Man, it's been ages. Glad this one is finally ready.
Chapter Eight: Ups And Downs
"Heya coach."
Annabeth stopped short as the greeting reached her ears. The voice was familiar, yet unexpected at such a time and place. She looked up, blinking in surprise at the four boys leaning on the guardrail.
"Percy?" Was the first thing to escape her lips. Oh, great.
The black-haired boy gave a friendly wave in response.
"Great game," Jason said.
"Epic," Leo agreed.
"Impressive," Nico added, nodding.
"What…" Annabeth struggled to figure out what they were doing here. "You were watching my game?"
"Of course we were watching your game," Leo said cheerfully. "You watch all of ours."
"That's an understatement, in her case." Jason said.
"Oh," Annabeth struggled to think through the distraction of Percy's green eyes. "How nice of you. That's great."
"A goal and an assist," Percy commented. "That's gotta make you man of the match."
"Um, I wouldn't say that," Annabeth felt her face heat up like a toaster. "There were many good performances today. Victoria, for instance, she scored twice. Reyna had a goal and an assist, too. Piper and Clarisse, their work rate was exceptional. Couldn't have done it without them." Annabeth realised she was rambling. Why on earth was she rambling?
Leo chuckled. "Do you always analyse every game you see?"
Annabeth blinked, startled. "Um, yes, I do." She was suddenly grateful to him for changing the topic.
Piper came sauntering up, drawing plenty of stares as she stopped beside Annabeth and leaned her elbow on Annabeth's shoulder.
"Hey boys," she beamed at the four of them, eyes lingering on Jason for a moment longer. "The debrief will be starting soon," she spoke into Annabeth's ear over the noise of the crowd.
Annabeth nodded in understanding. "Let's head in." She looked back to the boys. "Debrief," she explained. "I'll see you tomorrow at nine."
"Got it, coach." The four boys nodded.
"See ya." Leo gave a wave.
Piper and Annabeth turned to head towards the tunnel, feeling eyes on them as they strolled down the touchline.
"Do you think he's checking me out, or you?" Piper asked. It was obvious which boy she was referring to.
"You, obviously." Annabeth shuddered. "That's creepy. Stop it."
"Eight points clear, baby!" Clarisse yelled as they walked into the dressing room.
Annabeth and Piper joined the raucous cheers, jumping around and hugging the nearest girls. Thalia was pounding on a locker door, adding to the noise. Hazel grabbed Piper and whisked her into a ballroom dance in the middle of the dressing room. Annabeth laughed at the sight, skirting the two of them as she made her way to her usual spot and sat down hard, groaning at the soreness beginning to build in her legs. She pulled off her boots, wincing, then looked up as the noise abruptly died down, seeing team coach Chiron appear in the doorway.
"A smashing performance tonight, ladies. Well done to all of you. I'm cancelling training on Sunday, because I know you'll need more time to recover from today. See you all on Monday." He paused to take a long breath, winded by the stream of words. "Also, I have a surprise for you."
Reyna appeared in the doorway at that exact moment, arms full with a stack of unmistakeable flat boxes, piled so high that she could barely see over them.
"WHO WANTS SOME PIZZA!" She yelled.
The answering roar was so loud that it could have matched the crowd of home fans during the game. Thalia started banging on the locker door again, stamping her foot for good measure, then everybody stopped short as the metal door fell off its hinges, dropping to the floor with a big CLANG.
"Oops."
"Not again…" Annabeth groaned, covering her face with her hand.
"Thalia," Chiron sighed. "That's the third thing you've broken this month."
"The hinges are rusted," Victoria inspected the fallen door. "It was probably going to fall off anyway." She stepped on the protruding edge of the hinge and it broke off like a biscuit.
"Why is there Axe body spray in your locker?" Piper asked, horrified.
"What, this?" Thalia took the spray can out and shook it. "Dunno. I must've grabbed Jason's by accident." Thalia was immune to Axe after growing up around Jason, but knew how much the rest of them hated it.
"Don't." Annabeth warned, knowing her friend well.
Thalia grinned as she popped the cap off, finger settling on the trigger.
"Stop her!" Hazel cried.
Victoria was the closest and lunged at her, managing to grab her wrist, but it was too late. Thalia pulled the trigger and a loud hissing sound filled the room as the aerosol can sprayed its contents into the room.
"NO!" Annabeth backed away, but the room was small and there was nowhere to go.
"Oh, I'd better leave." Chiron slipped out the doorway, leaving the situation to escalate without him.
"Stop!" Victoria gagged as she wrestled with Thalia, trying to snatch the bottle from her grip. Reyna dropped the pizza boxes onto the table in the middle of the room and rushed over to help, trying to wrench the bottle from Thalia's grasp, but the black-haired winger had a grip like steel. Reyna's arms shook with the strain, slowly forcing Thalia's fingers apart. The bottle fell from her hand at last, clattering onto the floor, but continued to hiss like a smoke grenade as it rolled across the floor. There was a large dent visible in its side. Girls backed into every corner of the room, covering their mouths and noses.
"Why is it still spraying?" Piper yelled through the shirt stuffed over her mouth and nose.
"Answer!" Reyna demanded, grabbing Thalia by the shoulders and shaking her.
"One of Jason's bottles is defective and won't stop spraying." Thalia shrugged. "This must be the one."
"You psychopath!" Reyna choked out. "You'll kill us all!"
"My lungs," Hazel was curled up on the bench, shivering dramatically. "I can't breathe."
"Someone get rid of it!" Victoria yelled.
In desperation, Clarisse strode forward and booted the spray can across the room. By sheer luck it flew into an open locker. Piper grabbed the locker door and slammed it shut.
Everyone let out a collective sigh of relief, although the damage had already been done. The locker room looked like the scene of a chemical attack, red-faced girls gagging into their shirts as they slumped on the benches, or in Hazel's case, curled into a ball on her side like an armadillo. Reyna hauled Thalia up and punched her in the arm.
"I. Bloody. Hate. Axe." She punctuated each word with another punch.
"I don't know what the fuss is all about," Thalia giggled. "I don't smell anything."
"I do!" Victoria yelled. "And I hate it! Lunatic!" She gave Thalia's back a hard slap in annoyance.
"It's still spraying," Piper had her ear to the locker.
"That thing had half a can left," Thalia told her. "It'll take forever for it to stop."
"The entire locker's going to smell of bloody axe for the whole year." Reyna said.
Then the realisation hit them all at once. Piper looked up at the locker door, paling as she recognised the name pasted on it.
"Uh-oh."
"Whose-" Clarisse started to say.
"That's my locker!" Annabeth gasped.
She rushed over and grabbed the door handle, intending to fling the door open, but Piper blocked her, wedging her whole body against the locker door.
"What are you doing?" Annabeth demanded, trying to shove her aside.
"We're all gonna die if you open that door." She shook her head, eyes wide.
"Move away." Annabeth put her shoulder against Piper's body and strained, slowly sliding her along the bench.
"Help me!" Piper cried. "She's too strong!"
Katie and Hazel each grabbed one of Annabeth's arms, pulling her away from the locker, then realised that Annabeth's hand was still on the locker door and they were inadvertently helping her to force it open. Centre-back Miranda came over, bracing both hands on the locker door to keep it closed.
"Let me go!" Annabeth bellowed. "All my clothes are in there!"
Thalia howled with laughter at the sight. "You're gonna reek of Axe."
"You!" Reyna punched her in the arm again and she almost bit her tongue. "You're the one who caused this. You don't get to laugh about any of it."
"Wait! Wait!" Annabeth suddenly gasped. "You have to open the door!"
"We can't," Piper shook her head. "You'll have to sacrifice your clothes for the greater good. I'll buy you new ones."
"No, you don't understand!" Annabeth shook her head vehemently. "All the locker walls are made of wire mesh. All of them are connected."
The realisation took a moment to sink in.
"You've got to be kidding me," Victoria groaned.
"Everyone's gonna smell of Axe," Thalia giggled. "Oh, this is too good to be true."
"Shut up!" Reyna punched her in the arm again.
"Give this to me!" Victoria grabbed Thalia's leg and swept it up. She started to pull Thalia's boot and sock off.
"Hey! What're you doing?" Thalia wriggled and thrashed, trying to free herself.
"Do it!" Reyna grunted, holding Thalia in place. "Quickly, before she gets free."
Victoria tugged the boot free, rolled the sock off and crossed to the locker in two long strides.
"Open it."
Piper pulled the door open just wide enough for Victoria to plunge her hands in, grab the aerosol can and stuff it into Thalia's boot. She shoved Thalia's sock down over the opening, then turned and tossed the boot into the trash bin as another round of gagging went up.
"Problem solved." She glared at Thalia.
"This room's filled with Axe." Clarisse shook her head, pinching her nose.
Lockers began opening around the room as players rushed to check on the contents.
"Everything smells of Axe!" Piper wailed.
"This is all your fault!" Reyna waved a fist in Thalia's face.
"I didn't intend to put it in the lockers," Thalia said defensively. "It'll wash away. Mostly." She added the last word, staring at Annabeth as the blonde prepared to open her locker.
"Uh oh." Miranda took a step away as Annabeth reached out to grip her locker door handle. "Everybody get back."
The players collectively leaned away from her as if she'd just tested positive for covid. The closest ones took several steps back.
Annabeth steeled herself, taking a deep breath and almost blowing it out immediately because the air in the room still smelled of Axe.
"Here goes." She muttered, and opened the locker.
The gust of air from the swinging motion of the locker door made her eyes water even though she was holding her breath. She slammed it closed immediately.
"Thalia, I'm going to kill you."
The day of the Brenton match brought a full house to Goode's stadium. News of the boys' team's upturn in form had evidently spread. It looked like every single Goode High student had crammed themselves into the spectator stands, with hundreds more watching from the boarded railings around the edges of the pitch.
The small cluster of Brenton fans were in the far corner of the spectator's stands, a tiny group of white-clad supporters in a sea of blue. They were a pitiful number compared to the hundreds and hundreds of Goode fans and Annabeth doubted their presence would make much of an impact on this day.
The Goode players emerged from the tunnel to a wall of noise. Some of them looked stunned by the level of support, while others broke into big smiles as they recognised friends and family in the sea of faces.
Annabeth deployed the team in their now-familiar 4-4-2, bringing in Nico for Chris on the right wing. In the centre, Percy replaced Malcolm, who'd played the full 90 minutes the week before and needed a rest. The rest of the team remained unchanged, settled and rested after the 12-0 demolition of Dorson the week before.
"Remember, we're not chasing possession." Annabeth told the team before the game began. "We're not high pressers. Keep your shape. The ball will come to you."
The game started off at moderate pace. Brenton were slow to build up the pitch, wary of Goode's explosive threat on the break. They held on to the ball and passed it around, quick to play it back whenever Goode players tried to get close. They were solid if unimaginative and the first twenty minutes or so were uneventful as Goode's defence kept a cautious attack at arm's length.
After yet another careful buildup had been turned away by Goode, an attempted long ball was intercepted by Luke on the left flank. The Goode left-back steadied himself and sent the ball back to David under pressure from the enemy winger.
David had been observing the players in front of him and saw how Brenton's forwards had gathered toward the centre of the pitch in an attempt to cut the passing lanes into Goode's midfield. The tactic was effective, but of no real hindrance considering Goode weren't big on midfield build-up. He came out of goal to receive the ball, then sent it the opposite way to John on the right flank.
John knew there was space ahead of him as the ball came into his feet. He turned and ran up the pitch, seeing Nico start to accelerate down the touchline in front of him. He knew what the winger intended to do and played a fast ball into the inside half-space, newly vacant thanks to Jason's infield movement that took the centre-back guarding that space with him. Nico ran onto the ball, outpacing his marker easily. Brenton were suddenly on the back foot, alarmed by the sight of four Goode forwards closing in on their penalty box. Their centre-backs were used to outnumbering enemy forwards and didn't know how to react to the double threat of Jason and Percy.
The second of indecision was all Nico needed. He darted into the box and the centre-back, realising his mistake, left Jason to cover him. The goalkeeper had also moved to the left of his goal to guard against Nico and a simple square pass into the middle of the box left Jason with a tap-in into an empty net. The home crowd roared as the players gathered for a group hug.
Brenton tried to hit back after the restart and came close with a series of short, one-touch passes that managed to break through Goode's midfield, leaving Leo sprawled on the pitch after a failed attempt to win the ball back. Matthew and Mark fell back as the Brenton centre-forward ran into the box, then checked his run to receive the ball and fired a shot at David's goal. The muscular goalkeeper punched the ball away and the Brenton left-winger intercepted the ball in the box. His attempted shot was blocked by John and he gathered it back in, shielding it from the Goode right-back. Brenton's left-back ran into the box neck-and-neck with Nico and the enemy winger passed the ball into their path. Nico got across to block the cross and the left-back tapped it back to his winger instead who struck the post from point-blank range. The crowd let out a collective gasp at the near miss, then groaned as John scrambled to get to the loose ball and slipped on the grass as he tried to kick it away. Brenton's left-back was first to the ball and lined up an ambitious long-range strike that went alarmingly close to goal before David leaped up to deflect it onto the crossbar. The ball cannoned off the bar and out onto the left. Luke scrambled onto it and sent it long down the wing. Percy chased the ball down near the halfway line and managed to get on it, but a miscontrolled touch allowed the enemy defender marking him to pass it away. Jason chased the ball down and forced it back to Brenton's goalkeeper as Goode's defence recovered their wits, shaking themselves back into line.
"Get back into position!" Annabeth roared at Percy, who was closer to the rest of his team compared to Jason. "Cut the passing lanes into midfield!"
Percy moved infield to track Brenton's CDM as Jason ran back from the enemy penalty box. Goode had recovered and the game settled back down. Brenton continued to probe, but Goode's front line held firm and they could not find a way forward.
A few half-chances came to nothing over the next twenty minutes before Goode delivered another sucker-punch close to half-time. Brenton lost possession in midfield and Frank's raking pass sent Nico into space down the right wing. The enemy left-back moved infield to block him rather than challenge him directly and Nico darted back and forth before knocking the ball back to John, who had time to set himself up and launch a cross into the box. Brenton's centre-backs rushed to surround Jason and didn't notice Percy ghosting in from the edge of the box until it was too late. It was a windy day and a strong gust carried the ball further than John intended, but Percy took a colossal leap into the air and glanced the ball into the far post with the side of his head. The home fans erupted in celebration as Brenton defenders stared at the forward in disbelief, then started appealing for offside, but the linesmens' flags stayed down and the celebrations continued.
Goode went into the half-time break 2-0 up, Brenton unable to create anything in the few minutes left before the whistle blew. Annabeth nodded in satisfaction, deep in her thoughts as she walked down the tunnel to the dressing room. The game was going according to plan thus far, although she didn't put it beyond Brenton to spring a surprise or two in the second half.
"Just keep doing what we've been doing," she told the team. "Keep them away and wait for an opportunity. Brenton will play into our hands."
The second half began with disaster. Brenton came out fighting and Goode struggled to deal with their intensity and aggression. Ball after ball came into the box and David twice punched away long-range strikes from outside the box in the opening minutes. More attacks followed and the back line blocked another half-dozen shots between them. Goode were unable to maintain possession for more than a few seconds as Brenton swarmed over them with numbers high up the pitch.
"Stay calm," Annabeth called to her players from the touchline. "Don't let them rattle you. Don't lose your focus."
Brenton were clearly overcommitting themselves by throwing so many players forward. Though momentum was with them, their frenzied attacks lacked composure and Annabeth knew her team had the firepower to destroy them on the break. All they had to do was ride the pressure out and it would only be a matter of time before a chance presented itself. An all-out attack might win a game in the last minutes, but not in the early stages of the second half when there was still time for the game to twist and change. With close to forty minutes still to play, composure was more important in keeping a team in the game.
But before any chance could materialise Luke went into a challenge on a Brenton player as he cut into the box, both players tumbling to the turf after a second of bucking and shoving. Red-faced Brenton players surrounded the referee, pointing and gesturing. A roar of outrage went up from the stands as the referee blew his whistle and pointed to the penalty spot.
Annabeth frowned at the decision, then shook her head and looked away. The challenge had been fair. Such decisions were fifty-fifty and she'd expected a penalty the moment the two boys went down.
Brenton players were still arguing, trying to get John sent off, and the referee, unimpressed by their argument, issued them two yellow cards to shut them up.
The entire stadium seemed to be holding their breath as the penalty unfolded. David stood in the centre of his goal, banged his gloved hands together and cracked his neck. The Brenton striker took a short run-up before striking the ball low and hard to David's left.
Miraculously, the muscular goalkeeper had read his opponent correctly. The ball ricocheted off his boot as he dived low to his left. The crowd let out a roar of triumph as players on both sides came rushing in. Another scrambled shot was blocked by Luke's outstretched shin. A melee of players formed in the goal, kicking and struggling. Annabeth lost sight of the ball in the chaos, then Brenton were sprinting into the far corner in celebration, the ball rolling gently into the corner of David's net. 2-1.
"Damn it." Chris swore from the bench.
The stadium had fallen abruptly silent. Brenton's substitutes were jumping and shouting. Goode supporters were muttering and shaking their heads, believing the penalty had been wrongly awarded.
Both sets of players returned to their positions for the restart, but the Brenton substitutes hadn't settled down, still celebrating and waving their arms. They had been taunting the home fans with deliberate gestures in their direction and the stadium collectively decided to shut them down.
"GOODE HIGH." The chant boomed out without warning from the spectator stands with the power of a concert speaker, low and guttural. Annabeth and both sets of substitutes jumped at the sudden sound, twisting around to gape wide-eyed at the stands.
Annabeth felt the hairs on her arms stand straight up. Goode fans rarely ever used this particular chant. She herself had never heard it in person, not even on dominant days when their teams had swept the field. It had a menacing, hostile undertone that had been used in the past to intimidate visiting teams.
"GOODE HIGH." A second salvo reverberated out into the afternoon and Annabeth shivered. Some combination of events had stirred the fans into a combative mood. The atmosphere in the stadium had changed completely and the game suddenly didn't look like it was going to end well for Brenton despite their recent penalty. Annabeth's eyes glittered as she fed off the air of hostility. The Brenton substitutes had quietened down, rattled by the sudden shift. Their coach looked experienced enough and seemed more surprised than intimidated, but the same could not be said for his players on the pitch who were giving startled glances in the direction of the spectators stand.
Brenton had nonetheless been buoyed by their goal and came forward again, seeking to add to their score. They continued to leave themselves exposed at the back and Annabeth smiled to herself as she saw how the game was about to play out.
The turnaround came in the sixtieth minute as Leo ran onto a loose ball and managed to poke it to Percy before he could be tackled. The counterattack began from just inside the halfway line and the crowd roared as the four forwards accelerated upfield.
The ball moved from Percy to Jason to Nico with terrifying speed. The diminutive winger was a full stride ahead of his marker despite having started two paces behind. Brenton's panicking centre-backs were overwhelmed by the number of attackers bearing down on them and the clumsy challenge came far too late. Nico blasted the ball through the goalkeeper's spreadeagled arms and into the roof of the net to set off a third round of celebrations that day, and he returned the favour by sprinting to the small corner of Brenton fans and celebrating in front of them. 3-1.
"GOODE HIGH." The chant rolled over the stadium as Goode regained possession in midfield. Jason progressed upfield but lacked support and was forced back. Frank recycled the ball to Percy, who tried the same thing and was similarly crowded out. The ball flowed back to Mark who, under pressure, sent it a short distance upfield to John, seeking to maintain the attacking momentum. John could see no way forward and went long into the centre. Brenton's centre-backs gathered the ball with ease and settled back into their passing rhythm.
"GOODE HIGH." Percy battled for a long ball in midfield and lost. Frank came in fast to clear the danger and managed to send a long pass upfield to Ron. The winger went neck-and-neck with the opposing right-back all the way down the wing and eventually fired into the side netting from a tight angle.
"GOODE HIGH." Malcolm and Dakota started stripping off to warm up, bringing a smattering of applause from the home fans. Annabeth had seen the energy levels on the pitch starting to drop and knew her team could not last the remainder of the game without refreshment.
"GOODE HIGH." Goode were stringing passes together in midfield as the tempo dropped, Brenton momentarily falling back into a defensive block as they reorganised themselves. Goode circulated the ball around for a while before being forced back. Luke received the ball close to the halfway line and saw both Jason and Percy one-on-one with the Brenton centre-backs in the middle of the pitch. All the other Brenton players had pushed up to follow the ball. He nudged the ball out from under his feet and went long down the middle.
"GOODE HIGH." Percy and Jason broke into a sprint immediately, prompting a growl of excitement from the spectator stands. Jason checked his run and turned to chest down the ball, fooling the enemy defender who'd expected him to run onto it. The second defender lost his mind and veered toward him, trying to get across. He'd completely forgotten about Percy, who veered in the other direction. Jason slid the ball across to him. The goalkeeper was rooted to the line and could only watch helplessly as Percy took aim and rifled a shot into the back of the net. The crowd exploded into delirious celebration, a wall of noise that crashed over the pitch like a tidal wave. The score was 4-1 with twenty minutes to go. Annabeth knew that Brenton were too tired to mount a comeback and a smile of satisfaction slowly grew on her face at the knowledge that they'd had the game in hand, then a blush illuminated her beaming features as Percy, howling in delight, pulled his shirt off in celebration.
"You've got to be kidding me," she muttered, turning away and hoping nobody would notice her burning face, then she whirled back around as she heard the referee's whistle, her eyes widening as she saw Percy receive a yellow card for his exposure.
"No!" she threw up her arms in exasperation, the clipboard almost flying from her hand, at the realisation that Percy would now be suspended for the next game. "That's not good," she muttered. "That's not good."
Girls whistled and cheered the winger as he picked his shirt back up with a rueful smile. Frank threw a big arm around his shoulder, ruffling his hair good-naturedly as they walked back toward their own half.
Alarm bells rang in Annabeth's head as Jason suddenly sat down hard inside the centre circle, a troubled look on his face. Players gathered around him with questioning expressions, then Percy was straightening and turning, beckoning the referee over with urgent gestures. Nico caught Annabeth's eye and motioned for a substitute. Annabeth's heart sank.
Jason was shaking his head and pointing to his ankle. Percy and Frank helped him to his feet and he started limping his way toward the sideline.
"Jason's injured?" Somebody said from the bench.
"Oh, no." Malcolm, returning to her side from a warm-up jog down the touchline, said.
"Malcolm," Annabeth said immediately. "You're going in for Jason."
The blonde striker nodded, bouncing on his feet as he waited for Jason to approach and touch fists. Nico was walking back too, heading for his water bottle on the touchline, and Annabeth seized the opportunity to speak to him.
"I'm withdrawing you for Chris," she told him.
Nico nodded wordlessly, tilting his head up to fire a stream of water into his mouth.
"Chris," Annabeth turned to the bench. "Start warming up."
Chris nodded acknowledgement, standing. Annabeth turned back to the pitch, scanning her eyes across her players. Her gaze came to rest on Ron.
"Ron," she cupped her hands and shouted. It took two tries to reach the winger. Their eyes met and Annabeth made a substituting action with her hands, pointing to Dakota beside her. Ron nodded in understanding and started heading over.
"Help Frank and Leo lock down the midfield," Annabeth told Dakota. "The game's more or less over now. I just need you to shore up the team."
She took Malcolm's elbow, stepping closer to him so they were within earshot.
"I need you to lead the line. Block off the CDM as much as you can, but occupy those central defenders. Don't drop into midfield. We already have three players in there."
Malcolm nodded, looking worried at Jason's injury.
The rest of the game was uneventful. Nico and Ron came off for the last ten minutes, but while Ron headed down the tunnel and into the dressing room, Nico dropped wordlessly into one of the seats behind the substitutes' bench, wincing visibly as he pulled off his boots. The sight added more worry to Annabeth's mind. The young winger was clearly suffering from more than simple fatigue and she didn't like what she was seeing.
The home fans gave a loud roar at the final whistle, but this time Annabeth couldn't share their joy. Jason injured, Percy suspended and Nico on the verge of exhaustion. Their next game was a tough match against league-leaders Union High and Annabeth feared Goode were in for a hard time.
There was another problem waiting for her at home. Annabeth spotted her the moment she entered the house, leaning against the kitchen doorway with that infuriatingly superior expression on her face. Annabeth stiffened.
"What do you want this time?" She asked.
"How about a nicer daughter?" Her mother shot back. "That's not any way to greet your mother."
"Why should I be nice? Every time you see me you give me only trouble."
"It's not trouble, dear." Her mother rolled her eyes. "I only bring good things."
"So you do have something cooked up for me." Annabeth's shoulders slumped. "What is it?"
"Aunt Natalie and Magnus are flying in this weekend. Why don't you cook us all something nice?"
"I've already made my meal for this month."
"So there shouldn't be any problem making another one."
"Why do you keep giving me problems?" Annabeth shouted at her. "Why can't you just mind your own business?"
"I'm trying to teach you a life skill," Her mother ground out. "If you don't know how to cook—"
"I know how to cook!" Annabeth's whole body shook with anger. "I've proven that twice already!"
"You can't even roast a chicken." Her mother scoffed.
Annabeth's eyes went as wide as goalposts. She clenched her jaw to prevent her mouth from falling open.
"Looks like we're having chicken this Saturday, then." Her father spoke as he breezed through the kitchen doorway, putting his arm around Annabeth's shoulder and steering her firmly into the living room before the argument got any worse.
"Come on, Dad!" Annabeth exploded once they reached the sofas and out of her mother's earshot. "She can't just order me to cook meals whenever she feels like it. That's bullying!"
"Roast chicken is never a bad thing, whatever the circumstance." Frederick told her. "Everyone loves it, even you. And you are eighteen, after all. The relatives are starting to eye you up. There are expectations. They'll notice if you don't produce anything in the kitchen. You have to show them that you are capable. This will benefit you as much as it benefits my stomach."
Annabeth's own stomach twisted at the thought of her relatives sizing her up. She'd always gotten along reasonably well with the extended family and had never thought they would ever judge her.
"You can't be serious," Her eyes widened. "They'd never do that."
"Oh, they will." Her father promised. "Expectations come automatically when you are of age. Being able to cook and contribute to family meals is one of them. You must've seen all your cousins helping around in the kitchens during all those birthday, Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year celebrations. Chelsea, Lanesra, Alyssa, Lauren, Meg. They've all come of age. Now it's your turn."
Annabeth's eyes flared. "That's so sexist. Only girls need to know how to cook."
"Now I didn't say that." Frederick wiggled his index fingers. "The boys can dish up fine meals too, when there's an occasion. Scott, in particular. His steaks are magnificent. Marcus made pasta last Thanksgiving and we couldn't get enough of it. All are judged based on the same set of characteristics."
Frederick glanced over his shoulder toward the kitchen, then lowered his voice.
"Your mother isn't that great of a cook, although you probably haven't realised. The family knows it. So far, you've managed to conjure up better dishes than she's ever made.
"Think of it this way," he gave her a conspiratorial smile. "If you can produce something spectacular this Thanksgiving, you'll show the family that you're a better cook than she is. That will look good on both you and her. Everyone wins."
The idea of showing her smug mother up appealed immensely to Annabeth, but she had doubts.
"How could I ever produce anything that could match their standards?" Annabeth asked out loud. "They are so much better cooks than I am. I'm such a novice. I've just started out."
Frederick shook his head slowly, smiling. "You're selling yourself short. You're not that far off, I'll tell you that. And it's going to happen anyway, regardless of whether you like it or not."
"Wait, what?" Annabeth's eyes widened. "If Mom thinks she can force me to cook for Thanksgiving, I'll—"
"I'll be forcing you to cook for Thanksgiving if she doesn't. Or else someone else will. Like I said, you're already eighteen years old. It's time, Annabeth. It's your time."
"You've got to be kidding me," Annabeth stared at him in disbelief.
"I had that same thought when I tasted that salmon you made two weeks ago." Frederick smiled. "Wherever you're getting these recipes from, they're nothing short of epic. All you have to do is keep digging."
A small smile crept onto Annabeth's face at the mention of Percy's recipes. If only he knew that they'd come from someone rather than somewhere.
"I take it I've convinced you," Frederick saw the smile on his daughter's face. "Don't stress yourself out. Thanksgiving is a long way away. In the meantime, I'll look forward to roast chicken." He breezed out of the room, rubbing his stomach with one hand.
Left alone on the sofa, Annabeth flexed her jaw, deep in thought. She whipped out her phone to text Percy.
SOS, she typed out. Need another cooking lesson.
Percy replied after about thirty seconds. Sure, come over after the game. What's happened?
Relatives coming over this weekend. Mom's enslaved me. I have to do roast chicken.
No problem. I know a good chicken recipe. See u tomorrow in training.
See u. A small smile stole onto Annabeth's face at the thought of seeing Percy the next day.
As always, good to be back. Until next time, cya!
-Josh SB