"So I take it things are going well?"
Percy grins, "Extremely. I think I may actually make it to the end of the year without any incidents."
Annabeth giggles, "You still have the rest of the school year to go, let's not jinx ourselves just yet."
In good humor, Percy sighs dramatically. "Oh, if only someone was here to keep me in line and save me from expulsion." For added effect, Percy brings the back of his hand to his forehead and looks away, "Woe is me, woe is me."
Laughing, she rebutted, "Good thing Grover has a cooler head than you, Seaweed Brain."
Percy fights the urge to pout. "Would have been better if you were here to help us out."
Annabeth's chin juts up, "Of course, I know how to keep you boys under control."
Percy smiles through the Iris Message, "And we know how to make you lose control, Wise Girl."
Annabeth, maturely, sticks out her tongue.
Percy, with an equal measure of maturity, does the same.
They giggle in harmony.
"It's cool Annabeth, Bianca is good at keeping me out of trouble when she's done with Nico."
"Ah yes, the mysterious Bianca and Nico di Angelo, those are the demigods you're watching over, right?"
"My friends, yeah," Percy insists.
Annabeth gives him a look he feels he is starting to notice more and more, the type of look as if he were a particularly vexing equation she was trying to solve.
He wonders, would she be satisfied when she finds the answer?
"Percy," her voice is soft, gentle and slow, "you know you're my best friend, right?"
Now he's confused at the sudden shift, but he sees no reason to deny it. He's her best friend just like she is his best friend.
"Right."
"And you know I'm usually right, correct?"
A bit annoyed at the obvious, Percy corrects, "Pretty much always, yes."
Her eyes gleam in satisfaction, she clearly likes his response. Gray eyes on him, "Well, just make sure to remember that as your usually-correct-best-friend that I will always have your back Seaweed Brain."
Percy nods numbly, this feels like obvious information to him, a headline he knows by heart from his favorite newspaper, issued what feels like forever ago. "And I'll always have yours, Wise Girl."
They continue their conversation from there, jumping from topic to topic with ease like they usually do. The interaction struck him as odd, but he has no reason to bring it up again. She tells him about her schedule, how classes are going and what teachers she likes (because she doesn't like to talk about the less accommodating teachers, the ones who don't help with her accessibility needs, Percy knows), and about her current project.
"It's amazing Percy! Mr. Hernandez, my math teacher, is so supportive on helping me out with the grittier details of architecture. And he's so patient with me and all his students. I have a dream of what I want the building to look like, right? But I hardly know anything about how to even begin implementing the preliminary work of building a foundation on which to..."
Percy is glad for a few things in his life. Right now, he's glad that Annabeth has such supportive educators, that Annabeth is clearly growing in the way she wants, that he has the chance to talk with Annabeth, and that Annabeth is and always will be his best friend.
Right now, Percy would love a Mr. Hernandez to help him with his homework.
As it is, Ms. Grigorievich is less than ideal. An old hag with an uncanny resemblance to Mrs. Dodds, Percy wondered if she was one of the Fury's in disguise. She's strict, has a shorter fuse than him, and has little tolerance for anyone with his GPA. The mere idea of coming up to her for help on his math homework fills him with dread. Here, standing before the closed door with "OUT OF OFFICE – BACK IN 30 MINUTES" doesn't help his mood. His shoulders slumped; he felt the headache from schoolwork already forming.
"Percy?"
Turning to Bianca, he nearly jumps out of his skin.
Bianca has the audacity to laugh.
"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. Did you think I was Ms. Grigorievich?"
He tells her seriously, "There's no way I would have ever made that mistake."
Bianca laughs again, and he feels himself perk up and join her, posture arranging itself.
"I just..." Percy feels the heat of embarrassment fills his cheeks. He hates to admit he needs help with homework, he tries not to bother Grover or Annabeth with his stupidity. He should be able to handle it himself. He figured out how to save the world; he should be able to figure out some algebra.
As he grapples for words, Bianca offers her own. "Looks like she's out, which is a bummer because I needed help with the homework."
Percy shares her misery, "Yeah, me too."
"Want to work on it together?" Bianca offers with a shy smile.
Intelligently, "Huh?"
"Do you want to work on it together?" she repeats patiently, dark eyes into his own. Those eyes look away. "But I will understand if you would prefer not to." She throws her hands in front of her, palms to him and moves them like windshield wipers.
Percy, inexplicably, dislikes this action, dislikes the uncertainty in her response and the metaphorical distance he senses.
"No, it's not that. I just – I just wasn't expecting you to offer."
Dropping her hands, she looks at him confusedly, as if the idea of offering to work with him was alien, "Why?"
Once again Percy finds himself on the receiving end of a question he struggles to answer. How to answer?
Because I'm too stupid, because I'll be no help, because you can ask literally anyone else and they'd be a bigger help, because you deserve—
"I want to work with you."
Oh.
"Two heads are better than one, after all."
Oh.
Percy fights the urge to scratch his nose, "Okay."
She blinks, now looking off balance, "Are you sure?"
"I'm sure," he smiles at her, "I want to work with you too."
And so they plant themselves in the hallway, pull out their algebra homework, and work together.
This is how it starts.
While Percy and Bianca do not share class periods, they share the same teachers and subjects and so work together frequently.
During lunch they eat together, during the weekends they spend time together and goof off, and after school they work together.
Nico is a constant companion, of course, but the barrier between them and him on what he can participate in leaves them with time to themselves.
It is time well spent.
As the weather drops even further, October arrives.
Halloween came and went, and for the first time in forever (for the first time since his summer learning he was a demigod) Percy had an enjoyable Halloween. Knowing that the things that go bump in the night are real can put a damper on these kinds of things.
Nico, in particular, loved the holiday. According to Bianca, it would be the first real Halloween they celebrated in the States. He dressed up as a pirate, insisting that they all do the same and be part of his Pirate Crew
"..."
It is through this conversation which illuminates to Percy a specific fact. Bianca and Nico were born in Italy. Venice, specifically. A city that Percy, through Annabeth, knows has a lot of rivers and is supposedly very pretty. It boggles Percy's mind, and yet it is not difficult to imagine Bianca walking the streets, enjoying the gelato of the country and speaking Italian to everyone.
He, in his mind's eye, sees her out in the sun, a dark shadow cast in front of her.
(Perhaps the sun cannot bear to be in her eyes, cannot bear, Percy thinks, to be the reason she must squint and diminish herself)
She walks in sandals beside a river, a black gondola rowing beside her. She is at ease, in a white dress that ruffles in the wind, and that ridiculously floppy green hat of hers on her head. Her hair splayed across her shoulders and back. A string instrument, a piano or something more obscure Percy is not educated enough to know, is the soundtrack to her waltz. Holding gelato, she looks...
She looks beautiful and healthy and happy and free and...
She looks far away, most of all.
"..."
Percy was painfully reminded, once again, of his stressful financial situation. To order a costume is not a luxury he could afford. He remembers his mother, always doing her best to either procure him one from the store after days of overtime, or how she'd make one herself. Here, so far away from her, how could he even begin?
He refused to ask his mother for money, avoiding the topic when he spoke with her. No need to stress her out. He can figure out a stupid costume by himself.
Two weeks before Halloween, Nico and Bianca's costumes come through the mail. Two pirate costumes. When Nico hands him the package, offhandedly commenting how cool it is to get things through the mail so quickly, polyester never felt so heavy before.
Nico tried it on, and it looks really cool. A tad oversized, but cool. He even has a Styrofoam sword he swings around, strapped by a belt to his red and black striped pants.
Bianca has a similar costume, but hers has a yellow bandana she wears that removes her hair from her face, usually hidden by the dark curtain.
Percy likes the look on her, she looks more confident somehow.
Grover is able to make his own, somehow, through woodland magic. All natural, of course.
Grover, in kindness Percy appreciates from his best friend, receives the materials from him to try and make his costume. Something about Grover being good at arts and crafts at camp. Percy has no money to splurge on a store-bought one, but maybe he can cobble something together with the materials given and Grover's guidance.
Unfortunately, Grover is unavailable to help him out with the process.
He got detention.
Grover, his best friend, got a week of detention.
For good cause, obviously. It was for 'The Mission,' as Grover defended himself.
Unfortunately, explaining to the headmaster why he was in Dr. Thorn's office after-hours is not as easy. 'Excuse me Headmaster, but I needed to be in a suspected monster's office to make sure he wouldn't have any intel on a secret world of Greek gods to ensure the survival of children, the gods who depend on them, and the fate of Western civilization as we know it.'
Not likely, no.
It's actually pretty funny to Percy, or at least it was until he realized Grover wouldn't have the time to help him with the costume.
And that's how he finds himself in his dorm, looking over materials he has no clue how to assemble together. Online tutorials do very little for him, he can't focus. Written instructions? With his dyslexia? Yeah, right. Maybe when pigs fly.
He was flipping a drachma in his hand, debating calling Annabeth for help when there was a knock on his door.
Filing away the godly coin, he opens the door expecting Nico to pop up as he usually does, but is instead pleasantly surprised to see Bianca instead.
Shyly, she asks, "May I come in?"
has stopped working.
Reader, now is a good time to deliver some not-so-shocking information to you about one Perseus Jackson.
As a younger child, Percy lived with his mother, and then his disgusting stepfather. Heading into the school system, public schools quickly heard of his name and his penchant for tanking the collective GPA and social standing of the school. Specialized boarding schools were his only option, rooming with usually another troubled boy. At camp, he lives alone except for when Tyson was around. Cabins are usually a separate space, as they fall under the authority of the godly parent, and therefore typically discourage people from entering a cabin that doesn't belong to them for fear of being obliterated.
Reader, aside from his mom Percy has never had another girl in his room.
"Uh."
"Great!"
Previous shyness shed, Bianca waltzes into the room and sets down her backpack on his bed, positioning herself in the middle of the room.
Percy tries not to squawk like a seagull from her forwardness.
"Bianca, I thought we weren't going to meet up for homework until later this week?"
She laughs, "We totally are, obviously. I'm the only reason you're passing math and you're the only reason I'm passing science. The less said about English class, the better."
Felt, heard, and appreciated.
"No, I'm here because Grover clued me in to your costume malfunction."
Heat rises to his face, and he can only feebly offer, "I can handle it myself."
A bold(?) faced lie. He hasn't the slightest clue what to do. He might as well wrap it all over himself, add ketchup, and call himself a bloody mummy.
He has an odd churn in his stomach that is different from the previous churn of Bianca's intrusion. What did Grover tell her? How much did he tell her? That he lacks in the creativity department? That he's too poor to buy a costume like she did? That he's plain just hopelessly inept?
He swallows a wad of spit at the back of his throat and goodness does it sound especially loud tonight.
She smiles oddly, "So you know how to sew?"
"Well, no."
"Great! Well, not great. It's a pretty useful skill to have, after all."
"Right."
She offers, "But I can teach you if you'd like." She picks at her sleeve, "What were you going to do if you don't know how to sew?"
Percy replies honestly, "I was actually about to call Annabeth. She's good at arts and crafts." With a mother who lords over the subject, it's a given.
Bianca purses her lips. She suddenly looks a tad smaller somehow, the previous air that propelled her into his room literally being taken from her sails.
"Annabeth is good at a lot of things, from what you've told me of her."
Percy blinks. Has he really talked about Annabeth that much?
Suddenly, Bianca nails him with her eyes. "I'm sure Annabeth can help you with your costume." She chews her bottom lip, "Sorry to bother you."
And she pivots on her heel, slugging her backpack in an impressive arc and heads toward the door.
Percy feels a newfound intensity, a pressure on his chest.
Let it be known that Percy Jackson is not a strategic guy, more of a 'go with the flow' type actually. He, for better or for worse, goes with his gut.
Right now, his gut is telling him that he wants Bianca di Angelo to help him with his costume. He wants to work with Bianca di Angelo on his costume. He wants to spend his time and energy laboring over something with Bianca di Angelo
His gut has rarely led him wrong.
"Would you help me, please?"
Bianca turns, eyeing him cautiously. He wonders what he did to make her look at him this way.
He continues, "You're not a bother, by the way. I'm not bothered by you."
Which is obviously true. He's not scared to tell her that.
It feels necessary to repeat it, the insistence that there is indeed no bother, no reason to doubt. He doesn't feel silly doing it, rather a distant cousin of childish. Honesty, the truth that rings in his statement, is the only thing that encourages him to speak, and therefore it is the only thing that prevents him from regretting his outburst.
Still, heat rises, "I want your help, Bianca. I think it'll be fun with you. Please?"
She, painfully, still looks hesitant. What can he do to wash that uncertainty away?
Nothing, it seems.
Bianca, as is becoming increasingly known to him, surprises him by collapsing onto the ground and releasing the contents of her backpack. Notebooks, looseleaf paper, loose pencils (no pens, of course) and... crafting materials. Measuring tape, scissors, needles, thread, etc.
She grins at him, all teeth, "Let's get started then."
And so they do.
They converse as they work like they usually do when doing schoolwork together at the library.
"Hey, Bianca?"
She hums as she measures the length of his arm for the sleeve. Dark and deep eyes run over every centimeter of his wingspan, and Percy feels self-conscious.
Which is silly, this is Bianca and she's not a bully, nor is she like Drew back at camp making acute observations about his musculature (or lack thereof...)
"Yes, Percy?"
"Oh, um, I've been meaning to ask..."
She hums, cold fingers grazing the back of his wrist.
"Well, do you not have any pens?"
It is something he's noticed before when watching Bianca pour over her homework. When she dumped all the contents of her backpack, nary a pen in sight, it just confirmed it for him. Not a single pen in sight.
She pauses briefly, probably registering his completely out of the blue question as he breaks her concentration.
She looks at her handiwork, perhaps debating the philosophical ramifications of helping the helpless, or in trying to teach a son of Poseidon to fish, when she finally responds.
"I don't like making mistakes."
Percy blinks to process the statement.
"I-I... I think I understand."
"Do you?"
"Yeah, I mean no one likes making mistakes."
She does that thing again, where she purses her lips. Percy feels, once again, like something important has passed him by.
It's not unusual for him, to miss things, but gods above he wishes for some guidance here and now to understand so that Bianca won't go quiet.
"Yes, no one likes to make mistakes," Bianca agrees after a pause. She and he are using a piece of chalk to work on the arms and cut the lengths appropriately. Having done this with the baggy pirate pants already, Percy knows that Bianca follows a strict 'measure thrice, cut once' philosophy.
Percy leans in, breathless to hear what she has to say because he does not want her to go quiet again. He cannot afford to miss a word, a syllable, else he misunderstands and be the cause of quiet work again.
"I don't like to make mistakes." She repeats again, and Percy listens again. "I hate it, actually. If I write in pen, I can't fix anything." She's using the fabric scissors deftly, no tears or lint debris left behind. "It's like when we're in math class. With a pen, if I am solving a problem or equation or something, and I mess up, the entire work is useless, and then I have to start all over again. It also means I have less space, and the paper looks crowded and messy. With a pencil, I can erase and backtrack. If I know that I messed up in step 3, even if I'm already on step 14, I can rewind and start from that step onwards, correctly this time."
She stopped cutting and is just looking at the fabric scissors in her hands, "With a pencil, there is the possibility of rectifying my mistakes, the chance to rewrite and to undo. A pen is permanent. A pen doesn't let me cleanly go back and carefully rewrite and rectify. A pen just doesn't seem as useful to me as a pencil."
Percy thinks to his own pen, tucked away in his pocket. A gift from his father. A weapon, the first and only present. A sword with a tragic history, for a hero with a tragic future.
Can he rectify anything? Can he rewrite his own fate? Cross off the choices and mistakes of the past and arrive to a different result?
Talk, Percy. You've been silent for too long, Percy.
"Okay," he begins, "okay. So it's like this; you like knowing that, if things go wrong, you can make them right again. It," he's struggling to understand what he wants to understand, "it means that things will turn out alright, in the end."
Bianca nods, but Percy isn't satisfied.
"Wait, let me ju—Give me a sec, okay?"
C'mon stupid brain, Percy begs, work with me here.
"Making mistakes can be fatal" Percy begins with what he knows. "It means that, no matter what you do after, the mistake still happened, and since we can only go forward, we go on with that mistake, because we have to. Because, unlike a math problem, we are alive and cannot erase the past, it continues with us. It becomes part of our present, and therefore out future."
Percy bites the inside of his cheek. It is a conscious choice to combat biting his lip out of nervousness he does not want to show.
"It sucks because, because you'll always be stuck doing damage control after. Like no matter what you do, you'll always be making it up, trying to catch up to an idea of fairness or, or, equality, no—of rightness."
Bianca smiles softly, and she places her warm hands on his shoulders. "Breathe Percy, it's okay. Just calm down a bit, you're okay."
He wonders what look he had to have on his face to compel her to comfort him, to hold him close enough where he feels the perfume of her breath flutters across his face.
"You're right Percy, I don't like making mistakes because they stick around, because they have consequences."
She takes a second to pause, "Not to be dramatic, but sure, mistakes can be fatal."
Percy feels himself tense, his short life already has had enough brushes with fatal consequences.
Bianca's hands, still on his shoulders, seem to smooth over his stress. She takes her deceptively delicate-looking hands and takes her thumbs and takes her palms and moves them outward, from the base of his neck to off his shoulders. Percy feels himself melt.
"I want to make sure I live a life with very little to regret, therefore I do not want to make mistakes."
Percy understands that.
"I don't want to carry guilt as well, and that means avoiding things that I think will lead me to a path that is... undesirable."
Percy nods.
"Me preferring pencils is just the manifestation of that desire. Now, enough of the existential crisis, I'm almost done with the measurements."
"Aye aye, captain."
Bianca laughs.
At the student store, Percy buys a pack of Halloween themed pencils, orange and black with cats, ghosts, pumpkins and skeletons on them. He even trades candy from his private stache to acquire an extra eraser and a yellow pencil case.
He plans to give them to Bianca soon.
Halloween comes. The cafeteria is converted into a dance floor, the classrooms a mix of trick-or-treat homes to stop by, haunted houses, or mixed events like party games and movie showings. Their 'Pirate Crew' saunters through the events and enjoy themselves. Grover gets food on him, Nico swings his sword around until a teacher tells him to stop or they'll confiscate it, Percy separates his candy from regular to and blue, and Bianca had a lot of fun scaring them in the haunted house. They watched Halloween specials (no R-rated films, unfortunately) and genuinely had an amazing time.
The end of the night comes, when the other events close and everyone not going to their dorm heads to the cafeteria for the dance.
It is a known truth in the universe that middle school dances can be... a mixed bag.
But this time? This year?
All he's pulling out of the bag are blue jolly ranchers this year.
Well known line dances, ones even he can pull off, start playing, and it is that magical time in a party where everyone lines up in harmony to do the Cupid Shuffle, following along to the instructions with a devil may care attitude and not a whiff of insecurity. It is the magical time where no one is burdened by uncertainty and can simply have a good time.
The music fades away and in the commotion of people moving and shifting the 'Pirate Crew' becomes undone and everyone on the floor separates into two halves that face each other and gods above he's facing Bianca.
The Macarena starts playing and clearly this is new to Bianca, as well as Nico who is to his left. There are no instructions this time, and clearly, they feel that uncertainty creep in. Bianca starts to look away, the thought of leaving the dance floor so evident it alarms Percy.
Percy will admit to not being a dancing guy, but he begins to match the beat and dance the Macarena. He locks eyes with Bianca, stunning her into place, and very purposefully dances. She begins to follow his movements, as does Nico. It is slow and uncertain at first, and Percy makes sure to slow down so they can follow his movements, but they begin picking up steam and soon they've got the repetitive yet fun dance moves down pat. She's laughing. She's dancing the Macarena and laughing. She's dancing the Macarena, spinning around, and laughing. She even begins to sing along, and when the "Ay-ya!" part of the song comes on, she yells it! And he yells with her! Soon enough, they all yell together!
The song ends, they're all breathless, and they move to get some water. As they cool down, a slow dance starts, clearly meant to relax the crowd and draw out the couples in matching costumes.
He eyes Bianca on his side. Her pirate costume looks so good on her. His pirate costume looks pretty cool too.
"Thank you again, Bianca."
She turns her head away from Nico who is swinging swords with a boy his age in a Three Musketeers costume. She's holding her water bottle and shoots him an inquisitive look.
"Thank you for your help with the costume"
"Oh that? No worries," she grins proudly, "it came out really nice, huh?"
"Yeah! You did amazing work."
Percy takes a second to scan his costume. The pirate shirt, pants, and bandana around his hair as well. He touches the fabric and spins around as his Chucks squeak on the floor. He grins at her and proudly presents the work they did together. "I'm really glad you showed up when you did."
She turns pink, probably embarrassed by the praise. "You–good. I mean, I'm glad I showed up when I did, too. The costume looks... really good on you Percy."
"Here." He hands the gift over to her, wrapped in the school's newspaper.
She raises an inquisitive eyebrow and takes the gift. Unwrapping it gently, her eyes widen in surprise. Percy feels self-conscious but refuses to back down now.
Percy tries for a smile, "I hope you like them."
Bianca tears her eyes away from the gift, holding them still so gently. "Thank you, Percy. This is, this is so kind of you. Of course, I like them, I'll be thinking of you when every time I use them."
Percy blushes at her candor and both allow euphoria to fill them.
It is the best Halloween he's had so far; he wonders how they will top it next year!
Thanksgiving Break finally arrives, but he can't go home. Or rather, he won't. Not just yet, at least. He has decided that he is going to invite Bianca and Nico to spend the holidays with him and his mom, as well as whoever want to tag along. Grover will be there, maybe even Annabeth since she goes to that school in New York now, and Thalia as it will make Annabeth happy.
So he saves up his money and sucks it up. Delayed gratification and all that. His mom understood when he told her he wanted to spend the weeklong break at Westover, he just did not tell her why. He wants to surprise her for when the time comes, to have a full house for the holidays and spread the cheer.
Of course, he IMs her and catches her up on his events and his better grades. The reason for those grades especially catches her attention.
"So, I have this Bianca to thank for your report card then?"
Percy withholds a groan; he had forgotten report cards came out.
"She helps me with math, I help with science. It's an even exchange."
"I was under the impression that Annabeth was helping you, but I am glad to hear that you found someone to help and to help in turn. Speaking of turns, 'one good turn deserves another,' as they say. I'm proud of you honey."
"Thanks, Mom," then, unprompted, "You'd love Bianca."
"Would I?" his mom smiles, a teasing note in her voice.
"You would," he begins. "She's very handy. You know that Halloween costume I showed you?" She nods, "Well, Bianca helped me make it. From scratch! She's pretty clever, and she is smart too, like you, when it comes to people. She has a talent for it, she'll calm down Nico in one sentence and she helps me out the same way. Did I tell you she can cook? I didn't even know. She loves your cookies by the way. She dresses nicely too, you'd appreciate that. Bianca is patient and kind, probably more than I deserve. She speaks Italian! Well, she's Italian herself too that's pretty obvious, but you should hear her speak the language, it's beautiful when she speaks."
His mom is doing this thing, holding her own hand, and possesses such a tender look in her eye Percy doesn't know what to make of it.
"Mom?"
She seemed to snap out of whatever trance she was in, "Sorry Percy, I was just thinking."
"About what?"
"How much I would love to meet this girl, Bianca di Angelo. You have such a high opinion of her."
Well, yeah. Percy supposes he does.
How could he not? Bianca di Angelo is simply amazing.