UPDATED 3/20/23
Word slowly got out the bodega by the library was open during the nights. The more people started to know, the more business Silas had. During the nights, the influx of students started to increase as they got their midnight fixes of energy to study at the library. To Percy's benefit, time went by faster for his shift.
Silas had been keeping track of the profits he made at night due to Percy's diligence. He kept a notebook that wrote down the net profit each day and he kept track to see if they were increasing. To their delight, it did; slowly but surely. During one of Percy's day shifts when both he and Silas were working together, Silas declared after adding up the profits, "Looks like we're keeping the bodega up overnight for good."
Well, except for the nights they had off.
Percy had finally gotten the dreaded invoice from Joe. The amount that was billed directly to him must have been for all the goods in the van, because it took up almost all of his paycheck for the next two weeks. This would severely impact his ability to pay rent, and the urgency to get another job fast was imminent to Percy. He would also have to contact Joe if this invoice could be payed in installments, if even possible.
He told Silas this, and Silas nodded his head in understanding. His face grew darker as he tried to think. "I've contacted four of my buddies to see if they had jobs for you. They said they'd get back to me as soon as I can, so have hope. If not, I'll help you pay Joe off."
Percy did not like that idea at all, especially because Percy felt like he had burdened Silas enough. But it wasn't really like he had a choice in the first place. He would have to cut off any source of money-spending he would regularly do. He didn't spend much as it is. The most he could cut off was rent, but Percy didn't want to do that at all. It wasn't really like he could couch surf at a buddy's a block over.
He really didn't know what to do. He spent the whole week job searching and even looked at the newspaper for jobs, but it was like the whole city had run out of them. He'd managed to get one interview at the bakery in Chinatown but they didn't appreciate the fact that all he could bake were microwavable cupcakes. Not really his fault though, desserts were a delicacy to people like him.
Percy was stuck at the bodega for now, although he did really like working there, he just did not want to be indebted to his dear friend any longer. The faster he can get even with Silas, the better it was for Percy's conscience.
He rubbed his temples in frustration. He swore life just hated him.
Percy needed to keep this off his mind for a bit. It wasn't like thinking about a problem obsessively was going to solve the problem anyways.
His shift ends and he heads home to sleep his problems off while he had the excuse.
;;;
Cigarette dangling from his mouth, eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration, Percy was on his fire escape again.
He has a borrowed computer from the library in his lap and several newspapers from different stands sprawled next to him. His hair looks like a bird bathed in it as he had just woken up from his reversed sleep schedule. The sun was high in the sky beating down on his skin as he worked. He takes a long drag from the cigarette and starts working on circling with red ink any potential jobs that he could apply for and contact. So far he has about two circles in a total of five newspapers. He's made an account on a job searching site and applied for about four jobs. That was fourteen potential jobs and all he needed was one of them to hire him.
Most of the jobs that were being posted or offered were ones that required skill, and Percy had no skills whatsoever. He had to contemplate seriously if he should try and take up trade school or something so that he would be more eligible for jobs in the future. He couldn't live like this forever: a month-to-month rent, working for his friend, and relying on multiple different sources for money. He didn't see how it was going to sustain him in one of the most expensive cities in the world. At this rate, if he didn't pick something up, he might have to move upstate or to Jersey.
Trade school. That could be a start.
After doing a little research he found out even trade schools cost money. They offered aid, but after a few phone calls they asked for parents' incomes. It's not like he could hit Poseidon up for his tax returns the previous year. Even if he could, Poseidon would have Percy under his thumb, and the school would never offer him aid. Poseidon was loaded. There was no way.
Percy figured he would have to save up for now then. He made a To-Do list of what he'd have to do for the next few days:
Find a job. He has to pay Joe. Joe was not giving him lenience in installments. He also has to pay rent.
Open a savings account. After he pays Joe, with two jobs he would have little amounts to save up that could eventually put him through learning a skill set.
After making a list he doesn't feel too terrible, but it might also be the amount of cigarettes that he's smoked the past few hours. He had smoked all of his remaining pack without knowing.
He writes another down: Cut down the smoking. He could save money with that. He doubts he could follow through but he convinces himself enough that the can at least try.
He took the last drag on his remaining one and let it burn itself out one of the metal steps. It smoked itself a little bit out until it finally lost its remaining embers.
He finally relaxes against the windowsill looking at the Empire State Building in the distance. His mouth feels a bit empty without having something to drag on, and he curses himself for not taking his time with the pack he had left. He fiddles with his phone a bit in boredom, and he accidentally comes across texts that he sent Sally long ago.
It took a lot of his willpower to try and not open it, but he failed. He ended up scrolling through the texts and even went as far back to a few years ago. It wasn't too hard to get there since he doesn't really text her, and she gave up trying.
Some of them were warm, he noticed.
All of them weren't blowing her off completely. Once Sally had asked how he was and he had responded well. They had an okay conversation that lasted for two hours with time gaps here and there. He must have been in a good mood at the time. Although reading them didn't make him feel half-bad as well.
He clicked his phone so it would shut off. No point in wasting emotions into something that he left behind him long ago.
Percy had a few hours until his shift and contemplated on what he should do. His textbook was over by his makeshift bed in the corner looking at him, but he wasn't in the mood to solve problems while he was trying to figure out his life. He had a few options on things he could do, but none of them particularly appealed to him—
He suddenly has an idea. It's been a while since he's seen the old man. He packs his backpack with all his stuff, finds more money he could spare for another pack of his subtle addiction, and heads for the park.
;;;
"You've gotten good, kid."
"Perhaps, but I don't know how you've gotten to be this good. Has anybody ever beaten you?"
There are little chess tables at the park where people can play spontaneous chess on their own time and desire. Mostly the homeless took up the place and played each other. Students would often sit amongst themselves to play or even join the homeless. It was one of those places that had a harmony of humanity in one spot. It was good to see, and today was a day that Percy had joined as well.
It was a bright sunny day with a little chill. Leaves had fallen and crunched under the feet of anxious players anticipating their opponents' next move. The slight breeze wicked away the sweat from the heat of the cerebral game. Conversations were carried through the wind and made the atmosphere brighter along with the sun.
"Oh, you know," the old man moved his chess piece and took one of Percy's valuable ones. Damn, how had Percy forgotten about that one? "A long time ago, when I was about your age, maybe. Maybe younger."
"Is that all you do, Marty?" Percy made a move of his own and tapped his fingers against the wooden table. "Play chess?"
The man's eyes sparkled with humor. "They're just old skills of mine, young Jackson. Did I tell you I was at a nationwide tournament when I was just an eighteen year-old kid? That's not much older than you."
Percy shook his head, smiling. "About a hundred-thousand times."
"It never gets old, my young friend," Percy tries to figure out his next move as the old man slouches in his seat, giving him time to think. Percy knew that Marty enjoyed his company and Percy tried to visit him as much as he could within reason. Percy didn't think Marty's company was half-bad either, and he was the reason why Percy started taking up chess in the first place.
"So, young Jackson," the old man starts again, taking a drink out of the coffee Percy brought him from the bodega on his way here. "What's been up with you lately? There a girl that you haven't told me about taking up your time? I haven't played against you in two months."
"You didn't see me walk by every once in a while to the library?"
The old man gives him a raise of his eyebrow. "I never keep my head out of the game. And you shouldn't too." He takes a piece as if emphasizing his point. Bastard. He grimaces at the old man.
"Oh, that's right." Percy surrenders and plans his next move. "I got fired from my job that I told you about. With Joe?"
"What'd ya screw up?"
"Why do people keep saying that?" Percy shook his head and placed his chess piece on his decided square. "Nothing, I got robbed. The van was robbed. Joe was pissed. The guy barely heard me out."
"It's okay. You got a whole future ahead of you, kid. One lost job isn't going to say anything about your integrity." Another chess piece was lost and the old man's dark fingers took his pawn.
"Well, it's not my integrity I'm worried about," Percy moves another piece and takes a pawn of Marty's. "It's the invoice I got from him. All the things that were either stolen or damaged cost a significant amount of dough. A lot of them were alcohol. So I gotta find a way to pay him back."
"That's a shame," Marty frowns at the board. "I wish I could help ya out young'un."
"It's okay Marty. I don't expect you to pay off my debt with the prize money you got from chess playing in sixty-eight."
"Ha!" Marty laughs with a boom at Percy's retort. "I already spent it all by seventy-six by the time I got back from the war, so you're a few years too shy kid."
"Bummer, I would've gotten you an extra sandwich if you pulled a favor like that off for me."
"Well, you'll owe me one once I beat ya ass on this game. You're slacking half-over. You were doing great the first parts of the game." his eyes sparkle once again as the old man winked at Percy. Percy really liked Marty and would go as far as considering him his mentor in life. The man, although not a lot of society would see it the way Percy does, had a lot of stored up wisdom. Something about wandering without anything to your name and going through animosity on the day-to-day basis gave someone vigor. Percy admired that a lot. Marty took a piece of Percy's again and Percy cursed out loud. He was left with very few pieces with very little possibilities to win.
"Marty! You're not giving me a break!"
"If I go soft on ya, you'll never learn." Marty says nonchalantly, his dusty glasses sliding down slightly along the bridge of his nose as he looked down. "Didn't you learn that playing ball younger?"
"But it's like you exponentially get better after every time I come close to beating you."
"Or maybe the months of no practice is getting to the young Jackson."
"Fair."
The two men kept playing as the scenery around them changed with people. The players from both sides of their tables had already switched challengers and opponents as Percy and Marty's game went on. The sun beat down on the players and the autumn trees did nothing to shade them.
The old man made another move, this time not taking a piece for once. Percy sighed relief. "Anything else going on in that short life of yours? You have another job that you can pay off that debt?"
"Yeah, I now work for Silas at his bodega."
"Young Correia, that kid. He's been paying me visits. Come to think of it, I think he did mention that you started working for him."
"Your memories are failing you now, Marty. Better watch out and take some multi-vitamins or something."
Marty laughed again, shaking his head and moving a piece after Percy had made a move of his own. "You just don't stop, don't you kid?"
A few moves exchange between the two in silence, the chatter from the other tables filling the air around them. So far Percy was getting his ass handed to him, but that was normal. Percy would have to read a book or something on chess-playing skills. Maybe Annabeth could help him find a good one.
Oh. Speaking of her.
"I also took a girl out the other day." Percy successfully captured a piece to his delight. He suppressed a loudly shouted victory.
Marty looked at him through his naked eyes, hand mid-air with the piece he was going to move. He doesn't place it. "Why didn't you start with that!?"
"I mean, I didn't think it was that important." Percy contemplated the table, looking at the whole board with a little thought. Come to think of it, he hasn't seen Annabeth since he and her went to the taco place the other day. He kind of missed her.
"Is she keeping you nice company?"
Percy looked at him in disappointment. "It's not like that you weirdo. You'd think someone's libido or their curiosity of someone else's would fade by the time they're your age. It's your move, by the way. You have the piece in your hand."
"Oh," Marty placed it and knocked over one of Percy's valuable pieces with validity from his original place. The old man remembered where it came from. He shouldn't have said anything. "What are you waiting for then?"
"I'm not really looking for anything," Percy said. He moves a piece that doesn't really do anything to his advantage. "I can't really be involved with someone or really take care of her. And you know I'm not about using people in any kind of way, especially when it comes to that."
"When I met Eva, I was twenty and about to go to war." Marty grimaced. "You think I could've taken care of her?"
"Probably not," Percy admits. "But it's different. Actually, if I ever mention something about taking care of her, she might get upset. She was upset that she couldn't go out alone at night. I assume that's because she's a girl who's been told that by other people. Hell, even I told her that."
Marty frowns. "You know, that's more of an issue of men not being able to keep their hands to their own damn selves. It's usually never about the girl. The men who do nasty things to women in disadvantaged positions are cowards." He interjects swiftly, and Percy thinks he might be as upset as Annabeth. "But taking care of her is a whole other story. It's a matter of being responsible for another person. Like kids. You take care of them because you are responsible for them. When they grow up, it goes both ways like adults do for each other."
Percy laughs without any humor. "Yeah, tell that to my father." He reaches into his bag and takes out his new cigarette pack courtesy of the bodega and lights it up. He offered Marty one.
Marty shakes his head, presses his lips into a hard line, and looks at Percy for a brief moment before looking at the board again. "Your father will come around."
"Yeah I highly doubt that Marty. Bring over a crystal ball and maybe I'll believe you."
Marty laughs a little at Percy's jab, but his face and body shifts into a more serious grounding. "Tell me, son. Why don't you ever try to make amends with your father? Or your mother at the very least?"
Percy takes a long drag and lets it out. He and Marty has talked about this freely before. Percy didn't feel like Marty would think of him any differently or felt like he was burdening him. He opened up. "He's just an asshole," Percy admits simply. "As for my mother, I can't even look at her."
"What makes him as such?"
"He just wasn't ever there for us," Percy flicks his cigarette to get rid of loose ashes. "Although, he did call me the other day. Demanding that I talk to my mother."
"Why is that?"
"I might've been a little harsh on her."
"Sounds like he cares for the both of you and the relationship between you and her somewhat."
"Poseidon is too narcissistic to ever think about anyone other than himself."
Marty smiled. "You remind me of my son. Abel. Both of you are stubborn."
"You've never mentioned him before."
"That's because he died many years ago." Marty took a sip of his coffee and readjusted his glasses. "He and I had the same conflicts for a little bit. I had Shell Shock from the war. I wasn't the best to my family as well. When I tried making amends it didn't come out the ways that I wanted it to. Sometimes it would cause more conflict."
"Yeah but that's you and Abel's situation. I doubt you would behave like Poseidon. Not even in your prime years." Percy slouches in his seat, the conversation weighing down on him. "I don't want anything to do with him anymore."
Marty let out a deep breath of defeat. "Well, kid, I won't press it further. But when you get to this age, things are different. Family becomes precious even when conflicts exist. When Abel died, I never had another chance at making things better with him. And I don't want you to live a life of possible regret, ya hear me?"
Percy nodded. He respected Marty enough. "I hear you."
The two men don't press it any further. The conversation has Percy thinking about the old messages that he read earlier with Sally. Marty finishes the coffee and sets it on the ground before he makes his final move.
"Checkmate." Marty gives him a big old laugh and slaps his hands on his shirted belly in a jovial show of dominance. It lightens the heavy mood from their talk about family.
Percy groans and slouches in his seat, looking at the board with a glare. His eyes darted to Marty's. "You gotta let me win or something one of these days."
"Then get good!" Marty claps his hands together. "Rematch?"
"I eventually will, but I gotta go now." Percy gets up, shouldering his bag that was propped against his metal chair and stood up. He looks at Marty, about to deliver the biggest blow a sore loser at a fair game of chess could ever deliver. "Yeah, that coffee, Marty?" Percy gives him the biggest grin he could muster without bursting out laughing.
Marty has a brow raised, ready to listen intently to whatever important thing Percy has to say. "Yeah?"
"It's decaf."
He watches Marty pseudo-wretch in disgust and Percy makes a run out of earshot before Marty has the chance to throw a plethora of profanities his way.
;;
Percy had thought that tonight was maybe a night he would have to fend for himself. He was glad he was wrong when she heard the ring of the bells sounding her arrival in.
She came in with her oversized cardigan wrapped tightly around herself. Her phone was clutched tightly in one hand, while the other held her tote bag. She doesn't seem to notice Percy when she first walks in even though he's the first thing you see when you enter. She looks at the floor and at the bottom shelves of the bodega and roams around. Percy isn't sure if he should catch her attention because he isn't sure if she saw him or maybe it was his slouching behind the register that blocked her view. Or maybe she just wasn't interested?
He called on her anyways. "Hey."
Her eyes cast up, shaking some hair from her plastic clip that was holding it together instead of a bun this time. The curls framed around her face bounced as she flicked her head to his direction. "Oh. Hi." She tucked her stray hair back into it's place behind her ear and smiled. "I should've assumed you were there."
They don't break eye contact and now they're just staring at each other. He doesn't know why every time they talk it's so awkward, but it figures it's because they're both not the most social people to exist on this planet. Percy personally didn't find the need to socialize; he had everyone he needed and could ask for and hardly found socializing to be a good pastime. As for her, she didn't talk too much out of her own accord. He also figures it's because they hardly know each other. They've only really talked to what he could count on one hand.
The quiet of the night didn't make things any better either.
His eyes glance over to the clock; it's three in the morning. He takes another look at her and he notices that she looks tired still, just like the last time he saw her here. "Another run for Angel? Or just can't sleep again?"
"No," she replies, her hands still around her sweater, not reaching for anything amongst the shelves. She's still looking at him, but the frozen time around them seemed to thaw from the momentum of her reply. "Not this time. Just here for a coffee, if that's okay?" It didn't make sense why she was asking if getting coffee at the bodega that served the coffee she was referring to was fine, but Percy ignored it.
"Of course, hold on."
She took a seat on the barstool like last time. Percy clarifies, "For here?"
"Yes, if that won't be too much of a bother for you."
Percy gestured around the empty bodega, his hands waving around the air. "It's been like this for a few now. You're welcome to stay, always. Half decaf?"
She smiled. "Yes please."
Percy slid a mug across the counter and down to her counter. He filled half of the mug with decaf and regular. He shook his head while he poured it in for her, knowing well that the caffeine content would still be enough to keep her awake. He had a grin that he quickly put away.
She took the hot coffee in her hands, gratefully cupping the mug in her delicate fingers just peeking out from her sweater. He noticed that the mug had a drawing, which it wasn't supposed to have, of a dancing Santa Claus. He must've grabbed Silas' mug instead of the blank standard mugs they use for people who sit in.
"Thankyou," She says, and she gives the odd mug an odd look, and mutters something he can't hear. She closes her eyes and sips, and looks content. Surely coffee from a coffee pot can't be that good.
"So what's got you up so late this time, wandering into the bodega?"
She opens her eyes. The way it seemed in slow motion was bizarre to him. Lethargy, perhaps? Her eyelashes were very long, he noticed. "Insomnia, again. Nothing out of the ordinary."
"You come here from your dorm?"
She nodded, and a strand of a curl bounces along with her head next to her eye. "Yes I did," she took another sip and looked directly at him. "Worried?"
Percy was taken aback at her boldness. It was short of accusatory. Daring, almost. She must've noticed from the last time she was here that he was, indeed, worried for her safety in the dawn of these hours. "Well, sure, actually. It's like three in the morning."
She couldn't blame him, could she? While she looked so frail and tired, she was just walking about the city like it was no big deal from wherever she lived. He wasn't going to say anything about it, but he wished he could do something about it.
"You don't have to, I have a taser in my bag."
"A taser's not gonna do anything once it's knocked outta your hand with a kick." He points out.
"Sounds like you have experience?"
He could hear the sarcasm.
"No, just worried, really. It wouldn't have been different with anyone else."
He needed to get that across. He's not worried about her because she's a frail girl walking around the dangerous streets of Manhattan at night. It was because there were men who were determined to have their way if they wanted in any possible way. She wasn't the problem. They were.
She nods, slowly. "Okay…Then what do you propose that I do when I need a fix of coffee in the middle of the night?"
"Well, first of all, it's called a coffee machine," He said, the outer corner of his lips stretching into a playful smile. "I'm sure you can get one at any store nearby."
"Something about your coffee has me wanting it at these 'dangerous hours'," she takes another sip. "It's very good."
"Okay well," Percy had to think of a solution. "How about this: when you feel that happening, you should just come early and study while I'm at my shift," he suggests. "You know. Whenever you get the feeling you can't sleep or something. It would help me out too. It gets lonely here, you know?"
When his shift ends at six, he could take her back home he figures. It wasn't like he could just leave during his shift for the bodega to fend itself and take her back home so that he could have some sort of peace that she went home okay.
She has her eyebrow raised and the way she's looking at him may suggest that she thinks he's insane. "You want me to stay here?"
"Yeah. At the start of my shift— twelve," college students roamed the streets at that time plenty. "and you can get whatever work you need to get done, done here."
"I mean," She's still looking at him a little weirdly. "I guess I could do that. Take advantage of my insomnia instead of staying up wondering when I'll fall asleep."
While he doesn't think she would appreciate it he's holding her hostage because he doesn't want her to be in danger in the city streets, he's grateful she accepts and doesn't question him. "Great. Coffee will be on me since you'll be sacrificing your time."
"Oh, well, you don't have to."
"Annabeth, a coffee here," He pointed to her coffee in her hands with his eyebrows. "If we are speaking realistically, doesn't even cost a dollar including my labor costs of making it. It's really no big deal."
"Quite the economist," Annabeth smiles. "If I come here everyday, that's at least thirty dollars you'll be losing each month."
Quite the economist, his mind echoes.
"A loss I'm willing to lose." He remarks. "Besides, coming here every day? That implies you don't sleep well everyday. I wouldn't want you here, but a hospital."
"You're right." She says, and her lips never fade short of a slight smile.
A slight silence passed between them like a light breeze.
"How's your roommate? Angel?"
"She's quite alright."
"No weird cravings today? Did you tell her what I said?"
"I did," she laughs. "She already knows."
"You don't need to pick up anything for her?"
"No, but I might buy some pickles just in case."
"Right over there, in case you were wondering," He pointed to an arbitrary shelf. "So what keeps you up? Just insomnia?"
She picked up a little coffee straw from the counter and stirred some cream into her coffee. "Yes. I've had it as long as I can remember."
"No reason to it?
Annabeth kept stirring, looking at the swirling crème of the light liquid. Her eyelids looked heavy. "When I was younger, my mom used to think it was depression. The psychiatrist at the time agreed with her."
"Do you?" Percy wondered out loud.
"I don't think so. At least, back then."
The statement weighed heavily onto the air around Percy. "And now?"
She smiled slightly. "I'm not so sure."
Percy was surprised she was so open to him. The last few times they tried to talk about their personal lives, Annabeth had been the one to push it off. He wondered briefly what could have changed her mind.
"Well, you know, I'm here if you need to talk about anything," he fingers the thread on his apron that has come loose. "If you trust me, that is."
She nodded and quietly breathed an answer. "I'll keep that in mind."
A momentary silence filled them. It was the observation he made all over again, and he might have been right. Annabeth: dancing around the eye of a storm. He noted that it had a glum feeling to it the last time, and it was certainly present at this moment.
Percy made a few observations about her while the silence flowed. Her looks juxtaposed the way she carried herself. She had blonde hair, lightly tanned skin, and from what Percy noticed now, brilliant gray eyes. He doesn't think he knows anyone else with this specific eye color, but then again he never really noted the color of a certain person's eyes when he talked to them in the first place. Objectively speaking, she was very pretty. Based on what she purely looked like, Percy would've guessed her kind of crowd was more on the popular side.
However, everything else about her contrasted the fun, sociable-looking exterior of her. She was silent, saying only what's necessary to answer. Percy's heard that silence is more powerful than words. That proverb was one that could have possibly suited Annabeth the most in Percy's opinion. The way she dressed also contrasted her image. From what Percy's seen so far, she dressed comfortable in a modest way. She always had a thick layer of her cardigan over her shoulders. Her terrible posture spoke volumes about her. Depression, if she had it as implied, weighed thick over her shoulders just like her cardigan and pushed her down a little. A crammed glumness to an open, sunny-looking girl.
His own eyelids felt heavy.
He was just glad she was here with him.
Annabeth's head snaps up, momentarily startling Percy out of his daze. She opened her lips to speak. "You've lived in New York your whole life?"
"Yes, you made the observation from my accent." Percy answers.
"How is that like?"
The turn of atmosphere let Percy relax. Answering her questions should be a breeze. "It's alright. The city is a nice place to keep yourself always busy. Sure does take your mind off of things."
"That must be nice. Living in the city and growing up here must've been a dream."
"I wouldn't put it that way," Percy said. "I didn't really get to enjoy much of it. I was homeschooled and didn't have many friends to go out to places and explore."
"Oh," She took another sip of her coffee, and Percy gave her a refill. Full decaf this time.
"How old are you?" She abruptly asked.
"I'm twenty-three"
"Twenty-three years in the city?"
"Pretty much. I lived in Long Island for a bit though, if that's any relevant."
"Where do you live now?"
"Chinatown."
"With your family?"
Percy winced. "No, I live alone. I have since I graduated high school."
Annabeth nodded. She probably knew how that was like, living in the dorms away from family. Except it was probably a much happier version than what Percy had to put up with everyday. "How's Chinatown like? I've never been yet."
"Didn't you live here two years?"
"Not very the explorative type."
"Yet you're willing to walk all over from where you live to here for a coffee or two."
"I guess."
A brief silence.
"Inquisitive today, are you?"
She blushed. "No, just curious."
He looked at the time. It was four in the morning. "Are you tired yet?"
"No. Must be the coffee this time. Oh! Which reminds me, I almost forgot to pay." She digs into her eco-bag but Percy stopped her.
"On me, remember?" Percy shooed her bills away. "It starts today. Officially."
Her eyebrows furrow. "Does that mean I stay here until your shift is over today?"
"I'm afraid so."
"Okay. You should consider yourself lucky I'm not tired."
"Don't worry, I am."
;;
For the rest of the time together, they do nothing but talk.
He gets to know her a little better; nothing deep. He learns that she likes having root beer floats on a couch when a storm strikes because that's what her and her father used to do as a little girl. She has two brothers, twins, that she loves playing baseball with when she goes back home. She likes the Cubs, even though they don't do well during the seasons. She doesn't take too much offense to it when Percy gloats about the Yankees win last season. "One day they'll rise to the top." she just shrugs. He also learns that she was born and raised in Chicago. Percy doesn't notice a particular accent. But then again, he can't really differentiate it from what's "normal". But she certainly doesn't speak like people he's known or grown up with.
She learns a bit from him too. He articulates about how he used to go to Far Rockaway to the beaches with his mother when he was younger. This was after his father started running the company, of course. He didn't want to talk about him so he talked about the good times with his mother or with his friends after home school playing basketball at a church court. He talked about his experience with girls and how they were short lived and never got anywhere, and Annabeth in turn gave her own testament to a boy she dated two years prior.
"He proposed." She added nonchalantly.
Percy almost spilled his orange juice. "He proposed? How old were you guys?"
"I was eighteen, he was twenty-one."
"I'm assuming it didn't work out." He inferred, judging by how she talked about him in the past tense during their conversation.
She shook her head, confirming his thoughts. "No, I wasn't ready for something that heavy at the time."
"Yeah, I don't think I could ever imagine getting married." Percy really didn't. He could barely look after himself, it wasn't like he could take care of someone else as well. He felt by the way he was, he would take sole responsibility for that person and put their needs over his... and that was something he just couldn't do right now. You think I could've supported her then? Marty's voice rang in his brain, reminding him of tougher times being overcome with tougher circumstances, but certainly he couldn't do that. At least Marty had some sort of income that could sustain a family. Percy could merely sustain himself. "So that's why you guys split?"
"I turned him down and we tried to make it work after that, but turning down something to that heavy extent and trying to make it work afterwards was something we both couldn't handle at the time. So we each took our separate ways."
"Wow. You at eighteen, already being asked to commit for a lifetime."
"It's a little bizarre if I think about it now," Annabeth tucked her curly strands behind her ear. "Sometimes that's what occupies my mind with my insomnia. The 'what ifs'."
"What if you married him?"
"Yeah."
"Well," Percy started off, dragging the word so he could gather his thoughts. Annabeth looked at him with a tentative gaze, ready to hear what he thought of her presumptive future. "Think it would've been hard as a journalist to keep up with. What are you trying to do? Investigative?"
"No," Annabeth answered. "I'm looking into writing articles as an architectural journalist. Someone who writes about various architecture concepts for laymen to understand."
Percy humored her, just a bit. "See, you'll be very busy. Traveling, researching, writing. You can't really have someone there to take the time up that you don't have."
Annabeth nodded, as if Percy gave her the most reasonable explanation she could've heard in this century. But she then cocked her head in inquisition. "What makes you think you'll never want to be married?"
Percy shook his head. "I mean, look at me," he gestured around to the empty room.
"What do you mean, 'look at you'?"
Percy was confused as to why the answer wasn't blatantly obvious. He continues to explain so that she might see how he saw himself. "Okay. Just to name a few. I work at a bodega during the nights. I live in an apartment where I pay month-to-month rent. In Chinatown. I come from a very broken family, to mention that at the least. I have a shitty father, a depressed mother, and I am a the degraded product of a toxic marriage."
That was the sad reality of his life. Subjected to life of loneliness because of his shitty hand that he was dealt indirectly given to him by this father. Self pity wasn't welcome in Percy's life, but it did sure seep its way in the corners of his brain.
"No amount of preparation would allow me to support someone. No amount of self-evaluation and reflection would allow me to be responsible for another. There's no way I could just waltz someone into my life 'cause I'd just ruin theirs. I'm sinking in life, and they'd sink with me."
Annabeth didn't speak. So he added, "Plus, if my temper were anywhere near my father's, I doubt anyone would want to put up with that. Nor would I want anyone to."
He just stood there, his hands supporting his weight as he leaned against the wall opposite of Annabeth, a counter separating the two of them. He blinked, being pushed back into reality and not believing that he just said that. So raw and honest to someone who might not even feel the same level of trust being received. He pulled a thread from his apron and started seething on his anger towards himself. It was a sudden shift of emotion, from shock to anger. He wasn't angry at her, not at all; he was glad he could talk to her, but now he was afraid of what she'd think of him.
To his shock, however, she said, "I think I understand that."
Percy raised an eyebrow at her. "You have anger issues?"
She laughed. "No I just understand what you mean by not wanting someone to deal with your demons."
And they left it at that. Another one of their, at this point trademark, silences flowed and they just stared at each other. Annabeth's face had an expression that Percy could classify as sympathy. He found himself being comforted by her slight smile instead of angered. Under normal circumstances should anyone look at him like that, he would've been enraged that they would feel sorry for him. But something about how her eyes dripped of sincerity and warmth towards him knew that she wasn't blaming him or putting him at fault for whatever his life had managed to throw at him. Even though he'd hinted that his anger was something she probably didn't want to see, and had shown her proof through cuts and bruises on his face on how far it could go, she still was sitting here, looking at him, and smiling ever so slightly with the humor from his joke dwelling in her eyes.
He didn't know what exactly he was feeling —a warm sensation spreading from his chest — from the shared moment of silence, but he didn't think it was necessarily bad. Something about their encounters had started to sprout that in him. A feeling of bliss would wash him over like their encounters were made of feather.
Percy noticed her empty mug, and the time nearing the end of his shift. "I've kept you in torment long enough. More coffee for the road or?"
"Oh, is it time to go?"
Percy refrained from saying 'I'm afraid so'. "Yeah, it's the end of my shift. So what do you say on the coffee?"
"I think I'll be okay on the coffee. I'll stop by during the day for one probably, though."
"Okay. Hold on I gotta clean up, wait for Silas to come, and then we can leave." He sees a figure by the door. "Oh, speaking of him, there he is."
The man in question came in through the double doors, his hand running through his mop of curly hair as he walked in with a bright smile on his face. "Hey Percy! You're free to go now, so go home and get some sleep." he walked past Annabeth, probably assuming she was just a customer, but when he turned to the counter to face her he recognized her. "Oh, Annabeth! Hey, it's been a while."
"It has, how have you been?"
"Pretty great. What are you doing here so early?"
"Just a late night coffee. How were midterms for you?"
"I actually have one today."
"Good luck, I hope you do well."
"Thanks," Silas said, looking at Percy and the two of them, his eyes darting back and forth like a tennis match. Percy awkwardly rubbed his arm watching the two of them talk. "You two know each other?"
"Yeah," Percy confirmed. "I met her at the library and she comes here pretty often."
Annabeth nodded in agreement. Percy continued, "Let's go, I'll walk you home."
"Oh, no that's not necessary." she waved her hand and then gestured to the windows. "It's light out."
"No, seriously, it's no trouble," he went to the register, put in a couple dollar bills to make up for the coffee Annabeth had from his pocket, and hurried out. "Let's go. Silas, I'll see you during the day. I read that passage you wanted to pick at and made some notes we could go over if you want."
"Yep, see you then. Bye, Annabeth. It was good seeing you. Come around more often!"
"I will." she promises, and Percy has a a feeling it's one that she'll keep.