A/N: this is way overdue.
-Part Three-
A high and a low,
Some sugar, some snow.
The saying 'what comes up must come down', takes on a whole new meaning when put into context.
Sugar was a great example. It fills you with energy and lifts you up high, then drops you back down the second it wears out, sucking everything out of you like a vacuum.
That was how it felt when you returned from your outing with Percy.
You arrived home a little past eleven, having taken an age to get through the busy streets still packed from the Chinese New Year celebrations, (not to mention the fact that the cab driver drove slower than a snail with arthritis (if snails could, in fact, get arthritis. You were pretty sure they couldn't)).
Your parents were waiting up for you, or at least your mother was. You could see the faint glow of the kitchen light from where you stood on the drive, shining through the window faintly like candlelight. For a moment, you considered camping out behind the garage until morning, and escaping to school before you could face her. Sadly, though, your school supplies were located in your bedroom. How much longer you would be, you didn't know.
But with all truthfulness, you knew your parents would never kick you out. The embarrassment would put a damper on their perfect reputation. And besides, school was the topmost priority in the household, and how could you possibly study if you were living under a bridge?
So you took a deep breath and climbed the steps to the front door to receive your sentence, which turned out to be a week-long grounding. You got it relatively easy, because you made up the excuse that you were doing your homework at the café, and had lost track of time. You were pretty sure that if you told the truth about where you'd been, you would have been kicked out regardless of the academic consequences; Athena was not the sort who easily pardoned foolishness, and your father, Fredrick, was putty in her hands and agreed wholeheartedly to whatever she deemed as 'unseemly behaviour'.
And so, in the restricting environment of your home and school, you soon returned to the rut that was most certainly not depression; spending every waking hour filling your head with as much knowledge as you could.
You're not sure why you resorted to knowledge in your time of need. It was calming, you supposed, to understand how the world operated; and some part of you must have believed that the more you knew about things, the more control you had over those things. And perhaps that was true, in some sense.
Mostly, it just helped fill the empty hole that was your life.
-()()()()-
It was two weeks until you saw him again.
You were in the middle of Ms. Anderson's Advanced Math class. Ms. Anderson was a peppy old woman, with a pointed nose and stick-like limbs, who constantly rehashed how important fresh air was for the mind, and was one of those people who always had the window wide open. No matter what the outside temperature was.
This tended to be rather problematic in the colder months to those of you who were not polar bears, and instead of solving the probability questions on your math sheet, you often found yourself wondering how probable it was that you would be an icicle on legs by the end of the class.
But after a many years of tutoring by Ms. Anderson, students of St. Clarence had adapted to the harsh environment of her classroom (which had been dubbed the rather suitable name of 'The Ice Box'), and despite the strict uniform regulation, they were always seen wearing a plethora of scarves, hats, and sweatshirts during their time there.
None of the other teachers said anything about it anymore. They too had felt the wrath of The Ice Box, and though it had been explained to Ms Anderson that icicles couldn't study, she had remained firm in her beliefs and opinions. Therefore, to avoid hypothermia it was decided that extra layers of clothing would be permitted in all the classes governed by said teacher.
So there you sit, all rugged up in the corner closest to the wall of open windows, with your chunky scarf pulled up over your mouth so that your warm breath would keep your face from becoming too chilled; listening to the droning voice of the teacher as she explained the many uses of the complex problems on the whiteboard.
Unfortunately, as brilliant as she was, Ms. Anderson was not a very invigorating speaker. So you often found yourself rather bored during her class, especially on days like today, where you had stayed up the entirety of the previous night reading up on Spartan history (a subject you found immensely fascinating). So with the drowsiness and the biting cold (meant to be refreshing, but was really not), you were unusually inattentive.
At some point during the speech, you find yourself leaning back in your chair, staring hollowly out the windows, watching the snowflakes that had just started to fall.
Whatever happened to spring?
The classroom was on the top story of St. Clarence and the whole right wall was covered in floor-length windows, looking out over the C shaped building that surrounded the rear courtyard of the campus, separated from the road by a simple chain link fence, which rather threw off the ornate feel of the school.
You enjoy looking out these windows. Watching the passers-by walk their dogs and scuttle to and from work. It's calming, somehow; to be able to lose yourself and watch the world work silently beneath you like a clock; to watch the same people every day following their routines without the slightest hitch.
You sometimes wish you were invisible, so you could mingle among them and watch the world turn without actually having to take part in it. Life was much more interesting if it wasn't happening to you, and other people's lives were always more fascinating than your own.
The grass was always greener on the other side of the fence, after all.
It was while you were mulling over these things, and staring half-heartedly out the window that he appeared. And he did, quite literally, just appear. One moment you were gazing at a woman and her baby going for a walk, and the next thing you know, a shape appears on the roof at the other end of the C.
You do a double take, but the figure is still there, and it's undoubtedly Percy.
A bit of panic seizes up in you. What is he doing here? Has he seen you? You quickly turn away from the window and face the front. Trying to blend in and look as oblivious as possible. Was he here for you? Had anyone else spotted him?
Cautiously, you turn your head to see if he's still there.
He is. He's sitting on the edge of the roof, legs dangling over the side. And he's watching you.
You snap your head quickly away, hoping he didn't notice you looking. It's not that you don't want to see him again. In fact, in the first few days after your little adventure, that was all you wanted. But you had quickly pushed that hope away. The chances of you seeing each other again had been extremely unlikely. But now here he was, and you're not sure what to think. He may not have even been watching you at all. There was a whole classroom of people around you. He could have been looking at any of them
Unwillingly, you take another peek. He's still looking. This time, it looks like he's smirking at you.
How infuriating.
You send him a glare, hoping he can see it from that distance.
He must, because he waves at you and continues smirking; seeming thoroughly amused by your dilemma.
Not at all the desired effect.
He really can't be here. If anyone sees him, not only will he be in trouble, but if they find out your connection to him than you could be as well. And you can't risk expulsion. Not now, when you're so close to graduating and being accepted into your dream university.
Could you just ignore him? It was a miracle nobody had spotted him already, and you couldn't just let him be caught. The guilt would kill you.
Awkwardly, you drop your hand down between the side of the chair and the window, pointing behind you as discretely as you can; staring him in the eye to make your point clearer.
Go.
He tilts his head to one side, either not understanding you or not understanding why.
You gesture more urgently, mouthing the word now, and completely forgetting about where you are.
"Miss Chase, is there something you'd like to share?"
You jump in your seat, dread settling in your stomach.
Ms. Anderson had stopped mid-speech and was now staring at you impatiently, the rest of the class mimicking her gaze; though there faces were less impatient and more curious. Looking at you expectantly as though waiting for a show to begin.
You squirm uncomfortably under their attention. "N-no. Nothing."
With a dissatisfied humph, Ms. Anderson returned to her formal stature and began where she left off without a second glance. She was the nosy sort, but she never stayed interested very long.
The rest of the girls shoot you disappointed looks and once more return to listening to the never-ending lecture. More likely they were texting their boyfriends under their desks.
Once you're quite sure that Ms. Anderson was once again fully immersed in her speech (now droning on about how arithmetic saved her life once, which was undeniably exaggerated), you sneak another peek out the window.
The slate tiled roof where he'd been sitting was now entirely deserted, looking every bit as it had before he'd appeared, minus some trampled snow.
He was gone. You sigh and turn back to the teacher.
-()()()()-
After Advanced Math was lunch, and instead of following the stream of girls to the cafeteria, you sneak your way down a different hall that leads you past the library and out into the rear courtyard.
It wasn't difficult to get away unnoticed. You often came to the library during lunch to escape the bustle and read a chapter or two before the next class, so you knew you wouldn't be spotted.
The shock of the cold as you exit out the door tingles your face uncomfortably, and you tug your scarf (which you were still donning from The Ice Box) back up over your nose, stuffing your hands under your arms and shuffling around the courtyard; head bent upward as you surveyed the roofline, rotating full circle.
You exhale in disappointment. He isn't there.
Just as you're about to turn back you hear a small clink, followed by a crunch of snow.
Spinning on your heals, you already know what you're going to see.
He's standing just on the inside of the chain-link fence, leaning against the wire, hands still clinging onto the fence behind his back, having clearly just climbed over the thing in a matter of seconds.
He tilts his head again, his green eyes sparkling; a gesture you find unmeasurably cute.
You wait for him to say something. To explain what he was doing on the roof of your school, but an awkward moment of passes between you where neither one of you speaks.
"What are you doing here?" you ask uncertainly, after deciding he wasn't going to start the conversation.
He grins. "I'm busting you out of here," He states, as though there's no doubt in the matter.
You choke. "What? I'm not in prison; I'm here on my own free will you dolt!" But was that really the truth?
He raises an eyebrow at you.
"What I mean is I want to be here."
He glances up the school and then back at you, eyebrow still raised, an expression on his face that clearly reads you can't possibly be serious.
You fumble again. Do you want to be here? For once in your life, you're not sure. There's something about this boy that made you constantly challenge everything you'd ever believed. It confused you.
"I mean, I need to be here," You attempt. "I've got to study. And besides, I've got a clean record and I don't plan on soiling it."
"Did you know that an overly clean environment can actually have a negative impact on your health?"
Out of all the comebacks you were expecting, that was definitely not one of them. Once again, Percy had left you gaping and dazed like a fish out of water. Clearly, he was smarter than he was letting on.
"Well, did you know that the word antiseptic is derived from Greek and means against rotting? And that Ignaz Semmelweis was the first to avidly encourage handwashing in hospitals after a large bout of Puerperal Fever?"
Ha! Beat that!
"Umm…no? How the heck would I know that? How the heck would anyone know that?"
"I suggest you read up on it," you say, savoring the fact that you're in control of the situation at last. "You never know when you might need knowledge in medical history."
"Actually, I'm pretty positive I never will. But I'll look up on it if you ditch."
You sigh heavily. "Look, I really can't... I should – oh, cut it out with the sad face already!" He's giving you the kicked puppy look, and it's not helping your morale. "Besides, you shouldn't be following me around like that. Most people would call that stalking."
"But I'm not most people, and I call it observing and liberating."
You let out a very Ms. Anderson-like huff, and fold your arms across your chest, in a stance that you hope conveys something like you are a pain in the butt, but more likely resembles an egotistical glower, so you cut it out almost immediately and spin on your heal, marching off towards the school. If he can't comprehend your intentions, then this ought to make them clearer.
When you turn back to face him, he shoots you with the most heartbreaking expression yet; a mixture of pity; as though he's watching your funeral unfold, mingled with don't make me ditch by myself, and a bit of I thought we were friends.
He was certainly good with the guilt tripping.
-()()()()-
Five minutes later, after the crumbling of your will (less of a crumbling and more of an annihilation), you're walking down the street away from school, with Percy skipping gleefully beside you like a little kid on his birthday.
The wind spirals viciously around you, slapping at your face and any other patches of exposed skin, reminding you of the warmth that should have been here; of the promise of flowers and ice cream and tee-shirts that had been broken by winter's obstinacy.
"You know, I think you and winter have a lot in common. His stubbornness can only be rivaled by your own."
Percy chuckles. "Have you had a look at yourself recently? You're more stubborn than the both of us combined. But," he continues, cutting your protest off in advance, "I do like winter. Summer and spring; they're alright, but winter is more…laid back and peaceful. It doesn't expect anything from you the way the other seasons do. Snow isn't all dampness and shoveling; it's delicate, like flowers, but more radiant. Summer's all fun times and sports, but winter's all hugs and cosiness. If you think about it, winter's the warmest season of all."
You think about that, and perhaps it's your imagination, but the world around you suddenly seems a little less gloomy. The trees in the park are no longer being smothered and weighed down by the piles of snow on their branches; now they look like they're drooped over sleeping; tranquil and at ease.
That is until the rain came. It started rather suddenly, as though your thoughts had pulled it right out of the sky. Starting out as a few drops, like it was testing the air, and, being satisfied, it began pouring down in buckets like someone in the heavens had instantaneously turned on a tap. The tiny drops ate away at the fragile snow like acid, melting tiny shrapnel-like holes that spread further and further.
The both of you make a run for it to the closest available cover – an antique shop that sat sadly on the corner and had probably filled with more customers in that downpour than it ever had in the entirety of its existence.
"Damn rain." Percy puffed, once you were safely situated between an 1850's bicycle and a collection of dusty vases.
"So now what?" you ask. "Your act of liberation has been infiltrated by bad weather."
He considers it. "I have a friend that lives not far from here. We can go to their place until the rain stops. Besides, this prison break never had a plan anyway, so it's not as if we're really deviating."
-()()()()-
As it turned out, Percy's version of 'not far' was very different to yours, and it took at least thirty minutes of darting from one overhang to the next like some sort of ninja-spy before you arrived.
Your efforts to avoid the downpour had little effect on the end result, however, and when you at last arrive in front of an old car mechanic, you're both sopping wet from head to toe and shivering uncontrollably.
Percy leads you across the tarmac parking lot and inside the front office, ringing out his clothing as best he can before stepping over the threshold. You follow suit, slightly confused as to why you're at a mechanic, and how exactly Percy had made acquaintance with these "friends." The room looked well cared for; the desk was tidy and free of dust, and the interior, albeit outdated, was clean overall. The only thing that drew away from the worth was the building itself. It was made cheaply of plywood and tin, and the gaps around the door and poorly fitted window allowed the cool outside air to seep through – not unlike Ms. Anderson's classroom. But there was a certain feeling of warmth about the atmosphere of the room.
You can see tell-tale signs of a homey presence scattered throughout. From the smell of chocolate to a rather familiar looking skateboard resting against a rack of magazines. You can say without a doubt that it's the same sea green skateboard you carried through the alleyways two weeks ago.
You're about to comment on it, but before you can Percy walks behind the desk to a door leading out back and tugs at it. Much to your surprise it swings right open without a key, and when Percy gestures for you to follow, you find yourself in a small but cozy living room; two tan couches arranged in an L shape around a wooden coffee table, a large vase full of colorful roses brightening up the scene.
The fact that you've entered somebody's house without permission (particularly someone who probably doesn't even know of your existence) makes you uncomfortable, and you stick close behind Percy's back as you venture deeper.
"Umm…they won't mind, right?" you whisper.
He looks at you queerly. "Nah," he says after some pause. "I practically live here."
As if to further prove his point, he walks over to a doorway leading to the rest of the house and peeks his head around it. "Esperanza? Leo?" He shouts, loud enough to make you cringe at the sudden escalate in volume. "You guys here?"
A middle-aged woman with dark hair and grease-stained overalls emerges from the hallway and places her hands on her hips, a half amused half disapproving look on her face. "Shouldn't you be in school, mister?"
"We were studying biology, and I was at serious risk of dying from entertainment withdrawal, and thought it would be tragic if I deceased while studying the science of life."
The woman, who you assume is Esperanza, chuckles and reaches up to ruffle Percy's hair. "Well, since you're here, you can help Leo fix up the old Jeep out back. And this time try not to get windshield fluid in the fuel tank."
"Hey!" Percy raises his arms in a placating gesture. "Leo was the one who swapped the bottles. And I can't help out back today; I've got a fellow escapee to watch out for."
Esperanza looks around the room, a look of surprise altering her elf-like features when her eyes meet yours.
"Percy!" she exclaims, whacking him on the arm and then pushing past him to bustle over towards you, now full on grinning.
She holds out a hand, and you readily shake it, feeling her enthusiastic demeanor rubbing off onto you. She seems to be one of those people who can brighten up a room the moment they walk in. She's short, and couldn't have been over five-foot-two, with wildly curly hair tucked messily under a baker-boy cap.
"Sorry about that oaf over there," she laughs. "I'm Esperanza."
"No problem," you grin. "I'm Annabeth. The other 'escapee'."
"So did you volunteer for this or did Percy drag you along?" She shoots a teasing look towards Percy.
"Dragged. Percy can be very…" You pause. Very what? Percy's a lot of things; there was no set label on what he was because he never seemed to be the same thing twice. Both times you've seen him he's surprised you with his ways. There was just no way to describe it.
Luckily Esperanza comes to your rescue "He gave you the puppy eyes, didn't he? He'll be the death of all of us, that boy."
"Geez you guys, I'm right here you know," Percy announces from behind you. "Have a little compassion!"
"Well, I certainly didn't keep you around for your mechanic skills." Esperanza snickers. He deflates a little and pouts; crossing his arms and staring down at the floor near his feet; causing another round of laughter at his expense.
"That hurts, Esper. That truly hurts."
"Aww, there, there." You pat him on the back with false sympathy.
He smirks at Esperanza. "You see, Esper? Annabeth treats me better than you, and I practically just met her."
"Why don't you go find Leo then. I'm sure he'll be oozing with sympathy."
He nods sullenly and mopes out the door, being sure to sigh dramatically as he exited for extra effect.
You both stare at his retreating figure, silence lingering as you gaze at the now empty door from which he disappeared. The silence wasn't at all uncomfortable, it was calming, in a sense. "So," Esperanza says at last. "How did you meet Percy?"
And so you tell her.
-()()()()-
Percy didn't return for some time. No doubt his short attention span had been distracted by something. You don't mind though. You sit on the couch with Esperanza, sipping at a piping hot cup of homemade Spanish hot chocolate (that is quite possibly the most delicious thing you've ever consumed) and just talking.
At some point, you voice the question that has been nagging at your mind subconsciously since you arrived.
"Does Percy live here?" you cringe at how forward the question sounds, and even more so when you see the expression on Esper's face.
"Sorry," you murmur quickly. "I didn't mean to pry."
You expect her to get up and leave, or change the subject, so it's to your great surprise that she stares you straight in the eye and says, "Yes. He does. You should probably know."
And she doesn't leave it at that. She continues.
"Percy's parents and Leo's father were business partners. They worked at a water plant outside the city. One night, they had to attend an urgent meeting, and they left Percy under my care.
"There wasn't supposed to be a storm. The rain had only just started when they dropped Percy off here. I guess none of us thought it would get to the ferocity it did. They made it halfway there when the storm fully hit. Rain, hail, gale force winds, the whole shebang. They found the car in the morning. None of the three made it." She pauses and intakes a shaky breath, forcing herself to hold it together.
"Percy was twelve. I wouldn't let him go to the authorities. They'd ruin him. And besides, Sally left him in my care that night. And I promised I'd look after him. Even if that night turned out way longer than it was supposed to be."
The words hang in the air, resonating through your mind as you stare blankly at the bouquet of roses, standing sunnily on the coffee table as though to taunt you with their presence; a reminder of happy things that couldn't be.
"You know," you say, perhaps trying to draw all thoughts away from the gloomy subjects, or perhaps it just popped out. "I've never really understood roses."
Esperanza glances at you, a half smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Oh?"
"Yeah," you say, your voice resolute. "Roses are supposed to be a symbol of love, right? But if you get an assortment of flowers the roses are always the first to die. It's like some sort of sick joke. The petals drop off almost instantly. They're delicate, and they make a mess. Now, if it were up to me, I'd have made lavender a symbol of love instead. Lavender lasts forever. You can dry it, make it into oil or candles, use it as a herb, and it even has medicinal values. The possibilities are endless, and if I were ever at the receiving end of a flower, I'd much rather it be one that says 'my love will last forever and is extremely versatile' as opposed to one that says 'Hey, I like you, but my love will die soon and make a mess on the floor that you'll have to clean up'."
The surprised expression and speechlessness you receive by Esperanza at the end of your little rant is enough to make you a little uncomfortable, and for a moment you wonder if you've offended her in some way. Your worries are diminished seconds later, and her face soon melts into a grin, followed by booming laughter that resonates around the room, echoing off the walls and surrounding you with the joyous sound.
"Well aren't you something." She chuckles.
-()()()()-
Percy returned shortly after, bouncing cheerily into the room with both hands stuffed unceremoniously into his jean pockets. He was trailed by a rather short, skinny boy with Esperanza's elf-like face and crazy hair. A toolbelt that looks much too large for him is wrapped around his waist, and some sort of black substance is smeared on his face and in his hair, causing the untamed locks to stick up even more wildly. He looks like he's stuck his finger in a socket and been electrocuted. You assume this must be Leo.
"Guess what we did…oh!" Leo stops short when he sees you, hands paused in the air where he had been rubbing them together. "Well hello there. Do you like mechanics?" He asks, flicking his eyebrows up and down.
Percy facepalms dramatically. "Dude, are you kidding me? You walk into your living room and see a pretty girl and the first thing you ask her is 'Do you like mechanics?'" That's seriously lame."
He turns to you. "Please forgive Leo's attempts at flirting. He's hopeless at it."
You smile, "Actually, I do know some mechanics, though I'm far from a genius in the subject."
Percy rolls his eyes and flops down on the sofa opposite you. "Of course you do."
And so the three of you launch into conversation bickering lightly, laughing, and for once, talking about silly things, nonsensical things that weren't important, and yet were the most important things of all. You have no idea how long you stayed there with your new friends, being more of a normal teenager than you ever could remember being; the time just seems to fly past. It's funny, how a few short hours could feel more important than an entire lifetime, but that's exactly how you felt at that moment, surrounded by people that you'd just met.
It was the start of a magical friendship, and it was as though all three of you knew then of the things that would unfold over the next few months. Of the bond that would hold you all together.
Or tear you all apart.
A/N: I'm really, really sorry about how long this has taken! I lost faith in my writing ability and in this story, and because of that, I've had the worst writer's block. My inspiration had finally decided to return to me, so I'm back from Hiatus (hopefully for good this time).
I'm pretty sure this story will have two or three more parts, which will hopefully be out in the coming weeks.
Please review! It helps me greatly! :)