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I woke up, my entire body sore from the hits I took yesterday in the football game. My knees in particular rebelled against me as I got up to put on sweatpants and a t-shirt. I slid on braces for my knees and ankles before brewing a coffee in my kitchen.

While I waited for my coffee machine to churn out an espresso, I took out my phone. Annabeth's message stared up at me.

Shoot. Did I really forget to text her back? Way to show her you care, Percy.

Well…better late than never, right?

Me: Sorry for late response. Meet you at the entrance at nine tomorrow?

I slid my phone in my pocket, hoping Annabeth wouldn't be mad at my late response. I wasn't a prompt person, and my lack of a killer work ethic was my main obstacle in football.

My phone buzzed three minutes later.

Annabeth Chase: Sounds good. Have a nice day Percy!

Just as I poured my freshly brewed coffee into a cup, I heard a knock on my apartment door. It was probably Nico. Not many people knew where I lived since Chiron and I agreed that I should stay under-the-radar as much as possible. I always found ways to get in trouble—I was suspended for four games throughout my college career for stupid misbehavior-and I planned to change that as a professional. Avoiding the paparazzi was a good start.

Also, I had a feeling Annabeth was a timely and organized person. Not many people were focused on being on time for coffee at seven in the morning on a weekday.

But the most fun thing about her was the mystery. Whenever she looked at me, I felt like she knew something I didn't for some reason. It made me curious. It made me interested. It made me want to see her more.

I opened my door, and sure enough Death Boy was standing in front of me. "What's up?" I asked.

Nico shrugged. "Nothing much. Do you have time to hang out today?"

"I'm free. I'm sore as freaking hell though so I can't do anything crazy," I complained. Not many people realized how much stress was put on my joints during a football game in which I was hit at least thirty times by people twice my size.

"Does watching SportsCenter count as crazy?" Nico asked.

I shook my head. "Come on in," I told him, motioning inside. "Remote's on top of the TV."

I took a sip of my coffee and followed Nico to my humble living room. Besides the sixty-inch flatscreen TV, there wasn't much to see about it. The room contained a long but worn-down couch and pictures of my family on the coffee table in front of the couch.

As I looked at the pictures on the table, the biggest of my mother and Paul, my stepdad, laughing, I made a mental note to visit them sometime soon. I was born via a short fling my mom had with a rich businessman in the fishing industry when she was younger, but Paul treated me well nonetheless. He didn't try to replace my dad-thankfully-but he was the man I came to when I needed help in a sticky situation in college. Paul was a high school English teacher, so he was always full of useful advice to give me.

"Percy, look at this," Nico said from the couch. He was slouching lazily in one corner, the remote in his left hand. "You're on TV."

I glanced over at the screen, and sure enough SportsCenter was showing the highlights of the Rebels versus Falcons game yesterday. I saw myself throw a touchdown pass to Travis and fire an arrow backwards in celebration.

Nico laughed. "That never gets old. Who'd you steal the celebration from?"

"Baseball player," I told Nico. "He does that at the end of every game he wins."

"Figures. You gotta come up with something original, Percy," he complained.

"Any ideas, Death Boy? Playing dead isn't an option, by the way."

Nico threw his hands in the air. "It's your celebration. I'm not going to figure it out for you."

"Arrow it is, then," I said, as I saw Leo kick his game-winning field goal on the TV. "I'm glad Leo's on the team. Not just because he's a good kicker. He's the funniest guy in the world."

"I'm glad too," Nico said. "At least from a fan's perspective. He's too cheerful for me."

"There you go again with the depressing comments," I said. "Did you get the day off today?" I asked him, just noticing he wasn't at work on a Monday. Care to take a guess where Nico works?

"There aren't any funerals today," he told me. "Too bad, since I kind of like my job."

"Must be so much fun to be a receptionist at a funeral home," I remarked.

Nico shrugged. "What can I say? It's easy, it pays decently, and I get to work with dead people." I didn't ask. I didn't want to know what he found so appealing about dead people.

"You could just go to college instead," I told him. Nico's dad was Hades Pluto, the owner of Underworld Inc., one of the largest coffin manufacturing companies in the world. He could pay for Nico's college tuition in a heartbeat.

Nico shook his head. "Too crowded there. I hate school. You know that."

"How's it going between you and Thalia, by the way?" I asked him, changing the subject.

Nico shrugged. "Well, I guess. I think she's interested."

"Have you kissed yet?"

"Nope. Anyways, what do you think of the headlines of the New York Post?" Nico asked, changing the subject again. I guess Thalia wasn't up for discussion.

"Haven't seen them yet," I replied truthfully, even though I knew exactly what I was going to see.

"Dude, you gotta check them out," Nico said, pulling out his phone. He showed me the New York Post on it, and my eyes jumped straight to my name on the headlines. The first article's title read, 21-Year-Old Phenom leads Rebels to First Victory in Nine Months, and showed a picture of me firing an arrow backwards.

"What's the big deal?" I asked Nico, handing him back his phone without reading the article. Whatever they had to say, I knew already.

Nico raised his eyebrows. "The New York Post wrote something positive about you. That's not easy to get."

I shrugged. "I guess so. I don't really care what the papers say about me, though."

"What do you care about, then?" Nico asked me.

"Good question. I care about what my teammates think of me, I guess. I care about what I think of myself. I want the Rebels to be good, and I'll do everything I can to help that happen," I told Nico. "But I also like Annabeth a lot. I want a long-term relationship. And I've been doing an awful job so far."

Nico sighed and put down the remote. "What did you do this time, Percy?"

"I forgot to call Annabeth back after our date or anything. She asked me to hit Central Park tomorrow and it took me a day to respond."

Nico threw his hands up in the air. "Dude, you gotta do better than that. I know you're famous and all, but that's no excuse to be a bad boyfriend to her."

"I know. I just…don't know how. I want to treat her well, but I guess I'm too used to those two-week flings."

"Are you asking me for help?"

I shrugged. "Sure. Any advice?"

"Just be yourself, and be nice to her. Make sure you call her and text her back quickly, but not too quickly. Don't listen to me, but you should tell her who you are or else she'll get mad when she finds out. Dude, these are the basics. Not rocket science."

"How am I supposed to tell her I'm the guy she's been watching on TV for three years?"

Nico raised his eyebrows. "Seriously? That's the issue? You have it easy then. I'm not saying to be careless, but just tell her."

I shifted on the couch. "Yeah, I guess I should."

Question of the Chapter: What do you think of Percy being a lazy boyfriend so far?

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