"Ugh." Annabeth scowled at her architecture notes.

Jason, her friend and for tonight, her study partner, leaned over and poked her in the forehead with the eraser end of his pencil. "Why are you looking at the doric columns like they've personally offended you?"

"Because they have." She muttered. "The fluting isn't right, and something about this angle… the weight-bearing capacity's off. And they're ionic columns. Doric don't have flutes."

"Right." Jason sighed. "I should probably… that's a thing I should be studying, isn't it."

Annabeth glanced up from her notes, blinking at him. "J, you're taking this class as an elective for a classics major. Do they even care about your grades?"

"I care about my grades, Annie."

She made a face at him. "Don't call me Annie, or I'll call your sister and get her to beat you up."

"I'm pretty sure you're plenty capable of beating me up yourself."

"True." Annabeth grinned. "Tell you what, whoever clears the highest height at practice today has to help the other study for a quiz."

"In architecture?" Jason raised an eyebrow.

"In any class. Of the winner's choosing." Annabeth grinned. "C'mon, you know you learn best by teaching others…"

"I also know your jumps have been two feet higher than mine all week." Jason frowned down at his notes. "But fine."

"Eh, it'll give you some incentive. Speaking of your sister," Annabeth pulled a folder out of her backpack and started depositing her notes inside, "I promised her I'd meet her before practice. See you there?"

Jason nodded, already reaching for a badly beaten-up copy of Ulysses. "I'm going to beat that PR today, just you wait."

"Waiting til the end of time, buddy." Annabeth reached over to offer a fist bump before getting up, leaving their chosen table in the library. She swung her backpack over one shoulder before walking towards the library towards, which opened out into a bright, sunny afternoon.

OOF.

She smacked right into someone as she left the library. "Oh my goodness, I'm so—"

"No, don't worry about it, I was looking at my phone instead of in front of my face." The guy she'd bumped into waved her off, giving her a funny look. "Hey, wait. Do I know you?"

Annabeth shook her head. "I don't think so?"

"Huh." The guy didn't look convinced. Annabeth gave him a quick scrutinizing look. Jeans with holes in the pockets, messy dark hair barely contained under a battered-up beanie, slight bruising under one green eye, skateboard tucked under one arm. Not exactly the type to hang with Annabeth's crowd, which meant that if he knew her, it was because—

She shook her head again and shoved her hands into the pockets of her denim jacket before the guy could make the connection. "Gotta go. Sorry again."

He stepped aside, wisely moving out of her way. Annabeth was tall, almost as tall as the guy when she pulled her shoulder's back, and she had the athletic shoulders and powerful legs of an all-star track-and-field athlete. People tended to get out of her way when she was in a hurry.

She stopped in at a "Starbucks: We Proudly Serve," stopped for a second to be annoyed that they didn't have Cinnamon Dolce syrup (because they never did), then ordered a hazelnut cappuccino and a white-chocolate-raspberry muffin and waited for her best friend.

Thalia was about five minutes late, because she was always about five minutes late. She came rushing into the Student Center with the force of a small hurricane that always accompanied her, arms full of paperwork but never carrying a backpack, choppy box-dye-black pixie cut clipped back with silver barrettes. "Hey, sorry I'm—"

Annabeth rolled her eyes. "Don't apologize for being late, Thals, if you thought I expected you to be on time after eight years of friendship then maybe you need to get checked for a concussion after all."

"I hit my head riding a bike into a tree one time—" Thalia made eye contact with Annabeth and the two burst out laughing.

"Go get one of your weird tea concoctions, Pinecone Face." Annabeth nudged her friend over to the coffee counter. "I've still got forty minutes before I have to change for practice."

"Ah yes, practice—because lest anyone forget that Annie is an athlete—"

Annabeth punched Thalia in the arm. "I swear, if you and your brother don't stop calling me that…"

"It's 'cause we love you." Thalia called over her shoulder, already walking towards the coffee counter line.

Annabeth and Thalia didn't get much time to hang out, after all. They'd been sipping their drinks for maybe fifteen minutes when Thalia's phone rang, the special ringtone designated for Title IX calls on campus—Thalia was an intern, and half the calls to that office routed back to her. Thalia flashed Annabeth an apologetic look and started gathering up her belongings.

"Yes—yes I understand—of course. No. I promise. Confidentiality. Look, why don't you come to the—yes, it's in Davis House—no, it'll be me and the—yes. Okay, I'll see you in ten minutes."

Annabeth raised an eyebrow. "Another one?"

Thalia nodded, mouth pressed into a thin line. "Yup. I swear, my job never gets easier. Love it though I do, these reports…"

"Just tell me it wasn't—"

"I can't, Annabeth." Thalia's voice dropped, softer in volume and tone. "Even if the confidentiality rules didn't… I'm not putting you through that. If his name comes through my office, I'm only telling you if it's public record."

Annabeth sighed. "That's… fair." She blinked up at her friend. "Have I mentioned lately that you're impressive and I'm proud as hell of you?

Thalia smiled, that same lopsided grin that she'd had back in ninth grade when she and Annabeth had teamed up together in dodgeball to beat all the boys in P.E. "Never hurts to hear it, so long as you know it goes both ways."

With Thalia gone for the afternoon, Annabeth had little to do besides drink the rest of her coffee and start walking towards the gym. The swim team had already started practice, and someone must have left the door to the pool open, because Annabeth could smell the chlorine permeating the hallway down to the locker room. She pulled her blonde curls back into a messy bun, tucked a thin headband around the edges to keep it out of her face, and changed into her pole vault practice clothes—skintight black shorts, black sports bra, bright blue tank top. She took her time wrapping braces around her wrists and setting a bruise-pad up against her elbow. she filled her water bottle, grabbed her spike bag and a protein bar from her locker, and pulled on her flat running shoes before heading outside to the track.

Since no one else was at practice yet, Annabeth took the chance to set up the pit—peeling off the thick tarp covering that protected it from the weather, putting a thick pad up around the metal box, and removing the poles that the team used from under the top layer of the pit. Dropping her bag next to the poles, she grabbed a pair of earbuds and her phone and started jogging around the track.

It didn't take long before Jason fell into step next to her, reaching over to tug one of Annabeth's earbuds out. "So I have news."

Annabeth frowned, pulling the other earbud out and wrapping them around her phone and wrist and continuing to jog. "What's up?"

"I met a girl." Jason grinned.

Annabeth elbowed him in the side. "You live on a college campus in a coed hall, you meet tons of girls."

"This one's different."

"J, I saw you an hour ago. How much can possibly have happened in an hour?"

Having looped back around the pole vault pit, they both stopped, sweating just the right amount for a warmup.

Jason reached for his water and took a sip. "She was mean to me. It was great."

Annabeth raised an eyebrow. "You mean she resisted the blond-wonder-boy-halo? Good heavens. Tell me everything."

"Her name's Piper. I asked for her number and she told me she knew who I was but I'd never get her to go out with me unless I could prove I did something more interesting than golf on the weekends." Jason scowled. "I am more interesting than that. Right?"

Annabeth laughed. "Yeah, but you don't look it. I'm sorry, classics major? 4.0? The one time I saw you not wearing a collared shirt to practice it was still Vineyard Vines?"

"Hm." Jason crossed his arms before leaning over to stretch. "Maybe I do need some spicing up a bit."

"Sure, bland blond boy, sure." Annabeth kicked up into a handstand, trying to warm up her shoulders. "See if you can find me a date while you're at it so I can double with you guys; I've gotta meet anyone who had the guts to be mean to you."

Jason's eyes widened. "Oh, god, there are going to be two of you."

"Three." Annabeth corrected him. "Don't count your sister out. I mean your real sister, not just me-who-lives-in-your-house-more-than-my-own."

Jason sighed. "See, this is the real reason you need to find a boy. Maybe it'll distract you from interfering with my dating life."

"Keep dreaming, Blondie Boy." Annabeth let herself down from the handstand and reached for her track spikes to mark out her steps for practice. "Dating someone or not, you're not going to stop me from bothering you about this."

Jason sighed and grabbed his own shoes, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like "gonna have to find you a boyfriend just to keep you from forming a diabolical alliance with my sister and all girls I'm ever gonna date ever."

Annabeth flew down the runway to the pit, pole in hand, disregarding whatever matchmaking plans Jason might have had. Run, plant, push, turn, let go. No boys, no distractions. That had ended badly enough the last time.

Welcome! I've had this one rattling around in my brain for a long time. If I'm guessing right, this one might end up being novel-length- so if you enjoy this one, please go ahead and give it a follow; I'm planning for weekly or biweekly updates.
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