~ * Art of Observation ~ *
Chapter Three
Percy woke up the next morning with a smile on his face and a whistle on his lips. It was ungodly early in the morning but he found he didn't mind so much. Turns out fake dating his neighbor was good for his mood—who knew? Maybe it was the excitement of it, Percy mused as he rummaged through his fridge for breakfast. He poured a bowl of store brand Lucky Charms knockoffs, chugging orange juice straight from the container. He ate in record time, pulling on his jeans and shoes as he swallowed the last few spoonfuls of breakfast before grabbing his photography gear and lighting out.
He half jogged to Central Park, wishing he could enjoy the chill of the near autumn air. The sun had only started to rise when he left the house and it was barely peeking out from behind the rich green of the trees by the time he finished setting up his gear. He had two clients today and one meeting with a potential client.
His seven o'clock was forty-five minutes late when Mrs. Tanaka and her twenty-three-year-old daughter Drew finally decided to grace him with their presence. Percy forced a smile, which he was sure was slightly manic and showed too many teeth, as they drew (ha) closer. The mother-daughter duo was dressed to the nines, both strutting over in sleek stilettos, designer handbags swinging at their sides, and Percy was willing to bet his meager life savings that their sparkling earrings were made from real diamonds. Mr. Tanaka was some big shot New York businessman who was throwing an expensive party at the end of the month in celebration of closing of some business deal he clinched and decided that the invites should be graced with pictures of his beautiful daughter or something stupid like that. Not that Percy could really complain—he was getting paid after all.
"Did you not get my last email confirming the time?" Percy asked through his excessively toothy smile.
The mother looked him up and down, her eyes slowly raking over his faded jeans and a half-worn through shirt.
"Yes," she replied shortly, turning to fuss with her daughter's hair and began sprouting out instructions for the shoot.
He was kneeling at an awkward thirty-five-degree angle, trying to capture Drew's 'good side' and somehow keep the midmorning glow of the sun align with the treetops when his phone buzzed. His heart leapt in his chest at the faint buzzing and he firmly told it to shove off, swallowing hard as his camera shuttered. It was probably just Leo asking to hang out that weekend or Triton asking where his spare key was (under his mother's welcome mat, obviously).
That didn't stop him from whipping the stupid thing out at breakneck speed twenty minutes later when Mrs. Tanaka took a break to blatantly add padding to her daughter's bra. His heart jumped right back up to his Adam's apple when the phone flashed unrecognized number:
Hey, it's Annabeth, this is my number.
Percy grinned widely, cradling his camera carefully between his elbow and body to free a hand to type back. He faltered, his fingers hovering over the keys. What should he say back? A simple one-word answer like cool? No, no, that was lame. Nice to have your number. That was awkward, yikes. How are your parents? Was that trying too hard?
Buzzz.
Are you free tonight?
Percy blinked, then blinked again. He bunched himself over so his shadow fell over the screen to make sure the sun wasn't blurring any of the words. It still read the same: Are you free tonight?
It's a fake date, Percy firmly reminded himself, but the rest of his body seemed to have forgotten this. His sweaty hands quickly typed back, free as Willy, his heart pounding so loud he was sure the Tanakas would hear it. He only winced at his own nerdy weirdness after his thumb pressed down on the send key, but there was no going back.
Buzz.
My parents want to eat at Sant Ambroeus
Right . . . fake meeting the parents of his fake girlfriend. Percy's heart sank right down around his colon somewhere and tucked itself away, dejected. Come off it, he told himself, giving his shoulders a little shake, you knew it was all fake. It's not like Annabeth Chase actually wants you to hang out with her. They weren't dating, they didn't even really know each other, he needed to calm the Styx down. He sent out a quick, ok, and went back to work.
"Turn a little to the left so you're on an angle," Percy tried to direct as Drew gave her hair a toss, letting her admittedly beautiful hair cascade over dark shoulders.
Drew gazed down her nose at him, it's perfect little curve wrinkled like he was something gross she stepped on instead of a human being trying to capture her in a flattering light. Drew was admittedly a beautiful young woman, in an I-clearly-think-I'm-better-than-you-and-spent-a-thousand-dollars-on-my-purse-alone kind of way. But where she clearly had a doll-like perfection there was the rather unfortunate effect that, despite all her mother's efforts, she was . . . well . . .
"Stop puffing your chest out so much," Percy said.
"No, don't listen to him," Mrs. Tanaka interrupted, typing away furiously on her cell phone and not sparing a glance their way. "Show off your assets."
"Ma'am, I really think this isn't the most flattering angle," Percy tried to placate. "If we could just—"
"My daughter doesn't have a bad angle," Mrs. Tanaka frostily interjected.
"I didn't say bad, ma'am, it's just, standing on an angle like that while puffing out isn't the most . . ." Percy awkwardly trailed off, floundering as his cheeks darkened. It wasn't like he was staring but this was his job and he was supposed to notice things, and well, they would just write him an angrily email about it later if everything wasn't perfect now and . . .
"Isn't the most what, spit it out?" Mrs. Tanaka spat out, turning back to her phone to stab out a reply to someone, hitting the keys so hard Percy could hear the harsh tap-tap-tap even from his distance.
"Will you just hurry up and take the shot?" Drew impatiently demanded, tossing her hair again, causing her diamond earrings to rattle and glitter like stars.
"Why don't we try—"
"I'm paying for this photoshoot and you will do as I say or be replaced," Mrs. Tanaka coldly informed him. "So if you don't want to be out of the job, put that camera back up and get to work."
"Yes, ma'am," Percy sighed in resignation, knowing that the proof gallery was going to be met with fury and blame all directed at him.
The shoot dragged on for another full hour before he made a break for his graduation shoot, glad to be rid of the Tanakas for the time. Of course, he had another shoot with them next week because perfect little princess wanted pictures in the park and in the city but whatever. That was a problem for next week. The graduation shoot went much more smoothly. The father stayed on his phone the whole time, grunting every once and a while (which really didn't answer questions like 'are there any specify poses or backgrounds you want', 'did the mother specify any poses she wanted,' 'the kid wants a picture flipping off the world, are you okay with that?').
It wasn't until he was crawling back into his apartment around four that he gave Annabeth's text any more thought. But now, in the safety of his own apartment, he frowned down at her last text message, unease slithering into the back of his mind.
Sant Ambroeus.
He didn't know where that was. He actually hadn't even heard of it before, which probably meant that it was expensive. Percy was nearly broke. He couldn't even afford a full gallon of milk at the store last night, he had to buy a quart. He chewed on his bottom lip. Yes, he had a couple of shoots coming up but he had bills to pay and he'd been looking into night classes at the local college, there was a photography contest he wanted to enter but had an entrance fee, and if any of the expeditions he applied to had gotten back to him, he'd need immediate cash to get up and run.
Not that any of that mattered because his last few checks hadn't even found their way to his bank account yet.
He chewed nervously on the end of a pen, rocking back and forth on his heels. He couldn't afford to go out to dinner. I'm the boyfriend, Percy realized in panic, am I supposed to pay for Annabeth's dinner too?
Oh, this was bad. Surely she wouldn't make him pay? She'd interject with something about that being so outdated and how she was her own person right? Come on, they weren't actually dating she wouldn't do that to him, that much he was confident in. But his own meal . . .
Maybe it won't be expensive, he tried to calm himself, sitting down on his bed and dragging out his ancient computer. The stupid thing was more of an outdated hunk of metal than an actual working digital databased, but whatever.
"Come on, come on," Percy pleaded, biting the cap off the pen and nervously teething at it. He would probably ruin it and then the pen would be capless leading to an ink disaster but it was a nervous habit even a thousand ink stains couldn't cure.
The computer's fans whirled manically, buzzing against his legs like an entire angry hive of hornets before the screen blinked to life.
"Thank you," he muttered as he typed in Sant Ambroeus.
He bit clean through the cap at the sight of the restaurant's homepage, not needing to go any farther for his answer. The modernist, classy design glittering mockingly at him and center screen stood the words 'book a table.' Yep, it was expensive.
Percy flopped down on the bed, starfishing out in despair, mindful of the laptop resting precariously on his knees. What was he going to do? He couldn't afford to eat a place that required a reservation. Percy turned his head to the side, the scrap of his old bedsheet against his face reminding him that he hadn't shaved that morning and he probably needed a shower. Styx, was he a disaster.
I can't do it, he thought in despair. He stared at a water stain on the wall, mapping out its blobby, misshapen girth and wishing his life were as simple as the stupid little blemish. No worries, no bills, no fake girlfriends.
Man up, he told himself and forced himself to sit up. He spat the ruined ballpoint pen's cap into his hand and added it to the other fallen soldiers who laid decimated on his nightstand. You made the mess, now clean it up.
Hey Annabeth, he typed, so sorry but I actually don't think I can make it tonight.
There, that's it, Percy thought, holding his breath as he hit send. He held the cell phone at a distance from his face, like it was going to blow up or something. He waited with bated breath for a minute . . . two . . . five . . . .
"Well," he said out loud after ten minutes had passed without any explosive consequences, "is that it then?"
That's when he heard the knocking on the door.
"Oh no," he whispered in panic. What did he do? That had to be Annabeth, nobody else would knock on his door. His mother had a key, Triton would be shouting, his sister could pick a lot, man even Leo would pick the lock before he knocked, what did he do? Could he pretend he wasn't home, had she seen him come in? She couldn't have right, it would be perfectly safe to—
"I know you're in there Jackson, open up," Annabeth called, which popped all of his hopes like a kid figuring out Santa wasn't real.
Nope, he was doomed.
"Um, hi, ah," was Percy's eloquent greeting when he opened the door, scratching the back of his head and he gave a full body wince at the look on Annabeth's face.
"What do you mean you can't make it?" she demanded, each word short and clipped, anger sizzling dangerously behind each syllable.
"It's just—I don't want to leave you hanging like that but ah, here's the thing, I ah—"
"I thought you were okay with this," Annabeth interrupted and Percy's heart constricted as betrayal lurked in her pretty gray eyes.
"I am okay with it!" Percy quickly reassured her, his hand falling away from the disaster that was his hair, accidentally banging it painfully on the door and recovering himself to splay his fingers around the handle, any attempt at coolness hopelessly lost.
"Then what's wrong with dinner?" Annabeth demanded.
"It's just, tonight—"
"It's only for two hours tops—"
"I get that, I just have a ton of photos to edit and—"
"Do you want me to pay you?"
"What, Styx, Annabeth no, I told you, you don't have to pay me, it's just—"
"Are you looking for some other kind of compensation?"
"Compen—? No! No, gods, no—"
"I don't get it then," Annabeth said and her tone drew him up short.
Her voice was perfectly calm, her face so composed it looked like marble, but it all felt . . . wrong, cold. Like Annabeth was shutting down, closing herself off, and after seeing her wit and warm personality the night before it was almost painful to see the cold business mask. He knew she didn't have a great relationship with her father or stepmother and maybe . . . maybe he had that more bearable for her. He forgot sometimes how lucky he was to have not two but four parents who loved him and whose presence didn't make him want to crawl in a hole and die. But Annabeth didn't have that. She out of her comfort zone, so much so that she had asked a complete stranger for help, and here he was abandoning her and what must that do to a person's faith in humanity, god her eyes were so pretty—
"Alright, alright, I'm sorry, what time?" Percy sighed, his resolve crumbling into ashes.
"Seven o'clock," Annabeth breathed out and her entire body sort of . . . well almost deflated. Her shoulders dropped, tension seemingly leaking out of her body until nothing but a tired shell was left behind.
"Ah, are you okay?" Percy asked awkwardly, feeling more and more like a terrible person for causing her so much anxiety.
"They just . . . drain me, I guess," Annabeth sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Anyway, I'm . . . I'm sorry, I just . . . . It'll be easier if you're there and I don't have to answer a million questions about why you aren't there, or have them start to doubt my ability to keep anybody in my life. I just . . . I just don't want to do that. So. Thank you. Again."
"I mean, that is what I signed up for so I should stick to my guns," Percy said, trying to lighten the mood. "I can just get up early tomorrow and edit."
"Thank you," Annabeth said again, her voice just as tired sounding. "I'm serious though, I can pay—"
Percy waved her off. "You're not paying me, so knock that off. Hey, you look utterly exhausted, do you want some water or something? Do you need to sit down?" he asked in concern, eyeing the dark circles around her eyes.
Annabeth shook her head, blonde curls swaying hypnotically over her tired eyes. "I'm fine, thank you. I'm going to go change and . . . and then we can catch a cab or something."
"Oh," Percy said, trying to conceal his panic and not look like a half-broke loser. God, how far was this restaurant? How much would that cost?
"I'll meet you back here a half hour before," Annabeth said. "If . . . if that's still alright."
"It's alright," Percy repeated.
"You . . . " Annabeth hesitated, shifting on her feet. "Alright. Thank you."
"Anytime," Percy said with what he hoped was a convincing smile.
Annabeth actually gave him a smile at that. It was no more than a gentle tug on her lips, but it made her face look softer, warmer and Percy's stomach did a little flip at it, his own lips giving a returning smile. He stood there, leaning against the doorway as Annabeth walked back to her apartment. He had a stupid smile on his face, lopsided and pleased, as he watched her make her way down the hall. She unlocked her door and, as if sensing her gaze, turned to meet his gaze.
He felt his face flush, realizing he'd been caught staring like a total creep. Fake girlfriend, off-limits, Percy reminded himself, scratching the back of his head and trying to rapidly retreat to the safety of his apartment. So, of course, he rammed his elbow against the door again, which emitted a resounding crack that Annabeth was sure to hear, and a long string of curses that probably didn't reflect favorably on him before he was able to shut the door. He slumped against the door, heart pounding.
God you're a mess, he told himself, pressing a palm against his eyes.
He tried to concentrate on editing pictures from the Tanaka's photoshoot. Half of them were unflattering thanks to the unfortunate angle the Tanakas insisted on. His nervous energy combined with the certainty that the Tanakas were going to hate the pictures no matter how he edited them, had him bouncing off the walls. He switched over to the graduation shoot, then to a shot from earlier that week, back to the Tanakas, back to the graduation from today, until his head was spinning and the colors were blurring together.
He slammed the computer closed harder than he should have, jumping to his feet, unable to stand it any longer. He paced the apartment restlessly, fighting the urge to grab another pen to knaw on. It was a quarter to six. Okay, okay, first thing first: shave, shower, try to find something presentable to wear.
It took him all of ten minutes to complete the first two, his fifty cent razor cutting into the skin a little too deeply around his jawline despite a steady hand. He paced in front of his tiny closet as he toweled his hair, hoping nobody could smell how cheap his dollar store shampoo was. The real problem, however, was the tattered, outdated threads before him. What was appropriate to wear to San whatever? How fancy was it? Did he need a suit?
God, he didn't even own a suit.
"What have you gotten yourself into," Percy moaned to himself for what felt like the millionth time since agreeing to this . . . insane adventure.
"Alright, let's do this," Percy decided, grabbing the closest presentable clothing and pulling it on before he could talk himself out of it.
He dragged himself back into the bathroom, pausing in his hair drying attempt to clear a circle of condensation from the mirror. The man who gazed back almost looked like someone Annabeth Chase would take to meet the parents. The cut from the razor was only visible if he turned to the right, nicely tucked away in the corner. If he sat across from the parent's they probably wouldn't notice. His shirt was a plain blue button down (saved for 'special occasions' which in Percy's world normally meant his mother's book signings not meeting someone's parents in a fancy restaurant) and his black slacks could almost pass as something bought at a reputable outlet and not the discount rack at Target. His hair was a lost cause but who knows, maybe it looked stylishly chaotic. Was that a thing? He hoped it was a thing.
"Don't mess this up," he told the reflection sternly.
As if on cue, there was a knock on his door.
"Showtime," he muttered, tossing the towel onto the floor and grabbing his woefully light wallet as he braced himself for the night ahead.
"Hi," Percy breathed as he closed the door behind him, shoving his hands nervously in his pockets as he greeted the blonde woman.
Annabeth looked . . . well, more or less like Annabeth always looked. Her hair was still pulled back in a bun, dressed in professional gray attire. The only thing that was missing was her portfolio.
"You look beautiful," he said honestly, then winced because this wasn't a date and that was probably too forward and oh god he was making this weird—
Annabeth's lips twitched, "I look the same as I always do, but thanks. You clean up nice."
"Thanks," he said and had to ball his hands into fists to keep them in his pockets and not nervously scratch the back of his head and make his already unruly hair more unruly.
"So warn me some, what does your dad do for a living?" Percy babbled as held open the door to the apartment stairs for her, trying not to breathe too deeply as she walked by. She smelled like strawberries and that tea she drank the night before.
Stop being such a creep, he told himself, shaking his head vigorously as if to dispel the scent from the air and hastened down the steps behind his fake date.
"He's a professor at a local university," Annabeth explained. "He could have taught anywhere but with my stepbrothers being so young, he wanted to be home at reasonable hours and the bigger universities would have demanded more hours from him so . . . . He always says he'll go back but we'll see. He teaches physics and aerodynamics. He's obsessed with planes and really anything that flies."
"Cool, cool," Percy said, bobbing his head. "What about your stepmom?"
"She runs an at-home daycare," Annabeth said with a shrug of her shoulders. He could see the muscles in her back tensing up, her shoulders pulling together as they fell out of the shrug. "And makes like homemade jewelry or something. I don't know. She makes good money whatever it is."
"Cool, cool," he echoed, feeling useless and awkward.
They didn't say anything else. He held the door apartment complex door open for her and she waved down a cab as he worried on his thumb and tried not to look too nervous and broke. He let Annabeth crawl into the cab first before folding himself in, his limbs feeling abnormally long as he slammed his knee against the back of the front seat, his head brushing against the cab's roof.
Annabeth rattled off the address, waving a credit card at the cab driver.
Relief so potent it took his breath away washed over Percy. He sank back in the uncomfortable cab's seat, his eyes flickering closed as he tried to hide the flood of relief that coursed through his veins. He felt Annabeth lean back in the seat, her arm brushing against his. It sent a series of warm tingles down his spine and Percy forced his eyes back open, grimacing. Honestly, you'd think he'd never gone on a platonic date before (he had, many times. He was the fun platonic third wheel all his coupled friends didn't mind and the post-breakup call-at-three-am-to-bring-ice-cream-and-Disney-movies friend).
The moment the cab began moving, Annabeth began fiddling with a necklace around her neck, twisting the cord around her finger clockwise than counterclockwise then clockwise again but clearly had no conscious awareness of the fact; she faced away from him, gray eyes fixed on the oncoming traffic, clearly lost to her own head. Percy wasn't sure what to say to make her feel better—wasn't sure if there was anything that could make her feel better. The silence was bad enough but the terribleness was magnified eleven-fold by the restricted confines of the cab. He desperately wanted to move, to fiddle, to move things around, but he was trapped and had to settle on bouncing his leg; he was acutely aware of every vibration it sent across the close quarters.
They couldn't get to the restaurant fast enough. When the cab finally came to a stop, Percy all but bolted out of the cab. He bounced on his heels, breathing in the open, albeit it pollution-filled, air and hung on the door as he waited for Annabeth to get out. She climbed out slowly, each movement careful and graceful as if she were walking on glass. Her eyes scanned the restaurant front Percy hadn't dared look at yet, squaring her shoulders as if preparing for war.
"Alright, let's do this," Annabeth said, striding forward.
"Um, okay should we ah—" Percy asked, hastening after her, and managing to throw an arm out in front of her before she pushed her way through the restaurant's doors. "Like should you hold my arm or my hand or something?"
Couples did that right? It seemed weird to head into the restaurant with a three-inch gap between them at least. Rachel hadn't been the most touchy-feely of girlfriends but even then he remembered touching her a lot, casually brushing against her as they walked, her hand on the small of his back, grabbing his arm as they turned corners.
Annabeth stared at him.
"Right," she agreed clinically, nodding her head. She stared at him and Percy awkwardly stared back, not sure what she wanted. Oh god, was he supposed to take her hand, put his arm around her shoulder, what did she—
Annabeth solved the dilemma a moment later with a deep sigh at his panicked immobility, hooking her arm through his.
"Come on then," she said and they were through the doors for real this time.
A dull murmuring reached them as they entered the restaurant, a pleasant buzz of conversation that was nowhere near as loud as the rambunctious hollering of the cheap casual restaurants Percy was used to frequenting (if he went at all, which he normally didn't.) Annabeth led the way, steering him through the crowd, bypassing the hostess with a short, "we're part of an already seated party."
Percy stumbled along after her, feeling more like he was being led than half of a happy couple. He prayed they didn't look too awkward as Annabeth maneuvered them over to a brightly lit corner in the back of the restaurant where her father and stepmother slowly took shape.
"Oh, there you are!" Fredrick called in delight, half rising from his seat to pull Annabeth into an uncomfortable looking one-armed hug. "You're late! I completely expected you to be here before us—"
"Ah, that was probably me," Percy said awkwardly, fighting the urge to fidget as Annabeth's shoulders impossibly tensed up even tighter.
He gave what he hoped was an apologetic smile, watching uncomfortably as Helena hid a smile behind her menu and Fredrick laughed warmly. To Percy's alarm, when he let go of his daughter, he reached out to clap Percy on the shoulder.
"Good to see you again," Fredrick said and Percy fought the urge to bolt at the fondness in the man's eyes.
"And you too," he managed to choke out before Annabeth tugged at his cuff, an obvious nonverbal instruction to sit.
He sat and, naturally, bashed his knees against the table, causing Helena's water to slosh over the rim of her cup. Percy winced so hard he was surprised the table didn't jerk again.
"Ah, sorry, I'm—"
"It's just water, dear, don't worry about it," Helena laughed it off, waving her hand as she dabbed at the water with one of those cloth napkins.
Percy balled his hands into fists under the table, glancing at Annabeth out of the corner of his eye. She had picked up a menu and was glancing over it, not noticing his gaze. The air felt stifling and a million times more awkward than the first time he met the Chases. It's Annabeth, he thought in despair. As if sensing his building panic, Annabeth looked at him from over the top of her menu. Under the table, he felt a gentle tap as she reached out and nudged him with her foot, widening her eyes in a meaningful manner. He wasn't entirely sure what she was trying to tell him but don't freak out was probably in there. The gentle touch did the trick though and he swallowed his embarrassed panic down and looked down at the menu as well.
"I ordered us all waters, if you want something different, I can wave down the wait—"
"Water's fine," Percy quickly interjected, not needing to look at the beverage prices to know he couldn't afford them.
"We're good, Dad, thanks," Annabeth said, nodding in agreement. "How's the hotel?"
Her father launched into some anecdote about a check-in mishap that Percy didn't hear a word of because, under the table, he felt another tap. He glanced Annabeth's way but she wasn't looking at him. He felt the tap again, then realized the tapping was a consequence of Annabeth's bouncing leg and not an intentional attention-grabbing device.
Feeling sympathetic, Percy moved his chair a millimeter closer to hers, so their elbows touched. The touch seemed to startle her and her eyes flickered up. He offered her a half smile and, to his relief, received an answering one.
"So," Fredrick called, demanding their attention again. "You don't really want to hear about our boring hotel, tell me about all that's happened since I saw you last."
His eyes meaningfully landed on Percy as a waiter swept up to drop off two more glasses of water. Annabeth pretended to misunderstand his meaning as she unwrapped her straw, stabbing it into the water with more force than necessary.
"The museum's doing great, we have three new exhibits," Annabeth said as she flicked through the menu.
Fredrick and Helena shared a glance, the former looking exasperated and the later sympathetic. Helena reached out and took her husband's hand, giving it a squeeze. Percy adverted his eyes and tried to scan the menu but the writing was tiny and cursive. He squinted hard, holding his head to the side as if it would magically cure his dyslexia. It didn't work and he was hyper-aware of the small patch of skin that was pressed against Annabeth. He blinked hard, then again.
"I think what your father meant—"
"Who's watching Matthew and Bobby?" Annabeth interrupted and Percy tried to hide a full body flinch behind his menu.
Oh god, she was terrible at this. He took a long sip of water to have something to do with his hands so he wouldn't start tearing apart his straw wrapper in agitation. His elbow was still rubbing against Annabeth's. He swallowed hard and tried to focus on the menu again. He had given up trying to decipher the words, resolving instead to pick whatever the cheapest item was but even the prices were small and written on a slant, because of course they were.
"Ah, your Aunt Natalie—"
"Are they doing well in school?"
Annabeth kept up the rapid-fire questions, deflecting all of her father's attempts to ask questions of his own. Fredrick shifted in his seat, his grip on his wife's hands tightening at every defection. Helena's thumb circled soothingly over the back of his hand, but Percy could sense an explosion a mile away. He bit his tongue to avoid saying something stupid like 'hey Annabeth maybe let the man talk' and tried to focus on the menu. He eyed the straw wrapper on the table, hand itching at his side. He took another sip of water, his mind desperately casting around for a distraction that didn't involve draining his water before the waiter even took his order. Speaking of the devil, Percy froze with the water halfway to the table as a man dressed smartly in a sharp red uniform slid up to the table with a smile and felt his stomach drop.
"Are we ready to order?"
"We are if you guys . . ." Helena said with a forced brightness, smiling around at them.
Percy stared wide-eyed at her and, without thinking, shot a panicked look at Annabeth.
"Need another minute," Annabeth told the waiter, her voice breaking no argument.
"Not a problem," the waiter said and gracefully ducked his way out.
"I'm sorry, I forgot," Annabeth said in a low voice, leaning closer so he could hear her. Her hair tickled his cheek, her entire left side pressed against his. "I always looked up menus beforehand so I can make the print larger or have my phone read it to me."
She slipped her phone out of her pocket and lay it on the table between them, tactfully obscuring it with strategic placement of her menu. The Sant Ambroeus website was pulled up on her phone, opened to a menu page that had been magnified.
"What do you like?" she asked, her mouth barely moving as her finger slowly dragged down the phone, slowly panning over the now readable menu.
Percy wiped sweaty hands against his pants and tried not to choke on air at the prices that flickered by. He licked his lips, fingers digging into his leg.
"Ah, can you go back up to appetizers?"
"Everything okay?" Fredrick asked and Percy supposed they looked rather rude, huddled close together with their heads bent behind Annabeth's propped up menu.
"Fine," Annabeth said shortly, scrolling back up to the appetizers. The prices there were marginally better but still pricier than what he'd normally be willing to shell out for an entrée much less an appetizer.
"Not hungry?" she asked Percy, her voice returning to a low murmur against his cheek, which was very distracting and not what he needed right now.
"Ah, yeah," he lied and thanked every deity he could think of when his stomach didn't growl and betray him. "One of, ah, one of my clients fed me so."
Annabeth nodded, buying his lie, and he was eternally grateful the world knew so little of the photography industry because the idea of a client actually feeding him was laughable in its absurdity. Hell, he never even got fed to do weddings when there was actual food present.
"What even is this?" he asked in mild panic as he regarded the menu. The letters were actually readable now but . . . something was still not right.
"The names are in Italian, the description are in English," Annabeth soothed. "I looked some of them up, here."
And her thumb moved to the side of the phone where a bright yellow note popped up.
"Why would they do that to me?" Percy bemoaned and Annabeth gave a huff of laughter.
He looked down at her, his chin dragging across her hair as he turned, and saw a hint of a smile. She didn't look all wound up and miserable now at least. Somehow, that lessened his anxiety over the entire can't-read-the-menu-or-afford-the-meal thing.
"Is there—?" Fredrick started to ask.
"It's nothing, Dad," Annabeth cut him off sharply, the smile disappearing.
Percy squirmed uncomfortably as Fredrick's smile dropped, misery settling into his worn face and gah, here Annabeth was trying to protect Percy and he was making everything worse. Forget it, he said and threw caution to the wind.
"It's my dyslexia," he admitted, "I can't read the menu."
"Oh, you're dyslexic too?" Fredrick asked and weirdly enough his face lit up at that.
Too? Oh, Percy realized. ADHD and dyslexia were not uncommon in the same individual, it wasn't all that strange that Annabeth had the same concoction of disorders as him. Of course, he was the boyfriend so he was supposed to know that.
"Yeah," Percy said, drawing the word out a little. "Sorry. Annabeth always remembers to look at the menu before we go out and I always think I'll be fine."
"It's only because it's in Italian," Annabeth dismissed.
"Sure, and what about last time?" Percy teased, proud of his ad-libbing.
Annabeth didn't know what to do with the bone he'd thrown her. She gave a sort of amused smile but dropped the banter to point at something on her phone.
"I'm having this," she told him and he skipped right over the name (he couldn't read English properly never mind Italian) to scan what it contained. Some noodles with a bunch of fancy names he'd never heard before.
"Great," he said, resolving not to look at the price as he plopped his finger down at something at random on the appetizer menu. "I'll just have that."
"Caprese Flatbread?"
"Are you sure that's how it's pronounced?"
Annabeth gave another huff of laughter and Percy grinned cheekily at her. He was about to say something stupid just to try and get a real laugh out her when the waiter returned. Percy slaughtered the pronunciation, an embarrassment that was worth it for the chuckle it drew from the blonde beside him and tried not think of how little was in his bank account.
"So how do you like New York?" Percy asked because that seemed like a normal thing to ask and Annabeth was clearly not okay on the whole initiating conversations front.
"We haven't gotten to see much of it yet," Fredrick admitted. "After we ambushed the pair of you yesterday we went to the hotel and crashed. We looked around a little while you two were at work but it's just so overwhelming, you never know were to start and the tour we were—"
"Oh no, you can't go on one of those," Percy objected immediately in horror, unable to stop his nose from wrinkling in disgust. "They never take you to any real places, just a bunch of tourist-y traps. Cost you an arm and a leg and you'll never see nothing."
"Percy was born in the city," Annabeth said dryly.
"Shut up," Percy said good-naturedly. "Leave my city alone. She's got her good spots."
"And her cesspools."
"Maybe you could give us a tour one of these days then," Fredrick interjected, smiling at him from over his glass of water. He spared a glance at his wife, gripping her hand tightly but it looked different this time. Less pained.
"Oh yes, you'll know all the right places to go to and we'll get to talk," Helena said.
"Percy and I still have full-time jobs," Annabeth interjected. "I doubt we'd be able to take off enough time to show you around town."
"I mean, I work odd hours so," Percy said but Annabeth's eye twitched a little at that so he switched gears. "I could give you some pointers on what to check out when you're flying solo though."
So that's what he did. Percy launched into the second most interesting topic in the world: his city. He had recommendations on every experience under the sun (the best ice cream shop is on fifth but if you want the most interesting it's two blocks over, they have spinach artichoke which honestly is as bad as it sounds). He was always happy to blather on about the city but the entire experience was made a million times better as he physically felt Annabeth relax next to him the longer the conversation grew.
She went from sitting tensely beside him, their sides still glued together, to utterly relaxed, muscles standing down one by one as the dinner waxed on and he carried the conversation. The side she was pressed against burned red hot and he was aware of every connection point between the two of them. He barely tasted the food when it came and if pressed probably couldn't have even told anyone what he ate.
He couldn't remember the last time he had such a good time.
"Oh you're pulling my leg," Fredrick exclaimed as Percy finished a story about the time he and Leo thought it was a good idea to roll Jason down a hill in the snow and Jason ended up sliding right into a skating rink, taking out a couple of skaters in the process.
"Nope, wish I was," Percy grinned.
"The check, sir."
Percy froze at the words as the waiter suddenly materialized at Fredrick's side, panic clogging his throat. Oh god, how bad was it going to be? Did he bring separate checks, what if—
"Oh yeah," Fredrick said, as if paying for their very expensive meal was a trivial detail that had slipped his mind. He held out a bright red credit card between two fingers for the waiter to take. "Here you go, put it all on there."
"You don't have to," Percy said weakly, but this was more from the relief that slammed into his lungs than an actual objection.
"I insist," Fredrick said, waving off Percy's half-heartened protest. "What's a father for anyway if he can't take his little girl and her boyfriend out sometimes?"
Percy hummed, which felt the wisest decision as Annabeth tensed up again at the words little girl.
"Well, if you insist," Percy said, then, because his mother didn't raise a complete heathen, "thank you."
Fredrick smiled, "It's our pleasure."
Fredrick continued to smile across the table at Annabeth and Percy. He was still holding his wife's hand but the grip had relaxed into something gentler, and Percy looked away, feeling like an intruder.
"Thank you guys for meeting with us tonight," Fredrick said and the sincerity in his words made Percy's head spin a little.
"Thank you for taking us," Annabeth replied but it kind of sounded more like an automatic response than something genuine.
Fredrick's smile turned a little sad and Percy thought that maybe her father realized it too.
"Okay sweetheart," he said, his voice soft and quiet. "Well, Helena and I will leave you alone for the night. We'll see you sometime tomorrow?"
He looked like he half expected Annabeth to say no. The dim lights from the lamp on the wall cast his face in shadow, making him look much older.
"Yeah Dad, I'll call you when I get out of work," Annabeth said and her voice had dropped in gentleness as well.
"Thank you," Fredrick repeated.
He stood, waiting a moment for Helena to gather her purse and stand as well. As he left, he hesitated, then leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the top of Annabeth's head. It seemed to drain all the energy out of the blonde, who sighed.
"Goodnight, Dad," Annabeth said. "Thank you for dinner."
This one sounded genuine. Percy busied himself watching a drop of condensation work its way down his mostly empty water as the father-daughter duo bid each other good night, and kept his eyes focused on the droplet as though it were the most interesting thing in the world as the Chases took their leave. Annabeth didn't say anything for a moment, sitting perfectly immobile at his side.
"Are you ready to leave?" she asked, finally breaking the silence after a long moment.
"Yep, whenever you are," Percy readily agreed and they were out the door in a matter of seconds.
They walked side by side in silence. Percy shoved his hands into his pockets as Annabeth lifted her face to the wind.
"So, ah, that went well?" Percy hedged, balling his fingers into fists as they walked.
"It did actually," Annabeth agreed. The wind whipped a stray blond curl about her face. "Thank you. It would have been . . . without you . . . well, thank you."
"Like I keep saying, it's no problem."
Annabeth gave a small huff, rewarding his crooked smile with one of her straight ones.
"Alright. Well, I have to head over to the museum to pick up some papers, so this is where I leave you."
"Yeah okay . . . well, you have my number," Percy said with a cheerfulness he didn't quite feel, his heart pounding loudly in his ears.
They stared awkwardly at each other.
"Do you want me to walk you . . . ?"
"No! No, I'm okay. I'll just take a cab, but, ah, thank you. Besides, I can take care of myself anyway."
"I believe that," Percy said with a half quirked smile, knowing all too well how intimidating the blonde could be. All the apartment building men were far too afraid of Annabeth to cross her; she got the entire floor's male population to stop doing laundry in any state of undress by the force of her glare alone.
Annabeth's eyes crinkled as though she were thinking the same thing, turning half sideways to wave down a taxi. The restaurant's lights illuminated the back of her head, causing a golden glow to shimmer along the edge of her curls.
"It didn't go bad," Percy repeated softly.
"No, it really didn't," Annabeth agreed. "The beginning was . . . but by the end, it was sort of enjoyable. We weren't at each other's throats. I had no idea my father felt so strongly about hot dogs."
"Hot dogs are serious business," Percy teased, eyes fixed on a strand of her hair as a light breeze caused it to float free around her face.
Annabeth gave a light shiver, her arms crossing across her chest to ward off the cold and Percy instinctively hunched over, turning his back to the wind to shield her from its chill. The movement drew both of their attention to how close they were standing to each other, his head bent over hers, his forehead basically touching her hair. Her gray eyes flickered up to met his green ones and Percy swore his heart stopped.
"Hey! You gettin' in or not, I don' have all night!"
Annabeth jumped back as though electrified at the harsh voice, whirling to find the taxi she'd waved down impatiently waiting at the curb, the driver glaring at them.
"Oh ah, yeah, coming," Annabeth said, hastily climbing into the cab before Percy's brain could come back online.
"So ah, I'll see you around then?" Percy asked, bending over to maintain eye contact as she settled inside the cab, his brain still struggling to keep up, caught back thirty seconds ago when he almost thought . . .
"Yeah, I'll call you," Annabeth promised with a curt nod. Were her cheeks red or was it just the lighting?
"Great," Percy grinned and he swore he saw his neighbor smile back before the taxi tore out of the curb, racing off into the streets.
Percy stood awkwardly at the curb watching the taxi disappear around the corner, his now abandoned side oddly cold, until his heart returned to a reasonable level before beginning his long walk home.
A/n Holy smokes the boy just wouldn't shut up. A thousand thank yous again to my amazing beta rhig122 for cheerleading this beast along and giving me the idea for Jason taking out a bunch of skaters! I hope this was a reasonable first 'date.' Also, the restaurant is real but the food Percy ordered is not because they don't have an appetizer menu, so that is stolen from Olive Garden. Thank you to everybody who favorited, followed and reviewed. You guys are honestly the best, I wouldn't be able to do this without you. I just started a Master's program so I am more than a little swamped therefore updates will be slow coming, kindly bear with me, I'm slowly drowning in coursework.
Please let me know what you thought and, as always, I hope you enjoyed ~ *