A few more chapters until the end of Phase Two (There will be a Phase Three before this story ends). Let's goooooo!
Chapter 13: The Missing Piece
Goode's form picked up over the next few weeks, winning comfortably home and away 3-0 and 3-1. Percy and Jason scored in both games, adding to their growing tally. The team's confidence had returned, showing their steel during games to weather extended periods of opponents' dominance before striking back in sudden bursts. The back four who had played together for the past two seasons solidified into a living wall that repelled every opponent who came into the final third. The rotating midfield duo of Frank, Leo and Dakota sharpened, cutting out passes and runs to spring lethal counterattacks. Ahead of them, Goode's attackers took games by storm whenever they got on the ball, tearing through enemy defences like spears in a Greek phalanx. Annabeth continued to coach them, analysing each opponents' game plan and explaining to her players how to exploit their weaknesses during the half-time breaks. As a result, they tended to score most of their goals in the second half, taking control of the game as their opponents tired.
There was more positivity off the pitch as well. Charles Beckendorf, who'd been out injured since Annabeth came into the team, finally returned to training. He was an imposing figure, standing at six-foot five inches tall with bulging muscles like a rugby linebacker. More importantly, he was the only defensive midfielder in the team, something that they had been lacking ever since Annabeth had started watching them. He'd spoken to Annabeth once when he'd resumed training, saying he was rusty, but even in his reduced state Annabeth found him robust and industrious, an immovable barrier in midfield that no one could get through.
The last game before the winter break was a cup game, a knockout tie. Goode played away to Mosan High, a nondescript school located in a quiet suburb in a faraway town of the same name. Their team was equally unremarkable apart from their ludicrously tall centre-forward who according to statistics was the tallest player in their league at six-foot seven.
Annabeth's solution to containing Mosan's sky-scraping striker was to deny the rest of his team opportunities to launch high balls into the box where he was at his most dangerous. Goode's players understood the task and guarded their own half meticulously, closing down any Mosan player more than five metres inside the halfway line.
Goode soon realised that the Mosan striker's height was the only weapon he had. Matthew and Mark won their tackles against him every time he got on the ball. They could not stop him from heading the ball into the path of his other teammates, but were quick to snuff out the danger from those players before they could properly get on the ball. Mosan could not break through Goode's well-organised defence and Goode punished them on the break, scoring twice in the first half and again in the 62nd minute.
Annabeth sent Beckendorf on in the 70th minute. He'd came on in the previous two games as a late substitute and Annabeth wanted to give him a longer outing this time around in order to boost his match fitness. The imposing midfielder held his ground at the base of midfield, crashing into tackles every time an opponent brought the ball near him. Annabeth was impressed by his ability to shut opposing teams down and Goode's newfound solidity in midfield duly produced a fourth goal in the final minutes. Mosan had not managed to score a single goal and passed the ball between themselves until the whistle blew for full-time.
"So for this winter break, I've booked us a warm-weather training camp in Dubai," Annabeth began in her post-match debrief, making everybody laugh.
"That'll be the day," Leo snorted. "This school's so broke that we've been using the same goalpost nets for the past nine years."
"They're so broke that they only gave us one jersey each," Dakota added. "Mine's got so many holes patched up that its become like Swiss cheese."
"It's in a bad state," John agreed, grabbing a fistful of Dakota's shirt to inspect it. "This isn't a jersey anymore. It's a group of patches held together by the shirt."
"One more tackle, that's all it takes." Dakota held up a finger for emphasis. "One more tackle and this whole shirt comes apart."
"I'm glad its still holding up," Annabeth cut in, inclining her head toward Dakota. "But seriously, I did manage to get us some facilities for December. Proper ones that are sheltered from the wind and snow."
"What kind of facilities, Coach?" Leo asked. The whole squad was paying attention now, their interest piqued.
"An indoor pitch at the town's sports complex." There was a hint of satisfaction in Annabeth's voice. "We get to use it twice a week."
A murmur of surprised approval went through the dressing room. The town's sports complex facilities were modern and well-maintained, way better than Goode High's sparse football pitch and unheated locker rooms. The players all looked suitably impressed.
Jason had a question. "How much will it cost?"
"They requested for a nominal fee of a hundred dollars, so divided amongst the squad that's about five dollars each."
The players' pleasant surprise turned to amazement.
"There's no way it's that cheap," Leo shook his head in disbelief.
"Impossible," Frank agreed.
"Are you sure you didn't miscount the number of zeroes on that figure?" That last one was from Percy.
"Yes, it really is," Annabeth said to Leo. "No, I didn't miscount. It really is a hundred dollars," she told Percy.
"Per day, maybe." Jason still didn't believe it.
Annabeth shook her head. "No, the hundred dollars is for the whole month. Two days a week. Eight sessions total."
"But how?" Chris could not comprehend what his coach was saying. "That kind of deal doesn't exist. Unless your dad owns the sports complex or something like that. Does he?"
"He doesn't," Annabeth shook her head, smiling slightly.
"Then how?" Ron looked absolutely baffled.
The players' collective gaze turned to Annabeth, seeking the answer to Ron's question.
"Er…" Here Annabeth looked slightly embarrassed. "There's actually a catch. We're sharing the pitch with the girls' team. My team."
The players didn't look satisfied with her response.
"They aren't footing the rest of the bill, are they?" Jason asked immediately.
"No, they're not." Annabeth shook her head. "We're paying the same that you are, a hundred dollars."
"That still doesn't make sense," Leo spread his hands. "Those pitches at the sports complex charge hundreds of dollars per pitch, per day. There's no way they'd give us any kind of discount for their facilities."
"What's the catch, coach?" Nico, who'd remained silent until now, spoke up. "They wouldn't suddenly start being nice to us for no reason. There's always a catch."
"The girls' team didn't bribe them with feet pics, did they?" Leo exclaimed. "Because if they did—"
"You'd want to see them too?" Annabeth filled in, and everybody laughed.
"She's caught on!" Chris gave Leo a friendly shove.
"I don't have a foot fetish!" Leo insisted.
"There are no feet pics involved, I promise." Annabeth held up her hands. "That would be the end of our reputation, and our season."
She paused for a moment. "Actually, the pitch was only offered to the girls' team. I was the one who came up with the idea of allowing the boys' team to use it as well."
The players fell silent at the revelation, her words sinking in.
"Oh that makes sense now," Nico snorted.
"Sexist bastards," Leo said. "I knew they wouldn't be that nice to us."
"We didn't ask for a special rate," Annabeth was apologetic. "They offered us a pitch and a discount completely of their own accord."
Jason sighed, but remained silent. The rest of the players looked fairly nonplussed.
"Oh well, a discount is a discount, right?" Frank shrugged.
"I'm not gonna turn it down," Dakota agreed.
"Hey, hold up." Nico raised a hand as something occurred to him. "If both teams are using the same pitch, how are we going to split it?"
"The sports complex is giving us four-hour sessions from five to nine PM. Obviously neither team can train for four hours, nor are we planning for heavy sessions. It is still winter break, after all. We'll split the session into two blocks of two hours."
The players nodded in understanding.
"That sounds all right," Nico tilted his head to one side.
"What will we be working on?" Jason wanted to know.
"I haven't planned the exact exercises yet, but it'll be a lot of scenario-based drills and combination play." Annabeth explained. "We have players who've been in and out of the starting lineup, and some who've barely played at all this season. I want to get you familiarised with each other so that our play will become more seamless. If you didn't realise, our third game after the break is away to Union High. I've no intention of letting them put six past us again."
There was another hurdle for Annabeth to overcome during the winter break; her family's annual Christmas celebration meant that she had to contribute a dish to the dinner.
"You could do the salmon and veggies," Frederick had suggested to her. "It was really good."
"That's too simple," her mother disagreed. "This is Christmas dinner that we're talking about."
"How about the roast chicken? That was delicious." Frederick smiled dreamily to himself. "I think I can still taste it if I concentrate hard enough." Bobby and Matthew rolled their eyes at him.
"Coleen and her mother are already doing the turkey, plus a salad." Her mother shook her head. "That's too similar to chicken."
"Do you ever say anything good?" Annabeth muttered.
"I always do," her mother snapped. "Dig your ears."
"Oo, oo." Matthew's hand shot into the air. "A cake!"
"Cake," Frederick's eyebrows lifted. "What kind?"
"Chocolate!" The twins both said at the same time.
"Oh no," Annabeth shook her head. "Not a cake. That's too difficult. No way."
"You could do a pasta," Frederick mused. "Or some other kind of carb. Marcus won't be around for Christmas this year so he won't be making any pasta."
"Pasta!" Her mother looked horrified. "That's even worse! There's practically zero skill involved. What will people say?"
"How about, 'it's delicious'?" Annabeth said to her. "Or, 'great job'?"
"For making pasta?" Her mother scoffed. "No way."
"Potatoes, perhaps." With so much food swirling about in his brain, Frederick was positively salivating at that point. "Potatoes are always nice."
"Baked potatoes?" Matthew asked.
"I like baked potatoes." Bobby agreed.
"Your head is full of potatoes," their mother tutted at the three males. "That's too simple!"
"I can do potatoes," Annabeth decided.
"Great," her mother sighed. "The biggest family dinner of the year, and you're doing potatoes. That's going to impress absolutely nobody."
"Oh I think Annabeth will surprise you," Frederick said with a twinkle in his eye. "I have a good feeling about this."
"So I need to make potatoes." Annabeth said to Percy in the locker room the next day.
"Hmm." Percy leaned against his locker, looking absolutely smouldering with a thoughtful look on his face. "That sounds good."
You want to know what else sounds good? Annabeth thought as she stared at him in disbelief, trying to arrest the sudden tremble in her knees.
"What kind of potato?" He asked her.
"Uh?" Annabeth tore her eyes away from his shoulders. "Um, I don't know."
"Right, of course you don't." Percy was typically oblivious. "I'll think of something."
"Alright." Back at his place, Percy heaved a bag of potatoes onto the kitchen countertop. "Roast potatoes. First we have to peel them, then we're going to boil them." He reached under the countertop to pull out his trusty pot and started filling it with water.
"Didn't you say that we're roasting them?" Annabeth asked, confused.
"Yes, but we have to parboil them first." Percy sprinkled some salt into the water, put the lid onto the pot and turned on the stove. "Roasting potatoes all the way in the oven will take ages."
"What's parboiling?" Annabeth had never heard of the word before.
"Its a bit like simmering," Percy explained. "We want to cook the potatoes in the water, but not all the way because they still have to go into the oven after that. We don't want them to overcook."
"I see." Annabeth nodded in understanding as she tried to recall what simmering was.
The two of them picked up the peelers and got to work. Percy rinsed the potatoes off in a colander, then loaded them into the pot which was beginning to bubble.
"We have to control the heat here," he bent down to put his eyes almost level with the rim of the pot. "The water has to be steaming and rippling, but there shouldn't be any bubbles coming up. Bubbles will mean that its simmering, and that means its too hot."
"Ah." Her unspoken question answered, Annabeth felt a surge of satisfaction as she tried to commit the definition of simmering to her memory.
Another question surfaced in her mind. "How long do the potatoes have to be in here?" She pointed to the pot.
"About ten minutes," Percy seesawed his hand in a so-so gesture. "Meanwhile, lets go prep the oven and the trays."
Percy preheated the oven to 180 degrees.
"The magic number," he told her. "Most oven dishes will require 180 degrees at some point or other. It's inevitable." He snapped his fingers for dramatic effect.
He pulled out two trays and set them down onto the countertop.
"Could you get the butter from the fridge?"
Annabeth crossed the kitchen to the large refrigerator next to the oven. When she'd found the butter and turned back to the countertop, she saw that Percy had produced his big bottle of olive oil.
"So you can use butter, or olive oil. Today I'll show you both." He scooped some butter into the first tray, then poured olive oil into the second. He reached up into a shelf for a familiar bottle.
"Remember this?" He asked her.
"Red wine vinaigrette," Annabeth smiled.
"The secret ingredient," Percy sloshed a little into each tray. "Even though its red you won't see it once its all mixed up, but it'll make all the difference."
Percy turned to his spice rack and pulled out salt, pepper, rosemary, bay leaves and thyme, along with some cloves of garlic.
"We'll use garlic and rosemary with the butter. The olive oil one will have bay leaves and thyme."
They took one tray each. Percy sprinkled salt, pepper and rosemary onto the butter tray, while Annabeth copied him using bay leaves and thyme with the olive oil tray. They mixed the seasonings around with spatulas while waiting for the potatoes to cook.
Once the potatoes were done Percy drained the water off, rolling the steaming potatoes into a colander.
"See, the surface of the potato looks fully cooked, although the inside isn't. It's white-ish, it breaks apart and fluffs. That's your indicator to know when its ready." Percy gave the colander a gentle shake, making the potatoes bounce and roll against each other. Little bits broke off the surface of the potatoes, giving them a slightly crumbly appearance.
"If the potatoes were fully cooked, they'd break apart from the impact." Percy told her. "We don't want that because we're not making mash."
He distributed the potatoes evenly between the two trays and they used their spatulas to mix them up. Percy pulled on his oven mitts and they loaded the trays into the oven.
"Wait about forty-five minutes until they've turned golden brown, then take them out. There's a trick at the end to make it better."
When the forty-five minutes were up, Percy took the trays of potatoes out and set them down on the countertop. Annabeth watched as he used a round potato masher to gently press down on each potato, causing them to crackle slightly as they flattened into scone-like shapes.
"Another fifteen minutes and they'll be done," he declared. Annabeth helped him load the potatoes back into the oven.
"Oh, wow." Annabeth's eyes widened as she bit into a potato, feeling the golden-brown exterior crunch under her teeth. The flavour from the herbs was making her mouth water so much that she almost felt embarrassed. The inside of the potato, warm and soft, seemed to dissolve in her mouth. Each chew was a burst of starchy goodness. She shook her head.
"My relatives are gonna love this."
"Anyone who doesn't love these potatoes is probably allergic to them," Percy agreed.
They sat down for another tutoring session, the small plate of potatoes placed on the table in front of them surrounded by textbooks and notes. They slowly snacked on them while Annabeth worked him through math, then biology, then chemistry. It was an arduous process and the sun was going down by the time Percy finally gave up.
Annabeth stood and stretched, then blinked at the rays of sunset coming through the gate.
"How…" she glanced at the empty plate of potatoes, then at her watch. "Is it already six? Wow."
"That felt like forever," Percy groaned, rubbing his eyes.
"I'm supposed to be having a team dinner today," Annabeth pulled out her phone to check her messages. "No way I can get there in time on my own. I'll call Piper to pick me up."
"I could send you over," Percy offered.
"No, it's alright, Percy." Annabeth gave him a tired smile. "You've had a long day already and it's on the other side of the city." She hastily typed out a message to Piper, her fingers moving rapidly across the touchscreen.
"If she hasn't left already," Percy sounded doubtful.
"She hasn't," Annabeth sighed in relief. "Okay, she's on the way here." She pocketed her phone and started gathering her things. After she was done she turned back to him.
"How much of that were you actually able to absorb?"
"Maybe two thirds?" Percy made a seesaw gesture in the air using his hand. " I understood all of it, though. Thanks very much."
"That's good," Annabeth seemed satisfied. "Let me know if you need more help with it."
"Oh I think I definitely will." He gave a rueful smile. "I've never known a time when I didn't need help with studies. It just isn't my thing."
"And I'll always need help with cooking. I think this means we'll keep seeing each other then." Annabeth cringed inwardly as the words left her mouth, realising how bad they sounded, but Percy didn't seem to take notice.
"Guess so," he replied. "But hey, it's working for both of us."
"Oh yeah." A smile ghosted across Annabeth's lips. "It's definitely working."
"So hooooooow was your lesson," Piper asked Annabeth in a sing-song voice as they drove off from the sidewalk, lifting her fingers off the wheel to make air quotes with her fingers at the word 'lesson'.
"It went well." Annabeth ignored her friend's tone. "We made baked potatoes."
"He baked a potato in your oven?" Piper said suggestively.
"Stop it." Annabeth smacked her friend's arm. "You're being ridiculous."
"Oh come on," Piper rolled her eyes. "Everyone can see the way you look at him."
"What?" Panic flashed in Annabeth's eyes. "I'm observing his form!"
"And you admit it!" Piper said gleefully. "You're checking him out!"
"I am not!" Annabeth felt her face heat up. "I'm a coach! It's part of my job."
"Keep telling yourself that," Piper smirked.
"He really is a nice catch, isn't he?" Victoria said.
"He is," Reyna agreed. "And he's hot, too, on top of being a nice guy."
Goode's womens' football team had finished dinner and moved on to dessert. The conversation had also shifted accordingly to the more obscure topics that were on the players' minds, the current one being their male counterparts on Goode's mens' football team.
Annabeth was decidedly not enjoying the conversation for two reasons, the first being that she, as the guys' stand-in coach, was constantly being quizzed about their every detail as they went through each guy, scrolling through the list of players' mugshots on Goode High School's website using somebody's phone placed in the middle of the table.
The second reason was because the player currently displayed on the phone was Percy.
"He's so fine, I don't understand why he doesn't have a girlfriend yet." Rachel added.
"Any clues on that, coach?" Thalia, seated next to Annabeth, asked, giving the blonde a nudge with her shoulder.
"Uh?" Annabeth's brain took a moment to catch up. "No, not really. He does seem to be very busy, though."
"When's being busy ever stopped anyone?" Clarisse scoffed. "Chris plays basketball and plays in a band. For that matter, so do I."
"I dunno." Annabeth shrugged.
Reyna tilted her head. "Not busy enough to give you cooking lessons, though."
"Oooooh," Victoria crowed as the rest of the players started to grin. "Now it all makes sense."
Annabeth had a half-second to brace herself for the tidal wave about to crash down on her.
"So you're what's keeping him so 'busy', eh?" Thalia raised her eyebrows suggestively.
"No!" Annabeth shook her head vehemently.
"Cooking lessons." Piper nodded approval. "It's a great cover."
"I'm actually learning how to cook-"
"Cooking up a romance, that's what." Clarisse snorted.
"There's no romance-" Annabeth insisted.
"Has he shown you his spatula yet?" Rachel asked.
"Of course he…..Wait what the-" Annabeth sputtered.
"He teach you to make a bun in the oven?" Hazel's eyes sparkled with mischief.
"Stoooooooop!" Annabeth shot up from her chair. "Time out, okay?" She made the gesture with her hands.
"Annabeth?" The blonde glanced down to see Piper staring up at her.
"What?"
"You have never had such a strong reaction to anything. Ever." Piper's kaleidoscopic eyes were fixed on her's.
"Oh, yes." Rachel's face lit up as she realised what they'd collectively unearthed.
"I'm so glad we had this team dinner," Clarisse declared.
"Look, everyone, I—" To her own disbelief, Annabeth's voice failed her as she stared out at the sea of excited faces. The players' smiles stretched even wider.
"Sit down." Victoria pointed at her.
Wordlessly, Annabeth sat.
"This is gonna be so good," Piper rubbed her hands gleefully, earning herself a smack to the shoulder from Annabeth.
"Alright, here's the deal." Clarisse banged a large bottle of brandy onto the table, making Annabeth's eyes widen. "For every question that you refuse to answer, you drink half a shot."
"Where did that come from?" Katie was astonished.
"What?" Annabeth was incredulous. "No way! That's like signing a blank cheque!"
"That's the idea." Clarisse grinned evilly.
"Come on, that's too much." Annabeth said firmly. "I'm not doing it."
"Every three questions then." Thalia held up three fingers. "Does that sound fair enough?"
Annabeth considered it, then nodded reluctantly.
"Three?" Clarisse was in disbelief. "You're giving her a blank cheque. She's going to end the night completely sober."
"Oh I think we can get there," Thalia said wickedly.
"So, first question." Rachel started the ball rolling. "Have either of you actually made a move yet?"
Annabeth shook her head. "No."
A few disappointed sighs rose from around the table.
"Why not?" Victoria asked.
Annabeth spread her hands. "There just hasn't been an opportunity."
All the players groaned comically.
"How many times have you been to his house already?" Thalia shouted. "That's another question, by the way."
"Um," Annabeth frowned in thought, starting to count off her fingers. "Five? Maybe six?"
"Those don't count as opportunities?"
"They were cooking lessons! And tutoring."
"The two of you alone in his house isn't an opportunity?"
"Like I said, we were cooking," Annabeth repeated. "And tutoring."
"Ugh," Thalia buried her head in her hands. "You're hopeless."
"Annabeth, with five or six chances like that you should've buried it twice over by now." Reyna stated matter-of-factly.
It was football language, and they all understood, but everyone suppressed giggles at the innuendo Reyna had inadvertently created.
Rachel snickered. "Buried it in her p—" she managed to say before Hazel hastily clamped her hands around Rachel's mouth.
"Please don't say that."
"That's the spirit," Piper laughed. "When Jason and I got together…" She trailed off abruptly, remembering that Thalia was in the room with her. She risked a glance across the table to see the older girl about to spring up like a panther. "Um, sorry."
"I'm glad you stopped in time," Thalia told her. "Otherwise I would've buried you under my fist."
"Five or six times," Rachel couldn't get over it. "I can't believe you've been that many times alone with him and not even made out."
"What would he think if I'd tried to, though?" Annabeth countered. "I might put him off."
"How would making out put any guy off?" Rachel sounded baffled. "If anything it turns them on."
"That's not what I want." Annabeth shook her head vehemently.
"You don't want—" Rachel was at a loss for words.
"Annabeth, look at me." Piper grabbed Annabeth's face in her hands, turning it to face her. "Are you seriously saying that you don't want Percy to pick you up, slide you onto the counter next to the oven and kiss you like there's no tomorrow?"
"Whh—" Annabeth tried to push Piper away, but her friend had put more strength into her grip than Annabeth had anticipated.
"Answer the question," Piper demanded. "Honestly."
Annabeth's mind felt like two streams of water meeting in the middle, unable to flow in a single direction.
"That's one," Thalia said.
"Let me go." Annabeth pried Piper's hands apart to release her head.
"Next question," Clarisse had sensed Annabeth's weakness. "Have you ever checked him out?"
"For football," Annabeth started to say. "Because he's a player—"
Clarisse held up a hand. "Don't dodge the question. You know what I mean."
Again there was silence. Annabeth could not bring herself to speak.
"That's two." Thalia held up two fingers.
"If he did put you on the countertop, would you have said no?" Rachel pressed.
"What…" Annabeth's ears reddened as Rachel's scenario played in her mind. She tried to will the image away but to no avail. "I don't know."
"That's three." Clarisse said triumphantly. "Drink."
"You've set me up!" Annabeth realised.
"Three it was, fair and square." Clarisse magically produced a shot glass and filled it to the halfway mark with brandy. She passed the glass to Piper, who handed it to Annabeth.
Annabeth sighed in defeat. Reluctantly, she put the glass to her lips. The players cheered as she downed the contents in two long sips.
"Told you it we'd get her to three." Thalia said smugly.
Heat pooled in Annabeth's stomach as the brandy made its way down. There was fire flickering behind her eyes too; she hated being outmanoeuvred.
"That was just the start." Clarisse took the shot glass back from Piper and refilled it.
"There won't be a second one," Annabeth growled.
"We'll see." Thalia countered. "When did you realise that you liked him?"
"Um…" Annabeth had to pause and think. "I don't really know."
"After the first cooking lesson?" Hazel suggested.
"No, not that quickly."
"After the second one, then." Thalia put in.
Annabeth shook her head.
"When you started coaching the team?" Rachel offered.
"Not immediately, no. Sometime after."
"Somewhere in the middle?" Hazel asked.
Annabeth tilted her head. "Kind of, yes."
"I kept telling her it was obvious, but she'd refused to believe me." Piper tutted.
"That's why you need brandy." Clarisse slapped the bottle.
"I'm not drunk," Annabeth said defiantly.
"Oh you'll get there, don't worry." Rachel's words were worrying. "What d'you most like about him?"
There was silence again. "Um…"
"His smile," Piper guessed.
"His cooking?" Hazel asked.
"Legs," Reyna said slyly.
"I think this counts as another—" Thalia started to say.
"Eyes!" Annabeth blurted out.
"Damn, almost had you."
"Oh that's a good one." Piper nodded. "Percy has nice eyes."
"They're so green," Reyna agreed, looking at the phone in the middle of the table that still had Percy's picture displayed on the screen.
"If you had one hour alone with Percy, and you knew he'd agree to anything, what would you do?" Victoria threw out the next question.
"One hour?" Annabeth frowned. "Um, nothing I guess."
"You can't say nothing." Victoria told her.
"Why not? Nothing is an answer."
"Nothing doesn't count." Victoria shook her head.
"Doesn't count," Thalia agreed. "That's four."
"You could've said something simple, like talk, or play two-touch." Piper observed. "But I think you've got your mind stuck on something else and didn't dare say it out, hmm?"
"N-no." Annabeth denied. "I really couldn't think of anything."
"I've got one." Thalia said confidently. "What's your secret fantasy of Percy?"
"Secret fantasy?" Annabeth spluttered. "There isn't one!"
"I don't believe you." Thalia said bluntly.
"I don't either." Piper agreed.
"Kitchen sex," Rachel guessed.
"You couldn't be further from the truth," Annabeth said incredulously.
"Aha!" Victoria snapped her fingers. "You admit that there's a fantasy. Otherwise you would've kept saying there wasn't one."
"I think that calls for a shot!" Clarisse had clearly been waiting to use that line.
"My next shot isn't due until six," Annabeth protested. "Right now the count's only at four."
"You can't lie," Victoria pointed out. "That defeats the whole purpose."
"Alright, new rule." Thalia held up her hands. "A lie is worth a full shot."
"Yes!" Clarisse roared.
"No!" Annabeth protested.
"You shouldn't have lied." Rachel laughed.
"There's one way out," Piper said. "You tell us your secret fantasy of Percy."
"No way." Annabeth said firmly.
"One shot it is!" This time Clarisse brought the shot glass over herself.
"Drink! Drink! Drink! Drink!" The rest of the team chanted.
"I hate all of you," Annabeth said, then downed the shot.
"Now we're getting somewhere," Clarisse said.
"Actually, can I have some of that?" Thalia asked. "Watching Annabeth gulp down all that is making me thirsty too."
"Sure." Clarisse got up and headed for the kitchen. "What kind of drink d'you want?"
"Do you have the ingredients for a Metropolitan?" Thalia asked.
"Sure do."
"Oh, me too." Rachel raised her hand.
"Make that three," Victoria got to her feet. "Here, let me help you with all that."
"Can I have a Cobbler?" Piper asked.
Clarisse frowned. "I don't know the recipe for that one."
"Club soda and syrup," Piper answered. "D'you have that?"
"I do," Clarisse nodded.
"Brandy doesn't help quench thirst." Annabeth frowned.
"It'll help with this one." Thalia replied.
The interrogation finally paused as the players dispersed to make drinks or down the hallway for a bathroom break. Annabeth hoped that it would be the end of it, but to her dismay they all settled back around the table after they'd gotten back.
"Half-time's over," Clarisse grinned. "Let's continue."
Annabeth knew she was in trouble. The first half-shot hadn't affected her very much, but the second round of the full shot had started to make her head swim.
"Does this entire night have to be about me?" She asked.
"It does now," Thalia answered.
"Do you think Percy likes you back?" Hazel asked.
"I honestly don't know," Annabeth replied.
"Oh come on," Piper groaned. "His eyes are practically glued to you. It's so obvious!"
"Since when?" Annabeth frowned.
"Ugh," Piper shook her head vehemently. "You imbecile. How do I explain this to you? It's…it's beyond simple!"
"Start from the top," Annabeth replied sarcastically.
"Okay, okay." Piper took a gulp of her Cobbler, then gave a dramatic sigh. "He drives you home after every cooking lesson, right?"
"Yes."
"Even when it's late," Piper said. "And it's completely out of his way."
"That's just him being nice," Annabeth didn't understand.
"Normal guys don't do that!" Piper insisted. "They bid thee farewell and expect you to take the bus back on your own."
"Or they expect you to stay the night." Rachel added.
"He makes time for your cooking lessons despite his busy schedule," Piper continued.
"Yes, although-"
"But he hasn't once referred you to a cooking channel, or anything on YouTube."
"No, he hasn't."
"That's a dead giveaway," Piper declared. "It would be so much more convenient for you to learn from videos. Less time consuming, too. But he doesn't want that. He wants to keep you coming."
"One of my ex-boyfriends said something very similar to me, once." Rachel giggled. "Sadly he couldn't make it happen."
Half the team broke into laughter at that, while Annabeth groaned in disbelief and put her head in her hands. Hazel gave Rachel a shove, making her slump into the armrest.
"Stop it. You're drunk."
"That's fast," Victoria looked surprised.
"Oh she's always the first to go down," Thalia told her. "Such a hair trigger."
"I have a question," Victoria grinned at Annabeth. "If Percy pulled you into his bedroom for some action during the next cooking session, would you say no?"
Annabeth's eyes widened. "He wouldn't do that!"
"What makes you so sure?" Victoria fired back.
"You don't know what goes on inside his brain," Piper added.
"So what's your answer?" Victoria pressed slyly. "Yes, or no?"
The alcohol was beginning to muddle Annabeth's brain at this point. She struggled to think through the fog.
"Never mind, you don't have to answer." Victoria smiled in triumph as she handed Annabeth the shot glass. "Just drink."
"What? Why?" Annabeth squinted at the glass. "The count's only at four."
"Five, because you lied," Thalia reminded her, "so this is six."
"This?" Annabeth looked more and more confused. "But I didn't answer the question!"
"Exactly," Thalia laughed.
"You should have," Piper told her.
"But, but…" Annabeth could make neither head nor tail of the situation.
"Drink!" Thalia insisted, and Annabeth complied meekly, tilting her head back to down the half-shot.
"I think that's enough." Seeing Annabeth slide further into inebriation, Hazel was starting to get concerned.
"She's gonna get drunk off her ass," Victoria shook her head. "Oh, what have we done?"
"That was surprisingly funny," Thalia said. "But now that she's actually drunk, I think we have an opportunity for something really good." She pulled out her phone and started a recording, pointing the camera at Annabeth's face.
"So Annabeth," she began. "What do you think of Percy?"
Christmas dinner for Annabeth's family was always the biggest gathering of the year. Practically everyone showed up; as an unspoken rule, attendance was compulsory unless you had an emergency.
A gathering of that size required a lot of potatoes. Annabeth bought three kilos of potato from the supermarket, deciding that it was better to overestimate and have leftovers than to risk the embarrassment of running out early.
Her brothers came into the kitchen as she was laying out her things, wearing plastic fireman helmets from their stash of toys.
"We're here to help, sis."
"Oh?" Annabeth tilted her head in bemusement. "You're not going to try and blast my food with the extinguisher again, are you?"
They both shook their heads.
"All right then." Annabeth wondered what she could get them to do. "Let's start with the potatoes."
With two extra pairs of hands, she was able to set up a makeshift production line. Bobby was in charge of washing the potatoes in a colander above the sink. Matthew collected the washed potatoes from him and started peeling while Annabeth moved about the kitchen preparing the pot of water and the baking trays.
With so many potatoes, she'd decided to divide them into two batches, one for each baked potato recipe that she'd learnt from Percy. In one baking tray she poured a liberal amount of olive oil. A big chunk of butter went into the second.
She turned back to the twins. "How's the potatoes coming along?"
"He's washing faster than I can peel," Matthew complained.
"Peel faster!" was Bobby's response. "Put your back into it!"
"It's always faster to wash a potato than to peel it," Annabeth interjected before they could start arguing. "Here, I'll help with the peeling, too."
Once the potatoes were peeled Annabeth transferred them into the pot to begin parboiling. The pot was too small for all the potatoes to go at once so she split them into two batches. The first batch would go into the olive oil tray, the second into the butter tray.
Annabeth tried to involve her brothers as much as possible so that they wouldn't get left out. She allowed them to sprinkle the herbs and spices onto the potatoes, then gave them both spatulas and led them to mix the potatoes around so that they'd be coated in the oil and herbs. The olive oil tray went into the oven and the second batch of potatoes were parboiling in the pot when she realised she had a problem.
The butter in the second tray was still solid. She frowned at it, then snapped her fingers.
"Oh, right."
She scooped the butter out into a small saucepan and heated it until it turned to liquid, then poured it back into the tray.
That small hurdle overcome, she picked up where she had left off.
One hour later, they loaded the trays of potatoes into the car and set off to her grandparents' place for the gathering.
"Potatoes!" Her grandfather exclaimed, looking pleased as he caught sight of the golden-brown orbs in the trays that Annabeth had placed on the kitchen counter.
"These smell lovely, dear." Her grandmother gave her a gentle smile. She inclined her head toward the dish. "Rosemary?"
"You can tell just by the smell?" Annabeth was impressed.
"I may be old but I've still got it," Grandmother Chase tapped her nose. "They used to call me the 'bloodhound' back in the day, you know."
"I could never hide anything from her," Grandfather Chase chuckled. "She's too sharp."
The rest of the family arrived in twos and threes. Aunt Natalie and her cousin Magnus were already seated at the coffee table and her family joined them there. Her cousin Coleen arrived with her parents just after they'd sat down, her father struggling with a large covered platter that could only be the Christmas turkey. Coleen herself was clutching a few sealed containers of dips and gravies, precariously balanced one on top of the other. Coming through the door behind her was her mother holding a large bag of oranges. Magnus and Annabeth swooped in to help them. Annabeth felt a little guilty seeing the large amount of food they'd brought, compared to her two trays of potatoes sitting on the kitchen counter.
"You've made potatoes?" Coleen noticed them immediately.
"I did," Annabeth confirmed, wondering how they would react.
"We helped!" Matthew materialised at her side, beaming up at her older cousin.
"No cap!" Bobby added proudly.
"Did you?" Coleen smiled at them. "Teamwork makes the dream work, eh?"
"Avengers! Assemble!" Matthew yelled, making everybody wince.
"They know," Magnus blinked as the ringing faded from his ears. "They're coming."
"I'm here, I'm here." Another cousin, Scott, appeared in the kitchen doorway, having stepped through the front door just in time to hear Matthew's shout. "Scott Chase, reporting for duty." At six-foot four-inches tall, he had to duck under the doorframe. He dropped a large insulated bag onto the kitchen counter with an audible thump, making Annabeth's potatoes roll about inside the tray.
"My goodness, what's inside that thing?" Coleen's mother asked.
"A corpse," Bobby guessed.
"Why would he bring a corpse in here?" Coleen pretended to look horrified.
"It's Thanos's head," Matthew suggested.
"Eww, a head?" Coleen's mother shook her own. "The things you kids come up with these days. That's grotesque."
"It definitely isn't Thanos's head," Scott reassured. "But I did bring his gauntlet with me today. It's in my bag in the living room."
"You brought the Infinity Gauntlet?" Bobby exclaimed. "I wanna do the snap!" He ran out of the kitchen excitedly.
"No, don't!" Matthew chased after him. "You'll snap half the food away!"
"It's actually roast beef," Scott opened the bag in proof.
"That's huge!" Annabeth stared in amazement into the bag.
"We're never going to be able to finish that," Coleen shook her head slowly.
"Well I think it's just the right size," Coleen's father Franklin had come into the kitchen to inspect their wares. He was Frederick's older brother by one year and had a similar brand of humour.
He moved to Annabeth's potatoes, bending down to put them at eye level.
"These look crispy." He sounded suitably impressed. "I think they'll go well with our lemon garlic dip, don't you think?" He asked Coleen.
"I think it will," his daughter agreed.
"Nicely done, Annabeth. Potatoes are a good classic."
"Thanks, Uncle Franklin." Annabeth smiled.
Annabeth's potatoes were well-received all around. They weren't anything spectacular, certainly nobody said anything to such effect, but no one shunned them either and Annabeth knew they were a success when she looked around the table and saw one or two of her potatoes on every plate.
Only her mother had something bad to say about them. She started her complaint in the car along the drive home.
"Your potatoes were so simple," she began.
"Everybody liked them." Annabeth didn't see what the problem was.
"Yes, but they were just potatoes. Look at everyone else. Turkey. Roast beef. Bread pudding. Apple pie."
"What's your problem?" Annabeth flared up. "I made a dish, just like they did. You finally got what you wanted. Why can't you be happy and satisfied like everyone else? Did you see anyone complaining just now?"
"You can't seriously be comparing yourself to Coleen, or Scott, or the rest of them." Her mother said. "It was just potatoes."
"And so what?" Annabeth just couldn't understand. "What is wrong with potatoes?"
"You should have made something better, that's all I'm saying." Her mother shook her head angrily. "Don't go thinking you've reached the top just because you've made roast potatoes."
"I never even said that," Annabeth threw her hands into the air. "This is Christmas dinner, not a cooking competition. Why do you keep starting arguments?"
"I'm telling you that you need to be a better cook," her mother hissed.
"No I don't!" Annabeth lost her temper. "I don't need to cook like Scott or Coleen. I don't need to prepare fancy meals. Those are all conditions that you made up in your head. I don't need to do anything that you say!"
"That's the problem with you, Annabeth." Her mother turned in her seat to look at her. "You're too content. You don't look ahead. You've no ambition."
The fire in Annabeth's eyes matched her mother's own. She glared back, projecting every ounce of her fury in her gaze.
"You don't know anything about my ambitions. You couldn't comprehend them if you tried."
Thanks very much for sticking with this story. Next up is the blockbuster clash with Union High. Cheers!