So, I just posted the story this morning. Within the first half hour, a review. I'm quite content, really. Jacey was my OTP for the longest time (guys, my OTP is Percico, sorry if I led you to believe otherwise). I do still enjoy Jacey stories though. They're both cute and power hungry. Always makes for an interesting couple.

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Percy's POV

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"Percy, are you even listening?" Jason asked irritably. I shook the fog from my brain and slouched in my seat, turning my sea green eyes on him. "Right," he said, rolling his eyes. "So I was thinking of wider in the back, shorter in the front. And round off the very front so it dips in the middle. Aerodynamic!" Jason sure seemed excited about this project. I looked over at his sketch. "We can still use the CD tires with balloons over them to stop friction. That's a stroke of pure genius Percy." I couldn't help it; I glowed a little at his praise. No one had ever called me a genius before. But I couldn't show I actually liked it. I was supposed to hate him, after all.

"Fine," I said breezily, gazing down. My hair flipped into my face again, and through it I could see Jason studying me with a thoughtful frown. "What?" I snapped, jerking my head up. "Don't study me like I'm our project!" Back to hating him again.

"Nothing," he said, a faint blush painting his cheeks pink. "I was just wondering why you have such long hair. It's unusual for a guy to have it passed their ears." Great. Now I felt self-conscious about my hair. I tucked it behind my ears and shrugged.

"I like it long," I said. "If you have such a problem with it, Grace, I can chop it off." He held up his hands in a peace gesture, looking alarmed at the sudden hostility.

"I never had a problem with it!" he shot back. "I was just commenting. Jesus Christ Jackson, what's your deal?" My blood was boiling to dangerous levels.

"What's my deal?" I droned sarcastically. "What's my deal? I'll tell you my deal. I don't like you. I hate being your partner, and I can't wait for this stupid project to be over so I can get rid of you!" Jason looked like he was going to say something back, but instead he buried his face in his hands and bolted out of the room. Nineteen pairs of eyes watched him go, then they turned to glare at me. "What?" I asked heatedly. "I was just being honest."

"Can I talk to you Percy?" Mrs. Arnald said, motioning for me to follow here. I was in deep shit now. I followed her out into the hall, and she closed the classroom door.

"Look Mrs. Arnald," I began. "If it's about what I said…"

"Did you ever wonder why you were paired up with Jason?" Mrs. Arnald interrupted, and I stopped mid-apology. I guess I always thought it was a random draw. "It's no accident you two were paired up together," she said. "I've noticed you boys were always so distant. But I never thought anything of it. Until Jason asked if there was any way he could paired up with you for this project." I nearly choked on my own spit.

"Jason asked if he could be my partner?" I asked in disbelief. "And it's snowing in July. Seriously, Mrs. Arnald, there's no way he asked if he could be my partner. We hate each other." But she was shaking her head.

"Jason doesn't hate you," she replied. "It upsets him that you hate him. I think it bothers him more than he'd care to admit, but it does. It bothers him a lot. He hoped working on this project together would perhaps resolve whatever has been going on between you two boys, but it doesn't appear to be working. I suppose I'll have no choice but to split you two up."

"No, no," I said before I could stop myself. "I'll try harder to be nice to him. As we say in drama, 'Always look forward to a new opportunity.' I don't even know why I hate him, but I do." Mrs. Arnald gave me a thin smile and squeezed my shoulder. She moved passed me and went into the classroom, where all the activity began to pick up again. But my heart wasn't in the project anymore. I wanted to find Jason and apologize for my behavior. I jogged off down the direction he went, and when I heard sniffling in the bathroom, I paused. I shoved the door open with my shoulder. "Jason?" I asked, and the sniffling stopped.

"What do you want Jackson?" he asked with as much scorn as he could muster. Which wasn't much at this point in time. "Leave me alone will you? You've made your point very clear. You hate me. Don't you think I don't know that? I'm smarter than people give me credit for." I sagged against the wall.

"You're talking to the dumb idiot who can't get above a C to save his life," I replied to that. "And you dare call yourself stupid." I chuckled sadly. "Nice try Grace. You're ploy for attention is up." The stall door slowly opened and Jason came out, smiling a little. "See? That's better," I said.

"Why do you hate me?" he asked. "Did I do something wrong to you? If I did, I'm truly sorry. I don't like being mean to anybody." I sighed. Perfect Jason Grace, once again. I didn't know if I loathed him or pitied him at this point.

"You've done nothing wrong," I assured. "It's my own petty feelings getting in the way. I'll try to tame them for the two weeks we're partners." He frowned, but he said nothing, so I forged on. "After all, we have to blend creative ideas."

"Yeah," he said. "Hey, tell you what. I have a deal for you. If, at the end of two weeks you actually can stand me, you say you'll be my friend. But, if you still hate me after this, I won't bother you ever again." Jason Grace out of my life for good? Hell yeah!

"Fine," I said. "But don't get your hopes up. I don't change my mind easily." This time, he gave me a genuine smile.

"We'll see about that," he said slyly. "I can be very persuasive when I want to be. Hey, I don't have practice tonight. Wanna go to the library after school and work on our project some?" The idea was a repulsive one, but I nodded all the same.

"Sure," I replied. "I didn't have anything planned. Might as well get an early start on the building phase." Jason grinned and took off down the hall.

"Text me after school and tell me where your locker is!" he called over his shoulder. "I'll meet you there!" He disappeared around the corner, and I pulled my phone out of my pocket. Without actually meaning to, I memorized his number.

…

I sent a text to Jason as I juggled my books in my arms and tried, unsuccessfully, to open my locker door. The struggle was very real today. In English I we were studying different literary styles, and we had about ten books we were looking at. It wasn't fun trying to get everything into my locker. Or open my locker with all my shit in my arms.

"Here, I got you," a voice said, and my stack of books disappeared as Jason loaded them into his arms. I blinked at him in surprise and swirled my lock around. I opened the door and began stuffing books in. I didn't think they'd all fit. It was a tight squeeze as it was. "You sure have a lot of stuff Perce," he said, gazing around my cramped locker. "And you say you aren't a bright kid." I grabbed my bag and slammed my locker shut.

"I'm not," I said through gritted teeth. "I'm in the lowest math they could put me in because they don't know what the hell to do with me." I strode ahead of him. Hell was a sauna right now. Boiling fucking hot. Hell wouldn't see snow, ever. Jason caught up quick, and we walked side by side until we reached to library. He sat down at the nearest table, and I sat across from him. There was no way I was sitting beside me. I'd rather be hunted by Michael at this point in time. I knew agreeing to come here after school was a bad idea. I remembered why I hated him so much. He was so sarcastic. So snarky. So…perfect. Why did Jason have to be so perfect? Why did he have to take an interest in me all of a sudden?

"Percy, you okay?" he asked me after a few minutes of silence. "You look like you're not quite here right now." I sighed.

"I'm not," I said. "You asked why I hate you." Jason froze, and his intense blue gaze focused solely on me. "You're so perfect, it's almost unbelievable. You have so many friends, you're always the first for everything, and you get straight A's. I've never seen you fail anything. I wish I could be you, just for a day, so I'd know how it feels. That, Jason Grace, is why I hate you so much. You're everything I want to be." Jason sat in stunned silence while I ducked my head, tears streaming down my cheeks. God, why did I say that? "You know what, I think I'm going to go," I said, rising from my chair. Jason sprang up from his seat and grabbed my wrist.

"Percy, wait," he said. "That's why you hate me? Because you think I'm better than you?" He shook his head. "Don't think that Perce. It isn't true. I wish I could be half the man you are. You're kind and considerate. You rarely judge. Annabeth and Grover really like you. Even if you aren't smart, the teachers adore you. I don't have that. They think I'm some kind of troublemaker." I smiled fainly.

"Could it be because Thalia left you a bad rep?" I asked. I knew Jason had an older sister named Thalia, and I also knew she'd given the freshman teachers a pretty hard time. Jason groaned.

"My god Thalia," he said with a laugh. "I forgot she had to deal with them too. The only one who treats me like I'm not a criminal is Mrs. Arnald. That's probably a good thing." He gazed at me shyly. "I wouldn't be paired up with you if she didn't treat me right." I gulped. Now why did he have to say a corny thing like that?

"Is Jason Grace actually being corny?" I asked, and he blushed. "And blushing. Somebody call the news. Front page story right here!" Jason laughed and sat back in his seat. This time, I sat beside him, and we went over the notes together. We finally settled on a design that incorporated both of our ideas that we liked. I was excited. Jason invited me over to his place so we could work on the body of the car, and I accepted without hesitation. It was only after he left that I remembered I was supposed to hate him.

…

"How'd the study date go?" mom asked me as I let myself into the apartment. I gazed at the clock in the living room, and winced. I'd been at school for almost three hours after the final bell rang at two thirty. "You and Jason are really hitting it off, huh?" I turned sharply to her.

"How'd you know that was who I was with?" I asked, hanging my backpack up on the hook by the closet door. I slipped my light jacket into the closet and made my way into the kitchen. I stole a cookie from the cookie jar and sat down at the table, flipping open my General Math book. "I never said who I was studying with. And we weren't studying. We were designing a car." My mom laughed.

"Alright, alright, your stepfather called me," she said. I frowned.

"Why would dad call you?" I asked. "Just cause he's the principal doesn't mean he needs to spy on me." She chuckled.

"He just saw someone you don't usually pal around with, and checked the files. Jason's got a pretty clean record. His sister, not so much." She sipped at her iced tea and leaned back in her chair. "How did the designing go?" she asked me. My face lit up as I pulled the design out of my notebook.

"It went well," I replied. "This is what we came up with. Jason had the brilliant idea of rounding the front out so it isn't so top heavy. He called me a genius for coming up with the wheels. Me, mom, a genius!" She laughed.

"My little boy's in love," she said. I wrinkled my nose in disgust.

"Eww, what mom, no," I said. "I hate Jason. I just told him I'd try and be friendly while the project was going on. Today actually wasn't so bad. It went better than I thought it would. He pretty much called me perfect…" I halted in my tracks and stared at her. "Mom, Jason called me perfect," I said. I gathered my things and fled to my room, slamming the door shut behind me. I wasn't perfect. Not by a long shot. The only thing that I could even consider perfect about me was my hair. Speaking of that, it was time to comb it. I sat down at my dresser and picked up my brush.

I ran the brush through the snarls and gazed at my reflection. I always hated the way my eyes looked too big for my face. I hummed softly as I ran the brush though my hair. I actually enjoyed getting all the tangles out and making it feel nice and soft. It was one of the things I was actually good at. Maybe it was time to be a little stereotypical and be a hairdresser. A gay hairdresser.

"God Jason," I mumbled, setting the brush aside. "Why do you have to make things so fucking complicated? My life was fine until you had to come and butt into it." I slouched in my seat and said his number over and over. I still had it memorized. Storm clouds were brewing in hell tonight.

…

I have no idea if that was longer or not. This will probably be a typical chapter length since I have a thousand other things to update before you all kill me.