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Disclaimer: All rights to Rick Riordan.

Chapter Eight

Percy

"And my momma swore that she would never let herself forget. And that was the day that I promised I'd never sing of love if it does not exist. But darling, you are the only exception."

-"The Only Exception" by Paramore

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Usually, I get excited over a swim meet, but today, I'm more nervous than anything.

Maybe it's because it's our last meet. Maybe it's because the whole school will be watching. Or maybe it's because Annabeth Chase will be there.

I've never felt like this before. It's a strange feeling. Every time Annabeth laughs or smiles, I get a fuzzy feeling in my stomach. Heck, I get a fuzzy feeling in my stomach when she even looks at me.

Is this normal? Am I sick or something? I really hope not. Puking in the pool is not something on my bucketlist.

"Hey, Grover," I ask while closing my gym locker, "can I ask you something?"

The locker room is basically empty, but Grover looks around for people anyway, probably sensing the seriousness in my tone. "Yeah, man," he says. "Anything."

I take a deep breath as I sit on the bench next to him. "What do you think of Annabeth?"

Grover gives me a sly grin, one that makes me wonder why I'm talking to him about Annabeth, why I'm talking to him at all. "I think she's nice," he answers. "And cute."

At the word "cute" he shoots me a pointed look, which I deflect with a glare.

"Why are you asking, Perce?" Grover teases.

Suddenly, I regret starting this conversation. In an attempt to cover up my mistake, I say, "I was thinking of asking her to go to Montauk with us."

Grover's jaw drops. "Dude," he says slowly. "Montauk?"

My friends and I have been going to Montauk beach for years now. My mom rents us a nice cabin for us to stay at over spring break. My mom used to drive me and all of my friends down there, but ever since I turned sixteen and got my license, I've driven us down there. It's a break for all of us – no school, no homework, no curfew, no adults. It's just time to hang out as friends.

I can understand Grover's shock, though. We haven't invited a new person to go with us since we were freshmen. Frank had introduced us to eighth grader, Hazel Levesque, and she seemed so friendly and mature, that we decided to invite her. Ever since then, we haven't invited anybody to go with us.

To invite Annabeth would spread rumors around school about how the famous spring break beach trip had been crashed. To invite Annabeth would also make the whole school think that if they charmed me, I'd invite them too.

But really, is it such a bad idea? Now that I think about it, it actually sounds pretty good. Maybe I can figure out why I feel this way around her.

"Yeah," I say, speaking honestly now. "Montauk."

"But why?" Grover asks.

I shoot him a glare. "Why are you asking? Do you have something against her?"

Grover throws his hands up in a gesture of surrender. "No, no. That's not what I meant. I like Annabeth. I really do."

I immediately begin to blush. Of course Grover didn't mean it like that. And what was I doing, getting so protective over her? She's not even mine to get protective of.

"I know, I know," I say. "Sorry."

Grover shrugs. "I just meant why you, all of a sudden, want to have everything to do with her?"

"I don't," I spit back, my tone becoming defensive involuntarily. "I just thought it would be nice."

Grover snickers.

"What?" I demand.

"Nothing," he replies, hiding a smile. "I think it's a very nice thing to do."

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Swimming always has a way of wiping my mind clear of everything. It doesn't disappoint me now.

After talking with Grover, my mind was consumed with thoughts of Annabeth. It didn't help when I got out there and immediately spotted Annabeth.

On seeing her, my face lit up. I felt my eyes shining and and my lips pulled up in a smile. Without meaning to, I lifted my hand up and waved.

She didn't wave back. Instead, her face turned bright red. And for some reason, it mde me feel warm inside.

Now, up on the block, hunched over, ready to dive in any second, I wipe these thoughts out of my mind. I clear my head of everything except one thought: forward.

And that's where I go. Once the gun goes off, I dive into the crystal blue water and turn into a speed-swimming robot. My arms move, slicing through the water, pushing me forward, forward, forward, until I've taken the lead. Still, the only thought running through my head is, forward.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see another guy catching up to me. The chant that I've created – forward, forward, forward – is replaced with a new one: faster, faster, faster.

My lungs burn, yearning for air. My arms and legs ache, but I push myself harder, my two chants repeating themselves in my head. The wall appears in front of me. I prepare myself for the flip turn, tensing up my arms and legs. I get to the wall and do what I always do: I become one with the water. My tense muscles relax as I flip, then tighten again as I push off of the wall and start swimming back.

I don't see another guy around me, so I lift my head out of the water and refill my lungs with air. I hear the cheers from the crowd, hear them egging me on, and it reenergizes me. I duck my head back under and surge forward, swimming until I hit the wall where I first started.

I lift my head up out of the water and do my signature victory dance: treading water as I pump my fists in the air. So I guess it's not very signature.

Now that the first race is over, Annabeth appears in my thoughts. Dang, is that girl ever going to leave them?

The butterflies in my stomach give me my answer when I wink at her and she winks back: no. No, she's never going to leave my thoughts. A part of me is annoyed at this, but the part of me wonders if it's such a bad thing.

The rest of the races go well, with us winning winning them all except one, which we should've won. David obviously finished first.

After the meet, I change back into my regular clothes and congratulate all the guys on a great season and that I expect them to win state for me next year. It's kinda sad to think that this could be my last meet, unless I get a swimming scholarship to college. After looking around the locker room one last time, I walk out. And straight into Annabeth Chase.

"Oh, sorry!" I apologize, taking a step away from her. "Didn't see you there."

"Obviously," she teases, her face cherry red.

"What were you doing outside the guys' locker room?" I ask. Before I know what I'm saying, I go, "I don't think they'd let you in."

Annabeth's face gets even redder, which I didn't think was possible. "No, no, no, no, no," she protests rather quickly. "No, I was waiting for you."

"Oh, really?" I say, wiggling my eyebrows.

"Yeah, I wanted to congratulate you," she replies, then adds on quietly, "And I need a ride home."

"What, why?" I ask, though secretly happy that she asked me. "Did your friends abandon you?"

"Of the sort," she says, clearly irritated. "Silena's riding home with Beckendorf. While I was talking to those two, Reyna and Rachel, who were supposed to take me home, left without me."

"Oh," I say. "Great friends you have."

Annabeth snorted, as if to say, I know, right?

"Well, can I get a ride from you?" she asks, looking up at me with her wide, grey-like-cobblestones eyes.

"Yeah," I say, like I drive girls home all the time. "Sure."

Annabeth smiles. "Thanks."

As we walk to my car, we discuss the meet. I can't really concentrate, though. Annabeth is just so...alluring. Being with her makes me think of a movie my mom loves: Pride and Prejudice. Matthew Macfayden plays a guy named Mr. Darcy, who is a rich snob that falls in love with a girl named Elizabeth Bennet, played by Kiera Knightley, who happens to hate him. At one point in the movie, once they're both in love, Mr. Darcy tells Elizabeth, "You've bewitched me, body and soul, and I love, I love, I love you."

The movie always annoyed me. There can't be such a thing as love, right? Not when your father leaves you and your mom before you're even born, then your mom remarries an abusive jerk just so there can be another person providing money for us (although all it seemed like Smelly Gabe did was it around and drink beer). All this crumby, dumb love stuff is fake, something we humans make up.

But now, I'm realizing that the guy may have a point. Not about the "I love you" part, but the bewitched part. There are some people who are enticing, bewitching, who take over your inmost being. And Annabeth Chase is definitely one of those people.

"Percy?"

"Huh?" I say, pulling myself out of my thoughts and back to Annabeth, who's watching me expectantly.

She laughs, a sound that sends tingles all the way down to the tips of my toes. "I asked you how you felt you did today?" she explains, amusement poisoning her toes.

"Oh," I say. "Well, I guess I did okay."

"Really?" Annabeth asks. She stops walking, even though we're in the middle of a parking lot, and looks at me. "That's seriously your opinion?"

Her gaze is piercing, yet enticing. I can't look away. "I've had better days," I reply quietly.

She shakes her head. "Then I'd like to see you on those days. Because what I saw just now – that was incredible. Better than any high school or college swimmer. If you wanted too, you could probably take on the Olympic swimmers."

Her words ring with honesty. Of course, I've heard that same thing from others: coaches, family, friends. But coming from Annabeth, it felt different. It felt true.

"It's okay to say that you thought you did good," Annabeth continues. "It's not a crime. Don't be so hard on yourself."

"Okay," I say, smiling. She laughs.

We walk in silence until we get to my car. Annabeth stops and starts laughing. Like, authentic laughing, where she's clutching her stomach and doubling over.

"What?" I ask.

She doesn't answer until she's calmed down. "That's your car?"

I glance at my Ford pick-up truck. Yes, it's old, the blue color basically covered up by brown rust. The bed is still pretty clean though – I never used it for more than holding luggage when my mom and I went to Montauk for the weekend, just the two of us. I'm actually pretty proud of my truck. It's the result of years of working to get the money.

"Yeah," I say. "What's wrong with it?"

"Oh, nothing." Annabeth's eyes sparkle. "I just expected the great Percy Jackson to ride in something more...stylish."

"Well, not all popular guys ride in million dollar vehicles," I say defensively, though not really offended.

"Oh, so you admit you're popular."

"Shut up. Please, just shut up."

I walk over to the passenger side and open the door for Annabeth. She gets in the seat without a word, but a small smile plays on her lips.

"What is this?" I feign offense. "No thank you?"

Annabeth rolls her eyes with faux irritation. "Thank you."

I grin and close the door and hop into the bed, then hop out and get into the driver's seat.

As I start the truck, Annabeth watches me. "What?" I ask.

In reply, she just shakes her head and looks out the window.

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Turns out, Annabeth lives only about a block from me.

Annabeth acts different on the drive home – looser, more comfortable. I can't help but feel happy that it's me who's making her feel this way.

"So," I say, turning down the radio, "who's your favorite singer?"

"Hm," she says. "Probably Hunter Hayes. Or Taylor Swift. Or Adele."

"Indecisive, aren't we?" I tease, although I'm not the one to talk. I have probably fifty different favorite singers or bands.

"Oh, shut up."

Just then, her phone rings. She looks at me apologetically and answers. "Hello?"

I hear muffled voices on the other end and Annabeth rolls her eyes. "Yeah, thanks for that. And I got a ride from Percy."

Squealing. Lots of it. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Annabeth's ears go red. I chuckle and shake my head , keeping my eyes on the road.

"Yeah. Okay. Bye." Annabeth hangs up. Looking at me, she goes, "Sorry. That was Rachel and Reyna."

I grin, remembering the squealing. "Do they find me hunky and irresistable?"

"Really? 'Hunky'?"

"It was the first thing that popped into my head."

Annabeth laughs and we continue in silence. As we pass my apartment building, I ask, "So, is there another reason you came to New York?"

Something weird happens. Annabeth's face goes white and panic fills her eyes. Then, as quickly as it came, it's gone and her face is it's normal color with her regular nonchalant expression. "Nope," she says. "Just architecture."

"Oh." Another silence follows, but this one is more awkward. Annabeth shifts uncomfortably, then says, "This is my building up here."

I stop in front of a middle-class looking apartment building – not too fancy, but not too trashy. It isn't a tall building, maybe ten stories high. It's made of red brick, and the balconies are barred with golden bars. A carpeted walkway leads to the front doors, covered by a fancy canopy. A doorman is in the front, opening doors for people, which I think is a plus. It's definitely a place for braniacs to live.

"Thanks for driving me home," Annabeth says as she climbs out.

"Hey," I reply, "if your friends ever ditch you again, just give me a call."

She smiles – a genuine, joyful smile that makes the whole zoo stampede in my stomach. "Bye."

"Bye," I call, and she smiles again, then walks through the door into her building.

After she's gone, I lean back into my seat. Annabeth is something else, in a good way. No girl has ever had this effect on me. Not even Piper, who's the most beautiful girl at school. Whenever she's with me, I feel more alive. It's a scary, yet a satisfying feeling.

I blink my eyes a couple of times to bring myself out of my daze. I discover that I had been staring at the door that Annabeth had walked through and now the doorman is grinning at me, like he knows something I don't. I groan to myself and pull the car away from the building, away from Annabeth.

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I walk into my little apartment and am met with the smell of chocolate chip cookies.

I follow the smell and end up in the kitchen, where my mom is taking cookies off of the pan and putting them on a plate. I smile when I see that she dyed them blue.

As a kid, my stepdad, Gabe, told my mom that blue food didn't exist. My mom's rebellious streak decided to show itself in that situation, and she went out of her way to make blue food – blue cakes, blue eggs, even blue tortillas on taco nights. Because of this, blue became my favorite color because I always associated it with good memories.

"Hey, Mom," I say as I swipe a cookie off the plate.

"Good afternoon, Percy," she says. "How was your day?"

"Good. We won the swim meet."

A smile spreads across my mom's face. "Oh, Percy, that's wonderful! I wish I could've been there to see it."

My mom is a writer and she had a meeting with her editor during my meet. I didn't hold that against her; she had been there for for every other one, after all. "It's fine," I tell her. "You couldn't help it."

She smiles thankfully at me and continues scooping cookies in silence.

"Mom," I blurt out, "there's this girl at school who's making me feel nervous."

She scoops up the last cookie, then sets it down and turns to look at me. I'm surprised to see that her lips form a half smile. "What does it feel like?"

I shrug. "It's hard to explain. Whenever she smiles at me, I get butterflies in my stomach. Whenever she laughs, it sends tingles through me. When she asks for something, I feel a strong need to provide it. It's just, whenever I'm around her, I'm on edge."

"Oh, Percy," my mom says, her lips now forming a full-out smile. "If I didn't now better, I'd say you were in love."

My stomach sinks at the word "love". I feel my face turn red, so I escape to my room, leaving my mom alone to tell Paul when he gets home.

I can't be in love. It's not a real thing. It's the result of dreaming humans who are alone in the world. It's not real. Love isn't real.

Right?

Aw! Percy's in love! So cute! What's he gonna do?

Hope y'all have great Father's Day!

"Therefore, if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are becoming new." 2 Corinthians 5:17 (Thanks, ElmoDaHorse!)