a/n: hey girlies, bold is Annabeth, not-bold is piper

Annabeth

It starts with just another high school party.

Well... sort of—

That's when she falls out her window, anyway.

...

(12:28 am) ugh

(12:28 am) cops just showed up

(12:29 am) cant they let us live a little

(12:41 am) did u get home okay

(12:46 am) yedf

(12:46 am) luke drovhe em home

(12:47 am) luke drove u home?

(12:49 am) yeah

(12:49 am) what happened?

(12:49) r things good between u two yet?

(12:50 am) no

(12:50 am) this id so dumv

(12:50 am) i got in his car and he didngt eve TRY to ksis me

(12:51 am) :(

(12:51 am) im sorry

(12:51 am) do u want to talk?

(12:51 am) i can call u in a sec

(12:55 am) no its fine

(12:59 am) thsd is stupid

(1:02 am) rt

(1:02 am) but im here if u need anything

(1:22 am) remember to sleep on ur side!

...

Annabeth isn't sure what happened. She doesn't remember much, and what she does remember is exceptionally blurry.

She remembers drinking. She remembers crying. She remembers prying open her window and seeing a spider and then—

She's falling.

The world goes surprisingly still for one terrifying, unending moment of clarity before she tumbles into a bush in her front yard. The abrasive sensation of the branches is her last memory before her mind plunges into darkness.

"Oh good," she hears a vaguely familiar voice drawl. "You're awake—finally."

Annabeth's eyes snap open. Her stomach drops. Fear seizes her. She finds she has lost the ability to breathe.

The realization that the room around her is not her own momentarily incapacitating her. Her bedroom is white, clinical, clean—and this room is blue, worn, messy. There are posters littering the walls, the final remnants of boyhood. The light above her is on, intent on blinding her.

She does not have posters in her room. She is not a boy. She does not sleep with the light on.

She has been kidnapped. She is going to die—

Annabeth's blinks, feeling darkness flicker at the outer edges of her vision. Shock blurs her perception as she whips her head from side to side, spotting a dark figure. She blinks back panic, desperately trying to focus on the man. If she escapes, she'll want to have a detailed description for the police.

The man—boy, she realizes—is standing before her with his hands on his hips. He's staring at her. He looks bored.

Annabeth frowns, narrowing her eyes as her gaze catches on the familiar set of bright green eyes. Relief floods her body, spiraling into dreamlike euphoria.

"Percy," Annabeth sighs then, gasping for air. She throws her head back with a short laugh only to be accosted by a sharp headache. "Ugh," she groans loudly at the feeling, raising a hand to shield her light from the obstructive light above her. "What am I doing here?" she croaks, her mood turning sour again.

"You don't remember then?" Percy laughs, sitting down at the edge of his bed.

"Obviously not," Annabeth returns. She shuts her eyes, finding her hangover is far more stomachable when they're closed.

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised," Percy remarks flippantly. She can't see him but she knows he's smiling—no, not smiling, smirking. "You were barely coherent."

"Oh my god," Annabeth whines. There is a painful pounding resounding in her temples. Her tongue feels scratchy and dry in her mouth. "Look, I know I look pathetic right now—but can you just tell me what happened?"

"Fine," Percy agrees airily. She can feel his eyes on her as he begins to explain. "I was coming home last night, and just as I was walking up the driveway, I saw something falling through the air."

Annabeth squeezes her eyes shut even tighter. She thinks this might be some guilt-driven nightmare her subconscious thought up, but when she opens them a second later, he's still there.

"At first, I thought I imagined it," Percy laughs. The sound is warm and familiar. "But then, I heard a groan coming from the bushes."

Annabeth groans again, an embarrassed flush slithering over her cheekbones. She reaches for his pillow, intent on smothering herself before he can tell her anymore.

"Yes," Percy remarks with a chuckle, "just like that." She hears his voice grow distant. She thinks he must have turned away from her. "So I looked, and there you were, crying in your mom's hydrangeas."

Annabeth feels her chest compress, the weight of the cofent falling onto her shoulders. Her headache is suddenly only the second most painful feeling in her body. She decides to ignore it.

"I was crying?" she asks, her voice decidedly even.

"More like sobbing—wailing even," Percy informs with a shrug, seemingly equally as eager to dismiss the uncomfortable subject.

Annabeth rolls her eyes, prying them open to find him standing up from the bed. She throws his pillow at him, trying to lighten the mood. It seems to work as he grins—albeit begrudgingly—and catches the pillow before it can make an impact.

"I don't understand," she whispers, taking a deep breath and sitting up to face him. The navy sheets pool around her waist, revealing the same outfit she'd gone out in. She ignores the pinch of embarrassment in her chest at the realization. "How did I fall out a window?" Annabeth moans, digging her fingers into her temples as if to extract the information manually.

Percy doesn't answer—though he figures the question is rhetorical anyway. He turns away from her to slip on his jacket.

"I remember coming home," Annabeth begins slowly, tracing her night. "Then I remember I got a snack, and then I went upstairs and I—I think I wanted some fresh air," she frowns, the events coming back in pieces. "And then I opened the window, and I saw a spider and—oh."

She goes silent, the memories falling into place. She is abruptly acutely aware that she cried over her ex-boyfriend in front of Percy last night. She grits her teeth, shame mixing with her already overwhelming embarrassment to make a deadly cocktail.

"Still afraid of spiders then," Percy notes, smirking.

Annabeth looks up to find him watching her again—no, not watching, staring. And she knows—knows—she shouldn't bite. She knows she will only hurt herself in the long run—that's what her therapist told her anyway—but finds she can't quite hold herself back.

Her fists tighten around his sheets. Her jaw clicks.

How can she hold back when he's staring at her like—like that—staring at her like she needs to be saved, like he pities her?

"Wouldn't you like to know," Annabeth snaps.

Percy's brows jump with surprise. The sympathy hidden in his features gives way to annoyance, an emotion she is far more familiar with. She's relieved.

"I wouldn't actually," he returns with a tired sigh. He opens his door, leaning against the door frame. "I think I would much prefer if you vacated my room," he tells her cooly, checking the time on his phone. "I'm supposed to be meeting friends."

"I'm sure your loser friends can wait," Annabeth snorts without thinking.

She doesn't mean it. It's a force of habit, a movement marked so deeply into her muscle memory it has become second nature.

She bites her tongue, but it's too late. It's already left her mouth. It's already in the air. It's already reached him.

His features sharpen, a barely-there furrow appearing between his brows. She's gone too far. She can tell. She can always tell. He's always been like that with his friends—protective.

"Annabeth—" Percy bites back, his mouth going taut at the corners.

"Sorry," she interjects before he can get another word out. She throws him a sheepish smile, but he still looks upset. "I'll get going," she assures him, awkwardly hobbling out of his bed.

Annabeth can feel Percy watching her but convinces herself she doesn't care as she glances down at her legs. Her calves are littered with small scrapes and premature bruises. She brushes the remaining twigs from her skirt and tries to fix her hair. She glances around his room for a mirror, trying to ensure she doesn't look too ratty. She finds one only to be horrified by the tear-stained mascara coloring her cheekbones. She blinks, turning away from Percy, aghast as she hastily tries to rub away the mascara.

It's no use. The dark stains cling to her, intent on reminding her that her ex-boyfriend re-dumped her last night.

"Okay," she announces a second later, plastering a pleasant smile on her face. "I'm ready," she tells Percy with sickly sweet enthusiasm.

He doesn't say anything, doesn't move. He's still blocking the doorway. His lips are pressed together, pale with pressure. She recognizes the look almost immediately. He has something to say—something he worries won't go over well.

Annabeth assures herself that on any other day she would hear him out. If she weren't suffering from a horrendous hangover and didn't have tears staining her cheeks, she would be more compassionate. Yes, she convinces herself, any other day she'd hear him out—but today is not that day.

"Okay, bye," she declares then, trying to push past him to escape, but he stops her, blocking her path.

"Annabeth," he sighs, staring down at her.

"What?" Annabeth replies sharply, eyes trained forward, looking past his shoulder. She feels unusually small so close to him, like she's a child again. She takes a step back, crossing her arms.

He isn't speaking. His chest is hardly moving—like he's forgotten how to breathe.

"What?" Annabeth repeats through gritted teeth. She forces herself to look up at him and instantly regrets it when she sees his eyes. In his gaze, she recognizes the same splinter of pity, the same broken compassion that she'd always hated.

She feels her stomach turn at the sight. Her lips tighten, going paper-thin. Her muscles tense, preparing for the impact.

"Last night," Percy begins, looking distinctly uncomfortable. "You mentioned Luke," he tells her, "when you were—when you were crying."

Alarm bells are going on in Annabeth's head. She prays for him to stop. She prays for him to swallow his tongue or choke on his words.

"You know that I—" Percy breathes shakily, clearly struggling to get the words out.

Her eyes go blank. She feels an all too familiar flush creeping up the back of her neck. She has to stop him. She has to say something—

"I know perfectly well what you think of Luke and me," Annabeth cuts him off stiffly, trying to put an end to the subject.

"That's not what I meant," Percy insists, growing frustrated.

He looks worried. She hates it.

In the tense silence that follows, she can hear the clang of pots and pans downstairs. She can hear Percy's mom's voice carrying warmly through the house. She doesn't want to be here anymore. She wants to leave. She wants to go to her quiet house. She wants to be in her clean room. She wants to take a shower and forget about this entire week.

"What then?" Annabeth demands, feeling tears of embarrassment prick at her eyes. She shoves them down, determined not to cry—not again.

She can hear Sally sing downstairs, humming to show tunes. She feels nauseous.

Her therapist told her once that she has a tendency to snap at people when she feels defensive, but Annabeth thinks anyone would snap if they were in her position. She can't imagine there is a rational person on this earth who wouldn't feel something dark and sticky and—well, defensive when standing in front of their childhood crush, trying to convince they are fine when they are very decidedly not fine.

"Whatever," Annabeth utters under her breath. "It clearly isn't important."

She takes a deep breath, trying once more to shove past Percy who still isn't speaking. To her suprise, he lets up, allowing her to pass. The second she's out of his room, she rushes down the stairs. She hears Percy on her heels, following closely behind her. She feels his hand tug at her wrist but yanks it away, figuring she'd rather throw herself down the stairs than face the full effect of a condescending lecture.

"Percy—" Sally calls, then starts when she sees Annabeth at the bottom of the stairwell. Her eyes widen before narrowing slightly. "Oh," she says, smiling, "hello, Annabeth." The teapot behind her begins to whistle but she doesn't notice or doesn't care. "Did you sleep over?" she asks innocently.

"No," Annabeth assures her. "I just had to talk to Percy about something." She tries to return the affectionate expression but doesn't think it's very convincing. After all, even the warmest smile couldn't hide the mascara smeared beneath her eyes.

Sally's eyes dart to Percy who Annabeth can only assume nods behind her.

"Okay," Sally says finally, still not looking satisfied. "Have a great day!"

"You too," Annabeth returns brightly, exhaling deeply as she rushes towards the front door.

"Don't be a stranger!" Sally adds as she goes. "And tell your dad I say hello!"

"I will!" Annabeth lies, exhaling deeply when she reaches the front door. She yanks it open, pausing for a moment to feel the cool air wash over her.

"Annabeth—" Percy begins behind her, but she thinks she's had enough embarrassment for one morning.

"Thank you," she interrupts him, turning to face him with a tight smile. A chill travels up her bare legs, climbing up her spine, "for taking of me," she clarifies. "I would have hated for my father to have found me like—that."

"Yeah," Percy nods loosely. He's not looking at her anymore, shuffling his feet. She thinks she prefers him this way, disinterested. "Anything for an old friend," he remarks, and she can feel the sarcasm bleeding from his words.

"Yeah," Annabeth scoffs under her breath, rolling her eyes. God forbid she try to give him some credit. "Sure," she returns with equal sarcasm. "See you," she bids him, walking through his yard and into hers.

...

(10:13 am) just woke up

(10:13 am) how r u feeling?

(11:20 am) just saw luke at starbucks

(11:20 am) he looked HORRIBLE

(11:21 am) hungover but also VERY ugo

(11:49 am) annabeth im dying over here

(11:49 am) i NEED to know what happened last night

(11:49 am) PLS!

(12:04 pm) hey sorry

(12:04 pm) just saw these

(12:04 pm) youll never believe where i just woke up

(12:04 pm) omg what?

(12:05 pm) one sec

(12:05 pm) let me call u

...

"Hey," Annabeth answers tiredly, laying back against her perfectly made bed.

"Hey!" Piper replies frantically, but her voice is muffled, almost like she's whispering.

"Are you with someone?" Annabeth asks, raising a brow only to lower it a second later, finding the movement hurts her head too much.

"Yeah," Piper answers dismissively. Annabeth pictures her waving her hand about like she always does. "I was just with Drew, but I left so she won't hear any of the exciting drama."

"Oh my god, Piper," Annabeth sighs, smiling begrudgingly at the misplaced enthusiasm. "I would hardly call it drama."

"Of course, it's drama!" Piper exclaims with a scoff. "Whatever—I don't care what you call it—just tell me what happened with Luke!" she questions, anxiety hidden in between her words. "And what happened this morning? Did you wake up on the floor or something?"

"Luke and I..." Annabeth sighs, closing her eyes. "It's so stupid, Pipes."

"I'm sure that's not true," Piper replies, and Annabeth can hear the frown in her voice. "Just tell me."

"Fine," Annabeth breathes. "But you can't laugh."

"Do I ever laugh?" Piper returns with an offended sniff.

"No," Annabeth sighs, using her free hand to pinch at the bridge of her nose. "But—god—I'm so dumb sometimes—Luke was flirting with that horrible girl from Goode," she explains, "you know, that blonde cheerleader—and so I started drinking."

"Annabeth," Piper sighs, concern laced between her words. Annabeth finds she can stand it slightly more than Percy's.

"I know, I know," Annabeth dismisses quickly. "It's not healthy. Anyway though, right before the cops showed up, I was calling an uber, and Luke offered to drive me home. And you know what my drunk ass said?"

"Yes?" Piper laughs.

"No," Annabeth moans, cringing at the memory. "I said, where's your cheerleader? Why don't you give her a ride instead?"

"You said that?" Piper remarks, and Annabeth can hear the surprise in her voice.

"Something like that—it's all a little fuzzy," she shrugs. "Anyway, he just smiled and told me to get in—smiled—God," she lets out an exaggerated groan. "I fucking hate him—so I got into his car, right?"

"Naturally," Piper agrees.

"So we're driving home and he's sober—too sober—and I'm horrendously drunk and I'm just babbling on and on about random facts—you know, the way he always hated," Annabeth tells, pausing to take a breath before continuing. "But then we pass Hera's Diner, and I remind him that that's where we went on our first date."

"Mhm," Piper listens attentively.

"And all of a sudden," Annabeth sighs. She thinks Piper can probably hear the irritation in her tone. "He starts talking to me about special he is—explaining that he's damaged and no one understands him as I do."

"Yeah..." Piper entertains, not quite understanding.

"And when get my house," Annabeth describes, feeling her mouth go dry. "We park outside and we're talking about—about the future and he tells me how much he appreciates me and how he wants me in his life—needs me in his life—and then he leans forward and pushes my hair back and is like basically holding my face—"

She hears Piper suck in a breath, waiting.

"And then," Annabeth scoffs. "He says he needs space. He says I'm special, but he's not ready for special yet—"

"Oh, Annabeth," Piper gasps dramatically. "That's—"

"I know," Annabeth cuts her off. "It's absolute bullshit!"

"Well," Piper considers, a smile peeking into her tone. "At least you don't believe him."

"I wish I believed him," Annabeth laughs hollowly. "Maybe then I wouldn't be so angry. Then I wouldn't—wouldn't wonder what's wrong with me."

"There's nothing wrong with you Annabeth!" Piper insists, her voice growing stern. "Don't ever let anyone tell you any differently."

"I know but—"

"No buts!" Piper maintains. "Don't let him occupy any more of your time. He doesn't deserve it."

"I—" Annabeth sighs, nodding. "Yeah, you're right."

"Good," Piper states. "Now, let's change the subject. Why don't you tell me what happened to you this morning?"

"Oh," Annabeth exhales sharply. It's not quite a chuckle, but it's as close as she can get right now. "I woke up at Percy Jackson's house."

Piper is silent for a second. Annabeth pulls the phone away from her ears just in case she screams.

"What do you mean you woke up at his house?" Piper asks finally.

"Among my other idiotic decisions," Annabeth smiles, the memory of her stupidity at least bringing her a tad bit of joy. "The crowning jewel seems to have been openning my window and promptly falling out."

"You fell out your window?!" Piper hisses, worried. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine—I think," Annabeth tells her. "It's surprisingly difficult to distinguish between a concussion and a hangover, but at least there's no apparent permanent damage."

"How did you end up at Percy's?" Piper questions.

"I don't remember," Annabeth shrugs. She hears the glimmer of concern in Piper's questions but ignores it, finding the endeavor to be too much brainpower for her mind right now. "I guess he caught me—oh, wait no, a bush caught me—well, he found me and took me to his house. I didn't know until I woke up in his bed this morning."

"Did he—" Piper begins slowly. "Did he do anything?"

"Oh," Annabeth's eyes snap open at the implication. "No—don't worry, Piper. You don't know him very well, but I do—used to anyway. He's obnoxious yes, but he'd never hurt me. He—um—loved my mom too much."

"Oh," Piper says after a second. "Well good," she decides. "I'm glad he was around then."

"Yeah," Annabeth sighs, the alarm that struck her chest falling away. "Super weird to wake up to though."

"Sounds horribly unpleasant."

"Oh, trust me, it was."

a/n: hey girlies, so in my next installment of not listening to anyone's suggestions, I have made the unwise decision to begin a new story. remember when I said I had no plans of starting anything new, well I must have been lying because here I am. This will be formatted like dumb luck and hopefully hopefully will not be too long. also, this story is going to be t rated I think. I might change that in the future, but for now, it's feeling t-rated.

and is this story going to be horrendously cliche? yes, okay, I'll admit it. and yeah I'll fix the summary soon because it sucks as usual.

anyway, excited to hear what u guys think

as always, love u all