A/N: Not entirely sure how I feel about this, but I uploaded it anyways.

The rating for this is sort of weird, because they have a heavy make-out session but nothing really happens. It should be T, but it fits the K+ stuff, so I'm just going to go with that. Does anyone object?

This is an entry to the songfic contest (although this won't be nominated because I'm a judge, duh) by The Prompts - CrushCrushCrush. More songfics will be added soon (whether it is an addition to this story or a different one - I do not know).

I decided to be super geek with the title and translate it into latin, because, hey, every title sounds good in latin.

Disclaimer: Percy, Annabeth, and Rachel belong to Rick Riordan.


Nothing compares to a quiet evening alone
Just the one, two I was just counting on
That never happens
I guess I'm dreaming again
Let's be more than this

~ CrushCrushCrush- Paramore


You had the whole afternoon planned as you set out to meet him at Goode High School.

When he finishes orientation, he will come out to meet you, and you will exchange a quick handshake (although a hug would be nice too). He'll say something like, "It's good to see you, Wise Girl." And you'll reply with a brief, "You too, Seaweed Brain" and a grin. He'll grin back – that's the polite thing to do – and you'll remember that never-changing smile (the crooked one, with his teeth flashing, and pink lips pulled back, which makes your heart flutter). Then you'll start walking, dreading the awkward moment when he is unsure of what to do until he follows you, but it never comes. He'll gesture to the main street and you'll walk together (maybe he'll hold your hand, but he doesn't have to) to get a cab.

In the taxi you'll sit together in the back, chatting about your family. When you rant about all the misunderstandings, all the issues, he'll nod with sympathy; his eyes (a bright, sea green that makes you feel like you belong) will be uncertain, though, as he grew up with a mother that loved him. You'll change the subject when it gets too far into your own problems, and both of you will sit in an awkward silence for a few minutes before he says that he's missed camp. And you say you missed it too (you kind of missed him more than camp), and you'll recall all the memories from the winter.

He always becomes guarded when you talk about the winter. A tough nut to crack, you think. You know there's something he's not telling you, and you're sure that something (you sort of don't want it to have to do with another girl, but it doesn't matter if it does) happened. You'll probably try to get it out of him, but he's closed in on you, and you'll feel like you've violated plaintive territory. He'll just tell you that the quest wasn't the same without you, and instead of acknowledging the fact that he's looking at you that way (not that you care that much - not that it triggers anything in you) you make a comment about him being "such a Seaweed Brain", and tease him for it.

You will arrive at the theatres twenty minutes before the movie is supposed to start, and he will try to buy you the ticket, too (you might be thrilled that he's so gentlemanly, but anyone would be, really) but you'll refuse to let him, because you've been raised independently and as a feminist, and you really shouldn't let him spend his money on you. So you both settle for a half each (you almost giggle at the irony that both your halves make a whole – just like you too, but as friends). He will still insist on paying for popcorn, and because you barely have any change left over and he has none, you get one water bottle. You'll share, but neither of you will be brave enough to open the water bottle and drink first. (Maybe you want him to drink first so that you can drink after him, blushing at how your lips touched something that his did.)

You'll sit down together in the middle of the theatre (you're not disappointed at all that he won't choose a more private section at the top seats, where no one will notice you together) and you'll glance at your wristwatch and complain how you arrived too soon. He'll make fun of your over-thinking of things, and you'll make a comment about how such a Seaweed Brain like him would have made them late. He will agree, because there really isn't any denying it, and you'll feel pleased (and it's not because he's complimenting you to no end and you wish you were as perfect as he makes you out to be – not unlike he is).

You'll be lost in your own thoughts (and you won't be thinking of him at all) when the movie starts, and he'll have to nudge your elbow. When you wake out of your reverie, you'll see him grinning at you, and you'll smile sheepishly (maybe blushing, but that's not because of his smile, it's because you were daydreaming. And you weren't daydreaming about him, no) and apologize quietly.

During the movie, you'll both make many comments about how the fight scenes look so fake, and how the actors can't even act. He'll try to imitate their faces and mutter the movie's lines under his breath, and you'll giggle uncontrollably. Soon, you will be laughing so hard there's a pressure in your stomach and tears will be streaming down your face. You'll be sure that you look particularly nasty, what with your cheeks red and eyes puffy, but you won't care (even though you want to look pretty for him, but it's fine if you aren't).

He won't be laughing so hard, of course, but he'll be smiling at you (a more recently developed smile that's curiously delightful to watch grow on his face) and that will make you smile back at him. Suddenly, the movie's sounds will become so dim – like a moth's wings brushing against each other – and he'll lean in slightly (you think you'll move in first, but you're not sure) and close his eyes. You'll feel his lips on yours for a moment, and you'll both pull back, startled (if he wants to kiss you again, it will be fine, you probably won't object).

The movie will be over before you know it, and you'll walk out hand in hand. You'll get a taxi to his apartment, but the ride won't be as uncomfortable because something will have clicked by then – a sense of harmony between you. Your heads are still entwined by the time you get to the apartment, and you delight in the lack of surprise on his mother's face when his arm falls around your shoulder and you peck his cheek (just because you can, and just because you know he wants you to).

In his room, you help him pack for camp because, being such a Seaweed Brain, he always forgets something important. After you've shut the suitcase, he'll look at you smugly and you'll be suspicious for the moment you can actually think before his lips are on yours and can hardly tell if you're still standing on the blue carpet or lying on his bed. He'll keep kissing you until your memory is hazy and all you really care about is the fact that he's touching you somehow – hand, shoulder, lips.

You'll forget that his mother is in the apartment and the door is ajar until she'll yell for him to pack his toothbrush. He undoes your arms (you didn't notice they were around his neck in a choke hold), gets out of the bed (you didn't notice he was lying on top of you), and pulls his shirt back on (you didn't notice his shirt was off, either, until the smooth skin of his back rubs against your arm).

His mother will bid you goodbye outside the apartment because she'll have to go to night school (you feel bad you're happy she won't come with you – more kissing in the backseat of the car). His mom will hug him tightly; a tear or two will trickle down her face. After she'll kiss his forehead, she'll embrace you, and when you're in the car with your head on his shoulder, you'll see three wet drops on his shirt (you'll feel a little bad about delighting in riding alone with him, but you've never known that that's how real parents love their children. It's one of the only things you'll never really know).

But, like Chiron always said (and probably will always say), nothing is ever for sure. Your reality and dreams have never been the same - your dreams never come true. Your perfect plan for the evening, of course, was moot.

When he finishes orientation, he comes out to meet you. He almost runs into you, barely giving you a second glance (it's alright, it doesn't matter, you would have noticed him before all the rest), but you catch his shoulders and laugh. It's nervous laughing, breathless (like in your plan; the laughing as you kiss again and again) but he doesn't seem to notice.

There's a redheaded girl trailing behind him, and you notice with fuming anger that she's quite pretty (prettier than you are, anyways). When she writes her phone number on his forearm (in sharpie, nonetheless) you see red. You're on your edge when he defends her side, and you've completely lost it when he mentions seeing her last winter (he was supposed to be looking for you).

The ride to camp is silent. He used your cell phone to let his mother know he is alright, and that setting the school on fire wasn't a planned event at all. You almost laugh at the fact that he's managed to do that, but you hold yourself back, furious for a reason you don't know (jealousy, your subconscious whispers).

You could have had it all - you could have won him over, but that redhead ruined it all (he ruined it all, too). He could have been yours in one afternoon - you could have been his.

(You subconsciously know that you only could have been his in your dreams.)


I think it sucks, but whatever you guys think will decide.

I guess there's just one way to find out if it's good or not -

REVIEW!

RAB