Haha, hey, so, I know I said that the last story I posted (Beachy Keen, go check it out!) was my last, but I wrote a lot of stories that aren't half bad over the summer, so here's another! Enjoy!

The ground is cold and hard beneath me.

My damp eyelashes graze the apples of my cheeks.

A piece of pasta hangs from my hair, and I flick at the person nearest to me as I sit up.

With a deep breath, I stand with my dignity and a contradictory tear fall. An anxious silence blankets the room.

"You," my accusatory finger finds no specific persecutor, "are all sick people.

I turn and storm out of the door.

I clutch the steering wheel with such vigor, my knuckles pale. A frustrated sob racks my body. Complete cowards, idiots and all other insulting and vulgar insults they were. That video was to never see the light of day.

The passenger door opens, and a familiar figure gets into the car.

"Annabeth..."

I sit up, blowing a piece of hair out of my face.

"I know, Thalia," I say.

Her sharp face softens into an apology.

"Beth, you know problems don't fix themselves."

I hesitate when my vision blurs with tears. I quickly wipe them away with my sleeve.

A comforting hand rests on my shoulder. Thalia has never been and never could be the most affectionate person, but you knew when she cared. A few moments of silence pass between us.

"You wanna get something to eat?."

I put the car into reverse. "Sure."

We pull up into the desolate parking lot of a new diner down the road, my eyes puffy. A breeze flows through the air and a pleasant smell fills my nose. My stomach growls.

"Sally's" reads the sign on the front door. The place is deserted at midnight, but the food on the table are the remnants of a hectic day.

At the griddle stands an older woman in a sweater and a ponytail. Her eyes are focused on an invisible point, her mind clouded.

"Um, excuse me," I say.

The lady, startled, turns towards me.

"Oh, didn't see you there, dear," she says. "My mind seems to be in a different place tonight." She grabs a notepad off of the counter. "What could I get you?"

A warm smile turned towards the both of us.

"Oh, I hope we didn't bother you," I say as Thalia rolls her eyes.

She waves a silencing hand at us.

"Never mind that, if you're hungry, eat. Now, what can I get you?"

We order our food and sit down at one of the booths. I pull out my phone, checking ever-increasing amounts text messages.

"Everybody already knows, Thals. I don't know what I did to deserve this."

"You didn't deserve it, they just can't stand a girl who isn't afraid to bite back."

I huff and cross my arms, and I immediately drawback when I remember the still damp marinara stain across my chest. Tears enter my line of vision again. I turn to stare out of the window, not wanting Thalia to see me cry again. I had to be strong, for her.

The clouds block the moonlight. It looks like it'll rain soon, the weather mimicking my nature. I glance at the person sleeping on a bench across the road. Perhaps some good samaritan will warn him of the impending storm.

The waiter approaches and sets our food on the table.

Suddenly, my tongue catches in my throat.

He's a tall, sharp boy, no more than 18. His hair is ravenous in behavior and hue, his eyes as green and stormy and bright as the Atlantic Ocean, his skin tanned golden by the beachy sun and a small splattering of freckles just to prove it. He stooped as if he always walked through too short doorways, and I couldn't help but notice a faint muscular outline under his too tight shirt.

My puffy eyes and mangled hair did not better the situation.

His lips move, but no sound comes out.

I shake out of my trance.

"Ah, what'd you say?"

He raises an eyebrow.

"Would that be all?"

I flush. "Er, yeah," I glance towards his name tag, "Percy."

I give him a small smile.

I notice him look towards the large stain on my sweater with a question in his eyes, and I subconsciously move my arms across my chest.

Thalia looked at me with a smirk, but she didn't wait until he's out of earshot when she said: "Hot, isn't he?"

He chuckles as he turned back into the kitchen.

"Thalia!"

She snorted with her mouth full as she rolled her eyes. "Well, with the way you were staring..."

My face flushed once again. "Shut up."

We finished our meal as the kind lady behind the bar brings our check, and I offer her a kind smile.

"Did you ladies enjoy your meal?"

We both nodded our heads eagerly.

"Everything is great, thank you so much, Miss..."

I search for a name tag.

"It's Miss Jackson, but you can call me Sally, dear."

Hence the namesake.

She smiles that warm smile again before a look of concern passed across her face.

"Oh dear, that's quite a stain you got on your sweater. Let me see if I have something in the back."

"It's fine...", but she's off before I could get a word out.

"She's such a mom," said Thalia as she reached for her wallet. I pulled a few dollars out of my purse as a tip.

Sally comes back, this time with an item of clothing in her hands. She gives it to me.

"This is my son Percy's, but I'm sure he won't miss it."

My ears unwillingly perk up when I hear his name.

"Thank you," I say as I pull the sweatshirt over my head.

She stops me.

"Oh no, no, dear, you go take off the sweater, and I'll wash it for you. You can come pick it up tomorrow."

"Oh, you don't have to, really..."

"None of that, it's the least I could do. I guess it's the mother in me."

I look towards Thalia, and she shrugs.

I excuse myself from the table and try to locate the bathroom. I do so unsuccessfully.

It just so happens that Percy walks out of the back room, this time carrying a backpack, a baseball cap adorning his head.

I have to work up nearly all of my diminished courage to ask him where the bathroom was. How pathetic.

"It's right there when you turn past that fake cactus. And if it isn't too much to ask," he points at the piece of clothing in my arms, "why do you have my sweatshirt?"

My face goes hot. "Er, your mom gave it to me to cover up," I gesture loosely at my torso, "this."

His lingering eyes follow my gestures.

"How did," he mimics my hand gestures, "that even happen?"

I waver for a moment, but I find myself spilling my guts and not stopping.

A simple 'I tripped" would've sufficed.

But no.

"Well, my friend, Thalia, and I show up at this party some kid at our school invited everyone to. We get there and..." I slide down the wall I'm leaning against and hug my knees towards my chest.

"Everything was fine at first, actually. Had a drink or two, awkward mingling. Then we heard a commotion over on the other side of the room, and someone is projecting a video. The video just so happened to be my audition tape for Stablegrove School of Performing Arts I did when I was 14. It also just so happened to be the worst performance in my dance career."

I found Percy sitting next to me.

"What made it the worst?

Though I am reluctant to admit, I enjoyed the attention, though I wasn't sure if it was just his attention that made it enjoyable.

"I completely face planted in the middle of the stage, and I ran away crying. I still don't know how they got the video but yeah. I basically ended up cursing everyone out, and when I turn to go, someone sticks out their leg and I trip and fall into a plate of spaghetti."

We sit in silence for a moment, and I turn to look at his face. He scrunches his eyebrows and pouts his lips.

"And now we're here."

A moment of silence.

"You know, when I woke up this morning, I never thought I'd end up here, talking to a beautiful stranger covered in spaghetti going home in nothing but my sweatshirt." He winks at me.

I don't think I could've turned any redder.

"Well, if you wanna think of it like that… I never thought I'd be here either."

"What's your name?"

I'm not sure why this took me by surprise.

"Annabeth. Annabeth Chase."

He turns his body towards me.

"It's nice to meet you, Annabeth Chase."

"Likewise," I say as I stand up. Percy follows my lead.

"I should probably get going now."

Percy, who seemed to be in some sort of trance, shook out if it as he said, "Er, yeah, same."

I turn to walk away before he calls out, "Hey, what school do you go to?"

My head turns to look over my shoulder. "Goode Academy. Why?"

A big, lopsided grin spreads across his face.

"I start Monday."

I find myself smiling too.

"See you there."

As I pull out of the parking lot, I see a dark figure go over the man on the bench and gently shake him awake

Let me tell you how hard it is to go home with nothing but a bra, an oversized-slip-off-your-shoulder sweatshirt and a ruined pair of jeans.

I'm nearly home free and into my room when I heard: "Where'd you get that sweater from?"

My dad sits in his Lay Z Boy recliner with a book in his hand and glasses perched on his nose.

"It's Thalia's."

He'd kill me if he found out it belonged to a random boy he'd probably accuse me of having sex with.

He eyes me suspiciously.

"Why are you wearing Thalia's sweater?"

"I spilled something on mine."

I rub my arm sheepishly.

"Hm. Where is your sweater?"

"Um, at Thalia's house?"

He takes his glasses off and wipes them off on his shirt.

"Well," I put his glasses back on and lets out a breath, resting his hands on his stomach, "you better head off to bed."

My sigh of relief is very evident as I hurry to my room before he can ask any more questions. I collapse on my bed and take a deep breath.

The sweatshirt smells like...Warmth, if that makes sense. Not like the heat type of warmth, but a comfortable, warmth of a hug.

I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My hair's a mess, my face is blotchy.

Beautiful stranger my ass.

So yeah. It's kinda short and every paragraph is like, one line, but it's the style I decided to write this story in. Review if you want, and don't be surprised if more stories pop up because I have a lot of unfinished ones.