before passing it on to Hazel. When she leans back in her chair, enjoying her refreshed high, she finds Annabeth’s eyes lingering on her.

“What?” She questions.

Annabeth raises a curious eyebrow, “Oh, you still cough, too, huh?”

“Sometimes,” Piper bites on the tip of her tongue and shrugs nonchalantly. She can’t hide her snickers.

“Uh-huh,” she rolls her eyes. Her hand flits, gesturing to the group around the fire. “Is this what you guys normally do? I haven’t seen it before.”

Leo rubs his hands together, “I can’t say I’ve ever been invited to Piper’s infamous sleepovers before.”

Annabeth’s words hurt Piper, and she’s not sure why.

“Infamous?” Annabeth repeats.

“Infamous,” he confirms.

Hazel pipes in, “To be fair, we haven’t had one yet this year. And the bonfire is new. Usually we hole ourselves inside for the weekend, watching any and everything we can and read and sing and play Mario Kart and dance and one time we did literally have a pillow fight another we - “

“Okay, Haze,” Piper interrupts her with a soft voice. “I think she gets the point.”

Annabeth swallows another big sip from her water. Her responsive smile is tight. Piper wants to know what’s going on behind her eyes, if they’re both thinking the same thing. She bites her tongue.

Don’t ruin a good thing, she commands herself.

“Do you want another go?” Leo questions.

The joint had made its way back to Annabeth, and Piper could tell that her friends were eager to see Annabeth push her own boundaries. To them, this girl was practically a myth. Their town is small, their school even smaller, and she knows their interactions were limited to nothing but whispered updates on Annabeth’s social life and emails from the Student Council slipping into their inbox. The girl etched in firelight is an enigma, and Leo particularly likes to crack things open and see what makes them tick. Not in the way a psychopath might skin small animals in their backyard, but with the same earnest curiosity that kept him working on cars for hours and, occasionally, blind to social cues.

Annabeth’s eyebrows set in determination. “Sure,” she takes the joint again. This time, she also took the lighter herself.

“They grow up so fast,” Hazel commented sweetly.

Annabeth repeats the actions from earlier, only by herself this time. Piper feels a pang of longing for that closeness. She wants to feel their thighs bump together and the heat pass between them, but that was too big of a desire when they haven’t yet made friendship work.

This time, Annabeth does much better. She doesn’t blow the smoke out right away and Piper can see the concentrated effort she puts into trying not to cough as much; she still does, but she makes it three puffs in before her coughs take over.

They continue this for a while. Hazel and Leo spear-heading any conversation as the joint was passed until it was nothing more than ash. Piper watched and listened. This was her role whenever they smoked. The weed makes Hazel incandescent, her normally reserved nature is pushed aside and every thought she ever has comes out in a giggly mess. And Leo is all too happy to feed into this, he does any and every bit that comes to mind and banters with Hazel like a late night host. Piper stays on the sidelines, watching the crinkles at the corner of their mouths as they smile and all their inhibitions slip away. She throws in words of encouragement from time to time, otherwise content to be entertained.

Truthfully, her consciousness feels detached during these moments. She’s taking in everything around them, packaging it away in her head for her to unpack years down the road when she misses being a teenager with the freedom to waste away a Saturday night. But she’s distanced from the actual memories themselves. She’s loose, absorbing all the sensory details, but not contributing. She’s watching from afar, a loving haziness blurs the edges of reality.

Suddenly, Annabeth launches to her feet, catching Piper’s lazy eyes.

“What’s up?” She asks.

Annabeth blinks, as if trying to remember why she stood up in the first place. It dawns on her like a light bulb going off, “I have to pee,” she announces.

“Oh,” Piper gets to her feet. Annabeth has been in her house countless times, she might remember where it is but it felt weird to let her wander off by herself. “I’ll let you inside,” she responds.

The other girl nods and navigates her way out of the circle of lawn chairs. Piper follows, careful to watch her step. Her legs feel shaky after sitting for so long.

Piper leads Annabeth in through the garage. The house is empty, except for the remains of their pillow fort in the living room. A single light in the kitchen welcomes them in. Piper flicks on a couple more.

Annabeth turns to Piper. Her face is flushed. “Where is it?”

Piper feels the corner of her lips raise, “You don’t remember?”

“I can’t remember,” Annabeth confirms in an amused whisper, like it was an embarrassing secret.

With a roll of her eyes and without a second to doubt what she was doing, Piper is grabbing the girl by her hand and pulling her through the house. She can tell they’re both inebriated, because not a single one of them stiffens at their touch.

Annabeth disappears into the bathroom, the door shutting gently behind her. For a moment, Piper stands in the dark hallway waiting.

Then her brain kicks in. Is it weird to be standing here waiting when Annabeth comes out? And what would she even say? ‘Oh, don’t mind me, just listening to you piss,’ she thinks.

Feeling awkward in her own house, Piper shuffles off back into the kitchen. She grabs another bottle of water and a couple other drinks from the fridge to bring back out. A note on the fridge from her father reminds her of the pancake breakfast on Monday.

“Hey, Piper!” Annabeth’s voice calls. “Can you come in here?”

Goosebumps rise on Piper’s arms. She sets the drinks down on the counter and traces her way back to the bathroom.

Politely, she knocks gently on the door. “Uh, yeah?”

“I said come in!” Annabeth demands.

Hesitantly, Piper pushes the door open.

Annabeth is sitting, thankfully fully clothed, on top of the closed toilet seat. Her blond hair has been undone, now falling in wavy chunks around her face. In the harsh light of the bathroom, Piper can see all the makeup that has smudged or started to fade. Her dress is rolled up a little, with one leg crossed over the other. One foot is on display, with a gash of blood welling up in the center of her arch. The bathroom tile has bloody footprints pressed into it, with a little pool forming under her where her foot is dripping.

She’s looking up at Piper with gritted teeth and a playful smile, oblivious to any pain. She would laugh if it were so clearly her fault from the glass.

“I’m bleeding,” Annabeth states.

“Shit,” Piper breaths out.

She steps forward, wanting to help but unsure of where to begin. Her hands are shaking again, but she sucks in a deep breath and pushes that away. She wishes she wasn’t high.

“I think I need a bandaid,” Annabeth adds, only somewhat helpfully.

“Yes, a bandaid,” Piper nods. She opens a drawer in the bathroom vanity, pulling out the first box she finds.

It's one of those white, plastic first aid kits with a red cross on the front. She sets it beside the sink. She puts her hair up in a ponytail, like she was about to scrub in for a surgery. It’s like the minute she does, a new sense of duty flushes over her. Her mind is clear, she has work to do and she's the only one who can do it.

She grabs a bunch of toilet paper, wadding it up and sinking down so she’s level with Annabeth’s foot. She wipes at it gently, brushing away as much of the blood as she can. Annabeth doesn’t move or flinch, but her eyes follow each movement curiously. Once the wound is semi-clean, Piper stands back up.

“You should hop onto the counter,” she instructs. “So we can run it under water.”

Annabeth stares back up at Piper with wide-eyes, a smirk on her lips. She teases, “Yes, ma’am.”

Without putting weight on her injured foot, Annabeth stands. Piper offers a hand, which is taken almost immediately. She hobbles in front of the counter, and turns. They’re face to face, only a couple inches between them. Piper is surprised, she didn’t foresee this when she gave the instructions. Annabeth, on the other hand, still has her smirk on her face.

This is a dangerous game.

“Can you help me?” Annabeth questions. The words hang in the air.

Piper isn’t sure how much help she would be. The counter isn’t that far up, but she supposes with only one good foot it would be hard for Annabeth to get the force needed to push herself up. Maybe. She’s never been good at physics. And all while her mind works, more blood is getting on the floor.

“Uh, sure,” she agrees.

A beat passes. Annabeth stares expectantly, an unsaid ‘well?’ resting between them. Piper places her hands gingerly on Annabeth’s hips and a second later, they work together to heft her onto the counter.

Annabeth smiles back at Piper as she gets settled on the cool surface. “See?” Her tone drips flirtatiously, “Was that so hard?”

Piper bites down her cheek. A part of her regrets inviting drunk Annabeth over and letting her get high, but another part of her is caught up in the thrill. As weird as it sounds, this is the least complicated it has felt between them. Or at least, the complications haven’t caught up to them yet. Her mind is only focused on Annabeth’s bloody wound. The fact that Annabeth is watching her like she’s performing life-saving surgery and throwing in silly flirtatious remarks is an added bonus.

Annabeth has scooted back on the counter, so her back is against the wall and her injured foot is dangling into the sink. Already, a couple drops of scarlett have stained the white. Piper switches the cold water on, and without a word, Annabeth slips her foot underneath it.

“I’m sorry,” Piper says as the water begins to run red. “I must not have cleaned all the glass up.”

“I’m not worried about it,” she responds. Her head has fallen back against the wall, strangely content.

“You’re bleeding a lot.”

“Honestly,” the blond pledges, “it doesn’t hurt at all.”

“That’s the drugs working.”

Annabeth laughs, “Probably. I don’t usually feel the bad things around you, though. Or at least, they don’t feel so bad.”

The air suddenly feels hot around them. Piper wishes she had brought one of the water bottles in with her to cool off. She stares down as her hands work on unrolling some gauze. She’s worried what will happen if she looks up at Annabeth’s eyes and sees her dilated pupils. These aren't things she’d say if she were sober. Regret haunts the both of them like an unofficial third party in their relationship already, how are they going to feel tomorrow with clear minds?

Piper clears her throat, turning the water to just a trickle. Annabeth moves her foot so it’s resting on the edge of the counter. They get to work.

Carefully, she first inspects the wound. It’s long, but thankfully pretty superficial. She’s not sure why it bled so much because she doubts it will need stitches. She takes a tube of neosporin, coating a q-tip in it and carefully applying it to the cut. Her hands have miraculously stopped shaking as her fingers move against Annabeth’s skin. She does her best to use featherlight touches, her drunken mind can’t remember if neosporin stings and she doesn’t want to add to the pain.

She looks up for the first time when she goes to swap the old q-tip for gauze and bandages. Annabeth is staring at her, she has been the whole time. Her gaze is heavy under her hooded eyes, the gray of her irises stormier than ever but not out of anger like Piper normally finds them - this is a special, hidden storm, meant only for them.

“What?” Piper asks, her voice shaky.

Annabeth blinks achingly slowly. Her tone is surprisingly airy. “What do you mean ‘what?’”

“You’re looking at me weirdly,” she remarks.

“Hmmm, I haven’t noticed.”

Piper grabs the gauze, carefully pressing it against the cut. She holds it there with one hand, using the other to begin wrapping bandages around the arch of Annabeth’s foot.

“You haven’t noticed?” She repeats, lilting her words into a question.

With Annabeth still watching, Piper tightly continues on with her wrap job. It’s hard, with the position of her hands, and actually takes a lot more thought than she currently was capable of. She can’t help but wonder how much she’s sobered up, if at all. It’s hard to tell when Annabeth is around.

Annabeth shrugs slyly, “No. I was thinking.”

As she finishes with the bandages, Piper presses the metal pin into the bandages to keep it in place on the top of her foot. She wonders for a moment if this was all overkill for a simple cut, maybe a bandaid would’ve been the simplest solution. She pushes that aside, this is better. It won’t get affected and bandaids come off too easily, especially if Annabeth was going to continue her new trend of forgetting shoes.

She packs away the supplies. Annabeth remains perched on the counter like an owl. Her neverending stare has finally settled comfortably over Piper. She’s toying with her, this is all a game of cat and mouse or owl and mouse, if she’s to stick with her similes. It began, unknowingly, when Piper invited her over. Drunk Annabeth can’t help herself but start the game, and Piper can’t help but give in. Neither of them have the good sense to think.

“What were you thinking about?” Piper asks, matching Annabeth’s heavy look.

Annabeth’s smile turns wicked, “You.”

And wasn’t that the answer Piper had hoped for?

“Me?” She feigns surprise.

“Yeah, you,” the blond says with the same cadence as ‘duh?’

Piper wants to say something like ‘how did I get so lucky?’ or something equally as cute, but she can’t. She’s stuck in Annabeth’s words; she’s the mosquito stuck in amber in Jurassic Park.

Annabeth’s head cocks to one side. “You’re corrupting me,” she says confidently.

Piper laughs before she can stop herself. It echoes. “Oh, really? How so?”

Without a beat, there’s an answer. “Uh, well first, I’m incredibly drunk.“

“I had no part in that!”

“I’m high too,” she continues. “I did not plan for that. I don’t think I ever thought about smoking weed. It never appealed to me. And then you - “ she emphasizes this with a poke to the shoulder, “offer it and I can’t say no.”

“You could’ve,” Piper tells her, a little too earnestly for the playful conversation they're having. “I wouldn’t have cared.”

Annabeth is unbothered, “I know. But I wanted to. I wanted to, with you.”

“And what do you think?” She questions. Her heart is beating fast, her chest growing warm with a sense of honor.

“...I see the appeal now.”

They both break into a fit of giggles. It’s blissful. The only sound is their laughter that bounces off the bathroom walls back at them. Piper remembers her thoughts about how this isn’t complicated, not really. It’s simple. She wants to swim in the feeling. It’s been years since Annabeth felt simple. She missed it, perhaps more than she missed Annabeth herself.

Their laughter pauses when Annabeth gets the hiccups. Naturally, that makes Piper laugh more. They sound like a baby’s hiccups, quiet and high-pitched. Her face scrunches up with each hiccup, creating a little valley in between her brows. It looks the same when she laughs.

Piper realizes Annabeth is still on the counter, her feet in the sink. And one of Piper’s hands is resting on her ankle, buoying them together. There’s only a sliver of space in between them. It feels like miles. The laughter hangs in the air but they’ve both stopped. Despite her hiccups, Annabeth’s smile has dipped into a welcoming grin. The spot where their skin meets is crackling.

And so Piper pushes closer, destroying any sense of space between them with a kiss that felt fated from the moment she texted. All the build up, all the false pretense, was foreplay for this one kiss. If Annabeth is surprised, it doesn’t show. She meets Piper with an equal force, her arms snaking past her shoulders and dangling behind her.

It’s similar to their kiss in her bedroom in that it's incomparable to j any other kiss Piper has experienced. It’s frenzied and frantic, like they’d both been hoping this would happen; which she supposes is probably true. Annabeth’s lips taste like champagne with a hint of weed, and Piper imagines that her lips aren’t that much different, but neither care. It’s not neat or sweet, it’s drunk and sloppy, but perfect in its own way. Piper wants to stash it away in the memory book of all their other kisses.

Annabeth leans forward, angling herself nearly off the entire counter. She hiccups against her, a smile spreading onto her lips. Piper steadies them, fingers gripping at her hips and desperate to explore beneath the hem of the forsaken black dress. She restrains herself in an act of god-like control.

Annabeth nips at her lip, it’s sharp and a small pang tells Piper it’ll draw blood. She pulls back slowly, staring inquisitively at the situation they’ve gotten themselves in.

Shyly, Annabeth blushes and bites her own lip, “Sorry.”

Piper wipes at her mouth. “Don’t be.”

She was right. A small drop of scarlett marks her hand. She shows it to Annabeth with a chuckle, “We’re both bleeding.”

“Payback,” she winks.

Annabeth repositions herself on the counter, swinging her feet over the edges so she’s no longer in the sink. She puts her hands on Piper’s shoulders, pulling her back in and blocking her in with legs on either side. Their thighs bump clumsily against each other.

“Can I ask you a question?” Piper asks suddenly, before Annabeth calls action on their making out again. Immediately her mind is telling her to shut the fuck up.

“Are you going to regret this tomorrow?”

A sharp eyebrow raises in response, “Are you going to regret inviting me over?”

Piper runs a tongue over the inside of her lips. She didn’t anticipate this. “No,” she says. Her own certainty surprises her.

A blistering smile descends on Annabeth’s lips. She leans in closer, “Then I won’t either.”

Her breath is hot. Piper’s not sure if she believes her, or even if she believes herself. Maybe they're both lying in a hasty effort to keep the thrill alive. And maybe she’s okay with that. She meant her words as she said them. She has a suspicion Annabeth did too. They’ve never been this unburdened together and so Piper decides not to dwell on what will happen tomorrow, that’s a different day.

So, they start from scratch, both girls eager to savor the time together.

Annabeth’s slow, more intentional. It’s still sloppy and hot, their smoky skin blurring together, but it has the grace of a choreographed dance. For the first time, this is a kiss they are playing equal partners in. Annabeth’s tongue begs for entrance and Piper relents quickly. She relishes in the intimacy, letting her hands explore in the blond locks that have been tied away for the whole night.

They make an odd pairing from afar. Piper in her sweats and a ratty hoodie, mismatching socks on prominent display without her shoes. Her hair is knotted in a raggedy ponytail and her fingernails are dull and chipped. Annabeth is the complete opposite, still in her lavish dress with her shiny hair. Her arms are toned, thin layers of muscle that come and go like the tide. Her lipstick, though faded from before, is leaving glossy marks along Piper’s neck with the thoughtful effort of an artist painting a masterpiece. The only flaw on her entire body is the thick layer of bandages coating the foot that’s tucked behind Piper’s right thigh.

And while Piper had been frozen when she opened the door and saw the blood (which is starting to dry on the floor) she can’t help but admire the way the bandages look on Annabeth’s foot. She took care of her; she put them there. There’s a permanence in the inevitable scar beneath the gauze. Piper gets a sick sense of satisfaction knowing she’s the story behind it.

She won’t regret inviting Annabeth over. She’s not sorry that Hazel and Leo have been sitting by themselves for nearly an hour. She can’t bring herself to regret the broken glass, it led to this moment.

Her single regret is thinking this night was going to end with her and Annabeth being friends.

Chapter Text

The morning arrived quickly. Or at least, once Annabeth’s eyes closed, it seemed like a matter of seconds before they were opening again. She had wanted to savor the night before reality sunk in, but the sunlight streaming in through the thin blanket roof of a pillow fort had other plans.

She expected to awake with a bucket of cold water opening her eyes to the consequences of her actions; either literally at the hands of Piper or figuratively. But the grappling hooks of doubt haven’t arrived. She feels soft. Her insides are melted butter, she’s floating and impervious to any emotion that didn’t revolve around the girl sleeping soundly beside her.

Piper, whose long legs are tangled up in a mess with Annabeth’s, is sleeping on her stomach. On her other side, Hazel is snoring in the same way a kitten would purr. There’s a noticeable difference in how Piper’s sleeping body has arranged itself around Hazel. Their biceps graze each other slightly and a blanket barely covers the both of them. Meanwhile, Piper has a loose arm draped over Annabeth and they are stuck together like glue. She’s facing her with a slightly agape mouth, as if she had fallen asleep sharing a secret.

Miraculously, Annabeth remembers the night as clearly as it was perfect - which is to say she can recall the slightest details. She can still feel the rush of adrenaline when she walked over to the fire, how carefully Piper’s fingers touched her injured foot even while intoxicated, and the way her heart skipped a beat when they both said they weren’t going to regret anything today.

She also remembers the way Hazel and Leo shared a look when they emerged from the bathroom, blushing and recounting the injury as if that explained their prolonged absence.

Annabeth’s too content to dwell on that. Between what rumors might sprout up tomorrow at school and the increasing problem that is her relationship with Percy, there’s enough stress threatening to ruin an otherwise great night. Today, she will savor it. Tomorrow, she’ll start running her risk analyses and addressing the issues at hand.

She has a minor headache drumming at her temporal lobe, and a dry mouth of biblical proportions, but with Piper’s legs and arms pinning her down she has no choice but to stay put. Instead she takes in her surroundings.

While she remembers the night before, she doesn’t know the turn of events that led to her staying the night - especially when she lives less than 20 yards away. She does remember crawling first into the blanket fort. Her drunkenself couldn’t believe the amount of space they managed to give themselves. And now, seeing it sober and in daylight, she can’t understand how the structure had l integrity. According to Hazel, they first assembled it two nights ago and had to add on an addition when Leo joined them.

All that makes her appreciate the beauty of it. The blanket that hung over their heads was thin, but pulled tight, and the morning light coated the sleeping girls in a pink and purple shade. They laid on many layers of pillows and blankets, it felt squishy to her touch like a soft mattress. She didn’t feel like she had slept on the floor.

The blankets they had saved for sleeping were a mismatch of patchwork, graphic designs, and bright colors all telling the stories of who they belonged to. Hazel and Piper had a Power Rangers comforter twisted between them, which Annabeth knew was leftover from Piper’s obsession in elementary school; she wanted so badly to be the Red Ranger. Annabeth, on the other hand, had a homemade quilt that smelt like essential oils. The patchwork displayed a variety of cowboy scenes and a random firefighter’s Maltese cross stuck in the middle.

A commotion from outside the fort caught Annabeth’s attention. She cranes her neck to peek through a small sliver between blankets to see Leo. He got rezoned to the living room recliner upon Annabeth’s decision to stay.

And he’s staring at her, with wide eyes that are strangely alive for so early in the morning. His curly hair is sticking out weirdly from sleep, and he has a giant Squishmellow tightly in his grasps.

“Goodmorning,” he whispers. His face is unreadable.

This is the most time Ananbeth has spent with either Leo or Hazel, and she’d learned a couple things throughout the night. Hazel is sweet, practically child-like in her optimism and kindness. She had welcomed Annabeth without a second glance and laughed easily, sometimes without any prompting. Leo was clearly the source of their entertainment, he basked in the girls’ attention and it spurred him on to do sillier, goofier things. When he went too far, the girls’ were eager to correct him.

But he was much more wary of Annabeth’s arrival, she could tell. His smile stayed wide, his eyes always cheerful, but even drunk she could feel his gaze linger on her and Piper’s interactions. She knew he had dozens of jokes ready to rattle off when they exited the bathroom together, but he didn’t take the bait. And she had a sinking feeling why.

“Hi,” Annabeth responds. She’s suddenly shy.

“Did you sleep okay?”

She blinks, unsure of whether or not he can see Piper’s arm. “Yeah, it feels like a real bed in here.”

“I brought some mattress toppers,” he states plainly.

They stay quiet for a few seconds. Leo keeps his gaze steady and Annabeth forces herself to meet it. She waits for him, she can feel his desire to speak. A dozen conversations pass between the two, but he doesn’t say a word.

Then, he stretches out his arms and yawns. “I’m gonna get some Eggos going,” he announces.

He pops the recliner back down and slips out of his blankets without another glance in Annabeth’s direction. She can hear him begin to patter about in the kitchen as she gets cozy in the tent again.

The smell of waffles is what pulls Piper’s out of her sleep ten minutes later. Her eyes slip open slowly, as if she had wanted to savor last night, too.

Annabeth makes sure to look the other way. The idea of Piper’s first sight in the morning being her, staring at her expectantly, made her feel ill. This whole arrangement feels too good to be true. She managed to capture a rare bird and if she isn’t careful, it will fly away.

“Hi,” Piper’s voice is gravelly. It sends a shiver up her spine.

“Hello,” she replies.

Seconds pass between them. A shot of relief takes her by surprise. Piper doesn’t move, doesn’t slip her legs back onto her side of the pillow fort or remove her arm. It’s a good surprise. Annabeth has adapted to their time being brief collages of stolen moments that end in recoiled touches and tight lips.

“Is Leo making waffles?” Piper asks quietly.

Annabeth looks down at her. She pretends not to get distracted by how adorable the tired look in Piper’s eyes is or the way her dark hair spreads like ink on the white pillow. She only smiles.

“Yeah,” she answers. “He got up a little bit ago.”

A content smile settles onto Piper’s lips. She blinks slowly before rolling onto her back. The spot where her arm rested on Annabeth’s stomach feels empty.

“How did you sleep?” Piper wonders aloud.

Perfect, she almost responds. “Really well,” she opts for instead.

Piper peeks at Annabeth from the corner of her eyes, as if to see if she’s still real.

“Good.”

Annabeth clears her throat quietly, careful not to wake up the still-snoozing Hazel. “Do you remember, uh, last night?”

“Yeah,” she responds in one breath.

“And…?”

Annabeth has read all her life. She’s read the sentence “it felt like an eternity, but must’ve only been seconds,” a gazillion times. But when there’s not an immediate response, her breath hitches in her throat. For the first time, she knows exactly what that feels like.

And then, with the same grace she had used on her foot last night, Piper is slipping a hand into Annabeth’s. She gives it a gentle squeeze.

Joy blooms within her. A swell of heat sends a blush to her cheeks.

“Do you wanna stick around after breakfast?” Piper wonders quietly. “We should talk.”

She thinks of her father, who wasn’t informed that she would be spending the night away from home. The last he had seen of her, she was sitting in the front seat of his car after their father-daughter trip. A normal high schooler would be worried about breaking curfew and getting grounded. She didn’t need to check her phone to know that she wouldn’t have a message from him, her absence will go unnoticed till at least the evening.

“Sure,” Annabeth nods, “Yeah, that sounds good.”

Satisfied with that answer, Piper shifts under her blanket so she’s facing Annabeth.

“Do you like the pillowfort?”

She bites her lip. “I do. It’s impressive, better than all the ones we used to make.”

Something shifts in Piper’s eyes that Annabeth can’t read, and suddenly it’s one of the most annoying feelings she’s experienced. She wants to know what all Piper’s looks mean, the intentions and thoughts behind her actions and words. If Piper is a book, Annabeth wants to be able to recite her pages from memory.

“Well, we were kids who didn’t understand physics,” is all Piper says, in a light tone. “And Leo got way too into it.”

Annabeth smiles at the joke, but her mind is thinking of the nights spent in this very living room, under much sketchier forts. She has the faint memory of stopping to look at the fort last night as she stumbled her way to the bathroom, but her full bladder had distracted her from staying any longer to stare at the ghostly structure and what it had all meant.

Piper is staring at her, waiting to have a real response, but she doesn't know what to say.

“After you - after we stopped hanging out,” she says, “I missed you. A lot. Though, I never would’ve admitted it. And when Hazel and I became friends…It was weird for me. I think in the beginning I tried to get her to do the stuff we used to do, but it never felt the same.”

Annabeth turns over, too, so she’s facing Piper. They’re only inches away. Her words were surprisingly raw for someone who woke up only a couple minutes ago. Hurt was etched into the soft lines of her face. All Annabeth can focus on is the pain she caused.

“We eventually found things Hazel and I both liked doing,” Piper continues. “You can’t force one person to be another, at least not if you want a good friendship. But the pillow forts stuck because they’re fun and Hazel never had a pillowfort-type of childhood.”

Neither did we, Annabeth almost insists. The jealous words catch on her tongue, though, because despite all the pain that forced them both to grow up too quickly, they did have a childhood filled with pillow forts and waterslides. They had both known what it was like to lose a mother too soon and maybe in that, they were able to give each other the childhood they deserved.

Her jealousy dissolves. It was unfounded to begin with, but hearing Piper speak with such certainty she knows that all Piper wanted to do was give Hazel that type of affection. And while Annabeth was gone, Hazel had given Piper that, too. There was no one to blame but herself for missing out.

Annabeth’s eyes once again take in the collage of pillows and blankets. When she smiles, there’s a genuine warmth devoid of all the temporary bitterness.

“I’m glad you were able to have that,” she says. “And I’m sorry that I wasn’t there for it.”

Piper smirks, “If we’re going to be doing…whatever this is, you’re going to have to stop apologizing.”

“But I’m so good at it,” Annabeth argues in a teasing tone. She’s choosing to ignore the vague label of ‘whatever this is.’

“Uh-uh,” she rolls her eyes, “you are now.”

Annabeth’s mouth falls open in fake hurt, “Hmm, I have a lot of time I have to make up for.”

Piper’s eyes narrow with intrigue but before she can say anything, Hazel shifts uncomfortably on her side of the fort. She lets out a muffled groan before propping herself up on one elbow. She turns to face the other two, with her eyes practically shut and a small yawn escaping her lips.

“Is Leo making breakfast?” She asks in a tired voice.

Piper pushes herself up so she’s leaning against the front of the couch. She shares a quick warning look with Annabeth, both of them wondering how long Hazel had been awake. For a split second, she doesn’t care if she had heard it all - it feels good to be reading Piper’s mind again.

“Uh, yeah,” Piper answers her friend. “They should be done. Did you sleep okay?”

Hazel rubs the sleep out of her eyes, “Yes. I have to pee.”

Without another word, she crawls her way out of the fortress. They can hear her feet patter down the hallway. Once she’s gone, Piper sighs.

“I don’t think she heard anything,” she soothes, “but even if she did, no one will say anything to anyone. Especially without interrogating me first.”

Annabeth sits up, pushing the blankets off of her. She’s still in her dress from last night. “I’m not worried about it,” she replies. The words surprise her as she’s saying them. But if she learned anything from last night, it’s that Leo and Hazel weren’t those kinds of ‘friends.’

Piper’s grin is nearly imperceptible, “Good. Let’s go eat.”

“Erm, I think I’m going to run home and change,” she gestures to her outfit. “I’ll come back later, though.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Piper waves her off. “I can get you something.”

Annabeth goes to reject the offer, but Piper is already out of the blankets and disappearing through the homemade entrance. Fighting off her headache, Annabeth pushes herself to her knees and follows.

She finds Piper in her room, digging around in the bottom drawer of her dresser. She watches from the doorway. Her shoulders tense up, suddenly aware of what happened the last time she was standing in Piper’s room. It’s different in the light of day, with the morning sun brightening up the pale purple walls and calling attention to the hand drawn doodles on the dresser.

“You can enter the room,” Piper permits, raising an eyebrow daringly. The contrast in energy from their last encounter under the posters and fairy-lights has already settled Annabeth’s nerves.

“Yeah, okay,” she agrees. She slowly walks her way into the room.

Piper rises to her feet, handing a bundle of clothes over. She cocks her head at her, “These should fit. And there are makeup wipes on the counter in the bathroom.”

“You don’t have to do this,” Annabeth insists. “I live 20 feet away.”

“But then you’d miss breakfast.”

Butterflies float in her stomach at the innocent proposition. She takes the clothes, the fabrics are soft on her fingers and despite herself she can’t wait to get into them.

“Thank you,” is all she can say.

Piper yawns, “No problem. You should probably change the bandage on your foot, too. The first aid kit is still in the bathroom.”

“Will do, Doctor,” Annabeth jokingly salutes.

She rolls her eyes lazily, “We’ll be in the kitchen when you’re done.”

They leave Piper’s room, Annabeth heading into the bathroom and Piper shuffling off to the kitchen. She can’t help but smile when she hears the sound of happy greeting from Leo and Hazel upon Piper’s entrance.

Annabeth doesn’t take long in the bathroom, but makes sure not to be too quick so as to give Piper time to field any oblong glances or questions from her friends. She listens to her instructions, too, making sure to change the bandages on her foot and utilize the makeup wipes. Her dress falls off like it had been waiting all night and her body welcomes the comfortable touch of an old pair of shorts. She was given a worn marching band t-shirt from their freshman year, the neckline is cut with rough edges but it smells like Piper - a calming blend of jasmine and something herby that she can’t quite place.

She emerges from the bathroom a handful of minutes later and tiptoes into the kitchen. She hopes to go unnoticed, but the minute she sidles up to the kitchen island Leo is sliding her a plate with two waffles on it.

“We didn’t know how you liked them,” Hazel explains. “But there’s syrup and some strawberries.”

“You can thank Piper for the strawberries,” Leo adds. “Haze tried to take the rest of them, but Piper insisted you would want them. It was a whole ordeal; a knife was pulled, some words were exchanged, but in the end Hazel was no match for Piper’s charm.”

Annabeth blushes, glancing sideways at Piper who is wincing at the dramatic words. “Oh,” is all she can say. “Thanks, I love strawberries.”

Hazel jokingly huffs, “Me too.”

The gentle teasing among friends continues as Annabeth tucks into her meal. Leo had called the waffles Eggos, but she’s pretty sure he had whipped them up himself because they tasted better than any frozen breakfast she’s had. The strawberries taste extra sweet on her dry tongue.

As she eats, she watches the trio of friends fall into their usual routine. Despite their groggy eyes and ruffled hair, their familiar energy seems to liven up the room. They move like they’ve been tied together their whole life. It’s astounding to think that Piper only joined in on this a handful of years prior.

Hazel sits beside Annabeth, on her second-helping and looking more awake with each bite. Leo is cleaning up his mess at the sink. His shirt is soaked and Hazel makes sure to comment on the large puddle that had formed around the sink and on the floor from his recklessness. Meanwhile, Piper has set up shop in front of the coffee pot and kettle, occasionally throwing in her own quips. Annabeth watches it all like a stranger watching through the window, though it doesn’t feel all so strange. She finds comfort in being welcomed in, but not forced to participate. They’re simply letting her exist. It’s as if they all know how big last night was and the emotional reckoning that is bound to follow.

The message is clear: whatever happens next, Annabeth has a place here.

And sometimes, after Piper throws in her own teasing remark at the expense of her friends, her eyes slide over to Annabeth to gauge her reaction and a glimmer of excitement makes a sly smirk appear on both their faces. It belongs to only them, a secret kept right under the noses of the most watchful eyes.

Leo finishes the dishes and hops up onto the counter right as Piper hands him a mug of steaming coffee. His eyes perk up, accepting the gift without a thank you. No one has said thank you yet, except Annabeth. In this space thank you’s went unsaid but felt. Leo’s cooking and Piper’s coffee and, well Annabeth hasn’t figured out what Hazel does for the group but she’s sure it will become apparent, all of it was simply the norm.

Annabeth is also given a mug of fresh coffee, with a light amount of cream added and she’s surprised to taste a hint of vanilla the way she likes. Hazel receives hot tea that Piper makes a show of adding a specific amount of honey to before passing the liquid over. There’s no doubt in Annabeth’s mind that Leo’s coffee is made precisely how he prefers it. This is the type of person Piper is, someone who remembers favorites and gives without showboating or expecting anything in return.

She can’t help but wonder if this is what it feels like to be a part of something. She’s been on cheer teams and a variety of different councils, but none have made her feel quite as cared for in such a short time.

When all the dishes are cleared and everyone has finished their food, Leo and Hazel bid farewell. Annabeth is pleasantly surprised by the twist of sadness she feels as they begin to collect their belongings. Perhaps she originally liked that they were buffers between her and Piper, but she’s genuinely sorry to see them leave and take their antics with them.

A stale silence falls in the air with their absence. Annabeth is sitting at the kitchen table, now, attempting not to stare in Piper’s direction. The other girl is leaning against the doorway into the living room, stirring her mug of tea awkwardly. Her spoon makes a clicking sound against the side of the cup.

“So…” Annabeth begins shiftily.

“So…” Piper repeats, she blinks a few times. “Do you need anything else to drink? More coffee? I have water, too. Or tea.”

She shakes her head, “No, I haven’t finished my coffee yet.”

“Right,” Piper’s tongue clicks. “Oh, um, how’s your foot?”

“It’s fine,” she answers. She pushes her chair away from the table a little, suddenly feeling a little trapped by the closeness.

“Did you get enough to eat?”

Annabeth smirks a little, “Piper, I’m fine. You wanted me to stay so we can talk, right? Let’s talk.”

Piper clears her throat, setting the mug down on the table and moving closer into the room. The way she shuffles into the room is drastically different than how she floated around the kitchen when Hazel and Leo were around. Her shoulders are tense and her eyes flick around like she’s waiting to be ambushed.

“Okay,” is all she says.

The two girls sit at opposite ends of the table. Annabeth hates it, the distance makes her stomach curl. They look as if they are about to start negotiating a tense business deal that will benefit their individual companies, not discuss the trajectory of their rapidly evolving relationship.

“I guess I probably should’ve asked if you were ready to talk,” Piper finally breaks the silence. “Sorry. I don’t want you to feel trapped.”

Annabeth raises an eyebrow, “What was it you said earlier about apologizing?”

She blushes, “That only applies to you.”

“Uh-huh,” she grins, “well I think the talk was implied when you asked, ‘hey, wanna stay after breakfast so we can talk.’ If I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t have agreed.”

Piper winces shyly, “Okay, fair.”

“Where do you…” Annabeth chews on the inside of her cheek, “I mean, where do we begin?”

“I don’t know,” she answers unhelpfully. “I think you should know I was not thinking about this part when I invited you over last night.”

Despite herself, Annabeth finds a giggle escaping her lips. “Yeah, I know. It became clear somewhere between receiving the text and watching you try to clean broken glass in the dark.”

“Touché.”

“I meant what I said,” she says slowly, “I don’t regret coming over. Or anything that happened last night. I know that means I have a lot to figure out, but I want to figure it out. For both of us - and Percy.”

Piper nods, “I don’t want to rush anything. Especially…you’re coming out or whatever you decide.”

“I appreciate that,” is her earnest response. “Did Leo and Hazel have any questions?”

A loving smile slips onto Piper’s lips. She raises a phone, “Not in person, but the group chat is kinda blowing up right now.”

From across the table, Annabeth can see the green messages popping up onto Piper’s lockscreen. She knows she should be focused on what the questions are and how to field them, but her eyes instead are trying to make out Piper’s lock screen photo. It’s an old polaroid, a young Piper sitting on her mother’s lap while her hair gets braided.

“What are you going to tell them?” She questions.

Piper stares back at her, “What do you want me to tell them?”

Annabeth curses their developing habit of answering important questions with equally important questions. It evokes a fear she didn’t know she had until recently - running in laps around the actual issues. She’s discovered through hours of overthinking how easy it is to circle the answers and settle in a place of doubt.

And here is her opportunity, handed on a silver platter, to stop treading water.

“The truth,” she says. Her voice sounds different in her own ears, as if she’s already doubting her commitment.

Piper’s eyes widen, she attempts to hide it quickly but fails. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Annabeth confirms. “I mean, maybe ask them to keep it on the downlow for a while but…yeah, tell them the truth.”

“Okay,” Piper graces her with a supportive smile. She stays off her phone, though, which Annabeth appreciates. She doesn’t need to be around for their responses, even if she’s sure their reactions will be focused on what this meant for Piper more than herself.

“It’s cool that you trust my friends,” she tacks on with a playful gleam in her eyes. “I mean, like, trust them enough to be the first to know about something so huge.”

Something so huge. It repeats on a loop in Annabeth’s mind. She pushes it aside.

“They aren’t the first to know,” she replies simply.

Piper looks surprised. “Really?”

“Will Solace figured it out and has been helping me.”

“How?”

“Our fight,” Annabeth answers.

Piper nods, as if that all makes sense. “Our fight.”

Silence ensues once more. The gravity of what Annabeth has decided weighs heavy with confusion. The table between them feels miles long, she wishes she could reach out and take her hand but she has a sinking feeling that the space was intentional.

“What about Percy?” Piper asks. She’s avoiding eye contact and her voice is shaky.

She purses her lips, “I’ll handle it.”

“How?”

Annabeth wishes she knew. She wishes she had an answer to give that didn’t make her stomach churn and wouldn’t hurt anyone. That simply wasn’t the situation she finds herself in. She feels the familiar burn of tears stinging at the corner of her eyes and tip of her nose. The idea of standing before Percy and revealing her guilt makes being buried alive look better by each passing second.

It doesn’t help that in her mind they sit in a confessional at church, his face shrouded by the divider and her words coming out more coldly confident. It almost seems like a better alternative than reality, until the actual confession unfolds and even the divider can’t hide the betrayal.

She swallows, “I don’t know yet, but I’ll handle it.”

“Can you not make it sound like you’re going to take him out back with a shotgun?” Piper suggests.

The joke doesn’t land. Annabeth sighs, wiping at her eyes. “That’s not funny. I basically am.”

“Oh, don’t be dramatic,” Piper insists. “Percy loves you.”

“Yes, exactly,” she bites back. “A-and I love him, too. You don’t do this to someone you love.”

A beat of tense silence follows. Piper chews on her lips thoughtfully before scooching out of her chair. She shuffles over to the seat closest to Annabeth, sitting down without a word. Annabeth eyes her up cautiously. She wasn’t expecting dismissive jokes from Piper today, nor would she have pegged Piper as the kind to make them in the first place. They cut deeper coming from her lips.

“I’m sorry,” the other girl says, as if she could read Annabeth’s mind. “I didn’t mean for it to sound like that.”

“How else was it supposed to sound?” Annabeth is genuinely curious. “This isn’t easy. You found Hazel when we stopped hanging out, and I found Percy. He’s going to be heartbroken.”

Annabeth doesn’t add what her heart is already feeling - that she might be heartbroken too. On top of all the confusing emotions she’s confronting for the first time, in addition to all the good that Piper makes her feel, she’s going to be grieving the life she knew and the loss of Percy.

She’s not sure the other girl, who's caught up in her own desires and excitement, is grasping how much is going to change for Annabeth. She doubts Percy is going to be on board for their New York plan once the big scarlet letter is pinned to her chest, and if her parents find out she can basically kiss any financial assistance goodbye.

Piper bears a grim look on her face. She leans forward. “I just meant that he loves you, and that makes this situation horrible, but he isn’t going to stop loving you because of this. If you’re truthful with him about the…circumstances, I think he’ll understand.”

“Circumstances?”

“Yes,” she reconfirms. “The gay circumstances.”

Annabeth rolls her eyes at the silliness, but nods anyway. “I just wish I had seen this coming. I could’ve prepared.”

“It’s part of your story,” she replies matter-of-factly. “We don’t see it coming and can’t change how it happens, but we can change how it ends.”

Piper grabs her hand quickly. It takes Annabeth by surprise, she nearly jumps. Goosebumps create peaks and valleys along her arms. As they sit, one hand mending them together, Annabeth softens into her touch.

“Take as long as you need,” Piper tells her in an earnest tone. Her hand squeezes. “And don’t make a decision based on…this. All you can do is what feels right.”

Another sigh. “I know.”

Piper leans back in her chair. Her face switches, suddenly more guarded. “All I ask is that you keep me in the loop,” her voice is sharp, but not rude. Her intent is clear, what she is saying is non-negotiable.

“I want you to figure out what is best for yourself. But I don’t want to be some sort of experiment while you do. And I sure as hell won’t be a shameful secret,” she runs a hand through her hair. “Communicate, I guess, as best as you can. And I will, too. We can work ‘us’ out together, when we’re ready.”

Annabeth feels a satisfying sense of relief, like letting go of a breath she’s been holding for too long. She doesn’t deserve this grace, she’s well aware of that. But she didn’t know until now how much panic she was holding within. Fear that Piper was going to decide she’s too much work, too much stress for little reward. Scared that she might change her mind about forgiveness, letting things go right back to the way they were a couple months ago when Annabeth would catch sight of Piper walking to the music store and feel a deep pang within her ribcage.

But she can’t tell Piper all of that. It's too overwhelming to say this quickly. Instead, she blinks dutifully. “I can do that. Thank you.”

“And, for what it’s worth,” Piper slips in, “if Percy is your Hazel…maybe the love you have for him isn’t what you thought it was.”

Chapter Text

Annabeth leaves shortly after their conversation. It’s painstakingly awkward as Piper walks her guest to the door, the only sound is their footsteps in the quiet house. All the important words had been said and they drained the room of any comfortability. An outsider would never have been able to guess their lips had been glued to each other the night before. Despite how necessary it had been to get them out of the way, Piper already feels a gnawing guilt and worry - what if addressing the situation so plainly had squashed the spark she had felt?

“See you later,” Annabeth squeaks out, tossing a look over her shoulder to Piper as she steps out of the house.

Piper blinks, “You too. Uh, take care of yourself.”

She isn’t sure what more to say. Somehow they had cleared a lot of things up, Piper had drawn some boundaries, and still a huge question mark loomed over what was going to happen next. A question mark that, from here on out, could only be answered by Annabeth in her own time. It was enough to make the waffles churn in Piper’s stomach.

With a polite smile, Annabeth begins to cross the yard back to her own house. She’s wearing the shirt and shorts Piper had loaned her. A weird flicker of emotion, something similar to pride, tickles the inside of her heart at the idea of Annabeth owning something that was once her’s. Would Percy smell her perfume on her later?

The tickle is quickly eclipsed by guilt. Piper sighs, shutting the door behind her. A lot of the mess of blankets and pillows remains in the living room, but she quickly decides that is a problem for later. Wearily, she makes her way back to her own bed to tuck in for the rest of the morning. And hopefully evade her warring thoughts for that much longer.

~*~*~*~

“Piper!” A voice’s shout echoes through the house. Followed quickly by a hasty knock at her door, that confirms she’s awake.

By the time her eyes are opening, a flushed Tristan is standing in her dark doorway. His eyes are drawn with exhaustion, but red-alert as they find her snuggled up under her blankets. She rolls over in confusion, watching as his shoulders relax.

“Is everything okay?” He asks, his voice still slightly raised.

She rubs her eyes and yawns, “Yeah, is everything okay with you?”

“Why is there blood on the floor in the bathroom? And in the sink?” He skips her question.

Piper frowns, “Oh, nothing bad. Someone cut themselves at the fire last night.”

A look of relief flushes onto Tristan’s weathered face. He nods, “Good, good, then let’s clean it up? Before it stains the tile.”

She pushes her blankets off her with a yawn, “Yeah…”

“I’ll help,” he offers, “but I have tons of questions that you’re gonna have to answer.”

“Have to?” She questions with an eyebrow quirk.

Tristan chuckles, “I believe it’s legally required in the Parental Right to Information Act of whatever year you were born.”

“Ha ha,” she sarcastically retorts as she passes him in the doorway.

When she opens the bathroom door, she discovers that two bottles of cleaning solution and a couple rags are already laid out on the counter.

Piper smirks, “So you already knew everything was okay and planned your ‘parental information’ thing ahead of time?”

Tristan appears beside her, laying a friendly hand on her shoulder. “I had hoped. If there was a real incident, I had a Plan B.”

“Which was?”

“The plot of Taken.”

This time Piper’s laugh is genuine as she claims her own bottle and rag, sinking to her knees to take care of Annabeth’s bloody footprints. By now they had turned a deep maroon and crusted onto the tile.

Tristan tasked himself with whatever stains had been left on the counter and in the sink. There’s a silence filled with the spray of their bottles for a while, before Tristan clears his throat.

“So,” he began, “who cut their foot? Leo?”

“Surprisingly not,” Piper replied. “It was, erm, actually Annabeth - Annabeth Chase.”

Her father stops what he’s doing for a moment, giving her a shocked look over his shoulder.

“Annabeth?” He repeats, “Like, next door Annabeth?”

Piper doesn’t say anything, only nods.

Tristan whistles, “Color me surprised. I thought you guys had a weird falling out that hormone-infused you wouldn’t talk to me about.”

“I still won’t,” she adds.

“You don’t have too,” he grants, “you don’t even have to tell me what led to her coming over.”

Piper grins, “Okay, good. It was, well, a bit of a shock to me, too.”

“Did you have fun?”

Her throat dries up and a hollow cough escapes her lips. “Yeah, uhm, we all did. I think. Hopefully.”

If her voice sounded hoarse or unsure, Tristan didn’t pause on it. Instead he smiles down at her fondly.

“I’m glad,” he begins scrubbing hard at something on the counter. “Annabeth was always very polite. And she made you smile. For what it’s worth, your mom really loved her too.”

Of course, Piper thinks. Dove had always had a soft spot for Annabeth. It feels like a sucker punch to the stomach, but she can remember all the rants that Piper wasn’t supposed to overhear about how suspicious she was of Frederick. It paints a lot of memories in a different light, like Dove’s insistence of Annabeth coming on their few m vacations to visit family in Oklahoma or her consistent willingness for the girls to have a sleepover - even on school nights.

She can recall one day in particular, only a short while before Dove got her diagnosis. Dove was cleaning the house while Piper worked on whatever homework an older elementary school student would be assigned. The pleasant tones of Elliott Smith and the occasional Nick Drake radiated through the kitchen, Dove’s quiet singing along was a comfort that Piper still misses.

“Pipes, honey, can you run the recycling bin to the curb quick?” Dove asked over the music.

Little Piper groaned, but set down her pencil and dutifully went out to the garage to grab their full recycling bin. She wheeled the bin down their driveway. Outside she could still hear the quiet remnants of the music in the house.

Piper pushed the recycling bin to a stop and dusted off her hands. She was about to head back inside when next door, her attention was caught by a tiny Annabeth. The young girl sat on the curb in front of her house. In her hands, she was playing with a stick to prod something on the ground.

“Annabeth?” Piper called. They had spent the entire previous day together, but the sight of her still makes her spine tingle with excitement.

At the sound of her name, Annabeth glanced up. A dim smile spreads onto her lips. Her grey eyes are tinged with red.

Piper closed the distance between their two yards. “What are you doing out here?” She wondered.

Annabeth shrugged, her eyes glance behind her for a brief moment. “Didn’t want to be in there,” she grumbled under her breath.

“Oh,” Piper understood immediately, “wanna talk about it?”

Glumly, the other girl shook her head. “Not really.”

Unsure of what to do, Piper picks up her own stick and starts pushing around the same dirt Annabeth had been messing around with.

It was a calm spring night. Only a few cars passed through their quiet neighborhood while they sat there. The sun hung low in the sky and Piper can still remember the smell of barbecue that came in with the breeze.

It was one of the first times Piper can remember a now familiar emotion - the yearning to want to help, the desire to do anything physically within her power in order to make someone special to her feel better. A fix-it mindset that gets that much more frustrating the older you get, and the reality sets in that sometimes there isn’t much you can do.

“We can go inside,” she suggested. “My mom is cleaning and I have to finish my homework, but then we can play Ghosts in the Graveyard or something..”

Annabeth sighs, “I don’t know. That’s no fun with two people.”

“Yeah,” Piper wracked her brain for some other type of distraction.

“Let’s go for a walk,” she stood up. “I’ll run inside and let my mom know. We can walk to the corner store and get something to drink or something.”

“Sure,” Annabeth gave in.

Piper smiled happily. Quickly, she jogged back to the house. She ripped open the interior garage door and poked her head into the kitchen.

“Mom, can I - “ she begins to ask.

Dove has already met her at the door. She’s counting a small wad of cash in her hands.

“Here’s some money for Annabeth too,” she said sweetly, pressing some of the money into her daughter's hands. “Don’t be gone too long, it’s a school night.”

Piper smiled back at her, “Thanks.”

Looking back at the unearthed memory now, Piper has her suspicions that Dove had seen Annabeth out there and had intentionally tasked Piper with the recycling that night. Normally if she was doing her homework, she could get out of her chores.

“That’s right, Mom loved her,” Piper confirms fondly.

“Whatever led to your reunion, I hope it goes well,” Tristan continues. “You guys were attached to the hip at one point. Friendship like that - friendship that can endure - that’s something to keep around.”

Piper smiles softly as she finishes up her cleaning on the ground. “Thanks, yeah.”

Tristan stands up, tossing his dirty rag at Piper. She barely dodges it with a roll of her eyes.

“You should invite her over for dinner sometime,” he suggests. “It’ll be nice. I’ll make whatever she wants.”

She wants to protest for the sake of how awkward the dinner sounds, but deep down she knows her father feels a duty to take over keeping an eye on Annabeth’s wellbeing now that they are on good terms. It was his way of carrying on what Dove would’ve wanted.

“I’ll see if she’s down,” Piper agrees. Secretly, she’s not putting a deadline on it, though. She can’t imagine shooting Annabeth a text after their conversation this morning with an invite to a personal dinner with Tristan.

“Cool,” Tristan grins happily.

“Anything else you need to grill me about?”

As if jolted by lightning, Tristan winces dramatically. “That’s right! I do. I almost forgot.”

Piper chuckles at his bit. He drops it almost immediately.

“Any idea what happened to the Mike’s Hard Lemonades that had been sitting in the garage fridge for three months?” He narrows his eyes.

“Oh,” she deadpans. “About that, uhm…”

Tristan blinks, “That’s what I thought. You suck at sneaking around.”

Piper puts on a smile, “C’mon Dad. Leo brought the weed, I couldn’t let him bring the drinks, too.”

“I can’t tell if you’re joking or not,” he frowns, “and I hate playing the lame dad card, but don’t do drugs. And don’t drink and drive. Be safe and all that.”

She nods repeatedly, “Yes, Dad. Always.”

He puts his hands up in defense, “I know you’re smart and capable and super independent. But I’m still your dad, and as a first responder, a beacon of safety in this town. ”

“The best beacon of safety I know,” Piper winks playfully.

Tristan hums, “Alright, lame dad routine over. Anything else eventful happen at the bonfire?”

She thinks about it, “Uh, Leo turned the fire cool colors.”

“Hell yeah,” he grins, “love that trick. I got some others I can show him sometime.”

“If you want to continue to enforce safety in this town, that’s not a good idea.” Piper gets to her feet, “I’m going to go get dressed and stuff.”

“Alright kiddo, I’m going to sneak in a quick nap before the pancake dinner tonight.”

Piper nods, “Have fun with that. I’ll be at Trinity’s.”

He starts out the door towards his room, “Don’t work too hard.”

“Bring me home some pancakes!” She calls after him.

She doesn’t hear a response, and quickly debates whether or not she should send him a text reminder. She refrains. After all, they had pancakes that morning.

Instead, she heads back to her room and quickly changes into some clean, comfortable clothes. At this point, she had been in her old pair for nearly three days and the fresh clothing made her feel revitalized. She packed her normal ‘Going to Trinity’s bag’ which consisted of her flute, chapstick, a bottle of water, a couple of snacks and cooler clothes to change into. Trinity keeps the temperature of the store either Antarctic cold or as suffocating as the desert.

The walk to the music store was refreshing. She took the time to scroll through the hundreds of texts Hazel and Leo had flooded the group chat with. Most of them were relatively calm texts begging for more details about the night before, random links to unrelated videos or social media posts, but as she got to the more recent texts they got more rabid.

“If you don’t respond soon we’ll be forced to send in the troops” Hazel said at one point.

The last text was from Leo:

So did you and Annabeth fuck in the bathroom??

Piper freezes to a halt. Her body is split between choking and wanting to laugh. Quickly, she shoots back promises to get them caught up to date at school the next day. She made sure to keep the tone light and threw in some emojis to let them know nothing has gone completely wrong.

Almost immediately Leo replied.

I’m not hearing that you didn’t fuck Annabeth in the bathroom. ;)

She rolls her eyes, shoving her phone into her bag and pushing the door to the music store open. She’s hit with a gust of warm air that wraps her in a hug. It’s tinted with the faintest scent of cleaning supplies, implying that either Trinity or, more likely, Austin had been tasked with polishing the brass instruments rather recently.

As Piper shoulders her bag higher and begins her walk to the private back room, she notices a tall man in a
suit holding a briefcase. He’s admiring a painting of Bob Dylan that a local artist had made. It’s been hanging here on sale for a couple years now. It’s not bad, Piper thinks it’s actually well done, but she’s too busy eying up the suspicious man to linger longer on the thought.

It’s not his behavior that’s suspicious. He doesn’t seem to be uneasy or jittery, like someone about to commit a crime might appear to be. Clearly he isn’t dressed like an assailant, and anywhere else the navy suit and maroon tie wouldn’t draw attention, but this is Miss Trinity's music shop. It’s a haven for alternative folk of all types to come and express themselves, although it’s not explicitly stated, this is a safe space for anyone that’s ‘othered’ in society.

A man in a suit, moreover a white man in a suit, isn’t a statement piece in Trinity’s recurring clientele. He’s not unwelcome, but it does make Piper feel a little on edge. She halts herself by the door at the back of the shop, wondering how long she can get away with watching this man before he catches on.

Her conscious scolds her. This man could simply be a father, maybe a single dad like her own, attempting to get his rapidly-growing child into music. Perhaps he had an appointment at the eye doctors nextdoor or is waiting for his pickup order at the sandwich shop that also qualifies as nextdoor, meandering around here to kill time before they are ready.

Trinity appears seemingly out of nowhere. She’s managing to flow graciously in her caftan, despite the still injured state of her ankle. A manila envelope is grasped in her calloused hands. She hands it over to the Suit Man with a grateful smile on her lips. Trinity was always smiling, especially through bad news. Her laugh lines and crow’s feet are hopefully the only collateral damage.

The two exchange words, looking like whatever the opposite a mirror image of each other would be. They appear more like that album cover, Piper can’t remember which one but she’s pretty confident it’s Pink Floyd. The one where a business man shakes hands with an astronaut on a film lot, with one of them burning alive. Yeah, that was more like what she was witnessing.

A kind smile is returned by the Suit Man. He takes a moment to put whatever Trinity had provided into his briefcase, before sharing a professional smile once more and walking out the store.

Miss Trinity waits a beat and watches the man leave, an unreadable expression hidden behind her eyes. Quickly Piper opens the private door and ushers herself inside before she can be questioned about her staring.

Only moments later, Trinity floats into the room like nothing was abnormal.

“Good evening, my dear Pip,” she greets in a sing/song voice.

“Back at ya,” Piper returns. She’s working on assembling her flute as her instructor makes herself comfortable in the large chair.

Trinity tucks a loose tendril of graying hair behind her ear. It’s one of few signs that show something is off. Anyone else might not have noticed, but Piper has spent years in this back room. While Trinity is a carefree spirit with an open mind and lack of judgement that can warm the coldest of hearts, she also holds her self to a specific set of standards - no hair out of place being one of them.

Piper doesn’t bring any attention to it. Instead, she clicks her flute pieces into one another and takes her place in front of the music stand. Two can play this game.

She hands an extra sheet of music to Trinity so she can follow along. Trinity rambles about some things that happened since the last time they’ve seen them while she gets herself comfortable on the chair and sets up a little table to set her tea on.

Once she gives the signal, Piper lifts the flute to her lips and begins to play. Like always, reality seems to melt away as the notes ring true in the air. This particular piece is fast and complex in its movements and shifting pitches, proving to be an endless pain in the neck for Piper. One session, she’ll completely nail it and go to repeat the perfection, only for the notes to fall flat or to miss a progression.

It’s frustrating to say the least. Music has always been a getaway for Piper, and while she finds comfort in the work she puts in, it doesn’t always fix everything like it used to. She’s equally stressed with an overcrowded mind when she finishes, and on top of that, music is adding to it. Playing is no longer as mindless as it used to be. She’s overthinking the notes, the breath control - name an aspect of performing music live and she’s wracked her brain over how to improve and what would happen if she didn’t.

Halfway through the song, Miss Trinity raises a calm hand. She has the familiar soft grin on her face that prefaces critique.

Piper halts her playing, setting the flute down. She takes this time to catch her breath and grab a sip of water.

“My Pip,” she begins, “take a breather. You’re playing frantic.”

She nods, swallowing a large gulp of cold water.

“Sorry,” she murmurs. “Let’s go again. I’ll slow it down.”

Trinity shakes her head, “No. It wasn’t you’re tempo that is the issue, you are rushing yourself to master this piece. Music isn’t meant to be rushed, it’s meant to be enjoyed. Not just for the audience, but for yourself, too.”

Piper sighs, trying to hide her wince. She isn’t exactly sure what her mentor was getting at, but at this point in their dynamic Piper has learned not to doubt whatever wise words are thrown at her.

“You’re doing yourself a disservice by putting this pressure on yourself,” she continues. “You play because you’re having fun, not to get into Juilliard. Get out of your head, and into the music.”

“Yes, of course.”

Trinity winks at her, “Start again, only when you’re ready.”

Piper raises her flute to continue, but stops herself inches from her lips. She sets the instrument back down on the music stand.

“I actually have a question for you,” she says.

A curious glint appears in Trinity’s eyes. “Of course, how can I help?”

The courage that beat within her momentarily faded into a sudden rush of anxiety. She isn’t sure how this was going to play out.

“Well, um, I saw you talking with that business man,” Piper began. “I was, er, wondering what that’s about.”

Miss Trinity briefly averts her gaze, “You’re a smart girl, Pip. I didn’t think you would notice, but of course you did.”

“Sorry,” she grumbles, staring at her feet.

“Don’t be,” Trinity remarks immediately. “Truthfully, you saved a lot of hassle by bringing it up.”

A pit of worry dropped into Piper’s stomach. This was a new voice her mentor was using, a tone that sounded reserved and hesitant.

“Oh god,” she frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” Trinity says, but then she rethinks it. “Well, a lot, actually. You shouldn’t worry, though. It’s all on me.”

This doesn’t assuage Piper. “What do you mean?”

Miss Trinity runs her tongue over her lips. “The man you saw was my lawyer. I was updating my will and testament.”

Piper has to swallow back a large chunk of vile from escaping her throat. Her palms grow clammy.

“I had some questionable test results while I was seeing the doctor for my ankle,” Trinity begins to explain when it becomes clear that Piper wasn’t emoting.

“Nothing too concerning has shown up yet, but I’m getting more tests done. I’m seeing an oncologist soon. I wanted to make sure I have all my affairs in order, as a precaution, of course.”

Piper chews on her lips, “How concerned should we be right now?”

Trinity sighs gently. “I haven’t got a death sentence yet, and as far as I’m concerned, that’s all I need to keep hold to a little hope.”

“Alright,” she hums, still lost in thought.

“I will let you know when we get conclusive results, deal?”

It’s hard for Piper not to think of how quickly she lost her mother. One moment, Dove was tucking Piper into bed and painting their nails together. The next, she was being lowered into the ground and Piper was gripping to her dad’s hand for dear life. Trinity could never replace Dove, no one could, but in her life of limited adult figures, she was one of the last remaining. Piper can’t lose her, too.

“There is something else I want you to know,” Trinity cuts into her thoughts. Her tone has lifted upwards. “And it’s a little more exciting.”

Piper puts on a brave face, “Okay, shoot.”

“Part of updating my will and testament meant sorting out my possessions,” Trinity said. “I don’t have a whole lot, I’ve always favored myself a bit of a minimalist when it came to my personal life. However, there’s the matter of the store.”

“Oh, yeah,” Piper nodded. She isn’t sure how this pertains to her.

Trinity eyes glisten fondly, “As you know, my husband passed away years ago. We never had children, and I’m the black sheep of my family.”

Piper continues to listen intently. Trinity hardly spoke about her husband and he had passed long before Piper had first come into the store. For the rest of Trinity’s family, she knew very little beyond the fact that they aren’t close and her group of siblings had followed a traditional path to success in the form of doctors, lawyers and a chef.

“Unfortunately that means in the event of my death, the store would either go on public sale for any vendor to buy - leaving the future of this place up in the air. They could continue running it, or make it into anything their heart desires.”

“That’s gross!” Piper argued immidiately. “You’ve made this place the music Mecca here, it’s an institution. They can’t just take it.”

Trinity smiles warmly, “I agree and I’m flattered. In fact, that’s why I’m bringing it up with you now. I’ve spoken with my lawyer, as you know, and I’ve decided to leave the store to you.”

Piper chokes. She coughs a little. “Oh, um, that’s really out of the blue.”

“I know this sounds overwhelming and like a lot to handle, but the way I’ve worked it out you wouldn’t be running day to day operations,” Trinity explains. “My lawyer and I will hire someone who can handle that. You would be able to commit to your studies and go wherever life takes you. You would be making a profit, and can drop in whenever you please. And, you can take as much or as little control as you want.”

“I don’t know what to say,” she admits truthfully.

Trinity lays a hand on her gently, “Take your time to think it over. Speak with your father about it, too. We have no rush. You’re who I trust to continue this legacy; and honestly the store runs itself. I have a great staff. Think of it as a passive income.”

“I’ll think it over,” Piper promises in a wavering tone. “What if something goes wrong, though, and like everything burns up or we get robbed?”

“That’s what insurance is for, and we have that,” her mentor laughs. “But I suspect the large sum of money I will also be leaving you would cover any unforeseen accidents that might arise.”

Piper shakes her head, “No, you can’t leave me both. I’m not an adult. I wouldn’t know what to do.”

“You know more about my vision for this place than anyone else. As for the money, if I don’t leave it to you, the government will take it. And that’s weird.”

She makes a compelling argument. There’s something still gnawing at her conscious.

“This isn’t right,” Piper decides. “You’re talking like you aren’t planning to fight this.”

Trinity blinks for a long time.

“I can’t make any promises,” she answers. “If it’s plausible that we can beat it, I’ll do my best. But…I’ve lived a long and happy life. I don’t want to spend the rest of it in pain.”

Piper feels her throat constrict. The corners of her eyes begin to sting as the tears that were progressively welling up threaten to spill.

She can’t argue, obviously. It’s Trinity’s life, and Piper honestly isn’t sure how old she is. It wouldn’t be fair to beg her to sit through treatment after treatment so Piper wouldn’t have to lose someone else. It wouldn’t be fair to friends and family either. Letting her take the easy way out would save everyone from seeing her in pain, and their last images hopefully wouldn’t be struggling to work up the energy to speak in a hospital room.

She wonders how long Trinity would’ve kept this information to herself had Piper not seen her. Then again, if Trinity really didn’t want her secret out so soon, she wouldn’t have arranged the meeting with her lawyer in the middle of her store.

Her store, not Piper’s. How is Piper supposed to go chasing her own goals and dreams, when this is what Trinity wants and clearly means the world to her. This is her legacy, it could be Piper’s too. Is that what she wanted?

Trinity made it clear that she didn’t need to have an active role, but did a limited role reflect how Piper truly felt about the store? She loves it. Does she love it more than the uncertainty of Juilliard?

“Pip,” Trinity breaks into Piper’s inner monologue. “You’re overthinking this. I could be totally fine, and in that case, this was a semi-morbid discussion to prepare for the distant future and has no real effect on your today or tomorrow. Just make sure you talk to your dad and we’ll go from there.”

Those words do wash relief over Piper’s sweaty body. She gives a grim smile. “You’re right,” she agrees, “you always are.”

Trinity chuckles, “How about we take a break from your exhaustive application pieces and play something you are fond of. Maybe a song with a happy memory, or one that is just fun to play?”

A genuine warmth temporary pushes all the worry to the back of her mind.”I think I have one.”

~*~*~*~

They play only happy songs in practice after that. Piper does attempt her toughest application piece one time at the end, just to doublecheck that hidden progress hadn’t been made.

It hadn’t.

“You’ll get there,” Trinity promises. “Keep trying.”

Piper packs her equipment back up after the rigid failure of a performance. She turns her phone off don’t disturb, tucking it back in her pocket before grabbing some of her other belongings.

As she coasts past her, Trinity presses a loving kiss on the back of her forehead. She’s done this since before Piper could remember. It’s always comforting. She can’t imagine a world that doesn’t have Trinity’s familial touches.

“Remember,” Trinity calls as Piper opens the store door. “Music is fun.”

Easier said than done, she wants to grumble. She holds it back with much effort.

Piper is barely across the parking lot when her phone starts to blow up with lengthy, capitalized messages from both Leo and Hazel. They spammed the group chat with all of them, and for good measure flooded their invidual texts threads, too.

She’s typing out her reply to the group chat when her messenger is replaced with a large photo of Leo’s curly hair and lopsided smirk. In the photo, he’s sitting on top a closed trash can for whatever reason.

“What’s the emergency?” She questions as she answers the video call.

Leo and Hazel are both on her screens. They appear to be parking Leo’s car somewhere and are both trying to push into the frame.

“Buckle your seat belt,” Leo announces.

Hazel smiles sheepishly, “Please keep in mind that we still don’t have a clue what happened with you last night. And as such, we’re not sure how important this information might be to you.”

“Alright,” Piper sucked in a breath. A pound of metaphorical concrete landed on her chest. She doesn’t need additional bad news. “Let me find a place to sit first. The store is about to close.”

“Ugh fine,” Leo half-heartedly agrees.

“Ignore him,” Hazel urges, “he’s not used to having sensitive information.”

Piper chuckles. She walks a block and a half until she finds a nice enough bench under the streetlights. The sun is beginning to set, but in case she gets stuck listening to their news longer than she anticipates, she can feel safe. Crime isn’t high in their town, if it was she wouldn’t be allowed to walk to the music shop. It settled her own nerves. While she walks, Leo and Hazel chatter aimlessly.

She sits on the bench, “I’m ready. I think.”

Leo doesn’t miss a beat. “ANNABETH AND PERCY BROKE UP!”

Piper stalls. Her brain is an engine and the ignition won’t light. After their talk this morning, she never imagined that changes would happen quickly. That was the one bittersweet comfort she had left after their conversation. Of course, things would be simpler if Annabeth made some life decisions now, but it also meant their dynamic would change - quite publicly. She didn’t realize the safety that came with a delay.

“We don’t know that for sure,” Hazel added on. “They were at the pancake dinner. Annabeth was a little late, she looked like she was sick. Things seemed awkward in the beginning and then -“

“ - and then Annabeth started crying and shouting and Percy was bright red and yelling something back. His yelling was a lot quieter, I didn’t get everything he said. Annabeth left in hurry after that,” Leo cuts in eagerly. His impatience would be charming to Piper if what he was saying didn’t make her stomach tie up in knots.

Piper struggles to process the new information. It came through her ears like a code and her brain was a computer that couldn’t keep up.

“What did Annabeth say?” She wonders tentatively.

Hazel blinked, “That she didn’t want to be at the pancake dinner with him and that he can be smothering. She wants some space.”

Ironic, Piper thinks to herself, that she was using the same method that Piper had used on her.

“And that she still loves him,” Leo adds with a pointed glance.

“Wow, okay,” is all she manages to say.

“Now would be a great time to fill us in on the bathroom situation from last night,” Hazel prods in a light tone. Piper bristles, but knows her friends are right.

Leo smirks, “Did you fuck Annabeth Chase in the bathroom?” His fingers are crossed at the bottom of the screen in a poor attempt to hide them from her view.

Hazel strikes him roughly in the shoulder. He winces away, rubbing his shoulder.

“No,” Piper explains. “I’ll tell you what happened but you can’t tell anyone. Seriously.”

Her best friends nod solemnly and murmur their agreement. Although Leo is bouncing up in down in his seat, which can’t be hidden in the small car their sitting in. Piper, still sitting on the park bench, takes a moment to make sure no one is around that could overhear.

“Annabeth and I made out last night,” she says slowly.

Leo fist pumped the air, “I knew it! That girl woke up with the guiltiest look at her face. Like I would be upset that she played tonsil hockey with my friend or something.”

“I wouldn’t have guessed,” Hazel admitted. “She’s so…straight-laced. Not that that means she can’t be gay, I just figured she’d be clueless to that side of her.”

Piper understands what her friends are saying. If she hadn’t grown up with Annabeth and had found this news out, she would assume that a life of heteronormative pressure from Frederick and classic comp-het would mix together to build a complex wall in Annabeth’s mind. And that’s if Piper even got to the point of assuming the most popular, stereotypical girl in school was anything other than straight.

“Annabeth’s not gay,” Piper corrects. “Or at least, she’s not sure yet. She’s still figuring out it.”

“…because she still loves Percy?” Leo raises an eyebrow.

“Yes, because of that and other things.”

Hazel nods, “We understand. We won’t say anything.”

Piper smiles gravely, “I know you won’t. Thank you. Annabeth gave me permission to tell you, but we are part of a handful of people who know. If this gets around school, it won’t be hard to figure out who.”

“We got this,” Leo promises. Its the most sincere he’s been since their phone call began.

She sucks in a breath, “Alrignt, I suppose I can tell you the rest of what happened.”

“There’s more?” Hazel gawked.

A giggle escapes Piper’s lips as she fills in her friends on the last five years of drama. It feels good to finally admit to someone how weird it was, how conflicted Piper was heading into high school, and to hear their thoughts on how it played out. It was a loss, she realizes, a loss that she had to grieve - and maybe this is how she gets closure.

Her friends do her the service of hanging on to her words like their lives depend on it. They fill in exclamations of shock and disappointment right on cue with the story, and Piper can’t help but play into it as a reward for keeping this holed up within her.

“Jesus,” Leo’s eyes are wide, “no wonder you hated her for so long.”

“Hate is a strong word,” Piper insists, averting her gaze. “I never hated her.”

Hazel scoffs, “Your nose grew up a couple inches there, I think.”

“Sounds like someone got bit by the looooove buuuug,” Leo teased. “Piper, two weeks ago you were calling Annabeth a cunt.”

“I did not!”

“You sent it in a voice memo in the group chat,” Hazel clarified. “We literally have evidence.”

“This is neither here nor there,” Piper shook her head. “I have to talk to Annabeth.”

Hazel gave her a sympathetic look, “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

She groans, “I don’t know. I’ve kind of gotten to the point where I don’t care.”

Leo hummed, “I’m with you, Piper. Screw the status quo.”

“I don’t mean it like that,” Piper fixes, “Annabeth was an important person for me through some of my toughest times. I want her back in my life again. I know just a few weeks ago she was dead to me, but it feels like a lifetime passed by. It’s foolish we ever left each other.”

Hazel’s chocolate eyes practically melt. “Be careful, is all. You’re busy enough. Protect your wellbeing. I know you, Piper. You would do a lot for the people you care about, don’t do it at a personal cost.”

“I get what Hazel is saying,” Leo nods. “But its also senior year, life is short. If whatever this turns out to be would make you happy for even a minute, go for it. Make a few mistakes, learn from them. We’ll be right besides you the whole way.”

Piper has tears welling up in the corner of her eyes again. She’s getting sick of them. A couple times a day seems concerning.

“Follow your gut,” Hazel summarizes.

“Thanks, guys,” Piper sniffles. “I’m going to. My gut wants me to go talk to Annabeth.”

Leo winks at her, “Au revoir.”

With their well-wishes lingering in her ear, Piper hangs up the video call. The streetlights popped on as if they knew she needed them. Darkness had descended, though she would be able to see her hands in front of her face without the lamps.

The streets are eerily quiet. Piper has walked home at night before, despite her father’s protests, and the quietness was abnormal. Their town was small and they didn’t live that far away. Occasionally, time at the music shop drifts faster than she realizes and her father is at the firehouse, so it made more sense to walk. On those nights, cars would zip past and late-evening walkers could be spotted with their dogs. Tonight, Piper was alone.

Leaves occasionally startle her as they rattle across the pavement, she is happy for their company. It breaks up the silence that her mind desperately attempts to fill with rambling worries about what the Percy fight could mean, and was it odd for Piper to show up afterwards? She doesn’t want Annabeth to think that she was hiding in the shadows simply waiting for the first opportunity she had to make a definitive mood.

Too quickly, Piper is standing outside the Chase household. The last time she was here, a large party covered the backyard and a steady stream of guests were continuously coming in and out the front door. Tonight, the stark emptiness towers over her.

A single car sits in the driveway, Piper isn’t sure which family member it belongs too. The living room light is on and when Piper’s eyes trace up to the second floor, Annabeth’s light illuminates the closed cuetains. Or at least, that was the room Annabeth had when they were younger. It’s possible she could’ve switched at some point.

The idea of ringing the doorbell makes Pipee want to vomit. She hasn’t had the unfortunate of seeing Frederick Chase face to face in years, that’s a trend she wants to keep. It would be better for Annabeth, too, that Frederick didn’t see Piper. He would ask questions that could freak her out, regardless of if she told the truth or not.

And, as loved and welcomed Annabeth was in the McLean household, Piper never felt that reciprocated at the Chase’s. No one was rude to her directly, she was fed if she stuck around for dinner or sleepovers, but she had the feeling that Frederick took the phase “children are best seen and not heard” to heart, especially when it came to guests.

Piper figured the best way to get Annabeth’s attention without summoning Frederick, is to return the favor and show up unannounced outside Annabeth’s window.

She shoulders her bag higher on her shoulder, doing her best to secure it at her side. Piper locates a tree low enough for her to start climbing. The longest branches extends short of the gabled roof, but she’s confident she can leap either onto the roof or the long-forgotten drain pipe hidden to the side of Annabeth’s window.

The bark of the tree is rough on her hands. Piper hasn’t climbed a tree since early in her childhood, when she witnessed a kid at the park get stuck on the big oak and the fire department had to come. It’s easier than she remembered, that could be because she’s taller and stronger. It is messier, with tree sap sticking to her hands and short branches scratching at her arms and legs.

She gets to the specific branch quickly. She tests it out with one foot at the time to make sure it would keep her weight. It barely wobbles. Slowly, Piper takes a crouched stance and begins to shimmy her way closer and closer to the roof. The closer she gets, the rocking of the branch increases. She tries her best to ignore the prodding her subconscious is doing. Was this really a better option than possibly seeing Frederick?

She gets as far as she can confidently get before the branch gives away. Extending her hands out before her to prepare for any life-saving grabs she may have to do, she brings her feet as close together as she can get them.

A sickening crack echoes through the empty night air right as she leaps. Panic shoots adrenaline into her system and her mind goes blank. The air seems to collapse around her, is she falling?

In a last ditch effort, Piper flails her arms out in front of her. She hears her branch tumble down the rest of the tree, she’s not with it. Her hands are turning white as they grip onto the edge of the roof. One hand is engulfed in the gutter filled with leaves and sticks. A single baseball is hidden among the mess.

She mutters a curse under her breath and wiggles her feet around to see if she can find any footing. No luck. She tightens her grip, sucks in a breath, and strains her muscles to pull herself up. Her biceps burn and her fingers threaten to give out. She huffs, swinging a leg up over the edge of the gutter at the same time she does her best pullup.

Piper was never able to do the pull ups in gym class. Tristan had tried to help her down at the fire station, she was less than athletically gifted. She groans, pulling up with the last she had in herself. Her leg makes it, she flops her stomach onto the rough shingles. From there, the rest is easy.

On the roof, Piper rolls into her back. Her lungs fight for air, her entire body burning in protest. She takes a moment to catch her breath, the air coming in and out raggedy.

“Christ,” she moans. The stars above her twinkle as a good omen. Or maybe they’re mocking her lack of upper body strength, she can’t be sure.

Piper crawls over to Annabeth’s window, sending up a silent prayer that this indeed was still her room. Limply, she knocks on the window.

No one comes. She counts to ten and knocks again.

The curtains suddenly push aside. A weary Annabeth peers out in confusion. As her eyes find Piper’s, a bewildered but amused grin replaces the exhaustion. She pulls the window up.

“Knock knock,” Piper teases. Her tone is breathless.

Annabeth peers behind her, “Hi, uh, what are you doing?”

“I wanted to see you,” she responds. “You know…check in. I heard what happened.”

The other girl frowns, “You heard, huh?”

“Yeah, Leo and Hazel were there,” she informs. “Also, my dad works there.”

“I see.”

Piper cocks her head at her, “How are you doing?”

Annabeth shrugs, “I don’t want to talk about it yet.”

“That’s okay,” she reassures. “We can go for a walk.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea…”

“I’m not here to try and start something,” Piper promises. “I’m here because you need me — you need someone.”

The blonde thinks it over. In the yellow light from her room, her honey hair shines like a halo. Her grey eyes are bloodshot from crying. She’s oddly pale, despite her tan skin. Piper can see why her friends described her as sickly. If she looked this queasy at the pancake dinner, she would’ve assumed the same thing.

Annabeth nods, “Okay. Where are you taking me?”

“We can go for a walk.”

“That sounds good,” she hums. She turns around, leaving Piper alone on the roof.

Hesitantly, Piper pokes her head into Annabeth’s room. She’s already slipping a hoodie on over her pajamas.

“Uh,” Piper says, “can I come in?”

Annabeth turns around with a ‘duh’ expression, “Yeah.”

Piper slips one leg in through the frame, she’s pushing through when her other foot gets caught on the eve. She falls into the room with a heavy tumble.

“Are you okay?” Annabeth wonders. Her words get stuck in her fit of laughter.

“Yes,” Piper jumps to her feet, dusting off her hands. “That was nothing compared to climbing the tree.”

“You climbed the tree?”

She nods, “Yup, how else was I supposed to get up here without running into Frederick.”

“A ladder.”

Piper feels dumb. “I didn’t think of that.”

“Your dad is a firefighter.”

“That doesn’t mean we have ladders just hanging around,” Piper argues.

“That’s fair,” Annabeth gives in. She walks up to her, a pile of clothes in her hands. “These are yours.”

Piper accepts the clothes, realizing they were the baggy pajamas she had loaned Annabeth last night.

“Oh,” Piper’s face falls, “you could keep them.”

Annabeth blinks, “Um, yeah, okay.”

A beat of awkward silence falls between them. The clothes are still extended in her hand. When it goes on for a second too long, Annabeth tosses the clothes onto her bed.

“Let’s just go,” Annabeth suggests.

“Through the front door?”

“Only if you promise to behave.”

Piper laughs. Without another word, the two quietly sneak down the stairs. All the doors are shut, but the house is eerily familiar to Piper. She can picture how everything was the last time she was here as a kid, not much as changed.

When they reach the hallway that goes through the living room, Annabeth peeks her head around the corner.

“We’re good,” she whispers. “My dad fell asleep on the couch. Just be quiet.”

Piper nods, following Annabeth at a tiptoe. She can faintly here Frederick snoring over the drone of the TV news channel.

They exit the house, Annabeth clicking the front door shut slowly so as not to make any extra noise. Piper is engulfed in the crisp night air again. Annabeth looks back at her, her eyes finally lit up with excitement. It makes Piper’s heart thump loudly in her ribcage.

“You’re leading the way now,” Annabeth orders.

Piper steps forward, falling into step with the blonde. It’s m darker now, the familiar la scale around her seems to displease into the ink blackness. Crickets and cicadas echo among the tees. Bats swoop in and out of the moonlight. When her eyes glance over, Annabeth’s grey eyes stare brightly back her.

“We can fill the silence,” Piper suggests as their feet on the pavement create a unique beat.

“i don’t know, I kinda liked the silence,” Annabeth teases.

“Uh-huh,” Piper rolls her eyes. “I guess I’ll have to make the conversation myself.”

Annabeth smirks quietly. “I’m on the edge of my seat.”

“Well, uh, not to make it weird but my dad has invited you over for dinner,” she tells.

“What?” Annabeth’s eyes go wide.

Piper chuckles, “Don’t panic. He doesn’t know anything except you came to the bonfire.” She clears her throat, “But he wants to catch up, I guess that like, um, we missed you.”

Annabeth watches Piper intently. It’s the kind of intense stare that makes electricity flow and the hairs on her arms stand up.

“I’d love to,” Annette finally declares. “Let me know a time, I’ll be there.”

Piper returns a smile, “I’ll talk with my dad and figure it out. Don’t feel like you have to agree because we’re neighbors, either. I’ll understand. He’s probably going to grill you about what you’ve been up to and college plans, anyway. It’ll be boring, if not immensely annoying.”

“Piper,” Annabeth begins calmly. And God, is Piper smitten. Simply saying her name sends a jolt of exhilaration down her spine. “I said I’d love to. Don’t talk me out of it.”

“Okay, okay, understood,” she tries to sound steady.

“So far you’re not doing great at coming up with conversation,” the other girl quips.

“What do you mean?”

Annabeth raises an eyebrow, “You’ve asked me one question and then argued with my answer.”

“It wasn’t arguing - “ she stops her sentence when she sees Annabeth’s face. “Okay, fine it was a little.”

“Stick to simpler topics,” Annabeth suggests. “We used to be friends, but we’ve grown a lot. There’s bound to be stuff we don’t know”

Piper sighs, “It feels weird to start from scratch when we used to know everything about one another.”

“But we aren’t the same people we were then,” she explains, “we knew all there was to know about middle school us. Now we are meeting a new version.”

“I suppose.”

Annabeth seems concerned. “I can start, or, um we don’t have to do this.”

“No, no, I want too. I promise,” Piper scratches the back of her neck. “I want to know every thought you have, all about your day, your likes and dislikes. I want that. I just…nevermind it’s dumb.”

“Well now you have to tell me.”

She averts her gaze, “What if we don’t like our new versions?”

Annabeth’s eyebrows furrow together. Piper wishes she could read her thoughts and decipher what this particular expression meant. Not knowing was making her hands shake. Her vulnerable words feel stuck in her throat like the molasses candies her grandpa kept on him.

“That’s stupid,” Annabeth deadpans.

It makes Piper laugh, “What is?”

“Of course we’re going to like our new selves,” she declares. “The people we were as little kids informed who we are now. Our time as friends and our time as, uh, less than friends, shaped us too. Who better to understand those changes than the only other person who experienced all the same things?”

Piper grins like a little school girl, “Alright…I believe you.”

“Thanks, I’m pretty wise,” Annabeth brags a little, lifting up her chin. Piper can’t help but notice the way her eyes fall nearly indescernably, she makes a note of it for later.

The other girl clears her throat, “Where are we going again?”

Piper gestures to the sight in front of them. “We’ve arrived, I think.”

The two girls turn their attention to the empty park ahead of them. Streetlamps and grass lights illuminate the pieces of park equipment as if to welcome them to a happier time. The air reeks faintly of weed and fresh dew, implying that a different group of bored teenagers had putzed around not too long ago.

Annabeth lets out a stiff exhale, “Oh wow, we used to come here at night whenever one of us needed to get away.”

“Yeah,” Piper tries to hide the proud grin that sneaks onto her face. “I thought you might want to get away tonight.”

A hand slips its way into Piper’s. It’s soft and a little clammy, but feels like it belongs wrapped up with her fingers. She gives it a tiny squeeze before pulling themselves further into the park.

The minute their shoes touch the aged wood chips that layer the grounds, a renewed energy finds the girls. They’re kids again as they take turns going down the large twisting slide, sway back and forth on a rocking grey dinosaur, race each other down the row of stainless steel slides, and struggle to cross the obstacle course - which is a recent addition they’d never seen before.

Their hysterical laughter fills the air, reminiscent of the childhood giggles that echoed up to the stars. In this moment, Piper felt like nothing had changed. They could be 18 or 8, the playground didn’t care. The night belonged to them. All that happened here was for them to keep. The dinosaur and slides would hide their secrets when the sun came up in the morning. And to the rest of the neighborhood, the couple was never here.

Out of breath with a thin layer of sweat on their clammy skin, Annebeth holds out a hand to help Piper up to the top of the jungle gym. She gives her a thankful smile as she takes the last rung, perching beside Annabeth. They let their feet dangle below them, their fingers still intertwined and their shoulders bumping.

Ahead of them, the small wooden reserve that houses the local walking trails are alive with hooting owls and rustles in the bushes. In the other direction, a pavilion that used to scare Piper when they’d come here as kids. Now she realizes how empty it feels.

“Juilliard, huh?” Annabeth wonders out of the blue.

Piper lays back in the equipment. The couple metal bars that make up continuous rungs dug a little into her back, but now she had a perfect view of the stars and moon.

“That’s the goal,” Piper speaks dryly.

“You’re perfect for it,” Annabeth decides. “I’m not saying that because of us, I’m saying it honestly. I’ve never heard anyone play like you.”

Piper snorts, “You haven’t heard me play in 5 years.”

She shakes her head, “That’s not true. I hear you play every Friday night, at every assembly, and at the jazz band concerts. You have solos, and they always blow me away.”

She squirms under Annabeth’s heavy gaze. Her body is simultaneously fluttering with delight and stunned with shock that Annabeth had been sneakily paying attention to her.

“I didn’t think you noticed.”

“Of course I did,” she doubles down, “and even if I hadn’t, I knew how good you were then. It’s logical to assume you’ve improved.”

Piper snickers, “You really know how to compliment a girl. Logic speaks right to the heart.”

“You know what I mean,” Annabeth gives her a playful push before joining her laying down.

“Thank you,” she replies earnestly.

She didn’t know what else to say. It seems lame to admit that any compliment from Annabeth these days sends her heart into overdrive.

“When will you know if you got in?” inquires Annabeth. Her voice is loud, but feels like a whisper.

Piper runs her tongue over her teeth, “I audition in the spring, but I’ll know if I get in over the summer. They only have so many slots for each instrument, it’s kind of a long shot.”

“I know how you feel,” Annabeth continues. “I’ve been trying to get summer internships at architecture firms, doing literally anything. I’d be happy to get them coffee or pick up their dry cleaning if I can put it on application on resumes in the future. But each firm only hires a couple, and those that get hired are usually already in college.”

“Architecture,” Piper lets the word fall off her lips. “That’s your goal?”

She nods, “Yup, it’s a little lame but I’ve always enjoyed it. And it uses math to problem solve and create real, tangible solutions.”

“Don’t make it sound too sexy,” Piper jokingly warns, “or you might have more competition for those internships.”

“Its hard to make blue prints and protractors not sexy,” Annabeth plays along.

Piper chuckles, “What school is the dream for an Architect then?”

“I’m applying to almost all of the major New York universities,” she explains. “I would love NYU or Columbia, though. I’m supposed to go to a seminar this Friday that prestigious institutions in the city host for potential applicants.”

“And it gets sexier.”

Annabeth sasses back, “Any sexiness is removed since it’s a requirement from my dad. It will help bolster my application, so I’m not against it, but it won’t be fun. At least he’s paying for my hotel room.”

Piper tries to picture a world where Tristan would force her to attend an event alone in the city, while he bankrolls it from afar. Chances were slim.

“That sounds…overwhelming,” she admits.

“It’ll be fine,” Annabeth insists. “I’ve mastered the art of schmoozing.”

Suddenly, she sits back up and wrings her hands together. “Actually Percy was supposed to go with me, he’ll still offer but…things have been different lately.”

Piper slowly sits up too. She levels a steady gaze towards her neighbor, “How so?”

“Because of you,” she mumbles, “and how I feel about you. Whenever I’m with him, it feels like I’m hurting the both of you. All because I don’t understand how to navigate these feelings.”

“Oh,” was all that Piper could muster in a response.

Annabeth frowns, “I freaked out at the pancake dinner. Percy asked me to go earlier in the week, and I felt like I had to say yes because I’ve been avoiding him. He can tell something is off.”

“So we went together. His family was with us for most of it, and that was easy. When they left, there was no buffer. He kept asking me questions about the dinner I went to with my dad and how the night went and if I was alright.”

Piper decides to sit out of the conversation, despite how antsy and hot with anticipation the words made her feel. This was a time meant for listening.

“I thought of the bonfire,” Annabeth admits. “With every question he asked, it felt like the bonfire was a secret I couldn’t share with him. And that hurt because Percy and I share everything - big and small. I wanted to tell him. I wanted to tell him how it was the best night I’ve had in a while, that you guys welcomed me and let me be whoever I wanted to be. And I felt safe.”

“Wow,” Piper breathes out. Redness is creeping up her neck and cheeks. “T-that’s so…I don’t know what to say. You’re welcome? I guess.”

She chuckles faintly. “I’m not done.”

“Oh, sorry. Go on.”

“And weirdly, I wanted so badly to tell him about you,” Annabeth confides. With their bodies close, Piper can feel the rising temperature between the two.

“It’s stupid,” she qualifies. “But I wanted to tell him about all we’ve been through, what happened in that bathroom, and that I can’t get you out of my head no matter how hard I try. I want to gush about how my stomach does somersaults when you touch me and giggle with him about when I’m around you, I let my guard down.”

Piper’s mind kicks into overdrive. She has the unmistakable urge to kiss Annabeth with the same ferocity as the night before. Her mind battles with her heart, reminding her that this is a pivotal moment. It’s clear to Piper that what Annabeth is describing is an intense friendship, not romantic love. Piper can’t be the one to break that news.

“In another world, Percy would tease me about how easily you make me blush,” Annabeth muses. “In this one, I have no choice but to hurt him.”

It amazes Piper how dramatic the teenage mind is. Here Annabeth is rhapsodizing about the different multiverses and she’s stuck in the one where no matter what does, people end up hurt. And she knows how that feels, the intensity of feelings turns her insides to mush, too.

Piper raises a hand, instead of kissing Annabeth’s strawberry lips, she gently turns her chin to face her. The other girls eyes flutter instinctively, her eyelids drooping. She presses their foreheads together.

“You’re brave, Annabeth,” she whispers. The whole park is empty, but this is a moment meant only for each others ears.

A single tear traces down Annabeth’s cheek, “It doesn’t feel like it.”

“You don’t have to feel it,” Piper assures, “I know it. You’re the bravest person I know. And my dad is a firefighter.”

A laugh breaks through her tears and Piper wonders if she jumped off the jungle gym now, would she float from the joy she felt.

“Thank you,” Annabeth croaks.

“No problem,” Piper squeezes her hand.

“I mean for all of this,” she adds. “For being so patient and for taking me here. You didn’t have too.”

This time, Piper does sneak a long peck onto Annabeth’s temple. It’s chaste, but she feels both their bodies relax. She doesn’t have to say anything, they both know what it means.

“So…” Piper pulls away, “we should change the subject?”

Another laugh comes out of Annabeth’s mouth as she wipes away her tears. “Yes, please.”

“Cool, tell me about how you’ve been stalking me in the band for the past five years?”

“I was not!” Annabeth insists in a playful tone. “I happen to attend a lot of events that the pro band frequents. And I pay attention to the star pupils.”

“Oh yeah?” Piper raises an eyebrow. “What instrument does Leo play?”

She visibly falters, “I said star pupils, not Leo.”

Piper laughs, “Okay fine. That doesn’t explain the jazz band solos, though.”

“Yes it does. I go to those because they’re fun.”

“They’re not even fun for me,” she objects.

Annabeth puts her hands up in defense, “Alright, fine, I admit I was looking for you at all those things. Just because we stopped hanging out doesn’t mean I stopped caring.”

“Yeah, I’m giving you a hard time for fun. It’s sweet how obsessed you are with me,” she winks.

“I didn’t say that,” a blush flutters into Annabeth’s cheeks again. She gently pushes Piper with her shoulder. “Besides, I’m sure you did same.”

Piper practically guffaws, “Oh please, as if I had a choice. Your face is plastered around school and your name is lining the hallways on posters large enough to take an ad out on.”

“That’s not true!”

“It totally is,” she argues, “I can admit at my lowest, it pissed me off. All of it comes from feeling left behind. I may’ve been the one who spray painted ‘twat’ on your Clean School Proposal poster board sophomore hear.”

Annabeth’s jaw drops. “That was you?”

Sheepishly, Piper shrugs. “It was Leo’s idea, but I loved doing it. Bummer too, I liked your plan.”

“I’m not allowed to put any posterboards up in the lobby anymore,” Annabeth crosses her arms. An amused smile is fighting to appear on her lips.

“I promise not to do it again,” Piper sticks out a pinky. Playfully, Annabeth pushes it away.

They spend an hour or so together on top of the jungle gym. Annabeth points out the constellations, launching into detail about the myths surrounding them and the science behind stars. Her tone is filled with passion and her voice is soothing, Piper has an easy time paying attention as she lays down on her back again.

A bulk of their time is spent catching up. They discuss whatever comes to mind; movies they’ve seen in the last 5 years that they like, music Piper is outraged to find Annabeth isn’t familiar with, silly family stories to laugh at together, friendly arguments about whether or not zodiacs are true, the occasional gossip about their classmates and they dive more into their aspirations.

Once the initial awkward barrier is removed, they travel from topic to topic with ease. Piper realizes she had forgotten how funny Annabeth can be, she’s clever and quick-witted. For a brief second, Piper worries she can’t keep up, but then she gets distracted by how quickly their comfortability with one another returned and she’s overcome with joy.

When she thinks back through their 5 years stewing in their own anger, it feels like a regret Piper will always hold onto. Eventually they get up to leave, tracking their way back to their houses in the dark. Their hands sway together between them.

This time, Piper doesn’t question how to say goodbye. She pulls Annabeth into a tight hug. Their chins find the corresponding shoulder and stay like that for a while. Piper drinks it in. The hug goes beyond physical or romantic affection, this is a celebratory embrace for finding their way back to friendship. It’s an agreement that no matter what transpires, they’re in each others corners again.

Water threatens to break from Piper’s eyes, and for the first time they’re happy tears.

“I missed you, too,” Annabeth breaths out as the two girls pull away.

Piper smiles back at her. And reminiscent of all the years prior, they turn around to march back to their respective homes. The only witness to their adventure and silent promises are the moon and the stars at the old playground.

Chapter Text

Annabeth practically skips into the kitchen. Her body is giddy, she feels wired with an electricity that is addictive. With the living room lights off and Frederick sleeping upstairs, there’s no reason for her to hide the happy dance she can’t restrain.

The swirlie, warm emotions congregating in her chest is vastly contradictory to how she felt a couple hours ago before Piper showed up at her window. She knows she should feel self-conscious and guilty about yelling at Percy in public and gallivanting off with Piper shortly after, and she does, but the nostalgic walk to the playground is briefly masking it. She can feel the spot on her chin where Piper had touched it, and her temple radiates warmth from her brief kiss.

Tonight is the high before the withdrawal.

She’s been saying that for a while - letting herself bask in the happy moments and pledging to deal with it later. For the night, she’s falling for the same mental trick. After all, some progress had been made. Percy is giving her space, as long as she utilizes it to continue processing her emotions, she can ride tonight’s high out.

Annabeth grabs a bottle of juice and a clementine from the fridge and makes her way up to her room. The dynamic with Piper feels normal again, possibly better than normal, and she can’t help but think maybe that makes the rest of the shitshow of her inner turmoil okay.

The clementine is demolished by the time she reaches her room. She tosses it in the trash, beginning her nighttime routine. It’s been the same since she started high school, she can do it mindlessly.

And her inner dialogue finds Percy. She isn’t proud of her extremely public outburst. It wasn’t exactly planned, what she wanted to say wasn’t planned really, it all came boiling out. She sat through the pancake dinner, listening to the Jackson-Blofis family chatter about their lives. It was pleasant and normally would distract her, but throbbing under the surface of her collected exterior was the desire to see Piper again. It was unshakable.

And that’s when it began to feel suffocating. Sally, Estelle, and Paul wished them goodbye - they had to get Estelle to her junior ballet class. Annabeth returned their goodbyes with an equally warm smile that didn’t meet her eyes. As she and Percy watched them walk off, he threw an arm around her shoulders.

“Looks like it’s just us,” he proclaimed.

Not for the first time, Annabeth was instantly aware of the eyes on them; down the line of tables a few underclassmen were eyeing them up, across the room she knew Hazel and Leo were monitoring her, and those were the people she recognized. She saw unfamiliar eyes glued to them, peering hostilly no matter the paired expression.

Percy was tossing out ideas of what they could do next, like stopping at the library or going to the ice cream store around the block from the firehouse, some of her favorite things. He could sense something was off and wants to fix it.

Somehow that’s worse. The fix is Piper, and that’s the one thing Percy can’t provide. In fact, the longer she sits beside him and endures his embrace, the less time she has to address Piper and the problem she poses.

And so Annabeth had stood up dramatically. She left half a plate full of pancakes and stared down at Percy with an expression she had never directed at him before. It was indifferent and frustrated, and his eyebrows furrowed in further concern. She threw blunt words at him with the ease of a tennis ball.

He doubled-down, standing up to match her energy and insisting they talk about it. No one relented until Percy became aware of the eyes too and obliged her request. Eyes red, nose stinging, she left in a hurry out the side door of the firestation.

Piper appeared out her window (because of course she did) like a prayer. Under the moon sitting on the cold metal of the jungle gym with Piper close, her Percy problem had dissolved.

It’s unfair to call it the Percy Problem. She knows that. It’s her problem. But calling it the Annabeth Problem seemed too self-flagellating.

Now that she’s alone, it faces her again. Her conversation with Piper reminded her of the seminar in New York on Saturday, too. The one she had invited Percy to for the sake of both of their futures.

Yes, she had asked for space. Bringing Percy to stay overnight in the city isn’t exactly space, but it does feel rude to uninvite him. She knows him, he will give her the space she requested and she will be grateful. This seminar, however, would help both of them get in the good graces of their top schools. It might also give them a better idea of which one they prefer, if they got their pick of the bunch. It would be selfish to leave him behind. He surely wouldn’t do the same if roles were reversed.

Alone in a car for a few hours, stuck in a hotel room all night, and mingling with the university’s elite with someone she cares deeply for, but currently can’t look in the eye does feel like Hell, though. Not to mention she is still unaware of how Percy feels. He could be in his room right now, praying that she forgets and won’t be held to his word.

Annabeth decides, while she slips into her pajamas for the night, to let the pieces fall where they may. She won’t seek Percy out, if he doesn’t broach the topic himself, she’ll go alone.

Under the covers, she does her best to listen to her own decision. There’s no use in overthinking it further. She repeats that in her mind until sleep comes.

~*~*~*~

Annabeth wakes up in the morning after a surprisingly restful sleep. She runs through her routine quickly, this time not giving herself any time to run her thoughts dry again.

Downstairs, Matthew and Bobby are laughing together while eating their eggs. Sheila is assembling her coffee near the espresso machine and Frederick is double-checking his tie in the mirror.

She grabs her backpack off the back of a chair. No one notices her entering the room. Honestly that’s how she prefers it. She makes toast for the drive to school, Sheila gives her extra space.

Frederick is heading out the door right as she butters her toast and is stepping out as well. He follows her out, briefcase tucked at his side and a cup of to-go coffee in his hands. He’s muttering something under his breath.

Annabeth digs around in her bag as she walks towards her car, fishing around for her keys. She locates them, and as she looks up to unlock her car, she stops dead in her tracks.

Piper is leaning against the car. She’s fiddling around on her phone, not yet noticing them exiting the house.

Behind her, Frederick tumbles into her after the sudden stop. His coffee sloshes through the lid, falling over his hand.

“Good God!” he exclaims. His briefcase falls to the ground. He switches the hand holding the coffee, he whips his coffee-covered hand around wildly to attempt to get the hot liquid off. Annabeth steps away to give him space.

“What’s wrong with you?” Frederick levels a glare at her. The coffee is shoved at her, she accepts it without a choice. He pulls a folded cloth napkin out of seemingly nowhere, using it to mop up any remaining coffee.

“Sorry,” Annabeth grumbles. “I was surprised.”

“You’re lucky it didn’t get on my suit,” Frederick continues. “I’m almost late as is.”

Piper has clearly noticed them now. Her phone is set aside and she’s stepped up beside Annabeth.

“You should watch where you’re going, Mr. Chase,” she remarks dryly.

Frederick’s head snaps up to the new voice. Annabeth watches in vague amusement as her father tries to place who Piper is and why she’s speaking. His eyes float her up and down. Annabeth can’t read minds, but she can guess as to the judgmental thoughts tumbling around in his brain.

Today, Piper is wearing a fitted tank top with an embroidered star across the chest. A too-large leather jacket hangs over her shoulders. It’s adorned with patches of wear and tear that implies years of use. Her bag is slung over her shoulder with a new, sewn patch on the strap that displays a fish giving the middle finger. Her hair is messily braided and an old baseball cap is sitting backwards on top of it.

That’s not even covering the piercings in her ears and nose. It’s as if she catered her outfit to displease Frederick, but at least her hair is nearly all the same color.

“Dr. Chase,” he corrects. “W-who are you?”

“Piper McLean,” Piper answers. Her chin is lifted ever-so-slightly and her eyes stare him down defiantly. “I live next door, I wouldn’t expect you to remember.”

Frederick makes a gruff sound, “You ladies should get to school. Annabeth, you parked me in.”

Annabeth hands him his coffee and unlocks the car without a word. She gets into the driver seat, Fredrick stalks off to the garage to get into his own car.

A moment later, Piper is ducking into her passenger seat. Her bag drops to the floor with a clatter from some of the pins on the outside. She looks expectantly at Annabeth. The car fills with her honey scent.

“Am I giving you a ride to school?” Annabeth asks, amused.

Piper smiles, “Yes, please. We have lots of work to do on the Prom Committee.”

Annabeth backs the car out of the driveway. She laughs, “Is that the excuse you’re using? Because other than a couple of fundraising events here and there, most of our work is done until winter.”

“Welllll,” she drawls, “I think this extra time can only be beneficial to brainstorming for those fundraisers.”

“And suddenly, you are eager to help,” Annabeth teases.

Piper blushes, “I’ve always been offering, someone was making it difficult.”

“Uh-huh, blame it on me.”

“It’s not your fault you were overwhelmed by my charm.”

This time Annabeth feels the heat in her cheeks, “So what are these amazing fundraising ideas you have?”

Piper’s eyes glow, “For Halloween, they normally don’t allow costumes at school, right? What if we get the office to say they’re allowed, but a student has to pay say…I don’t know, like, five bucks to wear a costume.”

“Do you think enough students would willingly spend their own money just to wear a costume to school?”

“They will if their payment automatically enters them in a school-wide costume contest. Voted on by representatives of each grade, and the winner gets something completely worthwhile.”

Annabeth purses her lips, pondering it for a moment. It would take a lot of leeway with the people in the front office, but they usually can be swayed by her consistent badgering.

“Sounds fun,” she agrees. “What would the winner get?”

“Off-campus lunch for a week!” Piper announces. She claps for herself.

She frowns, “That’s gonna be hard to get Principal Brunner to agree too.”

“But if anyone can…” Piper pokes her in the elbow, “it is you.”

“Principal Brunner does love me,” Annabeth agrees.

“Great,” she nods. “For Thanksgiving, we do Thank You grams. Where you bring a dollar, and can send someone a Thank You Cookie. And for Christmas, I think we get a list of teachers willing to dress up as Santa, an elf, and a reindeer and everyone can vote on who by donating, too.”

Annabeth can’t help but smile, “Wow, you’re full of ideas.”

“Couldn’t sleep last night,” Piper admits sheepishly. Her hands are fiddling with the zipper on her jacket.

“Oh,” her smile falters a bit, “…because of last night?”

Piper eyes leave her zipper, finding their way up to Annabeth’s face. She can barely see their multicolor tapestry out of the corner of her eyes.

“Not for any bad reason,” Piper reassures. “I had a good time.”

“Even though I was pretty self-pitying?”

“Even though you were a little self-pitying.”

Annabeth feels her pulse flutter at her direct reassurance.

“I know this doesn’t need to be said,” she replies. Her eyes flash over to the other girl. “But I’ve really enjoyed, er, seeing you again.”

She wheels the car into the school parking lot, pulling it into a spot and switching off the ignition. “And if I get extra time by bringing you to school and hearing you ramble on about prom fundraising, I’ll do it.”

Piper giggles, her ears a bright red. “Oh, please, you get totally turned on by my prom planning ideas.”

To hide her beam, Annabeth grabs her bag and keys and begins to get out of the car. She does let Piper hear her laugh, so that she makes it clear she’s not upset at the harmless joke.

When she’s out, Piper is sliding out of the car too. She’s still smiling, “And I’ve enjoyed the time together too.”

The two join up in front of the car, chuckling together as they start their walk towards the front door. They aren’t as early as Annabeth normally is, meaning that students are pulling into the parking lot and beginning to congregate at normal before school hangouts.

It’s not lost on her that a lot of puzzled looks are being tossed in their direction. It leaves a guilty feeling under her skin, moreso than the looks she earned when she was with Percy. By now, they all know about what she did at the pancake dinner. At Goode High, showing up after a weekend filled with a disastrous public breakup beside anyone unexpected on Monday is worthy of a public tribunal. It’s not exactly helpful that Piper’s arm keeps brushing up against hers, their fingers briefly touching in a tease.

As they swing through the front doors, Piper grabs her hand and hauls her into the nearest room. It’s the staff, single-stall bathroom. It smells like an air-freshener.

“What’s with us and bathrooms?” Annabeth jokes awkwardly.

Piper flicks the bathroom lock closed. “Ha ha,” she mutters dryly.

“Why did you bring me in here?” She asks.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“No.”

Piper grabs her hand. “You’re as pale as a sheet, which is crazy because you were beet red in the car. I’m not blind, I know why.”

Annabeth’s eyes drift down to their hands touching. It soothes the anxiety creeping into her rising goosebumps.

“Are you okay?” She asks sincerely, her voice drops quietly. Her hand tightens and they drift closer together.

“Oh,” Annabeth says. Her mind is whirling. She’s starting to realize that her hands are clammy and her heart beat is racing - and not because of their close proximity.

Piper’s eyes widen, “Annabeth, things with us are great. I meant it when I told you I’d follow your lead on things. Obviously the students at this school have a weird obsession with you. If after what happened with Percy, being seen with me makes it harder, we can distance ourselves a little.”

Her heart thumps louder. She sucks a breath, leveling out her breathing. Slowly, her mind starts to clear. All of the things she is saying are true, it’s enough to send Annabeth back home and in bed to wallow again. But here, Piper is standing in front of her and holding her hand, pledging to help.

Annabeth’s free hand slips a finger through Piper’s belt loop and pulls her into a kiss. The other girl’s hand goes limp for a second in her own, before snapping into action and moving to push a strand of blonde hair out of their way. With their newfound experience, their lips move in tandem. She’s suffocated by the same scent she left lingering in her car. Piper’s breath still tastes like toothpaste, its cold against her cheeks when they pull away.

Breathless, Piper laughs airly, “I don’t know what that means.”

“It means,” Annabeth begins with a light tone, “that I appreciate your understanding. But I want you by my side still. You help me…navigate it all, I think.”

Piper bites her lip, “Okay, then I’ll help you navigate it.”

“Thanks,” she grins. “You can start by getting along with my dad.”

Her eyes roll, “He was being a dick.”

“He’s always a dick.”

“That’s not an excuse,” Piper argues. “He’s your dad, he shouldn’t talk down to you.”

Annabeth wants to kiss her again. Instead, she pulls Piper towards the door.

“Yes, I know. But calling him out on it just makes more problems for me later,” she explains. “Let’s get to class.”

“Fine,” Piper says, letting herself be pulled.

Annabeth unlocks the door. Her hand on the knob, she shoots one more look over her shoulder.

“I want you by my side,” she repeats. “But maybe no kissing and couple-y stuff in public, yet.”

“I can do that,” Piper promises.

“Thanks.”

Annabeth is about to pull open the door.

“Wait,” Piper lunges forward. She uses her free hand to keep the door shut.

“What?” Annabeth laughs quietly.

The other girl leans forward, kissing Annabeth one more time. This time a brief peck, a smirk glued on her lips as they do.

“Had to sneak one in,” Piper grins, “now that I know it’s okay in private.”

This time Annabeth rolls her eyes, finally opening the door and stepping into the busy school hallway. Piper follows, their hands separating. It leaves her palm cold.

They join the current of the hallway. Piper stays beside her, close but their arms not touching.

As they pass by, a couple of girls snicker and point at Annabeth. A frown finds her face, but when she looks over at Piper, she’s smiling.

Piper walks with her to her locker. It feels like having a pseudo-bodyguard is a melodramatic response to a few gossips, it's a comfort nonetheless. She twists her code into the locker while Piper chatters about her other fundraising ideas.

“Miss McLean!” A voice breaks down the hallway.

Annabeth and Piper look over. Mr. Blofis is striding towards them, some papers in his hand. A happy smile is bright on his face.

“Uh, hi,” Piper greets as the teacher approaches.

Mr. Blofis smiles, “Piper,” he nods to Annabeth, too, “how are you two this morning?”

“Good,” Annabeth nods.

“Same,” Piper agrees noncommittally.

“Great,” Paul says. He raises the papers in his hands. “Piper, I’ve been looking to give these to you.”

Piper hesitantly takes them, “Sure thing, what are they?”

He grins, “I’ve been searching for extra ways to help you with your Juilliard journey ever since you asked. Now, of course I’m still around when you start tackling the papers. But my friend gave me a heads up about this event, too.”

“Event?” She asks curiously.

The dots have connected in Annabeth’s head. Her palms grow clammy again. She refocuses on grabbing certain books out of her locker.

“It’s a seminar, almost convention-type thing in the city this weekend,” Mr. Blofis explains. “New York universities send representatives and administrators to help recruit, inform, and find students they want to apply. Juilliard is one of them.”

Piper’s eyes slide over to Annabeth, clearly remembering their conversation the night before still.

“I got you a ticket, you have to fill out some contact information online. These have all the information. Dress code, ticket price, stuff like that,” he adds on.

“Ticket price?” Piper wonders.

“Yes. They serve a dinner so it’s 80 dollars for a ticket.”

She exhales out her nose, “Hard pass. That and a hotel room? I can’t ask my dad to pay that.”

Mr. Blofis gives a sympathetic smile, “Promise me you’ll keep the papers? I’ll see if I can figure some help out by the end of the week.”

“Okay,” she agrees.

He wishes the two girls a good rest of their day before marching off down the hall. They both watch him go. An idea pops in her head, her gut screaming to take it.

Annabeth licks her lips, “Come with me.”

“What?” Piper wonders.

“Come with me,” she repeats. “My dad already paid for my hotel room. It’s a queen bed. If you only have to pay for the ticket, do you think you and your dad can swing it?”

The other girl runs her tongue over her teeth, “Yeah. I thought Percy was going, though?”

“We haven’t talked about it,” Annabeth reassures. “With how things went last time we were together, it would surprise me if he wants to go.”

“And it won’t be weird?” Piper raises an eyebrow.

Annabeth shrugs, shutting her locker. She shoots her a playful smirk, “It’s extra time together.”

Slowly, a matching smile finds its way onto Piper’s lips. She nods. “Okay, if you’re offering. I’ll talk to my dad.”

“Great,” she nods, “see you later?”

“You can count on it,” Piper agrees. “I’m going to the music store after school. You can come if you want.”

Annabeth weighs it over, “I’m behind on some homework.”

“You?” Piper gasps. “Annabeth Chase is behind on school?”

“I’ve been busy with other things lately.”

“Oh, yeah, blame me,” Piper teases. “You can always do homework at the store. Austin does.”

“Alright, maybe.”

Piper gives her a little bump on the shoulder before they go their separate ways. Annabeth heads off to her first hour with a combination of excitement for the seminar ahead and anxiety that somehow it could be ruined.

Sitting next to her spot, waiting with batting eyelashes, is Will. His school work is spread out in front him, but the minute he sees her enter he props his chin on his hand.

“I’ve been waiting to see you,” he says mischievously.

Annabeth slides into her seat beside him. The bell ring echoes through the room as the rest of their classmates take their seat.

“Oops,” Annabeth feins, “class has begun.”

Their teacher enters the room, taking the spot in front of the chalk board. Will drops his voice to a whisper.

“Rumor on the street is you showed up to school with Piper.”

Annabeth frowns, “No one thi- “

“No one thinks gay,” Will promises. “I mean, I know. But everyone else only cares because of your fight on the football field.”

“Good,” she breathes out. “I’ll fill you in on the details later. A lot has happened.”

“Yeah,” he smirks, “you don’t normally wear that shade of lipstick.”

Annabeth’s hand flies to her lips, wiping away any evidence of Piper’s dark makeup. Will snickers, “You didn’t have any.”

Playfully, Annabeth kicks him under the table.

The rest of the day went by quickly. It got easier to block out the noise after her conversations with Piper and Will’s ear to the ground. She isn’t as behind on her class work as her brain made her overthink during the weekend. Apparently, she can afford to not prepare ahead on Sundays.

At lunch, she made waves among the student body again by sitting next to Will and a few other of his friends. One of them was Austin Lake, who she was pretty sure Piper mentioned working at the music store with her. Whatever talk had died down during the first half the day, reignited when her usual spot next to Percy remained empty.

Her eyes did drift over to Piper’s table. Hazel sat beside her, and though Annabeth couldn’t see Leo’s face, she knew they were laughing at some silly impression he must be doing. Piper’s cute when laughed. Her nose scrunched up, eyes squeezed shut like she’s about to sneeze, and the sound that came out was higher pitched than her normal voice. She could practically hear whatever sarcastic remark her or Hazel were shooting back at Leo.

Annabeth wants to go sit by them. Will is awesome, his friends are polite and kind, but she doesn’t feel the same inclusivity that Leo and Hazel seemed to radiate. Her foot taps on the ground as she throws in little anecdotes to Will’s group’s conversation about music and clothes and whatever movie came out over the weekend. She knows deep down her move to that table today would be too far too quickly. That risk/cost analysis isn’t in her favor yet.

She leaves lunch feeling completely neutral. With the ups and downs of her life lately, neutral isn’t a loss.

Annabeth sits down in the library for her tutoring period focused on relishing in her neutral mood. She lays out a notepad and her laptop, pulling up her calendar.

A gentle knock pulls her focus. She glances up.

Percy is peeking around the end of a large bookshelf. His sea green eyes are wide, a little hurt, but peaceful. He looks sheepish, which breaks Annabeth’s heart. Out of all the words someone could use to describe Percy Jackson, sheepish was never one of them. But now, hands in his pockets and shoulders slouched - using a bookshelf as cover - he radiates it.

“Hey,” Annabeth greets quietly.

“Hi,” he says softly, “mind if I sit real quick?”

She checks the time on her laptop, “Uh, yeah. If it’s quick, I have a tutoring session with Connor Stoll soon.”

“I know,” he takes his seat, “it will be quick. Promise.”

Annabeth shuts her laptop. She turns her attention to Percy sitting in front of her. He’s wearing his letterman jacket, which means there’s a swim meet tonight. A week ago, she would’ve known that.

“I don’t know how to approach this,” Percy begins. His tone is level. His once loving eyes dart around nervously, scared to meet her eyes.

“It’s okay,” she smiles in an attempt to calm him. “I know you, Percy. I know you want to give me the space I requested, and that whatever brought you here it’s important.”

The corner of his lip tweaks up slightly, “Okay. Thank you. I, um, just wanted to talk about the seminar in the city this week.”

A pit falls in Annabeth’s stomach. She shifts in her seat. “Go on.”

“I know you want space and I totally respect that,” Percy begins. “Truly, I do. I know going to New York together is the opposite of that, and if there was a way I could get my mom to go with or pay for my own hotel room, I would take it. But that event…I don’t have to tell you how big this would be for me. I hope you will still consider letting me come.”

Annabeth swallows, scratching the back of her head. He puts a hand out as if to tell her to wait.

“This will allow me to define myself to admissions people as more than just a swimmer, to show I do care for my future outside of swim,” he remarks. His tone has quickened in response to his passion. “And honestly, I’ll drive separately. I’ll drive home after, even.”

A beat passes. Percy watches her, patiently but clearly anxious. Her mind battles for a split second.

“Percy, its a 3 hour drive,” she responds.

“I know. I can sit silently.”

Annabeth laughs. “No, you can’t.”

“If I have headphones - “

“It’s a 3 hour drive,” she repeats. “You weren’t driving home when it gets done at 10. You can stay with us.”

Percy fist pumps the air. She chuckles at his enthusiasm.

“Thank you!” He gushes.

Her thoughts wander to an assuredly awkward car ride with Piper and Percy for three hours. “Of course…” she drawls.

“Wait,” he pauses, “you said ‘us?’ Who else is coming?”

“Uh, Piper.”

A moment of shock stuns Percy from speaking. Then, he lets out a high whistle. “Whoa, color me surprised.”

Annabeth blushes, “Yeah, you could say we’re friends again.”

“Good,” Percy smiles. “Silena’s awesome, but she’s busy. And doesn’t always get you. Piper does, I think.”

Her stomach twists. “Uh, yeah. She does. Listen, Connor should be here soon…”

He gets to his feet, “Of course. I’ll text you about this weekend, I can drive us. Mom will give me the van.”

“You don’t have too - “

“I insist!” He declares.

She smiles weakly, “Well, thanks. And, um, I’m sorry for how I handled things at the pancake dinner. I do need space, but I didn’t need to ask for it that way.”

Percy’s smile fades into one of sympathy. “It’s okay, Beth. Really. It hurt, obviously. But…you’re the most level-headed person I know. Something set you off, and if space is how we fix it, then I’m all in.”

She feels ready to vomit. “Thanks for that, too, then.”

He gives her a smile and a thumbs up, before disappearing off into the library. Annabeth opens her laptop again. Percy’s timid eyes are glued to the back of her eyelids.

~*~*~*~

Annabeth stands outside of the music shop, holding her breath. She grips her school bag tightly over her shoulder. Piper was happy to invite her to the shop hours ago, but Annabeth can’t shake the feeling that delivering the news that Percy is attending the seminar with them might sour her mood.

Despite her nerves, the music shop always holds an inviting air that draws Annabeth in like a warm hug. The door stays propped open despite the chillier weather, a chalkboard sign keeps it that way, random lyrics of the day written on it. Outside, the distinct warm smell of lavender greets her. The shop is located in a strip mall, but the yellow, dimmed lights create a comforting glow unlike the other stores’ stinging fluorescents.

She finally steels herself enough to enter. Like always, she’s in awe of the array of instruments and collection of records on display. Annabeth knows nothing about music herself, she finds it hard to remember what musicians are known for what song beyond the major names and she consistently forgets song titles, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have an appreciation for the variety of skill and patience it requires.

Today the shop is dead, which she expected for a workday at 3 in the afternoon. A soft ballad that Annabeth recognizes but - of course - can’t name is floating through the store’s speakers. Faintly, she can hear the familiar sounds of a flute whistling under it all.

It’s a sharp contrast to the last time she saw the shop, which had been alive with impromptu music and jovial guests. Piper had been at the center of it all, jamming on the keys of a piano like she didn’t have a care in the world.

“Can I help you find something, dear?” A voice asks. “You look lost.”

Annabeth follows the voice to find an older woman approaching. She’s in her early seventies or late sixties, its hard to tell. Her hair is thick and gray, with tight curls that are pushed up in a messy bun. Her robes move with her body to create a mix of watercolors, they barely cover the giant medical boot on her ankle.

“Oh, uh,” Annabeth shifts in her shoes, “I’m looking for Piper.”

A loving smile spreads onto the woman’s lips. “Pip is in the back room. She should be out for a break soon.”

“Okay, is there some place I could get a start on my homework?” She wonders.

“In the back, on the other side of the records,” the woman directs, “or you can do it at the counter. That’s where Austin normally sets up shop.”

Annabeth nearly gawks, “You trust me behind the counter?”

“I trust Pip’s friends behind the counter,” she confirms. From her robes she extends a hand. “I’m Trinity, the kids call me Miss Trinity or Miss Trin..”

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Annabeth smiles, “I’m Annabeth. Nice to meet you.”

“You as well,” Trinity returns. “And I mean it, work wherever you’d like. We have tea in the back room if you need any.”

“Thank you so much.”

“Of course,” she nods, “I’ll be putzing around the record shelves if you need anything.”

Miss Trinity flows off towards the records. Annabeth watches her, hesitant to move to the counter, but when she appears to mean it, she walks to the front.

The front desk is a little cluttered, in a cozy way. Besides the brass antique cash register, boxes of stamps and pins align the side of the counter for customers to buy. A cardboard pop out holds new CDs. A stool with a soft cushion and back is sat behind the register. On the wall, a chalkboard is decorated in different colors to advertise what albums would be included in their next inventory delivery. Incense burns somewhere around her. Other than that, little nick-nacks of all sorts are clustered about. Some made of wood, some crocheted or sculpted, but all displaying odd creatures, flowers, animals, and anything else under the sun.

Annabeth unloads her homework and tosses her bag on the back of the stool. She locates a large pen with a French Horn eraser stuck to the top and begins on her homework.

She’s not working long before the stream of music from a flute dies. Moments later, Piper emerges from the back room. She’s ditched her leather jacket, showing off her tanned arms and a couple stick ‘n poke tattoos dotting her wrists and shoulders. Her eyes widen when she spots Annabeth.

“You came,” Piper states blankly as she walks over.

Annabeth gives her a grim smile, “Seemed as good a place as any to do homework.”

“Yeah and I’m here,” the girl smirks. She leans against the counter, twisting her fingers into Annabeth’s. “That’s a bonus.”

“Or a distraction,” Annabeth retorts dryly.

Piper rolls her eyes, “You wound me. Did you meet Trin?”

“Yes,” she nods. “She gave me counter privileges.”

“Ah, she must like you.”

Annabeth studies Piper for a moment. Her eyes are lively, the way they only get when she’s playing music, and she’s vaguely breathless - her voice sounding a smidge deeper. It gets under her skin in a new, good way. She can’t bite her tongue.

“What’s up?” Piper breaks her train of thought.

“Huh?”

“We’ve gone over this,” she explains, “I know you. What’s going on in that big head of yours?”

She lays over the counter, poking her teasingly on the forehead. Annabeth blushes.

“Yeah, I have something to tell you,” she murmurs.

Piper’s face clouds over and she pushes back to increase space between them. Their hands separate. “Okay, lay it on me.”

Annabeth twirls the pen in her hand, “It’s about the seminar.”

“Alright…”

“Percy asked if he could still go.”

Piper’s face doesn’t change. She’s clearly too stunned to speak. Annabeth wishes she could read Piper’s mind as easily as Piper could read hers. Years have gone but she remains as sharp as a whip.

“And you said yes,” she finishes the thought, “because otherwise you wouldn’t have told me.”

“Yeah. It’s big for his future, too. It felt too selfish to say no,” Annabeth explains.

Piper purses her lips as she mulls it over. A beat or two passes before she sucks in a breath and shrugs.

“Yeah, okay,” she levels.

Annabeth raises an eyebrow, “That’s it?”

“I mean, yeah,” Piper nods.

The blonde is hesitant, “You can be mad.”

“I’m not,” she insists. “It’s gonna be awkward as hell, sure. But it’s not like this was gonna be about us, it’s for our futures. And Percy’s cool, he likes me.”

Annabeth frowns, “Because he doesn’t know about us.”

Piper’s face falls, “So we act like we do when we’re in public - at least until you figure out what you want to tell him.”

Her hands begin to play with one another as Annabeth averts her eyes, “I’m sorry to keep doing this to you.”

“I agreed to it,” Piper replies automatically. Her tone is dark.

The two girls sit in their guilt. The previously light tone when Piper had emerged from the back room has evaporated quickly.

“Well, it got quiet in here!” Miss Trinity notices as she waltzes over. She has a stack of records in her hands.

Piper clears her throat, “Yeah, we got distracted.”

“Sometimes distractions lead to the best art,” the music mentor states nonchalantly, like it isn’t profound advice that she’s dropping out of nowhere.

“That’s my cue to get back to it,” Piper adds.

Annabeth nods in understanding. She gestures to her papers on the counter, “Me, too.”

As she steps away, Piper shoots Annabeth the tiniest wink. It’s not flirty or sassy, it’s a simple gesture that settles both their nerves and uncomfortableness at the reality Percy joining them represents. It puts Annabeth at ease, washing away the worries she had when standing outside the shop.

Piper disappears back into her practice room, leaving Annabeth alone at the front of the store with Miss Trinity. She focuses back on her schoolwork, not wanting to distract anyone further. And with her mind clear, AP calculus is easier to dissect.

Miss Trinity comes over and begins fiddling with the brass cash register. Her eyes wander over to Annabeth’s worksheet.

“Ugh,” she groans, “I was absolute rubbish at math. Pip used to ask me for help when Tristan was working, and we both would end up in tears.”

Annabeth smiles fondly, “Math has always been my favorite. The numbers and equations are reliable.”

“Hmm,” Trinity hums, “are there people in your life who are unreliable?”

Frederick and Sheila immediately pop into her head. For as long as she can remember, she’s been raising herself. When things go wrong, it’s easier to fix it herself than bring Frederick’s shame and judgements into the mix.

“The only thing my dad is reliable at, is being unreliable,” she answers.

Miss Trinity ‘tsks’ under her breath. “It never ceases to amaze me how easily the ignoramuses of our species manage to reproduce.”

“You can say that again,” Annabeth agrees. This time the shadowy image of her mom begins to haunt her conscious. She frowns, “At least my mom recognized she wasn’t cut out for it and left before she could do any more harm.”

Trinity’s gaze finds her, her eyebrows furrowing in concern. Annabeth feels the bad heat of embarrassment flush her cheeks.

“I-I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me,” she stammers, “I don’t normally just - I’m sorry. We just met.”

“Oh dear,” Miss Trinity softens. “You have nothing to apologize for. I have this effect on people.”

Annabeth chuckles, “You’re just saying that.”

The older woman shakes her head, “Not at all. Poor Austin cried during his job interview. He’s worked here ever since.”

“I guess that’s a compliment,” Annabeth responds. “You make people feel at ease.”

“I guess so,” Trinity agrees. Her long, ringed fingers are flipping through some cash and receipts that are being housed in the register. “How do you know Piper, Annabeth?”

She sits back in the stool, a little caught off guard. She supposes this question was coming.

“We’re friends,” she settles on. “We used to be best friends, but I, uh, messed it up. I think I’m fixing it now, though.”

Understanding dawns on Miss Trinity’s face. “Oh, yes! You’re that Annabeth. I remember you.”

“Really?”

“Yes of course!” She gushes, “Pip used to talk about you all the time. She stopped, but never would tell me why. I swear, sometimes that girl is so guarded, it’s a miracle she lets people in at all.”

Annabeth ponders over her words, suddenly aware of the mournful flute sounds emerging from the back room again.

“I’m grateful she’s giving me another chance,” she admits quietly.

Trinity lays a hand on Annabeth’s shoulder, “Like I said, anyone Piper trusts, I trust. She’s got a good bullshit radar. There’s a reason she’s letting you back in. Heck, there’s a reason she let you here.”

“What do you mean?” Annabeth raises an eyebrow.

“You’re the first friend of Piper’s I’ve met,” Miss Trinity says simply. She collects a few things from below the counter before shutting the register, and walking off. She’s humming under her breath as she goes.

Annabeth lets Trinity’s words sit with her. A fuzzy feeling settles in her ribcage. She knew this place was special to Piper. They had been at each other’s side when Piper found her love for piano, and witnessed how Miss Trinity stepped in as a role model when Piper needed it. She had assumed Hazel or Leo or someone else close had been allowed behind the curtain, but the fact that she was permitted made it extra special.

Slowly, Annabeth packs her bag back up. She leaves it hanging on the back of the chair, before sneaking through the aisles to the back room. She’s not sure why, but being found by Trinity pulling Piper away from her practice feels like getting caught sneaking into her room at night.

The door to the back room is cracked open. As she approaches, Annabeth can hear the delicate arrangement hitting her ears. It’s relaxing. From this angle, she can see Piper sitting on a stool, facing the adjacent wall. Her back and shoulders are perfectly straight, holding her flute up in a sharp triangle.

Annabeth watches for a few seconds. Piper’s eyes are wide, zoning in on the sheet music in front of her, but her eyelashes flutter rapidly as she moves through the notes. Meanwhile, her slender fingers gently but assertively move along the keys. She reaches a part of the song where the speed kicks up, and for a split second, Annabeth can’t see her fingers move. Her head dips and moves as she readjusts.

And her lips, Annabeth is mesmerized by Piper’s lips and breath. They stay pursed, resting over the lip plate and after long periods, she ducks in a huge breath to settle back on the instrument. She uses the same breath to flip the page in front of her, returning to the flow of music without missing a beat.

Piper’s eyes suddenly flicker over to the door, immediately her fingers slip and the music in the room dies with one last, tightly sharp note.

“I didn’t see you,” Piper’s cheeks redden. She sets her flute down on the nearby keyboard.

Annabeth blinks, “You sounded amazing.”

“I butchered the pitch,” she admits, “I always do at the tempo change. Trin says I have to be patient.”

“I got a little time with her today,” Annabeth explains. “She seems incredibly wise.”

Piper relaxes, “Yeah, she is. She’s a great mentor.”

She steps into the room, “Thank you for inviting me here.”

“It’s nothing,” the other girl shakes her head, “I thought you would like it.”

Annabeth takes a seat in the large chair beside Piper’s. She’s intimately aware of how their positioning mirrors the first time they kissed, when she took a risk and closed the distance on her keyboard bench.

“I do,” she agrees, “it’s relaxing.”

Piper leans into Annabeth, “It is.”

They sit in that silence, enjoying each other's company. A couple candles and blossoming plants decorate this room. It feels like a sanctuary.

“I meant it when I said you can be angry,” Annabeth permits.

Piper lets out a breath, “We don’t have to talk about it anymore.”

“Are you sure?” She doubts.

“Confident,” the other girl repeats. “I said I’d be by your side and I will be. We can make it through this. Not to mention, this benefits me too…”

Annabeth puts her hands up in defense, “Okay, I’ll stop asking.”

“Good.”

“I do have one thing to ask,” she adds on.

Piper’s eyebrows shoot up, “Yes?”

“Play a song,” she requests. “You can pick, piano or flute. Just play something you think I’d like.”

“You don’t even know what you like,” Piper laughs. “That’s a tough ask.”

Annabeth eyes up the door teasingly, “Okay, I guess I’ll just get going then…”

“No, no, just let me think,” Piper grabs her hand to keep her in place.

After a moment of thought, she clears her throat. She places her flute off the keyboard, back to its case on the other side of her. She then stretches out, cracking her knuckles.

Piper eyes her up, “I haven’t played this one in a while, alright?”

Annabeth nods. Her eyes are already watching as Piper’s nimble hands gently play a few practice notes on the keyboard. They ring in the air, echoing through the room. Piper adjusts in her seat and on steps on a couple pedals, then, sucks in a breath and begins.

The melody ascends into the air pleasantly. Annabeth can faintly recognize the song, still unaware of where it might be from. It builds, Piper’s hands moving in a completely different way than they do on the flute. It leaves Annabeth in awe. Her eyelashes still flutter up and down, only this time her lips are forming invisible words as she strikes down on the keys.

Annabeth gets lost in the music. She understands how someone can be addicted to this, how they can dedicate their life to this. Above all else, she’s reminded of why Piper should be doing this for the rest of her life. The way she plays is clear, full of passion and strength. Thousands of people should witness this, they’d emerge a different person.

Quicker than she would’ve liked, the song draws to an end. The last few chords vibrate through her, rattling her till goosebumps rise on her arms.

When the song finishes, Piper turns to look at her expectantly. Her lips are downturn, colorful eyes wide and vulnerable. A soft redness is vaguely painted on her cheeks from working.

“What did you think?” She wonders in a whisper.

Annabeth’s hand wraps around Piper’s bare bicep, yanking her closer. Their lips bind together like a puzzle piece, and with their new experience with one another, each kiss gets better. Piper's hand comes around and cups Annabeth’s cheek, deepening the kiss. A moan escapes her mouth, her body leaning into the shape of Piper’s. The air around them is hot, making them burn up - or maybe it’s Piper’s tongue begging for entrance.

Suddenly, Annabeth pulls back. Piper bites her own lip, adding to the space. The two clear their throats in unison.

“Got a little carried away there,” Piper glances away bashfully.

“It’s okay,” Annabeth’s voice cracks, “I just…It got really hot.”

Piper laughs loud enough to draw attention at the store next door. Annabeth’s already hot face grows hotter yet.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” she insists.

“I know,” the other girl giggles still, “but it was funny.”

Annabeth scratches her neck, “I liked it, obviously. Just…maybe we can pump on the breaks till things are a little…more clear with Percy.”

“Annabeth,” Piper’s voice grows serious. “We’re on the same page. I wasn’t going to deflower you, or whatever. Especially not on the floor in Miss Trinity’s shop.”

This time, it’s Annabeth who laughs. “Deflower? Are you from the 1800s?”

“You know what I mean.”

She grabs Piper’s hand. “I appreciate it.”

“Although,” the brunette teases, “that wasn’t anything we hadn’t done before…”

“I was drunk then.”

Piper cringes, “That makes me sound like a pervert.”

“We were both drunk,” Annabeth relents.

“That sounds better.”

“We can still make out,” she insists. “I…really like that part.”

Piper grins, kissing her on the nose. “I do, too.”

Annabeth gets caught staring at Piper, again. This time, Piper’s staring back. She gets caught in the gravity of her gaze. She can feel Piper taking in all the aspects of her face and instead of pulling away, she lets her see the scars.

“Unfortunately,” Piper begins in a sing-song voice. “I do have to get back to my flute.”

“Ugh,” Annabeth sighs. “I should probably get home. I’m having a hard time doing my work here.”

“I’ll talk to you later?” She ponders.

“You know where to find me,” Annabeth agrees as she gets to her feet.

They share a knowing look before she walks out the door. Her heart pounds excitedly as she realizes that she really would hear from Piper later, this is their new reality.

Annabeth recovers her bag from behind the counter. Miss Trinity is wishing farewell to a customer, a new guitar case swung over their shoulder.

As she spies Annabeth leaving, Trinity smiles, “Leaving so soon?”

“Unfortunately,” she politely frowns, “I gotta get home.”

“Alright,” the older woman sighs, “I hope we see you again. We always make space for you here, especially when others may not.”

Annabeth finds a large smile on her lips. “Thank you, I’ll remember that.”

“You better!” Miss Trinity calls at her as she’s walking towards the door.

She leaves the store feeling satisfied - and truly grateful. Mending bridges with Piper has helped her heal the old wounds she inflicted. And somehow, in turn, her life continues to grow and expand to new people who have her back. It’s a gift that keeps on giving.

When her mind drifts to handling the seminar with Piper and Percy, that stress is no longer there. She feels ready to tackle it, and hopeful that it will answer her nagging questions about how to handle Percy.

Chapter Text

The whole week feels like a dream. Piper’s busy as hell, a schedule completely jam-packed with school, flute, band extracurriculars and her time with Leo and Hazel. Yet, she powers through it with a smile on her face and butterflies in her veins because of the newest addition of Annabeth.

Call it denial or procrastination, but life feels easier. She finds comfort in being Annabeth’s secret supporter, a shadow in her corner that lends her strength. She can’t wipe the easy smile that lingers on her lips whenever Annabeth is around. When they are apart, her presence lasts - negative emotions enter her brain with difficulty and circle down the drain with twice as much ease.

And they squeeze each second they can get, in public or private. Some days Annabeth pops by the music shop, working on her homework at the counter with Austin and taking breaks distracting Piper in the back room. She continues to surprise her with songs, none of which Annabeth recognizes. Other times, Piper makes the short trip to the Chase household. They hold themselves up either in Annabeth’s room or the basement, depending on who’s home. They watch movies, Piper forces Annabeth to listen to albums on an old record player, languishing in their tangled limbs and secret touches.

School changes slowly. Their morning rides continue, Annabeth starts to provide Piper with a morning coffee, too. They exchange their dreams from the night before, no matter how silly or twisted they get. Their smiles are sleepy and voices groggy, but somehow they continue to find more to talk about. Despite Annabeth’s protests, Piper continues to shoot Dr. Chase dirty glares and middle-fingers behind his back when they cross paths in the driveway. Sometimes she can catch Annabeth trying not to smile.

At school, they exchange winks when they pass by in the halls. Annabeth pops up beside Piper’s locker after lunch to check-in and sometimes meet up during their overlapping study halls - if Annabeth is caught up enough on her homework. And occasionally when she isn’t, so that they can help one another with flashcards or proof-read essays.

Piper isn’t sure how they’ve come back together seamlessly when the unshakeable guilt and chaos of it all feels like the Sword of Damocles hanging above their heads, waiting to strike. She’s not going to question it, not when it feels like this.

Besides, she’s only following Annabeth’s lead, right?

“So, you’re not at all worried about the seminar?” Hazel proves. She’s lounging on Piper’s bed, head propped up on her hand.

Piper digs through her closet. “Worried about what I’m going to wear, sure.”

“That’s all?” Leo doubts. He’s at her keyboard, tinkering around with the different settings and keys. No matter what he does, he’s nearly tone-deaf on anything that’s not a trumpet.

“Yeah,” Piper confirms. She holds up an old blue dress, “What about this?”

Hazel shakes her head, Leo feigns vomiting.

“Loud and clear,” she grumbles. The blue dress gets tossed aside.

“I would be worried,” Leo continues. “What if the chemistry between you and Annabeth is so palpable that Percy catches on?”

Piper snorts, “And, what if? That’s a huge if. I mean, you’ve been around us sometimes. Would you catch on?”

Hazel shrugs, “Probably not, but Percy knows Annabeth better than us. I would be more concerned that it’s going to be a long, uncomfortable night. Like, extremely awkward.”

“Thanks guys,” she remarks dryly, “how did I get blessed with supportive friends like you all?”

“We just wanna make sure you’re prepared, is all,” Hazel insists.

Leo points at her with a nod, “Yeah, keep that in mind when your mouth wants to run with those sarcastic remarks.”

“All I’m hearing are your guys’ worries,” Piper explains.

She pulls out a blouse and tight pants. Immediately, her friends shake their heads again. She groans, tossing them aside. “No solutions pitched from you yet, for either my outfit or the awkwardness.”

“Wear something red,” Leo rolls his eyes. He’s clearly half-heartedly invested in this portion of the conversation.

Hazel coughs, “Nope. Red is not your color.”

“I had red in my hair,” Piper comments weakly.

“That’s not your whole body,” her friend explains. “How about purple? Like a dark purple? It would make your eyes pop.”

“Uh, Haze, are you color blind?” Leo laughs. “Pipes’s eyes aren’t purple. They’re…” he pauses, studying them, “something else…”

Piper frowns, “Again, no solutions.”

“Green!” Leo claps in announcement. “Your eyes aren’t green, but you should wear green.”

Dejectedly, Piper flops next to Hazel on her bed. She lets out a large sigh.

“Why so glum, plum?” Hazel peers at her hesitantly.

“Plum?” Leo and Piper question in unison.

Bashfully, Hazel averts her gaze. “That’s what my dad always says when I’m sad.”

Piper gasps, “Your hot dad!”

With a groan and bright red cheeks, Hazel grabs a pillow to cover her face. Leo cackles hysterically, practically falling off the bench.

A quiet knock at the door pulls their attention. Tristan is leaning in the doorway, “Did I hear hot dad?”

Piper groans, stealing the pillow away from Hazel to cover her own face.

“Yes you did, sir,” Leo giggles, “and yes, you are. Own it, you silver fox.”

Tristan’s smile fades slightly, “Silver fox?”

The look of bewilderment on his face catches Piper off guard, throwing her into another fit of laughter.

Hazel smirks, “You have to admit it, Mr. McLean, you’re growing a little gray.”

He waves them off, “Whatever. I didn’t come in here to be bullied.”

“Whatcha need?” Piper asks through her stifled laughter.

“Checking in with you before New York tomorrow,” he explains. “I’m heading into my shift and won’t be back till Sunday morning. How are we feeling?”

Piper feels the three sets of eyes fall on her again. She sits back up on her bed.

“Other than my inability to find something to wear, fine,” she answers. “We’re leaving tomorrow at noon, I’ll text you when we check in at the hotel.”

“Sounds good,” Tristan snaps his fingers. “Text me how the event goes, too. And when you’re leaving. Remember, I’m a call away.”

“Thanks.”

Tristan pauses in the doorway, his eyes sticking to Piper. He crosses his arms over his chest. “What are our options for outfits?”

She gets to her feet, “Not much.”

“It’s black tie,” Hazel adds. “We’re struggling to find something that makes Piper still be Piper and is black tie.”

“And makes her eyes pop,” Leo points out seriously.

Tristan purses his lips, “I’m sure you’ll find something. And in case you don’t…”

He steps into the room, pulling out his wallet. He thumbs through some cash and hands over a wad. Piper stares at it.

“Dad, no,” she rejects. “You already paid for my ticket.”

“You’ve been working hard,” he insists. His hand stays extended out to her.

Leo chuckles, “Yeah, she has!”

Hazel shoots a glare at Leo sharp enough to cut through wood. Tristan doesn’t notice it or doesn’t care.

Hesitantly, Piper takes the money. “Thank you,” she tells him earnestly.

“You bet, Pipes,” he slips the wallet back in his pocket. “Love you and be safe.”

“Love you, always do,” she follows-up robotically.

Tristan exits the room, leaving the trio alone again. Leo peers over from his chair, trying to get a good look at Piper’s palms.

“How much did Daddy Warbucks give you?” He teases.

Piper flips through it, “A hundred.”

“Shopping trip!” Hazel cheers.

“No, no,” she shakes her head. “I’ll find a dress somewhere in here. I’ll save the money.”

Leo groans, “Alright, keep digging then. But I’m going to need actual honesty about this awkwardness.”

“I’m not nervous,” Piper insists again. “Annabeth chose to kiss me, multiple times. She chose to keep me a secret, and she chose to ask for space from Percy. I’m there for Juilliard and as her support. That’s all. Percy and I get along fine.”

Hazel purses her lips, “You don’t think that’s a little…compartmentalized?”

“Or denying the morally gray role you’ve played in it all?” Leo tacked on.

“Hmm, no,” Piper returns flatly.

She pulls out another dress from the closet, one from far too long ago to still fit, and tosses it aside without another glance. She digs out one last dress, holding it up for her friends.

Hazel gasps, “That’s the best.”

“Save your money,” Leo’s eyes are wide in agreement, “this one is perfect.”

Piper smiles, hanging the deep purple dress on the back of the closet door. She doesn’t remember where she wore it, but she remembers Miss Trinity begging her to let her buy it.

“And,” Hazel teases Leo by sticking her tongue out, “it’s purple.”

“Whatever,” Leo gets to his feet. He waves off the girls. “With all our missions accomplished today,” he shoots Piper a skeptical look, “or at least he dress one…I gotta get to Cal’s. She needs an oil change.”

Hazel giggles. Piper bites her lip to keep from laughing, “Is that some sort of innuendo?”

Leo’s face turns the color of marinara sauce, “No! Her car literally needs an oil change. I told her I’d reach her.”

“Uh-huh,” Hazel smirks. “And kissing definitely won’t be involved…”

He scratches the back of his neck, “I didn’t say that…”

Piper laughs, she slaps him on the back as he goes.

In his absence, her and Hazel focus on her outfit for tomorrow with a renewed tenacity. They nitpick the smallest details, something Piper normally doesn’t bother doing. Yes, she likes fashion in the way that she collects shit she likes in her closet, wakes up and throws on whatever she feels like. Sometimes it matches, sometimes it doesn’t. For this specific occasion, however, that method isn’t going to work.

They do her nails. Hazel is a secret manicure prodigy, having taught herself the basics when she had gotten a bad concussion a few years ago. Being unable to use electronics, she had refocused that bored energy elsewhere and had saved herself, and on occasion, Piper, hundreds of dollars on nails. They also selected a cute, but comfortable pair of small heels and planned how she was going to do her hair. And, to top it all off, Piper had no shortage of jewelry to be the icing on the cake.

Hazel leaves when they complete each aspect of the outfit. She gave Piper a reassuring squeeze of the hand as she departed, along with a sly smile. Although Piper claimed on repeat that she didn’t feel nervous, and she doesn’t think she did, it does settle whatever second-thoughts she was having.

Piper spends the rest of the night packing for the short weekend vacation. She makes sure to include a swimsuit. If her parents taught her anything, it’s to take advantage of the free pool when staying at a hotel for free. She tosses in her basics - ibruprofen, bathroom essentials, pajamas, and her makeup. She digs into her father’s closet to find a garment bag, before falling onto the couch in the living room ready to rewatch Veronica Mars.

As if sensing her desire to veg out, her phone’s ringtone startled her awake. A photo of Annabeth, that they had taken while ‘studying’ in the library, is lighting up the screen.

“Hello?” Piper answers.

“What are you wearing?” Annabeth’s voice sounds like it’s coming from a distance on the other end.

Piper raises an eyebrow, “Uh…okay, I didn’t know you’re into that…sweatpants and a tank top?”

“Not right now, perv,” Annabeth responds. “And you’re on speakerphone, Will is right here.”

“Hi, Will,” she calls.

“Hi, Piper,” a quieter, male voice says.

“What are you wearing tomorrow?” Annabeth clarifies.

“A dress,” she retorts, “but other than that it’s a surprise.”

A groan comes through the phone. “That’s completely not helpful.”

“Sorry,” she shrugs - completely not sorry. “I thought you would’ve had this picked out like, two months ago.”

“I was going to wear the black dress I wore to that dinner with my dad but someone got s'mores on it and I can’t get the marshmallow out,” Annabeth complains.

“Don’t look at me, I didn’t touch you with marshmallow hands.”

“Get a room,” Will barks.

The two girls ignore him. Piper moves on, “I’m sure you have something else that’ll look great. Don’t you go to enough of these hoighty-toighty events?”

Annabeth groans again, “Just get over here, okay?”

“Please, Piper,” Will begs. “I’m gay but I’m not ‘Say Yes to the Dress’ gay.”

She sighs, “Fine. But you’re watching Veronica Mars with me after.”

She hangs up before either of the two can respond. Dragging her feet a tad, she puts her snacks away and puts on her shoes to make the trek across the lawn.

Will’s car is, unsurprisingly, in the driveway. No one else appears to be home, though, so Piper lets herself in. She momentarily debates climbing the tree to scare the pair, but decides against it. She still has a bruise on her thigh from where the roof had tried to impale her.

The Chase household is quiet. She finds the door to Annabeth’s room open, Will messing around with Annabeth’s bookshelf while Annabeth is in the bathroom changing. It’s not all that different than the scene in her room only a few hours ago.

“Hey, Piper,” Will waves.

Piper isn’t too familiar with Will. She knows he’s smart, they’ve shared a couple science classes over the years and he’s friends with Austin, who is always vouching for his tutoring skills. She found him a little intimidating, with his perfect tan no matter the weather and curly, sun-bleached hair, he’s the kind of guy who’s effortlessly attractive. Smart and hardworking on top of that seems unfair. But as they’ve spent more time together, Annabeth has mentioned how she confided in Will and the help he gave her. He leaves Piper no choice but to love him.

“Will,” she smiles. “Tell me, how are we doing?”

He cringes, “It’s bleak. She has tons of dresses, all that look great, she’s being picky.”

“Why?”

He narrows his gaze at her, “I think we both know why.”

Piper knows what he means immediately. She nods, “Maybe she’ll listen to the both of us.”

Will makes a noncommittal sound before plucking a book off the shelf and beginning to thumb through it.

With Annabeth busy in the bathroom and Will apparently engrossed in his new book, Piper plops down on Annabeth’s bed.

In their week together, she has seen Annabeth’s room a couple times. For a not-so-secret reason, though, she had been distracted. With the time to take it in now, Piper is able to realize how much and how little the room has changed since their childhood.

The last time Piper had been in this room, it had been a blush pink. A large doll house had been tucked to the side, other than that it had been relatively undecorated. Piper can remember the intricate storylines they wrote together sitting on their knees in front of the house. The bed set was matching pink, a handful of stuffed animals sat on top. A family portrait was the lone frame on the wall, Annabeth smiling numbly in comparison to the rest of the Chase family.

Annabeth’s room now is an off-white, but all the furniture was in the same spot. Her bedspread is a powder blue, no stuffed animals to be found. The family photo had been removed. Where the doll house stood, a standing mirror is angled into the room. Polaroids and photos of Annabeth with Percy, Silena, and a couple of other popular students in their grade were tucked into the side of the mirror’s frame. A big calendar is hung up above her dresser, Annabeth’s handwriting in different colors is leaving almost no white space on the large board. A heavy wooden bookcase is full of all sorts and sizes of books.

It’s all completely different from Piper’s room. Annabeth’s is hardly lived in, besides the few photos and well-loved novels. All clothes and signs of life are tucked away, with the exception of a small pile of discarded dresses. While Piper’s room is lived in, each inch a sign of her interests, memories, and simply existing in a home in which she’s loved.

The door to the bathroom opens, Annabeth practically stumbling out of it. She’s messier than Piper has ever seen her. Her hair is a tangled web, falling in strands over her eyes. A slightly wrinkled, sage green dress that is far too short for the seminar is practically glued to her skin.

“Finally!” She gushes when she sees Piper.

“Finally!” Piper repeats sarcastically. “Let’s make this quick, I just spent many hours doing the same thing for myself and I want to chill.”

Annabeth finds a pair of sandals near her mirror and starts putting them on. “Fine, fine,” she turns around, “how is this one?”

Will and Piper exchange a glance. She’s starting to realize the Herculean task she had assigned Hazel and Leo.

“What else do you have?” Piper asks innocently.

Annabeth flips her shoes off, launching them across her bed. A gutteral sound of frustration escapes her mouth. She throws her hands up.

“No!” She exclaims. “This is the 9th dress!”

Will levels a balanced stare at her, “I’m sure there’s one you’ve forgotten about in your closet.”

“How would you know, Will?” Annabeth snaps.

Piper hides her laugh. It seems comical to her that this level of anger could be brought on by hunting for a dress. That said, laughing wouldn’t add anything to the situation.

“It’s fine,” Annabeth rants, “I’ll just show up looking like trash tomorrow. None of my schools will be impressed, I won’t get my dad’s approval, I’ll rot under the bridge besides the 7-11.”

“You can charge people to pass over the bridge,” Will suggests with a hint of humor, “a little toll troll, y’know?”

Annabeth shoots him a withering glare. “You don’t get it.”

With that, she storms back into the bathroom. The door slams shut behind her. A dead silence hangs in the air.

Will clears his throat, “You should go talk to her. I would but I don’t think she finds me very helpful in this situation.”

Piper doesn’t move. Her feet are hesitant to make the journey. She has a sinking feeling why Annabeth is in this mood, and she isn’t confident she can find the right words.

“Besides,” he adds, “we both know I’m not the one she wants to hear from.”

He has a point, maybe her attempt at finding the words would be enough. Sighing, Piper walks up to the bathroom door. She knocks gently.

“Annabeth,” she cautiously whispers, “can I come in?”

A pause.

“Only if you have a dress,” she grumbles.

Piper cocks her head, “I don’t, but I think I have something better.”

Another pause keeps them separated. Then -

“Come in.”

Slowly, like one would approach a dangerous animal, Piper pushes the door open and lets it click back behind her.

She finds Annabeth sitting on the ground, slouched against the bathtub. She’s back in a pair of shorts and a sports bra, her tan skin splotchy with red from stress. Her gray eyes glance up at Piper, looking like she witnessed a puppy getting kicked.

“Hey,” Piper soothes. She sits besides Annabeth, leaning on the opposite wall in order to face her.

“Sorry for being dramatic,” Annabeth immediately fesses up. “I’ll apologize to Will, too.”

Piper gives her an understanding smile, “Don’t be sorry. He and I both know how stressful this is.”

“Looking for a dress?” She snorts. “There’s bigger issues out there.”

“Yes,” Piper grants, “but give yourself some grace. There’s more going on here than the dress.”

Annabeth throws her head back with a wince, “I felt fine all week. Truly. And then I couldn’t get the marshmallow out of my dress and I…”

She gestures to herself, “Well, now I’m like this.”

“That’s okay. Your emotions are allowed to change.”

Piper reaches out and takes the other girl’s hand. She lets their clasped palms dangle between their legs.

“You could show up in a potato sack, and you would still win over each and every school you talk to tomorrow,” Piper says calmly. “You’re Anna Elizabeth Chase. You have extracurriculars up the wazoo, like a million hours of community service, test scores that students’ dream of, and I’m pretty sure the entire staff of Goode High has written you a recommendation letter at some point.”

Annabeth laughs, but it comes out like a sniffle. “So do all of the other applicants.”

“But they don’t have your charm,” Piper argues. “All those applicants are antisocial nerds who do nothing but homework. You’re charismatic.”

“Pipes, I do nothing but homework.”

Piper shoots her a pointed look.

“I get what you mean,” Annabeth finally admits.

“Are you maybe…” she continues tentatively, “stressed about something else?”

Sarcastically, the blonde snorts, “You and Percy? You think highly of yourself.”

Piper doesn’t give into the joke. She narrows her eyes at her, demanding the truth.

Annabeth sighs, “Okay, yeah, probably. Can you blame me?”

“No,” she answers sympathetically.

“What if Percy figures this out,” she postures. “It would be the worst possible time. He’d be devastated, might make a scene, it could throw him and I off our game for the admissions directors and…that’s not accounting for how he wouldn’t be hearing it from me.”

Piper nods, “Leo thought the same thing. But I don’t think he can read minds. Besides, Percy encouraged our friendship, right?”

“Yeah,” Annabeth mumbles dejectedly.

“Listen,” she sighs, “I’m not going to lie. On paper, you’re doing a pretty despicable thing.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“However, it’s a complicated situation,” Piper admits. “I’m not an ethics professor, but I think intentions and moral history are important. You’re doing one morally gray thing, because you don’t know how to be honest about feelings you haven’t figured out yourself. That doesn’t erase all the good things you’ve done - like your thousands of volunteer hours that I’m confident the universities will geek out over.”

Annabeth blinks. She wipes at the spots of wetness around her eyes, “I have to figure this out soon.”

“Yes,” Piper agrees. She gets to her feet, pulling Annabeth up with her. “Maybe we can solve an easier problem right now, though?”

A grim smile replaces Annabeth’s sullenness, “Thank you,” she murmurs.

Jokingly, Piper winks, “Any time. Although next time, maybe we can have an emotional reckoning somewhere other than a bathroom.”

Annabeth laughs, “It is becoming a habit.”

The two girls exit the bathroom and reemerge feeling refreshed. Will is reading his book, but snaps it shut when he sees the girls. He scrambles to sit up.

“Ladies,” he smiles, “how are we doing?”

“Ready to check my closet again,” Annabeth announces, putting on a beam that almost hides her tired eyes.

He claps, “Great!”

“Let’s see what we’re working with,” Piper walks over to Annabeth’s closet.

That’s another big difference between their two rooms. Piper has a large dresser and a clothing rack shoved haphazardly in her room. Annabeth has a small, yet spacious enough walk-in adjoined to her bedroom in addition to her en suite bathroom.

She pulls the door open. The clothes are all neatly arranged by season, type of attire, and color. Piper is able to find the dress section in seconds. Multiple clothing hangers are empty, their dresses discarded on the floor outside the bathroom.

Piper flicks through the options while Annabeth collects the dress pile to return. As she suspected, there’s plenty of other options for their night. Piper has no doubt that each of these were bought for similar events that Frederick drags the Chase household out to.

She ignores all the short dresses. The invitation specified black tie, and while Piper is new to this, she knows that normally implies floor-length. That limits her options to a couple. A dark blue, shimmery satin similar to the black dress she wore the night of the bonfire. She pushes that aside, her eye caught by a lush cream hidden in the far back.

“Try this on,” Piper urged, taking it off the rack.

Annabeth glances over at it. Her eyes soften, “Oh, I forgot about that one.”

“I like it,” Piper adds. The fabric is soft, delicate between her fingers. She holds it up, revealing that it’s off the shoulder, with intricately crafted lace flowers that are only visible up close with the light hits it right.

“I’ll try it on,” Annabeth takes it from her, dashing out of the closet.

Secretly Piper sends up a prayer that this dress works. She exits the closet too.

“I think that’ll be the one,” Will proclaims. Annabeth has already hidden herself back in the bathroom.

“Hopefully,” Piper grins.

“She was smiling when she went into the bathroom,” he explains, “and was excited. She didn’t do that with the others.”

Hesitantly the door to the bathroom creaks open, Annabeth peaks her head around the corner.

“I think I’m going with this one,” she’s smiling shyly.

“Come on out!” Will encourages, “I’m on the edge of my seat.”

Annabeth pulls the door open the rest of the way. She takes a puny step out, her arms tucked behind her back sheepishly.

The dress is stunning. It molds to Annabeth’s body like it was made for her. The cream fabric pops on her tan skin and her honey hair appears extra shiny. Now that it’s being worn, the lace flowers feel like a secret for those who get close enough to see them. The strapless neckline extenuates the sharpness of her collarbones and curve of her neck, the combination of it all leaves Piper breathless.

Thankfully, Will whistles. “Wow, Annabeth, this is…”

“Gorgeous,” Piper finishes. Her cheeks are heating up. She’s suddenly aware of Will’s presence.

“Thanks, guys,” Annabeth flushes. “I don’t know if it’s the dress itself or Piper’s pep talk, but I’m going to go with this one. The dress doesn’t matter, my attitude does.”

“I’m glad,” she replies. “But that’s definitely the right dress.”

Will finds one of the abandoned shoes on the ground, handing them over. They’re a short heel and a silvery white that matches the dress perfectly. “You should wear these,” he suggests.

Annabeth accepts them, but sets them aside. She gives them both a grateful smile.

“I’ll put them on tomorrow,” she explains. “I’m going to get out of this dress, and then maybe we can order food in and watch Veronica Mars like I promised Piper.”

Will grins, “I’ll order pizza.”

“Ooo, order garlic knots too,” Piper suggests.

He nods, pulling his phone and stepping into the hallway to make the call.

With him on the other side of the door, Annabeth walks over and kisses Piper on the cheek.

“One of these days you’re going to have an emotional breakdown and I’ll comfort you,” she teases.

“I look forward to it,” Piper jokes. “Although, I’m getting pretty good at it.”

“You definitely are,” Annabeth laughs. She turns around, heading back into the bathroom to change.

Will returns, promising delivery in the next thirty minutes or so. They start assembling a comfy area on Annabeth’s bed. Piper pulls the covers over herself, ready for a comfy night in before their undoubtedly eventful night tomorrow.

~*~*~*~

Will and Piper both fell asleep in Annabeth’s bed, the three of them awkwardly shoved into odd positions in order for all of them to fit. The TV is droning a random episode of Veronica Mars when Piper wakes up,

She’s sandwiched in between Will and Annabeth, Will’s curly head of hair leaning on her shoulder and one of his legs dangling off the side of the bed. Annabeth, on her left side, has her hair sprawled across the pillow and a little puddle of drool pooling on her bedsheets. An arm is stuck under Piper, while the other has fallen against her nightstand.

As gently as possible, Piper pushes Will’s head off her shoulder. It lolls to the other side, sinking into the plush pillow. She sits up, stretching and searching for her phone.

She finds it tucked under her pillow, the battery is almost dead but she’s able to read that it’s 1 in the afternoon already.

“Annabeth!” She whispers, pushing the lifeless body beside her.

A high-pitched moan emits from Annabeth. She rolls onto her back, eyes still glued shut.

Piper prods her again, jerking her entire shoulder. “Annabeth! We gotta get ready!”

There’s no sign of movement. Piper gently flicks Annabeth’s nose.

Immediately, Annabeth’s eyes jerk open. A hand flies out of nowhere, slapping Piper across the face.

“Ow!” She helps, touching the red of her cheek. This not being the first time she’s been slapped by Annabeth, she’s thankful it had half the force from being half-asleep.

“Piper!” Annabeth sits up, “I’m sorry!”

“It’s okay,” she rubs her cheek. “You might want to check the time, though.”

Will rouses awake beside them, sitting up to see what’s going on. His eyes are crusty, but alert from the shouting.

“What is going on?” He asks in a drowsy voice.

“Annabeth slapped me,” Piper answers.

“Again?” He rubs at his cheek, completely unsurprised. “What’d you do?”

Annabeth isn’t paying attention, she’s scrolling through her phone and typing rapidly.

“Percy is heading over in an hour or so to pick us up,” she says quickly, “I’m barely packed!”

“I can help,” Piper suggests. “I’m already packed.”

“Wow,” Will slides out of bed, “what a role reversal here.”

“I’ll go grab my things and change,” she continues, “you change and start packing. I’ll help when I get back.”

Annabeth gets out of bed herself. She hums in agreement, “Okay, I’m going to shower.”

Will checks the time on his watch, “I’d help, but I gotta get the car back to my mom.”

“It shouldn’t take long, it’s only a night,” Annabeth responds. It sounds like she’s trying to convince herself. “Thanks anyway, Will. You’ve done enough. Tell your mom hi.”

“Will do,” he nods. Then, with a knowing smile, he adds, “good luck, you two.”

“Thanks,” Piper lightly laughs. “I’ll walk out with you. I think it’s unsafe to walk in the Chase household alone.”

“Good looking out,” he laughs.

Will grabs his bag, and the two step out of Annabeth’s room. The rest of the house is seemingly quiet, leaving them alone with each other’s company.

“Can I tell you something, Piper?” He asks as they head down the stairs.

“Sure,” she shrugs.

Will purses his lips, “Be careful.”

“What do you mean?”

They stop at the bottom of the stairs. He locks eye contact with her. She’s stunned by how clear his eyes are.

“Be careful,” he repeated, “Annabeth is amazing and deserves all the good in the world - “

“Yeah,” Piper cuts him off, thinking he’s done. “I won’t hurt her or anything, though she can more than handle herself.”

“I mean, she deserves all the good, but watch out for yourself, too,” he clarifies. “You guys are in a situation where it’s hard to imagine everyone gets out unscathed. Be easy with each other. And don’t be afraid to look out for yourself a bit.”

She smiles appreciatively at him, “Thanks, Will.”

“No problem,” they begin walking again. He tacks on, “You guys are good together. It’s a shame it has to be this complicated.”

They step out the front door. Will’s car is parked next to Frederick’s, but she had yet to see the man. Last night, he had been in his office when she arrived.

“Exactly my thoughts,” she agrees.

Will pulls out his keys, “Hope all goes well. Keep me updated!”

Piper bids him goodbye as he gets into his car. She walks across the lawn. All the lights in her house are off, and as expected her father is at the firestation for the weekend. She quickly changes into comfortable clothes for the drive, and grabs the bag she had thankfully packed beforehand.

When she returns, Fredrick is eating a salad at the kitchen island. A book is laid out beside him and he has his reading glasses sitting at the tip of his nose.She attempts to wordlessly skirt around him.

“Miss McLean?” He calls without glancing up from his book.

Piper halt’s in spot, just off to his right. She turns on her heel to see him. It feels like a stone has dropped into her gut.

“Dr. Chase?” She replies in a monotone.

Frederick finally looks up. He holds his book open with his thumb. His expression is as cold as she’s ever seen it. She can feel him observing her joggers and sweatshirt, and anything about her he doesn’t agree with.

“It’s come to my attention you’ve been spending a lot of time with my daughter,” he says.

Piper stares blankly. She bites back her sassiest remark, and simply nods. “Yes, you could say that.”

Frederick clears his throat, “Annabeth has certain expectations of her. Expectations that you might not understand, being from a…different life yourself.”

She raises an eyebrow dryly, “What are you implying?”

“I’m not implying anything,” he remarks, his eyes narrow. They’re a similar shade to Annabeth’s, but darker and without any heart. “I’m telling you I’ve worked hard to make sure certain opportunities are available for Annabeth. I don’t expect you to understand them, but I won’t have you and that silly fish boy threatening those opportunities.”

Piper grits her teeth. She feels her fists tighten at her side. His tone is flat and cold, like he’s reporting the weather and not insulting her and Annabeth in one fell swoop.

“I think you misjudged something, Dr. Chase,” she does her best to keep her tone level, “Annabeth has worked hard to earn her own opportunities. And when she accomplishes them, it will be a reflection of her effort rather than the minimal time you’ve ‘invested.’”

He opens his mouth to rebuttal, but she continues. “And if you knew your daughter, you’d know that no one - Percy, me, or yourself - can get in the way of her achieving her goals.”

Frederick closes his book, “Young lady, your tone is - “

“Sorry,” Piper snaps, steps back to escape this interaction, “I have to go help Annabeth pack. We have an important night ahead of us.”

She walks out the room, stopping once more to stick her head back into the kitchen. “And I’m going to Juilliard, Doctor,” she coats his title in venom.

Although it pains her, she doesn’t wait to see his reaction. She marches up the stairs, fists still clenched and adrenaline coursing through her veins. She cannot tell Annabeth about this.

She storms into the room without knocking. Annabeth has her back to the door, wrapped up in a towel and a pair of sweatpants. She leaps, letting out a shriek as the door slams behind Piper.

“Oh my God you scared the shit out of me!” Annabeth exclaims.

Piper lets out a tense breath, the stress slowly exiting her stiff shoulders. “Sorry,” she mutters.

Annabeth sits down on the bed. She tightens her towel. “What got you all worked up?”

She so badly wants to tell the truth. It’s additional ammunition in the ‘Please Don’t Care What Your Father Thinks’ campaign she’s been fighting. However, with the stress already permeating around them, she bites her tongue.

“Nothing important,” Piper waves off. “I’ll tell you later. How can I help?”

Annabeth stares at her for a second, one of her eyebrows tweaking up almost inconspicuously. She decides not to press. “Um, I just need my garment bag out of my closet for the dress. I got my pajamas and - change of clothes already.”

“I’m on it!” She smiles.

By the time they collect all the things, including any possible toiletries and medicines they might need in a worst case scenario, a large minivan has come to an idle in the driveway. Piper could hear the music from inside the house, signifying Percy was right on time at 2:30.

A dinging text tone on Annabeth’s phone confirms it is him. She’s changed into a pair of jeans and an oversized flannel, tucked into her pants. Piper grabs her garment bag and Annabeth takes her overnight bag, and they head outside.

Thankfully, by now Frederick had disappeared. His car is gone from the driveway, too. She wonders if he’d mention what happened to Annabeth later, or if maybe Piper had gotten her into trouble.

Those thoughts are pushed aside as Annabeth walks out the house. Percy is striding up the driveway to meet them. He got the comfy clothes for the time being memo, snuggled up in joggers and a sweater with holes worn into the wrists.

The few times she’s seen Percy in school since spending her free hours with Annabeth, she’s found it hard not to take into consideration how innately attractive he is. There’s a reason everyone loves him - he’s stereotypically beautiful but acts like a kind goofball, add in his natural gifts in the pool, he’s a catch. Today his height is what sticks out most, Piper and Annabeth aren’t short to say the least but he inches above them enough that it gets under her skin. And his eyes, anyone could get lost in their seafoam.

“Ladies!” Percy greets cheerily. He reaches out to grab Piper’s bag off the ground and take Annabeth’s from her. “Who is ready for a lil road trip!”

Annabeth gives him a tight smile, “I sure am. Thanks for driving,” she remarks stiffly.

“No prob,” he says nonchalantly as he guides them to the van. “It’s the least I can do. My mom made us cookies, and I grabbed a cooler stocked with some good drinks and other snacks, too.”

Piper shares a genuine smile, “Wow, thank you.”

“It isn’t a road trip without snacks,” Percy proclaims.

He throws their bags into the back of the van. He then takes both their garment bags and tucks them in the handles in the back of the car, right where he has his own suit hanging up. He then walks around the side, ripping the sliding doors open.

Annabeth and Piper exchange a look. Unfortunately, their wires are crossed. Which is the worse scenario - Piper up front with Percy or Annabeth?

“I’ll sit in the back,” they suggest in unison.

Percy laughs sheepishly. He rubs the back of the neck, “Didn’t realize I was so scary. I promise, I don’t bite.”

Annabeth stares right back at Piper still, her eyes sharpen as if that would make her thoughts clearer.

“I…have to sit in the front,” Piper stumbles through her words as she strings together an explanation, “I can get car sick sometimes.”

She doesn’t mind sitting up front, truly. Sure, she’ll be reminded of how nice and hot Percy is for the entire drive, but this trip was going to be a reminder of that no matter what. And Percy genuinely is a good guy, she knows that. In another life, she knows they would’ve been best friends, too.

“Rad,” he puts on a convinced expression, despite the fact it was hidden in the subtext of why Annabeth wasn’t eager to take the passenger seat.

“You can get AUX,” he continues, “but I’m going to need directional help. Sometimes I struggle with my lefts and rights.”

Piper waves it off, “Not a problem.”

Annabeth pulls herself into the seats. She looks back at them, “Let’s go,” she encourages, “we have a schedule to stick to.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Percy fake-salutes.

The two find their designated seats. The van smells like car freshener and faintly of chocolate, she presumes from Estelle’s rides to and from school. A few misplaced toys and children’s books also mark her presence.

Percy joins them, clicking his belt into place. He glances over at Piper with a kind, nearly shy smile. She returns it, buckling her seat as well and adjusting her seat awkwardly.

“I’ll pull up the directions,” Annabeth offers. She’s sitting in the middle of the backseat, so she can plug her phone into the old van’s phone charger for the directions. It isn’t lost on Piper that in a way, Annabeth is sat right in between her and Percy.

“Thank you,” he replies. “I can get to the interstate and follow the signs from there, but give me a heads up for exits. Oh, and anytime we need a bathroom break, just holler.”

Annabeth nods, settling back into her seat. Her shoulders are rigid, jaw set, and her gray eyes stare steely at the road ahead of them as Percy guides the van out of the driveway. Piper yearns to reach out and grab her hand, but knows that’s impossible.

“How’s swim going, Percy?” She asks instead. Perhaps conversation will help ease the awkwardness in the air.

Percy gives her a nod of recognition, as if he was thinking the same thing. Fuck, he probably was. Other than herself, he’s maybe the only other person who can read Annabeth like a book.

“It’s good,” he begins. “Training is getting demanding, Hedge has doubled my conditioning and pool time but it keeps my mind focused. I’m less fidgety during swim season, it weirdly helps me get my homework done even though I have less time.”

“Huh,” she grunts. “And what’s our goal going into tonight? I didn’t know Olympic hopefuls go to college.”

Percy chuckles. It’s a deep rumbling from within his chest. “Are you suggesting we should all have game plans?”

Piper shrugs, “Couldn’t hurt, right? And maybe we can help each other out, vouch for one another, y’know?”

There’s a glint in his green eyes, “I like the way you think, McLean.”

“You sound like Coach Hedge,” she snorts.

“Okay, maybe I don’t,” Percy teases.

“I like that plan, too,” Annabeth agrees from in the back row. She leans a little forward in her seat.

Percy nods, “In that case, some sports don’t use college as a pipeline for Olympic athletes. Like gymnastics, mostly because they’re so young, and swim kinda gets the best of both worlds. Some train privately and spend the year going to events, but my family can’t afford all that travel, training, and entry fees. We’re hoping if I go to college, I can get some NIL deals that will help.”

He clears his throat, “And I do want a good education, too. I’ve worked hard to get good grades and I’m not naive, swim isn’t a stable career. We wash out in our thirties, and only the greatest make enough money to support them for longer than their career. I want a good school, who will support both my aspirations in swim and a degree, and a scholarship wouldn’t hurt.”

Listening to Piper talk, she’s amazed at how in the Goode High social scene he’s the top of ‘dumb jocks.’ Clearly he thinks things through, and with their history of conversations, Piper has to blame herself for continuing to underestimate him. He’s complex, as are most humans, with a passion and determination that is admirable.

“Okay, so who are we targeting?” Piper wonders.

“Columbia is my big one,” Percy answers. “They have a good swim program, it’s close enough that I can visit my family, and I think they’ll like my applications. I haven’t met their coach yet, some other schools have sent representatives. It’s…well, I’m a little nervous that they haven’t.”

“What, uh, other schools have reached out?” Annabeth suddenly asks. Her voice is quieter than usual.

Percy glances back at her warily. He shifts in his seat. Piper is no longer able to read their looks.

“Stanford is the biggest,” he says in a shy voice. “Yale, but they had some soft offers because of my academics. Penn has been calling, too.”

“Jesus, Percy,” Annabeth smiles shyly in surprise. “Those are major schools!”

Piper nods, “Nothing to sneeze at, that’s for sure.”

He blushes, “Er, yeah. My mom is thrilled. Penn will be my fall back, I think. No one has directly offered a scholarship, though Stanford has heavily implied it depending on my performance the rest of the season - and at some private competitions.”

“Wow,” Annabeth exhales in shock. She blinks, “I’m, um, I’m proud, Perce.”

The red on Percy’s cheeks deepens, “Er, thanks.”

Piper averts her eyes, “Yeah, me too,” she attempts the joke.

Percy laughs and a flush or relief hits Piper. The hearty sound momentarily breaks up the stiff air. He raises one hand for a high-five. She claps it with her own.

“Couldn’t have done it without you, Piper,” he plays along.

“So we’re knocking down Columbia’s door,” she shifts away from Percy. “Annabeth, still set on NYU?”

“Absolutely,” she confirms. “Obviously I’ll be applying to other places, and will be talking to anyone there. But I’ve looked a lot into their Urban Design and Architecture program and it sounds like my dream.”

Piper has a flashback to her sass with Frederick earlier in the day. He wasn’t the one helping her research programs and the department heads, his idea of ‘investing’ is his pre-existing connections and money - not time.

“It sounds like we got a game plan, then,” she smiles. “And some administrators we gotta corner.”

“Not so fast,” Percy tsks, “what about you?”

Annabeth smirks knowingly, “Good try, we aren’t skipping you.”

“You already know,” Piper argues.

“I don’t,” Percy blinks.

She blushes, “Juilliard,” she answers. “It’s always been Juillard. I don’t honestly have a back up.”

Her mind interrupts, reminding her of Miss Trinity’s plan to leave the store in her hands. She supposes that’s a good back up, she basically knows how the store runs already.

“And you guys were saying my schools are impressive,” Percy whistles.

“I don’t have interest from Juillard yet, though,” she sasses back.

“You get into Juilliard…this might be a dumb question, but where do you go from there?” He ponders, skipping over her attitude.

“Not dumb, everyone asks,” she explains. “I only care about playing music. I’m not sure how yet. I think realistically the best route is symphonies and orchestras, and I would love that so much. I also think it would be cool to be a composer for movie scores, but I would like to learn more instruments if I did that.”

Annabeth pokes her head closer, “You’d be great at that, though. You love movies, and I’ve heard you play - you evoke emotion.”

Percy grins, “I mean, you already got like, what? Two instruments down? How hard can the rest be.”

She’s overwhelmed by the feeling of support in the small car. Her eyes start to stray to the passing cars and buildings in order to avoid the heavy weight settling over her shoulders.

“Depends, other wind instruments probably wouldn’t give me too much trouble,” she muses. “I really would like to learn guitar, maybe bass for fun. Some horn is on the bucket list, for sure. My mom always loved violins.”

“I remember that,” Annabeth mumbles softly, almost inaudibly. “She would play violin CDs when she was relaxing.”

Piper smiles grimly, “Yeah, mostly when she got migraines and would take a bath. She loved a cover of La Vie En Rose.”

She doesn’t mention how she hates the song now. How she can’t hear it without thinking of Dove bundled up with blankets in a dark room, looking pale and hollow. That same mix of songs were on a loop, quietly replacing the stale sounds of a hospital with the gentle violin. They had picked some of Dove’s roses and placed them at her bedside and she would stare at them until her eyes went dim - from exhaustion or the mixture of drugs she was on - or both.

Despite the bad memories, Piper feels an urge to master the strings and feel them vibrate between her fingers. Maybe she would never play those songs, or maybe she would find a new love for them. In a stark contrast to earlier, she’s longing for Annabeth to reach out and grab her hand.

“She would love the idea of me going to Juilliard,” Piper finds herself stating to no one in particular.

Percy’s gaze lays on her sympathetically. She’s not sure why, but she feels as though he’s reading her every thought., “Then let’s make it happen,” he adds in a tone as delicate as water trickling over river stones.

“Thanks, you guys,” she’s desperate for the subject to change.

They settle into the warm and cozy atmosphere that has been fostered. Piper feels at ease, despite the vulnerability she feels humming on the surface of her skin, and when she is able to catch Annabeth in the backseat, she no longer is sitting like a cord ready to snap.

Thankfully the rest of the ride stays that way. Percy and Piper do a majority of the talking, as they find out they have more in common than Piper previously thought. And, in a weird way, Annabeth probably knew all the things they were discussing.

They exchange music, with Annabeth lending her phone for them to arrange a queue. Percy continues her introduction to his favorite pop-punk band, Blackjack, as well as Death Cab for Cutie, The Flaming Lips, and Vampire Weekend.

“Annabeth’s first concert was Blackjack,” Percy proudly checks in the backseat with her, an eager smile on his lopsided lips. “Right, Beth? Last year.”

She nods, “Yeah, it was loud. Fun, though.”

Piper takes her opportunity to turn him onto 12 RODS, Soccer Mommy, and boygenius. Somehow they both share a love for The Lumineers and Chappell Roan. She takes a chance and shows him her favorite orchestra works - Gustav Holst’s, The Planets. He is delighted with the swells and dips of the combined sound.

“It sounds like Star Wars!” He exclaimed, which put a smile on her face.

Once music was tackled, movies and shows were a natural progression. By the time Percy begins navigating the van through busier city streets, the three have developed a familiar rapport. Piper sends a prayer that it remains.

“Based on the map,” Annabeth explains in between her navigation cues, “the hotel my dad booked is a few blocks from the other hotel that is hosting the seminar. We should have about an hour and half to get ready, depending on traffic the rest of the way there.”

“Alrighty, lead me there,” Percy hums in understanding. He’s leaning forward in his seat to see the city’s narrow lanes.

She does that exactly, Piper taking the metaphorical backseat as they tag-team the busy streets of New York City. She focuses on the hustle of pedestrians on the sidewalk and bustle of traffic flowing around them. The buildings are taller than she’s seen before, she’s never felt as puny as she does watching them tower above their van.

Turns out, the hotel that Fredrick booked is akin to The Ritz. It has a classy and slick gold awning, where attendants immediately meet them as Percy pulls the van around front. One takes the keys to bring the vehicle to wherever they park cars in the city, and the other begins to assemble their overnight bags. Annabeth thanks them profusely, discreetly giving them a handful of cash and handling the situation with a grace that reminds Piper, and judging by Percy’s eyes him too, that this isn’t abnormal for the Chase family.

Annabeth leads the gawking pair into the lobby. It’s as stunning as the outside, marble floors reflect back at her and cushy furniture hosts a handful of working professionals on their laptops and phones. Percy shares an impressed look with her as they approach the front desk. A woman with pinned up hair sits behind the thick, polished stone desk.

“Hi, how can I help you three?” She greets with a kind smile. Her eyes graze over the teenagers with an equally confused and exasperated curiosity.

Annabeth takes out her ID. “Hi, we should have a room booked under ‘Chase’ for the night.”

A moment of hesitance flashes on the receptionist’s face, but she begins tapping on her keyboard anyway.

“Oh,” she doesn’t hide her shock, “yes, you do.”

The worker clicks at the computer a little bit longer and Annabeth fills out a few forms, but sure enough another young bellhop appears out of nowhere to guide them and their bags to their room. The rest of the hotel matches her now raised expectations, and of course their room is fit with every amenity she could imagine. They walk into a living room, larger than her current bedroom at home. Plush neutral-colored couches are angled in front of a large flat screen. Open double-doors reveal a bed the size of a small car, and huge windows to show off the expanse of New York City around them. The bathroom is hidden off to the side.

After the bellhop dispatches their bags, Piper whistles.

“Damn, Frederick,” she admires, taking off her shoes to feel the soft carpet on her feet. “You didn’t have to splurge for lil ol’ us.”

Annabeth scoffs, strutting into the apartment. “Of course he did, can’t have his only daughter bunked up in a dissatisfactory hotel.”

“Can’t say I’m upset about his egomania this time,” Percy agrees, already starting to peruse the TV channels.

“Amen,” Piper exclaims. She collapses back onto one of the couches.

Annabeth’s eyes scan the room, “I can have them bring up some cots, that way we don’t have to fight over the bed and couch.”

Percy turns his attention to her, “Don’t be ridiculous. I can sleep on the couch, you two in the bed.”

Piper’s eyes flick to Annabeth, who has gone rigid. She can feel her throat tighten in solidarity.

“Uh,” she coughs, “I’m the late addition, I can take the couch.”

Annabeth matches her look with a glare of her own. Haplessly, Piper shrugs. Realistically, they weren’t going to get out of this without two of them sharing a bed and there were no other arguments that made sense.

His eyebrows furrow up, “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve heard. You guys go ahead.”

“Yes, Piper,” Annabeth says with an urging behind her tone, “I don’t bite.”

Percy puts his hands up, “You guys can figure out who gets the left and right side, I have to fit in the rest of today’s conditioning before we leave. This place has a gym, right?”

Annabeth hands over the extra room key, “Yeah, this should get you access.”

“Thanks,” he accepts. “Sorry to leave you guys like this, but Coach Hedge made me promise.”

“Of course,” Piper gives him a thumbs up. She was dying to know Annabeth’s thoughts about the day so far.

He grins at them in turn, fetching his bag and finding the bathroom to change into gym clothes. Annabeth makes herself busy but aligning all their garment bags on hooks, while Piper lounges and checks her phone.

To her surprise, she has a photo message from Annabeth. It’s a picture of her, sent with a small heart emoji. In it, she’s looking out the windows in the car as they cross the bridge into the island. The sun is setting, as it does so early in the late fall, and reflecting off her eyes and the windows around them.

Butterflies rise in her chest. When had Annabeth taken this? She knows, logically around the time she had, but was struggling to understand how she’d miss it.

Annabeth glances at her shyly, “Did you see?”

“Yes,” Piper rolls onto her stomach to see her better from her spot, “why exactly are you taking candid photos of me?”

“I was bored in the backseat while you and Percy were proselytizing about Phil Collins’s work with Disney,” she answers matter-of-factly. “And you looked really pretty, and you did a lot of work to make sure the car ride wasn’t awkward, so…you were looking extra attractive.”

In return, Piper raises an eyebrow, “So this is your way of saying thank you?”

“Yeah, you could say that,” she laughs.

“There are other ways to say that.”

Annabeth frowns, “C’mon, not with Percy around.”

Piper giggles, “I didn’t mean that. I meant a literal thank you.”

“Oh, so you’d say no to the other thing?”

She averts her gaze, “Probably not…”

Annabeth laughs. She begins to unzip the garment bags in order to check the dresses and suit for wrinkles or creases.

“What did you think about the car ride, anyway?” Piper questions.

“It was less awkward, thanks to you,” the blonde stares. “And Percy, admittedly,” she adds with a bittersweet tone.

“Good,” she drums her fingers against the side of the couch, “but I can’t help but notice something…”

“Yeah?”

Piper squirms, “Yeah, I mean…aren’t Percy and I a little similar?”

Annabeth chuckles dryly, “What are you saying?”

“I don’t know. We have a lot in common.”

“Like?”

Piper sits up all the way, “We both like music.”

This time, Annabeth’s laugh echoes throughout their spacious room. “That’s not exactly uncommon.”

“Totally, but maybe you have a type, is all,” she insists. For some reason, as she says the words, a shadow of insecurity starts to creep into her nerves.

“Liking music isn’t a type,” she argues. “Are you both extroverts and charming? Yeah, but I think that’s a good thing. And do you both…for lack of a better phrase, take care of me? Yes. I have good taste is all.”

Piper pursed her lips, “I guess that’s true…but we do also look alike.”

“Tall, dark and handsome?” Annabeth teases. She’s moving across the room now, slowly closing the space between them.

A blush reappears on her cheeks. She glances down at her hands playing within one another, “Er, yeah, a little.”

Annabeth plops down on the couch next to her. She finally takes her hand, as she had hoped would happen in the car. A spark shoots up her arm.

“Piper,” her voice has lost all playfulness, “I like Percy. And I care about him. Sure, you have similarities but you’re still you. And how I feel towards you is…different - which is why it’s hard for me to sort out my feelings.”

She raises an eyebrow, “Different, eh?”

“Very different,” Annabeth assures. Her voice has dropped into sultry territory as she leans in closer.. “A good difference. A really…great difference.”

Piper smiles wholeheartedly. A finger on her free hand twirls a strand of Annabeth’s blonde locks. “I like different.”

“Me too,” a wicked grin forms on Annabeth’s pink lips.

“Can I tell you something, then?” She asks. Her voice has taken to matching Annabeth’s low whisper.

“Anything,” Annabeth responds with certainty.

Piper smirks, “I kinda liked it when you called me handsome.”

“You, Piper McLean, are the most handsome,” Annabeth giggles with an almost imperceptible eye roll, “and quite the gentlemen, I’d say.”

Eagerly, Piper pushes forward to kiss Annabeth. And just as quickly, Annabeth twists her head to place a kiss on the spot between her ear and cheek. A volt of anticipatory electricity comes and fades quickly.

“Hey,” she protests gently.

Annabeth stands up with an evil twinkle in her eyes, “We have to start getting ready or we’ll be late. And Percy could - “

“- be back any minute,” Piper finishes in a drawl. “You’re a tease.”

“Only when in a hurry.”

She watches as Annabeth collects her makeup from somewhere in her bag and heads over to a vanity that Piper only just noticed. She feels as though she’ll continue to find posh amenities in this room that any hotel she’s experienced before lacked.

“I’m going to take a shower, then,” Piper announced. She gets to her feet as well.

“Okay, try not to take too long,” Annabeth instructs. “Percy will want to shower, too.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Piper collects her own things. And as she does, she remembers a passive joke about how her love triangle with Annabeth would be a lot easier if she and Percy became okay with a lot of things very quickly. It suddenly feels as though they’ve entered a three-way relationship since the car ride.

The bathroom is all marble and shiny polishings as Piper enters through the surprisingly heavy door. The shower is practically a sauna, with a thick shower head that puts her own to shame. The water flicks on with a calming thud against the tile floor. As soon as she strips her clothes and steps in, the steamy droplets soothe her tightened muscles from sitting in the car for many hours.

As ordered, Piper doesn’t linger under the tempting water. She enjoys the sensations while she can and finishes washing herself, before stepping out into the equally hot room now. The vent hums in the background. She brushes out her hair, and swears she can feel a difference in texture from the water pressure.

For the time being, she changes into a bra and shorts before exiting the bathroom again.

“I’ve never been in a place like this before,” Percy’s voice is saying. “I mean, the gym at this place was better than Goode Highs. And the pool? I will be getting some laps in before we leave tomorrow morning.”

She finds Percy back in the living area, rambling while Annabeth works on mastering her eyeliner. He glances up as Piper enters, quickly averting his gaze when he sees her attire.

“Oh, hey, uh, Piper,” he mumbles through pink cheeks, “sorry, I didn’t - “

Piper crosses her arms, “No biggie. Er, I didn’t hear you return.”

Percy stands up, rubbing his hands against his shorts. He smiles a little awkwardly. His eyes land on her skin with an inquisitive cock of his head.

“You have tattoos?”

She follows his gaze to the faded but visible dottiness of her self-made stick and poke tattoos. They are littered and small up her arms, she forgets she has them.

“Oh, yeah,” she nods. “They’re not very good, but I was bored.”

Percy steps closer, “They’re cool. This one is pretty.” He points at the bird on the outside of her forearm. It’s prominent, still not any larger than a half dollar coin, and the only one she put a significant amount of effort into.

“Thanks,” she says gratefully. She extends her arm out for him to get a better glance. “It’s a dove. For, um, my mom. H-her name was Dove.”

Gently, he touches the ink. His green eyes meet her with a meaningful gaze. It’s weighted forcing a wave of appreciation surge through her.

“Then it’s actually dope as fuck,” he beams.

Piper laughs. Somehow that was the exactly right thing to say. She glances over, Annabeth has stopped doing her eyeliner and is watching them in the way someone would appreciate a beautiful bird at the zoo.

“Well, I should shower too,” Percy drops her arm. “Can’t show up to this fancy shin-dig smelling like a gym.”

“Finally,” Annabeth teases. She has resumed her makeup routine.

“Har har,” he jokes back as he heads towards the bathroom.

With him gone, the room goes still. Hesitantly, Piper shifts to doing her own makeup and joins Annabeth in front of the vanity.

“Oh, hello,” Annabeth shifts on the bench to give her room. Their biceps gently brush against one another.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” Piper jokes. “I’m making this quick.”

Annabeth glances at her bare arms too. Her fingers reach out, touching another tattoo with a feather like graze. This image is shottily done on the inside of her wrist; a simple stem of cherries.

“I want one,” she announces like it’s a secret, “one day.”

Piper is surprised, but shrugs. “Think it over,” she tells, “and maybe I’ll give it to you. A real one will look better.”

“No,” Annabeth argues, “I want it from you.”

“Just say when,” she gives in.

The statement lingers with her. ‘I want it from you, when I figure it out,’ it was laughable how it could envelope their situation completely. And her response, the call to action and the promise to be there. It was comical.

The girls work in a tandem silence as they line, powder, and color their eyes and lips. Every now and then, their eyes cross in their mirror and a knowing smile makes either one of them giggle. They share products back and forth when needed, though they have drastically different tastes in colors and tone, but their fingers will fumble together in a moment that seems to last both too long and too brief.

Percy emerges from the shower with slick black hair that resembles an oil spill. The smell of sea salt and oak radiates from the steam in the bathroom. A white tank top is tucked into his formal slacks as he dries behind at his ears with a wash rag.

The rest of their process is quick. Piper doesn’t spend too much time on her makeup, and Annabeth finishes around the same time with her plentiful head start. Percy has already gotten dressed and dried his hair, now looking quite put together in a white button-up and deep blue suit that brings out the color in his eyes.

Annabeth curls her hair, and Piper has to pry her eyes away from watching her in the mirror. She’s mesmerized by watching her curl the honey locks around the curling iron with delicate fingers, and the way she cocks her head ever so slightly leaves the tender slope of her neck exposed in a way that makes Piper wish they were alone.

Needless to say, Piper does her hair a little slower, throwing it up in an orderly updo as opposed to the normal messiness she doesn’t care to fix.

Piper heads into the other room to change, closing the wide doors behind her to avoid any further awkwardness on Percy’s behalf.

Her dress is as pretty as she remembers. In the warm hotel light, the purple seeps deeply against her tan skin. The fabric rubs gently against her skin as she slips it on, it feels as though it’s an extension of her.

Annabeth sneaks into the room as Piper zips up the dress in the back. It tightens against her chest, solidifying the silhouette and defining her figure. She turns around to find Annabeth staring at her, the grey eyes that are usually stormy have calmed and widened.

“Wow,” she murmurs breathlessly. Her hands fidget at the side of her hips. “Piper, you look…”

Piper smirks back, “Choose your next words wisely.”

“I don’t have any,” Annabeth muses, “you’re perfect.”

“Far from it,” she rolls her eyes.

The blonde shakes her head, “Closer than you think.”

“Thank you.” Pushing aside the thumping in her chest, Piper gestures to the dress in Annabeth’s hands. “Do you need a zip?”

Annabeth nods shyly. Politely, Piper turns on her heel to give her a little privacy. She hears rustling and then the quiet thud of clothes hitting the floor as Annabeth changes. It feels weird after all they’ve been through to be sitting in this room alone, refusing to make eye contact. The tension is thick, palpable against her increasingly clammy skin.

“You can turn around,” Annabeth announces.

Sucking in a breath, Piper spins. The air grows thicker as her eyes find Annabeth’s. They’re the size of saucers and glimmering in the yellow light. One hand is holding the dress up in the back, but already the blush white gown is a stark contrast to her tan skin and glowing hair.

As if trying not to spook her, Piper crosses the room slowly. Their eyes remain connected as if a magnetic force is pulling them together. She stops when she can see Annabeth’s chest rise and fall with her breath.

In the back of her mind, Piper wonders what Percy is thinking. Is he suspicious that it’s taking them so long to change? Does he think they’re talking about him? She’s unsure what she would assume if the situations were reversed.

But the rest of her mind is too busy imagining other scenarios; like how it would feel to press her lips against Annabeth’s neck and trying to fight the temptation to run a hand around her waist and tug her closer. It doesn’t help that the dress has a plunging v-neckline. A gold necklace is placed teasingly above the dip of her chest.

Wordlessly, Annabeth spins around to show her the back of the dress. Piper carefully swoops the bottom of the curly blonde hair out of the way of the zipper and with a light touch, pulls the zip up. Annabeth sucks in a breath to make it slide easier. Piper can feel her shoulders tremble beneath her.

“You’re gorgeous,” she says, her lips hovering beside Annabeth’s ear. And like magic, Piper can see the goosebumps that rise along her skin. A flush of exhilaration brings heat rise within Piper.

Annabeth steps out of her grasp, breaking the hold. She turns around, a diminished but appreciative grin on her lips. She reaches forward, tucking the loose strand of hair out of Piper’s face. She places a small, but not nearly chaste kiss, on her lips.

“We have to go now,” she mumbles. Her eyes are running over Piper’s features as if to take her all in.

“Yes, probably,” Piper agrees, but she can’t bring herself to move.

“Like, now,” Annabeth’s hand drops. It skims down Piper’s arm until it finds a home within her hand. She tugs her by towards the door.

“Uh-huh,” Piper lets herself get dragged, “do me a favor first?”

Annabeth pauses in front of the wood doors, “Yes?”

“Remember this moment,” Piper urges with a dark undertone, “y’know, for later.” She adds a wink for good measure.

Annabeth blushes, “I don’t think I’ll be forgetting anytime soon.”

With a renewed sense of confidence, Piper pushes past Annabeth with a smirk and rejoins Percy in the living room. She hopes that the permanent blush on her cheeks has faded.

Percy jumps to his feet as they enter. In their absence, he must’ve dried and styled his hair a bit because it’s now masterfully messy as she has come to expect it. And while he isn’t exactly her type, she has to admit he looks handsome with the rich blue suit and an old, worn silver watch on his wrist.

His green eyes flicker between the two. He shoves his hands in his pockets. The sudden move and intense look makes her shoulder tighten. She can practically hear Annabeth stiffen beside her.

“I can’t believe it,” he breathes out.

Piper frowns, “Believe what?”

Percy’s expression morphs into a smile, “I can’t believe how amazing you two look! Am I the luckiest guy or what?”

“Oh,” Annabeth laughs awkwardly. It comes out hollow, “Ha ha, yeah, that’s sweet.”

If Percy notices the tense nature of the laughter, he doesn’t show it.

Piper grins nervously, “That was such a dad thing to say, Percy. Truly, I could text my dad a picture of us and I think he’d say the same.”

He shrugs, “If letting you guys know how awesome you are is wrong, then I don’t want to be right.”

This time, their laughs are genuine, which sends a bolt of energy into Percy and his smile widens. He checks the watch on his wrist, “Alrighty, we should get going. I called an Uber while you were changing. Should be here soon. I didn’t know what shoes you guys planned on wearing and figured you didn’t want to walk.”

“Way to plan ahead,” Annabeth smiles. She grabs a clutch from off the vanity, double-checking that she has their tickets and room keys.

Piper feels something bitter blossom within him. Her mind is stuck in the bedroom minutes prior, and a twist in her gut reminds her of how genuinely kind Percy has always been to her. And everyone, apparently. Once again, he is demonstrating how thoughtful he is and while he was doing so - she was thinking sinful thoughts about Annabeth. He called the Uber while she was one misplaced touch away from shoving her tongue down his girlfriend’s throat.

Percy grins proudly, “You’re rubbing off on me, Beth.”

Piper glances away, finding her own black bag and sliding her phone in it. She pops her shoes on and leads the gang out the door of the hotel room. The sound of shuffling feet behind her signals that the other two are following.

The Uber was indeed waiting for them in the pick-up lane of the hotel. Percy, doubling down on his chivalry, slides into the front seat beside their male Uber driver.

As Annabeth foretold, the drive was short. By now, the city lights had been flicked on and the night had grown dark. She’s enraptured by the haze that seems to take over the city when the sun goes down. The pedestrians are practically all in either short dresses and glittering chains heading to whichever bar the night calls for, or matching their glamor on the way to fancy dinners. And a handful among them in sweats and comfy clothes. It fills Piper with anticipatory nerves for the night ahead.

The Uber drops them off in front of an equally posh hotel. Cars are dropping off guests in the front loop, kids their age and clear college administrators step out of their vehicles in floor length gowns and snazzy bow ties.

They hop out of the Uber and thank their polite and quiet driver. Percy helps them out, providing each a hand so they don’t trip on their dresses and heels. His hand is smooth and warm in the chilly night air.

“You look great, Percy,” Piper shares with him as they pass. She realizes he had draped them in compliments and no one had returned the favor.

He shines down at her, “Thank you, Miss McLean.”

“Miss?” She giggles despite herself.

“Of course,” Percy states like it’s obvious, “it’s a classy night, you are classy ladies, the proper titles must be observed.”

“In that case, thank you, Mr. Jackson.”

Annabeth has pulled ahead of them, exchanging tickets with the doorman. She waves back at them, “Come on guys, we gotta find our seats.”

“Coming!” Percy calls. He extends his bent arm to Piper, “May I escort you, Madam?”

“You may,” she gives in to the hit, putting on a flouncy accent as she tucks her arm into his.

Taking one long stride to start them off, Percy guides her towards Annabeth and they mount the polished stairs to the hotel. As they join up, he offers his other arm to Annabeth who plays along hesitantly.

Inside, they’re directed to the ballroom by attendants in all black and white. Percy drops their arms gently as they no longer can walk in a trio. Without the workers, they would’ve found their way by the flow of foot traffic through the well-decorated hallways and into an airy room with polished wood floors and hundreds of tables arranged.

Annabeth finds their table assignments, and from here on out Piper has no clue how the night is supposed to work. There’s a stage set up at the front of the ballroom, a small band setup and playing quiet music. Multiple chandeliers the size of a small Kia dangle from the ceiling, washing the wide room in dimmed yellow lighting.

They take their table, with at least five other chairs pushed into the clothed table with them. No one has taken them yet. Annabeth sits down, and Piper takes the seat next to her. Percy seems to get the message without a fight, probably due to the space conversation, and takes his spot beside Piper.

“How does this work now?” She wonders. “Like how do we know who is where?”

Annabeth eyes up the venue with a laser-like gaze. Piper wonders if she’s analyzing the intricate architectural designs littering the ceiling and columns that support the roof.

“The tables are assigned, and supposedly the administrators are randomly distributed at tables. So in that way it’s luck,” she explains. “But once dinner is finished, we are free to move around the room, I think. That way we don’t only talk to who we are seated with.”

“Oh, we just chill here for now?” Percy clarifies.

“I guess,” Annabeth answers noncommittally.

Piper takes this time to text her dad that she’s arrived at the event safely and waiting for the dinner. As she types it out, her ears are picking up on the usual dinner song a classical band would play.

Two students their age appear, too thick in their own conversation to notice the trio as they sit down. It’s one girl in a pleasantly yellow dress and a scrawny boy with thin wire glasses. They’re speaking in hushed tones that can’t be picked up from across the circular table.

Percy drums his fingers against the table. He has already unfolded his cloth napkin and splayed out his utensils. He's noticeably uncomfortable with rigid shoulders and a set jaw.

“Restless?” She wonders.

He blinks, “Kind of. And hungry. It feels like we should be doing something.”

Piper shrugs, “I’m sure they’ll serve dinner once everyone has a chance to get seated. We are a little early.”

Percy’s mouth is pressed thin, he takes a sip from the water glasses laid out before them. Piper rotates her attention to Annabeth.

The blonde is sneaking quick pictures of the moldings on the ceiling, or something else that Piper can’t decipher. Under the cozy lighting, Annabeth’s highlighter draws Piper’s attention towards her distinct eyes. They’re analytical, which she’s come to expect, but in an exhilarated way.

“What are you doing?” Piper scoots closer to see the photos.

“I’m saving these photos for later,” Annabeth explains. She’s switched back to her photo album, zooming in on some of the previous pictures and studying certain details.

“Do you know this building?” She inquires.

“No,” she mutters, “but I will be researching it later. The supports of the arched ceiling would indicate its pre-industrial revolution but sometimes they fake these things for effect.”

Piper pretends to understand agree, she’s satisfied having any sort of amusement as they wait. Her feet tap against the floor.

“Do you know who’s sitting with us?” Percy leans forward to join the conversation. “Administrator wise, I mean.”

“No,” Annabeth tells him. “I think there’s information by the seating chart and guest book.”

Percy glances around as if he’ll get caught standing up, but then commits to pushing out his chair and looking for the aforementioned seating chart.

“I’ll go take a peek,” he replies. “Couldn’t help to know, and I’m bored.”

“Take a picture,” Annabeth orders quietly. She eyes up the other teens like their competition. Piper supposed they basically are.

“Will do,” Percy promises in his own whisper. “You want to creep on them?”

Annabeth blushes, “Maybe…”

With a chuckle, Percy winks and dashes off to commence his quest. Piper takes his disappearance to turn to Annabeth.

“Are you nervous now that we’re here?” She questions.

Annabeth practically jumps at the inquiry. “Mm, not really. Just anxious that we won’t be able to find the right people.”

“Understandable,” Piper agrees. “But there’s three of us, we already agreed to work together, and if the whole point of the event is to help us network then I’m sure it will be easier than we think.”

She nods, “You’re probably right.”

“Probably?”

Annabeth grins, “Most likely right.”

Piper frowns playfully, “I can accept that.”

Their conversation is cut off by two new additions to their table. This time, it’s two adults and their entrance has Annabeth sitting straighter. One is a man with a short cut chin-strap the same pitch black as his moussed hair, the other is a girl in a maroon power suit and a narrow face. an air of importance follows them. As they take their seats, the other two students settle their own conversations and leave the table practically silent.

“Hello,” the woman says. She’s unrolling her cloth napkin and gives the table as she does so.

The man follows suit, but his eyes are glued to Annabeth. Piper picks up on this immediately, her muscles tightening. He has oily eyes that she doesn’t trust.

“I’m Saul Werner, this is my colleague Lena Overbeck,” the man introduces. His voice is gravelly. “We work in admissions at Harvard.”

At this announcement, a wave of excitement rushes through their table. Piper can practically feel Annabeth’s heartbeat skyrocket, and the two strangers across the table from them fixed their posture and scrambled to appear acceptable. While Harvard wasn’t her dream school or on her radar at all, Piper realizes that at this event having the ‘Harvard’ table was a hot commodity. It’s hard to not feel the pressure.

Saul continues unflinchingly, “We’ll get to know one another this evening, see if any of you future graduates are Harvard material, but while we wait for our first course, let’s go around and introduce yourselves.”

His eyes fall onto their table-mates. The girl goes first. She has hair put up into a tight bun and a mousy appearance.

“Hi, my name is Jada Swenson. I go to Deerfield Academy in Massachusetts,” she speaks clearly with a high-pitched voice. “I will be pre-med in the fall, I’m captain of Deerfield’s field hockey team and I oversee the operation of our first Model U.N. - we travel competitively.”

Lena purses her lips and scribbles something down on a notepad she pulls from seemingly nowhere. This pleases Jada, as Piper watches her visibly sit up straighter.

The boy next to her has sandy hair, he has broad shoulders and his biceps are pronounced against the material of his suit jacket.

“Uh, hello - name is Dylan Martinez, honored to be here,” he waves half-heartedly. “As of right now, I’m undeclared. I think I’ll major in Kinesiology or Business. I’m from Connecticut and am looking for a wrestling scholarship, if possible, please, sir and ma’am.”

Piper has to stifle a laugh at his attempt to sound formal. She glances at Annabeth, who is smirking slightly and shoots a knowing wink back at her. Unfortunately for Dylan, Lena has not written anything down.

“Nice to meet you two,” Saul nods. His face is unreadable as he skips over Percy’s empty chair to Piper.

Piper clears her throat as quietly as possible. “Hi, I’m Piper McLean. I plan on being a music major, flute to be exact.”

She leaves it there, not interested in show-boating or whatever Jada has been doing. The rest of the tables’ eyes stare at her expectantly, she takes a sip of water to signify she has finished.

Slowly, the eyes drift to Annabeth. The blonde has plastered on a breath-taking smile, her white teeth practically blinding.

“Good evening,” her voice is smooth. If she didn’t already have everyone’s attention, her tone would’ve commanded it. “I’m - “

“Annabeth Chase,” Saul interrupts her. A knowing grin has replaced his uninterested lips. Piper finds her eyes narrowing.

A quizzical expression causes Annabeth’s picture-perfect smile to falter, “Yes, er, yeah. I’m Annabeth Chase. I’m sorry, have we met before?”

Saul shakes his head, “No, not in person. But your father and I were classmates at Harvard back in the day. He’s told me quite a bit about you.”

Jada deflates and rolls her eyes quite noticeably. Meanwhile, Annabeth has gone flat with a tightened jaw.

“Oh,” she says weakly. “He hasn’t mentioned you.”

If Saul was taken aback, he didn’t show it. He begins to speak, but is quickly interrupted by Percy swiftly retaking his seat. Unaware that a conversation had begun, he leans over to his two friends.

“You guys won’t believe this,” he begins in a failed whisper, “we got sat with the reps from Harvard. Isn’t that lucky?”

Piper blinks at him and does her best to jerk her head towards the two people he’s speaking about.

“Lucky, alright,” Annabeth drawls dryly.

Percy catches on to his faux pas. He straightens back up. “Sorry, everyone. Please, continue with whatever I rudely interrupted.”

“We were getting to know one another,” Lena explained. “You’re just in time to introduce yourself.”

“Of course,” he says. “My name is Percy Jackson. I go to Goode High, I’m the captain of the swim team.”

“No way,” Dylan raises his eyebrows. “Percy Jackson?”

“Yeah.”

“I‘ve got a bro on our swim team, he hates your guts,” he chuckles. “‘Says you’re a beast, like goated or something.”

“Er, I wouldn’t say that,” Percy averts his gaze. He’s clearly uncomfortable with the attention being focused on him. “But, yeah, I will be in the Olympic Trials later this year.”

Lena returns to her notepad with a furious scribble.

“That’s quite impressive,” Saul admits. “How long have you been swimming?”

Percy blushes, “Since I fell in a pool when I was four. My mom said I was doggy-paddling before she could dive in to get me. I think she’s embellishing, proud mom and all that, but it’s a cool thought.”

“It is, indeed,” Saul takes a drink of his water. His eyes skirt back to Annabeth as he swallows. “Your father tells me you’re Harvard material, Miss Chase. He was in my emails the minute you hit high school.”

“He’s nothing if not determined,” Annabeth remarks bitterly. Any interest she held has drained from her face and her grey eyes keep flickering to the other tables surrounding them, as if they pose a potential escape.

Percy nudges Piper as discreetly as possible and gives her a puzzled expression. She isn’t sure how to answer silently, so she shrugs and hopes he understands the ‘I’ll explain later’ it implied.

“Determination is such an essential trait for success,” Jada says suddenly. “I learned that when I led our field hockey team to state as a sophomore. We lost a lot of our seniors to injury but with determination and - “

Saul barely bats an eyelash in her direction, “He’s quite proud of all you’ve accomplished, maybe you care to expound on those accomplishments yourself?”

Annabeth bites down on her cheek, “No, thank you, sir.”

“No?” He repeats incredulously. “Do you doubt that your accomplishments warrant Harvard’s attention? Or that you are Harvard material?”

She blinks. “I’m Harvard material, but I will not be attending Harvard.”

Lena’s pen is burning a hole in her notepad as her eyes bounce back and forth between Saul and Annabeth. Piper’s do the same, it’s like watching a tense tennis match the way her head keeps twisting to catch their expressions. It’s one of those times she wished she could read Annabeth’s mind, she had no idea what the girl could be thinking, sinking this opportunity intentionally.

“Miss Chase,” Saul begins. He’s attempting to restrain himself, “You have to earn that opportunity and so far your behavior has been unbecoming of a Harvard woman.”

“Bummer,” she deadpans.

Jada licks her lips, “My grandfather went to Harvard and he spoke highly of all the opportunities it granted him. He says there was no way he could’ve successfully ran his personal injury practice without the valuable lessons he received during his years there.”

The table stares at Jada for a second, before returning their attention to Saul without a word. Jada lets out a steamed breath.

“Is there a problem?” Saul questions.

Annabeth shakes her head. “No, sir. I just don’t have any aspirations of attending Harvard, which my father should’ve known. And I certainly don’t have any desire to gain acceptance to your university simply because you were frat brothers and maybe owe him a couple favors. I mean, did he even tell you any of my accomplishments in those emails - if there were any emails to begin with? I suspect he didn’t, you asked for me to list them for show, and I will not play a part in it.”

Saul looks gobsmacked. For the first time since he sat down, he’s speechless. Beside him, Lena has stopped writing and is staring at Annabeth with an unreadable gaze. Piper isn’t sure what to do, and based on Percy’s blank expression, he’s just as confused.

“I don’t know how much money my dad offered to make sure we were at the same table, but I’m sorry he wasted your time,” Annabeth pushes her chair back and gets to her feet. She stares down at Saul with glassy eyes. “Whatever school I go to, I will earn my spot there. I refuse to owe my father anything, and I advise you to avoid it too. But you should talk to Jada, she clearly wants to impress you and her behavior is, as you would put it, ‘becoming of a Harvard woman.’”

With all she had to say laid out for all to hear, Annabeth sets her cloth napkin gently on her empty plate and walks off towards the exit of the ballroom.

In unison, Piper and Percy launch to their feet. They share a look, as if to question whose job it is to follow. Piper doesn’t put up a fight. She sits down at the same time that Percy takes off after Annabeth. She wants to go comfort her, of course, but she doesn’t want it to seem suspicious.

Saul frowns, “I need a drink,” he grumbles. He drains his water before leaving to track down whoever might sneak him actual alcohol.

The table is silent. Compared to the loud voices moments ago, it feels eerie. Jada is suspiciously silent, as if waiting for Lena to start asking her about why she would be a good fit for Harvard. Already, everyone seems tired. Except for Dylan, who is playing with his fork and napkin to make a tent.

“Sorry about that,” Piper says in an attempt to mend the awkwardness.

She’s not sorry, especially after what Frederick said to her this morning. Annabeth needed to get that off her chest. In fact, Piper feels a swell of pride.

“Her dad is a real prick,” she attempts a joke.

“Clearly,” Lena has the beginnings of a smile on her lips. “What schools does she want to go to?”

“NYU,” she answers. “Or some other big New York schools. She wants to get away, I think.”

Lena nods. She jots something down quickly. “I have some friends in their admissions office. I’ll put a good word in.”

Piper raises an eyebrow, “Really?”

The woman shrugs, “Yes. That took guts, not many teenagers would stand up for themselves that way. Or refuse their father like that. I can’t promise anything obviously…but I would accept her. I mean, it was a disrespectful act, but she was pretty polite, all things considered.”

She returns her sentiment with a kind smile, “Thank you, I’m sure she’ll appreciate that.”

Conversation quickly pivots to Jada again with Annabeth gone. Lena gives her undivided attention while Piper wonders how long she should wait before tracking Percy and Annabeth down. Salads and soup are plated in front of them when she decides now would be as good a time as any.

She leaves the table grateful to miss the conversation about Jada’s emergency appendectomy during finals week and Dylan devouring his soup noisily. The clothed tables surrounding them, now full of busy conversation and the clatter of silverware, act like a maze and slow her down as she navigates to the exit.

Percy is leaning against a column outside. He’s scrolling on his phone, legs crossed over one another casually. Piper finds solace in his apparent ease, if Annabeth was melting down somewhere he surely wouldn’t be glued to his cellphone.

“Hey,” she says as she approaches. “Our first course just arrived. How is everything?”

He puts his phone back into his pocket in one smooth motion. “Not bad, she’s taking a breather in the bathroom. She’s angry.”

Piper scoffs, “No kidding. I’d hate to be Frederick right about now.”

“I’d hate to be him anytime,” Percy remarks dryly.

She joins him on the other edge of the pillar. It’s cold against her back. She hadn’t realized how hot the ballroom had gotten and the chill calms whatever anxiety had risen.

“It’s weird,” Percy sighs suddenly. He’s kicking his feet softly against the hotel marble. “She didn’t want to talk to me about it. I mean, I think what little she did say was out of pity - like she didn’t want to make me feel bad for checking in.”

Piper’s guilt forces her to bite her tongue. She’s been incredibly morally grey lately and refuses to speak on Percy’s issues when, in a roundabout way, she’s the cause of them.

He looks at her mournfully, “I know she wants space, but does that mean we can’t be friends in the meantime? We were friends first.”

“I don’t know,” she croaks out.

“Yes, you do,” Percy negates. There is no malice in his words, he says it with the same certainty as he might say he breathes air into his lungs. “And I respect that you are keeping her privacy. It’s just frustrating not knowing what I did wrong.”

Piper winces. Dylan stabbing her in the hand with a fork would hurt less than his words. Thankfully, Percy’s no longer looking in her direction.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think it has to do with you. Or that it’s, um, anything you can control.”

“Okay,” his lips are pressed in a straight line. “I should’ve let you come after her. You probably would’ve helped more.”

He’s right. Piper’s willing to bet that Annabeth is feeling the immense guilt reappear on her shoulders, just like she is right now. She can’t imagine the hurricane of emotions she’s combating, between the disrespect and lies of Frederick’s actions and how eagerly Percy offered his shoulder. She must feel sick.

Piper waves him off, “We don’t know that. And regardless of what she’s feeling, I know Annabeth appreciates that you will show up for her.”

“That’s good,” Percy allows, “and I will. Always.”

A nauseous feeling creeps up her stomach.

“We should probably get back to the table,” she suggests.

Percy’s eyes light up, “Oh, yeah. We did pay a lot for this meal.”

She laughs politely at his attempt to lighten the mood. “I’ll go grab Annabeth from the bathroom.”

“See you at the table,” he departs.

Piper weaves her way to the other end of the foyer, locating the heavy doors with restroom signs on them. She’s about to follow a woman through the door, when Annabeth emerges and holds the door open for the woman.

“Hey,” she greets once the woman has disappeared behind the door.

Piper takes a quick second to look Annabeth over. The redness in her cheeks has subsided, but small bags remain under her eyes from apparent tears. Despite that, Piper’s breath still gets caught in her throat looking at her in the white dress.

“I thought I might find you near a bathroom,” she jokes.

They share a quiet chuckle before Annabeth sniffles, “He’s an asshole.”

“I know,” Piper hums understandingly. She takes a risk and grabs Annaberh’s hand, making sure to keep a friendly distance between them. The gesture is accepted with a gentle squeeze.

“He doesn’t know how great you are,” she adds.

Annabeth lifts her chin, “I’m going to do it without him. Everything. I don’t care what it takes.”

A proud smile replaces Piper’s concerned look. “I know you will.”

“Let’s go eat soup,” the blonde squeezes her hand before letting it go.

“Let’s.”

They walk side by side back to the ballroom. Percy welcomes them back with a silly wink, sending them a crude gesture below the table that implies his true thoughts about Saul. It makes both girls giggle as they retake their seats.

Saul has returned, this time with a glass of scotch sat in front him. The rest of the table has worked their way through about half their first course, but Jada is still rambling on about Harvard. Lena has apparently lost interest, her notebook has been hidden away.

Dinner is pleasantly uneventful. She’s pleasantly surprised with a sizable eggplant parmesan for her vegetarian option while everyone else munches on steaks.

Saul sticks to asking his questions to the rest of the table. Jada does the bulk of answering, usually about herself and whatever feats she thinks would endear herself to the administrators. Generally her behavior would annoy Piper, but tonight she’s thankful for the filler conversation. The rest of the table tire of this, though, and eventually Dylan pivots the topic to baseball which regains Saul and Percy’s attention. Piper doesn’t join, she knows less about baseball than she knows about football which is impressive in itself.

Annabeth refrains from talking too, though Piper knows for a fact that she keeps a watchful eye on the Yankees’s season. Periodically she makes sure to check on Annabeth out of the corner of her vision. Soon she catches on and sneaks small gestures back; a tongue peeking out of the corner of her mouth, goofy cross-eyes, or a cheeky thumbs-up from below the table. It’s because of this that Piper’s concern about the previous walk-out is able to finally diminish.

The last plates are cleared away and Saul gets to his feet almost instantly. His beady eyes bare down on them as he takes his third glass of whisky with him.

“It was nice meeting all of you,” he remarks placidly. “We’ll be in touch…maybe. Good luck with your endeavors.”

Lena wishes her farewells too, and the pair venture off to mingle with the rest of the attendees. The students at the table exchange confused looks about what to do next, but soon the rest of the event begins to get up and meander around, and they begin to do the same. Jada practically sprints away, Dylan at least claps Percy on the shoulder and gives them an informal goodbye before disappearing himself.

Thanks to Percy’s brief espionage, he’s able to inform them of approximately where their desired administrators could be. They work in a trio to scope out the groups of discussion in search for the badges labeled NYU, Columbia, and Juilliard.

They found the reps from NYU first, lounging at a table near the bar and chatting happily with a boy. Piper was grateful on behalf of Annabeth. She can’t imagine the relief she must be feeling after the incident earlier.

Percy sidles up against the bar, ordering Shirley Temples and summoning the girls beside him.

“Look normal,” he instructs and arranges them gently so their backs to the NYU table. He dishes their drinks out to him when they’re served.

He takes a sip, his eyes resting between their heads. “I’m going to keep an eye on them and the minute that guy is gone, we’re swooping in.”

“Nice strategy,” Piper praises as she enjoys her own drink.

“Do they look interested in him?” Annabeth wonders.

Percy shrugs, “Hard to say. They don’t have a notebook like Lenda did.”

“That could be a good thing,” Piper suggests. “Lena didn’t write anything about Dylan. Maybe this person just isn’t worth writing down.”

Annabeth considers this with a cocked head but her expression remains impartial.

When the boy leaves, Percy abandons his drink at the bar and drags them towards the table. Annabeth hardly needs to be dragged, quickly dropping his hand and adjusting her hair as they approach.

It’s apparent as soon as Annabeth introduces herself that she didn’t need their bolstering. She extends a slim hand out to the representatives, shaking it politely with a warm smile. They respond equally as kind, welcoming Annabeth with probing questions that she’s all too happy to answer. Percy and Piper linger for a bit, throwing in a few quips and anecdotes when appropriate but truly, Piper is watching a masterful persuader at work. She shouldn’t be surprised, and maybe she isn’t, but she listens in awe.

Once their conversation about the threat food deserts pose to cities and the disproportionate effect they have on low-income citizens, Piper grabs Percy’s attention and jerks her neck to imply they should leave. He understands, and looks grateful, as they carefully interject their goodbyes, and separate from the group. Their absence goes practically unnoticed.

They find Columbia administrators pressed up near the stage. Percy confidently strides up to them, Piper en tow, and puts out a firm hand. To no one’s surprise, their representatives had heard of Percy and had been informed of his RSVP ahead of time. Piper fades to the background as the discussion focuses on Percy’s records, accolades, and his projected performance for the rest of the season and at the Olympic Trials. She learns a lot about what events Percy favored, and while she didn’t know what warranted a good time, the reactions of the duo from Columbia told Piper all she needed to know.

Percy finishes his schmoozing rather quickly. The lead admissions officer all but confirms a scholarship offer in the near future. Piper gets goosebumps when Percy gushes about how grateful he is, his eyes wide and smile contagious as he hugs his new friends from the city.

They walk away with Percy’s giddy energy rubbing off on Piper.

“I can’t wait to tell my mom!” He exclaims. “They have one of the best teams in the country, Piper. And they want me.”

Piper smiles at him, “Of course they do, you can’t be that surprised. You’re Percy Jackson.”

He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, “It’s easy for people to put expectations on you, it’s hard to live up to them.”

“Shit,” she chuckles, “I can’t wait to tell them you said that.”

“Them? Who is them?”

Piper smirks, “The news team that comes to town when you make it to the Olympics.”

Percy’s laugh cuts through the harmonious crooning of the band. He pushes her away gently. “You better have good things to say.”

“The best,” she pretends to say sarcastically. Truthfully, she can’t imagine talking ill about Percy to anyone. He’s a giant sweetheart.

By now, the party had mingled enough that his previous memory of where people had been sat was no longer useful. They’re forced to patrol the throngs of people with laser-eyes focused on the chest’s of all the adult-aged people for anything that said Juilliard or remotely resembled the school emblem. As they did so, Piper found a relaxing comfort in Percy’s presence. His stature made it easier to move around politely, but it’s more than that. His easy-going nature helped her brain avoid jumping to conclusions and his easy jokes that she could bounce off of helped boost their friendship in a way that allowed her to skirt around the pressing guilt.

They found Annabeth during their search. She had moved on from NYU and was sitting down at an almost completely deserted table - except for a woman in thick glasses with gold frames and a navy blazer. Both are smiling, Annabeth’s dazzling as she laughs and whatever they’re discussing, it’s clearly amicable.

“Who is she talking to?” Percy questions. “I thought she’d be talking NYU’s ear off for as long as they’d let her.”

Piper shrugs, “It must’ve gone well, she’s in a good mood.”

As if sensing their stares, Annaberh’s eyes catch them and her smile broadens. She waves them over enthusiastically. Percy and Piper exchange a look before heeding her request.

“Piper!” Annabeth cheers as they take a seat at the table. “We were just speaking about you.”

Piper cocks her head, “Yeah? What about?”

“I was telling my new friend about how talented you are,” she explains, turning back to the woman in glasses.

“She had only the highest of compliments,” the woman confirms. She extends out a hand, “Winona Graves, head of admissions at Juilliard.”

Piper’s throat constricts in surprise. She coughs nervously and stares the woman down with wide eyes. Her brain stutters to form a thought.

Percy nudges her gently with an elbow. Her head suddenly snaps on straight and she reaches a wobbly hand out to shake the one being pointed at her.

“Nice to meet you, Miss Graves,” Piper blushes.

The woman smiles warmly, politely ignoring her nerves. “Please, I feel like I already know you, call me Winona.”

“Y-yes, thank you, Winona,” she stammers in response.

Annabeth is giving her a stunned look, an expression reading ‘I’ve never seen you like this.’

“I was telling her about how hard you’ve been working on your admissions piece,” she provides a life vest of an opportunity.

Piper nods frantically, “Yes, absolutely. Everyday, multiple times a day. Going to Juilliard is my dream - I’m sure you hear that all the time, but it’s true.”

Winona gives her a knowing, but pleased, nod. “I do, but it was my dream once, too. I can understand.”

“Oh, you’re an alumni?” Piper’s curiosity grows. “What program?”

“Oboe,” she answers, “but Annabeth says you are quite the flautist?”

“And pianist!” Percy interjects. Piper’s certain he’s never heard her play.

She grows crimson, “Annabeth doesn’t listen to a lot of music…”

“I know enough,” the blonde argues pointedly, “and I have ears.”

Winona chuckles at their exchange, “You have very dedicated friends, Piper. And they love your music, I would want to hear it.”

“I have my audition in the spring,” Piper informs.

“Hmm,” the woman continues, “are you nervous?”

Piper snorts, “Are you kidding? I’m petrified.”

Winona takes a sip of her glass of wine. “Why?”

Hesitantly, she answers, “It’s the biggest moment of my life.”

“So far.”

Piper isn’t sure how to interpret that response. She rubs her hands together below the table. She can feel Percy and Annabeth’s eyes, expecting her to talk more.

Winona stared at her with a gleam in her eyes, “The audition is a challenge, but it’s the first of many Juilliard poses. It’s a grueling schedule of rehearsal and classes and programs unlike any you would have taken thus far.”

“Yes,” she agrees blankly. It rings empty in the air.

“So, why?”

Piper blinks. “Why?”

Winona nods heavily, “Yes. Why Juilliard? Why music? It’s not stable, it’s not lucrative, and it’s a hard business to get into. So, why?”

Listening to her questions, Piper swallows. Her mind can think of a billion reasons but all of them are drowned out by how cheesy and unoriginal they are.

“Uh,” she begins less-than-eloquently, “I’m sure you’ve seen a lot of students today so I don’t want to repeat anything they said.”

“Try,” Winona shrugs.

Piper licks her lips, “Okay, well it’s simple, I guess. Music is the thing that makes me happy in my saddest moments. It helps me process thoughts. Some people journal or talk through their problems, I play. I have to do it, so I might as well be the best. And Juilliard is where the best go.”

She takes a breather, “I want to share it. The way the important people in my life have shared it with me.”

A break of silence fills the air after she finishes. Winona’s wide eyes seem glassy under the yellow lights. They haven’t left her since she began speaking.

“I don’t know what you guys are thinking,” Percy breaks the silence, “but that was moving.”

Winona grins slyly, “I think so, too.”

Piper’s throat has gone dry. She takes a sip of whatever water was near them, immediately regretting taking someone else’s. She hopes no one notices.

“And maybe it’s because there haven't been many Juilliard hopefuls in attendance tonight,” Winona begins, “but you stand out. I’d like you to send some of your best performances to this email.”

She takes out a business card, sliding it across the table to them. Piper takes it with shaky fingers, reading the email printed at the bottom.

[email protected]

“Oh,” she mumbles weakly.

Winona sighs in amusement, “Don’t panic, Piper. It’s not your audition, and I’m not a part of the audition committee. I want to know if the hype is true. And if it is, I will pass it along to the right colleagues.”

“Really?”

“Yes, but no promises. They might like it, but even so your audition will hold precedence,” she explains. “And whoever views it will expect you to improve between now and then, as well, so try not to fret too much about what to send. Trust your gut. It doesn’t have to be an audition song, either. In fact, I’d prefer it not.”

Piper tucks the business card away in her purse for safe keeping. “Okay, yes, I will. Thank you so much.”

She’s waved off. “Don’t thank me yet,” Winona says.

“I will send it as soon as I can,” Piper reconfirms.

“I know you will,” the woman smiles with lips that practically reach her glasses frames. She gathers her things from around her, “I should get going. It was a pleasure to meet you, have a good rest of your evening - and good luck in your respective futures.”

The trio mumble their thank you’s as Winona marches away in sharp heels. As soon as she’s out of earshot, Piper’s head whips towards Annabeth.

“What did you say?” She’s bewildered.

Annabeth has a mischievous glint in her eyes, “True things, about how your music is moving and what it means to you.”

“What did you say it means to me?” Piper asks again. She doesn’t understand how less than fifteen minutes ago, she was praying for a chance at Juilliard and now, it’s within her grasp.

“It’s how you show love,” she says simply. “It is love, to you.”

Piper feels an ache from deep within her. Suddenly, her dress is suffocating. The temperature has spiked twenty degrees. Annabeth’s maintained eye contact is threatening the charade they’ve played well thus far in front of Percy.

She clears her throat. “Thank you. I appreciate it,” her voice trembles with the slightest hint of vulnerability.

“How did NYU go?” Percy asks.

Annabeth’s head jerks, like she was reminded of Percy’s presence. She pushes a strand of loose hair out of her face.

“Really well,” she responds breathlessly. “I think, anyway. They liked my ‘view’ on modern architecture and they gave me a book recommendation that I’ll check out.”

“That sounds good,” Piper encourages.

“It’s not direct correspondence with the dean of admissions,” Annabeth teases, prodding her gently with her arm. “But I’m happy with it. I think I made an impression.”

“I’m sure you did,” Percy adds.

“Yeah, can we get out of here?” Annabeth suggests out of the blue. “Some of the people are annoying and while this ballroom is gorgeous, it’s getting stuffy.”

“Yes, please,” Piper leaps to her feet.

Percy laughs, “As you insist, m’ladies.”

They gather together as a group and navigate their way out to the waiting taxis. The ride home, Percy filled Annabeth in on his meeting with Columbia and she exchanged with them what they had missed with NYU. As Piper suspected, she had been underselling how well it went when she answered Piper earlier.

Needless to say, the spirits on the ride home were sky high. They chattered over one another as they shared tiny details and funny moments they had witnessed throughout the event. Now that they were gone, they could say anything without fear of being interrupted. They joked about Jada and Percy followed Dylan on Instagram to see if he managed to get any interest from colleges tonight. Their laughter was loud as Percy did his impression of Annabeth talking back to Saul, loud enough that Piper felt bad for the Uber driver up front.

The minute they get back to the hotel, Piper kicks off her heels and undoes her hair. She pretends not to notice Annabeth staring as her hair falls down past her shoulders.

Percy undoes his tie and unbuttons his cufflinks. “I am ready to relax,” he sighs.

“Me, too,” Piper flops onto the couch to quickly text her dad the good news.

Annabeth looks at them incredulously, “C’mon guys, we just had a successful night, that’s worthy of celebration - especially on Frederick’s dime.”

“What did you have in mind?” Piper wondered. She’s immediately taking the bait.

“Uh-oh,” Percy chuckles.

“Well,” Annabeth saunters over the fully-stocked mini fridge. “There’s gotta be something fun in here, and my dad won’t check the bill that’s for sure.”

Piper sat up, “I like the way you think, Chase.”

Annabeth fishes into the fridge, pulling out a bunch of tiny champagne and wine bottles. “Let’s sneak these babies down to the pool,” she grins wickedly.

“I’m not so sure about this,” Percy’s eyes flash between them nervously. “We have to get up early and the pool’s probably closed. And we’re underage.”

“Party pooper,” Piper sticks her tongue out at him.

“I can’t get coded,” he said matter-of-factly. His tone is infinitely more serious than she had anticipated.

“So don’t drink,” Annabeth shrugs like it’s obvious. “You can still come. You can call it extra training, if you want.”

Percy’s eyes narrow slightly, but as he studies the eager girls longer he realizes there’s no use in arguing with them.

“I suppose someone needs to make sure you guys don’t drown,” he gives in with a tiny grin peeking out from behind his cheeks.

Piper claps, “I’m going to go change into my swimsuit!”

Annabeth pops the first bottle of champagne open happily. It flows over the sides a tad, but she acts quickly and catches most of it in her mouth. Percy gets up to find some sort of glasses as Piper disappears to change.

As soon as she’s in her suit, Annabeth is handing her an individual bottle of her own before changing herself. Percy has already slipped into his own trunks, thankfully not his swim pair.

Piper stashes their alcohol in a bag with a bunch of towels on top, and they sneak their way down to the pool when Annabeth finishes changing.

It’s nearly midnight and the hotel is quiet except for a few passerbyers. No one gives them a second glance as they trace their way to the lobby and follow the signs to the pool.

The pool is surprisingly empty for a Friday night. And strangely, no signs label what time it closes for the evening. With a flash of their keycard, they’re in.

Something flips on in the group once they hit the pleasant water. All the stress leading up to the night is released as they take turns canon-balling and playing Marco in Marco Polo. Percy scrounges up a volleyball and a playful volley ensues that lasts far too long for Piper’s liking. Annabeth, however, gets incredibly competitive. Her and Percy battle it out almost entirely on their own. Piper bows out to sip on her bottles of champagne, as her and Annabeth had been doing frequently in between their antics.

Sooner than she’d admit, Piper is happily buzzed. She opens her third or fourth bottle of whatever else they had brought, and sinks her body into the boiling water of the hot tub. Whatever remaining tension in her shoulders drains out into the water as she spreads her arms and sinks lower.

She opens her eyes to find Annabeth settling into the water opposite of her. Judging by the glassiness of her eyes and the rose tint on her cheeks, the alcohol is affecting her the same way.

And standing above her, looking down at the girls with tired eyes, is Percy.

“Are you guys going to be okay if I head back to the room?” He inquires. “I’m going to sneak in some laps before we leave in the morning and I’m getting tired. But if you guys need me - “

“You can go,” Annabeth tells him. She’s staring up at him with her big grey eyes. “We’ll be fine. And we have our phones if we need anything.”

Percy seems uncertain, “Alright…uh, I’ll take the key and leave the door propped. If you guys aren’t back in an hour or so I’m coming back.”

“No need,” Annabeth giggles. “We’ll be good.”

His eyes glance up to Piper, “Okay, but I will check in around 2.”

“2 o’clock,” Piper repeats in confirmation. “We will be back.”

He must take her word for it, because he bids them farewell before gathering his towel and exiting out the pool door.

Upon his exit, Piper can feel Annabeth’s eyes lock onto her like a heat seeking missile. Her drunken eyes return the gaze with equal intensity.

“Well, well, well,” Annabeth hums, “look who is all alone…”

Piper licks her lips, “Uh-huh, and by total accident, too.”

Annabeth feigns innocence, “My, I have no idea what you’re implying.”

“I’m sure,” she giggles.

The blonde takes this as a cue to drift across the hot tub and slink to Piper’s side. She bats her eyelashes up at her.

“Did you have a good time today?” Piper asks.

Annabeth laughs, “That’s what you want to talk about right now.”

Her hand snakes up to play with the blonde locks of hair that are slowly falling out of Annabeth’s updo. As she thinks over her next words, Piper’s mind is working to lock away details on the face blinking back at her.

“Yeah,” she decides. “We’re alone, I want you to be honest. No show.”

Annabeth thinks for a second. Her face softens. “I did have a good time,” she replies. “Besides the obvious, things went well. That’s all I wanted.”

Piper leans in to place a soft kiss on the freckles of her cheek. “Good,” she whispers, “that’s all I wanted, too.”

The other girl’s flirtatious energy returns. “You know what else I liked about tonight?”

“What?”

She tosses her wet hair over one shoulder. Slyly, Annabeth slips onto Piper’s lap. It throws her off, but after the momentary shock disappears, her hands find a home on Annabeth’s hip. She’s wearing a burnt orange bikini, meaning Piper’s fingers were connecting with bare skin that’s soft and slick against her finger tips.

“You looked incredibly handsome,” Annabeth teases in a low tone.

Piper’s eyes widen. She can feel her pulse vibrating through her veins. She gulps. “Yeah?”

Annabeth lowers her head until they’re touching foreheads. Her arms rest on Piper’s shoulder, her hands dangling behind her neck.

“Very handsome,” she nods, “your dress made you look…”

She doesn’t finish her sentence. Instead, her lips find Piper’s clumsily. Piper ignites to life, moving against Annabeth’s lips in a satisfying rhythm. She tastes of chlorine and tart wine and somehow it makes Piper insatiable.

Her grip tightens on Annabeth’s hip, tugging them as close as possible until their bodies are flush against one another. Piper’s lips take on a mind of their own until they’re straying to Annabeth’s ear, nipping gently. A sound Piper has never heard before rumbles through Annabeth’s body. She believes without the hot tub, her skin would still be steaming.

Annabeth gets her revenge for the nibble by biting lightly down on Piper’s bottom lip. She lets a moan escape, dropping her kisses lower to Annabeth’s collarbone. The chemical tang of the pool water tastes as sweet as candy on Piper’s tongue. She marks a trail along the curve of her neck, doing everything that crossed her mind when she first saw Annabeth in her dress.

The blonde tilts her head with a sigh, giving Piper access to previously unreachable territory. She takes it greedily. Her hands flatten on Annabeth’s sides, touching as much as her hands will let her. When her lips touch the spot where her shoulder meets collarbone, Piper sucks, taking a layer of Annabeth’s skin in her mouth. She’s rewarded with Annabeth’s body writhing against her lap.

It feels like Piper finally has a clear goal that she can simply reach out and grab. She doesn’t need to jump through hoops or schmooze her way to earn it. Here Annabeth is with her, both pleasantly drunk, with a bubble of privacy for what feels like the first time in ages. Nothing is standing in her way.

But someone is.

A cold feeling as sharp as ice water rolls down Piper’s spine. She yanks back from Annabeth at a neck breaking speed. Annabeth, who had just begun snaking her hands in Piper’s hair, freezes.

She stares down at Piper with an adorably puzzled look.

“Is everything okay?” She asks.

Gently, Piper slips away from Annabeth. She clears her throat. “Yes, truly…it’s all great.”

Annabeth practically pouts. “Then why doesn’t it feel like it?”

“It feels…” she sighs, “especially wrong with Percy upstairs.”

A deep frown overtakes Annabeth’s heart-shaped eyes. She reaches to the edge of the hot tub and takes a giant swig of her bottle of wine.

“You’re right,” she states with a swallow. “I’m sorry.”

Piper shakes her head, “Don’t be sorry. I put myself in this situation. And I loved…that. All of it. I just…”

Annabeth glances at her with bloodshot eyes, “I understand.”

Despite her words, Piper does grab Annabeth’s hand. “We can do something else fun.”

“Of course,” the blonde nods.

Piper finishes off her bottle. She drops her head onto Annabeth’s shoulder. “I mean it, anything you want.”

Annabeth’s interest is piqued. “Anything?”

“Well, not that,” she laughs. “I just told you so.”

“No, no, I have another idea,” Annabeth squeals.

“Oh,” Piper laughs, “and what’s that?”

The other girl leans forward, pressing her hot breath against her ears as she speaks, “Tattoos.”

She’s barely had time to process her words before Annabeth is leaping out of the hot tub. She swipes the remaining bottle of wine and hustles to the towels. As she walks, droplets of water fall to the wet tiles.

Piper drags herself out of the tub. Her buzz is stronger than ever but she knows she can’t let Annabeth, who stumbles as she wraps herself in her towel, anywhere by herself.

“Maybe when you’re not drunk,” she suggests.

Annabeth shakes her head, “No, now. It will numb the painnnn.”

Piper recovers her own towel. She dries her off as quickly as possible in order to keep up with Annabeth, who is already marching back to the hotel room.

“Annabeth!” She whispers as loudly as she can as they start to pass through the hallways. “You’re dripping water everywhere!”

She stops and crosses her arms. A firm pout is planted on her lips.

“You’re ruining the fun,” she whines.

Piper steps up and places her hands on Annabeth’s bicep. She begins rubbing the towel along her wet skin.

The drunk girl giggles, “This tickles.”

“You act like a toddler when you’re drunk,” Piper feigns annoyance.

Annabeth bats her eyelashes, “Do you like it?”

Piper laughs in her face, “Don’t say that sexily. That’s not sexy.”

“I’m not sexy?” She teases with a tongue peeking out of her mouth.

“Shut up,” Piper playfully pushes Annabeth in front. “Let’s get back to the room before Percy sends the troops.”

She tsks under her breath but spins around. This time she tightens the towel around her and thankfully less water is staining the posh hotel carpet. Piper follows behind her and keeps a careful watch as the blonde sways in her strides.

The hotel room is dark except for a lamp near the door, no doubt left on for them when they returned. Piper can see Percy’s leg flopping over the backside of the couch and hears soft snores, signifying he’s asleep. Annabeth saunters into the room, letting her towel fall to the floor as she does her best to tip-toe to the bedroom.

Piper flips off the light and trails after Annabeth. She peeks at Percy while passing, sure enough he’s passed out on his back with his mouth agape slightly. His hair is messier and to her surprise, he’s shirtless with a pair of rainbow boxers on. She stifles a laugh.

“Pipesssss,” Annabeth beckons.

She enters the bedroom, making sure to shut the double-doors quietly behind her so as not to disturb Percy. Annabeth has miraculously changed into her pajamas on her own, which consists of a cropped tank top and cloth shorts. She’s on the bed, awaiting Piper with wide, glassy eyes.

“I’m ready,” Annabeth declares. “And I know what I want.”

“I’m drunk too,” Piper warns. “Do you want an inebriated me stabbing your skin repeatedly with ink?”

“There’s no one I would rather stab me with ink drunk,” she grumbles stubbornly.

“I don’t have a needle.”

Annabeth smirks, “There’s a safety pin in my makeup bag.”

Piper raises an eyebrow, “I’m not getting out of this am I?”

“Not at all.”

Begrudgingly, Piper locates the makeup bag and a pen. She grabs a bottle of water, some paper towels, and anything else she can remember she’d need. It’s been a while since she’s done this, and the last time she gave someone else (Leo) one had been even longer.

Piper drags a chair beside the bed and sets up her supplies on the nightstand. During her search, Annabeth recovered snacks from God knows where and is munching on a bag of chips while sucking down the last of the wine.

“What am I doing?” Piper asks her.

Annabeth unlocks her phone to show her a photo on her browser. It’s an owl with big eyes, it’s simple enough to do as it appears to originate from carvings on stone or wood. It could be the alcohol still coursing through her system, but Piper feels a renewed sense of confidence in her abilities.

“Okay,” she nods, “where?”

The blonde pats the inside tip of her shoulder, above the elbow nearly where it meets her collarbone. Piper flinches.

“You sure?” She checks. “Last chance to back out.”

Annabeth stares at her with unfazed eyes, “Get to it, Pippy.”

Piper laughs loudly enough she fears Percy might wake up. “Pippy is not gonna become a thing.”

“We’ll see,” she lifts her chin mischievously.

Annabeth continues to munch on her chips as Piper uses a marker to trace out the design. She makes sure it won’t smudge, then bends the safety pin out so she has a better grip on it.

Using all her force, she then snaps the plastic pen nearly open so she has access to the ink. It splashes a bit on her hand. Annabeth squeals.

“Why didn’t you just twist it off?” She asks.

“Uh, who’s doing the art?” Piper rebuts. She doesn’t mention that the thought didn’t cross her mind. “Sit still.”

Surprisingly obedient, Annabeth listens. She mutters under her breath, “Pippy gets bossy when she’s drunk.”

Piper rolls her eyes but doesn’t warrant the joke with a response. She locks in on the task at hand, dipping the safety pin in the slim ink capsule. Carefully, she brings the sharp needle over to Annabeth’s skin and presses it in.

Under her touch, Annabeth flinches slightly.

“Are you okay?” Piper asks while she removes the needle.

“Yes,” she confirms, “it was cold.”

Piper continues. She finds the tediousness relaxing and after a few probes, Annabeth settles too.

The way they’ve arranged themselves, Piper is leaning over the left half of Annabeth’s body. Each time she takes a breath, Piper can feel it beneath her hands. And when she hits a particularly painful poke, she can feel Annabeth’s muscles stiffen up again and her breath hitch.

It’s silent as she works. She repeats the motions of poking a few lines, wiping off the excess ink, and inspecting her work with the hum of the hotel’s furnace in the background. Piper could swear they were in a liminal space. If it weren’t for Annabeth stealing glances at her progress with unassuming eyes, it would feel like a dream.

She’s halfway done when she catches Annabeth’s eyes staring at her. A knowing smirk creeps onto her lips.

“Can I help you?” She questions.

Annabeth has a small smile, like she’s keeping a secret and is trying to hide it. “I’m just watching,” she replies innocently. She’s moved her free arm so it’s propping her head up against the pillow, showing off her thinly veiled bicep muscle.

“And what are you thinking?” Piper poses.

She sighs, “You’re beautiful.”

Piper can feel the heat rise to her face. “Annabeth…”

“What?” She defends. “It’s a harmless compliment. And you are. Your eyes…I can watch your eyes all day. I like watching you do something you’re putting effort into. It’s fascinating. And your mouth twists in this cute little way.”

Annabeth mimics the way she’s describing Piper’s mouth. It makes a weird swirl of butterflies fight inside her stomach.

“That face is not attractive,” she argues.

“To me it is,” Annabeth insists. “It’s cool to see you focus on this and your piano and flute. I love it. You care so much.”

“I’m marking your body semi-permanently, of course I care.”

She grows frustrated, “That’s not what I mean. I just meant…I’ve always thought you were beautiful. But it's different…ugh, I think you’re the most beautiful when you’re pouring yourself into a craft. I can see your brain work. It makes me wonder what you’re thinking.”

Her words hit Piper at her core. She can feel goosebumps rise on her arms. She sees the way the dim lighting falls on Annabeth’s honeysuckle skin and the words melt over her like a warm blanket.

“Thank you,” Piper chokes out. She steadies her trembling hand, continuing her work and pulling her focus away from Annabeth’s marbled face.

“I mean it,” Annabeth hums. She adds in a sweet-song voice, “‘The face that launched a thousand ships.’”

“Huh?”

The blonde keeps her heavy stare with heavy eyelashes. “Helen of Troy. That’s what they said about her. And if I wasn’t drunk, Piper, I could write a thousand poems about you.”

Piper finishes the tattoo with one last dot. She blinks away the stinging feeling at her eyes.

“You’re drunk,” she murmurs.

Annabeth sits up, completely ignoring the finished piece on her shoulder. She touches her forehead to Piper’s.

“My thoughts are sober,” she whispers. Her wine breath is tart on Piper’s nose, drawing her in with its languid hint of pleasure.

Piper’s previous sentiments about Percy being a room away disappear like vapor in the wind. She presses a messy kiss to the corner of Annabeth’s mouth, her hand cupping the back of her head to pull her in closer.

Annabeth moans under her touch. She matches the kiss with equal force and sloppiness. Her hand drifts to Piper’s nearly bare chest and Piper doesn’t stop her.

They tumble onto the bed sideways, a mixture of limbs and tangled hair as their hands and tongues wander. Piper trails down her cheek, pressing down with her teeth gently that elicits an unearthly growl from deep within Annabeth’s throat.

“This is dangerous,” Piper warns. She can’t stop herself as she forms the words, continuing to move her own hand under Annabeth’s tank top.

Annabeth twists further down, her lips replacing where her hands were at the top of Piper’s breasts. “This is fun,” she insists.

Fun.

The word washes away Piper’s delusional, drunken spirit. She jerks away, prying her hands and mouth off of Annabeth with extreme difficulty.

“You’re drunk,” Piper repeats.

Annabeth crawls back toward her, “So are you.”

“We’re not doing this,” she remarks plainly. Annabeth starts a trail of kisses up her arm.

“Please,” she teases.

Piper tilts her chin up to look Annabeth in her eager eyes. Slowly, she shakes her head.

“Not like this,” she murmurs. “Not with Percy next door, and not when we’re too drunk to remember.”

Annabeth blinks at her for a few seconds. She frowns, letting her head drop into the crook of Piper’s neck. She shakes her head against her.

“You’re right. This is horrible.”

Piper stares blankly ahead. “It’s okay.”

“No,” Annabeth grumbles, “it’s despicable. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Let’s go to bed,” she suggests.

Annabeth flops backwards. “I’m sorry.”

Piper gets up from the bed. She cleans up the nightstand of all the tattooing materials. Annabeth has her eyes locked on the ceiling above.

“That wasn’t fair to you,” she says nimbly.

“You’re overthinking right now,” Piper explains. “You’re making yourself feel worse, go to bed.”

Annabeth doesn’t respond. Piper fetches moisturizer from the makeup bag. She slides into the bed, handing the lotion to the nearly crying girl beside her.

“You’re perfect,” she whines, “and I’m using you.”

Piper sighs, “I’m not perfect. You’re not using me. Put this on the tattoo.”

With flailing hands, Annabeth takes the lotion and smears it on her shoulder. She chucks the bottle down on the floor.

“What if it gets infected?” She wonders aloud.

Piper pulls the blankets up over them. She settles into the soft pillows.

“That was something to worry about an hour ago,” she points out. “Keep it clean and hydrated. And go to bed, it’ll be better in the morning.”

“You’re right,” Annabeth slouches further into the mattress. “I’m sorry.”

Piper frowns. “Stop saying sorry. You’ll have a headache in the morning but everything else will be fine. You’re overthinking. And, you can apologize more in the morning if you must. Just try to sleep.”

“Okay…” she responds hesitantly.

Guilt hits Piper like a truck. Annabeth’s drunken mind has made her worried sick and of course, and all her brain is worried about now is sleep. It came out of nowhere but her body is weighed down with exhaustion. Not to mention, she feels shitty enough about the Percy-cheating scandal and doesn’t need Annabeth sounding off about it beside her for 8 hours.

She reaches to the space between them, searching until she finds Annabeth’s hand. It’s clammy, but she raises it to her lips and presses a relaxed kiss to her thumb.

“Goodnight,” she wishes sweetly.

Annabeth returns the sentiments. Their hands fall back between them, still entwined.

“I’m sorry, Pippy,” Annabeth mutters tiredly for the last time.

Piper’s body burns from Annabeth’s touch, lips tingling, but her hunger for more is satiated with their bound hands. Despite herself, Piper’s eyes shut with a grin pressed into her pillow.

Chapter Text

Annabeth rolls onto her back in the morning with a burning ray of light cascading into her eyes. A thundering headache makes it feel like a laser is drilling into her brain. She groans, throwing a pillow over her head to block it out.

The pillow amounts to nothing. She launches it off her head, doing her best to squint the sun away by turning her body further into the sheets.

To her surprise, the new position allows Annabeth to spot a glass of water and a bottle of medicine set on the nightstand. She gulps it down gratefully with a handful of the pills. The time on her phone reads 9 am, their check out is in a couple of hours. There’s no use in wallowing in bed.

Groggily, Annabeth drags her nauseous body to the double doors and pries them open. Her weary eyes widen to find Piper reading a book on the couch, dressed and ready to go. She’s playing slow, tingling songs off of her phone. A schmorgas board of breakfast foods are laid out on the coffee table in front of her; pastries, eggs, toast, bacon, and a heaping of pancakes with an assortment of syrups to dress them. Her eyes zone in quickly on the mugs of steaming coffee that make her upset stomach ache for the caffeine.

At the sound of the doors opening, Piper glances over. Her rainbow eyes are red with tiredness, and with them comes a flashback of the drunken memories from the night before. Annabeth’s stomach rumbles again, this time from guilt and shame. Bile rises in her throat.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” she groans.

Piper lurches forward as if to help, Annabeth is already dashing to the bathroom. She pours the contents of her stomach into the toilet bowl. Her throat burns and her eyes sting, she wonders why she thought drinking last night was a good idea.

“Hey,” a soothing voice enters the room. Warm hands pull back Annabeth’s hair. She can smell Piper’s perfume over the sharp sting of vomit, the warm lavender provides some comfort.

Annabeth pukes again. Piper keeps her hair back, a gentle hand rubbing soothing circles on her back while her stomach continues to pour into the water.

She finishes manually pumping her stomach and Piper helps her get to her feet.

“You should eat something,” Piper gestures to the food in the living room as they exit the bathroom.

“I don’t think I can,” Annabeth groans. She sits on the couch weakly, the food in front of her is tempting but the pain in her abdomen urges her not to partake.

Piper sits opposite of her, “I know, but start with toast. You need something in your stomach that isn’t wine and champagne. It’ll make you feel better.”

Annabeth winces at the idea but obliges. She takes some of the buttered toast and starts to nibble on it.

“Where did this come from?” She questions.

“I ordered it,” Piper explains. “I was hungry, knew you would need food, and my dad gave me some money. I got enough for Percy, he’s still at the pool though.”

“That’s sweet,” Annabeth smiles limply. She hopes she doesn’t smell too much like vomit.

Piper starts loading up her plate with bacon, eggs, and English muffins that Annabeth had overlooked. They eat in silence except for the drum of whatever music Piper was playing. She hums along with it as she butters her muffin.

“I’m sorry about last night,” Annabeth says as she finishes her first slice of toast. Her stomach is, admittedly, grateful for the nourishment.

“I know,” Piper laughs. “You said so many times.”

Annabeth blushes with embarrassment, “I wanted to say it again. I need to get my head on straight and getting drunk obviously wasn’t the way to do it.”

“Many people have fallen for that trap,” Piper jokes.

She chuckles, “I guess. It won’t happen again.”

“We’ll see.”

They share a giggle. Annabeth cautiously starts to explore the other foods, starting with eggs and bacon. The grease coats her ill stomach in a way that has never felt so satisfying.

“For what it’s worth,” Piper adds, “yesterday was a good day. All of it. I had fun, even with your incessant apologies.”

Annabeth smirks glumly, “Thanks.”

“You’re a good kisser,” she teases, “and what was it you said? ‘I could write a thousand poems about you.’ I look forward to receiving them.”

A wave of humiliation makes Annabeth’s stomach feel ill again. She hides her face with a pillow next to her. Piper’s laugh echoes in the room.

“I can’t believe I said that,” she laments.

Piper reaches across the table to push the pillow aside, “Don’t be ashamed. It was cute.”

Annabeth blinks away the shame and shrugs. “I guess if it works I can’t be too upset.”

She eats her meal feeling a mix of satisfaction and a little residual embarrassment. She chooses to believe her words as they eat in silence.

At the front of the room, the door clicks open and Percy strides in. His hair is wet and he brings in a wafting smell of chlorine, but he’s changed into a pair of joggers and a sweatshirt. A happy-go-lucky smile is on his face.

Annabeth feels a weight press down on her shoulders. She clears her throat and quickly chokes down the forkful of eggs in front of her.

“Good morning, gals,” he exclaims cheerily. “Nothing like an early morning swim to get the blood pumping - oh! Who got breakfast?”

Percy hustles over to the couch, taking a spot next to Piper. He starts assembling his collection of breakfast items with the hurriedness of a hungry athlete.

“Piper did,” Annabeth answers.

“Thanks so much, Pipes,” he talks through a mouthful of bacon.

Annabeth serves herself a cup of coffee, adding some cream and a little sugar. She pours another for Piper and Percy, taking the time to make them the way she knows they like. Piper murmurs her thank you through a big sip.

“Hey,” Percy says in a surprisingly hollow tone, “Annabeth, what’s on your shoulder?”

She follows his gaze. The owl is staring back at her. It’s a bit puffy and red, but turned out neat and pristine against her skin. Her arm extending the cup of coffee to him has it on wide display for everyone.

“A tattoo,” she answers. “Piper gave it to me last night after our swim.”

Percy eyebrows furrow in concern, “Really?”

“Yeah,” Annabeth confirms. “Do you like it? Owls are my favorite animal.”

He shakes his head, setting his fork down. “No, I don’t.”

“What?”

“I don’t like it,” Percy repeats sternly. “It’s not you.”

Annabeth blinks at him in confusion. She feels anger starting to replace the alcohol and eggs in her stomach.

“It’s literally my favorite animal,” she reiterates. “And a symbol of wisdom.”

He sighs, “Yeah, the animal is. But a sketchy tattoo in the spur of the moment? That’s not.”

Piper is staying noticeably silent as she finishes her plate and focuses on her coffee. Annabeth cocks her head at Percy.

“Okay…” she says in a warning, “anything else you want to say?”

Percy swallows. His shoulders tense up as he straightens his posture.

“Yeah,” he begins. “Last night…these last few weeks. I feel like you’ve changed. You…I don’t know what’s going on but I’m worried. This isn’t you.”

She doesn’t like his tone. It’s condescending, she’s suddenly a child in timeout with her father hollering at her. The hairs on her arms stand up.

“Maybe it is,” Annabeth grumbles. “Maybe you don’t know who I am.”

Percy scoffs, “That’s bullshit, Beth. We’ve always been a team and you’ve benched me. I get it, you need space, but I can’t sit back while you make dumb decisions out of some sort of identity crisis.”

Her frown deepens, “Dumb decisions? I’m having fun, Percy, for the first time in my life I’m not just worrying about what my father will think and what colleges are looking for. I enjoyed myself once, and suddenly I’m a different person?”

“You can enjoy yourself without getting drunk on your daddy’s dime and permanently altering your body on a whim!” He shouts. His voice rings sharply in her ears.

Piper coughs, “Um, it’s pen ink. It’ll probably only last a few months.”

“That’s not the point,” Percy rejects, “the point is the Annabeth I know wouldn’t have done any of it. It’s too risky.”

Annabeth rolls her eyes as she gets to her feet. Her fists are clenched at her side.

“You don’t know me, Percy,” she snaps. “Because I don’t know myself. I’ve always done what I’m told, and I refuse to do that any longer. I’m doing what I want now, for me and no one else.”

“And ‘who you are’ is someone who pushes people away and gets drunk tattoos?”

She shrugs, “Maybe, I don’t know. That’s what I’m trying to tell you and you aren’t listening. You just want me to do whatever you want.”

“That’s not true,” Percy growls. “I want you to do what you want but maybe put a little bit of fucking thought into it first.”

Annabeth scoffs at him, “Wow, thanks for the lecture. But if I wanted one, I would’ve stayed at home with my father.”

Percy flinches away, “Don’t say that. I’m not your dad.”

“You’re damn sure acting like him,” she spits.

Piper stands, too. She puts her hands out, “Okay, guys. A lot of things are being said. Let’s take a breather.”

Annabeth sighs. She lets her fists ease, “Piper’s right.”

“Oh, of fucking course she is,” Percy throws his hands up. “She’s the only one who matters to you lately.”

“Hey, c’mon,” Piper says dejectedly.

Percy looks at her with wide eyes, “It’s true!” He turns back to the blonde. “Annabeth, you say you want to start thinking for yourself but all I see is you doing whatever Piper wants.”

“That’s not true,” Piper tries to argue.

Annabeth steps forward, “Leave her out of this. You wanted us to be friends again.”

“I did,” he admits, “I didn’t realize it would mean you’d cut me out.”

“I didn’t plan that and I didn’t want it,” she defends, “but you’re leaving me no choice.”

Percy raises an eyebrow, “And what does that mean?”

“We’re done,” Annabeth drops the weight that’s been pressing on her consciousness.

He practically staggers back, shaking his head. He pinches at the bridge of his nose.

“Of course…” he sighs, “it was just a matter of time.”

Annabeth puffs air out of her mouth, “Yeah, sure. If that’s what you want to think.”

“What else am I supposed to think, Beth?” He asks tiredly.

She deflates under his hurt gaze. His nickname for her feels foreign in his sad tone. She knows him like the back of her hand, but the expression and anger he’s displaying is not one she’s familiar with. Using the nickname feels wrong all of a sudden.

“Don’t call me that right now.”

Percy nods, “Right. Yeah.”

He knows what she means.

The absence of yelling makes the silence deafening. Piper’s eyes are stuck between the two, and Annabeth wants to flee. She can’t.

“I’m going to go get the van,” Percy announces. He’s speaking softly, like he’s scared another yelling match might break out.

Piper shoves her hands into her pockets, “We’ll, uh, meet you down there.”

Percy nods again, grabbing his bag from the back of a chair. He marches out of the hotel room, letting the door slam shut behind him. It’s a startling remnant of his pent up anger, and a reminder that he had anger issues in his younger years. A chill makes her spine tingle.

Annabeth doesn’t wait around to hear Piper try to settle the situation. She disappears into the bedroom to collect her items. This time, she doesn’t organize her bags. She grabs what she can all at once, shoving them in piles into her bag. She feels bottled-up, ready to explode at the slightest inconvenience.

To her credit, Piper must be able to tell. She doddles in the living room, cleaning up what she can of the breakfast and silently gathering her belongings.

They exit the room without saying a word. The hallways and lobby of the hotel are bustling compared to what they saw in the middle of the night, with bellhops and guests and important business people rushing about to complete their tasks.

Annabeth returns to the front desk to check out. Piper silently takes both of their bags and heads out to find Percy. With Frederick’s card on file, there’s nothing she only has to collect the receipt before joining the rest of the group outside.

Its a different receptionist than yesterday. This woman is older, her name tag reads Beatrice. As Annabeth approached the desk, her eyes slowly drift up to take in her grubby, tired state with an unamused flat face.

“How can I help you?” Beatrice asks flatly.

Annabeth blinks, “Uh, I’m checking out. The room is under Chase.”

Beatrice nods shortly. Her fingers tap away on the keyboard. She furrows her brow, “Frederick Chase?”

“Yes, that’s the one.”

The lady looks her up and down again, “Am I supposed to believe you are Frederick?”

“He’s my dad,” Annabeth explains. “He booked the room for me weeks ago. And now I’m checking out.”

“We don’t book rooms to anyone under the age of 21,” Beatrice remarks.

She sighs, “Well, you did. I stayed here last night and our checkout is today. Can you just print the receipt and I’ll be on my way?”

“Of course,” Beatrice purses her lips. “Once your father is here with an ID, you’ll be free to go.”

Annabeth frowns, “He’s not here. He booked the room for me to stay in, online with his card. I can show you my ID.”

“I’m afraid that won’t work,” the receptionist objects, “you’ll have to wait for your father to arrive.”

“That’s ridiculous, he’s hours away,” she scoffs.

“You’re free to wait in the lobby,” Beatrice huffs with an upturned chin.

Annabeth stares back at her with an incredulous glare. She’s too hungover with residual anger leftover from her fight with Percy to handle Beatrice.

“This is insane,” she declares. “I didn’t need my father to check-in yesterday.”

Beatrice shrugs, “I don’t know who was on staff yesterday, but they broke protocol.”

“You have his card on file, just run it,” Annabeth insists.

“That is against protocol, as well. For all I know, you are not his daughter.”

She groans, “Then let me show you my ID.”

Beatrice’s face remains unchanged. “Miss, I can’t say it any other way. Without an adult over the age of 21, you are unable to checkout. You shouldn’t have been able to check in. I’m sorry.”

Annabeth hangs her head. Her migraine has begun pounding again. Piper and Percy are waiting outside with the van, and somehow she’s supposed to get her father here within the day.

She scratches the back of her neck, “Okay, can I - “

Suddenly, a graceful hand slides the familiar shiny plastic of an ID across the marble counter. Annabeth follows the hand to the body who possesses it. She nearly gags.

“Will this do?” The Mystery Woman asks the receptionist dryly.

It’s the same Mystery Woman from the dinner in Syracuse with her dad. The smell of grapefruit hits Annabeth’s nose, it transports her back to the dinner and the woman’s gift of champagne. She’s miraculously beautiful, with carved features upholding her stony expression and sharp gray eyes. Her brown hair is tucked into a tight bun, and instead of a posh cream dress she’s wearing high-waisted maroon slacks and a maroon blazer with gold buttons. A large, gold watch adorns her wrist.

Beatrice looks at the ID on the counter. She uplifts her nose, making a disinterested sound in her throat. Without a word, she begins to tap away at her computer.

“Thank you,” Annabeth murmurs. She straightens her posture, suddenly feeling feeble. “Again, I mean. I never got to thank you at the Syracuse fundraiser.”

The woman doesn’t react. “No need for niceties. I’ll help anyone if it’ll spite Frederick.”

Annabeth falters. She blinks to try and hide her surprise. “You know my father?”

The woman’s eyes flick over Annabeth’s face curiously. “A long time ago.”

Her words are cryptic. She gets the sense not to pry, and bites back her hundreds of questions.

“It’s a weird coincidence,” Annabeth begins, “running into you again, in the same circumstance.”

“I suppose,” the Mystery Woman deadpans.

Annabeth sticks out her hand, “I’m Annabeth, it’s nice to see you again.”

She glances at her hand as if pondering whether or not Annabeth is worthy. Finally, she takes it with a simple polite shake. Her hand is soft, her strong fingers are adorned with a shiny gold ring set with a glittery moonstone.

“Thea,” the woman introduces, “Thea McQueen-Gold.”

Annabeth smiles as their hands retract. “What, uh, are you doing here?”

“Same as you, checking out,” Thea answers plainly.

“You don’t…” Annabeth shakes her head. “Sorry, I assumed you lived in the city.”

Thea is watching Beatrice finish up whatever paperwork she’s printing off and recovers her ID. “Why?”

She blushes, “You seem like a city person, that's all.”

“I used to be,” the woman blanks.

Annabeth can’t help her curiosity. She knows better than to continue asking about her there, but maybe she can find clues.

“And now?” She wonders.

“I live in Rhode Island,” Thea says. “I’m a professor at the Rhode Island Institute of Design.”

This peaks Annabeth’s interest. She chews on her lip, wondering if it was bad form to ask about their architecture program and how passionate she is about the art form. Afterall, there are other schools…and with how dinner went, options would be nice.

“Were you in town for the seminar?” Annabeth postures.

Thea doesn’t seem to recognize what she means. Her head shakes, “No, I was meeting with a colleague about coming to speak to my class. Is that why you were here?”

Annabeth nods, “Yes, I want to go NYU for Architecture. My father seems more adamant on Harvard, though.”

“Hmph, sounds like Frederick,” Thea claims. “I never imagined he’d be forcing his daughter into going to those seminars. He doesn’t think it’s in poor taste to be begging?”

“Begging?”

Thea seems confused, “Yes, a lot of the students who go to those are seeking scholarships or are from, for lack of a better phrase, ‘new money.’”

The news doesn’t startle Annabeth so much as puzzle her. If what Thea was saying is true, then she was right - Frederick spends an inordinate amount of time trying to separate himself from the ‘new money’ title. And surely, sending his daughter to an event that’s notorious for it would reflect poorly. If he had the resources and connections he claimed, wouldn’t this event be obsolete? And, why couldn’t he have arranged a meeting with Saul directly?

Annabeth suspects the answer is simple - that required work on his behalf. It’s easier to foot the bill and send her away for a night than to arrange a council where he would be expected to attend.

“That is odd,” she agrees.

Thea’s face morphs into one of slight pity - and a shadow of something else in her eyes. It’s the most emotion she’s shown since they began talking.

Beatrice suddenly jerks her hand across the counter. She has a receipt gripped between two fingers.

“Here you are,” she says. “You’re all good to go, Miss Chase.”

Annabeth takes the paper. “Thank you.”

She turns back to Thea. Sheepishly, she gestures behind her. “I should get going, my friends are waiting. But, um, thanks again.”

“Before you go,” Thea digs into the bag she has set on the ground. She pulls something out and hands it over.

Annabeth takes it from her. In bold and gold italics, it reads: Thea McQueen-Gold, Department Head of History, Philosophy and the Social Sciences at Rhode Island Institute of Art and Design. An email and phone extension is printed below. Annabeth studied it for a minute, her eyes briefly flicking up the odd gray storm that were Thea’s eyes. A tug pulls at her stomach, like there’s something she’s missing.

“If you need anything,” Thea states. She clears her throat, “Feel free to reach out. I can answer questions about…admissions, if you have any.”

Annabeth nods dutifully, “I will, thank you.”

They share a nod again together, and Annabeth walks off with her receipt. The missing feeling has left her unsettled.

Piper is waiting by the lobby doors patiently. She cocks her head.

“Who was that?” She asks.

Annabeth puts the business card in her pocket. “Someone my father used to know.”

Piper doesn’t question it. They walk through the glass doors together.

Unlike when he picked them up, Percy doesn’t get out of the van that’s idling by the curb. Piper is putting the rest of the bags in the trunk.

Annabeth slides into the back seat, tucking away the receipt paper. The minute Piper gets into the passenger seat and clicks in her seatbelt, Percy whips the car out of the driveway. He joins the city traffic, his phone set up on the console to display the directions.

The ride home is different then the ride there. The silence speaks volumes, and unlike the silence at the beginning of the last ride, it’s thick with angry tension and hurt. Percy hands his phone to Piper without much acknowledgement and she plays music to fill the void of speech.

With the four hour drive staring her down and the drama seemingly surpassed for the time being, Annabeth is left with how hungover she is. Her migraine has dulled to a headache that numbly beats into the back of her forehead, and she isn’t puking but the ache in her stomach feels like an endless hole. She curls up across the backseat, using one of their bags as a makeshift pillow.

She stares up at the roof of the van, her body shifts with the turns and halts of the car. Her brain is running a marathon trying to keep up with the events of the last two days.

It’s hard to celebrate the small victory of the seminar when she can feel Percy stewing in the front seat. She should be happy in a way, she finally was able to do the hard part and officially break up.

This isn't a happy feeling, though. The heavy claw that has her heart in its grasp hasn’t lessened as she had hoped it would when the Percy part of her problem was solved. It’s still gnawing in her ribcage, tearing her apart from the inside out. At the end of the day, the truth remains a secret.

Annabeth wasn’t going to break up with him that way. She didn’t know exactly how she was going too, but it never involved comparing Percy to her father or any yelling on her part. She knew hurting him was going to be collateral from her actions, it was never her intention to add more hurt on top with harsh words and loud voices.

Piper had witnessed it all. Not only that, Percy is close to piecing the puzzle together. He picked up on her influence on Annabeth. He embellished it, Annabeth doesn’t blindly follow Piper’s word, but it won’t exactly come as a surprise whenever the dirty story is revealed.

Will it help, she wonders, when he knows the whole truth? Will it soften the blow? Or throw salt on the wound to know the full expanse of her dishonesty?

And the encounter with Mystery Woman - now she knows is named Thea. It opens up billions of questions and less answers. She knows RISD has a highly-acclaimed architecture program, it never crossed her mind with her New York plans. It’s certainly worth looking into, though she knows the acceptance rate is slim, she knows her application would be competitive.

Thea herself is still a mystery. The answers feel within her reach, her finger tips clawing at wisps of possibilities to how she would know Frederick. She makes a mental note to ask her father when he’s in a particularly good mood.

Eventually, she tires herself out. Her busy thoughts and sickly body find the swaying of the car as gentle as a porch swing. Slowly, her eyes shut and she drifts back to sleep.

~*~*~*~

“Annabeth?” She feels a gentle pushing. “Annabeth?”

She blinks her eyes open. The van has stopped, the city buildings replaced with tall oak trees. Piper is gently prodding her from outside the van, staring in at her horizontal body.

“Feeling better?” Piper asks.

Annabeth groans. She stretches out her sore and cramped limbs.

“Okay, let’s get on out,” the other girl jerks her head behind her. She drops her tone, “Percy is taking our bags to the doorstep, but uh, I think he wants to leave.”

Annabeth nods, prying herself off of the van seats and slipping out into the day. The sun does little warm her up in the chilly, late fall air. She shivers.

“How was the rest of the ride?” She asks. Her headache has dissipated and she feels refreshed.

Piper shrugs, “Awkward. Quiet. You didn’t miss anything. We exchanged our first words near the Catskills.”

Annabeth grimaces, “I’m sorry I left you with that. I had a huge migraine.”

“I bet,” she smirks knowingly.

Percy comes walking down from Piper’s driveway. He scratches the back of his neck as he observes the two.

“I should, uh, get the van back to my mom,” he mutters.

Annabeth agrees, “Yes, of course. Thanks for driving.”

“No problem,” he claps his hands together awkwardly. “I’ll see you guys, er, at school.”

The three all nod. Piper and Annabeth step onto the sidewalk so Percy can leave. The van hums off down the street, leaving the two girls by themselves in the afternoon light.

“Long night,” Piper exhales. She plops down on the curb.

Annabeth joins her, “Tell me about it.”

Piper stiffens when their arms touch. Annabeth notices immediately, her spine straightening.

“Are you okay?”

“Uh, yup,” she shrugs. “I just…I didn’t picture you breaking up with Percy in front of me. And I didn’t…I didn’t picture that I would come up. That’s a lot to process.”

Annabeth feels her heart stop. Her hands grow clammy.

“I - “

Piper cuts her off with a gentle raise of her hand, “You’re sorry. I know.”

“Oh, yeah,” she frowns, “I…I didn’t want it to go like that either.”

“Yeah.”

Silence follows. The dried up leaves sound like a skeleton’s bones as they are pushed around the concrete in the wind. Somewhere, a crow calls mournfully. It’s a fitting end to their New York adventure.

“I don’t know what else to say,” Annabeth murmurs.

Piper gets back to her feet. She dusts off her pants.

“I’m going home,” she says. “It’s not your fault, how it all went down, just…it’s hard to feel good about everything after that.”

This time it’s Annabeth muttering, “I know.”

“I didn’t like going through that,” Piper clarifies. Her eyes bore down at her.

Annabeth gets to her feet. She reaches out to grab Piper’s limp hands. They don’t respond to her touch.

“It won’t happen again,” she insists.

Piper chews on her cheek, “You can’t promise that.”

Annabeth’s downturned lips deepen. She feels Piper suck in a breath and break their hand hold. It physically pains her. She wants to reach out, take her away and never encounter the real world again. They could live in the woods, maybe…

“I agreed to this,” Piper remarks in a grim tone. “I agreed to it. I just…I’m going to go home, eat some food, and do some work.”

“Okay…” Annabeth steps forward to give her a kiss.

Piper steps back. She shakes her head smally, “We’re in front of your house…”

Annabeth looks up the lawn to the imposing figure of her family’s house. A car is in the driveway, lights are off and anyone could be staring out the window without her knowing.

“You’re right,” she grumbles.

“I’ll text you,” Piper states. “Promise.”

“Sounds good.”

Annabeth watches as Piper turns around. She strides up to her house with long legs, her messy dark hair like a curtain down her back. Annabeth found the familiar yearning for the situation to be different. She wishes she could kiss Piper goodbye and shout her love from the rooftops. And for the love of God, she wishes Frederick’s figure didn’t loom so largely over her life. His toxicity taints seemingly everything good. The business card in her pocket grows heavy as if it poses a solution.

Heaving a sigh, Annabeth carries her body up the driveway. She finds her bags set on the front doorstep, and picks them up lazily.

The house appears to be empty. On a Saturday afternoon, she assumes the boys are off at a robotics competition or tennis practice, Sheila their mode of transportation. She can smell that someone had made lunch recently, but doesn’t bother to investigate. She hikes her bags up to her room.

Despite how drained she still feels, Annabeth makes herself unpack her items. She does so numbly, pushing away the large sinkhole of guilt that’s starting to suck her insides out. Progress has been made, technically, and yet it feels like she’s farther behind than before.

“Annabeth?” The unmistakable voice of her father booms throughout the house. “Are you home?”

She winces. “Yes!”

“Come to my office!” He hollers back.

Annabeth groans. She mentally prepares herself the best she can on her journey down the stairs. The door to his office is cracked open for her. Gently, and while taking in a large breath, she knocks. An unintelligible grunt beckons her in.

Frederick’s office looks like it’s ripped directly from Stuffy Office Magazine. The air is stale, the furniture is polished mahogany wood and stiff armchairs. Large, heavy bookcases are covered in dense novels of varying levels of newness. Frederick’s degrees and certificates are hung proudly behind his desk, and the stiff family picture that Annabeth hates is for show on the only empty space on a bookshelf. She hardly comes in this room. It’s pompous attempt at looking professional is perfectly representative of everything she detests about her father.

She finds Frederick sitting in his leather desk chair. His glasses are off, set beside him on the desk. A full cup of coffee is leaving a condensation stain on the wood.

“Yes?” Annabeth asks as she steps into the room.

Frederick points to the chair opposite his desk. “Sit,” he demands coldly.

She obliges. The chair is firm under her. She wonders how often someone has actually sat in it. When she’s situated, she finds her father’s eyes glaring pointedly at her. This expression used to scare her when she was younger. She’s long adapted. If looks could kill, she would’ve been dead ages ago.

“We have to talk,” Frederick states.

Annabeth sits on her hands, “About?”

He stares at her expectantly. She’s never gotten along with her father, but rarely have their fights gotten extreme. It’s mostly bickering back and forth and petty jabs about her shaming the family name. The explosive fights, however, have always begun with this expectant look. It’s a test to see if she’ll own up to whatever it is he has uncovered.

“About what?” Annabeth asks.

“The neighbor,” Frederick replies.

“Piper?”

He nods, “Indeed. I think you know what happened.”

Annabeth’s heart stops. Is it possible that he had witnessed their hand-holding? It’s not exactly a damning piece of evidence, friends do that all the time, but with all the time they’d been spending together, perhaps Frederick had connected the dots.

Her chest tightens. She grips the edge of the chair’s seat, telling herself to continue breathing.

“It’s unacceptable,” Frederick begins. “I will not tolerate that disrespect under my own damn roof.”

She pauses. Briefly, a moment of relief allows her to calm back down.

“What do you mean?” Annabeth wonders.

Frederick’s lips tighten. “That girl was highly disrespectful to me yesterday. She talked back to me, showed absolutely no decorum, and is not fit to be associated with us. She’s a child, I’m an adult, and I won’t stand for it. I’m tempted to forbid you from seeing her.”

Annabeth holds back the loud laugh she can feel rising in her. As if he, a borderline absent and most definitely distant father, could have any control over who she sees and when is laughable. And the way he’s describing it, like he’s being bullied, is amusing in and of itself.

“I’m sorry…” she begins in confusion, “I haven’t heard about this. What did she say?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he shakes his head. “Consider this a warning to both of you. If it continues, she will not be considered welcome in this household.”

“Uh-huh,” Annabeth hums sarcastically. Frederick doesn’t pick up on it.

“Don’t get me started on her influence,” he continues. “With all that metal in her face and the ripped clothes she wears…I’ve seen her navel, Annabeth. A woman should demonstrate grace, not show her stomach to anyone with eyes.”

Annabeth bites her lip. It’s hard to be pissed off with what he’s saying when she’s so relieved that he hasn’t found out that they frequently make out. Or, about the dreaded Saul and her behavior towards him last night.

“Is that all?” She inquires. It’s a fight to keep her tone flat, and not ruined by the chuckling she wishes she could revel in.

Frederick blinks at her. He then leans back in his chair, “How did the seminar go? Did you meet up with Saul?”

Annabeth pales. Judging by the immediate line of anger that appears on her father’s forehead, she didn’t hide her reaction well.

“What happened?” He barks.

“I’m not going to Harvard,” she explains steadily.

Frederick raises a bushy eyebrow, “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything,” Annabeth lies. “And I don’t appreciate you lording your fraternity ties around to get me into schools I have no desire to go to.”

“You don’t know what you want,” he argues. “Harvard is an institution. It opens doors. Generations of Chase men have gone and so will you.”

Annabeth rolls her eyes, “I’m not a man. Push those dreams on Bobby and Matthew, not me.”

“I don’t have to ‘push’ it on them, they understand their duty,” he throws back at her.

“Oh, please,” she groans, “they’re 13. They laugh at the word duty.”

Frederick leans forward, “This isn’t about them, Anna Elizabeth. Why do you insist on spitting upon the work I put in to get you a good future?”

“Because it’s not the future I want,” Annabeth responds point-blank. “And if you really cared, you wouldn’t have sent me away to some pity seminar. You would’ve set up a meeting with Saul yourself, or better yet, actually fucking listened to what I want.”

“Language!” He shouts. His voice echoes in the dull room. She flinches.

Frederick calms himself down briefly. “And what, exactly, do you want?”

“It’s always been NYU,” Annabeth tells.

“That’s not Ivy League,” he scoffs.

Nervously, Annabeth licks her lips. She’s feeling bold. “Okay, I’ve also been considering the Rhode Island Institute of Design.”

Frederick’s face somehow turns red at the same time as he grows pale. His eyes widen.

“Absolutely not,” his fist hits the desk and it shakes under his touch.

This does little to scare Annabeth. She’s conversely intrigued by why it bothers him. She digs into her pocket, setting the business card out for him to see.

“I met this woman,” Annabeth sets the trap. “She said I’d be a good fit for their program.”

Frederick eyes up the card. His jaw sets as he grinds his teeth.

“You are not to talk to that woman,” he bites. “She’s trouble.”

Annabeth stares at him unbelieving, “I doubt that a department head at a prestigious school is trouble.”

“You don’t know what you’re getting into,” he snaps. “If I find you so much as breathing her name, you can consider my financial help revoked.”

Despite her performance thus far, Annabeth’s mouth falls open. She shuts it as soon as her brain catches up. Frederick fell for her trap, but it didn’t give her any more answers and called her bluff while doing so.

“Alright,” she calms, “I won’t.”

Smugly, Frederick adjusts his sport coat. His shoulders relax.

“We’ll discuss Harvard later,” he settles.

Annabeth begins to object, “But - “

Frederick shakes his head roughly, “You will apply.”

Quickly, she does the math in her head. With Frederick, the concession of simply applying versus forced attendance is a bit of a win. If she doesn’t get in, the fight is over. If she does get in, that’s a fight she can finish at a later date. Considering all on her plate, it’ll be one last thing to worry about for the time being.

“Okay,” Annabeth relents.

“Good,” Frederick mutters. He takes a sip of his coffee, “You can go now,” he permits.

Annabeth gets to her feet. She makes an effort to leave the room casually, though she couldn't get out of the cramped office fast enough. The door shuts firmly behind her.

In her room, she bundles up in the bed with her laptop. The curiosity within her is a hungry beast with a simple desire: what about Thea got her father worked up like that?

Frederick Chase is a man with a short temper, especially when it comes to Annabeth. He’s easily frustrated when things don’t go according to his plan, as he demonstrated moments prior. However, that type of fast-acting rage was somehow unfamiliar to Annabeth. She’s seen it only a handful of times before when she’d press her luck.

In the search engine, Annabeth types out Thea McQueen-Gold. She presses enter, opening up a world of pages and links for her to delve into.

The first link is to the RISD page describing her apartment and position within the staff. A short paragraph gives a brief summary of what classes Thea teaches, how long she’s been with the program, and the extensive qualifications she possesses. Annabeth is shocked to learn she’s won numerous awards, both for teaching and her own work. It also notes the years she spent studying under other established professors in the field; through internships, partnerships, well-funded projects, and research collaboration. She’s a badass. And, as Frederick would approve of, a Harvard grad.

Unsatisfied, Annabeth moves on to the second link. It’s an article describing her work in conjunction with an archeology dig that discovered new, ancient Egyptian artifacts and how she helped identify them. According to Thea, it completely changes their previously held theories on Egyptian fertility beliefs and the purpose of the artifacts they’d found in the past.

While Annabeth does find the article fascinating, there’s no evidence as to why Frederick would be worried about her connection with Thea. If anything, she’d be surprised if her father didn’t find Thea’s work equally as impressive as Annabeth did.

The third result proves to be informative. It’s Thea’s personal website, with contact information for business inquiries and questions. It has a page dedicated to the handful of books she’s authored, with their blurbs and purchasing information.

Lastly, in a biography, it reads:

Thea McQueen-Gold is an established historian and sociologist specializing in the integration of art in culture. Her expertise ranges from ancient civilizations to the developing postmodern beliefs across the globe. Currently a Department Head at Rhode Island Institute of Design, McQueen-Gold enjoys teaching our gifted youth about the importance of the past and how it influences our future. Out of campus life, McQueen-Gold works on her own research on fertility art and its implications on women in ancient societies.

McQueen-Gold currently resides in Providence, Rhode Island with her loving wife, Diane. They are the proud parents to a cat (Celeste) and dog (Minnie). They enjoy hiking, reading, and camping as a family in the beautiful backdrop of New England.

Annabeth pauses. This isn’t the sure-fire explanation she was searching for, but it was the beginning of one. A lesbian…Thea is a lesbian. That’s reason enough for homophobic Frederick to intervene, but doesn’t explain the ferocity in his threat. Despite his faults, Frederick doesn’t throw around revoking his financial support as often as she feels he might. For him to threaten it quickly and in a moment of anger, there has to be something beyond her sapphic lifestyle.

Maybe if he was aware of how sapphic Annabeth’s lifestyle was becoming, the threat would be apropos. As far she knows, that’s a piece of knowledge even her boundlessly intelligent father doesn’t possess.

There’s a missing puzzle piece in Thea and Frederick’s story, but Annabeth has no clue where to go from here. Other than a burgeoning fondness for Thea, Annabeth has no different thoughts or opinions than she did before her investigation. And, unfortunately, no idea where else to look.

Attached to the biography, is a picture of Thea with, presumably, her wife and their pets. It’s a selfie of the four, and judging by the lush forest and tent behind them, they are camping. Diane is holding the camera. She’s equally as gorgeous as Thea, with toffee colored skin and luscious black hair. Her eyes are a glossy blue and bright with humor as she smiles at the camera. A fluffy dog face is peeking out from under her arm. Thea is embracing her and holding the cat, Celeste, in her free hand. She has crinkles at the corner of her eyelids, it’s the first time Annabeth has seen a true smile on the woman’s face. Everyone pictured is drenched, with different colored raincoats sticking to their skin. It’s a happy photo of a deliriously joyful family that even a rainstorm couldn’t impede upon.

Annabeth gives up on her search with a groan. She flippantly tosses her laptop aside. For the time being she’ll have to accept the amount of information she has, until there’s a break in the case. Perhaps if she hides her time, she can eek a couple more reactions out of her father and he might give up new leads.

She gets lost diving into the programs RISD has to offer. Name an art form, and they have an acclaimed professor running an elite program. The head of the architecture department has built some of her favorite buildings in Seattle and a couple in New York, and has written a book she adds to her online cart for later. It’s harder to get in to than NYU, but as she scrolls down the extensive list of alumni, she finds it calling to her.

The campus is gorgeous, too. It’s in the center of Providence, with a river cutting through campus and
only a stone’s throw away from Brown. It’s a mix of towering old steeples, modern office buildings, but with tons of brownstones that dot between luscious parks. It’s a bustling city, with a smaller town feel. She can see why Thea had settled down here, it’s connected to the grid but the waterways and deep green still evokes nature.

Her mind might not be all that set on NYU as she thought.

With her mind free, she checks her phone. There’s no texts from Piper, despite her promise to reach out earlier. A prick of worry sinks into her skin. She does her best to push it aside. They’d only gone their separate ways a couple of hours ago. Piper explained she needed to decompress, and she wouldn’t have offered to text if she didn’t want too…right?

A text from Will catches her attention, thankfully prying her thoughts away from Piper.

william: how’d your love triangle go?

Annabeth bites her lip and texts if he’s free to get an early dinner. He responds almost immediately with the address to the diner down the road from Goode High. She smiles, quickly grabbing her car keys and heading out.

The ‘Diner,’ which is named just that, is part of the heartbeat in their small town. It’s close proximity to Goode High makes it the perfect hotbed for students after school and before their extracurriculars to get a good bite, but it’s hometown vibe cements it as a usual spot for older folks on their way home from work or a quick stop for good food on a busy day. It’s old, with worn leather booths and aging photos of family, friends, and the regular customers. It smells of chicken noodle soup and the special sandwich of the day whenever you step foot through the double doors.

Will is sitting at a booth, facing the doors and he waves her over. As predicted, The ‘Diner’ is full on a Saturday night. Blue collar men line up the bar, eating burgers and throwing back bottles of beer, small families litter the round tables while navigating their shouting children, and groups of high schoolers like Will and Annabeth have put up shop at the larger booths and tables. Waitresses dash around with armfuls of cups or balancing large trays of steaming food. Annabeth’s stomach growls as she joins Will at the booth.

“Hi,” Will greets with a mischievous grin. “I ordered you a soda but our waiter will be back for food.”

She smiles back at him, “Thank you. And thanks for being readily available.”

He laughs. Will’s laugh sounds like wind chimes, she’s noticed. It puts an easy grin on her lips.

“I could use the distraction,” he dismisses breathily.

Before she begins, Annabeth does a quick inspection of her friend. He has light grey bags under his normally light eyes and his hair is uncharacteristically greasy, making his golden curls resemble bronze. They don’t carry the same bounce she’s used to seeing. She makes a mental note to ask him about it later. On top of it all, he’s wearing a plain sweatshirt and horribly scuffed sneakers - she’s never seen him so shab.

“Happy to provide,” she responds, if not a little suspicious

“Start from the beginning,” Will demands. He leans forward in his seat with eager, wide eyes.

Annabeth does. She recounts how the ride was surprisingly pleasant, they got along swimmingly. The hotel was posh and fun, something they all made sure to take full advantage of. The successful night of networking makes Will clap teasingly and give her a high-five. In all the drama, Annabeth forgot how the goal of the trip had been accomplished. They had managed to make a good impression. He was especially ecstatic as she described her confrontation with Saul.

“He deserved it,” Will claims with certainty. “Him and Frederick are scum.”

She laughs, but it quickly dissipates as she tells him the rest of the story. Despite her guilt, she doesn’t gloss over the torrid details of her and Piper in the hot tub. Will, to her surprise, is the most intrigued by this. He’s giggling like a school girl as she shows him the new tattoo on her shoulder.

“Wow,” he sighs in awe, “did it hurt?”

Annabeth winces, “I honestly don’t remember. I was too drunk.”

Will snickers, “Too drunk in love.”

“Shut up.”

The friendly tone disappears fast when she moves on to Percy’s disregard for her tattoo. She does her best to accurately recap, but by now the fight is a blur. It’s hard to get the specifics of what they said when she had been emotional, hungover, and angry.

“Long story short,” Annabeth summarizes. “I compared him to my dad and he said I can’t think for myself, or at least that I’m completely different now.”

Will raises his eyebrows. He slumps back in the booth with a sigh. “Oof, that’s rough.”

“I know,” she agrees glumly.

“You didn’t mean what you said,” he tries to soothe. “Percy will know that.”

Annabeth cocks her head at him, “Will he? He meant what he said. He’ll make the same assumption for me.”

“You’re not sure he did mean it,” Will argues.

“He did,” she doubles-down. “And from his perspective, I am completely different.”

The boy nods, “Yeah, because you haven’t told him anything. He has no reason to think you haven’t changed and aren’t pushing him away - because you have. And that’s okay. He’s hurt, that’s all.”

“That’s all?” Annabeth scoffs. “I hurt someone I care about. I don’t take that lightly.”

Will runs a hand through his hair, “Good. I’m only saying that once you guys have calmed down enough, if you explain everything, he’ll be forgiving. He just wants to know you’re okay.”

“He’s gonna be forgiving when he finds out about - “ Annabeth drops her voice, suddenly aware that they’re in a bustling restaurant. “ - Piper?”

“Okay, maybe not about that.”

She throws her head back in confusion at his words. She’s about to move on, when the waiter comes up awkwardly. They give their orders, desperate to be back in privacy.

“The cheating is rough,” Will admits. “But you didn’t do it to hurt him, or because you don’t care anymore. You did it because you’re confused, and once you explain that, and explain that you’re changing in an attempt to find your true self…I don’t think Percy will be able to stay mad.”

Annabeth groans, “That’s a long way away.”

“Good, you both can use the time to get over yourselves,” he remarks bluntly.

“Come again?”

Will shrugs, “You’re both being dramatic. Percy’s acting all wounded and waiting for you to lick him back to health or whatever, but won’t just admit he’s feeling cast out and ask what’s up.”

He points at her knowingly, “And you? It’s like Piper said during your beat down, you’re afraid of your own feelings. You won’t face them, not out loud. You both need the distance, you’re too used to breathing the same air every second of the day.”

Annabeth ponders his words slowly. They’re rubbing her the wrong way, but she can’t say that he’s wrong.

“You gotta find yourself as individuals,” Will crosses his arms at her. He looks like he’s given a TED talk.

“That’s what I was trying to do…” she grumbles.

He raises an eyebrow, “Yes, but you didn’t exactly make it easy on yourselves.”

Stubbornly, Annabeth nods, “I suppose.”

A quiet passes between them as they sip their drinks. His words soak in like a cool cloth on a hot forehead. She chews on ice.

“Sorry if that was blunt,” Will states. He has a sympathetic crease in his brow.

Annabeth shakes her head, “Don’t be. It’s a…painful truth.”

The waiter returns with their heaping plates of food. Annabeth’s mouth waters at her chicken sandwich and the crispy fries. Will dives into his soup like he hasn’t eaten in years.

“So, what about you?” Annabeth asks after they make a dent in their platters.

Will pales, “What do you mean?”

“You look rough,” she comments.

“Don’t hold back,” he laughs, taking a big gulp of water pointedly.

Annabeth shrugs, “Returning the bluntness.”

“That’s fair,” he shifts, “I haven’t been getting sleep. Insomnia, I guess.”

“Is that all?”

Will swallows again. His jaw is set. “Not entirely.”

The two stare at each other. He adjusts himself in the booth.

“It’s nothing horrible,” he assuages. “I’ve always had issues sleeping. My mom just has been picking up hours at work, which means I have to make sure my little sister gets dinner and does her homework and gets to her gymnastics and stuff. Lately, with school and all, it’s been hard.”

Annabeth frowns. She hadn’t a clue that Will had a younger sibling. He mentioned before how frequently his mom works, and she knew his mom was single. At some point, she realized that his father wasn’t in the picture. She hadn’t realized the amount of slack Will picks up.

Will is a new friend. All the time they’ve been spending together, he’s selflessly been offering a strong shoulder and open ear for her. She feels the boiling of shame in her stomach that she hasn’t been offering the same.

“Oh, Will,” she sighs sympathetically, “I didn’t know.”

“I don’t talk about it,” he states. “People have it worse. And I love my sister.”

Annabeth hums, “That doesn’t mean it’s easy.”

His face is stoic, “Someone has to do it.”

“Where’s your dad?” She questions. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“He’s on the road,” Will explains. “He’s a sound tech with a band. He sends money and usually is home for big events, does what he can and stuff. He’s just…not meant to be a dad.”

Annabeth thinks back to what Frederick has said anytime she asks about her mom. At a certain age, she stopped asking. He gave the same answer in different words.

“She wasn’t ready,” he would say, practically emotionless. “She tried for a while but at the end of the day she was not a mother.”

That had never made sense to Annabeth. How was Frederick ready to be a father? What had she done to get him, and how bad does that mean her mom was?

She can’t imagine how difficult it would be for Will, to know who his father is and accept that his role is going to be minimal. Especially when Will appears to be filling in that role. It’s amazing he doesn’t sound bitter.

“I’m sorry,” Annabeth says. “I know what a missing parent feels like.”

Will gives her a dim grin, “It’s okay. It’s normally fine. Sometimes I get in cycles with my insomnia, though. It’s hard to get sleep normally, harder when I’m extra stressed with little time.”

She nods, “That makes sense. Have you tried any sleep remedies?”

“Yeah, melatonin helps sometimes. Walks used to be effective, but it’s hard because I don’t like leaving Sami home alone at night - even if I’m in the neighborhood. I’ve tried weed too, that was good but Mom isn’t a fan because of the smell.”

Annabeth hides her momentary surprise about his marijuana use. Did everyone smoke except her?

“I can help,” she offers.

Will shakes his head, “That’s nice, but there’s not anything you can do. We need the money Mom gets picking up shifts.”

“I can come over so you can walk,” Annabeth suggests. “You can smoke on those walks. Obviously probably can’t be an every night thing, but could help when you need to get back on track.”

“Thanks,” he smiles, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Annabeth returns it, “You’d be helping me, too. I try to avoid my house as much as possible.”

“Okay, yeah…” he says hesitantly, “I’ll text you, I guess.”

She gives him a pointed stare, “You better.”

“I will, I will,” he concedes.

He’s about to open his mouth to continue the topic, when a girl bounces up to them. Annabeth glances up, locking eyes with Silena Beauregard’s dazzling eyes and perfectly curled hair.

“Annabeth Chase!” She squeals, sliding into the booth next to her.

Annabeth’s eyes do a quick sweep. She finds a table stocked with her cheerleader teammates. A couple of them are following Silena, the rest engaged in a rapid conversation. She makes room for Silena on the booth seat, she’s not sure how she feels about the sudden appearance. As discreetly as she can, she sends Will an apologetic look.

“Hi,” Annabeth says.

“Where have you been?” Silena asks. She helps herself to a fry off Annabeth’s plate.

She shrugs, “I’ve been busy, and cheer season is over so I guess we just haven’t seen each other.”

Silena waves her off, “We could if you sat with us at lunch still!”

Will raises a sheepish hand, “My bad, ah, Annabeth’s been helping me with school.”

“That’s our Annabeth,” Silena gushes. “Always willing to lend a hand.”

“Yeah,” Annabeth smiles, “I try.”

She cocks her head, “Is it true you and Percy broke up?”

A gut punch hits her in the side. She blanches.

“Oh,” she pulls on her fingers, “yeah, pretty much. This morning, actually.”

Silena’s eyes widen in surprise, “This morning? Bethany said last week, but I said that can’t be true, Annabeth would’ve told me.”

“No, this morning,” Annabeth confirms.

“And I’m just hearing about it?” Silena inquires.

“Yeah, sorry,” she apologizes. She’s not sure why.

Silena shrugs, “It’s okay. We should hang out soon, get all caught up. Charlie and I have been doing some little rendezvous.”

“That’s exciting!” Annabeth smiles. This time it’s genuine. Charlie hung around in the same circles when he was at Goode, and while he tended to be a bit of a wallflower, he was sweet.

“Yeah,” her cheeks flush red. “Anyway, why the change with Percy?”

Annabeth’s eyes find Will. Is this the moment? He stares back at her with a level gaze, his thoughts completely unreadable.

“I’m gay,” she deadpans.

Silena’s face falls. Her eyebrows crease. Desperately her eyes flicker back and forth between her and Will. He smiles weakly.

Suddenly, she bursts into laughter. She playfully shoves Annbeth’s shoulder.

“You’re funny,” she cackles. “Annabeth, you’re the straightest person I know.”

Will joins her laughter, making Silena double-over in her own fit with renewed energy. Annabeth chuckles politely alongside. She can’t fathom why it was a joke, but maybe it’s for the best.

Slowly, the laughter dies down. Will still giggles for a while, sending Annabeth a look like ‘wow, can you believe this?’

“Seriously,” Silena settles, “nothing wrong if you were but, I couldn’t name a straighter person if I tried.”

“Uh huh,” Annabeth laughs stiffly.

Will mumbles, “Try harder.”

“What’d ya say?” Silena questions.

“Nothing,” he bites back with a gleam in his exhausted eyes.

She throws her hair over a shoulder, “Okay, but yeah, Annabeth what happened? If you and Percy can’t make it work, what hope do we all have? You guys were the cutest. Percy is the best boyfriend - besides Charlie of course.”

Annabeth purses her lips, “He is. I just…there’s a lot going on before college next year and, I don’t know, things change.”

“People change,” Will adds in support.

Silena muses, “Yeah, that’s true. A world without you two together just doesn’t seem right, y’know?”

“Yeah,” Annabeth mutters half-heartedly. The conversation is starting to grate on her nerves, but with Silena trapping her in the booth there’s not an easy out.

And truthfully, she’s struggling with the same thought. For the entirety of her high school career, Percy has been there, whether they were a couple or not. They’ve done nearly everything together. Going into freshman year without Piper and unsure of herself, their dynamic had clicked and been a safe space for her. Now, Percy could realistically be gone forever.

“Okay so the party this Friday,” Silena switches the topic quickly. “Charlie has some friends who can hook us up with some kegs. We just have to meet them halfway to pick them up.”

Annabeth cocks her head, “What party?”

“The party,” Silena repeats as if it would clarify anything. “I hosted the last few weeks while you were gone, but my dad is getting annoyed that I made him stay in the basement. With you single and ready to mingle, what better time to take your hosting duties back over?”

“Er,” Annabeth blanks, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

The brunette bats her eyelashes, “You’re parties are better, Annabeth. Dakota offered to host but his house is smaller and smells like lasagna. And, you have a pool.”

She frowns, “It’s freezing out, who would swim?”

“It’s heated,” Silena solves.

“It is?” Annabeth truthfully didn’t know.

Silena nods, “Yes. So when should I tell Charlie we can pick it up?”

Under the table, Will gently prods Annabeth in the chin. She finds his gaze again, this time the message is clear. Silena is posing the perfect opportunity to put her money where her mouth is - she can stop hosting the parties. No one forced her to begin hosting, she’s been scared to cut them off, but she hates the mess they create. Especially when she rarely has fun at them.

“I’m not going to,” Annabeth puts her foot down.

“Why?” Her friend asks.

She reiterates her point, “I don’t want to host. They make a mess, I can’t let loose, and my dad will be home this weekend. I don’t want to. Sorry, but you’ll have to find someone else.”

Silena stares back at her blankly. Annabeth can see her struggling to comprehend her words.

“Okay,” she accepts. “That’s totally fine. We should have one last big one before the end of the school year, though. For old times sake and all that.”

Annabeth smiles happily, “Yeah, we can totally do that.”

“Awesome!” Silena throws her arms around Annabeth. She smells strongly of vanilla, its weirdly comforting.

They pull apart and Silena gets up from the booth. She looks between Annabeth and Will.

“I’ll get out of your hair,” she promises, “I just had to crash and say hi. Annabeth, please let’s get together. I still have questions about Percy, you didn’t get off that easy.”

Annabeth grimaces, “I believe that. See ya!”

With a bouncy wave, Silena dashes off to rejoin the cheerleaders. Annabeth knows everything they just discussed was going to be raging through the student body of Goode by the end of the night.

The minute Silena is out of ear shot, Will leans into the table to speak quietly without fear of anyone hearing.

“That was a lot,” he points out gleefully.

Annabeth agrees, “Yeah, that’s Silena. She’s really kind, just gets caught up in gossip and stuff sometimes.”

“She never asked how you were about the breakup,” Will notes. “She asked what happened and wanted all that info, but never bothered to check in with you.”

“She will.”

Will doesn’t seem sure. He shrugs it off. “Good job not hosting, though. I didn’t know you didn’t like them. I didn’t go myself, but I heard they were epic. I assumed you enjoyed them.”

“Hate them, is a better way of putting it,” Annabeth corrects.

“Well, that’s a big step,” he acknowledges, “way to go.”

“Thanks.” She doesn’t feel like she accomplished anything.

“Is your dad really going to be home?”

“Who knows?” Annabeth sighs, “I hope not.”

Will chews his lip, “Did something new happen?”

“Same old stuff,” she tells, “I mean, he’s annoyed I’m not interested in Harvard. Pissed about how I treated Saul. And weirdly annoyed about this other woman I met and gave me her card.”

“Oh?”

Annabeth quickly updates him on Thea. She spends too long describing the woman, which made Will raise an eyebrow. She tells him about how RISD would be a great school, and the way Frederick had blown it out of proportion.

“Frederick never fails to be a dick,” Will sums up.

“Yeah.”

“And you looked into her?”

Annabeth nods, “Yeah, read a lot about her work and she sounds amazing. She lives in Rhode Island. The only reason I can think he’d dislike her is because she’s gay. Or that she might sway me away from Harvard, but she doesn’t need to help with that. And, she went to Harvard so, I don’t know.”

Will makes a ‘hmph’ sound. “Weird. Would he really make that big of a fuss about a lesbian that lives states away?”

“I have no clue,” Annabeth answers honestly.

“Doesn’t add up,” he decides.

“Maybe he’s worried she’ll ‘share’ her lifestyle with me and I’ll ‘turn’ gay.”

Will guffaws, “Too late.”

Annabeth blushes. She bites her cheek, “Apparently.”

“I would keep looking,” he admits.

“I will,” she agrees. “And I think RISD is a contender for me, now. I’m not going to rule that out because Frederick is having a tantrum.”

Will beams at her, “Amen. What are you going to do next?”

She shakes her head, “No, I want to reach out but I can’t exactly be like ‘my dad hates you, why?’”

“Fair,” he allows, “we’ll think of something.”

The rest of the dinner was pleasant. Annabeth badgered Will with questions about his sister, Sami, and what they liked to do together. Despite his tiredness, his blue eyes lit up while talking. She’s 8 and obsessed with horses and gymnastics. He explains that when he has the time, he tries to teach her how to cook whatever he’s making for dinner, so it’s fun and interactive while also teaching her for the future. Annabeth knows she’s sharing the same thought as Will - what’s going to happen when he’s at college next year?

Before they go their separate ways, Annabeth makes Will promise again that he’ll reach out when he needs help with Sami. Annabeth is a little excited at the idea of helping her with her homework and taking her to the park. She never minded when Estelle had to unexpectedly join a planned date with her and Percy, it made things livelier. It felt nice being an adult that was pleasant to a kid for a change.

In return, Annabeth promised to continue to keep Will in the loop. This is as much for her as him, she didn’t have anyone else who knew what was fully going on. She supposes she could genuinely tell Silena, like she attempted earlier. And now, it wouldn’t come as a huge surprise. But doing that without Will and what he said about her type of friendship, she wonders if Silena is someone she should confide in.

When she returns to the Chase household, Sheila and the boys have returned from their day of activities. As she steps into the house, the rest of her family is sitting at the dinner table passing around mashed potatoes and bread.

They can’t see her, or they don’t care, as she slips off her shoes and watches. Bobby is telling an animated story about something that happened to him today, with Matthew adding his dumb jokes and own opinion on the events. Sheila and Frederick listen dutifully while sipping on their drinks. They’re interacting harmoniously, like a typical nuclear family. Annabeth feels a shift of resentment, is this the family Frederick preferred? She’s sure she’s never seen that content, hidden grin on his face when she’s around.

Annabeth marches up to her room. She throws her bag on the ground and shuts the door firmly behind her.

“About time you got here,” a familiar, deep voice says.

A chill runs up Annabeth’s spine. She yelps, hair on her arms shooting up in goosebumps. She turns around to find Piper, lounging on the bed like she’s in her own room. An amused smirk is on her lips as she watches Annabeth’s fear dissipate.

“Oh my God,” Annabeth catches her breath, “what are you doing here?”

Piper shrugs nonchalantly, “I was in the neighborhood.”

Annabeth collapses on the bed beside Piper. She does her best to settle the anxiety that had grown in her. With Piper inches away and the reassurance that she isn’t mad, it’s easy to steady herself.

“Did you come in through the window?” She asks.

“You should really start locking it. Anyone can drop in.”

“Uh-huh,” Annabeth rolls her eyes playfully, “but then you might have to actually interact with my family.”

She feigns gagging, “Keep it unlocked, then.”

“That’s what I thought,” Annabeth replies smugly.

Piper’s hand drifts over and begins curling honey blonde hair between her fingers. Her touch is warm, the repetitive motion soothing. Annabeth finds herself scooting closer, and tucks her head in the crook of Piper’s side.

“So why are you here?” Annabeth wonders again. “Not that I don’t love the surprise.”

“I promised I would text,” she says in a light tone, “and then I really wanted to see you, so…”

“Hmm, I’m glad you came.”

Piper lowers herself in the bed to give Annabeth a comfier place on her shoulder. She takes this gift eagerly.

“Yeah?” Piper asks. She’s mindlessly playing with her hair still, twisting and rubbing the strands through her fingers.

Annabeth nods, “Yeah, I was worried you were mad.”

“No,” she replies, “I needed to think. I would’ve told you if I was mad.”

“Really?”

“Yup.”

“Okay,” Annabeth is pleased, “I would, too.”

Piper chuckles. Annabeth can hear the sound reverberate through her chest. It puts a smile on her face.

“Look at us,” Piper jokes, “two excellent communicators.”

She takes Piper’s free hand, returning the favor by playing with her slender fingers. Their hands dip in and out together like a playful dance, Annabeth watches with no thoughts as she tugs and fiddles with their hands. Piper’s palms are smooth and muscular, and surprisingly soft. Her nails are short and polished, but chipped at the edges.

“What were you thinking?” Annabeth asks. “About everything? What are your thoughts?”

Piper’s tone stays flat, “My thoughts don’t matter. Do you regret it?”

Annabeth gets a sense of deja vu. It feels like their relationship has always been intertwined with regret and desire. What they should do versus how they feel, it’s a continuous battle that isn’t over.

“I would do things differently, if I could,” she answers. “But I don’t regret it.”

“That’s enough, then,” Piper muses.

“I am really sorry you witnessed it all,” Annabeth tells her earnestly. “And that Percy brought you up. I don’t follow you blindly.”

She laughs, “I know. If you did, we would be in a very different place.”

Piper doesn’t have to say it for Annabeth to catch her meaning. In her world, they’re openly a couple and not afraid of PDA. They can tell their parents who they’re with and why, and walk into Prom hand in hand. Annabeth’s good spirit dips.

She pales, “Sorry for that, too…”

“Don’t be,” Piper shakes her head. “Your coming out journey is very different than mine was - I mean, is. That’s not something you should apologize for. I meant it when I said take the time you need.”

“I love you,” Annabeth blurts before she can stop herself.

The air is electrified immediately by those words. Annabeth can feel her heart racing in her chest, and hear the heavy thumping in her ears. A few months ago, she stood inside Piper’s room with clammy hands and millions of thoughts in her head and declared the same thing, only with the important preface of ‘I think’ in front of it.

They hadn’t spoken about that choice of words since. The memory existed between them, ever-present and stuck under their skin but no one had the bravery to speak it. Or bring the topic up.

And Annabeth, in another moment of recklessness, said the words again. She brought the secret back to life. She waits, her eyes squeezed shut, for a response.

“I…” Piper begins. Her voice cracks. The single word sends a pulse of nausea into Annabeth’s stomach. She winks her left eye open.

Piper sighs in content, “I love you, too.”

Annabeth sits up, she can feel Piper’s breath on her face. Both of their eyes are wide as they stare at each other.

“I love you,” Annabeth repeats in vague confusion. The words feel unbelievable on her tongue.

Piper shares a hesitant smile, “I love you, too.”

They collapse into one another, Annabeth searching hungrily for Piper’s lips. They lock together like magnets. Annabeth cups her face like they might float away. She keeps the kiss passionate but short, in order to learn from previous mistakes of getting too carried away too soon when Frederick and Sheila are under the same room.

She pulls away, hands still framing Piper’s face. “I wish I had said it someplace special, but hearing you talk I just…”

Piper gazes at her with watercolor eyes. A swell of emotions overcomes Annabeth, leaving her breathless. She stares at the perfect curve of Piper’s lips and the tiny mole hidden off to the corner of her forehead with an affection unfamiliar to her.

“I couldn’t help it,” she finishes breathlessly.

Piper places a small trail of kisses along Annabeth’s jaw. “It was perfect,” she whispers against her skin.

Annabeth exhales the tension building in her chest. They separate cautiously, eyes sneaking glances at each other with a secret desire to go further - but knowing the cost.

“My dad doesn’t like you,” Annabeth announces awkwardly. Her face immediately blossoms into a maroon.

Piper guffaws, “That’s what you thought of after we said, ‘I love you’ for the first time?”

She winces, “Er, yeah. I, uh, wanted to change the subject so I don’t do something I regret.”

“What would you regret?” Piper asks incredulously.

“Sleeping you with,” Annabeth replies bluntly. “Before I’m honest with myself. I don’t want to be…hidden like this. But I’m not ready to be…not hidden.”

“I figured,” she says gently, “and I’m not pushing. That’s okay.”

Annabeth nods, “You weren’t. I was…I have been. And I have to stop. This is me stopping.”

Piper smiles. A glimmer of pride twinkles in her eyes. “I understand.”

“We can still kiss,” Annabeth amends quickly. “You just can’t…you know.”

“I don’t know.”

“Do that thing you do.”

Her eyes broaden, “That ‘thing’ I do?”

“Yeah,” Annabeth insists, “when you kiss my neck or when you - “

Piper cocks her head at her. The light in the room brightens the corners of her eyes, and a slight smirk is tugging at the side of her lips seductively.

“‘When I’ what?” she inquires in a dark tone.

Annabeth shakes her head and looks away, “That! When you look at me like that!”

Piper puts her hands up in defense. She laughs, angling her body further away.

“Alright, alright, fine,” she agrees. “I’ll try not to.”

“Thank you.”

She stretches out on the bed. “What were you saying about your father hating me?”

Annabeth snorts at the memory, “He said you don’t display decorum and that you spoke to him disrespectfully.”

“Oh yeah,” Piper remembers. “I do, do that.”

“What did you say to him?”

The girl picks at her jeans, “I didn’t want to tell you. I didn’t want you to get upset.”

Annabeth frowns, “Piper…”

She waves it off nonchalantly, “It was right before the seminar, it wasn’t going to help anything.”

“What did you say?”

Piper chews on her cheek nervously, “I didn’t, like, call him a name or anything. I called him out for taking credit for your hard work and his absence and lack of caring.”

Annabeth’s mind swirls with a mix of appreciation, love, and bewilderment. She swallows.

“Okay, and what did he say?” She follows-up.

“What?” Piper blinks.

“I know Frederick and I know you,” Annabeth explains. “What did he say first?”

“Oh,” her voice drops. “That’s not important.”

“What did he say?”

Piper scratches her arm, “That I’m a waste of your time and Percy and I are ruining your chances at Harvard. And he basically implied my dad and I are trash.”

Annaberh’s fists clenched, “Jesus…”

“It’s not a big deal,” Piper assures. “I wasn’t going to listen.”

“You’re not trash,” Annabeth retorts.

Piper chuckles, “Thanks, I know.”

“He shouldn’t talk to you like that,” she grumbles.

“He shouldn’t talk to anyone like that,” Piper agrees. “But he does. And it didn’t hurt me. You like me, that’s enough.”

Annabeth frowns, “I mean, where does Frederick get off? He goes around acting like everyone is a chess piece for him to control. We have our own thoughts, we can move on our own”

Piper stares at her, as if trying to piece it all together. She blinks. “Where is all this coming from? This is more Frederick hate than usual.”

“He won’t let me talk to this woman I met,” Annabeth summarizes. “She’s interested in me attending a top school in Rhode Island, maybe, and he won’t let me entertain the idea because she’s a lesbian, maybe.”

“That’s a lot of maybes,” she notes.

“I know,” Annabeth allows, “I’m not confident he hates her because she’s a lesbian, but I don’t know why else he cares? He hates the idea more than he hates me going to NYU.”

“Damn.”

“But she would be an amazing professor for me,” she continues, “and I’d expect my dad to normally respect that. Their work overlaps a lot. And the school is prestigious. And she went to Harvard.”

Piper’s eyes narrow, “Their work overlaps and they both went to Harvard?”

“Yeah,” Annabeth confirms. “Normally my dad would be gushing about how awesome she is, but he threatened to take away my tuition money if I talk to her.”

“That’s fucked up,” she states bluntly. She raises a finger, “But, if they studied the same stuff, maybe they knew each other at Harvard? How old is this woman?”

A light bulb flickers off in Annabeth’s brain. Her mouth falls agape. “Piper, you’re a genius,” she deadpans.

Once the words leave her mouth, Annabeth springs into action. She slips off the bed to find her phone in her bag.
The clock on her phone tells her that her dad should be in his office, doing last minute work before going to bed.

“Thanks,” Piper says in confusion. She’s watching from the bed. “What are you doing?”

Annabeth slides her phone into her pocket. She takes a flashlight out from a drawer within her desk. “Follow me,” she instructs.

Promptly, Piper gets to her feet. Annabeth gestures for her to be relatively quiet, and guides them out the door.

As suspected, the rest of the house is quiet. At the bottom of the stairs, Annabeth can see her Frederick’s office light is on but the door is shut. She can hear the faint voices of the TV in the living room. She moves as quickly, but discreetly as possible, Piper trailing behind dutifully.

She leads them down the stairs and into the basement. At the far end, a small storage room looms ominously. Annabeth pushes the door open and switches the light on. The lightbulb zaps before it slowly flickers awake.

“What’s in here?” Piper asks. Her eyes take in the shelves and boxes that nearly cover the room.

Annabeth shrugs, “Old clothes and Christmas decorations, mostly. But…” she ventures further into the room.

At the far back corner on the bottom shelf, an older box labeled ‘COLLEGE’ has water stains at the corners. Annabeth pulls the box out. She wipes the dust off before flipping it open.

Most of the contents are useless. Hazy photos of her father and friends at Harvard, a couple of textbooks, tattered papers, and broken pencils take up a majority of the space. Piper plays around with a graphing calculator and laughs at a particularly dumb picture of Frederick at a frat party.

At the bottom of the box, Annabeth reveals a thick leather yearbook. She opens up the glossy paper with a satisfying crack.

“I didn’t know they made yearbooks for college,” Piper states. She sits on the floor beside her.

Annabeth peruses the pages, “Only the nerds get them.”

She flicks through the book quickly, despite the actual need within her wanting to see what famous alumni might have overlapped with Frederick. She makes a mental note to look through it later.

Finally, she finds the M’s. Annabeth assumed the ‘Gold’ in Thea’s surname came from her wife, but as she looks through the pages she can’t find anyone by the name Thea. She tries the last name Gold, and still no luck.

“She’s not in here,” Annabeth drops the book. “At least not under a name I know.”

“Hm,” Piper picks it up. “Thea isn’t a crazy common name.”

“Yeah, but I’m not searching through every row,” she sighs.

Piper mindlessly flicks through the pages. Not accepting the momentary defeat, Annabeth starts back in the box. The yearbook covered a bunch of cut newspaper articles and water-stained pictures.

Annabeth finds no joy in the articles about random research done at Havard, one that described her dad’s debate team victory, and other unimportant events. The pictures are nearly all identical - random boys and the occasional girl with crazy hair, drinking or studying or slamming pizza down their throats. She wonders where these people are now.

“Annabeth?” Piper asks suddenly.

“What?” She replies, only half-listening. She’s distracted by a picture that’s stuck to another, the photo itself blocked from her view.

“What are the chances Thea is related to your dad?” Piper questions. “Like a sister, maybe?”

She shakes her head, “My dad only has brothers.”

“Huh…” Piper’s brows crease.

Annabeth gets the photos apart with relatively no damage. She turns them over in her hands, immediately her throat tightens and her mouth runs dry.

One of the pictures, though bad quality and taken decades ago, displays a young couple. A man has his arm tightly around a girl. He has floppy, tightly curled hair that desperately needs a cut. Wire glasses, the kind that were popular in the 80s, sit in his nose. The woman, who is much younger than Annabeth has ever seen her, has startling grey eyes as she smiles equally mysteriously at the camera. Her head is falling onto the man’s shoulders, a stack of books tucked under her arm. They’re posing in front of a brick building, a side beside them reads Harvard Hall in formal print.

Numbly, Annabeth inspects the other picture. It doesn’t take as much effort to connect the dots on this one. The black and white blur is the distinct, nearly indescribable image of a sonogram.

“Piper, what name is she under?” Annabeth asks in a shaky voice.

“Oh,” Piper stammers. Annabeth is impatient, she already knows the answer.

“Chase,” she confirms. “Thea Chase.”

Annabeth drops the pictures. Piper peers over the edge of the yearbook to look at them. She swallows hard.

“Does that mean?” She questions nervously.

“Yeah,” Annabeth nods. She’s no longer inspecting the photos, but she’s still staring at Thea’s lively eyes in the back of her mind.

“She’s my mother.”