Chapter Text
Scene One – The Closet Incident
You know what’s romantic? Closets.
I don’t care what anyone says, if you’re seventeen at a house party, a dark empty closet is basically the Mount Olympus of opportunities.
So there I was, hand-in-hand with Annabeth, tugging her down the hallway like a criminal about to commit the heist of the century. My heart was racing, my palms were sweaty, and all I could think was, Finally. Alone. Five freaking minutes without—
“Jackson.”
I swear I almost peed myself.
We both turned, and there was Luke, leaning against the wall like he’d just spawned from the shadows. His curls looked annoyingly perfect. His arms were crossed. His glare could’ve sliced me in half.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, voice low and dangerous.
“Uh,” I said intelligently. “Laundry. We were, uh, gonna…fold socks?”
Annabeth smacked my arm. “We weren’t doing laundry, Seaweed Brain.”
Luke’s eyes narrowed. “Damn right you weren’t.” He shoved off the wall, looming like some kind of terrifying dad-figure. “Find another hallway.”
Annabeth groaned. “Luke—”
But he was already herding us back toward the living room like two misbehaving toddlers.
Closet: denied.
⸻
Scene Two – The Kitchen Disaster
Later, Annabeth and I ended up in the kitchen. Everyone else was dancing in the living room, so it was perfect—quiet, dim, with just enough counter space to pull her against me and maybe, just maybe, get a kiss that didn’t end in catastrophe.
Her braids brushed my cheek as she leaned closer. My brain short-circuited. This is it, I thought. We’re alone. Thank you, gods. Thank you, fate. Thank you—
“Don’t even think about it.”
I flinched so hard I banged my hip on the counter.
Luke again. Standing in the doorway. Eating a bag of chips like the kitchen was his personal watchtower.
“Seriously?” I snapped. “Do you have a tracking device on us?”
He crunched a chip loudly. “I don’t trust you.”
Annabeth sighed. “You don’t trust anyone.”
“You’re right,” Luke said easily. “Now, Jackson, take three steps back before I decide to introduce your face to the sink.”
I wanted to argue. I wanted to yell. But Annabeth gave me the don’t push it look, and gods help me, I listened.
Kitchen: denied.
⸻
Scene Three – The Backyard Betrayal
Okay, new plan. Outside. Stars, grass, romantic vibes. No way Luke could ruin that.
Annabeth and I slipped out the back door. The night was warm, the sky was clear, and she leaned against me with this little smile that made my whole chest ache.
I kissed her forehead. She tilted her face up to me. My pulse went wild. Yes. This is happening. Finally—
The porch light flicked on.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I groaned.
Luke stood at the sliding door, arms folded, glaring out like the grim reaper of romance.
“Inside,” he barked.
Annabeth threw her hands up. “You’re unbelievable!”
“Thank you,” Luke said without a hint of irony.
Backyard: denied.
⸻
Scene Four – Thalia Joins the Game
At some point, Thalia realized what was going on. And instead of helping, like a normal person, she decided to make my life worse.
We were on the couch, Annabeth sitting sideways on my lap, close enough that my brain was basically static noise. I’d just worked up the nerve to tuck her braids behind her ear and maybe kiss her neck—when Thalia plopped down on the cushion beside us.
“Sup, lovebirds,” she said, grinning wickedly.
I froze. Annabeth stiffened.
“Don’t mind me,” Thalia added. “Just making sure Luke doesn’t miss anything.”
“Thals,” Annabeth warned.
“No, no, keep going,” Thalia teased. “This is great. I’ll provide commentary. Play-by-play.” She cupped her hands around her mouth like a sports announcer. “Percy Jackson leans in—oh wait, he’s blocked by Big Brother Castellan! Crowd goes wild!”
Annabeth buried her face in her hands. I considered yeeting myself out the window.
Couch: denied.
⸻
Scene Five – The Car Attempt
By the end of the night, I was desperate. Desperate like “I’ll sell my soul to Hades for ten minutes of privacy” desperate.
So when Annabeth suggested we sit in my mom’s old car parked out front, I almost cried with joy. Cars had doors. Doors locked. It was perfect.
We climbed in, shut the doors, and for the first time all night, silence. Just her and me. Her hand found mine in the dark.
I kissed her.
Finally. Finally.
Her braids slipped between my fingers, her laugh against my mouth was soft, and my entire brain was just fireworks and the word yes.
And then—
Tap. Tap. Tap.
I froze.
Annabeth pulled back, frowning. “What was—”
Tap. Tap.
We turned.
And there was Luke.
Standing outside the driver’s side window. Arms crossed. Face like thunder.
I swear to the gods, I almost screamed.
Annabeth groaned so loud I thought she’d break the windshield.
Luke didn’t move. Just stood there, expression saying loud and clear: I dare you.
Car: denied.
⸻
Scene Six – The Final Straw
By the time the party ended, I was wrecked. Every attempt had been crushed. Every kiss interrupted. Every romantic moment turned into a comedy of errors starring Luke Castellan: Cockblock Extraordinaire.
Annabeth and I ended up on the porch as people filtered out. She leaned against me, exhausted, her braids falling over her face.
“This night sucked,” I muttered.
She laughed. “It wasn’t that bad.”
“It was torture,” I said flatly. “Actual, physical torture. Your brother is a demon.”
“He’s not my brother,” she corrected automatically.
“Could’ve fooled me.”
She smiled, and gods, she was so beautiful it made my stomach hurt. I kissed her temple. “One day,” I whispered. “One day we’re going to get five minutes alone, and Luke isn’t going to stop us.”
Annabeth smirked. “Wanna bet?”
I groaned.
Because deep down, I knew she was right.