Work Text:
Five Summers Ago
It goes like this:
Percy Jackson is twelve years old, serving detention for something he definitely did, but says he didn’t.
He specifies this, because after him walks in a scrawny kid, picking at the ends of his curly hair. A tear track reflects on his tan skin as he takes the seat next to Percy. He recognizes him from the grade above.
Percy watches as the teacher scolds him one last time before leaving. He frowns, leaning over.
“You didn’t touch that kid,” he whispers. “I was out there this morning. He just knows how to cry on command.”
The other guy shrugs.
“It‘s just easier to go with it, sometimes,” he replies. “Everyone thought I did, so…”
“That’s garbage,” Percy says, shaking his head. “I can help you, if you want to—you know, stand up for yourself.”
The other boy considers it for a moment. He nods.
“I’m Grover.”
Percy knows hard friendships. Where he feels out of step, like he’s always saying the wrong thing and being looked at weird.
This is not that kind of friendship.
Percy teaches Grover how to throw a punch. This lands them both in detention the next week, and begins a long road of trouble (encouraged by Percy) that should worry their parents, if Sally Jackson were an ordinary mom, and Grover’s parents were home enough to take notice.
The subject of Grover’s parents never being home (ornithologists, he explains, studying endangered birds in remote corners of the world) is how he ends up on vacation with Percy and Sally.
The three of them pile up into an old car to Montauk, where the two Jacksons have made a tradition of visiting.
On their first day at the beach, the pair are approached by a young girl with wide, knowing brown eyes.
“You’re making a sandcastle all wrong,” she says as a greeting, flicking her long dark braids back.
“We’re not making a sandcastle,” Percy retorts. The, we’re not babies is implied. “We’re trying to dig to the earth’s core.”
“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”
She talks like she’s several years older than she is, and looks at Percy like he’s several years younger than he is. Which is fair, as he’s probably too old to be playing with beach toys by now.
Still, he holds up a shovel. “Do you want to help us…?”
“Annabeth,” she supplies. “And, yes. Obviously.”
Some friendships really do come that easily, to the lucky few. To Percy, Annabeth, and Grover, at a time they needed it most.
The three were inseparable all summer. On their last night together, watching the sun fall lower into the horizon, they make a promise to find their way back next year, and every year for the rest of their lives.
The promises you make as children are simple. They reveal the most pure parts of ourselves, the parts that want to belong, and to feel known.
The bond the three of them have is special, and for a long time they did meet, every year on the shores of Montauk.
It goes too slow and too fast, like a dream that you can't pull yourself out of. It goes through sleepovers in the same bed, late night rescues from bad situations, awkward first parties and communal birthday cakes. It goes through secrets, as they age, that threaten the foundation of that promise.
This is how it goes.
Four Summers Ago
Annabeth wrings her hands as she asks permission.
It’s her second summer in Montauk. Her father is frowning down at her as she asked a question too audacious for someone her age and her size.
He’s probably about to tell her that, before her step-mother steps in.
“Oh, let her go,” she says, her ever present smile-frown on her face. “She’ll probably have more fun with kids her own age.”
So Frederick Chase lets Annabeth sleepover at the Jackson cabin.
Deep down, Annabeth wishes there was more of a fight. She wishes he asked more questions, maybe even said no. It would show he cared, on some level, about her wellbeing.
But she will confront this at a later time. For now, she packs her things with glee, grateful to enjoy the time away from her stepbrothers and closer to her favourite people, who she had been waiting to see all year.
If her dad’s wife had her way, they would have spent this summer at Disney World, but Annabeth pushed this destination harder than she has for anything in her young life. It’s been a source of tension in the Chase household for several months.
Annabeth doesn’t dwell on these feelings as she skips the steps up to the cabin at the very end of the dock, close to the septic tank.
“Guys,” she bursts through the door, “They said yes—”
She cuts herself off once she makes sense of the scene waiting for her inside.
Sally is not there —she’s taken to picking up shifts at the diner so that they could have a longer trip this year.
Grover and Percy are planted in front of her television, as they’ve done many times before, except this time they're watching the news.
The news chyron reads about flash floods devastating a remote community in—
“Isn’t that where your parents are?” she blurts, perhaps without thinking it through.
The two turn to look at her. Grover’s eyes are glistening with tears. He nods once, a defeated action before turning back to the television.
Percy meets her gaze. A silent conversation crosses between them.
She asks, is he okay?
Percy shakes his head.
She takes a seat between them, placing a supportive hand on Grover’s arm.
“I tried calling, texting, and emailing. I called the university department head. I can’t get a hold of them.”
When the news anchor begins rattling off death tolls and missing persons, Percy grabs the remote.
“Alrihgt, that’s enough of that. Let’s watch a movie.”
He finds a DVD of The Princess Bride. Grover picks at his nails, the ends of his hair, the skin on his lips, the entire time.
When the credits roll and the sky is darkened outside, Grover’s eyes are glistening again. He checks his phone and frowns when he doesn’t see any new messages.
“I appreciate what you guys are doing,” he says with a thick voice. “I think you should just get some sleep. I just want to be alone right now”
“Hm,” Percy pretends to think, “No.”
“No?”
“Annabeth,” Percy turns to her. “Does that sound right to you?”
Another silent conversation, another mutual understanding.
“Not at all,” she says.
“I thought so,” Percy replies. “Well, that’s two against one, so we’ll meet you in five minutes.”
So that’s how they end up in Grover’s bed, Annabeth squished against the wall. Percy hanging off the edge, and Grover in the middle, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling. There’s about five pillows and three blankets piled between them, and the bed was never that big to begin with.
They cut the lights and talk. They talk about the things that are easier to say in the dark, that are scarier to admit in the light of day. Annabeth tells them how she wishes her family worried more, cared more. How much things changed since her stepmom came into their lives.
Percy talks about his own father, the few things he knows about him: British, with more money to his name than some small countries. Out of his life because his wealthy family did not approve of Sally.
Grover tells them how scared he is to lose his parents. How much he wishes they would stay home for once.
So then they started talking about fears, big and small. Spiders, failure, being left behind, being forgotten. Being too much, not being enough.
Grover finally falls asleep halfway through a story about learning to ride a bike.
Sally finds them the next morning, reading an email from Grover’s parents confirming their safety, but the sight of them makes her pause.
Annabeth’s head rests on Grover’s arm. Percy’s legs hang halfway off the bed, but his arms are spread out, almost protectively.
She takes a picture and prints out several copies. The picture becomes a permanent fixture in various lockers, bedroom mirrors, and refrigerators over the years.
Present Day
When they arrive in Montauk, it’s raining. Annabeth hopes this is not a bad omen, as she spent the entire bus ride with her stomach in knots, wondering if she should have come at all, and all her brain needs is a sign to turn back.
Grover and Percy are waiting for her at the bus stop, Grover’s arms outstretched.
“Annabeth!” He calls out as she disembarks, as if she can’t see him, and the giant sign he’s made that says Welcome Back Our Little Delinquent, which she presumes is because she gets into the least amount of trouble out of the three of them.
She forces a bright smile on her face.
“Happy belated birthday!” she calls out, running over to them. Her backpack bounces against her back, duffle bag slamming at her sides. She slams into Grover’s open arms.
“Oof,” he exclaims, throwing his arms around her. “Thank you, eighteen years old and finally entrusted with the two of you without Sally.”
Not that Sally ever imposed much on their trips before, content to leave them to their own devices. But Annabeth smiles at this anyway.
They pull away, forcing her to finally meet Percy’s eyes. He stands a little farther from them, with a smile-grimace that gives away how uncomfortable he feels, too. Like, maybe he was hoping she’d chicken out and turn back, too.
“Hi,” he says, raising his hand up in a wave. They stand five feet apart now and she tries not to lament the space. Tries not to think about how last year she would have launched herself at him too.
“Hi,” she says, waving back, feeling utterly ridiculous.
“Come on,” Grover pushes ahead, walking down to where his beat up, recently purchased used car is parked. “We don’t have time to waste. This summer is going to go quicker than we know it.”
“Bonfire supplies?” Percy asks, finally tearing his gaze away from Annabeth.
“Definitely,” Grover responds. The two of them launch into a logistical discussion of the first bonfire, which might be thwarted now due to all the rain.
Omens…
The front seat is piled up with everyone's items (as this car has no trunk), and so Percy and Annabeth slide into the backseat.
Grover launches into a discussion about their summer plans as they drive.
“Do you guys remember the bucket list?” Grover asks, “The one we made, what, four summers ago? We should try to work through that before the end of the year.”
“Why, are you planning on kicking the bucket?” Percy says dryly, picking at a thread on his seat. “You’re going to college, not war.”
“Ha,” Grover swallows hard. “I’m just saying, we’re getting older, things are changing, it’s the best time. Right?”
Annabeth steals a glance to Percy out of the corner of her eye.
Everything has changed, she wants to say. Really, she wants to scream it.
“I think it’s a great idea,” she says instead. Her voice is steady.
Percy’s eyes find hers.
“Right,” he says.
Another silent conversation passes between them, a mutual understanding. It feels like flexing an old muscle.
Keep the peace, they agree, for Grover’s sake.
Three Summers Ago
The months that stretched between summer vacations used to be especially hard on Percy.
Grover started going to a different school, Annabeth was several states away.
Still, the three found their ways to communicate. One would send an invite for a group call, there was an email thread for different occurrences, a shared document for homework tracking (courtesy of Annabeth Chase).
Percy always felt close to his friends throughout the year, but nothing compared to the feeling of seeing them on the first day of vacation. Not many things could ruin it.
However, Annabeth dropping this gem over their inaugural bonfire might just—
“Oh, and did I mention Luke is also staying in Montauk right now?”
She says this casually, like it had slipped her mind until this moment. If he knows anything about Annabeth, he’d have to guess she was rehearsing this in the bus ride over.
Percy and Grover exchange a glance.
He’s made it no secret how he feels about Annabeth’s friend, Luke Casetellan, and how bizarre he finds the whole thing, really.
For one thing, he’s much older than the rest of them. For another, he dresses and acts like a douchebeg. Also, Percy thinks he’s a flat-earther, but that’s another issue.
“That’s great,” Percy says levelly.
Annabeth nods, picking at the sleeves of her sweater in an uncharacteristic display of nerves.
“He has some friends staying in town,” she continues with the script she must have written down somewhere. “They have a house by the marina. He said we can come by tomorrow night.”
Grover lets out a heavy sigh, like he knows where this conversation is about to go.
“Yeah,” Percy smiles, “I’ll pass, thanks.”
Grover whispers an, oh boy, under his breath.
Annabeth’s eyebrows furrow.
“Is there a problem?”
Percy shrugs, trying to arrange his features into the perfect mask of non-chalance.
“Nothing,” he says, “You know how I feel about the guy. What kind of twenty year old hangs out in high school parking lots anyway?”
“I told you,” she says through gritted teeth, “He’s a family friend. It’s not weird.”
“Did you know he found me on Instagram last month and tried to get me to sign up for his Crypto scam?”
“That’s—” her eyes hit the ceiling. “That doesn’t have anything to do with—”
“So how many other high schoolers are invited?” he pushes.
“None, just us,” Annabeth touches the ends of her braids. “I think the rest of the group is his college friends.”
“Oh, so you’ll be the only one. That’s normal.”
She throws her hands up in the air in exasperation.
“He’s trying to be nice.”
Percy scoffs.
“There’s a word for what he’s doing, and it’s not very nice, actually.”
Annabeth is standing up now. She dusts her pants off.
“It’s a good thing you two aren’t my parents, then. I’m going. Goodnight.”
She storms off, leaving Percy and Grover to stare into the fire.
Grover gives him a few minutes of brooding.
”Do we think that was the best way to handle the situation?” he asks diplomatically.
“Probably not,” Percy scrubs a hand over his face. “But come on, you hate the guy too.”
“Maybe so,” Grover says. “But you may have just made it worse.”
Annabeth doesn’t say goodbye when she leaves. Percy hears the sound of her stomping around the house and then slamming the front door shut. When a car playing whiny country music peels down the road, he realizes Luke picked her up.
Grover says nothing. He hands him the PlayStation controller.
Percy intends to spend the entire night like that, slouched on the couch fighting off the discomfort in his stomach, except only a couple hours later, Annabeth calls him.
When he answers, she doesn’t speak for a long time. Her breathing is unsteady.
“Percy,” she says eventually. “I need you guys to come and get me. Please.”
He immediately sits up straight. Her voice sounds small, like she’s hiding somewhere and doesn’t want to be heard.
“What happened?” he asks, his heart picking up in pace as the worst case scenarios flood his mind.
“Nothing,” she says quickly, almost a whisper, “Nothing bad happened. I’m fine. I just—I feel weird. I don’t want to be here anymore.”
It’s all she needs to say. He’s already out the door.
The problem is neither Percy or Grover are old enough to drive yet, and Sally is working again.
So they take a taxi, using the Sally Jackson Emergency Fund.
The house is not far, but ten minutes under the midnight sky feels like eternity. Annabeth’s panicked voice keeps echoing in Percy’s brain.
When they reach the house, she’s waiting at the end of the driveway. Her arms wrap around herself protectively.
Percy gets out of the car, to take a closer look at her, but she doesn’t meet his eyes.
“I’m fine,” she says, sounding defeated. “Thank you for coming.”
She climbs into the backseat, sandwiched between the two of them. She smells distinctly like smoke. Tension radiates off the three of them as the cab driver drives agonizingly slow through every traffic light.
“What happened?” Grover eventually asks, breaking the ice.
She purses her lips, looking straight ahead.
“It… felt off. I get there, and I’m the youngest, and I thought it would be fine but it didn’t feel fine. The girls kept looking at me with this sad expression, like they pitied me. This guy offered me a joint, but when I say no, he blows the smoke in my face and Luke starts laughing.”
Her chin shakes.
“So I asked him to take me home. And he tells me I’m not being cool anymore, and he had a drink already, so he wasn’t going to do that, and I would have to stay. And I knew I had to get out of there.”
Finally, she turns her head slowly to Percy. Under the dim streetlights, he thinks her eyes might be glistening.
“If you want to say I told you so,” she says. “I’d really prefer you save it until tomorrow. I just didn’t know what else to do.”
Percy’s stomach twists. He wants to hold her. He wants to make the cab driver turn around so he can punch Luke in his perfect jaw. He wants to go back in time and punch himself.
He takes her hand instead.
“You did the right thing,” he says. “You can always call us.”
Present Day
Grover is downright militant in his mission to work through their summer bucket list. Every night is a marathon, between karaoke and food truck festivals and a 24 hour movie marathon (which Grover sleeps through).
All of this does little to disguise the elephant in the room: Percy and Annabeth cannot stop bickering.
It’s not the cute, charming banter that they grew up on. Their comments grow increasingly barbed.
Grover watches them from over his laptop, where he is always working on something and Percy wants to ask him, but he gets distracted because the tension in the house feels so suffocating that he retreats into the ocean for hours.
A week into the trip, Grover declares that they need to get out of the house.
“There’s a tour group running a scavenger hunt,” he says, holding up his phone. “It starts at the lighthouse and they have three spots left. No one knows this place better than we do. And there’s a hundred dollar prize.”
Percy remembers the first day Annabeth arrives, the quiet agreement to keep the peace.
“Okay,” they both say, at the same time, which is annoying and uncomfortable, but whatever.
They set off into the woods, where most of the scavenger hunt takes place. The idea is to use an old school map with symbols marked off to find the clues. Grover is clearly excited.
They split up at the mouth of the forest, Annabeth is tasked with locating a painted birdhouse and Percy has to solve a riddle at the trail map.
He figures out his clue pretty quickly, bouncing impatiently in the dirt. He’s about to head down the trail to find one of the others before he sees Annabeth limping towards him. There’s dirt on her cheek and a scrape on her knee that tore a hole into her pants.
His eyes grow wide.
“What happened to you?”
She shakes her head.
“Birdhouse was a couple branches too high, I took a tumble,” she holds up a slip of paper. “Got the next clue at least.”
“You’re hurt,” Percy says, watching her stretch her ankle out and wince. “You could have called me.”
The moment the words are out of his mouth he regrets it. She fixes him with a heavy, unimpressed look.
“Could I?”
Two Summers Ago
The years went on, hardships passed, things changed, but they never did.
This is comforting to Annabeth. Their friendship is an equilibrium, a delicate system that no outside forces, not time and distance and family could ever tear apart.
She held onto this throughout the year, when her bed to always be right became less charming and more difficult for people to withstand. That there were two people in the world who never found her too much, too annoying, too headstrong, meant everything to her.
It’s Annabeth, Grover and Percy versus the world. No one else needed, no one else could come between that.
Annabeth thinks about this equilibrium, and how easily it could be disrupted, as they make their way up a long, winding driveway that leads to a McMansion on the water.
Two days ago, Percy revealed he was invited to a party. By a friend he made while out for a swim.
“Her name is Rachel,” he said, and the tips of his ears are pink in a way that made Annabeth’s eyebrows furrow. “She’s cool, it’s whatever, but it could be fun.”
Grover and Annabeth exchanged a look with each other, as if knowing this could not be fun. But it was a testament to their friendship that they showed up anyway.
She’s trying not to be judgemental, really, as she inspects the luxury cars on the driveway and the tiny designer purses on every girl’s arm.
“You made it!” someone exclaims when they enter. A blur of red hair flashes past Annabeth and launches herself at Percy.
So this is Rachel—and okay, Annabeth can admit it, she’s strikingly pretty, with her freckles and her oversized linen shirt that hangs off her shoulders all effortlessly. But for whatever reason, Annabeth has to stare at the wall during this reunion.
When Rachel pulls away, she notices Grover and Annabeth flanked at his sides for the first time, and her smile tightens for just a second, so quickly that anyone else would have missed it.
“And you brought friends, hi new friends!” she says, “There’s food and stuff in the kitchen over that way.”
A wave of the hand.
“You, though,” Rachel’s gaze fixes back onto Percy, “Are coming this way, there’s a few people who want to meet you.”
At least, that’s what Annabeth thinks she says, because Rachel is yanking Percy into the next room, into a crowd of people.
Annabeth leans back against the wall, a bitter chuckle escaping without her permission.
“What’s so funny?” Grover asks, mirroring her position.
She watches Percy in the middle of this crowd, he smiles nervously. Something twists in her stomach. He seems in his element.
“I don’t think we were invited,” she says, and she can’t help it but she sounds bitter. Percy disappears into the throng of his new friends and she’s bitter that they were left behind.
“How do you feel about that?” Grover gestures to the other room.
Horrible, she wants to say. Like someone is squeezing my chest again and again.
She shrugs. “It’s fine. Percy can do whatever he wants.”
“Are you sure?” Grover pulls at the sleeves of his shirt, a nervous gesture. He always worried so much about their emotions.
Annabeth forces a small smile. “Definitely.”
Grover exhales, shoulders deflating.
“Okay, good,” he says. “I just—It’s probably good if we don’t have all those messy things getting between us, right?”
Annabeth thinks back to the equilibrium. She thinks of the churning in her stomach as that girl led Percy away, how strong the emotion felt. How much it could rock her.
“Right,” she echoes, her voice hollow.
She wants to say more, say something smart and reassuring, but the words don’t come. They don’t need to, because Percy bursts through the crowd of bodies towards them.
His eyes are wide.
“We gotta get out of here,” he says to them, grabbing their arms and heading to the door. “Like, right now.”
“What did you do?” Annabeth asks, alarmed.
”Nothing!” he winces. “I got the wrong idea. Can we just go?”
He’s silent as they walk down the front steps and the driveway, with all the luxury cars that don’t seem so intimidating anymore.
“Okay, but seriously, what happened, did you break something?” Grover eventually says, once they’ve made a safe distance from the house, and speaking doesn’t feel so taboo anymore.
Percy’s cheeks are still flushed.
“Well, I thought that Rachel wanted to be friends and she … Did not think so. And got pretty mad at me about it.”
Grover grimaces. Annabeth, meanwhile, finds her steps getting lighter, and she fights the urge to smile.
“Tough,” Grover responds.
“Whatever,” Percy slings his arms on both of their shoulders and pulls them in close. He’s warm and his face is closer than it's ever been. Annabeth thinks back to that word Grover used before—messy.
“I have the two best friends anyone could ask for,” Percy continues, “What else does a guy need?”
Balance restored, she thinks.
Present day
In the end, the air conditioning breaks and that’s what makes everything go to hell.
They have ambitions to go to the beach, but it’s thunderstorming all day. Grover suggests they do a deep clean of the cabin, but the air conditioning breaks and it’s so humid inside that it doesn’t take long before Percy and Annabeth are at each other’s throats again.
Grover doesn’t even know what started it this time, maybe Percy breathed too loud or Annabeth gave a look that was too pointed or whatever excuse they make.
He makes the grave error of suggesting that they call a repair man for the air conditioning.
“Can’t,” Percy wipes the sweat off his forehead. “We used up the emergency fund the other day when…”
When he didn’t close the refrigerator door all the way, and no one noticed and all the food went bad. Boy, Annabeth was pissed.
Kinda like she is now, glaring at him for the reminder.
“Who could have predicted that we’d need more in the emergency fund than fifty dollars?” she asks, arms crossed.
Percy’s eyes hit the ceiling. “Alright, you’re always correct, I’m always wrong. What’s your idea? You know how to fix AC’s now?”
“You know what, Percy—” Annabeth moves closer, and they’re at each other’s noses now, gearing up for an explosion—
Except they don’t get the chance, because now it’s Grover’s turn.
“Enough already!” he stomps forward, forcing himself between them. “Stop fighting. I’m sick of it. You have to stop because— because I won’t be here next year to mediate you two anymore!”
This makes them pause. Their attention shifts, the anger dissipates.
“Grover, what are you talking about?” Percy asks.
Grover sighs. Now he’s done it. He sits down and gestures for the two of them to do the same.
“I deferred my acceptance to Boston College,” he admits. “I got a fellowship to travel to South America with my parents. I leave as soon as this trip ends.”
“For how long?” Annabeth, this time.
He swallows hard.
“Eighteen months,” he admits. “I wanted to tell you guys, but I wanted us to have a good summer first, but that’s a little hard considering you two are at each other’s throats over every little thing. So—what gives?”
Annabeth and Percy glance at one another, and then in different directions. Percy stares at the ground, Annabeth to the spot on the wall where they once marked off their heights.
He huffs impatiently.
“Fine,” he says. “Well, since we’re getting things out in the open, I know for a fact there’s things the two of you haven’t told the other, but you told me. Who wants to start? Annabeth?”
Annabeth’s eyebrows crease. She looks at Percy, eyes wide with guilt.
“I was looking into some scholarships for schools on the west coast. I might have better opportunities in California. I might have an interview in November.”
Any remaining shred of anger leaves Percy like steam evaporating in the air.
“But… You always wanted to go to New York,” he says quietly.
“Things changed.”
“Percy, your turn.” Grover says. He’s being a little mean now, not giving them the emotional space to deal with this conversation, but they’ve been pretty mean all summer, so he feels like it’s warranted.
Percy’s eyes squeeze shut for a moment, like he’s been hit with a wave of nausea from this information overload.
“I went to England over the winter break,” he reveals. “My… father invited me.”
Annabeth’s mouth parts in surprise.
“Good,” Grover feels the momentum coursing through his veins, so he can’t stop now. “So that’s cleared up. Now, anything the two of you were keeping from me?”
Blue and brown eyes turn away again. They say nothing, taking a step back almost in sync.
The rain pelts against the window. Thunder rolls in the distance.
No one says anything.
One Summer Ago
Sometimes, you confess your feelings in the pouring rain, or in the midst of battle, or in the heat of an argument.
Sometimes, the realization comes more easily. Quietly, like it was waiting at the sidelines for the right moment to enter.
It goes like this: Percy and Annabeth are making breakfast in the kitchen. Grover and Percy’s mom stepped out for some cleaning supplies after an unfortunate vacuuming accident.
Percy can’t stop stealing glances at Annabeth out of the corner of his eye. Sun files through the open window, bathing the room in gold and making her—honest to god— glow.
Something is different between them this summer, he felt it when they arrived in Montauk the day before. They’ve always had a secret language between the two of them, but now it’s like they’re on another wavelength.
The build up has been happening all year, when Grover would exit their group calls early to work on his college applications, the two of them would linger for hours, talking about anything that crossed their minds, until his voice got slow and her eyelids went heavy.
It’s difficult to quantify this feeling, there is not a singular moment where Percy can look back on and say that things changed, he just knows that ever since the summer started, his heart has been racing with anticipation and he just knows she feels the same.
So here they are now, alone for the first time in a year, the air feels thick, his heart beats aggressively in his ear and he wonders if she can feel this too.
It goes like this: They’re standing shoulder to shoulder at the kitchen island, moving silently and yet in sync. Always in sync. They reach for the orange juice at the same time, fingers brushing before she pulls away. She bites the inside of her cheek to stop herself from smiling, and it’s this maddening action that makes him finally say:
“Alright, how long are we going to go on like this?”
His voice is low, even though it’s just them, because saying it any louder could chase the moment away.
She looks up at him, with those wide, disarming eyes that peered into his very mind all those years ago.
“Like what?” she asks, but she’s fighting the smile again.
“Would you like me to spell it out?” he asks, and they’re moving closer, somehow, chest brushing against chest, toes touching. “Should I hide a sticky note in your binder - ‘Do you like me, check yes or no’?”
She laughs for real now, an incredulous sound, like she can’t believe he just said that out loud. Fair, he can’t either, but they’ve come too far now.
“I would like that,” she says, and is it just him or is her voice deeper now too as they stand face to face, and is it just his head spinning or her— “That would make me very happy.”
“I’ll add it to the list,” he says absently, focusing more now on the knowing pout on her lips, how diligently he’s tried to ignore them before and how impossible that seems now.
A beat passes. If there were ever a time for either of them to step back, it would be now.
So he asks, reaching up to cradle her jaw—
“Is this okay, Annabeth?”
Her eyes flutter as his breath ghosts over her face. Have they ever been this close before? How did they ever stand to be so far apart?
Annabeth doesn’t answer. She reaches up on her toes, and her lips find his.
He smiles into the kiss, later he will ask if she did that so they could argue about who made the first move. For now he focuses on the feeling of her, of her soft skin under his touch, the scent of clementines in his nose, of their bodies pressed together after an excruciating day (let’s be honest, an excruciating set of years).
They pull away, only because now she’s smiling too and it’s just a little too much so maybe the air will be good. His hands linger on her face, they’ve made quite the nice home here and he has no desire to pull away just yet.
“God, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he whispers.
She raises her eyebrows.
“How long?” she asks, mischief in her eyes. Her hands—which at some point snaked at his waist, squeeze at his sides.
“Is everything a competition with you?” he grins, despite the sensation of their bodies pressed together makes him feel cross eyed.
“Obviously.”
“Too long,” he says simply. “Let’s just leave it at that. You?”
“About the same,” she admits. “A long them, then last year—“
She cuts herself off, her gaze goes unfocused as it often does when something crosses her mind. A crease appears in her eyebrows and Percy fights the urge to smooth it out.
“Hey,” he says gently, “Talk to me, where did you just go?”
She blinks back to focus.
“Is it a bad idea? Are we going to ruin a good thing?”
Her eyes are wide as she looks at him, pleading, in a rare moment of vulnerability. His self-assured girl, who doubts herself so little.
“Probably,” he admits. “We’ll argue about everything, drive the other crazy. But we do that anyway.”
She considers his words, chewing on the inside of her cheek.
“If we’re doing this,” her fingers curl and uncurl at his sides, a nervous gesture. “We need to keep this between us, just for a minute.”
Percy’s eyebrows furrow. His hands fall away from her.
”Why…?”
”I’m worried about how Grover would take it,” she admits. “Something he said last year, about messy things like this ruining our friendship. I don’t want him to worry.”
Percy hesitates.
“It’s just temporary?” he asks.
“Temporary,” she agrees. “We’ll tell him when the time’s right.”
Percy waited for this moment for years. He would do an embarrassing amount of things to preserve it.
“Okay,” he agrees. “When the time’s right.”
So begins their own adventure. Their secret language, the one they practiced all these years, turns to hidden smiles and stolen touch.
At dinner, her hand finds his under the table to tangle their fingers together. They bump shoulders over the dishes and find excuses to squeeze onto the old leather love seat during movie nights. When they’re feeling bold, they steal kisses while they’re swimming with Grover or running late night errands.
If anyone notices the change in their behavior, Percy would never know, because he has tunnel vision, Annabeth-vision, making up for the years where he compartmentalized every funny feeling he had around her.
The weeks fly by in this arrangement. It’s so exhilarating that Percy forgets that they’re living in secret, that they need to discuss the right time to tell Grover before the summer ends.
The summer flies by like this, before Percy knows it there's just a few days left.
He tries not to dwell on this that night, staring at the ceiling as the clock ticks past 1 AM, when his phone lights up.
‘Can’t sleep?’ Annabeth’s message says.
Percy sits up in his bed.
‘How did you know?’
The response never comes, because a minute later the doorknob to his room turns, agonizingly slow.
“I saw the light on,” she whispers as she creeps into his room. “Thought I’d take a chance.”
Percy’s heart pounds as he watches her inch closer to his bed. A purple, satin bandana wraps at her hairline, her old sweatpants hang low on her hips, and—
“That’s my shirt,” he squeaks out.
Annabeth tugs at the hem with a wry smile.
“Stole it from the laundry pile,” she says. “Is that okay?”
He swallows hard, his throat like a desert now. All he can do is nod.
She brings her fingers to her lips as she gently lowers herself onto the bed. His arm goes up automatically as she lays down, inviting her to lay her head on his shoulder.
They both sign in relief. Her hand rests on his chest, his other arm wraps at her waist. The weeks of sneaking around have been fun but the distance was agony.
It’s in moments like this that Percy can’t believe it’s real, that he could be so lucky, that she’s here in his arms.
“Well,” his voice is thick, “To what do I owe the visit?”
“This is strictly a business trip,” she answers. Her fingers curl into his shirt. “So don’t let me fall asleep.”
“Alright, then what’s on the agenda?” Percy’s hands begin to wander on their own accord. He starts to draw patterns along her back and takes great pleasure when her eyes flutter shut for a moment.
“Communal birthday,” she says, now her voice is hoarse. “In two days. We should tell Grover then. I think he’ll be okay.”
In three days they would go their separate ways again. His stomach twists at the thought, but the idea of finally coming clean is relieving.
“Deal,” he agrees. “Anything else on the docket?”
”No, I guess this meeting could have been an email. But where’s the fun in that?”
He feels her smile against his chest.
“You could stay for a bit, y’know, to make your trip worth it.” His lips brush against her forehead.
“Five more minutes,” she agrees. She cranes her neck up, her mouth finds his.
What is that they say about best laid plans?
Percy doesn’t remember, but the next day everything goes to shit.
The three of them are spending the morning at a used book store that Annabeth loves. She picks up a book or two every year for her journey home.
Percy and Grover spin a rack of postcards again and again until they feel dizzy. Their original task had been to find the right one for Grover’s parents but they got distracted.
Only the sound of a familiar laugh makes them pause their action.
“Is that Annabeth?” Grover asks, and Percy’s eyebrows furrow.
They creep down the aisles of the shop until they find her. They angle their bodies behind the wall of shelves, sticking their heads out just enough to watch.
She’s holding a book up to one of the employees as they are caught in an animated discussion. The laugh was definitely hers, as she’s still smiling.
Percy doesn’t really consider himself the jealous type, but he can’t help but take notice of this guy’s impressive height, the round glasses that hang off his face and his floppy, dark hair. And he really can’t help but hate him over it.
The guy gestures to Annabeth’s phone in her other hand and asks her something that Percy can’t quite hear, but he has an idea.
“No, thank you though,” he hears her say, and she walks down the aisle in her confident walk that has always appealed to Percy.
Their hiding place was worse than they thought, because she locks eyes with them immediately.
“Are you two having fun?” she asks when she reaches them. They have the decency to look sheepish about it.
“Did that guy ask for your number?” Grover asks instead. “And did you say no?”
Annabeth rolls her eyes.
“Yeah. All I wanted was for help reaching a high shelf.”
Percy watches them go back and forth discussing the situation, torn between wanting to jump into the ocean and to find that guy and shake him. He may or may not zone out.
“I don’t know. I just thought he would be your type,” Grover says. “So I’m just surprised.”
“My type?” Annabeth asks.
“You know, smart, nerdy,” Grover pushes. “Percy?”
Percy blinks hard.
“What?”
Grover looks at him with an incomprehensible expression of seriousness.
“Never mind,” he says. “Should we get going?”
He leads the trio out of the store.
Annabeth catches Percy’s eye and gives him a wink, and magically, the turning in his stomach goes away.
As they make their way down the sidewalk, Percy feels his phone chirp with the arrival of an email. The name of the sender makes his stomach drop.
The subject line reads, To my son.
Annabeth finds the house surprisingly quiet that afternoon. Grover has a scheduled video call with his parents, so he sits on the porch, but Percy is nowhere to be found.
Eventually she finds him in his room. His duffle bag is open on the bed and he’s folding clothes and throwing them into it.
“Hey, I was looking all over for you,” she says. “Are you… Packing?”
“Yeah,” Percy doesn’t meet her eyes. “Thought I’d get a head start.”
“We still have two days left. I’ve never seen you pack early.”
His jaw clenches.
“I can do things on time, you know,” he says. “I’m not a complete reprobate.”
She mouths the word reprobate back to herself, a verbiage that seems very un-Percy, but he’s acting pretty un-Percy right now.
“Okay,” she says patiently, although her jaw feels tight. “I just wanted to check in, we need supplies for the communal birthday cake. Do you want to head to the store with me?”
“I have some stuff to get done,” he turns away now, his back facing her.
She bristles at this, now her own annoyance is starting to rise.
“What’s going on here, did something happen?” She thought he was acting strange since they left the bookshop, but hadn’t wanted to push until now.
“Nothing,” he doesn’t turn around. “Just— I don’t know. Do you think this is a good idea?”
It feels like being doused in ice water. Annabeth crosses her arms, feeling anxiety ratchet up in her body.
“Is what a good idea?”
Percy waves his hand around.
“This,” he says. “All of it. We tell Grover tomorrow and you have to go back to Virginia and I’m in New York, and then what?”
Annabeth feels cold, suddenly.
“We can talk about that,” she says diplomatically. “We can make a plan, and-and see each other—“
“I’m just not convinced this is the smart thing,” Percy says. “You know? Can we really make this work?”
It’s so easy for him to say it, that it cuts right through her.
“I thought we could,” she says hollowly. “I guess I was wrong.”
She waits for him to turn around, to reassure her that this is all some sick joke. He doesn’t.
They do the communal birthday. It’s Grover’s year to pick the flavour so they enjoy red velvet. Annabeth and Percy wear matching, frozen smiles until the clock winds down on their time together.
Annabeth boards a coach bus feeling like a piece of her has been carved out.
She doesn’t hear from Percy for the rest of the year.
Present day
The house is silent, save for the rain outside that finally begins to taper off. No one moves from their spots in the living room, so they let the darkness fall over them as the hours pass. Grover’s outburst hangs in the air.
Percy looks at Annabeth. She nods once.
“Grover,” he starts, sitting up. “Last year, Annabeth and I… We had a thing. And it ended badly.”
Grover sighs, wiping at his eyes.
“I knew.”
This makes Percy flinch.
“What?”
“Come on, guys. You two were acting differently all summer long. You were happier. Then one day, you weren’t.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Annabeth asks.
“Why didn’t either of you?” he retorts. “My feelings were hurt. I wished either of you came to me.”
She averts her eyes now. Ashamed.
“We were worried about messing with the balance,” she says. “I remembered what you said, all those years ago, I didn’t want to worry you.”
“I was wrong,” Grover throws his hands up. “I can be wrong, sometimes. And even if I didn’t like it, that’s none of my business, is it?
On some level I’ve always known this would happen between you two. And maybe when I was younger, it scared me, but now? You two are my best friends in the world. Why wouldn’t I want you to be happy?”
Percy feels terrible now, like the crap that sticks between your toes in the ocean. He’s worse than ocean crap. He’s a bad friend.
“Look,” Grover continues. “I had some hurt feelings but I’m fine, and we’ll be fine, but you two really need to talk. And talk properly. I’m going to get some rest.”
He gets up then, flipping the light switch on as he does. Percy squints at the sudden change of light. When he looks at Annabeth he sees the tears that swim in her eyes.
They say nothing for a few moments, reeling from the emotional outbursts.
“England?” she asks eventually.
“Yeah. England.” Percy sighs heavily. “I heard from him at the end of last summer, and he sent me this long email about how he heard I’m a failure in all these ways, and offered to buy my way into an Ivy League next year so that I don’t end up like a reprobate. His words.”
Annabeth frowns.
“Why did you go?”
“No idea,” Percy admits. “I talked about it a lot with my mom. I changed my mind a few times, I wanted to tell him to screw off but then I wanted to see him in person, so I could do that with maximum impact.
I get there and… I have a half-brother, Annabeth. His name is Tyson, and he’s just this kid who is struggling with learning, and social interactions, and school, and life, and what does my dad do but ship him off to boarding school every year?”
Percy’s jaw clenches at the memory, so tight that his temple aches.
“I really love that kid. I hated that he didn't have the support that I had. So I stuck it out for him, and now I guess my dad’s in my life. I don’t know.”
The weight in his chest, the one that was sitting there for nearly twelve months, finally eases up.
“The worst part, the actual very worst part was how often I wanted to pick up the phone and call you. But I had screwed up too much.”
“Is that why…” Annabeth’s frown deepens, she must be remembering their abrupt end last year. Guilt twists at his gut.
“Yeah,” Percy sighs. “I had just read that email before you came into the room and I was feeling angry, and sorry for myself, so I screwed it up.”
“You should have said something. I wish you had just told me this was going on.”
“Yeah,” Percy agrees, swallowing hard. “We weren’t so good at that part. I wasn’t so good at that part. Did I…?”
Did I screw it up beyond repair, did I lose you for good, did I ruin all of our plans?
He thinks of what Grover made her admit, about the colleges as far away from him as possible.
“I don’t know,” now Annabeth is sighing heavily. She pulls her braids over to one shoulder, weaving them together as she speaks. “I don’t want to go that far. But we had talked about New York since we were kids, and with how things ended…”
“I screwed up,” Percy says simply. “And I really hope that doesn’t change your plans. Even without me, I just think you would be happy at NYU. You would fit right in.”
She chews on her lip.
“I wanted to call you, too,” she laughs softly. “In fact, I kept a note on my phone, with a running list of what I wanted to say.”
“No way,” Percy stands up. “Wait right here.”
He disappears into his room for a moment and finds the old shoebox. He knew packing this would be a good idea.
“Open it,” he says when he returns, handing the box to Annabeth, “I think I had the same idea.”
She does and dozens of folded up pieces of paper spring free. She starts to read them one by one and Percy imagines which one she’s picked up, the letter when he cried at his father’s estate or the one directly after their breakup last year. He wrote so many letters that he lost track.
Finally, she finds one that makes her smile.
“Hm,” she hums. “Your handwriting’s not so good, here, could you read that one out to me?”
Percy leans over and his cheeks turn hot, she found a letter where he was particularly fixated on how much he missed her and wrote at least a paragraph about how beautiful she is.
“You can read that just fine,” he mumbles, rolling his eyes.
She points to the last line. “Just read this one out for me?”
It’s the lightest he’s seen her in months, and even though he’s entirely pink in embarrassment he does.
“The worst part is,” he reads with a shaky voice, “That I miss you even more the longer that time goes on. I wish I could see you, and that I could tell you I’ve been in love with you since we were kids, since the first time we raced down the beach and you knew I would beat you so you tackled me. I loved you then and I love you now, even though I’m not sure if you’ll ever talk to me again.”
She’s moved closer to his side as he reads, leaning over to follow the letter as if she can’t believe the words are real either.
“So, you know, casual stuff,” he jokes, folding the letter and throwing it back into the shoe box.
Annabeth reaches for her phone and scrolls through a list.
“Here,” she says, handing it to him. “It’s only fair.”
The document is titled “Things I want to tell Percy if his head wasn’t so up his ass”.
The list is numbered, which is very Annabeth. He finds the confession tucked neatly at number 58, in between “he’s an idiot” and “Bubblegum ice cream is the worst flavour”.
58. That I love him, and if he called me right now I would answer.
Percy takes a deep breath before he puts the phone down.
“It seems unfair that you made me read mine out loud,” he remarks with a grin. “And I wrote that with my loving hands, and all.”
Annabeth rolls her eyes. They’re sitting knee to knee now, closer than they have allowed themselves to be since last year, before it all went to hell. There’s a heavier awareness to it now, what with the reveal of their all-consuming feelings and all.
“Annabeth…”
“We still don’t have it figured out,” she whispers when his hands find hers.
“When have we ever?” he whispers. “All I know is that I missed my best friend a lot, and I’ve learned in the last year that life sucks a lot more without you in it.”
Her fingers tighten around his. There’s still some apprehension there.
“I really am sorry,” he says softly. “All that wasted time. All that pain.”
“I know,” she says. “I know.”
The distance has been unbearable for eleven months and twenty nine days. It was unbearable across state lines and oceans and while in the same house. There’s so much left to say but for now they have to remedy this distance.
She leans in first, always first, and captures her lips in his. His mouth parts in relief and he grabs at her sides, pulling her closer to him. They lean back on the couch, their bodies pressing together until there’s not an inch of space between them, until it’s suffocating and wonderful.
When they pull apart to catch their breath, Percy can’t help the smile on his face.
“I think you’re forgetting something,” he teases, his thumb brushes against her cheek, where he’s relieved to see she is smiling too.
“Right,” she feigns a sigh, “I love you too, et cetera.”
Her hand covers his.
“Should we tell Grover it’s safe to come out now?”
Denouement
It’s Annabeth’s year to pick the communal birthday flavour. She chooses a tuxedo cake, and Percy decorates it with an absurd amount of frosting.
This year their shared birthday party has a sign, which reads Bon Voyage in the colours of the Brazil flag.
Grover’s going to go on his trip, and they’ll miss out on their vacation next year. They’ve made peace with that now, that things will change but the foundation of them never will.
Annabeth says she’ll be sending out calendar invites for weekly video calls no matter what, and beyond that they aren’t sure when the three of them will be in the same room again— and that’s okay, because who has it all figured out at eighteen anyway?
Percy’s arm circles her waist as her knife glides into the cake. He’s made a dozen plans for the two of them, including getting his driver’s license (despite once proclaiming that a true New Yorker should never drive).
She leans over to blow the nautical star candle out. The knot in her stomach at the beginning of the summer disappeared. She has nothing more to wish for.