Chapter 1
The air around them was overbearingly heavy, thick as a winter's blanket and as suffocating as summer's hellish humidity. Silence traced the air in weaving patterns, going through each atom in the room, infecting everything that had the potential to carry a noise. The windows rattled a tiny bit from the wind outside making an earthquake from a pin dropped on the floor. An awkwardness personified itself between the two women. Well, between the woman and the girl.
Sally Blofis' office was rather posh and very up to date with modern times with a flat screen TV, an austere desk meant for aesthetic more so than function, and two mega sized black bean bags that were more like black holes than seating. A funky lamp decorated the corner with bends and twists in its silvery post. The hardwood floors were darker than mocha and the rug decorating them whiter than the tundra. Yet, it still had a nostalgic feel of home and warmth. It felt as though a fire was burning somewhere, shedding its light and wellness to the occupants of the room despite there being no fireplace. If one tried hard enough, they might've even been able to smell chocolate chip cookies baking.
Piper wasn't sure if it was the place itself that gave off the comforting ambiance or Sally Blofis herself who seemed perfectly capable of bringing the particular air wherever she went. Even her smile when she greeted Piper reeked of happiness, patience, and the general sense of being safe.
Piper hated it.
Just Sally's smile made it hard for her to keep up her tantrum. She knew sixteen was way too old to be acting the way she was, but at the moment she honestly and truly did not care. Piper wanted to throw a tantrum and she would. She'd throw the best goddamn tantrum on the planet including feet stomping, the silent treatment, and other arrays of childish behavior.
In her opinion Piper shouldn't have even needed to come to Sally's. Piper didn't need a psychiatrist or psychologist or whatever the hell Sally's profession was. Piper hadn't exactly been in the mood for listening to her father when he told her of her Saturday plans.
So here in Sally's office Piper sat, her feet purposefully propped on the couch along with the rest of her body curled in a ball. It had been raining out that day, hard rain with plump rain drops that splat! consistently on the ground and Piper's years old Converses. She had made sure to step in all the mud she could before entering the building with Sally's office and now she made sure to put that mud to good use.
Agitation stirred in Piper's abdomen. She was just so angry. She wished a thousand times she didn't have to be there in that stupid office with its stupid furniture and stupid vibe. She wished a million times that her father hadn't pushed her over the edge that ended with her here. She wished a billion times that the whole scenario could be erased from history. She wished a trillion times that her father had never taken that high profile case all those years ago.
So maybe she shouldn't have been taking it out on the poor woman who had been nothing but nice to her, but it felt so good. She knew her father was paying big money for these sessions and it was decadently evil for Piper to waste them. She felt like Eve taking the first bite of that poisonous apple.
Ten painful minutes passed by in the room without a word breathed in the air. Sally sat in her own chair, waiting patiently. She didn't seem to be in any hurry and looked perfectly content with waiting no matter how long and excruciating it was for Piper.
Piper still had her knees drawn to her chest, but she was getting severely antsy. It was hard to play the quiet and still game when one had ADHD, but Piper mustered all her willpower to keep going. She didn't think she could keep the attitude up much longer.
Another minute ticked slowly passed.
Finally, Sally said something.
"Piper, would you like to talk to me?"
Her voice took Piper by surprise. Of course she had already heard it when she first arrived to the office. Sally had introduced herself as Sally Blofis, saying she preferred to be called Sally, and she stuck out her hand to shake with Piper's. Piper had stomped past her without so much as a glance and plopped herself on the couch while her father carried a hushed and rushed conversation with the older woman. They had acted like Piper didn't know they were talking about her. Well, it was more her father that acted like that. At least in her opinion.
So, no, it wasn't the sound of Sally's voice that took Piper by surprise, it was her tone.
Whenever Piper pulled stunts like this with her father he'd always grow incredibly hot and frustrated with her. His voice would turn a bit hostile and he'd act as though she'd been wasting his time.
With Sally, her voice remained gentle and serene. She didn't sound upset that Piper was as unresponsive as a rock or that she had muddied her most likely expensive couch. Sally sounded like she genuinely wanted to actually help Piper, not that she wanted to not have to deal with Piper.
Maybe it was this change in pace that caused Piper to blurt out a quick and scratchy, "No."
Sally nodded respectfully, but Piper saw her trying to repress a smug smirk. She hadn't expected Piper to talk at all, so the simple one word was already progress.
"Well," said Sally just a tad too casually. "If that's the case then I'm going to make myself a nice drink. Would you like anything, Piper? I have coffee. I'm not much of a coffee person myself, too much bite and bitterness to be enjoyed, but I do love hot chocolate. Would you rather hot chocolate?"
This time Piper didn't answer, but Sally didn't seem dissatisfied.
Sally hummed a tranquil tune that Piper recognized, but couldn't place as she made her drink. Out of a mini fridge Sally pulled a can of whipped cream and towered it on to the steaming hot chocolate. Piper felt her mouth begin to water, she was always a sucker for chocolate, any kind really, and she felt the immense nagging of want. Piper tore her eyes away.
To her surprise, when Sally walked back to the sitting area of the room she didn't take the drink with her and instead placed the mug on a daffodil coaster on the coffee table in front of Piper.
"This one's not for me." She said sweetly, her blue eyes with traces of mirth.
Sally went back to the mini kitchen and made another hot chocolate with not nearly as much whipped cream and sat back down in her original spot.
Piper still hadn't touched her drink yet and Sally pretended not to notice. Another minute ticked by in the same silence that echoed throughout the room like a ghost. Neither was tangible and both always made one feel slightly haunted. Tentatively, Piper reached her tan hand out to grab the mug. She was careful not to let it spill over as she brought it to her lips and blew on it before taking a sip. It was absolutely delicious, probably the best hot chocolate she ever had. Piper couldn't understand how just a drink could make her bubble inside with some sort of chocolate induced joy.
A small smile started to creep onto her face, but was quickly vanquished when she realized it.
Sally still didn't say anything. Piper really, really appreciated that.
Four more minutes ticked by. Piper wasn't sure how long she'd been here, but the rain was beginning to let up into a small sprinkle with needle drops. She felt her lip coated in whipped cream and wiped her jacket sleeve against it, adding to the many stains that already decorated the article.
"You know, Piper, we don't have to talk about why your d-, father, brought you here. We can talk about anything you'd like. Or we could even just play a bored game. I'd just really appreciate some interaction between us if it's okay with you." Sally sounded so sincere.
She reminded Piper of something she'd never have with her patience and kindness and all around loving nature. She reminded her of a mother.
"I-I don't think I'd like to talk now." Piper said a bit shakily in her raspy voice.
Sally's face fell, almost imperceptible, but Piper saw it and quickly made amends.
"Uh, but I'd be up for a board game." Piper rushed the words from her mouth. For some reason she really didn't want to hurt Sally's feelings.
"I'll go get a couple." Sally beamed a smile, and walked over to a dark wooden bookshelf littered with colorful boxes, her heels clacked against the floor.
Piper had to go there three times a week. When her father first told her that she had slammed her bedroom door in his face and locked herself in her safe haven. Now, she wasn't so sure how bad it would be.
Chapter 2
When Piper entered Sally's office on Monday after school she kept in mind to take off her ratty, old shoes first before relaxing on the couch. She had a new found respect for the older woman and no amount of annoyance or resentment towards her father could tarnish that.
She had been in a good mood that day. School had went relatively well for once. Her English teacher, Miss Caprice, had been out sick that day with the flu and was unable to assign them the writing assignment that had originally been due that Friday. Now Piper would have a whole weekend to work on it. Also, she had received her French test back during seventh period and was more than a little smug to see she had been the only one in the class to score higher than a 95. She had gotten a 99, only missing a point for not conjugating a word in the proper tense, just a simple, stupid mistake.
In fact, her good mood was so uplifting to her normal negativity that she even contemplated apologizing to Sally for the previous meeting. Though she wasn't sure if her stubbornness would allow it since that would practically be admitting defeat and she had been in the wrong and her tantrum had been for nothing. Which was all true, but that didn't mean it had to be said.
Today Sally was at her desk. The same desk that was barely functional with one thin drawer and a tower of papers and folders on top to keep up the look of the place. Piper began to grow a sneaking suspicion that it wasn't Sally herself that designed the office. Sally was practical and nurturing. She would've rather had a working desk than a cool looking desk that made filing one hundred times more difficult. At least that was the groove Piper was getting.
Sally looked up from whatever paperwork she had been doing, gray glasses framing her face. She gave a tired smile towards Piper and held up her petite pointer finger to indicate she'd be a moment. Piper hadn't notice it last session, but Sally looked older. Wrinkles etched her forehead, her eyes drooped a bit at the corners, dark rims of purplish black left their faint trace beneath her eyes. She wasn't sure why she was so surprised, but to Piper Sally had seemed like one of those timeless people that never actually looked or acted older. She just assumed Sally was a bit ethereal in the few hours she had known her.
After a few moments of only the sound of the scratching of graphite against paper, Sally heaved a sigh, stood from her desk chair, and strode over to the seating area where Piper had already made herself lavishly comfortable. She sighed much more pleasurably as she eased herself in to the soft cushions of her ebony colored chair. Tension released itself almost instantaneously from her shoulders like a sky clearing away its gray, gloomy clouds only to expose a bright, blooming sun.
Sally told herself she needed a vacation and soon. The Bahamas were sounding more than nice at that time of year.
"Hello, Piper. How are you doing?" Sally asked, her voice obviously portraying how overworked she truly was. Yet, she still sounded sincere and interested in how Piper was actually doing. Whenever her father asked her that, well, if he asked her, it was more automatic and mandatory rather than genuine curiosity and concern.
It took a bit for Piper to response. She teetered on the prospect of again not saying anything because the silence was just so pleasant to her mind and ego; it was her safety net that never failed for her to fall back on. Nothing wrong could be said with silence.
But no... that wasn't exactly fair. And hadn't Piper wound up in this situation from trying to be proactive on receiving fairness? She might've been stubborn, but she sure as hell was not a hypocrite. At least she tried not to be.
"I'm doing... Well." Piper tested out the words on her tongue. The situation was slightly unfamiliar. It felt odd to have someone care. She felt a little giddy from it, if she wanted to tell the truth.
Sally nodded, her long, brown hair shifting along with her head's movement.
"And how was school?"
"It was well, too. I got a good grade on my French test." Piper said. Despite the joy Sally's caring brought it also made Piper a little awkward. She felt herself starting to close in as if she were a turtle tucking into its shell. Despite Piper feeling like she exuberated confidence she was really quite shy in new situations. People getting too close to her set off a panic button inside her head.
It's only her job, she reminded herself. She wasn't sure if she fully believed herself.
"Piper, that's great!" A huge grin spread on Sally's face, her excitement was contagious and Piper began feeling her own smile begin to perk up, but it failed to fully form.
"Yea, I guess it's pretty good." Piper pulled a nonchalant shrug.
"It really is." She was still sincere, but unsaid words hung at the end of the sentence like a shadow lingering on a person or the breath of wind that one was never really sure they had felt it on the back of their neck.
The realization hit Piper like a freight train going 200 mph. Of course Sally was being nice to her, of course she was acting as though she cared about Piper. Was she ever even excited over Piper's French test? Probably not.
This was Sally's job. Piper's father was paying her to... fix her?... punish her? Piper wasn't exactly sure, but she definitely knew that Sally was only trying to befriend her in order to get the story out of her. She wanted to worm her way into Piper's brain and learn how she stole a BMW and make her feel sorry for it and draw up some kind of plan that would make Piper normal. That would make her recognize her kleptomania all so she could receive a big fat pay check. She wasn't having any of it.
Piper had heard the phrase "killing with kindness" on multiple occasions, but never had it hit home so much. She had felt that maybe she could've actually trusted Sally sometime in the future, but now that was absolutely impossible. She should've known from the beginning when Sally offered that hot chocolate to her that it was all just a scam in some twisted scheme. She didn't care about Piper, she cared about pleasing her father. Just like every other soul walking that wretched earth.
"Piper? Are you okay?" Sally asked in what Piper assumed was feigned concern.
Piper hadn't realized she'd been unresponsive to Sally for a few minutes as her thoughts traveled deeper and deeper into the wonderland of her mind.
"Oh, like you care." Piper spit acid with her words. Her drastic change from somewhat nervous and trying to be open to overly hostile struck Sally with significant surprise. Just minutes ago she thought she had been making some progress with Piper even if it was only menial.
"Piper, I'm sorry, did I say something to offend you?" Her eyebrows furrowed in worry. A nagging feeling began to tug at Piper's gut like an incessant grub that called attention to the point that maybe her assumption had been wrong. But no, wouldn't that be exactly what Sally would want her to think?
"Why don't we stop beating around the fucking bush." She gritted her words through her teeth, her breath growing hot from steely ire. So much exploded inside Piper all at once. She felt catastrophic. Armageddon had come for her early and left her delirious insides a desolate and unhinged place.
"The only reason that I'm here is because my asshole of a father decided I needed help or whatever because stealing BMWs isn't a normal thing for a sixteen-year-old to do on a Saturday night, I guess. And now you," She pointed her slender finger at Sally, whose face remained placid through the ordeal, with a tremendous force of snark. "Well you act like I'm someone I can trust. You act as though you're my friend and you act like you don't care about what brought me here. But you do.
"You play your little games by giving me hot chocolate and acting excited for me, but you're not. You just want me to trust you for your own benefit. You want me to tell you about all the things I've stolen even though you already know. You want to know so you can give me some falsity or the next that'll supposedly help me not to steal. But the most important thing is the only reason you're doing this is for my father. You want his money. You just want your paychecks. And the quicker you fix me the more you'll receive."
By the time Piper was done with her harangue she was standing on her bare feet, the shaggy, white carpet tickling her toes. She was mere inches from where Sally sat, her body was visibly trembling from the fury that shook all the way within. Her hands balled into tight fists, so tight that not even air could be let into a crevice of skin. Her knuckles streamed with white. She panted heavily like a madmen having sprinted a mile.
Sally merely quirked an eyebrow up and asked, "Do you honestly believe you're broken?"
Her voice somehow seemed stronger than before the outburst, more resilient and secure like she was prepared to fight this battle with Piper and even more prepared to win. A gleam of armor shone beneath her suddenly icy blue eyes.
Piper felt a screech rise and rise in her throat until it was vanquished into the moist air of her mouth. Her anger flowed itself out of her body through a big flop back onto the couch. She pressed her lips together until they were so thin that they could barely be seen. Heat rose to her face, inflaming every ounce of her being.
She released a burning breath.
In a deadly cool voice she asked, "When did I ever once say I was broken?"
Sally shrugged casually as if this was a day to day conversation with a perfectly calm person.
"You had said your father brought you here to, ah, 'fix you' which indicates you are broken. Now, I may be wrong, but that was your word choice not mine nor his. So, do you honestly believe you're broken?"
Piper looked frustrated, it was evident in the way her eyebrows knitted together and jaw locked into place as if she were a stone statue. Instead of answering the question directly she chose to deviate from the topic.
"Are you not even going to address what I said about you?" She sounded more like an annoyed child than an opportune arguer, but still, something in her voice seemed to sway with the power of persuasion. It was the way she delivered the words, Sally decided.
Sally folded her small hands in her lap.
"If I truly thought you meant the words you said, then yes Piper, I would address you saying those hurtful things, but I know that you can't even fool yourself and fooling oneself is perhaps one of the easiest things to do albeit being the hardest. Do you think I am here to trick you or to receive a grand amount of money? Do you think I am that kind of person? Because if you really do, I will be more hurt than you may think."
Piper slumped a little. Did she really think that Sally was that kind of person? She supposed the answer was no. She hadn't originally detected malice when Sally had offered her hot chocolate. She hadn't seen signs of forgery in the smile Sally wore when Piper announced her well doing in school. Perhaps, she thought, that the wickedness in each action had been formed in an after thought. Perhaps Piper had pushed her panic button and formed the delusions in each of her memories. Perhaps Sally was right.
A painful silence passed. It wasn't like the other moments of quietness from the Saturday meeting. No, this one held more potential of destruction. It was a loaded gun and Piper had her hand on the trigger.
"I see." Sally said in a stiller voice than before, a slight nod of the head going along with the words.
"Should we talk about your speech that you so eloquently put together?" Sally asked Piper after yet more silence transpire between the two.
Piper huffed a little, but managed to mumble an almost indecipherable "I guess" for the sake of being at least somewhat gracious after her cacophony of a rant.
"Piper, I'd like to establish something with you before we move on. Yes, your father is paying me, but he is paying me to help you, not to fix you or to deceive you. You didn't want me to beat around the bush, so I won't. You've had some mishaps in the last couple years that have been getting increasingly dramatic and your father hasn't pretended not to notice. You've been caught shoplifting on multiple occasions, you've nearly been suspended from school, and now you have stolen a BMW.
"Your father didn't bring you here on malevolent grounds, he brought you here because he was concerned like any other parent would be. He may have brought you here for that reason, but that is not why I am here. That is not why I didn't discuss the BMW on your first visit here. Piper, I want to help you help yourself. You're clearly very unhappy at the moment and I want to help you get to a place where you don't feel the need to go off on a tangent or steal a tube of lip gloss.
"It's evident you don't trust me enough to confide in me and that's okay. I didn't want to start off talking about stealing the BMW right off the bat because I did not want you to think that that was all I cared about. I care about you, Piper. I wanted to show you that your actions aren't what are important here, it's your well being that is. I need to earn your trust Piper and I wanted to do it on friendly grounds.
"I made you hot chocolate when you first came here and played board games with you because you deserved to be at peace and be comfortable. I wanted to help you recognize that this is a safe place. I never meant to offend you by doing so or to think that I was conspiring with your father
"I want to help you Piper, in the sincerest way. I hope you let me do that." Sally finished. Her words had been kind and soft.
Piper had felt as though a blanket were being wrapped around her shoulders on a winter's night when snowflakes fell and the wind howled a chilly song. She felt herself relax little by little with each word spoken from Sally.
She turned her words over and over in her mind trying to comprehend all that was said. She felt a barrier come down inside herself and open her to new possibilities. For a while the pair sat in silence, an anxious and tedious and thoughtful silence.
Piper was unsure what to do with the mess of words swarming through her head. She wasn't sure to believe Sally or not to. She wasn't really sure of much at the moment.
She tried to think of a motive besides the gain of wealth that Sally might've had, but conjured up none. She tossed the syllables back and forth working through their byzantine meaning.
Should she trust Sally?
Yes. But only in time.
Piper gave a nod to Sally.
"Okay." She said, her voice coiling in the swirling air around them.
Piper was surprised not to feel more than just a shred of dignity lost and the cause of it's losing wasn't from Sally.
Sally also nodded; they had come to a mutual understanding.
A gnaw of guilt rubbed at Piper's conscience, she tried to shove it deeper into her, but it kept springing back up again. Fine, she'd have to deal with the repercussions.
"Piper," Sally began, carefully mulling over the way she'd string her next line together.
Piper looked at her with kaleidoscope eyes, just as ever changing as their host was.
"I think I'd like to assign you some homework if that's alright with you. It seems that in both of our best interests that it'd be preferable for you to give me a list of things you'd like to see happen in these sessions. Is that okay?" Sally asked gently, careful not to push Piper's boundaries.
"That's... that's okay."
Chapter 3
Annabeth pedaled faster as she approached the turn that led onto Maple Ave, Percy's street. Her heart began to beat faster and faster the closer she got; she feared it would leap right out of her chest from all the raucous pounding it was making. She could hear its badum! in her ears, using her bloodstream as a circuit to fill her body with sound.
It was silly, really. She had been to his house countless times before, even younger than she was now. Yet, she still couldn't shake her fear in this part of town. She tried time and time again to get over the ridiculous fuss that she went through every time her pink bike went over the uneven gravel on the dilapidated sidewalk.
The change in demographics was dramatic from her neighborhood to his despite being only a five minute bike ride away. The first time she came this way she practically experienced culture shock, never had she'd seen something so deteriorated, never had she seen buildings that hung on by only scrapes of paint and a bit of foundation. Usually her parents didn't let her wander into these parts of town, especially alone. But she didn't tell her parents where she biked to every time her phone buzzed with a special chime.
A woman with gray hair down to her waist stood on her sunken porch smoking a cigarette. The smoke started to waft over to Annabeth, but she quickly got out of the way of its suffocating odor. The lady's cold eyes glared at Annabeth, clearly annoyed by her presence in her territory. Annabeth quickly glanced down at what she was wearing. Every article of clothing on her body had cost at least fifty dollars each. A pink blush began to creep up her face. Annabeth stood out like a sore thumb from her white jeans to her flouncy purple blouse.
She hurried faster down to the familiar mint green house that she'd known since she was thirteen, its occupant she had known since she was six.
Two more houses and she'd be there.
She saw him sitting on the steps to the house before he saw her riding on her bike. Whenever she came over, which had been decreasingly often, they always hung out on the steps even if it was the dead of winter. Percy didn't let her inside his house and she started to understand why only the second time she came over. He always told her it was to protect her and she didn't doubt that.
He still hadn't looked up even when she laid her bike on the dewy grass and she was positive he had heard her. His face was turned away and his shaggy, raven hair hid most of him from her view.
"Hey, Percy. I got your text to come over." Annabeth said with caution. She knew something was wrong and she knew what something wrong meant. She winced in advance for knowing what was to come in the following minutes.
She sat next to Percy, the stair groaning under the new weight. Honestly, at that point she was surprised the piece of wood that held them hadn't already collapsed after all the years of sitting on it. It seemed like it would crumble into dust just by looking at it. Annabeth gave the stair a bit of credit for keeping together and even more gratitude because she knew who'd get the punishment if it did break. For the second time being there she winced.
Still, Percy hadn't said anything or even done anything to acknowledge Annabeth's presence, she fought to keep her bitter annoyance rising to her tongue. She knew that was absolutely not what he needed right now. He needed her support (even if he wouldn't outright admit it himself).
"Percy," Annabeth gently tapped his shoulder, afraid he'd be injured there, but he didn't flinch so she figured that part of him had been left untouched.
"I shouldn't have asked you to come." He said in his low, gruff voice in a tone that implied he thought he had done something stupid. Annabeth hated this tone almost more than anything, Percy never gave himself enough credit for how smart he truly was.
"Don't do that with me, Percy. You know I want and need to be here. Don't act like you messed up by bringing me here." She said trying to sound defiant and reassuring all at once.
His shoulders slumped in a sigh.
"Annabeth, please, I don't want to keep dragging you into my problems." He still wasn't facing her making her nerves start to go haywire and become extremely restless. What was he hiding from her? She wasn't one hundred percent sure she wanted to know to be truthful.
Now that really annoyed Annabeth. Didn't he know by now that they were in this together? They shared the burden of their woes. It was how they always worked. Percy always so readily went to help her in her times of need, but when she did the same he started to feel guilty. She wished he didn't.
"Percy you know just as well as I do that we're a packaged deal. We have been since kindergarten. You don't go through your problems alone and I don't go through mine alone. Now, please, turn around." Her voice was practically pleading. He could be just as stubborn as her when he wanted.
"Please, just don't freak out." Now it wasn't her doing the begging.
"Percy." She reprimanded, giving him a look that he couldn't see.
Slowly, he turned towards her. She was barely able to stifle a harsh gasp upon seeing his face. All across the right side of his face from his eye to the lower part of his cheek was a blossoming bruise. Reds, purples, blues, blacks, and yellows mingled together on his skin in a horridly ugly pattern. The marking bloomed along the surface like some grotesque painting in a museum of torture.
"Percy," Annabeth whispered, pained to see him like this. She instinctively reached her hand out to stroke the injury, but thought better of it as his face twitched into a grimace.
"You need to do something about this. Please, we can go to the police. You can't live in these conditions any longer." Annabeth pleaded, fear drenching her eyes. She wanted so badly to make Percy safe. To make her best friend safe. She began to feel tears pricking at the back of her eyes, threatening to soon spill over like the most powerful waterfalls on the face of the earth.
"Annabeth, you know I can't." Percy's voice got stony. This was always a touchy subject with him, but Annabeth was always there as his rock, she was a steady current in an unpredictable and ravaging ocean.
"Percy, why? Do you not think that you deserve to be happy and safe? Because you do, more than anyone I know." Percy might have been stubborn, but Annabeth was his equal in that department. It'd be a long and grueling battle before either of them gave even the slightest of leverage.
Percy let out a tired sigh. He'd been through this whirlwind with Annabeth a million times before just in different words and phrases. The theme was always the same. She just didn't understand, he told himself.
"Annabeth if I go to authorities do you honestly think they'll believe some junior in high school with a permanent record longer than the Great Wall of China? And if they did, what would they do? I'd wind up in some foster home with condescending people, probably away from here." Away from you, was what Percy didn't add, but the following silence said the words for him. "And then I'll turn eighteen in less than a year, and then what? I'll be on my own and have no place to go. It's not like I'm going to college and it's not like there's anyone out there that'd actually want to help some delinquent."
His tone was bitter and Annabeth really didn't want to get mad at him, but her impatience and slight sense of superiority that she tried so hard to suppress deep within in her ebbed at her from those hateful depths. Temper began to redden her cheeks. She let it pass in a breath.
"Percy. First of all, you're not some delinquent. Your grades have been increasing since the start of high school and you have just as good of a chance of going to college as anyone else, so stop berating yourself like that. And don't even say you won't be able to afford it because there's financial scholarships and aids." And I can always help pay, teetered on Annabeth's tongue. Even unsaid, Percy still felt its sting on his face; he wasn't a charity case that Annabeth needed to donate to.
"What do you think will happen if you stay here? Once you turn eighteen Gabe will have you out of here faster than someone can say 'happy birthday.' Percy, you need to be proactive and get out of this situation. It's insanely dangerous and it's not like you don't have a support system." A bit of irritation escaped from Annabeth's mouth, she tasted its potent rottenness like spoiled meat.
Percy began to grow more and more rigid with each word sputtered from Annabeth's mouth, his muscles tensed nerve by nerve. An icy cold feeling shuddered through him.
"Listen, I know you have my best interest in mind, but my decision is final. I'm not going to go to the police and I'm not leaving this house." Percy's voice was a bit too hoarse for Annabeth's liking.
"I just don't understand. Do you not understand how your decisions affect the ones that love you? You not allowing yourself to get help is so hard to stand by. How am I supposed to look at you everyday with the next bruise fading away into another? You probably won't go to school tomorrow because of it, so now it's inhibiting your education. We're supposed to be best friends, yet you won't accept any help." Annabeth said.
She wasn't trying to stir up any tension or problems between them. She genuinely wanted to understand. Percy was the person she loved the most and she needed to get him to a place that he deserved to be. He was one of the most amazing and caring persons she had ever met. She couldn't understand how he didn't see his value.
Suddenly, Percy lashed out. He never lashed out at Annabeth.
"I don't need your help! Okay? I'm not some charity, Annabeth." He scoffed and turned away from her.
Rarely did Annabeth and Percy ever get into actual, gritty fights like this, but when they did they were nasty and revolved around one thing- the differences between the pair. Annabeth came from a family of money, she lived in the wealthiest part of town and that had always acted as some kind of invisible barrier between them.
Whenever Annabeth tried to help Percy he felt as though she was saying he couldn't do things himself. That mindset had been developed early on his life when he was getting handouts in school for his poor income household. He hated feeling like he depended on people, including Annabeth. He could live his own goddamn life just fine.
"Why did you even ask me over then?" Her voice was striking, clipped, and sharp. Her gray gaze stared at him with a ferocious tenacity.
Percy waited a moment before answering. Within that moment was an intense crackling of tension, ready to explode at the slightest change in atmosphere.
" I needed your cover up." He said briskly.
She nearly scrunched her face into disgust and made an even worse noise, but stopped herself. She wasn't entirely sure if it was okay to be upset with Percy at the moment, but she didn't abandon her decision.
"Here," She said, reaching into the purse she brought with her and slamming down a compact container onto the decayed stairs. The sound of the slam resonated in moans and creaks.
She got up angrily, picking her bike up from the grass. The cool, metal handlebars felt like their own island of paradise and bliss beneath her palms.
"I hope it goes to good use." She said shortly before hopping onto her bike and peddling away from the house of troubles.
She was gone too fast to even hear Percy's protests.