hey all! so this one-shot marks the start of a new era of writing, lol. almost everything below this is reminiscent of a different time, a time before i had learned how to write well. from here on out, my stories will reflect the "me" from now!

this one-shot is based off an idea tiffc10 gave me in a review for "one crazy birthday party", which, incidentally, is a terrible story. don't read it.

thanks also to rebecca (rainforestgirl on wattpad and seeingghosts on ao3 - check out her stuff!) for reading this over and giving me this astute advice when asked what to fix: "i think you should do nothing, because it's perfect." thanks darling.

you lovelies are saints for sitting through this horribly long a/n!

disclaimer: i do not own percy jackson & the olympians but i am very grateful that rick riordan lets me play around with some of the characters.

now playing: livin' on a prayer - bon jovi (album: slippery when wet)

"Fuck."

Under normal circumstances, Annabeth doesn't use this kind of language. She feels that cursing would portray a detrimental image of her as someone who hasn't memorized the SAT words from the past ten years. But given this kind of situation, there is truly no way to describe it, even with every SAT word in her arsenal, except-

"Fucking hell!"

She kicks her car, hoping that maybe, just maybe, that might work. As if her extensive knowledge of cars hasn't already been put to use and failed. Miserably.

The only thing she can think of to do now is to call AAA. Or maybe running to school would be easier. But by that time she'd have missed half of the exam. There is literally no way out of this.

She sighs, moans, groans, slumps against her car door, and pulls out her phone to check the time. It is nearly 7. The exam starts at 7:30. What is she going to do? She has no idea.

She kicks the car once more, in vain, hoping that something will happen. Sparks. A sputter. The collapse of the entire car. A fire. Anything.

(Of course, she has gathered enough data to sufficiently come to the conclusion that her alternator has burned out, and there is nothing she can do about it.)

To her extreme surprise, she hears the sound of an engine starting. She stares at her car in wonder. Could it be? The magic of her touch has resurrected a dead automobile?

But no. It is nothing so astonishing as that. It is simply the sound of another vehicle. She sighs as she prepares for it to pass her by… and is again surprised as the sound abruptly stops. She turns around and sees a familiar old, blue, run-down Chevy.

"Need a ride?" calls the driver. It's none other than Percy Jackson. Under normal circumstances, Annabeth would never accept a ride from Percy. But given this kind of situation, there is simply nothing else she can do. She rushes over to the car, pulls open the passenger seat, and dumps her bag down.

As she closes the door, she mutters, grudgingly, "Thank you."

"What?" teases Percy, his eyes sparkling with mirth. "I didn't quite catch that."

"You heard it," she says. "I'm not repeating it. Start the car."

He grins but obeys. "I believe I just heard Annabeth Chase apologize to me."

"Call the press."

"I just might." Percy looks over at her. "You look anxious."

"We're going to be late. Can you step on it?" she says, rapidly tapping her fingers on her thigh.

"It's seven. The exam starts at seven thirty. Chill."

"I'm not taking any chances!" Her voice has become progressively higher in pitch and her eyes have widened.

"Okay, let's make a bet."

"A bet? I am not betting on my GPA!"

He barrels on, ignoring her. "If we're late, you can beat me up."

"I'm listening," says Annabeth. Not that she wouldn't have been able to beat him up anyway.

"If we're not, you have to go out with me."

"Oka-wait, what?" She is taken aback, to say the least. "I was not aware that I was the subject of your romantic interest. In fact, I was under the impression that you were dating one Rachel Dare."

"God, Annabeth, can't you use normal people words?" Percy is still grinning that infuriating grin at her. "Me… stupider… than… you."

"'Stupider' is not a word," she corrects automatically. Percy raises an eyebrow at her, and she lets out an involuntary laugh and looks down at her jean-clad legs. "Okay, sorry. Um… I thought you were going out with Rachel?" She looks up at him hopefully, with an expression that means do-I-sound-normal-now?

"Rachel's not interested," he says. "In anyone. Anytime. Ever." Annabeth can tell that he's searching for the word asexual, so she volunteers it, and he takes his hands off the steering wheel to point at her. "Yes! That."

"Hands on the wheel!" she squeaks, and he laughs, like it is funny that motor vehicle fatality is the leading cause of death to teenagers. She vocalizes this danger, and he merely responds with, "You worry too much, Annie."

"If you ever call me Annie again, I will strangle you with your own intestines."

"Whoa," he says, and Annabeth is caught off guard by the realization that Percy's eyes are really very pretty. "Intense."

"Hmm," is all she can say to this. They sit in silence for a minute or so, before she realizes that the car has stopped.

"Wait," she says. "We're here."

"Indeed," he says, with a way too smug look on his face.

"It's seven fifteen."

"Yep." He pops the 'p', even though he knows it annoys her.

"We're not late! I could kiss you!" she exclaims. And then realizes what she said. "But… I won't… because that would… be… bye!" She hops out of the car quickly and runs toward the school building. Under normal circumstances, she is never this flustered. But given this kind of situation, well - what would any other hormonal eighteen-year-old girl do?

After the exam is over, she walks out, relieved. She was worried she wouldn't know every question on the test, but she can rest assured now: she did. She is about to walk to her car when she remembers that it's not at the school. Right on time, Percy strolls out of the school and comes right up to her.

Wordlessly, she lets him lead her to his car. He drives her home and neither of them say anything until she's about to get out. She suddenly remembers the huge fight she had with her dad just this morning.

"Actually," she says, turning to him and placing her hand on his, on top of the gear shift, "can I… not?"

And the way he smiles at her and understands makes her remember all the years of summer camp and daisy chains and middle school friendship before high school, before she was labeled as a "nerd" and he fell in with the "jocks" after they discovered his amazing swimming talent.

"So how about that date, huh?" he says, and she smiles, too, and agrees, and reflects on the fact that this might be the longest, most dysfunctional relationship she's ever had - and definitely the most important.

now playing: problem - ariana grande ft. iggy azalea (album: problem)

hope you enjoyed! drop a review if you will. xx