Disclaimer: I do not own the Percy Jackson and the Olympians series, the Heroes of Olympus series, or the song Summer Girl. All rights go to those deserving.

Chapter XXII: Everything's Fine, God I Wish It Were True

It was a few days later that Percy found himself in the living room of Annabeth's house; wooden floors creaking and air carrying the smell of old burnt cigarettes. With his sneakers planted stiffly on the faded rug beneath him, he tried to inhale steady breaths.

"You're as stiff as a board," Annabeth commented, an amused tilt to her tone. She gently moved a hand over his shoulders, smoothing out the tension beneath his cotton T-shirt. "Are you breathing?"

"Trying," Percy murmured quietly, turning his head to push his nose against her cheek. "I forgot why I thought this was a good idea."

Annabeth laughed, somewhat satisfied at his discomfort. He'd visited her house plenty of times before, but never without either of his cousins towing along. This time, they were alone. "It's really not as big a deal as you're making it. It's about time you came around by yourself." Shuffling closer, he felt her hand tangle with his in the space between their legs. "There's nothing to be afraid of. It's just me over here."

"Yeah, I noticed."

The smile that stretched the corners of her lips was enough to push a little ease his way, the air starting to reach his lungs more smoothly. The past few hours had been fun; along with Thalia and Jason, they had spent some time together down at Shadow's Creek, relishing in clear water and a cool breeze. Sometime between swinging from the rope and diving into the doughnut tube with the sounds of snapping twigs and rustling branches surrounding them, Percy realized that it all felt a little like coming home. After the rocky weeks of jealousy and frustration since camping and settling things with Annabeth publically, they were finally falling back into routine, and that soothed an ache inside him he wasn't aware existed.

While things had been rough revealing themselves as a couple, the relationship itself had been smooth-sailing. The occasional argument (alright, not so much as "occasional" as twice-a-day-and-sometimes-three-if-they-skipped-breakfast) sprouted from petty causes. As would be expected—they couldn't be Percy and Annabeth without their typical squabbles about what to eat for lunch or who the better whistler was of the two. Aside from that though, they'd been fairing exceptionally well for a couple of whiny teenagers racing through romance on a dead-end street.

From what he remembered of all the shows he used to watch on TV—and a couple of cheesy romance movies he watched with his mom—storm was what followed the calm. He wasn't sure if that was the case in reality, and he surely didn't have enough experience under his belt to actually validate the theory. All he could do was hope his luck stayed generous, although that might have been asking for a lot considering his history thus far.

When Annabeth laid her head on his shoulder, curling up to his side and pulling their tangled hands to rest on his chest, he figured maybe they already had too much to be worried about without bringing fear of rocky waters into the situation, too. Sighing something like contentedly, he let his own head drop onto hers. He had time to worry about their troubles another time; right now, he wouldn't let himself stumble onto that road while he still had the choice to fake oblivion and ignore the impending struggle they faced.

With that, he relaxed against his girlfriend's shoulder, taking a few minutes to study the space they sat in together. The living room had a brick fireplace opposite the couch, dressed with a wooden mantle that matched the scuffed up floorboards below their feet. Late day sunshine glowed through the open windows, bringing along a breeze of fragrant country air that pulled the light linen curtains away from the walls. Annabeth's hair was tied back loosely around the nape of her neck, tickling his cheek when his breath blew it out of place.

Just as he was about to lower his head to press a kiss to his favorite freckle just above her jaw, the clatter of the front door opening stopped the action in its tracks. Percy's eyes snapped up and his body unconsciously pulled away from Annabeth's—a force of habit. They didn't get a lot of alone time, and fact was his cousins weren't too thrilled witnessing their PDA.

This time, it wasn't his cousins, though. Which, duh, was understandable considering he was sitting in Annabeth's house. But as soon as this realization took place, it didn't take long for a stiff nervousness to take over his body again. Annabeth sighed, sitting up just in time for a thick shouldered man to enter the room, heavy boots scuffing along the floor as if announcing his arrival. Percy's eyes involuntarily floated to meet the big man's gaze, and a thick blond eyebrow jutted up in response. He looked different up close.

"This one's new." The strongly-accented sentence was directed toward Annabeth, though the man's blue eyes never faltered from their silent contact with Percy. She cleared her throat, putting what seemed like another imperceptible inch of space between them—though the man seemed to catch the movement as soon as it was considered. "Dad," Annabeth acknowledged evenly, smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles on her shorts. "This is Percy."

The man—Annabeth's dad—squinted. "Sounds familiar," he stated.

Under her breath, only Percy heard her mutter, "Because I've already told you about him."

"I've seen you over at May's," he said, scratching at a scruffy bit of facial hair. "You're the nephew?"

"That's me." Percy winced at the high pitch to his voice. Clearing his throat, he stood up and thrust a hand forward. "Percy Jackson, sir."

A slight smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. "Frederick Chase. I take it you're a friend to my daughter?"

Before he could stop it, a blush slithered up his neck and pooled in his cheeks. "Uh," he stuttered, losing what courage he thought he had obtained. He glanced at Annabeth for help.

Her expression confused him, because he couldn't identify it; her jaw clenched and her arms folded over her chest. "Dad. I'm dating him. I told you already."

Frederick chuckled, tapping his chin. "Oh—I forgot about your little boyfriend. That was a while ago."

"Not really," she mumbled bitterly, again, only for Percy's ears. A strange look passed over her face, and Percy found that he didn't like what he thought it meant.

"Anyway, it was nice meeting you, son. But I've got some work that needs to be taken care of. Are you eating here tonight, Annabeth?"

"No," she answered shortly, eyes somewhere to the left of her father's head. The man only shrugged, sending one last wave and an oblivious smile over his shoulder before heading for the direction of the stairs. Percy only heard his boots' resounding stomps in sign of retreat.

"That might have been enough interaction to hold us over for the next week," Annabeth whispered, as if her father could still hear them. "I wonder if he'll even bother coming out of his study before school starts up again."

Percy frowned, letting his arm curl around her shoulders freely now that their company had disappeared. "What do you mean?"

Ignoring his question, Annabeth turned to him with a tight jaw. "Do you ever feel like you can talk to someone all you want, but all it ever does is go in one ear and out the other?"

"You don't mean Thalia?" Percy joked, attempting to soften the focus of her frown. It worked for a moment, but the small smile she offered was fleeting. Soon enough, she was back to staring at a spot on her wall with furrowed brows and a locked jaw.

"For God's sake, the least he could do is pretend he actually cares about what's going on in my life." The conviction in her voice caused an ache in Percy's chest, and it intensified tenfold as he watched her bite her lip, squeezing her eyes shut in response to her sudden spurt of emotion.

"Hey," he murmured, pulling her closer. "What's wrong?"

She shook her head, shoving away any indication of emotion left on her face. Her eyes were hard, but he could spot the moisture pooling at the corners. "I can get more reaction out of Gertrude," she explained, expression frustrated and voice softening to a defeated whisper. "As much as I try to engage, he's never interested. It's always been like this."

Not knowing what to say, or how to make her feel better, Percy remained quiet. The hand curled around her shoulder began rubbing swirling shapes into her skin. He didn't know much of anything about her family, and it would only turn messy if he tried to chime in with advice for something he knew nothing about.

Sniffing, Annabeth pulled away, letting her head fall onto the back of the couch. Her eyes closed and chin tilted up—almost like she was gazing at galaxies imprinted against the insides of her eyelids. Her neck looked miles long from this angle, and Percy swallowed at the sight of smooth, tan skin spread before him. Letting his eyes glide over the image of Annabeth, quiet and calm in her skin, he realized how much he liked looking at her.

She was his girlfriend—of course he liked looking at her. But this felt more like studying. He hoped it wasn't too creepy to watch her ribs lift in a deep breath. Or her nostrils flare at the exhale. He stared at her pink mouth, bottom lip pouty and full, then at the freckle above her jaw, and the crease where her forehead puckered when she was thinking.

It wasn't like he hadn't noticed little things about Annabeth before—at this point, he was probably the master of creepy ogling. But now there was an urge that came along with letting his eyes drift over long blonde eyelashes. He wanted to memorize. It was like he was trying to take microscopic photos of each fine detail that made up Annabeth Chase, and he didn't want to leave a single part out. He traced her throat and shoulders with soft green eyes, stopping somewhere around her collarbone before his vision locked onto a place that would get him a knee to the groin.

Her eyes opened at some point, lazy gray slit only enough to watch him watch her. She blinked slowly when he noticed he had her attention. A few weeks ago, she might have blushed at his eyes on her—hell, he might have blushed at being caught—but it hadn't been like that lately. At some point, they had become immune to feeling awkward about simple actions like brushing skin and lingering eyes.

"Tell me what you're thinking," she said, nudging his knee with her own.

"Hmm?" he hummed, kneeing her in return.

"You've got a look."

"I do not."

"You do, too." She raised her eyebrows, reaching a hand forward to brush his jaw. Unthinkingly, he leaned into the promised comfort, pressing a kiss into the skin of her palm.

"There's a lot to think about," he told her, weakly attempting to avoid the question. It wasn't so much as he was opposed to telling her his thoughts as he was ignoring them altogether. "Can you blame me?"

Sighing a little something like acceptance, she nodded. "I guess I understand what you mean."

It was quiet for a beat, both lost in their thoughts, because surely there was plenty to think about. Sometimes he wondered whether all of this was worth it—letting everything hang in the balance for some cliché summer romance like his mom always said she'd write novels about. He didn't know what the future held for him and what autumn would feel like once he was finally back home, but something told him his guess was dead-on when he thought it would suck.

Was everything he started with Annabeth worth the promise of pain headed his way? Maybe it was a no-brainer to anyone else, but Percy truly didn't know what to think, especially because he'd been known for making the exact wrong decision whenever possible. His reluctance hadn't held them back so far, seeing that they'd been growing closer with each passing day, and maybe he was nuts for even thinking he should regret something that made him so happy.

Because, yeah, Annabeth really did make Percy happy. Like hiding under his mom's desk and eating the candy she always kept stocked in the drawers, happy. He couldn't help to think his time with Annabeth would be considered the "good old days," and God if that wasn't a shame to reach his peak at seventeen years old.

"I've been thinking," Annabeth admitted.

"I can tell," Percy said, looking her way. When she raised an eyebrow, he explained with a teasing shrug. "You've got a look."

"Very funny." She smiled for a moment, but then turned serious. "Percy, you need to call Rachel."

The surprise at her words elicited a strangled noise out of him. "Uh...what?" They'd had their fair share of conversation about Percy's ex-girlfriend, and he'd even opened up to her about his and Rachel's falling out one night. But her words took him off guard.

"You heard me." She rolled her eyes. Something he noticed she did a lot more often when he was around.

Percy rolled his shoulders uncomfortably, sliding a hand through his bangs and pushing the black strands away from his eyes. "I don't think calling her would make much of a difference."

Annabeth's expression was dry. "You need to talk to her. Explain yourself. You were right in coming out and being honest with her, but you need to follow through. Don't let her think you gave up on her."

With a sigh, Percy tried not to agree with his girlfriend's logic. Everything that had happened between him and Rachel left bruises he wasn't sure would fade until he cleared the air. "I thought you were the jealous type..." He muttered, running a hand over his face. "Where is that side of you when I need her?"

She glared, although the effort was halfhearted. "I'm not the jealous type."

"You're right. Now that you mention it, you're not argumentative either. Or blonde, or cute..." When her glare intensified, he tweaked her nose to let her know he was only joking—and hopefully to avoid injury.

Softening, Annabeth pushed his hand away from her face, placing it in her lap gently. "You've got so much on your plate already. I think you'll feel less overwhelmed if you settle this. She was your girlfriend, Percy, but she was your best friend first."

There weren't a lot of times Annabeth lost arguments (never) and this was definitely not one of those rare experiences. With everything impending, Percy supposed he could give it a shot, if only to say he tried. "Fine. If it gets you off my back..."

A sharp glare directed his way and Percy knew he'd said the right thing in the wrong way, but maybe that was his intention in the first place.

"I'll hurt you, Percy Jackson. Don't think I won't."

His smile was soft. "Believe me, I know you will."

…

A few hours later, Percy found himself sitting at the familiar bench downtown, cell phone in hand. He climbed atop the wooden backrest, lifting the hunk of metal into the air to achieve a signal, knowing he succeeded once it whirred to life in a flurry of incoming text messages and e-mails. It had been a while since he last checked it, he remembered sheepishly.

None of the messages struck him as important, so he focused on placing a call while trying not to fall off the bench he stood perched on. Finding Rachel's name in his phone book was simple enough, he tapped her contact with a moment's hesitation and waited with a fluttering stomach as the line rang.

Jason's truck was parked off to the left, and had it been earlier in the day, the sun would have beat down hot and sticky on Percy's neck. But the air was cool, the bright sun's beams were dimming now, and he felt contented by the drifting daylight. Somewhere further away, he could hear grass rustling and faint chatter, the voices of townsfolk and their neighbors conversing over shared jugs of sweet tea and half full shopping baskets. A sense of belonging clung to him as he watched a couple stroll past his awkward stance, sending nothing but smiles and friendly waves his way.

When the phone in his hand began to ring, the connection was choppy. But Percy heard clear as day when the line picked up. The ringing cut off and there was only silence on the other end. He waited, knowing Rachel Dare would speak when she knew what she wanted to say.

"Percy." It wasn't a question, and he wondered for a moment what her reaction could have been once she saw his name pop onto her caller ID. "Wow."

"Hey, Rach."

Again, she left him hanging for a few moments while Percy controlled his breathing. When was the last time he felt this nervous—Annabeth's birthday? Rachel was Percy's friend, he never would have thought she could make him feel unraveled this way. "It's been a while."

Wincing, he awkwardly rushed to explain. "Geez—Yeah, I know. My fault. Sorry."

"Don't be sorry; that's not what I meant." He could imagine her twisting a red curl around her finger, biting her lip as she thought of what to say. "How've you been?"

"Uh—I'm alright. I mean, well—I'm really tan."

When she snorted, a little part of his chest loosened and he felt his lip curling up. "That's good to hear, Perce. I'm sure all the sunbathing has done your skin some good."

"It has," he agreed with a small laugh. "But... I didn't really call you to talk about my complexion—though I know that's a riveting topic."

"Hmm," she considered jokingly. "I think I'd rather keep talking about your tan. C'mon—help your freckled friend out. Tell me the wonders of standing beneath the sun and not burning like an ant under a magnifying glass."

As she called him her friend—or rather called herself his friend, but what was the difference, really?—he felt a little confidence drip into his system like an IV needle to his soft inner elbow. Little by little, he built up the nerve to mention the reason he called in the first place. The unspoken tension between them was threatening to strangle him, and he needed to clear the air as soon as possible. He needed to speak before he lost all courage.

"Rachel, I know you know I didn't call to talk about your freckles. Though I would love to later if you gave me the chance."

Slowly, a sigh sounded from her end, and he heard her make a noise that sounded something like agreement. She knew just as well as he did that there wasn't a way for them to go about their friendship without feeling the cold claws of regret snake between them. The elephant needed to be addressed.

There was a certain level of hesitation Percy needed to break through, knowing what he was getting himself into. He was opening a door to a conversation that was equally painful as it was awkward, and he never gave anything in his life this much energy or focus. He was serious about fixing things with Rachel, and for some reason, it felt like the first time he ever gave her what she truly deserved.

"Rachel, do you..." He paused, nervous, before starting again. "Do you think I cheated on you?"

"No."

He let out a breath, squeezing his eyes shut. "Rach," he pleaded. "Does it feel like it?"

Another pause, then—"Yes."

His stomach twisted. "I—I'm sorry."

"I know you are."

Maybe she did. Rachel would have known it was never his intention to hurt her. She knew him well enough to understand that while she had still been holding onto the relationship that wasn't there, Percy had separated himself, no longer invested the same way he had previously been. Loyal as he was, he'd never intentionally betray her, and somewhere inside of her, she knew that. Only afterwards he had realized what could have been—what was true—that they, while technically separated, weren't on the same page. Percy had abandoned her.

He blamed himself. It was on his own hands that Rachel was left alone, without her best friend, or her boyfriend. He could only imagine the things he put her through this summer in his tactless, selfish actions. It wasn't the first time Percy'd done this; weeks back, he'd been made known that Annabeth overheard his conversation at the library. He learned that he had hurt her without knowing, without meaning, and wasn't able to take back what he'd said in a moment of hasty defense and denial. He wasn't able to erase the mark he'd left on her self-confidence. And that was something that still burned him to this day, the sting of regret was fresh in his own self-inflicted wounds.

Could he apologize? It didn't seem worthy enough of the trouble he'd caused. "God, I hate this. I hate that I let this happen."

She sighed. "I'm not going to say it was okay—because it wasn't—but you're not the only one at fault here. Miscommunication goes both ways."

"I could have done better, though. I'm sorry."

"Yeah, you could have done better. And so could I."

"This isn't your fault."

Her voice was quiet as she continued, almost as if she hadn't thought the words before she spoke them, and the volume would drown out what she might soon regret. "Maybe it is. Part of me thinks if I could have been more for you, this wouldn't have been a problem. Maybe I'm wrong, but maybe I'm right, too. At least a little."

His body rejected her words immediately, tensing his shoulders and tightening his gut. The guilt that hit him in that moment felt like being body slammed by freight train. Percy was Rachel's best friend, maybe he didn't hold that title in current circumstances, but somewhere inside, he'd always be her gap-toothed, goofy freshman hiding behind a ficus plant at Silena Beauregard's back-to-school rager. And for that, he recognized the insecurity bleeding into her words, stomping over the truth and masking reality from her. He couldn't get his tongue working fast enough to reply.

"No—You couldn't be more wrong." He took a deep breath, squeezing his fists and shutting his eyes as he thought of a response that explained exactly what he wanted her to know; wanted her to understand. "God, I hate to use the bullshit 'it's not you, it's me' speech, but Rach, this wasn't because of you. None of this is on you. Annabeth... she's something I wasn't prepared for. And what I feel for her has nothing to do with being... bored or unsatisfied. That's not what any of this is about."

For a few moments, the other end of the line was quiet as Rachel took in what he said. The static hum of silence whistling through his speaker was deafening. "Rach?" he prompted, letting his control slip.

"You're starting to sound whipped," she cooed jokingly, and he could imagine her wide grin and round cheeks. But there was that strain in her voice again, one he was becoming far too familiar with, and it cracked something in his chest.

"Rachel-"

"I'm fine," she said this time, false happiness absent. But there was still an exhaustion in her voice that he wasn't fond of. "I really hope you're happy, Percy. That's it."

He paused for a moment. "I am."

"Then I'll be fine. As long as you don't pitch a tent and make a home for yourself down there, I'm fine knowing you'll be back home soon," she joked, but he could sense some truth in her words. "I wish I could see you sooner… I miss you a lot, ya big dummy." The line crackled with the combination of her voice and the sudden sound of her bedroom door swinging open. Percy recognized it easily, one more familiar sound of his past leaving a bite of nostalgia in its wake.

Only making out hushed static after that, he sat down onto the bench, propping his elbow against the backrest to support his head. He let himself reflect, wondering if he could have explained himself better. But Rachel was talking again within a few seconds. "I need to go to dinner, Perce. I'll have to talk to you another time. But... I'm glad we got to do this."

Percy felt a smile creep onto his lips, even if his stomach still churned from the conversation they'd just shared. Though his shoulders felt lighter and his smile felt easier all the same. His words were true when he said, "I am, too, Rach. Enjoy dinner."

"I will," she responded softly. It sounded like she was about to hang up, but after a few moments, she tacked on, "And Percy?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't wait another month and a half before you call me again, alright?"

If The Creek Don't Rise - Dylan LeBlanc

hey so i guess i'm back from the dead

thanks to all you losers out there who are cheering me on and helping me get shit done