Fall Into The Sky

(a hundred moments, a single love)

4: insides

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god! That is disgusting!"

Annabeth shot a deadpan look at the girl across the lab table. The thing was wearing an operating mask, had on large yellow rubber gloves, and wore protective goggles over her eyes. A plastic trashbag covered her uniform to protect it from -

"Frog guts!" the girl wailed, clutching at the poor boy who stood next to her, holding the scalpel and regarding the mass of sobbing female on his arm as some sort of growth. Annabeth sighed, flicked a stray curl out of her eye, and went back to the frog. She had decided to name him Kermit, because he was the only one who stood a chance of conversing with her intelligently in this class and thus deserved a name. She pulled out the folds of his stomach that she had sliced open and pinned them to the tray carefully so as not to rent the skin in two. Intactness of the specimen was part of their grade for the lab activity.

"Dude," said the boy next to her, looking a bit green. "You're not even wearing gloves."

"They get in the way," she told him, briskly handling the small organs inside the amphibian. Heart, check. Intestines, check. Gender - male. Good.

She laid out the parts in order like Mrs. Cox had asked them to, and then washed her hands at the back sink. She dried them off and had only just reached the table again when the bell rang. Thank the gods for small favors. She turned in her tray to Mrs. Cox, who gave her an approving smile, shouldered her schoolbag and left to join the stampede in the hallways. Friday Frenzy was always the worse - screaming, flinging off of uniform jackets, lockers slamming shut all around, cell phones and mp3 players out in hordes, and girls changing into "weekend clothes" in the bathroom. She ignored the chaos as best as she was able and fought her way to her locker. I almost prefer the Hydra to this. Stuffing her books inside, she closed it and forced the rusty padlock shut before turning and charging through the solid wall of her peers.

She stepped out onto the sunny side steps, thankful that almost everyone used the front stairs. The bright light of the sun - hi, Apollo - beat through her clothes, her navy jacket sucking up the heat like a black hole. She was glad that she had her hair in a ponytail - it wouldn't get stuck to her sweaty neck this way. She took off her jacket, folded it, and stuck it in her bag. Her plaid, knee-length, blue-and-white skirt swished against her kneecaps, begging to be removed...soon, she told it. She had forgotten to wear P.E. shorts under the skirt this morning. Her white blouse cast a sort of glow about her due to the light.

"Annabeth?"

She looked up from where she stood zipping up her schoolbag. No way.

"Percy?"

He grinned broadly and bounced a bit on the seat of his bike. One foot acted as a kickstand while the other played with the pedals. "What's up, Wise Girl?"

She blinked at him, descending the stairs with a happy smile on her face. "Just got out. What are you doing here?"

"We're out for the summer," he told her with a lopsided grin. "I usually ride my bike around here, but I've never seen you before...I guess 'cause we were both got out at the same time." He looked around. "Where's your ride?"

She grimaced. "I walk home," she told him. "My dad and stepmom rented some apartment up that way, and it's not that much of a walk. Sucks during summer, though."

He patted the handlebars. "Want a ride?"

"I can't."

"I'll drive; you don't have to do anything."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"..."

"...Is this some kind of personal thing?"

"No! I...just...I forgot to put on...um...shorts. Underneath my skirt. So, you know, it'd be kind of hard..."

He blushed a deep red and chuckled awkwardly. "Why don't you just tuck your skirt really tightly under your legs? I mean, then it couldn't fly up...right?"

She blinked at him and then considered it. "Yeah, I guess it would."

He grinned again. "Hop on," he told her.

Wraping her skirt firmly around her legs, she pushed herself onto the bridge between the handlebars and grabbed the bars tightly. She squeezed her eyes shut. "Okay."

"Here we go," he told her, pushing off.

She had never done this before in her life...the only thing that she could compare it to was chariot racing. They swayed with the same motion...all that was missing was the chariot. And the horses. And the reins. This is nothing like riding a chariot! She felt her adrenaline rushing, which wasn't a good thing, seeing as her senses were already hyperactive. She bit her lip and gripped even tighter, her palms sweaty. Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods...

A gentle, calloused hand ran over her fingers gently, and she felt a wave of calm wash over her. It's okay. Everything'll be okay.

"We're stopping now," he told her as they gently glided to the sidewalk in front of her building. "This is it, right?"

"Got it in one, Seaweed Brain," she told him, clambering down. Her legs were shaking.

He smiled softly at her. "You gonna be okay?"

She nodded, smiling. "Yeah. Just freaked me out, y'know? Like riding a horse for the first time."

He laughed. "My first horse ride was great," he joked. She smacked him lightly on the head.

"Thanks for the ride, Seaweed Brain."

"You're very welcome, Wise Girl."

He leaned forward to pick something out of her hair.

"Frog guts," he said, grinning. "I remember this lab...it was fun. I didn't use gloves."

"Neither did I."

An awkward silence attempted to settle, but she fought it back ferociously. "So, hey...I get out next week."

"Cool. You heading straight back to camp?"

She looked up at the building that housed her family and sighed fondly, shaking her head. "I'm gonna try to stay...at least for a little while. Maybe we can go back together," she said. He nodded.

"Hey, do you wanna catch a movie next Friday?" he asked. "That Adam Sandler movie looks pretty good."

She raised an eyebrow. "I dunno. Are you gonna catch a building on fire and ruin our plans again?"

He grinned sheepishly. "I'll do my best not to," he promised.

She smiled. "Okay, then. Next Friday. You'll pick me up from school? We get off at eleven." He nodded happily.

They waved goodbye, and he pedaled off down the street. She watched him until he turned the corner, leaning against the side of her building. "Well, Kermit," she told the absent frog, "I owe you one. I finally got my date."

And that, children, is proof that good always comes from the insides.