They're still being friendly.
Three weeks into the school year, and people have not yet given up on Annabeth and Percy as lost causes. It's a little unnerving – Annabeth would never have predicted that mortals would be so persistent when it came to friendship. At all the schools she's ever attended, she avoided people, and they did the same to her. It was easiest, after all, not to get too many people interested in her affairs. It made for fewer lies she would have to tell.
But now, she and Percy are having more difficulty avoiding mortal friendships than ever before. Jason is continuously friendly to Percy in the morning, and he grins at Annabeth when he sees her in the hall. Even a couple of girls in her AP English class are starting to make advances toward her – saying hi to her every morning, calling her name before she can book it out of the classroom and making small talk.
She doesn't understand why the mortals aren't scared off – the increasingly dark shadows under both of their eyes that indicate their chronic insomnia should be something of a giveaway that they're both pretty damaged, right? Annabeth feels so stiff around other people – and she knows Percy does, too – that they should be able to read her experiences from her mind without a word from her. And yet, the mortals keep trying to be their friends.
This is not comfortable territory. Everything inside of Annabeth is screaming, Abort!
But she can't do that.
Because as much as she sometimes wants to leave this school and the world and flee to camp where – although it's filled with reminders of the demigod world – she can be her whole self without having to glance over her shoulder all the time, without having to make sure Percy's constantly at her side – as much as she desires that, she is also starting to realize that she wants to live a normal life. She wants to move past everything that has happened and become a whole and happy person who's able to mix with mortals and who doesn't have gods nosing into her affairs all the time.
And if she wants that to happen, she has to learn to live in the mortal world.
It's awkward and uncomfortable and she doesn't want to get into a position where she'll have to think about and care for these people – but at the same time, she wants it to happen.
It's a confusing dichotomy of the mind, and she's not sure what to do with it, but it's there.
And sure, she has Reyna and the rest of the Seven; she has Rachel and Grover and Percy – of course she'll always have Percy – but if she wants to live a normal life she'll have to learn how to trust people, right?
Right?
Natural things should come naturally, right? This does not.
But in this third week of school, posters start appearing all over the walls – on the bulletin boards, giant ones on butcher paper on the wall of the cafeteria. Soon, the same word starts popping up in every conversation she overhears, gliding over the heads of people in the hall, blaring out over the morning announcements. Homecoming.
"We're not going," she tells Percy the first day they hear about it, when they're sitting together at lunch. She doesn't ask, Are we going? Because they are not.
He nods. "I know," he says.
There's a moment when she knows they're both picturing it – crowds of sweaty, sticky people; loud music and flashing lights, overstimulation for every instinct they have; dancing crowds pushing them apart, unable to find one another again – separated from Percy, lost in darkness –
She lets out a little gasp and reaches across the table for Percy's hand; his fingers lock onto hers and his grip is tight enough to tell her he was thinking the same thing.
She shakes herself out of it, trying to ignore the way her heart is suddenly thudding in her ears and cold sweat is beading at her temples. "Nope," she says decisively, although her fast breathing robs the word of its strength.
"Nope," he agrees.
...
"Are you going?"
Jason's voice comes from the table over. He's kept up the talking to Percy even after their King Lear assignment was finished and turned in – and he's persistent enough that Percy's walls are starting to crumble.
"Going where?" he says, though, confused.
"Homecoming, duh!" Jason grins at him. "What else?"
"Oh." Percy realizes that he was right; it is pretty obvious what he was asking. "Uh, no."
"Why not?" Jason looks surprised. "You've got a girlfriend and everything. Doesn't Annabeth want to go?"
Percy almost wants to laugh at that. On the list of Things Annabeth Definitely Doesn't Want to Do, Homecoming is probably number one. But he should probably cut Jason some slack. He doesn't know why Percy and Annabeth are so averse to everything social. So instead of laughing, he just says, "Not really her thing."
"Fair enough." Jason shrugs. "But it should be fun."
Usually, this is where Percy would have left the conversation, having fulfilled his social duty. But today, he decides to take a risk and keep going. "Do you have a date?"
Jason looks surprised, but recovers himself admirably quickly. "Working on one." His voice sinks. "You know Emma?"
"The cheerleader?" Percy casts his eyes across the room at where she's sitting, giggling, with her friend Hayley.
Jason nods. "I'm asking her. Actually, I have it all planned out – want to help?"
Percy doesn't know what's gotten into him today – but whatever reckless spirit it is has seized his head and is jerking it up and down. "Tell me what to do."
Somehow, despite a few years of high school, Percy has missed just how extravagant people can be when asking others to dances. Sure, he saw the occasional large sign reading, "HOMECOMING?" taped to a locker, and heard the occasional applause when someone said yes to an invite, but he hasn't realized how grand the whole affair actually is. At least, not until he hears Jason's plan.
...
"We're doing what?" Annabeth asks him at lunch, staring, after he tells her what he's volunteered them for.
He sighs, drags a hand through his hair. "Jason's asking this girl Emma to Homecoming," he explains again. "He wants this gauntlet of couples standing in the hall outside her sixth-period class. We don't actually have to do anything; we just have to stand there and hold signs up. Apparently he's going to do the rest."
"Di immortales," Annabeth says, looking impressed despite herself. "These mortals really go over the top for dances, don't they?"
He shrugs, but he knows that was her agreeing to help. "Guess so," he says. "So I'll tell Jason we're in?"
She nods, rolling her eyes. "As long as you promise never to do something like that for me."
He glances around to make sure no one is watching and sneaks a kiss. "Promise," he says. On the Styx, he doesn't say, and he can tell she's grateful for that. Not that he's still thinking about oaths or anything –
So the next day they're standing outside Emma's sixth-period class – the teacher having been asked to delay her for a few minutes so they can get into formation – with three other couples. Jason is directing operations – they stand a few feet apart; boys on one side, girls on the other. Each couple holds a piece of paper between them, which they will drop when Emma walks through the gauntlet.
Percy and Annabeth are the second set; their paper reads, "Homecoming." And despite both of their initial doubt about this, they are both starting to think that it's pretty sweet after all – if a lot more extravagant than suits their tastes.
The door to the classroom opens; Emma walks out, and her jaw drops.
The first couple, holding the sign with her name, beckon her forward. As she approaches, they drop the paper to the floor and she keeps walking, her hands now over her mouth. She gets closer to Percy and Annabeth; they drop their sign and as she walks between them, they hear her laughing breathlessly.
She passes the couple behind them – WITH – and the last set – ME – and makes her way to the end, where Jason is standing, holding a bouquet of carnations.
"So, Emma?" he asks. Percy can't see Emma's face, but Jason is smiling hopefully. "Will you go to Homecoming with me?"
"I – yeah. Of course I will." She hugs him, and the hallway bursts into spontaneous applause.
Annabeth catches Percy's wrist and the two of them leave, Percy tossing a grin to Jason as they slip away from the scene and start for home. And as they walk out the door, he finds himself smiling a little wistfully at the thought – at these people who are so invested in this dance, at the normal mortal lives that he and Annabeth have never had.
This is the first thing that makes him want to go to the dance after all.
...
Of all people, it's Hazel who first plants the seed in Annabeth's mind. She, Reyna, and Frank have just finished their weekly Iris-message, but for once the girls don't have any responsibilities and Percy is doing his homework so he doesn't need Annabeth for anything. So Frank has (wisely) fled the scene, and Annabeth, Reyna, and Hazel are sitting and having some good, old-fashioned girl talk.
(Well, good old-fashioned girl talk probably doesn't include weapons and armor, but that's just a technicality)
Eventually the conversation turns to school, and neither of them has ever gone to a non-mythology-related school in the 21st century, so they – especially Hazel – are peppering Annabeth with questions. They've talked about the classes, about Percy's tutoring sessions, about homework –
"Are the stories about school dances true?" asks Hazel suddenly. "Like the ones you see in movies?"
"Getting your crash-course in the new millennium?" teases Annabeth. "Who's been showing you these movies?"
Hazel's dark skin doesn't reveal blushes easily, but the way she ducks her head serves as enough of an indicator. Reyna raises her eyebrows at Annabeth. "Who do you think? My fellow praetor is often requesting nights off to go to the New Rome theater."
Hazel groans, falling backwards until she lies splayed on the floor where she and Reyna are. Annabeth rocks upward to her knees to get a better look at her. "Hazel, you know we're just teasing you. It's sweet that you and Frank go to the movies."
"Until he starts skipping out on paperwork" –
"Shush, Reyna." Annabeth pretends to swat at her, stopping before she can hit the Iris-message and break the connection. "You know he wouldn't do that. And Hazel, to answer your question, yes. People are getting ready for a dance right now, actually – Homecoming." She describes the hubbub in the school, and Jason's elaborate plan to ask the cheerleader to the dance.
"He actually did that?"
"His name is Jason?"
Annabeth nods, smirking. "Yes, his name is Jason, and yes, he's put forth a ton of effort to get Percy to be his friend. It's hilarious, really."
"Are you and Percy going to the dance?" asks Reyna.
Annabeth leans back on the heels of her hands, pressing them into the carpet. "No," she says. "We don't want to draw attention to ourselves or, I don't know, risk getting attacked or something. Plus, dances are . . ." She pauses, thinking about the hot-and-sticky dance floor, the odd lighting – too reminiscent of a place she wants to forget. "Not our thing," she finishes, hoping that will suffice.
Hazel nods. "I understand," she says. "I doubt I'd want to go either. But maybe it would be fun." Annabeth raises her eyebrows, and Hazel shrugs. "Maybe not – but you two did want to live a normal life. It could be okay to see how the mortals behave in high school."
The conversation shifts tack pretty quickly after that, and neither Hazel nor Reyna pushes the dance any further. But, unbeknownst to the other two, when they "hang up," Annabeth is pondering it.
Rachel calls her then, barely five minutes after she has ended her other message. Unlike the others, though, Rachel calls on the phone (the landline, since she knows the dangers posed by Annabeth's cell phone), and Sally hands it to Annabeth.
"Hello?" she says cautiously, unsure of who would be calling her.
"So, I heard there was a dance that you were thinking of not going to." Rachel's voice rings through the phone, with that all-knowing air she uses so often.
"Rachel, the Oracle is gone. You can no longer get away with that I-know-something-you-don't-know act."
"Fine." Rachel huffs. "Make fun of the Oracle losing her agency, why don't you? So Hazel and Reyna told me. But that doesn't matter. The point is that you should go to this dance."
"Why?" Annabeth challenges. "I bet you never went to a Goode dance."
"Very true. That is because dances are silly and pointless and do not do any good for the community, and I scorned them."
"Then you should understand" –
"Annabeth." Rachel's voice is gentle now. "I'm pretty sure saving the world counts as doing good for your community. It's okay to take a break every once in a while. You and Percy deserve to be normal teenagers for once in your lives. Going to this dance would be your opportunity to show everyone that everything that has happened to you hasn't made you weak."
Annabeth wants to reply – but Rachel has said everything that she's privately thinking. So she just falls silent for a few minutes.
"Think about it, okay?" says Rachel softly on the other line, and Annabeth does.
It's Piper who decides things – not surprisingly, really. Annabeth wants a second – well, third – opinion from her, and Percy walks into the room as they're talking.
"I think, as Aphrodite's daughter, it is my job to tell you to go to this dance," says Piper solemnly, staring deeply into Annabeth's eyes through the Iris-message. As Annabeth cracks up, Percy plops onto the floor next to her, and Piper turns to him. "I hear you guys are maybe planning to go to Homecoming?"
"Wait – we are?"
He turns to Annabeth, and instead of horror in his face she thinks she can see excitement. It gives her the courage to hunch her shoulders and mutter, "I was thinking about it."
"Really?" He slings an arm around her. "I was starting to think about it, too. Ever since that thing with Jason" –
"Wait, what about Jason?" Piper's voice cuts in; Annabeth turns back with a laugh to the Iris-message. She realizes they haven't told Piper about the other Jason yet.
"Ah, Piper," she says, starting to smile, "you're going to enjoy this . . ."