I don't own Percy Jackson and the Olympians...or Facebook. Wish I did though, I'd be filthy rich.
Percy didn't know why he agreed to go over to Kyle's house that day. Perhaps it was to relieve some of the stress from preparing for the Titan War and this so called "Great Prophecy". Perhaps it was Rachel's constant reminder that he had basically no friends outside the godly world. Or perhaps it was just Percy being a dangerously bored ADHD demigod, but whatever the reason, Percy was now eating a finger sandwich handed to him on a platter by Mrs. Smithson herself.
"Thanks Mrs. Smithson," Percy said politely.
"Oh call me Joanne dear," she insisted, "Mrs. Smithson makes me sound so old." Percy nodded slowly, not understanding why women cared so much about their age. Shouldn't they be happier when they get older? Getting wiser and all that jazz? Needless to say, Percy was relieved when Kyle and his clumsy self tripped over his backpack, and interruppted Percy's not-at-all-awkward conversation with Mrs. Smithson about how Jaden Smith was the cutest thing since fluffy bunnies.
"Hey mom," he said, grabbing one of the bite size sandwiches that would hardly satisfy a termite, "me and Percy are going to hang for a bit. Don't come up 'kay?"
"Alright honey," she replied, looking up from her phone, "You dears have fun!"
"Yeah sure, whatever," he mumbled, "C'mon Percy." Percy nodded, and grabbed his bag, rushing to get away from Kyle's mother. Once upstairs, Kyle plopped onto his bed , flipped open his laptop, and booted it up. Percy took in his room. Posters from various alternative rock bands lined the ceiling, walls, and doors. His closet was filled with messily folded hoodies and ripped jeans. Percy figured he was the guy version of Thalia...except clumsier and not in a group of boys that hunt monsters that want to destroy Western Civilization. Or a demigod. Nor does he wear a shiny tiara on that messy mop of brown hair. What was he thinking about? Stupid ADHD.
"Cool room," Percy commented, fingering a figurine of a guitar sticking out of a drum set. Kyle didn't reply, instead staring intently on the computer screen. Percy cocked his head. "What are you doing?"
"Oh, I'm just browsing my wall," he replied, looking up for a second before returning to scanning his screen.
"Wall?" Percy asked, curious. Who would want to look at a wall?
"You know," said Kyle, "Facebook."
"Oh right, Facebook," Percy said, scraching the back of his neck. "I knew that." Kyle raised his eyebrows curiously at the boy.
"You don't have a Facebook," he said. It wasn't a question.
"Err, no, I don't," blushed Percy, embarrassed at the fact. But give him a break, the average demigod wouldn't exactly want to create a Facebook account, let alone one that was supposed to have his soul reaped on his sixteenth birthday. Imagine the Minotaur surfing the web one day, and stumbling upon a status from him that said "At the Olive Garden!" Percy shuddered. A bull man in Fruit of the Loom underwear throwing unlimited breadsticks at him -absolutely terrifying.
"Well," Kyle grinned, "let's get you one."
"I don't think-" Percy started, but Kyle interrupted him.
"C'mon Percy, it's either this or Geometry homework," he reasoned. That did it.
"Alright, what do I do?"
Ten minutes later, Percy had a new e-mail, a new Youtube, and an account to a little thing called Facebook. Percy was seriously high strung. It was bad enough that he had agreed to this whole thing. Now, Kyle insisted that he add people he barely knew as friends.
"So do I have to add these people?"
"Perce, it's called social media for a reason."
"So I just add random strangers."
"Well no."
"Then what the heck was the point of this?!" Percy was seriously confused, almost as much as when Annabeth kissed him during their last quest.
"Just type in your friend's name in that box, and see if they have an account," Kyle patiently explained. Percy sighed, and cautiously pressed the R key. The image of the Minotaur once again popped into his head, but Percy shook it off, typed in "Rachel Elizabeth Dare", and poked the enter key. Percy looked at the screen in shock. Who knew there was seventeen thoudand five hundred and sixty-three Rachels on the site. Kyle patted Percy on the back.
"Have fun with that, I'm getting a Coke. Want one?" Numbly, Percy nodded.
Percy spent the next hour perched on the edge of Kyle's bed, sifting through all the Connors, Travises, Charles, Silenas, and Grovers he could find. Surprisingly, over half the camp had an account. Percy even managed to conjure up six Chirons, one Zeus, and a HadesistheHottestGodEver. Percy didn't click on any of those, but made a note to bring that up at the next Olympian meeting -assuming he lived that long. On a sudden whim, Percy typed "Annabeth Chase" into the search box.
After skimming through the Annabelles and the Chases, Percy found her. His eyebrows rose in shock. Annabeth, daughter of Athena, had a Facebook? Percy quickly clicked on her name, and browsed through the information that all pointed to one thing. Annabeth Chase had a Facebook. He grinned, and after debating for a moment, decided to send her a message.
"So Wise Girl has a Facebook?"
It didn't reveal anything about him or Annabeth just in case it was some creepy old guy sitting on the other side, but it was enough for Annabeth to know it was actually him. Percy stared expectantly at his notifications, as if physically willing a reply from her. Apparently, it worked, because a little red one popped up next to the tiny globe. Annabeth Chase has sent you a friend request. Accept. Decline. Percy quickly clicked accept, and opened up a chat with her.
"So Wise Girl, why do you have a Facebook?"
When Kyle came back up half an hour later, he found Percy grinning crazily at the screen. Needless to say, Iris lost a lot of buisness that year.
I don't remember Annabeth's relationship with Percy after the Labyrinth was good or bad, so for the sake of the story, they're not mad at each other. Oh and this was a spur of the moment thing, not planned, not edited very well either. I just went with it. Enjoy.