A/N: Sorry, guys for taking long. I'll be gone for two weeks since; we'll be going to the province for the Holy Week, so, this is probably going to be the last chapter I'm going to submit for now. So, if I were you, I'll read this nice and slow, enjoy it; it's long anyway - I made it long. More will come soon!
I feel like the writing's bad again. (sigh)
"Impossible To Like You,"
Chapter 3
Finally, Mr. Blofis' discussion was over and luckily, I took down all the important details, which are included in the quiz tomorrow. And on that fortunate note, the idiot behind me stopped harassing my hair sexually, so, I was able to concentrate.
As the class stood up and began walking out of the classroom, I stood from my seat, and shouldered my bag when Mr. Blofis suddenly called for me.
I approached him at his desk, ignoring Nico's remarks (such as, "Ooh, you're deaaad!").
"Yes, Mr. Blofis?" I looked down at him.
Before he replied, he looked behind me, seemingly checking if there was anyone in earshot, or even just anyone around. Luckily, there wasn't, so he continued.
"Uh, forgive Percy for what he's doing that offends you, hurts you or whatever negative things it does to you." He said.
Well, didn't expect that.
"Wow, sir, that's a hard task." I said, sarcastically – actually, no, I meant it.
He chuckled, "Yeah, I'm really sorry." He continued.
"I just wish he's the one who's saying this." I smiled.
He nodded in agreement, "Same here, but, well, the boy's like this ever since," he paused, thinking, ". . . ever since, well, I'm not sure." He finished.
I cocked an eyebrow, "So, that means, long ago, before the world was even created, Perseus Jackson was once a good person?" Though, even though I let this one out as a joke, I meant it. Really.
He chuckled slightly louder, "No, he really is. I just don't know why he's like this now." He said.
He really is a good person? You're kidding, I said to myself mentally; only nodded as a response.
"Oh, and I heard that you got detention because of him." He changed the subject.
I smiled sheepishly, "I don't really want to talk about it, Mr. Blofis."
He smiled, "It's alright. I apologize for that too." He said, but, before I could actually say it was okay, he immediately added, "I'll talk to your parents about it to, at least, let them know that you're going to be home slightly late."
That enlightened my mood. I don't really want to talk to my parents about it, so, letting him explain must be better. I swear, I felt sparkles in my eyes.
"Really? Uh, well, thank you, Mr. Blofis!" I grinned appreciatively, "I'm grateful."
He nodded slightly, "Of course, as a way to make it to you."
"Still, thanks so much."
"You're welcome." He said, "Now, go to your next class, you might be late."
I nodded and approached the door, but, before I left, I turned to him and said once more, "Thank you."
Classes were finally over and I am here in my English classroom, where this week's detention will usually be held.
I stared at Mrs. White, the monitor for detention, as she continued on ranting the don'ts, ". . . don't laugh, don't smile, don't sleep, don't go out unless you ask permission – honestly, I won't let you out anyway – if probable or even acceptable, don't breath."
Gee, isn't she sweet?
I nodded slightly to alarm her that we – mostly me; Percy didn't probably listen – understood her.
"Good, I'll be back after thirty minutes to dismiss you. Now, if you need me, I'll be in the teachers' lounge." And there, she walks out of the classroom. After a few good minutes, we could hear the loud television echoing from the hallway.
I rolled my eyes. No wonder teens don't mind being in detention with her as the monitor; she doesn't even pay attention.
I sighed silently and stared at my table, which is still at the center of the classroom, while Percy's was temporarily moved at the back.
I heard him sigh louder. Yep, he wants a competition. He's probably bored by now, but, knowing he has ADHD, there are doubtlessly a lot of things distracting him.
After twenty-eight minutes (I've been counting) of uncomfortable silence, my stomach broke it. I groaned as I remembered that I haven't even eaten.
Then, I heard him snicker.
I glanced at Percy to see him biting his lip to avoid laughing further.
Just the sight of his face like that, actually, makes me laugh.
Sooner or later, I began laughing, but quietly.
Then, he burst into laughter. And I joined in, slightly louder.
After a minute, I managed to stop, dying the hilarity down.
"Gods, sorry 'bout that–," I caught myself, why am I apologizing? "Er, I take back what I said. You're probably going to mock me or something." I looked away from him.
I heard him scoff, "You haven't eaten, right?" He asked.
Not wanting to really talk, I nodded, without even looking at him.
"Because you didn't have your wallet, right?"
I nodded again.
"Then, you found it under that desk, correct?"
I cocked an eyebrow. I turned to him, "How do you know?"
He shrugged slightly, "White you were chasing me, I opened your bag and looked at your things. I memorized them all to know that when you get them, they'll be complete. I threw them at the Stoll brothers, who were only beside me at that time and told them to put it in your desk in your class before lunch; they must've heard me wrong because you only got it after lunch; also, to write two notes – you saw them, right? – while you were screeching to stop yourself from running as I closed your bag and shouldered it. Knowing what you were going to do, I instantly stopped running and began chasing you. Then, blah, blah, blah, etcetera."
I blinked.
What in Ares' wars did I just hear?
As I tried to process that into my mind, I didn't notice the door suddenly opening.
Immediately, I looked up and saw Mrs. White – wait, she didn't hear what Percy just explained, right?
"Were you punished enough?" She didn't.
Both of us nodded this time.
"Good, now, you may go. I don't expect you two to do it again, alright?" She crossed her arms.
We nodded again, then, began standing up. I took my bag, shouldered it, walked passed Mrs. White, and left the classroom, not waiting for Percy – why would I wait for him anyway?
But, of course, he caught up with me.
He walked beside me – wait; what?
Realizing this, I looked at him confusingly. "Why are you here?"
"We're neighbours, remember?" He rolled his eyes.
Oh, right.
And there, I recalled why I hate my life so much.
"Still, that doesn't mean you have to walk beside me."
He shrugged, "Whatever."
I rolled my eyes and ignored him the whole way to my house – I just walk; my house is only a few blocks away from the school.
There was a very tight silence surrounding us for only a few moments – three minutes, I'm sure (I count, at all times.)
"Hey, you're hungry, right?" He suddenly asked, not even halfway home.
"You asked that before."
"And you replied with a nod, right?"
I nodded again.
"Probably my fault?"
"It's isn't 'probably', Jackson, it is without a doubt, surely and positively, your fault." I said in a very tight and angry tone.
I let a wind of silence pass by between us; so, those words could sink into his idiotic mind.
"I'll treat you." He unexpectedly said.
I stopped walking and turned around to see him standing quite stiffly, as if he was guilty – oh, my, gods, is he guilty?
I cocked an eyebrow, "What?"
"Don't make me repeat it, Chase, it was already hard enough to say it."
I didn't feel that a smirk crawled on my lips, until I removed it. "Treat me? What do you mean?"
"Since you didn't have the chance to eat at lunch because I took your things, including your wallet, and you're hungry right now, I want to treat you to a café, restaurant or something, so, you know, I could make it up to 'ya." He began rubbing the back of his neck while he looked down, like he does when he's slightly nervous or extremely.
I looked at him suspiciously, "Are you playing a sick joke here, Jackson?"
He looked up to me as he sheepishly laughed, "If only it was."
My eyes widened, "Who are you and what have you done to that idiotic excuse for a mortal?" Yes, I meant that.
He rolled his eyes, "He's still here, thinking if what he's about to do will be regretful."
I let out a small laugh, "Gods, you're serious?"
He nodded.
"Well, alright." I let a small smile play on my lips, "I'll make you regret it." I said, wickedly.
"Don't dare. I only got a few bucks in my wallet." He said as he brought out his navy blue wallet from his pocket and began counting his money.
I smirked, "We'll just wait and see."
I could see him roll his eyes again, then, he pocketed his wallet.
"So, where to?" I placed my hands on my hips, demanding to know where he'll treat me.
His turn to smirk, "Your favourite."
After a two-minute walk, we were finally in front of my favorite diner. It was a simple pizza place, with interior like any other casual diner; I'd go here when I want to study or read in peace during early mornings or late afternoons to avoid Percy's vexation.
Honestly, during those vexations, I never told him where I'll go, so, frankly, I'm wondering how he knew I went to this place.
I stared at him in shock – seriously, how did he know?
"What?" He asked, finally noticing my shock expression staring at his senseless face.
"How–," I caught myself; I'll just ask him later, "Let's just get inside." Before I could push the door open, he suddenly grabbed the handle and opened it for me.
I arched an eyebrow at him.
He did the same, "Do you want to get in or not?"
I didn't reply, just rolled my eyes and stepped inside.
Immediately, I was greeted by the smell of delicious pizza. I smiled; gods, how I love this place. I noticed Percy step inside, closing the door behind me, which made the rusted gold bell on top of the door ring.
A country lady with auburn hair, and green eyes turned around and smiled at us, "Welcome!"
I nodded as a greeting the same.
We began walking around to look for a table.
We found one just behind a huge, glass window a few tables before the entrance. It had a rectangular, white table between two small, gray-and-silver love couches.
I slid in at the right one, while Percy slid in at the other, so, we were just across each other.
I placed my bag down, and put it beside me, like a barrier between the huge, glass window and I – same with Percy.
Moments later – a minute, I'm positive –, a country lady with black hair, and brown eyes, a waitress, with a small notebook and pen in her apron pocket, carrying two red menus approached us and gave them to us.
Once we took them from her, she nodded, letting us now to just call her when we were ready, and walked away.
I opened the menu and began searching for food – gods, I'm starving!
"Don't get anything expensive." I heard him say as he looked for what he wanted.
I smirked, "Yeah, just something delicious."
"Which is probably expensive?"
I nodded.
He glared at me.
I let out a chuckle, "Okay, okay, fine." I said, raising my hands up as if in defeat, then, placed them down when I spotted something I want.
"I'd like this pasta," I said, shoving the menu in front of his face, pointing at it.
He must've looked at the price, because, immediately, he pushed the menu away.
"That costs like eight bucks, Chase!" He frowned.
"How many do you even have?" I asked, crossing my arms, lying back at the seat, after placing the menu flat on the table.
"Err, twenty."
I stared at him.
"Fine, thirty."
I raised an eyebrow.
"Forty."
I stared at him with an eyebrow raised.
"Alright, alright! Fifty." He sighed.
I grinned triumphantly.
After he chose what he wanted, we called for the waitress.
She approached us, brought out her small notebook, and her pen, turned to a page, then, looked at us, "What can I get for the couple?"
I must've been a tomato head, because the lady was looking at me with a smirk.
"No, no, no, you're mistaken. We are not a–," "She'd like some pasta. I'd like the chicken fillet burger and one small Pepperoni Pizza." he cut me off as the waitress wrote what he's saying.
"Alright, I'll repeat," she said before she went over the order.
Percy nodded, letting her know that it was all correct.
"Any drinks?"
"Coca Cola." Percy said as the waitress wrote, "She'll have a Diet Coke." How did he know?
"Okay, be right back with the food." Then, she left, leaving a surprised-slash-annoyed-slash-maybe-a-bit-pissed girl (me) and an idiotic-slash-stupid-slash-seaweed-brained boy (him).
"Okay, Jackson, I'm starting to think this is a sick joke." I crossed my arms as I glared at him.
He raised an eyebrow, another way to ask why.
"Because, you know my favourite restaurant, you know my favourite drink, and you didn't correct the waitress that we're not a couple."
He sighed, "I know your favourite restaurant because I see come here all the time – it's mine too, anyway. I know your favourite drink because you always buy and drink it – in school, in your room and here – I see you do it too – and I didn't 'correct'," he did the apostrophe sign at the word, "the waitress because I know the people here – so do you too – and, they're just playing; they won't suddenly assume we are a couple because we came here together."
I swallowed the lump, which was stuck on my throat as he was explaining, on my throat.
I nodded, alarming him I understood, still wearing my stern look.
Okay, well, I guess it's probably alright that both of us like this restaurant, since, it's actually the nearest one from where we live; it's acceptable that he knows my favourite drink, since, as he has said, he sees me buy and drink it all the time – who knows how he's so observant – and it's certainly tolerable that he didn't correct the waitress, because, yes, I do know the people here, I know that they're not the kind who'll just assume that we're a couple 'cause we went inside together and are to be eating together; they're, also, just "playing" with us – right, right. I'm convincing myself unconvincingly.
Then, I realized that I was over-thinking this, 'causing it to be a problem, and slapped myself mentally – but, shook my head wildly physically.
I noticed how he looked at me strangely, then, I apprehended that I must've appeared really silly, so, I glanced to the huge, glass window beside us, letting my ADHD distract me with the outside world, also, allowing a brick of silence between us.
But, he muttered. He muttered something I did not entirely hear, except for the word "stupid".
I glanced at him, with allowing my gray eyes to look furious, as if I was enraged at what he had said – or even heard him.
His bored sea-green eyes gawked at my stormy gray ones; his expression remained emotionless.
After a moment – a minute, surely – of nothing else but staring, he looked away, probably cowering in fear at my stormy gray ones as it grew fierier and fierier – yeah, I can do that.
Though, my assumption was incorrect for he suddenly looked back and asked, "Where are you going to college?"
I arched an eyebrow, "I'd like to know why you care."
For a moment – a minute and a half –, he was quiet, like deadly quiet, as if what I said created a huge damage in him – or he was just thinking on what to say, like thinking very deep; no, probably not; if he'll be thinking deep, his brain must've been smashed up.
"Just answer my question," he said instead.
I wanted him to answer mine first, but, he does get the right to say that, I must admit. So, I did. "I don't know yet. I'm thinking of going to NYU. They said the architecture course there's awesome, but–,"
"Not surprising." He said, crossing his arms, cutting me off.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I didn't really mean that to offend you, but, it really wasn't surprising at all. Since, I know that you did want to be an architect." He replied in monotone.
I don't remember a time telling him that I wanted to be an architect. I never told him anything. How did you know? I asked mentally, but, it seems that I have said it aloud.
"From the blueprints in your room, the books that you read, the facts that you know, it's obvious." He shrugged.
"Oh," well, I guess I did allow myself to be evident about what I wanted to be, but, I never expected him to notice.
I let myself be quiet for a second, thinking about how he was so observant about me, when I have concluded (I had to theorize, and experimented first) that he was a complete idiot, a seaweed brain.
However, I guess, being observant doesn't mean you're clever.
On the other hand, to be observant, you need, of course, sharp eyes –I don't think he has sharp eyes, though, but, that's only thinking, not knowing – and attentiveness –but, I assumed, no, no, I even tested him, that he wasn't attentive at all. I know he doesn't listen, never does. That's why he's grades are–wait, I don't know his grades. I never asked, nor did I even care. But, I knew he was oblivious, unwise, senseless, stupid, and not clever at all. I even experimented!
Then again, who am I to judge? Who am I to conclude that he was a total idiot? Maybe, he is intelligent, more intelligent than I've ever known or expected. Maybe, experimenting it only once (yes, did it only once) isn't enough. Maybe – "But . . . ?" His questionable voice interrupted my thoughts.
I must've been quiet for too long that he was waiting for me to continue my cut-off sentence. I shook my head slightly as I tried to push the thoughts away.
Once they were, I began, "Oh, well, as I was saying before I was interrupted unsurprisingly (his "not surprising" comment before), but, well, I don't really have enough money to do it." I said, remembering my plan for college.
His expression suddenly changed from emotionless to concern – wait, why would he care?
"You're a senior, at the end of high school. Our graduation is only a few months away, and you have three months to look for a college, and still you don't have enough money to do it?" His tone turned stern, but, full of concern, like the tone my dad uses when I was nearly done at a project but, was still procrastinating even if the deadline was only in a few days.
I didn't reply, though. I don't like that tone, no matter who uses it. It gives me shame, making me ashamed of myself – and frankly, I don't like that.
He, somehow, noticed how his tone was, because, he suddenly asked, "Why don't you ask your parents to help you?" in a, rather, not-stern-at-all tone, but, still filled with apprehension.
I bit my lip, remembering what I've done about my parents. I didn't know what to reply. Should I lie? Should I tell the truth? But, if I lied, it'll give that haunting spirit inside me more power. However, if I said the truth, it'll lessen the spirit's power greatly, making me feel a lot lighter. Though, the risk is too much.
On the other hand, why would I tell him though? Of all people I could have, why him?
As my thoughts battled each other, thinking really deep, I permitted my eyes to stare at his.
Suddenly, the sight of his bright, concerned sea-green eyes urged me to reply the truth – and so I did.
"I told them not to. I told them I had money to do it. I told them I could do it alone."
His eyes suddenly widened, "Alone?"
"Don't worry, Perseus," I scoffed, "I'm tougher than I seem."
He became silent for a moment – a minute – then, he let out a small chuckle, "Yeah." He murmured.
He lay on his seat, his hands now inside the pocket of his dark blue jacket as he stared outside, bringing silence between us.
I didn't mind the silence though, so finally I could let myself think. I looked up at the sky and saw that the sky has changed from light azure to dark navy. The clouds were gathering, forming a large one, nearly blocking the bright sunlight, shading the city with dark shadows.
It was going to rain – I'm positive of it. I mean, who's an idiot to not even conclude that after seeing this kind of sight?
"It's dark." Percy suddenly said, looking up.
"So?" I glanced at him.
"So, well, it's dark."
I sit corrected; that idiot to not even conclude it was going to rain after seeing this kind of sight is just across me.
Another few moments – three minutes – later, the food finally arrived. The waitress moments ago carried a plastic, brown tray as she brought out our food. She handed me my pasta; she gave Percy his chicken fillet burger and she placed the Pepperoni Pizza between our foods. She placed a glass of hot water, where one pair of spoon and fork is, on the table.
She, then, gave me a glass of Diet Coke, and, offered Percy's his Coca Cola.
"Complete, Percy, Annabeth?" She asked, saying our names.
"Yes, Candice. Thanks." Percy nodded, alarming her that the food was complete.
Then, she left, carrying the tray along with her, after she has said, "Enjoy."
Immediately, I took the pair of spoon and fork and began mixing my pasta, while Percy began unwrapping the covering off his burger, then, taking a big bite.
Once the pasta seemed to be mixed enough, I placed my fork inside, setting my spoon aside, twisted it around the pasta and placed it inside my mouth before I started chewing it.
After three minutes of silence and eating, he swallowed his piece of his burger and spoke, "So, what's your plan?" He asked.
"About what?" I asked, after I gulped some of the noodles.
"Your plan to NYU. You only got limited time, you know." He said before he took another bite.
I sighed, twisting pasta around my fork, "Well, I'm looking for a free scholarship on it." I replied, "After I get that, I'll be interviewed and if I pass the interview, I am in, in architecture." I smiled – weird, I felt like I haven't done that in a while.
He looked up to me, seemed to have saw something on my features. He stared at it for a while, making me feel stupid. I frowned, "What is it? Is there something on my face?" I asked, grabbing a napkin and wiping something off my mouth.
He seemed to have woken up from some kind of daydream – why would he daydream anyway? – and he shook his head rowdily.
"Nah, it's nothing." He said.
I placed the napkin down before I continued on twisting more noodles around my fork, then, placing it inside my mouth and chewed.
Once I have gulped that down, I grabbed my glass of Diet Coke and drank before I spoke, "How 'bout you, Jackson? You got any plans for college?" I asked, knowing that I had said too much about myself now and it was his turn.
He was quiet for a moment – a minute, to be exact – then, replied with a shrug. "Not really sure. There are some swimming competitions during the summer, and our swimming team is included, so, I need to train the team." He replied – oh, I forgot to mention, Percy's the captain of the Goode Swim Team, the school swimming team.
I nodded, "But, what course would you like to take if you were in college?" I asked.
"Honestly," he began, "I'd like marine biology." My jaw was dropped on my lap.
Did my ears deceive me or did the seaweed brain, Perseus Jackson, just say he wanted to take Marine Biology in college?
Wow.
I must've said that one aloud, because, he suddenly smirked, "I'm not an idiot, Annie." Oh, yes, you are; I did the whole science process just to conclude you are.
I laughed, "Seriously, Jackson?"
"I'm serious."
"No, you're kidding, I can see sparkles in your eyes."
"That's just the light." He said, "You know, the light reflecting on my eyes– you explain it better."
"No, it isn't. You're seriously kidding!"
"How can I kid when I'm serious?"
"It's called 'taking things seriously'."
"Frankly, if I kid, I wouldn't be serious at all. In this case, I'm not kidding, so, I am serious."
I bit lip, trying not to laugh, "Alright, alright." I managed to say, "But, why, seaweed brain, Perseus Jackson, would you want to be a marine biologist?" I asked, twisting pasta on my fork again.
"You know how I like water, the sea, the ocean. Also, the sea creatures; gods, how I love them, I've been fascinated by them – it's kind of hard to explain." He elucidated, a shade of pink appearing across his nose in embarrassment.
I nodded, "I see. You truly are a seaweed brain."
He rolled his eyes as I let out a laugh again, biting the fork in my lips.
Honestly, now was only the time I realized that Perseus Jackson can actually be fun to hang out with. Or is that only a play in my mind?
All characters don't belong to me, except for Candice, she's not real.
