Never Be (Percabeth AU)
We'll never be as young as we are now
It's time to leave this old black and white town
Let's seize the day
Let's run away
Don't let the colors fade to gray
We'll never be as young as we are now.
~•~
Summary:
Annabeth Chase is headstrong and impulsive. She always fights for what she believes is right.
Percy Jackson has always been an outcast. He's the quiet, brooding kid in the back of the class.
These two are at each other's throats half the time. But what happens when they open up? Will they fit their broken pieces together? Or will they bury them deeper, pushing each other away?
DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the PJO or HOO characters. They all belong to Rick Riordan. This is a Percabeth Alternate Universe, meaning they ARE NOT DEMIGODS. Yeah. I also do not own any songs mentioned in this writing unless I say otherwise.
WARNING: This story contains mild language and mature content. It also contains mentions of bullying and abuse. None are meant to offend anyone.
Theme song: Never Be by 5 Seconds of Summer
FINISHED:
All Rights Reserved
Never Be (Percabeth AU)
1
Percy's POV
How did we end up talking
In the first place
You said you liked my Cobain shirt
Now we're walking
Back to you're place
You're telling me how you love that song about
Living on a prayer
I'm pretty sure we're halfway there
And when I wake up next to you
I wonder how
How did we end up here?
I walked through the busy streets of Manhattan as my music played in my right ear. I tried to walk as slow as possible– I was not ready to face crowds of people at school. It was the first and worst day of school. Summer had really ended and this sad reality set in as I trudged along. I wanted to get away from these people as much and as long as possible. I was just glad this is my last year having to put up with name calling and what not. But that day was nine months away. As for right now, I had to deal with the exclusion and the bullying, as I did every year.
Ever since freshman year at Goode High, I have been ruled the outcast, the freak, the emo who sits in the back of the class, the dangerously unstable loner. That's all thanks to Luke Castellan; a grade- A backstabbing, douchebag. In freshman year he had told everyone. I would say that I'm over it, because I don't hold unhealthy grudges, but I'd be lying to you terribly. And I hate liars. I mean, exhibit A: Luke.
People probably think that I'm unstable because I'm dyslexic and have ADHD. But I'm not mentally unstable. Those are all different things.
Unfortunately for me, the students at Goode are too stupid to know or care. One might say I've lived a difficult life; my dad died when I was six, my mom remarried to an abusive drunk, my ex-girlfriend did something that I don't really want to talk about, and everyone hates me.
Let's start with my dad. He was shipped off to be a Marine. My mom always said that he wanted to stay, but he couldn't– he was drafted. I still remember the day that he died. My mom getting the phone call. I remember peeking around the corner and watching her cry. I knew what had happened. I knew that even though my father promised he would come back, he wasn't coming home.
Don't want to talk about my first and probably last girlfriend.
And for our final topic: an abusive drunk for a step-dad. That's always fun. Gabe Ugliano is the disgusting man that my mother married for my sake; he brought in cash that we needed to pay rent, and tuition. My mom married him when I was eight, two years after my dad died. She was still sad about my father; I could tell. She never showed it, for my sake. The abuse started two years later; when I was ten. He would punch and slap me–as I got older, the beatings got worse. The worst one was when I was fifteen. He was really drunk, and really angry. He was pissed off about something like–
"Sorry."
I stopped short to avoid being run over. I looked to my left to see who had nearly killed me. It was a girl with wild, frizzy, blonde curls. She wore a black baseball cap over them, along with black ripped jeans, a white sleeveless t-shirt, and a red flannel tied around her waist. She looked to be around my age, with tanned skin, and fit.
"What the hell!" I yelled after her. She just kept riding her skateboard down the street. She looked back once and we locked eyes for a spit second. Her eyes were a stormy grey. They startled me, not gonna lie. Her gaze was powerful and intimidating. That was all I could catch in the brief seconds of eye contact. I shook my head and kept walking.
Eventually, and quite unfortunately, I made it to school. I walked up the steps and pushed through the doors.
Here we go.
"Mr. Jackson?"
"Uh, yeah. What was the question?"Shit. I had not been paying attention at all. Math was too hard, especially with dyslexia. And ADHD doesn't help– it makes me want to look out the window, or play with my pen instead.
"What is the answer to number six?" Mr. Defidion's gaze bore through me.
"Uh…" I fumbled with the pages of my math book. I wasn't even on the right page, This is exactly why I don't raise my hand. It's too stressful. I don't trust myself to even work in front of my classmates. How the hell am I supposed to talk in front of them?"Uh, C?"
"That is exactly… Wrong." Mr. Defidion said.
A few in the class gave snickers. One girl was particularly loud. Mr. Defidion was quick to catch her.
"Oh. . If this is so funny, then what is the answer?" turned his attention to the girl, as did everyone else, including myself. I
looked at her. It was the girl who nearly ran me over before.
Ha! I thought. Karma!
"Um. You see, here's the problem. I didn't do it,because, uh… I don't care." She stared at him blankly. Wow. This girl is either really stupid, or really brave.
"You don't care? Oh. Well I guess you don't care that you will be accompanying Mr. Jackson here in detention." He smiled sweetly at her.
She didn't say anything; she didn't have to. Her expression said it all;
What the hell.
She glared at me. I narrowed my eyes like what? And I glared straight back at her. She had the nerve. Whatever. I only had to deal with her for detention today and then I never have to look in her direction again if I don't want to.
I'll be fine…
I hope.
How'd we drift so far away
From where we left off yesterday?
I'm lonely like a cast away.
I was just sitting under the bleachers, where I always did, since freshman year, enjoying my lunch. I didn't bother to eat inside with everyone else. I'm sorry, correction: I didn't bother to eat inside, where everyone else was. If I did eat inside, I wouldn't be having lunch with anyone. They all hate me in some way. They made that very clear.
I moved on to my blue cookies; my mom's signature dish. She always makes me blue food. It's become a tradition since I was nine. Gabe told my mother that no food could be blue, so, in protest, she always makes blue food whenever she can. It's just something I've been accustomed to after so many years.
"Hey." This was not a friendly greeting. It sounded more aggressive, like, hey. I'm gonna beat you up if you don't do what I want. It gave off that sort of vibe. And it was female. So, to sum it all up, an aggressive female voice came from a few feet in front of me.
I looked up and pulled out one earbud. It was that girl who nearly killed me, then made fun of me. What was her last name? Chad? Chester? Chase! Chase, that's what it was. I scowled at her. She seemed unfazed.
"I was gonna sit there." She nodded at me. "Well, I beat you to it, three years ago. Bye." I turned my attention back to my lunch, putting the earbud back in my ear. Suddenly, both of the buds were ripped from my ears.
"What the hell?" I looked up at her, trying to show that I was pissed off. She was now squatting next to me, my earbuds in her hand.
"What are we going to do?" She asked
"We aren't going to do anything. You are going to leave me alone." I retorted.
"That's funny, because I remember saying I wanted to sit there." She smiled sweetly at first but then she gave me a death glare. I'm not going to lie; she had a very intense gaze. Part of me wanted to surrender, so that she wouldn't beat me up. But the other stubborn, impulsive part of me stood my ground.
"That's funny, because I remember saying no." I mocked her. She narrowed her eyes at me.
"Look, I can beat you up, or we can compromise. Which will it be?" She raised an eyebrow and cocked her head to the side, crossing her arms. She tapped her foot impatiently. Seeing her in that position, I suddenly became very aware of the fact that she could very well beat me up. She was fit- strong arms and toned abs. I could see her stomach from her white crop top.
I sat for a few minutes in grudging silence before sighing and shaking my head.
" Fine. We compromise."
"That's what I thought." She smirked and took a seat about three feet to my right. I watched her as she pulled a sketch book from her book bag, along with a pencil. She flipped through the pages and I saw beautiful art; people, faces, lips, fancy writing, sunsets, silhouettes, but mostly eyes. Some drawings were in pencil, others in color. She seemed like an amazing artist. But her work wasn't just in the sketch book; I noticed she had drawings on her left hand as well. She had a ton of little stars and planets, with a small spaceship. Tiny dots filled the empty spaces. I assumed she got bored in class and started drawing on herself. It looked pretty cool. It's a shame she's such an asshole. If she would lose the attitude, she seemed like she could be a pretty chill person.
"You done staring?" She didn't remove her eyes from the sketch she was working on.
"Uh-uh. I wasn't staring.." I stuttered. Nice one, Jackson." I'm just an observant person."
"Sure. But keep staring, and you might become a crippled person." She continued to drag the pencil along the page. She spoke her threat as if this was nothing new, like physically disabling people was a normal occurrence for her. It probably was. I wouldn't know though; I had never seen her before. She must be new.
I just continued to eat my lunch , listening to my music
Started on a weekend in May
I was looking for attention
Needed intervention
Felt somebody looking at me
Powder white complexion
Feeling the connection
The bell rang and I was the first one out of the classroom, earbuds already in, music already playing.
Young blood
So you want me
So you want me
Out of your life
And I'm just a dead man walking tonight
But you need it
Yeah you need it
All of the time, yeah