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Annabeth's P.O.V.
Everything was done so driven, she only had felt time's true effect until she emerged into the body of limitlessness. Otherwise recognized as the ocean.
Most of Annabeth's competitions were held during the winter time; waves were remarkably massive and surfing typically is more customary during that particular season. This was her first time participating in a summer event, and she wasn't too assured about the outcomes of the day. Surfing with natives, who tended to have more of a conjointment with the water, was a high advantage. Though, Annabeth learned fast and made it mandatory that she surveyed the water she was expected to surf in. Most would find her strategy abortive, yet it granted Annabeth a favorable benefit which worked in her perspective. It commonly did.
Annabeth's grey eyes glimmered as her confidence gradually was restored. She examined the water with a burst of supportive hope and instantly thought of Percy. Her main and only surfing competitor at this event; which worried her.
She had established that she and Percy shared similar tactics, it was more of the matter as to who was more dominant while enforcing those tactics. Annabeth knew Percy was vaguely jeoparized by her; why else would he decide to look her up? It wasn't his skills that discomforted her, it was him.
Percy was, obviously, a boy who had taken some time to find some sort of interest in her. Annabeth wasn't that uneducated to simply notice it. Maybe he was intrigued by her, because she most certainly was by him. Maybe, just a teensy bit, Annabeth had anticipated something that lead further towards her relationship with Percy. In more recent terms, she wanted to be more than just an acquaintance. A friend, possibly.
Even if Percy had already accepted her as a friend, it wasn't offical until Annabeth felt the connection. Annabeth was a noteable loner. And if you were smart, slightly relateable, you'd know that isolated people had the tendency to inch away from the people who sought out to potiental friends. Annabeth couldn't trust herself or anyone else to be held in such a status called a 'friendship'. They were unpredictable. They weren't meant to last. Unless you really tried. Alas, another indecisive thought about Percy.
Annabeth sighed, twenty more minutes.
"Pictures in three minutes, relish the observance while you can," a precise and familiar voice advised.
Athena stood next to Annabeth giving her a reassuring look, "You're my daughter; you'll be OK. Remember, your strengths are what'll assist you the most today."
"I know."
"I'm sensing distress, what is it?" Athena demanded rather than asked nicely and comfortingly like a normal mother would. But, no, Athena had to be authoritive and she sought out recognition of superiority not only from her peers but from her children.
That angered Annabeth. She felt like she was they way she was because of her mother. Limiting your children from a social experience was completely unacceptable. Annabeth was shy, and horribly naïve in certain areas of social interactions it made her wince. Instead of being confused due to her unwilling restrictions she was embarassed. She wanted to operate like everyone else! Annabeth wanted all the things that were deprived of her. A friendship, able to carry herself well in topics of being social, being aware, and of course her biggest closed book; the ability to understand how boys operated.
Yeah, that is many girl's mysteries, but Annabeth was only at the beginning.
She sure as hell was ready for it.
There were two arrangements; girls formed in one line, boys the other. It honestly wasn't that much of deal. Annabeth, and her methods of overlooking irrevelant things. Thinking beyond what was necessary. And thinking beyond the meanings of particular details. It was just something she naturally acquired.
The whole purpose of the requested alignments was to portray a battle between the girls and boys surfing at the day's event. Your classic Battle of the Sexes. Annabeth, who always is the one to think logically, was the first to point out the most obvious error of the picture's ideal formation.
"We intentionally are competitng against one another, I don't know about these girls but I actually plan on whooping some guys butt today. So, can anyone explain the meaning of this picture?"
As soon as the words escaped from her mouth she wished she had never thought of speaking. Ever again. Remain the mysteriously talented girl who is estimated to be worthy enough to surf at the day's event. That was what Annabeth was acknowledge as, and she didn't want any other part of her personality to be exposed. If they were anything like her, they'd used what they already knew about said person to their advantage.
As the photographer looked up from his lense, an unlooked-for grin of amusement formed as he looked at Annabeth, "You know, that's actually a good point. Surfers remain in two lines but I want an even mixture of boys and girls in each, all right?"
Annabeth remained where her current place was and glared at anyone who gave her an expectant look to move. Percy stumbled over next to her, a smirk placed gracefully on his features, he muttered, "Wow, you take pictures seriously don't you?"
Annabeth presented him a brief smile that extended into a grin, "No, I just correct obvious details that should not be neglected."
Percy snorted, "Sure, now let's see that beautiful smile."
Annabeth didn't move an inch of her lip muscles, though her rosy tinted cheeks were something she couldn't pull herself together to control.
"All right, Surfers, I want each of you to give the person in front of you a fierce look, maybe throw in an arm to show how intense this competition is to you?" the photographer politely asked and instructed. How he managed to take shots of all of them from such an awkward angle, Annabeth could only praise him for capturing well-defined shots.
Annabeth looked at the person in front of her, a boy, with a mop of brown hair. Blue eyes that resembled the sun's sky when at sunset. An upturned nose that made his elf-like qualities more prominent from the others. But what really tripped Annabeth out was the fact there was an exact replica, maybe taller, of the boy. He had a posture and grin that screamed of unavoidable trouble.
Annabeth tried to look at him fierce determination, possibly even unsettle him, but the legendary duck lips were plastered on his lips. Annabeth glanced at Percy and noticed him doing the same expression. Annabeth was confused, and apparently so was the girl facing Percy.
"Um, excuse me, but are we supposed to take a group 'selfie' or something because y'all got some pretty deformed fierce looks?" Percy's opposing girl asked, giving him an unamused slightly exasperated look, her country accent flaring heavily.
The photgrapher laughed, "No, we'll take a funny group picture later. Let's focus on the more sedated side of this competition, yeah?"
Percy rolled his eyes at the girl infront of him and mouthed 'snitch' at Annabeth. She shoved him in a gesture to pay attention.
After ten minutes of smiles, glares, and duck lips the photo session was settled. As everyone prepared for the competition, Annabeth took her time to once more examine the agressively formidable waves that collapsed destructively against the shore. An awakening extract of water and easeful sand flowing through the toes of her clenched feet. She breathed ponderously, unintentionally luring the heavy waft of the ocean's essence into her nostrils. Closing her eyes in assured content; water sprinkled against her skin, serving as a sort of rejuvenation center. It was moments like these where she was more comforted by the ocean's limitless power rather than feeling as though she was at battle and the ocean was an enemy she had yet to overmaster. And once she gained the control of the ocean, there were to be another battle. A battle of deducing.
Then, as always, a speculation of reality triumphed the irrational part of her mind. The only control of the ocean you received was from a board. Even then, the ocean is controling that insignificant wave that means the absolute world to you. That's where Annabeth noticed the ocean's evasive though nonetheless persuavive ways. It takes someone with deep insight to fully understand the ocean in sentimental terms. Anyone could understand it scientifically.
That is why surfing meant so much to Annabeth. She was granted the least bit of minor dominance when she was on a board. A board was a surfer's connection to the dynamic mystery. Only someone who was been so involved with the ocean could properly and have their varying ways as to explaining how effective the oceab is to them. At seven, the ocean had already captured Annabeth's fascination; when she was breaching her teens, that's where the time consuming thoughts entered her mind. Annabeth could sit down for hours, watching the ocean, her feet rested securely in the sand, with water rolling up at the edges of her feet.
Annabeth grabbed her board, and frowned when she sensed someone's eyes on her. Sending her into a frenzy of discomfort. As Annabeth turned to her right, Percy was gazing intently at her, his orbs tensed in sturdy determination. Cutely odd? Yes. Unsettling? How 'bout an emphasized yes.
She tried. Oh, she truly within all her heart tried to ignore him. Though, her competitive instincts took over and she glared at him, with an equivalent amount of intensity. Percy held momentary confusion until he acknowledged Annabeth's stare. He quickly turned away, though not fast enough for Annabeth to observe the light rose tint that stained his cheeks. For some inexplicable reason she smiled smally, an indication of fondness sweeping at the corners of her defiant lips.
Annabeth made out a faint sound of a whistle coming from above the effortful dunes to properly navigate your soles. Annabeth wasn't allowed an unhindered view of the crowd, but from their distance they could see everything.
A woman, with a bundle of intricately woven flowers in her hair walked towards the cluster of surfers. Her hips swaying involuntarily, or it was done out of a consistent habit. Annabeth was assured that this woman was an experienced hola dancer, at least. The way her body moved naturally paired with a radiant smile. You'd be stupid to justify her as a surfer.
"Hello," the woman greeted warmly, "I am here to inform you all of the Surfer's Etiquette. Now, now- I know many of you are and should be aware of these rules; though, as tradition, I will remind you. Aggressiveness blinds potiental courtsey, no?"
Everyone nodded in agreement, signaling that it was necessary for the woman to commence her speech. "Well, I am Lana. Anyway, here we go. . ."
As Lana began to list off the Surfer's Etiquette, Annabeth made mental bullet points in her heard, regardless of knowing the rules by on-point recital. Rule 1: Don't drop in on another surfer; Rule 2: The surfer closest to the peak has the right-of-way; Rule 3: Paddling surfer must yield to surfer riding the nearest wave; Rule 4: Don't, by all standards, ditch your board; and Rule 5: Don't be a snake. Despite many surfers having a relative disliking towards the first rule, due to it being labeled as a 'surfer's worst sin', Annabeth couldn't stand the last rule. By all means, if you happen to steal her wave- there will be severely enforced consequences. If anything, by general observation or Annabeth's normal game-day stare, you'd know not to steal Annabeth's wave. Not because you don't typically favor her as a person but because, if you've been accused, you will adhere to disqualification. Which rarely happened. The judges loved tricks and emulous deception.
Lana sent her farewell, and advised them to listen out for a whistle once they all had enter the water.
Annabeth walked towards the water, enabling the water to reach up towards her hoisted herself routinely onto her board, patiently waiting for the other surfers to come to an alignment with her. Annabeth heard the soft sound of paddling arise all around her and she braced herself for the most unavoidable interactions of them all.
The Trash Talking Sessions.
"Jeez, dude! How long has the sun been neglecting you? You make the snow seasons look like summer."
Annabeth felt sorry for the boy who was being tormented, he looked about a year younger than her, no one deserved to be called out on their appearances. It's what catagorized them as an unique individual. As the boy continued being tormented, Annabeth felt like it was here duty to halt the unnecessary remarks.
"Leave him alone. Just-"
The said bully interrupted, a smirk plasted with hidden consolation. He found his new target, "Wow. Chase, right? I never knew how hot you'd be. I expected some dumb blonde who just so happens to kick ass at surfing. . .But I guess I shouldn't judge, eh?"
Annabeth blushed, and looked over to Percy for assistance. Percy narrowed his eyes at the boy, his jaw clenched, and an irritated look matching his general mood at that point. Annabeth had never been in a situation like this, and the fact that she was confusing his insults as minor cimpliments was utterly wrong on so many complex levels.
"I'm Michael, by the way," the bully, Michael, advised her. Sending Annabeth, what she could only presume, a winning smile that could easily be confused for a major seizure. It almost seemed like smiling was an extremely unorthodoxed strain. Michael wasn't ugly, what made him peculiar was a smile didn't fuse properly with his permanent scowl. He was uniformly angry. Annabeth felt like he feed off of other's humiliation to get his portion of attention. If someone thought endlessly taunting someone was a pure form of fun, there was something genuinely wrong with them.
When Annabeth didn't respond he rolled his cerulean colored eyes, murmuring inaudible jeers about blondes. After hearing a dumb blonde joke, that he had the boldness to voice out loud, and was given an actual response. . .Annabeth was cracked.
Confined and apprehensive Annabeth was replaced momentarily with confident and attidude present Annabeth.
"Your stereotypical characterization of fair-haired females reveals an appalling lack of perspicacity that casts a stifling blanket of ignominy upon you and those obsequious others who share an indecorous appreciation for your loutish attempt at humor."
Micheal could only stare at Annabeth. When she was rewarded with no absolute response (from Michael and the others) she said, "Exactly, you judgemental prick. Maybe if you stopped rolling your eyes you'd find a damn brain in there."
Annabeth huffed, feeling slightly guilty. Though expressing her cloistered tenderness was not an option to be considered for her. She wanted to show Michael that she may be quiet and isolated but if you messed with her. . .There'd be something worse than harsh retorts. Malcolm was a healthy, still walking, not-close-to-being-annihilated-yet example of her various rampages. She was stable and mostly content, competitions were just her excuse and the cause of her renovated personality.
If Annabeth were to normally walk down the hallways of her school and be confronted with an issue as so, she would bow her head, comfortingly squeeze her books tightly to her chest, blush in shame, and go on throughout the day hoping to reach a final stop. It was weird. She was more confident and more of an image of herself when surfing but at school she was a nobody. Not Annabeth Chase, the extreme surfing extrodinaire. She wished. Maybe even have a possible friend by now if her classmates knew what talent she possessed.
Annabeth sensed the movement of the ocean's water become scantly more exaggerated until she felt a board and knee slide against her's. The intensity of the abrupt closeness made Annabeth's skin shudder in suppressed euphoria. By now, Annabeth realized Percy had been the noteable cause of her unidentified feelings.
"Wow, Annabeth, I didn't know you could talk like that," Percy praised, grinning needlessly, acting as though they weren't about to compete against each other. Percy was her only main concern. Annabeth could only reasonably compare herself to Percy hence the explanation for her direct challenge. No one else in the water mattered to her but Percy Jackson.
"Competition stress," she explained casually while Percy's sea green orbs were filled with muffled amusement. As suspected.
"Sure, Annabeth, sure. You know I should start calling you Witty Girl, it suits, yeah?"
"How strongly do you want my opinion?"
"Never mind, how 'bout Wise Girl? It's technically a compliment," Percy notified her, winking when she blushed as a sign of approval.
"I think Wise Girl suits, Seaweed Brain," Annabeth told him, a grin dancing ferociously onto her tightly sealed lips when he frowned.
"Why, of all names, do you like that one the most?"
"It makes me feel good about myself and sort of allows me to recognize my intelligence," Annabeth said softly. It was wrong. Calling him Seaweed Brain due to her esteem problems, but Percy seemed to understand once his eyes softened into a gaze of concern. She was thankful that he was more. . .understanding.
Unlike Michael who was annoyingly insensitive about certain topics and feed himself personal triumph on regards to wrongly guided behavoir. Annabeth felt that her mysteries on boys were starting to clear up. On terms of their actions and/or words aimed towards girls.
In an unconscious sort of way, even if it was done unknowingly by him, Percy was assisting her more than ever by just being himself. The comparison between Percy and Michael gave her a strange amount of access to finally uncovering her most desperate mystery.
A shrill noise sounded throughout the given area, signaling that the competition was finally starting.
She felt it before she could see it. She noticed her board rising extraordinarily high, the water calmly imprisining its victims. She took this moment as an advantage, one that would set her above the others.
Annabeth pushed her body forcefully onto the board, the board reacting naturally and sinking beneath the lesser waves being made. She felt the coldness of the water consume her body, making her want to shiver, and pushed herself forwards; the waves were responsible for the partial leverage she would get. As she resurfaced, nearing what she deeply hoped would appoint her in the lead, she noticed a figure before her, their arms stroking through the water with such an ease. She had the right-of-way. Regardless if another surfer just so happened to be faster than her. Shen then gazed, her grey eyes narrowed with outrageous intensity, at the figure as they maneuvered themselves onto their board expertly, suring one of Annabeth's favorable waves. A tube wave.
Tube waves were possibly the most intriguing waves to Annabeth. It was a feeling you could only describe from experience. The way the water was sculpted around you, forming an arch, with droplets of water sprinkling against your face randomly, increasing your adrenaline rush. It was the best feeling when you were able to escape a tube wave. Especially a grans one. Annabeth couldn't think of anything more embarassing than getting caught in a tube wave.
Just watching someone else surf her wave was irritating. And you know who it was?
Percy.
Don't be a snake or the venom will come back to haunt you, Annabeth thought bitterly.
To say she was pissed at Percy was an extreme understatement. It was an emphasis not even her mind was suitable to describe.
Hi. Again. Sorry for any grammar mistakes or if anything seems awkward. ;o I typed this w/o auto correct & I was just over it. It's annoying when I type fast and it confuses 'Percy' for 'pasta'. Sigh.
I would love it if you guys reviewed. My goal is to finish this story with at least 200 reviews & I can't do it myself. Well, I can, but I think that's a bit desperate..heh. But I do love FEEDBACK. I feel like no one likes to review or something..
HEY! GUESS WHAT? I have a new oneshot up. It would rock if you guys checked that out. Make my day, too.
Well, anyway, have an awesome day/night! :) Thank you guys, again.
-That Was Such A Face Palm -.\
