Percy didn't think there was much out there worse or more humiliating than getting caught holding up a pair of turquoise yoga pants in the women's section by your third grade English teacher, but there he was in actual yoga class and he had already contemplated faking a heart attack just to get out of it seven times in the last five minutes. So yeah, he guessed you could say there was something worse.
It was all Rachel's fault, as everything that went wrong in Percy's life always was, but he was willing to give some of the blame to the pimply Costco employee that pointed him into the wrong section when he asked for yoga pants. Rachel was less willing to take any blame at all, despite his lenience ("you ought've known you were in the women's section anyway, Perce. They do have signs you know" "I have dyslexia, okay, dyslexia. Ableist much, Rach?" "Whatever. Hey, aren't the yoga pants like right next to the bra display?" "Dyslexia, Rachel").
Anyway, Rachel and Grover had both spent the last two weeks leading up to the yoga lesson nagging at him to do something that involved him getting out of his new apartment. For the first month after he moved to the west coast, they had hardly bothered him about it. There were plenty of excuses lying around – he was still settling in, his job was really busy, etc – but there were only so many times that you could unpack your five plates and three cups. While their accusations of his social inactivity weren't entirely unfound, he hadn't really given their complaints much thought until one particular phone call.
He'd just come back from a run, his shirt still clinging to his skin. Sweat was running in rivulets down his back and the last thing he wanted to do was take a call when all he wanted to do was jump in the shower. Even across the country Rachel somehow managed to have impeccably unimpeccable timing. She called it her sixth sense. Percy called it annoying as fuck. A+
Still, Rachel and Grover really were his best friends and there was little he could do about that. "Hey!" Percy crowed into the phone tucked into the nook between his jaw and shoulder as he rifled through his mostly empty and completely blue fridge. "What's up?"
"Hey, Perce! I'd ask if you were busy, but I think we both know the answer to that, my favorite social recluse," Rachel chirped from the other end. Percy groaned. Not this again.
"Har har, you're hilarious," he snarked back, sick of her teasing. So what if he liked watching Teen Wolf and videos on YouTube better than interacting with actual living, annoying people?
"Oh, you know I'm just messing with you."
Percy sniffed a carton of orange juice he'd gotten when he first moved there and tried not to gag. "I was actually just coming back in from a run. You?"
"I'm on my way to yoga class. Speaking of-"
"No."
"You don't even know what I was going to say," she protested, and Percy could hear the grin in her voice.
Percy rolled his eyes and decided in favor of just getting some water from the tap. "I'm not doing yoga, Rachel."
"Well, what else do you have going on in your life?" she cut across Percy before he could get anything out in defense. "Don't bother answering, I already know what you're going to say – work."
Percy bit his lip and sighed. It was, after all, true, and Rachel knew it. After Percy completed his internship in the marine branch of the Wildlife Conservation Society in New York City, he'd been offered a job working at Sea World– no way he was going to turn that down (Sea World!), even if it meant moving to a part of the country where he knew absolutely no one. He loved his job – Rachel could tease him all she wanted, but sea lions were literally the cutest thing ever – but the move did mean that his social life was essentially reduced to nothing.
"Look, Perce," Rachel continued, "Just give it a chance. It's California. There has to be a yoga place less than a block away." She paused before adding, "I just want you to be happy there."
She hung up soon after, once she had reached her yoga studio, but not without making Percy promise to at least Google it first.
Fantastic.
It turned out Rachel was right. There was a yoga studio not two blocks – streets, they're called streets – away from his apartment. For a couple of days Percy wasn't quite sure what to do with this information. He went to work as usual and directly back home to fuck around on the internet for a bit before watching some tv. It was half way through the last Game of Thrones episode that he stopped to think. And came to the shitty realization that Rachel was right (dammit. He could nearly see her smug face). He was sitting at home on a Friday night, he had no friends (or a social life that didn't include sea lions or marathoning TV shows) this side of the country, and hell, what did he have to lose?
Without thinking, he had thrown on a light jacket over his worn out v-neck and was out the door before he even realized what he was doing.
He had forgotten that California got much hotter much faster than New York, and by the time he had walked down the length of his street a thin line of sweat began forming at his brow. A passing older lady gave him the eye. Which was creepy. Percy briefly considered turning back around to change, but eh. He regretted it later when he arrived at the McLean yoga and meditation studio, a small, mint green painted little building tucked between a bakery and a law office, sweating profusely and grossly. Man, what he would do for some water. Grumpy from the heat and just glad to be out of it, he flung open the glass door, stumbling into the sweet air-conditioned studio looking worse for wear.
"May we help you?" There were two woman behind the receptionist counter, one sitting on a stool, and the other leaning against the table. They looked to be his age, and confusion was evident. The one who had spoken pushed herself of the counter and took a wary step towards him, her eyes narrowing slightly as she took in the sight of his sweaty, exasperated state. She was crazy beautiful, messy brown hair and glowing tan skin and all.
"Uh…" Percy managed to get out. What exactly was he doing here again? "I would, uh, like to do the…" He waved his hand in the general direction of the McLean Yoga and Meditation sign above the counter. "Yoga."
The woman sitting on the stool barely stifled a giggle. Her golden eyes flashed at him underneath quirked eyebrows.
'I would like to do the yoga.' Yes. Brilliant.
On the other, slightly more positive hand, the first woman no longer looked as if she expected Percy to try and rob them, which was nice.
She extended her hand. "Well, you've come to the right place. My name's Piper McLean, and that's Hazel." She nodded her head to the girl with the golden eyes. "We actually don't have any beginner classes until tomorrow -"
"Beginner?" Percy interrupted, imagining a class filled with eight year olds.
The woman – Piper – raised an eyebrow. "Do you have any yoga experience?"
Percy opened his mouth to reply before wisely snapping it shut. Piper smiled. "Thought so. But here, you can go ahead and fill out some forms with Hazel to get all those out of the way now."
Percy bit his lip. What was he doing here anyway? He could hardly believe Rachel had gotten him this far. "You know what? I actually, uh, I should go. This was a mistake -."
Piper smiled warmly. It was beautiful and captivating. "Oh no, not so fast." She leaned forward and put her hands firmly on his shoulders to guide him towards Hazel. Her touch was gentle and urging as she steered him deeper into the building. Which was also creepy, when he thought about it later.
Ten minutes later all the paperwork had been processed and he had paid for the first ten sessions, and quite frankly he honestly didn't know how this happened. He blamed a combined force of Rachel's goading, Piper's smile, and Hazel's bright enthusiasm. Girls.
"Bye!" The girls crowed behind him as he numbly stepped back out into the California sun in a daze.
He blinked for a moment before letting out a small chuckle, dipping his head as he headed back down the street.
If all California girls were like this, he'd probably have to start leaving his credit card at home.
A/N: Yay new story! This was heavily inspired by Ravingrevolution's Salutations or Something, which is an amazing fic. Thanks to my lovely beta, Maddie at bookish-type-7. If you would like to singlehandedly make my day or encourage me to update this quickly then please leave a review! Much love, Anna x.