Percy loathes Valentine's Day. The naked babies, the shitty chocolate, the overpriced flowers, he hates it all.
He loves his girlfriend, though, so here he is, wearing a stupid tie printed with pink hearts, holding a bouquet of roses while he leans against the wall waiting for Calypso's ancient history class to end.
She floats out of the classroom when the bell rings, impossible to look away from. She's just wearing jeans and a button-down, nothing like the over-the-top outfits girls like Annabeth Chase wear, and her brown hair falls around her shoulders in soft cinnamon-scented waves. Sometimes he wonders what he did to score a girlfriend like Cal.
Percy walks up to her. "Happy Valentine's Day," he says, leaning down to peck her on the lips. He goes to deepen the kiss, but she pulls away.
"Babe, can we talk?" she asks, that little crinkle of worry appearing between her eyes.
He shrugs, handing her the flowers. Cal's been acting sort of off the last few weeks, more distant than usual, so he's hoping now will be the time he gets an explanation. "Of course."
Cal smiles, but it doesn't quite meet her eyes.
They step into one of the empty classrooms. Cal hops up onto the teacher's desk, leaving Percy to take the chair.
There's an awkward lapse of silence before Calypso clears her throat and shifts the bouquet in her arms. "Thanks for these. I hope they didn't cost too much."
"It's no big deal, anything for you."
She bites her lip and starts, "Percy, I don't want you to take this the wrong way, but…"
"Hey, are we still on for dinner next week? I have practice Friday night and I'm not sure if it'll run late—"
"I think we would be better off as friends."
Calypso says it casually, like she has no idea of the weight of her words, no idea that she's just dropped a massive nuclear weapon in Percy's life.
Maybe he misheard. "Uh, pardon me?"
Calypso closes her eyes for a moment. "I'm breaking up with you, Percy," she clarifies, turning away so her silky hair falls over her face like a curtain.
"You're breaking up with me?" This can't be happening. "What? Why? Was it something I said? I say a lot of stupid stuff."
"I just…we're both going off to different colleges in a few months and it's just easier to rip the bandaid off now rather than peel it off slowly. I really like you, and I promise it's not you, it's me."
"Are you sure? If I messed up, just say the word, and we can fix this."
"It really isn't your fault. You're wonderful, perfect. Almost too perfect."
This can't be happening. Is he getting dumped, on fucking Valentine's Day, of all days? This has to be some cosmic joke from the universe. The gods are probably laughing at him.
Percy runs a hand through his hair and takes a shaky breath. "That's…that's fine. Okay. That's it. We're over."
Calypso reaches out for him; he maneuvers so her fingertips can't brush his shoulder. He doesn't think he'd be able to bear her soft touch. "Percy. Please don't be upset. We were great. You were a great boyfriend. But our lives are moving in different directions and I don't think there's room for you in my future."
Is he going to laugh or cry? He gets up and walks out of the classroom, heart breaking in his chest. He feels raw, cut open.
Calypso stands in the doorway and calls after him, "I'm really sorry!" but he doesn't look back.
Percy goes to the bathroom, locks himself in a stall, and cries a little. He rips up his tie and the card he made for Cal and flushes the pieces down the toilet. It makes him feel a bit better, and after washing his tear-stained cheeks, he braves the cafeteria.
His best friend, Jason Grace, is sitting at their table with lunch slop on a plastic tray in front of him and a soccer ball at his feet. Percy tosses his bag on the ground and drops down onto a chair, making Jason look up.
"Whoa, what the hell happened to you?"
Percy's throat feels thick and it's hard to get the words out. "I'm…I'm pretty sure I just got dumped." Oh, great. He's probably going to cry some more.
Jason puts an arm around Percy and pats his shoulder. "Aw, man, that sucks," he says, tone tinged with sympathy. "You and Cal have been together for, like, forever."
"Since sophomore year," Percy murmurs.
He remembers the day he met Cal vividly. He had stayed after school for a hockey game and was taking the long way to the locker room. His shoelaces came untied so he paused in front of a window to relace them. When he looked up, there she was, on the other side of the glass in the courtyard, bent down to water a patch of flowers.
It was fate, it was magic, it was like a scene in a movie; as if in slow motion, Calypso stood up, tossing her caramel hair over a shoulder, and met his eyes. She smiled and that was it. He was smitten. He was done for.
Three months later, he finally plucked the courage to ask her out. They went to see a movie and their hands brushed over the popcorn bucket, and at the end of the night, they kissed on her front porch in the glow of the porch light. It was perfect.
The next two years were a blur of study dates and hand-holding and kissing in his car and the scent of Cal's perfume. She was his first girlfriend, his first kiss, his first time, his first love.
And now she's breaking up with him. Has broken up with him.
Percy can't lie; it fucking hurts.
"Jackson?" Jason waves a hand in front of Percy's eyes. "Percy? You good?"
He isn't even aware of standing up until he's pushing back his chair and on his feet. "I…I'm gonna get some air," he mutters, then bolts for the door so quickly he nearly trips.
Percy isn't even sure where he's going. His emotions are a storm raging inside of him. Why couldn't Cal have broken up with him because she was in love with someone else? If she had, he would have someone else to blame and be angry with. Instead he can only be angry with himself.
What did he do? What didn't he do? They were supposed to have a future. He still thinks they could have a future. He would do anything to have that with her. He would be the perfect boyfriend.
If only he could prove it to her. There has to be something—
He slams into something as he's passing by the bathroom.
"What the fuck? Watch where you're going, asshat!"
Someone.
And not just any someone, either. Annabeth Chase.
She's pissed, a scowl contorting her face, but underneath that, he can tell she's upset. It's in the tiny quiver of her lip, the way her mascara is smeared slightly around her eyes. It looks like he isn't the only one having a shitty Valentine's Day.
"Sorry," he grumbles.
"Go fuck yourself."
Percy touches her arm as she swirls around. "Hey. Chase, are you okay?"
Annabeth levels him with a look that would make just about anyone else sink into the linoleum floors and die. When she speaks, though, her voice is wobbly. "Does it look like it?"
"I mean, you do look…well, you look like you've been crying."
"No shit."
"Jesus, I'm just asking if you're alright."
Her eyes begin to fill with tears. "Why do you care?" she asks harshly.
Before Percy can reply, she storms off.
