It starts after junior prom.
She's queen, of course, and she knows the part. But for the first time, she hears whispers, that she rigged the vote, that Calypso Ogygia deserved it, and she was too curvy, too tan, to be prom queen.
Annabeth Chase doesn't eat anything at prom (and she reasons with herself, you never know if the food here is spiked with some sort of drug)
The day after that, when Susan Chase makes her a plate of waffles, she denies, because she's almost late to first period A.P calculus. She takes an apple, instead (but it lies there, at the bottom of her bag, rotting, until she throws it out at lunch.)
"Oh, mystery meat again," Thalia Grace says, wrinkling her nose at the slops on her plate. She's Annabeth's best friend, and perhaps, only friend.
Annabeth laughs. "I guess I'll just skip my lunch today, huh?"
Thalia frowns. "Don't do that. Just...eat the carrots or something." Her electric blue eyes were taut with concern, and for maybe the millionth time, Annabeth feels a rush of affection for her friend.
"I'll just go home and eat, Thals. It's no big deal."
She forgets. And is too occupied with her World History homework to come to dinner.
Her dad, being a history professor with much more important things to do than notice his daughter's sudden lack of eating, is oblivious. Susan is, honestly, very nice, but she's too caught up with Bobby and Matthew and her own job as a telemarketer to notice how there's a whole plate of spaghetti in the trash.
Annabeth herself feels weak, but it's worth it. Not as many people are whispering anymore, and she's gotten a compliment or two on her figure just today. Thalia looks at her with squinted eyes sometimes, but Luke Castellan has just asked Thals out and she's positively ecstatic (and Annabeth isn't going to tell her about her suddenly evaporated crush on him, is she? we all have our secrets).
Five days after junior prom, she trips on someone's untied shoelaces. "Watch it," she growls, and looks up to see the startled Percy Jackson.
Percy is probably the person she hates the most. He's the only one above her in all. Their. Freaking. Classes. Every teacher hero-worships him. Aside from the fact that he's not at all popular (maybe because of his thick, framed glasses, or the stack of textbooks inevitably in his arms), he's the bane of her existence (at that, she ignores the now perpetual grumble in her stomach).
"Oh, I'm sorry, Annabeth," he chuckles. He's also always in a good mood, and she always tries to ignore his sparkling, almost cute green eyes. "Just headed to A.P Chem. Monroe is really a beast with those tests, huh?"
She lets out a "hah" for good measure. "Yeah, totally."
"Do you want to study together for the next one? I really need someone to help me with the whole covalent bonding thing, because-"
"If you're trying to discreetly treat me as your charity case, the answer is no." Annabeth knows he's mocking her. By the gods, he got a freaking 105 on their last exam.
He looks up at her, his eyes confused. "What? No, I'm serious. I really need help with it. And you're the smartest one in the class, so..."
She's not even going to pretend she wasn't flattered by that comment. "Fine, I guess. Where do you want to meet?"
"What about Starbucks? After school today?" Annabeth starts panicking inside, because she hasn't set foot in a Starbucks for about a week, and that will totally ruin her diet.
"Um, no, the library might be better, because we won't be distracted."
"By what?" He raises an eyebrow in jest. "My dreamy eyes?"
She's totally thrown off, because how did he know what I was thinking and since when did Percy Jackson become a flirt?
Of course, he turns into a blushing mess after that. "Please? I really, really, really want to treat you. And get coffee."
"I'm not going to eat anything there. I'm on a diet."
He looks horrified now. "You look really pretty the way you are! Now I'm totally taking you to Starbucks, Annabeth Chase."
The bell rings, and both of them head inside, but since it's last period, Percy effectively drags her inside the cafe. He orders a caramel macchiato, and looks at her questioningly.
"Um, a hot chocolate is fine." He shoots her an affronted look, and turns to the barista.
"I'd like a venti hot white chocolate mocha, with two shots of expresso, 1 cup of soy milk, whipped cream, and mocha drizzle."
She squeaks, and nudges him hard. To his credit, he only winces.
"What the heck did you order?"
"Hot chocolate, right? You said you wanted hot. Chocolate. I gave you both, just with a twist."
And, maybe, just maybe, Annabeth Chase can be persuaded to finish her drink.
fin
