Percy POV

THUD

The empty shot glasses hit the counter, and both Annabeth and I puckered our faces at the bitter taste.

What was I thinking?

Why couldn't I have responded to the drink with a simple, "thank you", and moved on with my life?

Once glance into her angel grey eyes, hidden beneath her glasses and I threw away any hopes of a simple "goodbye" with this girl.

We sat in a comfortable silence for a minute or so, as I felt the warm buzzing of alcohol in my system. I was at ease, and just for a brief moment, I forgot about the accident, my broken ribs, my parents, and the plane that was already nearing New York City that I should have been on.

Until she spoke, and brought me back to reality. "So," she drawled out, and I could tell I wasn't going to like the following question. "Are you going to tell me why that kid knew your name, or should I just pull out my laptop and Google you?"

"No no no," I quickly replied. I haven't searched my name on the internet since the day my accident went viral. I didn't want to read the rumors and articles about how close I was, but how I came up short. I knew it, and sure as hell didn't need to be reminded of it by other people. If I was too much of a coward to hear what my parents had to say, there was no way I was mentally strong enough to listen to strangers' comments on my status.

"I take it you aren't from around here?" I asked instead.

She gave me a funny look. "Well," she started. "Airports are generally a place where people from all over wait for their connecting flight. I don't see too many locals going through security just to sit in an airport bar."

A girl who could fire a sarcastic remark= turn on.

I let out a tiny laugh, and pointed to myself. "Well here is one local who did such thing." I paused to gather my thoughts, and gage how much of myself I wanted to tell Annabeth. I felt an immediate sense of trust, but that didn't change the fact that she was just a pretty face, who would board her flight and turn into a distant memory in just a few short hours.

I've been told so many times that maybe I would feel better if I talked to someone, and I'm sure those people who encouraged me seeking help meant from a phycologist, but Annabeth had two ears to listen, and she was much better looking.

"I'm a skier. Well, I guess an ex-skier. Within the skiing community, I was beginning to gain attention and respect. In January, I was supposed to compete in my first X-Games in Aspen, my home mountain. It was basically my only goal in life, to win a gold medal," I stopped to rub the back of my neck and shake out my hair in nervousness. This little tidbit of information was the most I've verbalized about my status of washed up skier. "I was practicing a couple weeks ago, made a really really dumb decision, and fractured a couple of ribs and had a partial tear on my meniscus. Hence this constricting thing." I lifted up my shirt to reveal the black brace around my midrift. "The fall partially collapsed my lung, and I thought I was going to stop breathing."

I let out a breath, and hunched over my empty glasses once again. I didn't want to look in her eyes, that I'm sure would be searching for so many answers to the unasked questions.

She surprised me when she finally spoke up. "I'm no doctor, but I know that broken ribs can heal in months or even weeks. What's to stop you from competing in the next X-Games?"

I sucked in a breath. That was the one question I didn't want to be asked, because I didn't have an answer.

"Next question," I uttered, my mind spinning with possible excuses as to why I was giving up so easily.

A couple weak explanations came to mind, but got lodged in my throat, because I knew that Annabeth would recognize the invalidity of them.

I would lose skill before then. I would be set back behind the other competitors. Being 24 wasn't exactly the youngest man in the competition, and taking a year off would be allowing younger skiers in their prime years, to take my place.

"So why are you, a guy from Colorado, sitting in the Denver airport bar for? Did you just arrive REALLY early for your flight? Or do you just enjoy this bar so much you go through security to hang out?" Annabeth badgered. She was leaning on one fist, gazing at me from under those cute glasses. Her golden hair hung down around her, affirming her angelic status.

I didn't want to keep talking, but something about her urged me on. "My flight left," I glanced at the time on my phone. "almost two hours ago. I just missed it."

She raised her eyebrows at the offhandedness of my comment. "Well shouldn't you be at the desks, getting a new flight?" She stopped, then continued to ask more questions. "Where was it going? Why did you miss it?"

"Woah, angel. Take a breath." She smiled at me in a sheepish matter. And my heart stopped beating. What was this girl doing to me? "I missed it on purpose. It is probably nearing New York at this point."

A tiny laugh escaped Annabeth. "Well, uh, any particular reason that you purposely missed your flight?"

I simply responded with, "I am a coward with family issues, as well as previously stated life issues. Now enough about me. All I know is that your name is Annabeth, you look like an angel, and you were having an awful day before you met me…" I trailed off at the end and glanced at her, hoping to see some kind of indication that she thought I was funny.

When her cheeks turned red she laughed, I wanted to stand up and scream at my victory.

"My name is Annabeth Chase. I am currently unemployed, and my two step-brothers are on their way to be the youngest billionaires in the fucking world." I could tell the alcohol was influencing her choice of words, but I let her continue thinking this may be therapeutic for her, as it was for me. "I live in an apartment in New York with two people who I barely know, just because the rent is the cheapest I could find, and my step-brothers live in homes that are worth ten folds my personal worth. I am single, and my step-brothers are either engaged or about to be, to women who are tall, beautiful, intimidating, and just as successful as themselves." She took a deep breath, and I thought she was going to stop speaking, but she kept going. "And now, I'm on my way 'home'," the way she said home made me flinch. She said it with so much hatred. "To be compared to the golden boys and reminded of how much of a failure that I am."

The brokenness in her voice startled me. I searched my mind for things to say that would ease her own mental suffering, but I came up blank. The only thing I could think of was to burden her with my own family drama. After all, we did call this a 'who's life sucks more' contest.

"My mom and step-dad seem to hate me. They don't admit it, but I see it in their eyes. They've wanted to me quit skiing for as long as I could remember. I know that when I see them and tell them about my accident, the whole week will be them reminding me 'I told you so' and I can't put myself through that. Not yet."

We both let out sigh simultaneously, and then laughed.

"Wow, it's a toss-up as to who is leading the 'who's life sucks more' contest. Stay tuned for more," she grumbled. "So, why do they oppose your love for skiing so much?"

My whole body went ridged, and she must have recognized that it wasn't up for discussion because although she was previously laying on her fist, she immediately sat up straight and widened her eyes. I merely shook my head in response. I would verbalize so much, but not any mention of my father's death.

Annabeth reached out, and set a tiny hand on my upper arm, in a gesture of comfort. I leaned into her touch, and we didn't move for a while.

What a sight. Two complete strangers leaning into one another for comfort in an airport bar. About an hour ago, we didn't know each other's names, and now she knew more about me than anyone on the planet, save maybe Grover.

Slowly she raised her hand from my body, and turned to me with eyes as wide as saucers. "Come home with me," she spluttered out.

I opened my mouth to tell her she probably wasn't in her right mind, and would regret this decision later, but she slapped a hand over my mouth and stopped me from talking.

"No!" Her voice started to rise. "This is a genius idea! You come home with me, pretend to be my boyfriend, and successfully divert a fraction of the attention away from how much of a failure I am, to you. They will ask you questions and maybe, just maybe have a little bit of respect for me."

Once again, I opened my mouth to protest, but Annabeth silenced me again.

"Listen Percy, you have credit from your plane to New York. We get you a seat on my flight to San Fran, you stay at my parent's house and be my boyfriend, and save my ass big time. You don't even realize how much of a favor you would be doing me. Plus, it's the perfect excuse for you to not go home to your parents. You tell them you're with your girlfriend."

Annabeth's eyes were filled with hope, and the fact tugged at my heart strings. Something about this girl drove me absolutely crazy. The way she leaned in closer to me, and a could catch a whiff of how amazing she smelt, wasn't helping me to make a rational decision. I don't know what was wrong with me, but when her face lit up with a smile it made it all worth it.

"Yes," I spluttered out. "Let's go change my flight."

A/N: Okay here is chapter four! I'm excited about this chapter, and the future of the story. Please please please leave a quick review. Happy New Year, have fun tonight ;)