Chapter 5
The bell echoed through the building, the harsh ring battering the ears of its occupants. In response, countless footsteps stampeded through the hallway as the students hurried to their cars or buses, taking up conversations on menial topics. Annabeth carefully slid her laptop into her backpack and joined the crushing flow of bodies toward the parking lot. As she departed from the crowd to take her shortcut through the cafeteria, Annabeth pulled her phone from her back pocket. No messages. She was meeting Emi for boba at a place a few minutes from the school, and apparently the plan was still intact.
Once she was in her car, she carefully navigated through the parking lot. Deviating from her usual routine, she turned right as she pulled away from the school. Annabeth guessed that she would arrive first. She knew Emi had precalc last hour, which was upstairs, so she would get to her car later than Annabeth had arrived at her own.
Annabeth slipped into a parking space and turned the key, switching the car off. She gathered her purse from inside her backpack and locked the car behind her before heading inside the boba shop. She’d been there countless times, whether just for a drink or for a meal, too, so Annabeth had a go-to order. Today, she would just be getting a drink.
She ordered her milk tea and took it to a table, picking one by the window. She checked her phone again for lack of something to do and gazed out the window, waiting for the flash of blue that would signal Emi’s car had entered the parking lot.
Emi finally arrived a few minutes later, bursting through the door in a rush of energy. She spotted Annabeth at her table and grinned widely before joining the end of the line to order. Annabeth shot a smile back at her. Emi then launched into communication using hand signals, pointing at the man who stood in front of her. The man stood with his back to her, although he probably wouldn’t have been able to decipher Emi’s messages even if he had been turned around. Annabeth certainly didn’t know what her friend was trying to say.
When Emi slid into the seat across from Annabeth a minute later, strawberry boba tea in hand, Annabeth was already laughing. “What exactly were you trying to tell me over there?”
Emi took a sip. Annabeth slid her straw out of its plastic wrap and punched it through the seal of her drink as Emi responded. “He smelled so awful!” she said with a giggle.
Annabeth shook her head, rolling her eyes fondly. “You’re too mean.”
“Just mean enough, actually.”
“So did you have any tests in school today?” Annabeth questioned, directing the conversation toward a new topic.
Emi sighed. “Precalc. And I forgot to study all weekend, so I’m not too excited for that grade to come in.”
Annabeth chewed a tapioca pearl and swallowed. “Who’s your teacher?”
“I have Mrs. Lloyd,” Emi answered.
Annabeth furrowed her brow. “I had her, she’s great!”
Emi leaned back, raising her eyebrows. “Yeah, I knew you were going to say that. Doesn’t mean I like math any more than I ever have.”
“Of course you hate it.” Annabeth found herself shaking her head again. “I’ll never understand why so many people say math is the worst.”
“Because it is!” Emi protested. She took a sip of her drink, a mischievous look on her face. “Although Percy seems to like it at least… anyway, we’re starting a new unit for the rest of the week and I think it’ll be better than this last one.” She rushed through the end of her sentence.
Annabeth nearly choked on a tapioca pearl. “Woah woah woah, back up. You don’t just get to drop”—she lowered her voice—“Percy’s name like that and move on.”
Emi smirked. “Huh, I didn’t realize that name had any significance for you,” she said innocently.
“Shut up,” Annabeth said, “and tell me why you were talking to Percy?”
Emi raised her hands in mock surrender. “I wasn’t talking to him,” she confessed. “He apparently has precalc right before me, so I saw him today. He was staying pretty late, doing his homework right up until the warning bell rang. And then he left for sixth hour.”
“So you didn’t say anything to him?” Annabeth demanded intensely, her drink forgotten.
Emi chuckled knowingly. “No, but it’s nice to know how easy it is to get you riled up over him.” She took a satisfied draw from her drink, swagger in every movement.
Annabeth scoffed, her mouth hanging open in shock. She was speechless. She couldn’t believe her friend had tricked her so easily.
Finally, she worked up the ability to speak. “So, I have to pick my brothers up from soccer practice at five,” she said.
“Ha!” said Emi. “I see you changing the subject. But okay, sure. Your brothers. Aren’t they in middle school now?”
Grateful for the reprieve from discussions of Percy Jackson, Annabeth jumped to continue nudging the conversation away from the boy. “Yeah, and more annoying than ever,” she answered. She remembered her drink and took a sip.
“Are they hoping to play soccer in high school?” Emi asked, humoring her.
“Oh yeah,” said Annabeth, “but I’ll be long gone by then.”
“They’re in sixth grade?”
“Yup, sixth,” Annabeth clarified. “And it’s a good thing they have soccer every day after school or I’d have to drive them home.”
Emi made a disgusted face, slurping on the end of her drink. “Yikes. Dodged a bullet there,” she commented.
“Truly,” Annabeth agreed, and took a long drink from her own tea.
Emi fidgeted with her empty cup. Her face lit up as she thought of another topic. “So how excited are you for the senior retreat?” she said, her own anticipation audible in her voice.
Annabeth swallowed her last sip. “That’s next Monday?”
Mouth falling open, Emi stared at her, appalled. “What do you mean, ‘That’s next Monday?’ You had to ask? One week from this second we’ll be doing camp activities!” She slammed both hands on the table, palms spread, expressing her distress.
“Okay, sorry,” Annabeth said, smiling at Emi’s passion. “And which camp activities would those be?”
Emi opened her mouth to answer but hesitated, brow furrowing and breath catching in her throat. She expelled the air, defeated. “I actually don’t know.” She regained her energy. “But I’m sure they’ll be fantastic!”
Annabeth set her empty cup on the table, chewing her last tapioca pearl. “I always get milk tea for a reason,” she noted, commending herself for her brilliant taste.
Emi, who always tried a different flavor each time, shook her head in a disappointed manner. “You should never shy away from a challenge,” she lectured.
Annabeth scoffed. “I will gladly be considered a coward if that’s what I am for not wanting to try cantaloupe tea with mango boba pearls,” she remarked, pushing back her chair.
Following her lead, Emi stood too. They made their way to the trash can as Emi responded that her fruit combinations were innovative and actually made her a “boba pioneer.”
They pushed open the door and stepped onto the sidewalk, forcing themselves to end the conversation. “See you tomorrow,” said Annabeth.
“See you!” Emi called as she walked to the right, her bright blue car reflecting the sun where it sat waiting. Annabeth unlocked her own car with the push of a button on her key fob. She slipped into her seat, locking the car and strapping on her seatbelt. Then she turned the key and, checking over her shoulder, shifted the car into reverse.
Annabeth shifted the car into park, settling in alongside the curb. Beyond the sidewalk to her right was the school’s practice turf, where she could see her brothers’ team huddled up with their coach, finishing practice. The high school and middle school shared both the practice and game turf, since they were on the same campus, only separated by a parking lot, the fields, and some landscaping. When Annabeth was in eighth grade, she had taken her first hour class at the high school, and she could still remember rushing to the middle school for second hour. On her fastest days with clear weather, she could make the walk in eight minutes.
The parking lot had been deserted whenever she made her daily trek, but now it was bustling with cars coming and going. As the middle school boys’ soccer practice wrapped up, the high school girls’ team began to arrive. Annabeth could already see a few girls warming up on the opposite side of the turf from her brothers, passing back and forth and taking shots at the goal. She had played soccer through middle school, but had stopped before high school since she wasn’t enjoying it anymore. Plus, she needed more time to focus on studying.
As Annabeth watched, another girl stepped onto the sidewalk and slipped through the gate in the fence surrounding the turf. Soccer ball under her arm and wild red curls wrangled into braids, Rachel Elizabeth Dare approached her teammates. Percy’s girlfriend was clearly charismatic; even from a distance, Annabeth could tell the girl’s teammates were glad to see her. But despite Rachel’s well-known likability, Annabeth felt a twinge of animosity toward her. She wasn’t sure why. Rachel had always seemed nice, at least from a distance.
The girls’ team continued warming up, even forming their own drills as more players trickled in. Annabeth could still remember running through routines at the start of each practice when she had been on the team. She could also remember playing with Percy at recess in fourth grade; the informal scrimmages they joined often ended up being more fun than actual games with her team.
~ flashback ~
“Percy!” Annabeth shouted, waving. “Wait up!”
The sun beat down on her as she sprinted across the dying grass, kicking dust up around her sneakers. Her braids bounced along her back as she ran, and she reminded herself to pull them back into a ponytail once she reached her destination.
Percy stood in the distance, hovering outside of a group of kids on the makeshift soccer field. Really, it was just an empty plain of struggling grass on the playground, set a bit further back from the slides and swings. A group of fourth graders, including Annabeth and Percy, gathered there to play soccer during each afternoon recess. Annabeth always spent the first recess playing tag, but the day’s second recess was reserved for soccer.
She approached the group, a little bit out of breath, just as everyone was dividing into teams. “We’ll take Annabeth,” said Percy quickly, recruiting her to his team before anyone else could. She went to stand by him and a growing accumulation of other kids. Annabeth sized up her team and the other and decided their chances were pretty solid.
“Okay,” said Michael Yew, a scrawny boy who Annabeth could tell was in charge for the day by the fact that he had the soccer ball under his arm. “Let’s do keep-away. We’ll start.”
Everybody spread out on the field. Annabeth and Percy walked away together, aiming for the trees on the other side.
“I’ve been practicing this one move,” Percy began, “and my footwork skills are about to shock everyone.”
Annabeth raised her eyebrows. “I’ll make sure to get the ball to you, then.”
They separated, heading in opposite directions along the tree line. Annabeth watched as the game began on the other end of the field. Michael passed the ball to another girl, who dribbled for a while and then passed back. Shouts filled the air as kids called for the ball. Michael’s team kicked it around the field; Annabeth’s team couldn’t seem to break up a pass.
Suddenly someone passed the ball to Connor, a boy who stood near Annabeth. He was tall, with curly black hair and a pointy nose. Annabeth pounced, defending him closely, and stuck her foot in the way when he tried to pass the ball back to where it had come from. The ball spun out into open space.
Annabeth and Connor each hesitated for a second as they registered the fact that the ball was completely free of their control. Then, at once, they launched forward and raced for it. Despite the boy’s longer legs, Annabeth reached the ball first. She tapped it in the other direction and dribbled away, looking around for someone to pass it to before Connor could catch up. Her head tilted toward the tree line, where Percy stood waiting, his blonde curls looking golden in the sunlight. Annabeth kicked the ball as hard as she could in his direction.
The soccer ball shot across the grass, bouncing over the uneven ground. The mounds of dirt failed to disturb the ball’s path, however, and it arrived right at Percy’s feet. He immediately sprung into action, dribbling toward the nearest member of the other team, to that boy’s shock. The normal move, of course, would be to direct the ball away from the opposing team. Annabeth watched from afar, glorious in her victory over Connor, who had by now jogged away, as Percy approached the other team.
She could hear kids shouting at him to pass the ball, worried he would turn it over, but Annabeth trusted him. Percy dribbled up to the other boy, Lee, so close he probably could’ve reached out and shoved him. Then, just as Lee stuck his leg out to steal the ball, Percy rolled his foot over the top, pulling it away. In the same fluid movement, he kicked his foot to the left behind him, sending the ball out to the side. He spun and ran after it, leaving Lee confused as to what had just happened.
Percy finally passed the ball away to another team member, and Annabeth jogged over to him. She raised her hand for a celebratory high-five as she approached.
“Thanks for the assist,” he said, meeting her palm for the high-five. Their hands collided with a slap that, to Annabeth, asserted their victory over the other players.
“Anytime,” she responded casually. Percy beamed at her. “I don’t care how the rest of the game goes,” Annabeth continued. “That was a victory in my book.”
Percy shrugged. “There’s technically no winning in keep-away anyway. So that can count as a victory for us, just me and you.”
The thought of their teamwork and a win for just the two of them made Annabeth really happy for some reason. She smiled at Percy as they stood on the field, their shorts revealing legs marked with bruises that were the consequence of childhood fun. Annabeth always wore boys’ athletic shorts; she found them more practical. But even with just her shins showing, there were plenty of dirt marks accompanying the bruises.
“That’s true,” she noted in response to Percy’s initial statement. “I mean, whoever has the ball when the whistle blows at the end of recess wins. But that just discounts the entire game leading up to that point.”
Nodding in agreement, Percy added to her statement. “Plus Michael somehow always seems to end up with the ball at the last second.”
“And if he doesn’t have it, he just extends the game until he does!”
“Crazy how that works out,” Percy agreed sarcastically.
They returned to the game, immersing themselves in the competition until the whistle blew, signaling the end of the game. Sure enough, Michael once again ended up with the soccer ball under his arm. Annabeth gave Percy a knowing look, which he returned with a grin he did a poor job of hiding.
The next day, as Annabeth hurried down the hallway to the pre-lunch recess, she heard someone calling her name from behind her. She paused and turned around, waiting for the person to catch up with her.
Percy emerged from the crowd, a smile on his face. “What do you do for first recess every day?” he asked her.
Annabeth continued her fast walk down the hall. Percy rushed to keep up with her. “I always play tag around the small playset with some of my friends,” she told him.
“Sounds fun, can I join?”
Annabeth stopped in her tracks once again, and this time it wasn’t because she was waiting for Percy. He halted when he realized she wasn’t walking anymore. “Why?” she asked him bluntly.
He tilted his head as if it was obvious. “I want to hang out with you.”
She examined his features. Percy’s eyebrows were raised in surprise at her confusion; his eyes sparkled inquisitively below them. His mouth was tilted up on one end in a crooked smile, waiting for Annabeth’s answer as if he’d asked the simplest question in the world.
“Okay,” she said after a pause. “Sure.”
Annabeth continued walking, slower now so Percy could keep up. “I usually play soccer during this recess too,” he explained, although she hadn’t asked.
“Second recess games are so much more fun though!”
“I know! They really are. It’s barely worth getting a game started with so few people on the field during first recess.”
Nodding in agreement, Annabeth pushed through the doors that opened onto the playground. “That’s why I don’t even bother,” she remarked. She held the door open behind her so Percy could follow her out. “It’s better to wait until all the classes are outside at once during second recess.”
They stepped off the pavement and onto the grass of the playground, trekking up a small hill. “Which playset did you say you play by?” Percy questioned again.
“The small one,” Annabeth responded, and led them to the right. She stepped onto the woodchips. Her sneakers kicked them into the air as she walked. “It’s never crowded.”
They approached the small playset, which only had one tiny slide and a set of monkey bars. The area around it was coated with woodchips in contrast to the surrounding ground, which was grassy. The woodchipped space was bordered by the brick wall of the school on one side, but other than that it was open to access from all sides. In one direction it extended to the rest of the upper grades’ playground, where Percy and Annabeth approached it from, and in the other direction there was a small fence marking the division to the lower grades’ playground. Clearly it wasn’t meant to stop anyone from venturing to the wrong side, though, because the fence was only one panel long and short enough to climb over. Students from the upper and lower grades sometimes mingled near it, but they never crossed too far into the wrong playground.
On the side of the woodchipped area opposite the wall was a small slope. During the winter, kids would slide down on their stomachs, creating a mini sledding hill. The top of the slope was where the makeshift soccer field was. Annabeth noted that it was pretty empty. She wondered if it was always like that and she just hadn’t noticed, or if it was especially deserted today because Percy was with her instead. A warm feeling spread inside her chest at the thought of Percy choosing to spend time with her over his other friends. She was so used to being cast aside as a second choice. It made her smile to think that she was first in Percy’s head, at least for today.
“So we play with different rules than normal tag,” Annabeth began to explain to Percy once they arrived at the monkey bars.
Percy stepped up to the bars and grabbed the first rung, hanging as he swung back and forth. “How different?”
“Not bad,” she said. “You’ll be able to keep up.”
Percy dropped to the ground, sending woodchips flying on impact. His mouth fell open in indignation. “I never said I wouldn’t!”
Annabeth laughed at his expression. “I’m just kidding, Seaweed Brain. And all we did was add an element to the game.”
“Well fill me in on your complicated addition, then, Wise Girl,” Percy retorted.
Smiling at the nickname, Annabeth strolled to the small section of fence at the edge of the area. She put her hand on it. “If the players being chased are touching this fence, they’re safe,” Annabeth explained. “But you can only stay on it for ten seconds at a time.”
Percy smirked and followed her over to the fence. “What if”—he put his hand on the rail—“you hold on for your ten seconds, and then you take your hand off for a moment but put it right back on.” He demonstrated the action. “Doesn’t that start a new ten seconds?” Percy fixed her with a smug look. Apparently he thought he’d outsmarted her.
“Not so fast,” Annabeth said, eager to shatter his illusion of triumph. “In our game, the players who aren’t ‘it’ have to run back and forth between the sides.” She gestured across the woodchipped area to the matching fence section on the other side. “So the moment you’ve used your full ten seconds, you have to run across. And that’s when the tagger gets you.”
Percy shook his head. “Gets you, you mean. I’m too fast.”
Annabeth scoffed. “In your dreams. I’m much faster than you.”
“Wanna race?”
“Yeah, but I don’t think you do.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Percy said, his face assuming an offended expression.
“It means,” said Annabeth, “that for your own good, you should back down right now.”
Percy started stretching exaggeratedly as if preparing for an official race. “I feel like you should know me well enough by now to know I never back down from a bad idea,” he quipped, holding his leg folded behind him to stretch his thigh.
Before Annabeth could respond, she noticed three figures approaching. “You’re so lucky they showed up just now,” she commented to Percy, and walked away from the fence, toward her friends. “Hey, guys,” she called to Silena, Nyssa, and Katie.
“What’s Percy Jackson doing here?” asked Katie, looking a little annoyed.
Annabeth wasn’t one hundred percent sure about that herself, but she answered with what she did know. “He wanted to play,” she said.
“Okay,” said Silena, “but he has to be ‘it’ first.”
Annabeth turned and glanced back at Percy. He had stopped his stretching and was now trying to figure out how to climb on top of the monkey bars. She turned back around to face her friends. “Deal.”
The four girls headed over to the fence. “Percy, you’re ‘it’ first,” Annabeth told him.
Percy shrugged. “I guess you are going to find out I’m faster than you, then,” he said, following them and waiting for one of them to let go of the rail. “In ten seconds.”
“Starting now,” said Nyssa. Silena immediately took off, surprising Percy, who didn’t have a chance to catch her by the time he realized she’d left. Nyssa took advantage of his surprise, running after Silena. Percy chased her for a second, but eventually gave up, too focused on tagging Annabeth to care about the others. Katie made a break for the other side of the playground, and he didn’t even flinch. Clearly he was after Annabeth.
She was trapped. The seconds were ticking away and Percy was guarding her closely, determined to prove himself. Thankfully, Annabeth had always been able to formulate a good plan. She stepped forward quickly as if she was making a run, but kept her hand on the fence. Percy lunged at the motion, and Annabeth saw her chance. She dodged him and sprinted around him on the other side, headed for the fence.
Annabeth could hear Percy close behind her, his sneakers pounding the woodchips as he dashed after her. She avoided glancing over her shoulder, focusing instead on her friends on the other fence. They were cheering her on. Annabeth looked down at her feet, willing them to move faster. She pushed herself as hard as she could, hands pumping at her sides. When she looked up again, the fence was right in front of her. Annabeth launched herself toward it with one last push, arms outstretched, and grabbed the metal. She was safe. And more importantly, she’d beaten Percy! He tapped her shoulder a second after she hit the fence, just a moment too late.
Gasping with the thrill of the chase, Annabeth turned to address him. “Told you,” she said.
“Okay, but I still caught up with you,” Percy pointed out, not willing to give up.
Annabeth shook her head. “Whatever, I still won.”
“That was fun,” Percy admitted. “We should get some more people to play.”
Before Annabeth could respond, he turned and shouted in the direction of the field. “Hey, guys, come and play tag with us!” The herd of kids who had been struggling to put together a game of football ambled over. Percy began enthusiastically explaining the rules of the modified game of tag to them.
As the now-larger group set off playing the game, more fourth graders trickled in. People who wondered what was going on over by the small playset or who were just bored joined their game. Eventually, they amassed a crowd that Annabeth thought could have contained the entire fourth grade.
Annabeth was dodging Grover Underwood, who was ‘it,’ when the bell finally rang to signal the end of recess. The fourth graders made their way inside, sweaty and chatting animatedly. Annabeth’s gaze danced from person to person, searching for the one she wanted to talk to.
She felt a tap on her shoulder, but when she turned her head, no one was there. Suddenly Percy appeared on her other side, laughing. “Got you!” he exclaimed, and joined her on the walk, matching her stride.
“Thanks for getting everyone to play,” Annabeth told him, ignoring his trick. “I can’t believe there were so many people!”
Percy beamed at her. “I thought it would make you happy to have more people in the game,” he said earnestly. “And plus, with so many players and only one being ‘it,’ it was more likely that we’d end up on the same team.”
Annabeth grinned with amusement. “You’re that scared of going against me, huh?”
Percy shrugged, conceding. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Annabeth.”
~ present day ~
“Annabeth, stop daydreaming!”
Her brother’s voice jolted her out of her thoughts. Annabeth whipped her head around to see her brothers at the car doors, dripping with sweat. They were each tugging on their door handle incessantly.
Annabeth quickly pressed the button to unlock the doors, and her brothers yanked them wide. They tossed their backpacks to the floor in the back and slid inside. “Buckle up,” she reminded them reflexively.
Once she heard the responding clicks of the seatbelts locking into place, Annabeth switched the car out of park and left the lot, driving slowly as more of the high school girls’ soccer team arrived for their practice. She pressed the button to turn the radio on, hoping for music to clear her mind as she made the short drive home.
By the time she pulled into the driveway, Annabeth had almost entirely forgotten her daydreaming. She put the car into park just as the song on the radio ended, giving her the satisfying feeling of perfect timing as she turned it off and got out of the car. She and her brothers entered the house and were greeted with the smell of dinner.
“Come sit down!” Annabeth heard her stepmother’s voice call to them.
“I’m too sweaty!” Matthew complained, removing his cleats and spilling turf pebbles all over the floor.
Bobby followed suit, brushing off the turf grass that was stuck on his legs. “Me too, I want to shower first!”
Annabeth exited the mudroom after taking her own shoes off without causing a mess. Her stepmom stood at the oven, her oven-mit-clad hands extracting a tray of breadcrumb-coated fish. “Grab some forks and napkins for the table,” she instructed Annabeth.
Bobby and Matthew hurried into the kitchen, trying to prove how dirty they were, but their mother wouldn’t relent. “Sit down so we can all eat together,” she told them, and they trudged into the dining room, dejected. Annabeth followed them in, placing a napkin and fork at each of the five spots on the table.
At that moment, Annabeth’s dad emerged from the stairwell to the basement. “Boys, Annabeth!” he said as a greeting, and filled himself a glass of water from the fridge. Annabeth’s stepmother carried in the tray of fish and set it on a hot pad.
The family that Annabeth never felt herself a part of settled in at the table. Since they were an odd number, she was the only one without someone sitting across from her. She was stuck on the end next to her dad; she felt like an afterthought.
“So, how was practice?” Mr. Chase asked his sons. They responded with a clamor, talking over each other to explain the drills they ran through and who won the scrimmage. Annabeth took a bite of fish, trying to tune it out.
“Do you ever miss soccer, Annabeth?”
Annabeth looked up from her plate, surprised at the question. She hesitated to answer, considering it.
“Do you wish you played a sport?” her dad prompted again, chewing a piece of his own fish.
Did she? Sometimes Annabeth missed the feeling of working with a team, moving the ball down the field together. But then, she’d always found it hard to play well with the other girls on the team. It was nothing like playing a sport with Percy.
~ flashback ~
Annabeth squeezed past Percy and plopped down into her seat next to the bus’s window. Percy was deeply engrossed in a conversation with the boy sitting across from them. He leaned into the aisle, ducking out of the way when somebody walked by but immediately moving back out again. Ethan, the boy sitting across the aisle, was just as engaged. They seemed to be debating something.
“—predicted they’d win, and that’s why I’m right!” Percy was saying with a flourish.
Ethan glared at Percy. “But they didn’t win, so you’re actually wrong.”
Percy cast a look at Annabeth as if to say “Can you believe this guy?” He turned back to face Ethan. “Well they won in spirit, so technically I’m right.”
“Technically, they scored less points, so the Bills won and so do I,” was Ethan’s response.
Another boy settled into the seat in front of Ethan’s and leaned in to join the conversation. “What are they talking about?” Malcolm asked Annabeth.
“They’re arguing about the Jets-Bills game,” she told him. “Percy thinks—“
“Percy knows,” said Percy, interrupting her.
Annabeth rolled her eyes affectionately, unable to keep a smile from creeping onto her face. “You’re ridiculous, Percy.”
Ethan sighed. “The Bills won, which I predicted, but Percy says the Jets won because of their spirit or whatever. He just doesn’t want to admit he lost. ‘Cause last week he said they’d win.”
Before Percy could butt in again, Malcolm spoke up. “I see only one way to solve this problem,” he announced. “With a game of human hockey!”
Just then, the bus lurched and squealed. It slowly began to move, driving out of the parking lot in a long line of identical vehicles. Percy pitched forward even further into the aisle, nearly falling out of his seat. Annabeth grabbed his sweatshirt, keeping him from sliding off.
“Where do you think you’re going, Seaweed Brain?” she said. “You’re not getting out of this now.”
Percy turned to her, indignant. “I wasn’t trying to escape! I just wasn’t in my seat enough.”
Annabeth raised her eyebrows. “I should’ve let you fall to the floor,” she declared.
“Shut up, you guys!” said Malcolm, annoyed. Ethan had a similarly disgruntled expression. “We’re playing human hockey. And I call being the puck!”
“There’s no room yet,” noted Ethan, “but I’m totally okay with you being the puck once more seats open up.”
Percy nodded. “I agree. And Ethan? You’re not even ready for these skills.”
Ethan attempted to kick Percy’s shins, but he missed. “Oh come on, I’ve played against you before, and I won.”
Annabeth piped up, leaning forward from behind Percy. “Oh, but I’m sure he won in spirit,” she teased.
“Hey!” protested Percy. “Whose side are you on here?”
The bus stopped, and this time Percy remained firmly in his seat. He pulled his legs out of the aisle, facing forward to allow other people to pass by and disembark the bus. “Sorry,” said Annabeth, leaning her head on the back of the seat in front of her. “I’m rooting for you.”
Percy leaned his head against the seat too, head turned toward Annabeth so they were facing each other. “I know,” he said. “You’re always on my side.”
The bus shook again, and Percy sat back. “The seat across from me is open now,” reported Malcolm, since the passenger who had been sitting there had just gotten off the bus.
“Game time!” shouted Percy. He leaned aside so Annabeth could slide by him and leave their seat. She made herself comfortable in the seat across from Malcolm, depositing her bag behind her.
“Okay, I’ll ref,” said Annabeth. “Get into your positions!”
As the bus trundled down the road, Percy and Ethan set up their backpacks leaning against the windows behind each of them. They both laid down in their respective seats, backpacks propping up their backs, and scrunched up their legs to keep them out of the aisle. “Ready,” Percy affirmed.
“Ready,” Ethan agreed.
Annabeth turned to Malcolm. “Okay, ready?” He nodded in response. “The game begins in three, two, one, go!”
At Annabeth’s word, Malcolm dove forward into the aisle between Percy and Ethan’s seats. Immediately they both kicked out their legs, each attempting to push Malcolm into the other’s seat. The referee had no real job in this game since it technically had no rules or defined end goal, so Annabeth sat back to watch, silently cheering for Percy. His features were scrunched in concentration, sandy blonde hair falling across his face but still failing to cover the glimmer in his ocean-blue eyes.
“Go Percy!” Annabeth exclaimed as Percy delivered a well-aimed kick that sent Malcolm falling into the space between Ethan’s seat and the one in front of it. This constituted a goal. Malcolm stood from the floor, grinning with exhilaration despite the fact that he was being shoved around, or maybe because of it.
Ethan sat up, looking offended. “Hey, no teams! That’s not fair! That’s like paying the refs.”
Percy and Annabeth shared a look. Percy sat up himself, leaning forward to high-five Annabeth.
“Another round?” Percy offered Ethan.
The boys settled back into their positions. Annabeth found herself thinking that watching human hockey was quickly becoming her new favorite sport.
~ present day ~
Annabeth turned to her dad. “I don’t really miss the sport,” she answered finally. “I guess I just miss being on a team. It’s nice to have someone to rely on. Someone to high-five when you score.”
“But you’re not scoring if you’re not playing a sport,” Matthew piped up, oblivious to the less literal meaning of her statement. Annabeth looked to her dad for his response.
“Well, I’m glad we don’t pay for you to play soccer anymore, then,” he said.
Annabeth looked down at her plate, disappointed. “Yeah,” she said halfheartedly. “Good thing.”
She finished her dinner quickly and asked to be excused to work on some assignments. Once she was in her room, Annabeth reached into her backpack for her architecture homework. It always calmed her to design buildings and calculate dimensions, imagining it being her job someday. The current assignment was to sketch blueprints for a home. All Annabeth knew was that it was going to look nothing like her house.
As she penciled in the shape of a window, she remembered how she once drew on windows, rather than drawing them herself.
~ flashback ~
The bus was late. Annabeth shivered, jamming her hands deeper into the pockets of her coat. Snowflakes fell on her hair, dampening it. She shifted her feet, stamping down the snow where she stood.
Annabeth had been waiting at the corner of her street for the past 10 minutes, feeling like she was slowly turning into a statue of ice. The other girl who was usually at the bus stop with her had apparently been driven to school today or just decided not to go, because Annabeth was alone. She couldn’t feel her fingers, and now her toes were starting to go numb too.
Finally the bus’s headlights appeared through the trees down the road, cutting through the dim early morning light. The headlights brightened as the bus drove closer until it came to a halt several feet in front of Annabeth. She started to walk toward the doors as they swung open, granting her access to the warmth inside. Annabeth trekked up the stairs, bid a “Good morning” to the bus driver through her chattering teeth, and took her spot near the back. The bus jerked and shuttered and they were off, headed in the direction of Percy’s stop.
A few pick-ups later, Percy boarded the bus, making his way to Annabeth. He sat down next to her and dumped his backpack on the floor at his feet, despite the fact that the bus was emptier than normal and there were plenty of seats he could’ve chosen instead.
“Good morning,” said Percy, still shivering.
Annabeth was grateful for the bus’s heaters. “Hi. Cold?” she asked sarcastically.
Percy smiled, rubbing his arms to warm up. “Oh, just a little,” he said, matching her tone.
They chatted as Percy defrosted in the warmth of the bus. Then Annabeth pointed out another benefit of the bus being heated when she began tracing shapes with her finger in the frost and condensation that clung to the window.
“A smiley face!” exclaimed Percy when he saw what she drew. He leaned over her shoulder and traced his own smiley on the glass.
“They’re friends,” suggested Annabeth about the drawings.
“They’re us,” Percy said with a crooked smile. His face hovered close to Annabeth’s in the dim light. The headlights from a passing car briefly reflected a spark in his deep blue eyes. For a moment it felt like they were the only two people on the bus.
The moment passed. Percy clambered out of the seat and into the one in front of it. He kneeled on the seat and raised himself up so he could reach the upper window. “What are you doing?” Annabeth queried.
Percy traced his finger in shapes on the condensation. “Decorating,” he said simply, covering the glass with stars.
Annabeth tucked her knees under herself and sat up tall to reach the top window for her seat, too. She joined Percy in drawing stars until the windows were full.
Later that morning, as they hopped off the bus steps and onto the sidewalk in front of the school, Annabeth and Percy hovered near the bus for a minute. They walked along the side, looking for their windows.
“I think we were three seats back from the emergency exit,” Annabeth said, pointing at the windows as she counted.
“There! I see them!” Percy shouted excitedly, earning a few odd glances from the other kids walking toward the school. Annabeth peered closer at where his outstretched arm was pointing. Sure enough, there were a group of windows spattered with stars. “I feel like a serious artist now,” joked Percy as he turned to go. “Come on, Annabeth.”
Annabeth hesitated for a moment before following him, her gaze lingering on their first sketches. As she headed into the school, leaving the bus behind, she thought about how sad it was that the drawings, even the smiley faces, would be gone once the outside air warmed up in the afternoon.
~ present day ~
Annabeth continued to work on her architecture assignment, but her mind was elsewhere. She shifted in her seat as she drew, adding a door to her house, but her gaze kept drifting back to the windows.
She couldn’t stop wondering about those smiley faces. Annabeth had never watched condensation disappear. Did it happen gradually, over the course of a day? Or did the smiley faces disappear from the window in an instant, just as Percy had disappeared from her life?
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