A/N:

holy CRAP guys THIS IS FINISHED

i'm so happy because this is done! and it's here! and i'm so pleased about it! to put things in perspective i started this in july (jULY) and now it's february so that's seven months. AND according to my microsoft words stats i've spent over 300 hours on it, so i mean, that's a lot of hours.

ANYWAY

as you can see, no, i have not marked this complete, despite the fact that it's pushing around like 38k words. that's because there's a part 2 roughly the same length that i will be posting on sunday so #staytuned woo

also! one more thing! this story as actually asked for by a lovely guest called allineedisabook (if you're reading this and don't have a clue what i'm on about you left a comment on i believe long live very politely requesting a soulmate!au? so here i am [several months too late psshhsh whatever]) so i any of you have any requests for stories or whatever please feel free to just ask. they may take a great deal of months because i may get overexcited and well this may happen but im a tad low on inspiration at the moment so woo go wild

i want to say a big thanks to ma baes helena and rachel for being like my cheerleaders on this. i told you guys about it like back in december and you've been very patient so thank you for being lovely both of you (love u guys) and also to everyone who's like ever commented on anything! because they gave me lots of motivation to get this beast finished for you guys.

anyway i've rambled on enough (then again the entire thing is about 70k words i deserve to ramble smuch as i please) so without ado here it is! title is from fearless by taylor swift, and i really hope you enjoy!

in a storm in my best dress (fearless)

marks

yellow – friends

blue – family

red – soulmate

purple – social media followers

grey – strangers

Percy knows all about the soulmate system.

Who doesn't? It's all anyone ever talks about. Soulmate this, soulmate that. You'll meet your soulmate eventually! They're talked about in books, in movies, in the TV shows Sally watches after she thinks Percy has gone to sleep where everyone falls in love with a person who is not their soulmate. It's risqué and scandalous but it makes for good television and admittedly Percy always gets extremely wrapped up in the plotlines from where he's crouched behind the couch where Sally can't see him.

Point is, Percy knows the soulmate system. Maybe too well.

(That's debatable. Whatever.)

And frankly? He's a little sick of it.

Not for any reason like the reasons in Sally's TV shows. He doesn't have the nerve to be that scandalous, and actually the idea of one day finding someone who'll supposedly be his perfect match is kind of appealing. The real reason why he's fed up is because, rather unfortunately, he's not exactly what you would call a social butterfly. Quite the opposite, actually. Some would even call him unlikeable.

'Some' being Nico. But he's always been a negative little nugget so Percy decides to ignore him on this one.

("I mean, I'm not wrong," Nico remarks petulantly.

"Don't be rude, Nico," Piper chides. "You'll hurt his feelings."

Percy sulks.)

This wouldn't necessarily be a big deal, because who cares if you get a little shrewish now and then, but in a world where everyone you ever meet is reflected on your skin and Percy is best friends with Jason Grace it matters. Everyone has Marks, especially Jason Grace, because Jason Grace is as pretty on the inside as he is the outside and he's the kind of person who helps old ladies across the street and offers to show around new students, and when you're pitted against Jason Grace for something like the amount of Marks you have you're going to lose no matter who you are, because how could you ever compete against Jason Grace.

Especially if you're Percy. Because in a world where everyone has hundreds and thousands of Marks he only has six.

Percy thinks that the one thing he really hates about the Marks is how confrontational they are. Like, sure. He's not very good at making friends. Sometimes he can't get out of bed in the morning. When he was fifteen there was a two-week period where he couldn't even leave the house. That's all stuff that happens, and it's chill, because he knows that it happens. However, other people don't. They don't need to. He doesn't need to, sometimes. When he's having a good night, surrounded by the people he loves, he doesn't have to think, "yo, am I glad that my crappy mental health isn't here to say hello", and that's a great thing because it's awesome not to be depressing 24/7.

The Marks kind of all change that, you know?

If it weren't for the Marks, he could pretend that his anxiety wasn't a thing and that it wasn't a massive block to making friends. That's the only part that's irritated him. It's called the soulmate system. Soulmate. Not the friendship system. There's really no reason for Marks to appear whenever you make a friend, honestly.

That's quite ridiculous.

The friendship Marks appear as yellow. Percy's got five of those. One for Jason. One for Grover. One for Nico, for Thalia, for Piper, and one for his mom, but that one's blue because she's family.

And honestly, he's fine with that. He likes having a selected, small group of people he can confidently say he loves. The problem only arises when Marks start appearing for people you talked to once on the train, the shopkeeper you sometimes say hello to, the people you accidentally trip over and apologise to and then walk away from and forget. Those ones are grey, because they're irrelevant, and they fade after a year, but they're still there, and it means that you're nice enough to smile back at little kids on the buses when they smile at you and nod to the bus driver and make small talk with the lollipop lady.

And Percy hates it.

People like Jason have marks all over their body. Jason must have over three thousand. Even Nico has more than Percy does, and a few years ago Nico once managed to stay indoors for over one hundred hours without so much as stepping outside. Everyone in school has them, all over their arms and legs and backs and stomachs. Lots are purple – social media followers – but it still counts, and while everyone is used to Percy being the black sheep, or so to speak, of the entire school, he still gets odd looks.

It doesn't bother him as much as it used to. He takes slight comfort in the fact that most of their Marks are purple or grey, and that they have nowhere near the amount of yellow Marks as they do social media followers (an interesting fact he's recently learnt was that bought social media followers also appear, and because he's not so fixated on his own Marks – or, you know, lack thereof – he always finds it rather funny whenever someone bounces into school with a whole new sleeve of purple Marks that have seemingly just appeared overnight) but he would be lying if it didn't sting a little.

Anyway.

Soulmates. They're a thing.

Your soulmate Mark always appears above your wrist. There's a space for it. Percy used to cover it with bracelets, back when everyone else did, but after he realised that not being able to talk in front of people without choking wasn't really that normal and that that little setback was the reason everyone else had little grey lines everywhere and he, well, didn't, he didn't anymore.

Oh well. It could be worse. His only Marks could be on his back or something. At least when people look at him they can see the six little lines on his arm and go, okay, so he's a freak, but not as much as a freak as he would be if he didn't have any Marks at all.

The universe kind of blessed him with that one. Whenever he feels like falling to pieces all he has to do is look at his arm and not focus on all the plain skin but instead focus on the Marks, and remember that sometimes the world can do you favours every once in a while.

Also, it's not as embarrassing. His Mark on Jason is on his lower back. Like. His lower, lower back.

("It's a tramp stamp!" Jason yells gleefully when they find out.

"No it's not," Percy says.

"Yes it is," Thalia tells him. "Look at it, how can it not be a tramp stamp.")

All in all, in a world where everyone is freckled with hundreds, thousands, sometimes even millions, of Marks and Percy only has six, he's always one to stick out like a sore thumb. Sometimes he'll draw Marks on his arms whenever he goes out to the shops and cover everything else with baggy clothes just so he won't get stared at. (It's a little like an awkward feedback loop in which his anxiety is the antagonist in a long robe turning the gears, but whatever. He doesn't think about that analogy too much.)

Point is, he's not used to being swamped in friends.

So you can bloody well imagine his shock when he wakes up one morning and looks impulsively at his arm and there's one, two, three, four, five, six, seven Marks on his line and holy crap the seventh is red.

Let's take it back a couple of months.

It's school. Average, sucky. Kind of dull. Percy has never been a massive fan of school, and not even because of the whole anxiety thing (although that's a big thing). He just– isn't very good at it. And it's all entirely his fault because he dozes in class and doesn't listen to anything, but when you aren't succeeding at something and you're forced to do it for seven hours a day five days a week– well, it gets a little suffocating.

"So," Mrs Peters continues, although Percy's not necessarily sure from what because he hasn't listened to anything she's been saying. "I'm going to pair you up and in your pairs organise a presentation on your thoughts on the topic we have just been discussing. The minimum amount of slides is ten. Thomas is handing out the rubric so you are clear on what you're meant to be doing and I'm putting the success criteria on the board. Are we clear?"

Everyone mumbles a vague 'yes'. Across the room Clovis Pallow lets out a snore.

"Good," Mrs Peters says. "Now, partners." She picks up a piece of paper and clears her throat. "Drew, Lacey."

Drew Tanaka pulls a face and her posse of well-dressed friends in matching expensive jeans snigger. Lacey Williams slides down in her seat.

"Jason, Percy."

Jason turns around and gives Percy a big thumbs-up. Percy grins back, so relieved his heart hammers in his chest. He's not quite sure on the teachers' stance on his anxiety – he's pretty sure his mom came in after he'd been diagnosed to have a word with the head about it, and something must have worked because Percy has never been paired with or put in a class that doesn't have at least one of friends in it. Still, every time a teacher announces groups his head begins to swell with nerves. Last year Amanda Lloyd committed suicide and none of the teachers so much as batted an eyelid. He's pretty sure all the times he's been assigned with a friend it's been pure coincidence.

At least, he hopes not. One day coincidence is going to end and he doubts he'll be able to even look at someone he doesn't know without bursting into tears.

He's so deep in his thoughts he almost misses the next pair.

"Annabeth, Piper."

Across the room, Annabeth Chase straightens with a smirk on her glossy lips. She looks over her shoulder back at him and Piper, arching a perfect eyebrow. It's a silent invitation. Percy has been on the sidelines for long enough to know how they play their games.

Piper lifts her chin defiantly and stares at her straight in the eyes. They hold it for a few moments before Annabeth smirks and turns back around.

As soon as she's not looking, Piper drops her head in her hands with a groan. "Every time," she mumbles. "Why her? Why not anyone else?"

"Maybe they see you have good chemistry," Percy suggests.

"I think they're mistaking chemistry for the urge to put my hands around her neck."

"You flatter me, McLean," Annabeth says without turning around.

"Good."

Percy has never really been sure of the bad blood between Piper and Annabeth Chase, how it started or why it's still going. He thinks it started long before he and Piper even became friends (which is a very long time). All he does know is that for some reason they both despise each other with a burning rage and they're dangerously nonchalant about it all.

Percy knows feuds. Normally they play out with fights, or screaming matches, or big canteen confrontations. Not with Piper and Annabeth Chase. They stay calm and cool. They've never gotten physical. Percy's not even sure they've touched before. But they both have brains like machines and whatever is bubbling between them is far more than just a childish teenage argument.

"You'll be fine," Percy says. "You know she won't hurt you."

"Not intentionally. If I stand too close I may die from inhaling all the bleach she scrubs herself with every morning."

"You should try it too," Annabeth tells her. She turns around again, grey eyes glittering innocently. "Maybe it'll wash the dirty colour of your skin away."

Piper doesn't move but her hand tightens around her pencil.

"Hey, now," Jason interrupts, turning around too. He gives Annabeth a look. "Come on, Annabeth, that was too far."

Both the girls ignore him. Percy knows better than to step in.

"What a surprise," Piper says coolly. "Looks like all that bleach reached your heart."

"Kitty's got claws."

Piper smiles, a cold kind of smirk that Percy doesn't like. "Figures," she says, as if Annabeth hadn't spoken. "It would explain a lot. Isn't that right, Bethie?"

Annabeth's eye twitches. There's something Percy's missing, because Piper has said much worse that has left her seemingly unbothered, but whatever the underlying message is it bites enough to stop Annabeth in her traces. She gives Piper one final, calculating look, and then turns back around in her seat.

Piper beams, now suddenly very pleased with herself. That part has always unsettled Percy, the way she can so fluidly switch between two people. Around her friends she's silly and stupid and laughs too much at her own jokes but around Annabeth it's like a cold, dictatorial fist has closed around her soul, and seeing the transition hurts Percy's head and also his heart a little. "Well," she says pleasantly. "That wasn't hard."

"We could get her in so much trouble for that," Jason says firmly. The racism is still bothering him.

"Don't worry about it, Jase," Piper says. "It's all harmless fun."

"Harmless–?"

"It's best just to leave it, man," Percy tells him quietly. "No one understands anything about it except them."

"But– that was across the line!"

"Jason," Piper says, and Jason falls quiet.

"I just don't understand," he says.

Piper reassuringly rubs her hand between his shoulder blades. "It's all right," she says. "You don't have to. I'm a big girl, I can handle some forth-grade taunts."

Across the room, Percy sees Annabeth sit up straight. He doesn't know much about her, aside from the fact that she appears to have no soul, but one thing he does know is that her pride is one of her biggest flaws. It's fitting, he reckons. A queen never likes having her reputation threatened.

"Anyway," Piper says, picking up her pencil. "Percy, we still on for tomorrow?"

Percy nods.

"Good."

"You guys hanging out?" Jason asks.

"You want to join?" Percy offers.

"S'alright, I've got football practice 'til late." He picks up his pen and starts tap-tap-tapping it against his notebook. It's not a regular beat and Percy's eye twitches. "Where you guys planning on heading? I swear you finished your allowance for this month, Piper."

"I did. I took some fifties from Dad's wallet. He won't notice."

Jason shakes his head. He's fond. He tries to hide it but Percy sees the sparkle in his eyes. "You're gonna get caught one day."

"I know," Piper says. "That's what makes it so fun. Besides, we're not going out, anyway. I've got a Bio test coming up and Percy's helping me revise."

Percy smiles a little. Science, Biology especially, is the one thing he's good at. He doesn't know why he likes it so much, or why he's so good at it, but he's top of the class and even though he doesn't like bragging and that time Mrs Dyers had proudly announced to the class he had scored the highest on their baseline test he had been absolutely mortified it always makes him glow a little with pride whenever one of his friends brings it up.

He supposes he has Mrs Dyers to thank, though. It's how Piper first noticed him, and with Piper came her boyfriend Jason and his sister Thalia, and through a lot of gentle introduction he had found himself three new friends. He also remembers how Annabeth Chase's fist had tightened around her pencil so hard it snapped in half when Mrs Dyers announced the test scores.

It was the first time anyone had beat her in anything. She never said anything to him, not even a mean glance in the hallway, but the flash of her grey eyes had done something in Percy. He never forfeits his tests, but he always makes sure to be one mark shy of one hundred percent. It's not a hand up to the throne. It's giving her space so she can get there, and when he scores highest she can blame herself because there was space to be the best but she didn't take it.

Most of the time she does, though. He wonders if she knows.

"Class dismissed!" Mrs Peters calls.

Percy waits behind a little with Piper and Jason as they absently chat together and be all gross and romantic, but he keeps an eye on Annabeth. She packs everything away neatly, perfectly, and then exits the classroom with a regal air. She's admittedly very pretty, but she dresses like a nun. There is not a strip of skin on show except her face. She's even stretched the sleeves of her cardigan to cover her hands.

Frowning, he wonders why.

Annabeth sits by herself today.

It's a bit unusual, but she doesn't mind. In fact, she prefers sitting by herself. She's sure everyone's wondering why but no one dares to ask. They're all terrified of her. It's all quite hilarious, she thinks drily. Even her friends are scared of her – it's why they all rush around doing what she asks. They're not even her proper friends, but they don't know that.

No one knows that bit.

Annabeth has no plans to ever tell anyone, but she does like to play it dangerous. It's always fun to push up her sleeves to just under her wrists and watch all her friends squirm as they subtly try and catch a glance of their Mark. It's probably their highest achievement in life. I have a Mark on Annabeth Chase. My initials are on Annabeth Chase. I'm Annabeth Chase's friend.

Oh, how little they know. Whatever. They'll fade soon enough.

Annabeth smooths her long blonde hair behind her ears and pulls out a textbook. She's got a Biology test next period and she wants to do some last-minute revision so she can be the top. Which she always is. The only person who comes anywhere close to her is that loser Percy Jackson with the horrific stutter, and that was only once. She needs to be the best.

There's no fear in that, though. He thinks she's so dumb. Please. She knows his tricks. His mistakes are silly and foolish. He's afraid of her, afraid of what will happen if he beats her again. She's not stupid enough to actually do anything to him physically, because that will get her in trouble, and her whole thing is perfect student with the perfect record. It makes messing with McLean so much more fun. It's all about breaking them open, finding out what makes them tick.

Jackson is an open book. He's not just terrified of her, he's terrified of everyone, even creepy Finley Blake who sits at the back of English and shoves pencils up his own nose. She's seen what happens when you push him too far.

She smiles mirthlessly to herself as she flips the page. She reckons it could be a double combo, killing two birds with one stone. McLean is tricky, trickier than Jackson, trickier than anyone at Marino, because her clockwork has nothing to do with her.

But it has everything to do with her friends.

Annabeth licks her lips. All she has to do is fail the Biology. Because otherwise there'd be nothing to provoke her and as much as people believe otherwise Annabeth isn't a sadist. Besides, she'd been meaning to have a little fun with McLean for a while. The project isn't an appropriate time or place, because that's an Education thing and anything inside the classroom Annabeth has to be extra sly about. But outside on the playground is child's play. No pun intended.

Her peaceful thought process is interrupted when a voice cuts through the silence.

"Move up, Chase."

Speak of the Devil.

Annabeth takes a sip of her juice. She doesn't even turn around. "What do you want, McLean?"

Piper throws herself down in the seat next to her. She's got an annoyed look on her face, and her clothes look like she just walked out of a charity bin. She's wearing a shirt that looks like at some point it belonged to her dad and a jean jacket that has been ripped beyond fashionable. She blows a strand of her choppy fringe out of her hair and Annabeth inwardly rolls her eyes. "You don't have to sound so thrilled, gosh," she mutters.

Annabeth levels her with a look. "What, this doesn't look pleased to see you?"

"Shockingly, no."

"Shouldn't that be a subtle hint that I don't want you here then, freak?"

The insult doesn't cut as much as she wants it to. Piper seems thoroughly unbothered. "We need to work on that History presentation," she says. "You know, the one we were assigned partners on?"

"Oh, how could I ever forget?"

Piper rolls her eyes.

It's hardly news to anyone that they don't like each other. Piper is too much in all the wrong places and Annabeth apparently gets on her nerves, but luckily for Piper she hasn't even gotten started yet today. She watches her, head tilted. She wonders what buttons she can push today. Piper has a lot of marionette strings that are just too tempting to take a tug at.

Annabeth takes another sip and subtly slides her eyes to the table in front of her. Piper's boyfriend Jason Grace and his freakish sister are sitting there, as well as an assortment of other weirdos with questionable hairstyles. Such a shame, too. She and Jason Grace could have made a wonderful couple.

It's disappointing he went for a piece of hippie trailer trash instead.

But that's not what she's focusing on today. She's already made her feelings about Jason Grace quite clear. She looks at the sister, the emo, the nerd, and then– oh. Cherry red lips slip into a smirk.

Oh, she knows just who to target this time.

Maybe sinking the Biology test can wait.

She knows how string them along. That's one of her best tactics – the paranoia. It's what makes her so deadly. She seldom does anything directly against the rules, but she's never backed down on a promise, and the feeling of keeping someone on their toes for months on end is just too satisfying to ruin.

Piper is an open book. You can't get anything on her – even racism doesn't work, and trust me, Annabeth has toed that line as heavily as she can – so to get down and dirty Annabeth knows it's about what she can get on her friends.

Oh, this is going to be too much fun.

"Your Highness?"

Annabeth looks back at Piper. She's pulled out a notebook from her backpack and is giving her an expectant look.

"As much as I appreciate the name, your tone suggests that it's rather sarcastic."

"Yes, well, I'm glad your brain is big enough to comprehend that." Annabeth's eye twitches but Piper doesn't notice. "We need to get started."

Annabeth ignores her and instead leans over the table. She's so deceptively casual. She knows how to make the tenseness of her muscles seem lax. It's all in the posture. "I was actually thinking we do something else."

Piper gives her an unimpressed look. "Bite me."

"Don't be like that, Pipes. I wanted us to get a chance to actually know each other."

"Cute."

"I'm just being nice."

"Is that what you had in mind when you told Jason I had slept with the whole basketball team?"

Annabeth smiles innocently. "Well, the past is past, isn't it?"

Piper isn't fooled. She presses her lips together. "What are you playing at, Chase?"

Annabeth laces her manicured fingers under her chin and looks at Piper dead in the eyes. Oh, she how she loves watching them squirm. "Percy Jackson," she says coolly. "How's he?"

The change is instant. Piper's nostrils flare. "Don't you dare," she hisses.

Annabeth raises an eyebrow. "Sore spot?"

"You keep his name out of your mouth, Chase. He's a good person. Don't even think about trying to get to him."

"Now, where would you get that idea?"

"I know your games, Annabeth. Percy has done nothing to you."

"You can keep your hair on, freak," Annabeth tells her icily. "I do have standards, and luckily for you creepy little loner boys don't make the cut for me. You can keep your asocial twerp to yourself." She regains her composure. "I was just wondering."

Piper's mouth tightens. "Yes, well. Maybe you should stop."

"And why would I do that?"

Piper doesn't respond right away. She looks Annabeth right in the eye, keeping her stare casually level. That's the only thing Annabeth respects her for. No one else can hold her gaze for longer than a few moments without backing down. Piper McLean may be disgusting and have the worst hairstyle in the world but one thing she's not is a coward.

"I wonder," Piper says, her voice calm, "what everyone would think if golden girl Annabeth Chase rolled up her sleeves."

Annabeth's hand stills under the table. "I doubt anything unusual."

"Mm." Piper doesn't break her gaze. "If you want the world to remain in the dark about your Marks I'd suggest you back off."

McLean's playing dirty. Annabeth feels winded but she narrows her eyes. "And what, exactly, about my Marks?"

Piper's stare doesn't falter. "I don't know, Annabeth," she says coolly. "You tell me."

She knows.

Annabeth schools her expression but inside her head is silently imploding. Piper McLean knows. She wonders how, why, when. When was she so careless? She's been so good lately, how could she have messed up?

Piper seems to be able to read her mind. It's the only option because Annabeth's face is impassive. "Changing rooms," she says. "If you don't want the school to know that every relationship you've ever had is fake then I'd suggest you're a little more cautious about where you take your clothes off."

"You know nothing."

"That's true. But I also know that you don't have a single yellow Mark on your arm and trust me, Chase, I can be just as cruel as you."

Annabeth doesn't doubt that for a second.

She and Piper McLean are worlds apart. Annabeth is elegant and Piper is scuffed around the edges, and they clash because their colours contrast and while Annabeth's hair is braided neatly at the back of her head Piper's is wild and tangled. But when you strip it back, they're both two machines who aren't afraid to get their knees dirty, just for vastly different reasons.

"I don't care if you share," Annabeth says.

"You sure about that, Your Highness? Your pretty little court will disintegrate before your very eyes."

"You don't have that power."

"I wouldn't be so certain. Girls get catty when they realise that their leader has never had a genuine feeling towards them the entire time. I'm sure they won't take too kindly to finding out they've been used as stepping stones for the past year."

"As if you know anything."

"Don't I?"

They both stare at each other. Neither are willing to admit to defeat, to break the gaze first, but somewhere there's a wail in the back of Annabeth's mind because she knows that Piper has her backed against a wall.

Finally, she breaks. "Fine," she spits. "I'll leave your precious Percy Jackson alone."

"Good." Piper picks her notebook back up and tucks it under her armpit. "Well, since we wasted this whole lunchtime having a nice little chat, we'll have to do this elsewhere."

Annabeth smiles, pained. "Joy."

"You free tomorrow after school?"

"I may be."

"My house, then."

"Who ever said I wanted to go to your house, McLean?"

"Me," Piper says. She takes Annabeth's juice and closes her lips around the straw, taking a big sip and then nodding a little. "Orange. Nice."

Annabeth's nostrils flare. "I paid for that."

Piper takes another sip and winks at her. "I'll see you later, Chase."

Percy knows something's off the moment he arrives at the McLean residence.

Aphrodite opens the door when he knocks. She doesn't look any different to how she normally does. According to Piper all she does is float around the house all day wearing silk nightgowns and pearls, waiting for her next modelling gig (of which she gets lots, much to Piper's chagrin), and Percy honestly thinks she's right, because he doesn't think he's seen her in anything but expensive dresses. Today is no exception, except she's wearing a confused look as well, which– is not normal. Aphrodite has always been rather fond of Percy, giving him delicate pecks on each cheek so she doesn't smudge her makeup and squishing his face between her manicured hands and gushing about how handsome he is.

But she looks surprised, like Percy isn't meant there, and that's probably the worst feeling Percy could ever get.

"Oh!" she says. "Percy! What a pleasant surprise!"

He shuffles a little uncomfortably. He doesn't look her in the eye. He never has. That's why she's not a Mark. She never seems to mind. "Hi."

"Come in, come in!" Aphrodite ushers him indoors. "I'm not going to lie, Percy, my love, I wasn't expecting you today, but I'm so glad that you did turn up. God knows that other girl has my hackles up."

Other girl?

Percy's heart falls to the bottom of his shoes.

"Well, you're here now," Aphrodite says pleasantly, unaware of the pit opening up in his stomach. "Goodness knows you can be the one to teach that girl some manners. You're a charming boy, you should be able to do the trick." She floats over to the staircase and starts melodramatically making her way up. For the first time Percy sees her whole body and notices her shoulders and hair are littered in what looks like rose petals. "They're in the living room, by the way!"

She disappears into a room with a theatrical sweep of her arms. Percy is left standing in the hallway with his heartbeat somewhere in his bloodstream.

He doubts Piper would ever maliciously overrun their plans. She's not like that. It was probably an accident – he reckons one of the girls from cheerleading might have followed her in. That happens a lot. And even though most of them are perfectly nice he knows there are a few who are less than pleasant so maybe that's what Aphrodite was talking about.

He takes a deep breath and glares at himself in one of the seven mirrors hanging from the walls ("did you think I was kidding when I said Mom was vain?" Piper asked when he first came around and gawked at them). "Come on, Percy," he says firmly. "It's just a girl. You've talked to girls. Piper is a girl. Aphrodite is a girl. Just a girl. Just a girl."

Unsurprisingly, he doesn't feel any better.

He only feels worse when he tentatively pushes the living room door open and patters indoors. The two girls are sitting on the sofa, which is shaped like an L and snakes around the edge of the room like a serpent, and from where he's standing Percy can only see Piper's face. She looks up and as soon as her eyes fall on Percy she beams, which loosens the ball in Percy's chest a little, but it tightens almost immediately as soon as he looks at the other person.

"Oh," the other person says, very unimpressed. "You didn't tell me you were inviting the charity case."

Percy's heartbeat begins to pick up.

Sitting on Piper's sofa, wearing a grey dress and ballet flats with her hair flat ironed and hanging down to her elbows, is Annabeth Chase. She's got a calculating look in her eyes and she tilts her head to the side, tapping her pencil against her notebook. Percy doesn't like the way she's glancing at him. He's had his fair share of rude stares – confused, incredulous, disgusted, the usual – but he's never had anyone look at him like he's a machine ready to be decoded and he hates it.

Piper barely refrains from growling. "His name," she snaps, "is Percy."

"I don't care."

Percy doesn't feel welcome in this house. Normally Piper's mansion is like a second home to him but with an unleashed lion perched on the end of her sofa with one perfect eyebrow cocked he wants nothing more than to run and hide. He considers the pros and cons of sprinting back out the door.

"Well," Annabeth says finally. "I suppose you're here now. No use in sending you back."

Piper's nostrils flare. "You're in my house, Chase. I'd be careful."

"Of what? Your atrocious fashion sense or the mute?"

Percy finally finds his tongue. "I'm not mute."

"Could have fooled me." She leans back and crosses her legs. "What are you even doing here?"

"As a matter of fact," Piper says, "I invited him."

"Doesn't seem like very titillating company, if you ask me."

"I didn't."

A muscle in Annabeth's jaw ticks.

"I can leave," Percy says weakly.

"You do that."

"No," Piper says. "Please stay."

Percy is unsure.

"Ignore Annabeth," Piper tells him, like she's not there. "She's like a grumpy cat. If you don't respond for long enough she'll stop yowling."

Annabeth straightens. She's insulted, but she won't show it.

Instinctively, Percy's eyes flicks to her arms.

It's something he's picked up. He's learnt to read people – it's another part of his anxiety. If he gets a good enough grip on someone he knows who will play nice and who to avoid. But normally everything comes from the Marks, because they're the telltale floodgates to everyone.

Even him. His Marks say he's not good with friends and he only has six people he loves in this world.

But she's covered all the way up. She's wearing black tights and she's pulled the sleeves of her cardigan so they come to her knuckles, and her dress has a high neck that covers her collarbones.

Annabeth has always dressed rather conservatively.

For the first time, he wonders if it's because of her Marks.

She notices him staring. "Got a problem, freak?" she snaps.

"Don't call him that," Piper threatens.

Percy swallows. "Where are your Marks?"

Both Piper and Annabeth look a little surprised.

Annabeth is the first to respond. "Wouldn't you like to know."

"I'm not joking."

Annabeth pauses. "Why do you care?"

"Why do you always cover yourself up?"

"I don't."

"Then roll up your sleeve."

"How about you roll up yours first and then we'll start talking Marks."

She's poking at old scars. By this time it doesn't bother him. "How many Marks do you have, Annabeth Chase?"

"Someone's inquisitive."

"Answer the question."

"Nine hundred and eighty-seven."

Percy doesn't know if she's lying.

"Can I see them?"

"No."

Percy steels himself. "Nothing will shock me."

"I'm not lying."

"I never said you were."

Annabeth watches him for a very long time. "Kitty's got claws. Who knew."

Percy stares hard at the space below her eyebrow. It's become an instinct – don't look them in the eye. If he looks them in the eye they come up as a Mark, and even though his six Marks are the thing that sets him apart from the rest of the world and he would kill to stop sticking out as harshly as he does, getting a Mark stresses him out, because it's another person he has to try and keep in his life. And when they leave, for the next year until it fades it will be a reminder of someone he could have kept but didn't.

"I want to see your Marks," he says.

Piper is glancing between them. She knows something.

"Tough."

"You're hiding."

"You won't suss me out, Sherlock."

"You cover yourself head to toe every day and I'm a bit of an expert on crappy Marks, so I wouldn't bet on it."

Annabeth looks a bit surprised at his words. He doesn't blame her – he feels the same way. He didn't know he possessed fire.

Or maybe he doesn't. Annabeth is sharp as flint, and he's as black as coal.

It's clear Annabeth doesn't know how to respond. She turns awkwardly to Piper, who's still staring at Percy with a slightly impressed look on her face. Her eyes are glittering, and something kicks to life in Percy's chest. He's made her proud. "Do we really need him here, McLean?" she asks stiffly.

Piper's smirk grows. "Why, Chase? Feeling threatened?"

"He's distracting us from our project. That's why you invited me in the first place."

Figures, Percy thinks to himself. He doubts anyone would really want Annabeth around for anything other than schoolwork.

When Piper and Annabeth turn to face him in shock he realises with a flush of embarrassment that he spoke out loud.

Piper squeaks out a little laugh. It would ease Percy a little if Annabeth wasn't still staring at him with eyes of hurricanes. She doesn't look angry. Her face is unreadable, but her eyes are something else. That's where Percy's fire comes from, he realises. She's the flint and when he rubs her the wrong way the sparks catch him too. When she speaks her voice is cold. "You talk," she says, voice frosty, "like you're unaware people think of you the exact same way."

Old wounds. Annabeth Chase may be smart but she's unoriginal. "At least I don't have the likeability of a piece of lint."

"At least I'm able to actually talk to people."

"Right, haven't heard that one before."

Annabeth doesn't like knowing she's done something wrong. The skin around her eyes tightens. "You're not even meant to be here."

"Piper wants me here."

"I don't."

"Well, I don't care."

"I want you out."

"This is my house, Chase," Piper says mildly. "Play nice."

Annabeth's face pinches. She's stuck. Unbelievably Percy is holding his own, something even he is surprised about, so she can't keep going, and he knows she would rather shoot herself in the foot then walk away now.

It's funny, in a way. This is Annabeth's territory. Well, physically speaking, it's Piper's, but Percy is standing by himself in the middle of the room, more naked and exposed than he thinks he's ever let himself be, and Annabeth is on the sofa with another person. It's her ball game they're playing, not his, because Percy has never been one for confrontation, but she's losing, and for someone like Annabeth Chase that's not an option.

However, before any of them can make the next move, the door bursts open and Aphrodite floats in with a tray of tea. "Hello, my dears!" she chirps. She sails past Percy with a friendly smile and Percy catches a whiff of perfume so strong he almost splutters. "Sorry to interrupt, Piper, my love, but I have come bearing beverages." She puts the tray down on the table, completely oblivious to the tension in the room. She straightens up and smiles. "Now, who wants what?"

Piper sighs. "Mom."

"None of that, Piper. I made three different batches – chamomile, jasmine and herbal. You'll have to decide between yourself who gets what." Aphrodite claps her hands together. "How's the studying going, girls?"

Annabeth forces a smile. "Good."

"That's wonderful to hear," Aphrodite says, pleased. The sarcasm flies straight over her head. "Well, I'll leave you all to it, then. I just got a call from a modelling agency in Hawaii, so I must pack."

"You do that," Piper says.

Aphrodite beams at them and practically dances out the room. Percy is still half-stunned from her perfume to speak.

Piper reaches for the jasmine tea first, cradling the cup in her hands and leaning back in the sofa. Annabeth glances at Percy, as if waiting for him to move forward and take the next mug – so at least she has manners, that's nice – but choosing has always been one of the things Percy hates most. He just shrugs a little and curls his hand further around his stomach.

Annabeth watches him for a few moments, before reaching forward and taking the chamomile.

Chamomile has always been Percy's favourite. He hates herbal tea. But he doesn't say anything and instead tentatively reaches for the last mug and perches on the end of the sofa, sipping at it.

"So," Piper says after a few moments of peaceful tea-drinking. "Perce, what were you thinking of looking at today?"

Percy glances at Annabeth but she's pointedly staring down at the pile of open notebooks on the coffee table. "Uh," he says, "maybe we could start with atomic structure?"

"Grand," Piper says. She turns to Annabeth. "Annabeth, love, would you be a dear and finish up the report? I'll do the slideshow and send them to you to make up for it, but duty does call and the Biology test is tomorrow."

Annabeth nods and stiffly stands up, shouldering her bag. She's still got her shoes on and her bag is directly next to her. She's not comfortable here, either, Percy realises. For all her talk Annabeth Chase is still intimidated by unfamiliarity, and somehow the thought soothes Percy. While their unease massively differs, it's still somewhat comforting to know that the queen of the school can be just as easily daunted as he can.

Piper frowns as she watches her. "Wait, where are you going?"

Annabeth pauses. "Uh, home?"

"Why?"

"You're– studying?"

"Nonsense, you don't have to leave," Piper tells her. "Sit down."

"But– I'd just sit here and work."

"So? That's what we'd be doing anyway. Besides, we're having macaroni tonight. You don't want to miss macaroni, honestly."

Percy stares at her. What is she doing?

Annabeth almost seems to sense this and turns to glance at him, as if gauging his reaction, and he quickly looks down before she can meet his eyes. He sure as hell doesn't want Annabeth Chase to stay for dinner and he's not quite sure why Piper would either but he doesn't want his opinion to jade Annabeth's choice so he keeps quiet.

He'll ask Piper later. Like, what possible reason is there to invite your arch enemy to dinner?

Annabeth hesitates. It's the first time Percy has seen her anything but sure. "I wouldn't want to intrude," she says uncomfortably.

"It'd just be us," Piper says. "Mom'll be too busy voguing in the mirror upstairs for her fashion shoot."

That doesn't seem to make Annabeth feel any better. She fidgets with her bag strap, before it all seems to get too much and she rushes out, "I think I'm just gonna go home."

Piper is very undeterred. "Suit yourself," she says. She turns to Percy. "So, where should we start?"

Percy gets distracted for a second by her question. When he looks up again, Annabeth is gone.

Annabeth approaches Piper in the cafeteria.

She's standing in the lunch queue, waiting for her turn. It's more public here but it's better to get her here then when she's sitting down with her friends, because at that point all the people will be paying attention. Here there are more ears but no one will be bothering to listen in, too busy jostling and trying to subtly skip the queue.

When Annabeth slides in next to her, Piper looks a bit surprised. "Oh," she says. "Chase."

Annabeth nods stiffly at her. "McLean."

"What are you doing hanging around with us peasant scum?" They move forward. "I thought you had a kingdom to attend to."

She thinks she's so funny. Annabeth rolls her eyes. "It's about the project. We didn't get to finish it yesterday because you double-booked with the dweeb so we need to reschedule. Are there any dates you're free that don't involve any of your moronic friends?"

"I'd go doing a self-examination before you want to bring up my friends."

Annabeth sighs. "Will you just let go of that?"

"Not really, it's given me all sorts of fascinating leads on theories about you," Piper says. "Oh, don't look so panicked, I haven't told anyone. But the next time you want to insult my friends I just want to remember who's the one with friends in this equation."

"I'd rather have no friends than your motley crew."

"Well, luckily for you that's a reality," Piper tells her. "And to answer your previous question, I have next week Monday."

"Are you seriously doing something every night for the rest of the week?"

"It's called a social life, sweetie, you should try it sometime. Oh, wait." They move forward. "But if you're really that desperate to hang out before Monday I can give you my number, if you want."

"I wouldn't willingly touch you with a barge pole if I had the choice," Annabeth grumbles, handing over her phone.

"And yet here you are, standing next to me of your own accord," Piper says pleasantly. She types her number in, and then hands the phone back. "Have you finished the essay yet?"

"Yes."

"Can you send it to me tonight? I wanna proof-read it."

Annabeth's eye twitches. "It doesn't need to be proof-read."

"Fine, colleague-examined, whatever. We can't make a presentation as a team if I haven't the foggiest idea what you've written in the report."

Annabeth sighs. "Fine. Have you started on the PowerPoint?"

"Not yet. I was going to tonight."

"What about your 'social life'?"

"There's a talent called 'balancing the necessities'. Anyway, I'm going to Jason's tonight so I can do it there."

Piper must realise that bringing up Jason was a mistake because her face twists like she'd just tasted something foul. Annabeth takes the opportunity gladly. It's not often Piper slips up.

"Jason, huh?" she says. "What are you going to do there, then? Get frisky?"

"I can be around my boyfriend and not want to pounce on him twenty-four seven."

Annabeth tsks. "If I had Jason I would treat him the way he deserves to be treated."

"Good luck."

"Thanks." They move forward. "I also presume his freak show of a sister is going to be there, too?"

"You mean Thalia?"

"I don't care for names."

"Right, of course, Your Highness." Piper sobers almost immediately. "She's gonna be there. She can help me with the PowerPoint, actually."

"I'd rather she not. I don't need parasites dragging our grade down."

"The only parasite I see here is you, Chase."

"Creative."

"I'm not kidding." Piper turns to face her. The conversation has turned. "You think I don't notice you literally thrive off of destroying people?"

"That's a bit of a stretch."

"Not really. That whole stunt with Percy yesterday? For the first time someone was beating you at your own game and you were shrivelling. You're pathetic, Chase, honestly. I can only imagine how sad you really have to be for your only source of life being trying to bring people down."

Annabeth places her hand over her heart. "That hurts."

"Just you wait, Chase. Something's going to come bite you in the arse, and when it happens I will laugh."

"You're not any more innocent then I am, McLean. If karma's coming around for me it's sure as hell gonna take you too."

"Maybe so," Piper says. "But if it gets you to realise how appalling you are then I'm all in."

"This isn't a movie, McLean. Open your eyes. In real life the hero doesn't get justice."

"But more often than not the villain does," Piper says, and suddenly Annabeth feels like her throat is filled with cotton wool. The queue moves forward, and it takes Piper with it. Annabeth steps to the side and watches as Piper gets closer the front of the line. "Monday, after school, Chase. Don't forget."

"You are kidding, aren't you," Annabeth says.

Percy stares at her and then at Piper. "Piper!"

Piper is wearing an apologetic smile that looks much too mischievous to be genuine. "Whoops," she says. "Looks like I double-booked again. How unfortunate. Now you both have to stay and become friends, what a shame."

Annabeth sighs and brushes a strand of her straight hair out of her face. "I'm beginning to think you're doing this on purpose."

"Now where would you get that idea?" Piper asks innocently. She shifts to the side of the sofa and pats the space next to her – and next to Annabeth, Percy notes. "Come, sit, Percy. Annabeth, put away your pen. Now that Percy's here there's no use in sending him away, so we can just sit and chat."

Yeah, Piper's doing it on purpose.

Percy should have really known. She had been perfectly ordinary throughout the weekend, and on Sunday she had asked if he wanted to come around to hang out with her and Thalia. Conveniently, Thalia hadn't been at school on Monday for him to talk to about the whole matter, so he had suspected nothing of it and turned up to her house after a short trip back home to dump his bag.

And who's here. Annabeth Chase.

"McLean, we really need to get this project down," Annabeth says through gritted teeth. "If you keep inviting him we're not gonna get anything done."

"Oh, calm down, you stodge," Piper says. "Come, Percy, sit."

Percy glances at Annabeth, as if he's afraid she going to eat him. Which he is, to be honest. Annabeth Chase is a breed of girl he dreads coming across ever again. She's as complex as a puzzle and she keeps her Marks hidden – she's like a live bomb and when she explodes Percy really doesn't want to be in her detonation zone. However, on his other side is Piper, who's peaches and pretty eyes, so he tentatively lowers himself between them.

Just as he sits down, though, Annabeth rockets upwards like she's afraid touching him will give her a disease. "I need a drink," she says all in a rush, and then she dashes out the room.

Percy purses his lips, slightly hurt. He knows that Annabeth doesn't like him, because he's not really sure she likes anyone, but the blatant rejection still hurts.

Piper on the other hand, is quite unbothered. She adjusts her sweatshirt and beams down at the pile of notebooks on the table. "Well, that didn't take long," she says cheerfully.

Percy furrows his eyebrows. "What didn't take long?"

"Annabeth leaving," Piper says. "As soon as you came within a foot of her she bolted like you had an infection."

Percy frowns. "You don't have to rub it in."

"Oh, Percy," Piper says, and then she's putting her arm around him. "I didn't mean it like that at all. I just meant that the whole reason I invited you around here, apart from your dashing personality and the fact I like hanging out with you, of course, is to get Annabeth on her toes. She'd been getting on my last nerve recently and for some reason you're the person that irks her the most."

And yet she had offered for Annabeth to stay for dinner. Go figure.

Percy rolls her eyes. "I really doubt that."

"I'm dead serious," Piper insists. "That stunt you two pulled the last time you were here? That was electric. I have never seen her so floored. That's the first time she couldn't respond."

"I didn't even say anything that good."

"That's not the point. I think it's just the fact that it came from you."

Percy sits up straighter. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well. You're rather shy. Not even I would expect something like that to come from someone like you. That threw Annabeth off. I think she likes power, likes being right, see. And then she was so wrong about you, and that got to her."

Percy laughs. "What about you?"

"Oh, I'm plenty annoying," Piper says amiably. "But you – you unnerve her."

"That's stupid."

"Maybe. But she does something to you, too."

"No she doesn't."

"Percy, I have never ever seen you pull something like that with someone you don't know. Least of all Annabeth Chase!"

"I don't know where that came from, either," Percy admits. "I just– she's fascinating, isn't she?"

"She's infuriating, if that's what you mean."

"Well, that too, I suppose, but she is really interesting. Like, why does she cover her Marks?"

Piper tenses. It would be unnoticeable if she wasn't plastered to Percy's side. She knows the answer. "Maybe she's insecure," she says instead. Percy doesn't push. He understands secrets are secrets.

Before Percy can say anything else, Annabeth comes back in the room with a glass of water clutched tight in her hand. She looks over at Piper and Percy and their close proximity and says in an emotionless voice, "Your standards must be worse than I thought if you're already cheating on Jason with the freak."

Percy keeps quiet.

"Oh, Annabeth," Piper says, like she hadn't spoken. "Your presence is always so pleasant."

"I know." Annabeth sits down on the sofa, leaving a hefty space between herself and Percy. "I could hear you guys talking from the kitchen. What was it about? Sounded intense."

Her voice is that kind of monotone where Percy isn't sure if she cares or not.

Piper smiles at her, a little coldly. "We were talking about how much of a joy you were to hang around," she says. "You know. Just the way you, like, cover everything with frost and lifelessness is so endearing."

Annabeth boredly raises an eyebrow. "My heart warms at your kindness."

"I think I can hear it thawing from here," Piper says. "Would make sense. Always knew you couldn't do it by yourself."

Annabeth's grip on the glass tightens.

Something's changed between them. Percy's not sure what it is, but it's big, because he can feel the shift in their dynamic. He knows how these fights play out. Normally they're so intense because they're both on the same level and they both try to desperately one-up each other but they can't. Now they can – or rather, Piper can. She's gained an extra rung.

And by Annabeth's expression, that's not sitting well with her.

For the first time, Percy interjects.

"Come on, guys," he says softly. "Let's just do our work."

It's the wrong thing to say. Annabeth whirls on him, her eyes seething. She points at him furiously. "That's what I've been trying to do!" she hisses. "That's all I've ever been trying to do but you keep bloody showing up and ruining everything–"

Piper stands up, her tone low. "Annabeth–"

"No, listen to me. I am sick and tired of showing up here to do this stupid project and him being here every single time." She turns to him, eyes blazing. "What are even doing here? You're useless! You literally have no reason to be here except for the fact that you're a clingy overbearing baby who's too pathetic to look anyone directly in the eyes and you just want the validation of being wanted. Newsflash, idiot – you're not wanted. Piper doesn't want you here, I sure as hell don't, so how about you do us all a favour and piss the hell off!"

"Annabeth!" Piper shouts.

The damage has already been done. She's said everything.

Percy sits quietly on the sofa.

He feels like she has just struck him across the face with a red-hot whip.

The thing is, is that he knew all of it already, and that's maybe what hurts the worst. He's not sure how, or even why, but somehow she knew all his weak spots. Most people look at his six Marks and think that's what he's sensitive about, and sure, they're not wrong, but he's become so used to that being his Default Flaw that it doesn't bother him so much anymore. But Annabeth Chase is smarter than that, smarter than everyone, because she knows how to get someone to break.

Percy underestimated her. She shot a gun in the dark and hit the bullseye.

For most of Percy's life, one of his biggest fears has always been not being good enough. Not being good enough for friends, his family, the soulmate system. The Marks terrify him, not because they set him apart but because they remind him of how he can't keep hold of people well enough. A new Mark means a new person he has to try impress, try and not scare off.

And somehow Annabeth managed to know that. He feels like his entire body has been submerged in ice.

Shakily, he stands up. Piper's eyes flash.

"Percy–"

"No, it's okay," he says. His voice is surprisingly calm for how he feels. "You heard her."

Annabeth's face is emotionless. She juts her jaw and doesn't speak.

"I'll just leave," Percy says. "It's okay."

But it's not. He thinks he's going to cry and he hates the waver of his voice because he knows they both can hear it and dammit he's not going to let Annabeth take his pride away from him, too.

Piper takes a step towards him. "Ignore her, Percy, please–"

Percy swallows. "It's okay, Piper."

Piper's eye twitches. She whirls on Annabeth. Percy can't see her expression but he knows she's spitting fire. Annabeth doesn't even move. "Are you serious, Chase? Do you not have even a shred of humanity?"

Annabeth's voice is cool when she says, "He deserves it."

Percy takes a step backwards. She may as well have backhanded him across the face.

Piper turns around to him. Her eyes are wide and desperate but even now Percy can't look at her. She's one of his best friends and he loves her to the ends of the earth but this house doesn't feel safe anymore, because there's a venomous animal loose now and if he doesn't want to get bitten he's going to have to get out of its mouth. He takes a step backwards.

"I need to go," he says. "I need to go."

"Percy–"

"I need to go." He takes another step backwards, then another, and then he's backing out the room so fast he almost bumps into the person walking through the doorframe.

He whirls around. It's Aphrodite. She looks surprised.

"Where are you going?" she asks, concerned. She smiles at him but Percy's mind is going a hundred miles an hour and suddenly her smile has turned evil, like she's going to try and take a bite out of him, too, and all he can do is let out a low moan of despair and hightail it out of there.

He only feels the tears when he's out the gate. He thinks he may have been crying all along.

The lunch line is becoming Annabeth's safe haven now.

She spots Piper almost immediately from across the canteen. She's standing by herself, in the queue, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet, trying to see what food they're serving over the top of everyone's heads. She sticks out like a sore thumb with just her clothes. All of her friends do, actually. Annabeth should consider investing in an ugly thirty-year-old jean jacket for high-vis. But she hasn't just sought her out to make fun of her, although that would be highly entertaining, because she's pretty sure she's got a feather in her hair today and honestly these jokes just write themselves.

As much as it physically pains her, she needs to set things straight.

Yesterday was– confusing. It's not the first time Annabeth has made someone cry, and probably not the last, either. People are very touchy. All it takes is a few words. But there's just something about Jackson, about the way he bolted, about the look of pure disgust on Piper's face – that's not normal. People don't run away from her.

Mean? Oh yes. Unnecessarily pathological, sometimes? Sure.

But a monster? No.

Setting her shoulders back, she makes her way towards her.

Piper doesn't notice her until she's wedged herself in the queue behind her (another pro of being top of the food chain: you get whatever you want whenever you want, and no one can complain), but even when Annabeth is pressed up behind her she doesn't even look at her. Annabeth feels slightly insulted, and wonders if maybe she didn't realise it was her. She taps her on the shoulder, just to make sure.

"I don't even want to look at you right now," Piper says.

Oh, for heaven's sake. "You're being childish."

"Oh, I'm being childish?" Piper turns to look at her in the eyes for the first time, cocking an eyebrow. "Well, I'm sorry for not being nice to the same girl who sent my best friend sprinting out my house in tears."

Annabeth's eye twitches. "Come on, Piper."

Piper sighs. "Just piss off, Chase. I really don't want to talk to you right now. Go and discuss how to break hearts with all your friends or something."

"Stop being so difficult, for goodness sake. I want to talk to you."

"Well, it's your lucky day, 'cause I really don't."

Bloody hell. Annabeth sighs a little and squares her shoulders. The queue moves forward and she takes the opportunity to stall as much as she can. "I think I owe you an apology," she says quietly.

Piper stops so suddenly the kids behind her nearly walk into her. "I'm sorry?"

"Don't make me repeat it."

"You're apologizing? That's a first."

"You're causing a scene, McLean, come on."

Obediently, Piper steps forward so they're next to each other. The kids behind them let out irritated grumbles. "Well," Piper says. "This is not a day I thought I'd ever see."

"Hysterical. Really."

"What are you even apologizing for?" Piper asks. "Unless you've actually grown a soul and are apologizing for all your out-of-line racism in the past, in which case please feel free to grovel at my feet too."

"I meant on the behalf of Jackson."

"If you're doing that, don't do it to me," Piper says. "Do it to Percy."

"But I can't."

"And why not?"

Annabeth scowls at her.

"The boy is harmless," Piper says. "So long as you don't unnecessarily ferocious towards him you should be fine. Just– don't be yourself, that's all."

"Wow, thanks."

"That wasn't a joke," Piper says, her voice serious. "The last time you were yourself you made the boy cry, Chase. You owe it to him big time. If you mess this up I won't let you anywhere near him ever again."

"He's not your child."

"No, but he's my friend," Piper says firmly. "And you did a crap thing. When you get friends, you'll understand."

She doesn't sound patronizing or pitiful. Instead she sounds soft. She loves Percy a lot, Annabeth realises, and suddenly there's a lump in her throat and her heart aches. She swallows it and nods a little. "Okay."

"Now," Piper says, nudging her. "Go."

Annabeth turns and sees Percy sitting by himself at a table. She knows that this isn't a further demonstration of how sad and pitiful he is (although she supposes it could be) because that's where he sits every lunchtime and soon enough it will fill up with his friends because they buy food and he brings it in from home.

She needs to be fast. If she doesn't act quick enough the table will be full of people like Thalia Grace and Grover Underwood and while she's doesn't quite mind Grover she despises Thalia Grace with a burning passion, and she'd rather her apology not be public. Especially not in front of Thalia Grace.

Taking a deep breath, she heads over.

Percy doesn't spot her until she's only a few feet away, and when he does he flinches like she's just hit him. It does something funny to Annabeth's heart, twists it a little, because she knows that she deserves it for what she said, and even though she prides herself for not letting other people get in her way something about the way Percy won't even look at her causes a little pang in her chest. She purses her lips and delicately perches on the seat across the table from him.

He doesn't look at her in the eyes. That's expected, because he doesn't properly look anyone in the eyes, not even teachers, but it kills Annabeth when she sees his gaze slowly catch upwards and focus on the spot to the left of her. He's trying, she realises. But his hands are shaking beneath the table.

You're a clingy overbearing baby who's too pathetic to look anyone directly in the eyes.

"You don't have to," she says. The softness in her voice surprises even her. "Look me in the eyes, I mean. It's okay."

Percy's shoulders are still rigid. "M'not trying."

"Yes you are. You don't have to. It makes you uncomfortable."

"Since when do you care about what makes me uncomfortable?"

Touché.

Annabeth laces her fingers. Her hands are sweating, although she's not sure why. "Look, Jackson," she says. "I– I'm sorry, about what I said yesterday. I was out of line."

Percy scoffs. "No, where would you get that idea?"

"Don't make this harder for me. I'm trying, all right?"

"Yeah, well, not hard enough." Percy rolls his eyes and scoops up his lunch. "Come back and apologise when you actually mean it."

"Oh, for crying out loud." Annabeth grabs his wrist before he can go completely. Percy wrenches it out of her grasp but he stops moving, at least, and Annabeth bursts into a ramble before he can start again. "Listen, Percy. I'm sorry. I– I wasn't thinking straight, I was just mad."

"Over a project?"

Annabeth flails. "Well. A bit more than that, I suppose."

"Uh-huh." Percy is unimpressed. She's going to have to try harder.

Crikey, apologizing is hard. No wonder she's never done it before.

She sighs. "Fine, oh my God. You were just getting on my nerves, all right? You were just– everywhere I went, and that just annoyed me, and then when you showed up at Piper's house that was just the cherry on top of the cake and I let my feelings get the best of me and I'm sorry, okay? I shouldn't have said any of that. None of that was true." She pauses. "Well, actually."

Percy cocks an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"No, I didn't–" She sighs. "Fine. You insult me, okay? Make up for it."

That stops him in his tracks. He frowns, puzzled. "I'm– sorry?"

"You heard me. Insult me. Say the worst thing you want about me. I don't know how else to make it up to you. I won't get mad, promise."

Percy tilts his head. There's a small pause. "Have you ever upset your friends before?"

The word 'friends' stings but Annabeth schools her expression. "Why?"

"That's really not how you make it up to someone."

"I don't do this a lot, okay?"

"I can tell." Percy looks at her, up and down like he would an examination. He still can't look at her in the eyes and she knows the attention she's bringing to him is making him uncomfortable but there's something about the way he tilts his head that makes her head spin. "Can I ask a question instead?"

Dear God. Oh well, if it'll get McLean off her case. "Go ahead."

"You have to answer."

"I don't have to do anything."

"You have to do this."

He's right, but she's not sure why. She sighs.

"Fine, what?"

He purses his lips and tilts his head. For a split second Annabeth suddenly feels a pit of dread open up in her stomach because there are a lot of things she doesn't feel comfortable answering and Percy isn't stupid, but then all that fear is replaced with confusion when instead of asking something deep and personal Percy says, "What's your favourite colour?"

She blinks. "My– favourite colour?"

"Yes."

"That's your question?"

"Is there a problem?"

"No, not at all. I mean. Yeah, no." Annabeth rocks backwards on her feels. "Wow, um. If I had to pick, probably purple? I don't know."

Percy nods. "Okay."

"That was a dumb question, Jackson."

"You insulted me again. You owe me another question."

"Absolutely not–"

"Why do you cover your Marks?"

Annabeth stops in her traces.

"I'm not answering that," she says.

"You have to."

"Listen, nitwit, I answered your dumb colour question, okay, I don't need to answer any more."

"That's another question."

"For heaven's sake–"

"Annabeth."

"I'm not answering that question, Jackson. Don't accept my apology, whatever, turn the whole bloody school against me while you're at it, I don't care. I'm just not answering that."

"I think you forget who you're talking to here."

She flinches and holds her elbows tightly, almost like she's trying to protect herself. "My– my Marks aren't messed up, okay? That's not what I meant. I'm not– I'm not like you, my Marks are fine. I just don't like showing them to people, okay?"

Percy watches her for a long moment. He doesn't buy it for a minute, Annabeth sees it on his face. But thankfully, he doesn't push. Even if her Marks aren't mutant and freakish like his, at least he seems to have some respect when it comes to pushing about them.

She supposes she does forget that he only has six Marks sometimes. It's obvious at times, like when he doesn't meet her eyes in conversations and only murmurs to Piper and Grover whenever someone new is around, but when he's like this, when he's catching fire from her sparks, it's hard to remember he's shy Jackson with the plain skin. If anyone knows Mark-based discrimination, it would be him.

"You still owe me one more question," he says quietly.

"Last one."

"Why didn't you stay at Piper's for dinner last week?"

She's practiced this one. "I don't like macaroni."

"You didn't even say goodbye."

"I didn't think I had to."

"Piper was sad, you know. That you didn't stay."

"Pull the other one, Jackson, it's got bells on."

"She was. I don't really know why, either, but she was. She looked all slumped."

"Maybe you should get better at reading people."

Percy ignores her. "You should have," he says. "Stayed, I mean."

"Last time I overstayed my welcome I sent you out in tears, Jackson."

Percy purposely ignores the last part of the sentence. "You wouldn't have overstayed your welcome."

"Bloody hell, you must be dafter than I thought. Listen, okay? Piper doesn't like me. Neither do you. You guys wouldn't have wanted me around for dinner, so I did you a favour and left."

Percy doesn't deny any of it, and even though Annabeth had put it in the open it still stings. "You make it like that," he says in a quiet voice. Not afraid. Just shy. "You could be likeable if you wanted to."

"Yeah, as a bed of nails."

"See, you made a joke. That's likeable."

Annabeth sighs. "Stop– stop being so nice to me. I literally called you pathetic and useless and made you cry, why are you being so nice?"

Percy shuffles from foot to foot. "I don't like upsetting people."

Underwood must have rubbed off on him. That's a remarkably hippie thing to say. Unimpressed, she asks, "Even me?"

"Even you. I don't want you to feel like how I felt yesterday, even if you really deserved it. Which you do."

Annabeth can't respond. Suddenly she sees the appeal, and feels the twang of a rusty heartstring, as she realises what she's been missing out while she built her empire of fear and frost, what friendships she missed out on building instead. In an alternate universe, somewhere, somehow, she's friends with people like Percy Jackson, best friends, and he forgives her even when she calls him names because he cares about she feels.

Instead, she swallows everything she wants to say and instead nods jerkily. "Oh."

"You're still awful," Percy says. "There are a lot of things you need to own up to if you want to make anywhere near a start with apologies. But I figured being rude was just going to make it all worse."

"Cute."

Percy gives her a look. "You see what I mean?"

"You couldn't possibly tell me something as cheesy as that and expect me not to say something."

"It is true, though," Percy says. "Like, you can apologise to Piper."

"Piper is the last person I'll apologise to."

"She should've been the first. You've been the worst to her."

"What about how she's treated me?"

"Unlike you, she has a limit and she knows when to shut up. She invited you to stay for dinner. The least you can say is just a 'sorry'."

Annabeth scowls.

Percy shrugs a little. "Just a thought. I've got to be off – Thalia's waving at me. I accept your apology, though."

"Thanks."

Percy gives her a small smile and starts to head off. However, a thought strikes Annabeth as she stares at his retreating back, and it hits her so hard she can't help but call, "Percy?"

He turns around.

"Why–" She pauses. "Why did Piper invite me for dinner?"

Percy shrugs. "I don't know."

"You wouldn't have wanted me there."

"I didn't really have much reason to."

Fair enough.

"You didn't say anything, though."

"I didn't want to pressure you. If Piper wanted you then obviously there was a deeper reason beyond humiliating you at the table or whatever."

Annabeth stares at him in wonder.

This boy.

Distantly, she hears Thalia Grace shout, "Percy!" across the canteen, and Percy shrugs a little and turns away, not bidding her goodbye. He doesn't really need to, because this is the first civil conversation they've ever had and Annabeth doubts they'll have any more, and frankly she isn't that bothered by the lack of farewell and more the fact that Percy Jackson is a bloody enigma of a teenage boy.

He can't look at her in the eye and yet he's the only other person aside from Piper who can stand his ground.

Annabeth feels her world begin to shake and she's not sure how she feels about it.

This doesn't feel like one of their normal fights.

Annabeth knows how their normal fights play out. Athena yells about how Frederick is an irresponsible parent and Frederick shouts oh that's rich coming from you and then Athena defends her hideous parenting skills by explaining that the reason Annabeth only sees her once every six months is because of work and not because she hates having a disappointment for a daughter and Frederick says something like at least he's here for her and not halfway across the country and yadda yadda yadda. It's all a big melodramatic act by now. It used to scare Annabeth, but she's grown up now and they haven't and even they may be older and Athena may be one of the most powerful businesswomen in the country Annabeth knows she's smarter than they will ever be.

But this time it doesn't play out like that.

Annabeth doesn't even hear them. She's on her bed, typing up an essay on her laptop, when she suddenly hears voices in the corridor and a sharp staccato of heels on the floorboards, and then her door flings open. Frederick is standing in the hallway and Athena is in the doorway, in a blue blouse with her dark hair curled to perfection and her grey eyes glinting.

Annabeth took those eyes. But she also took Frederick's hair. Athena has never said so but Annabeth knows her blonde hair bothers her. She wants Annabeth to be like her. Annabeth is the only person holding her to Frederick. She has shed him like a coat in every way except her daughter, and that's why she knows no matter how many As she scores and how many trophies she wins she'll never be good enough.

It's the dangers of the soulmate system. Annabeth isn't stupid enough to let it jade her vision of it – her parents are idiots. But she's wary. Because once upon a time her mother was as clever as her and now the struggle of pulling herself out of love has dulled her brain.

"Annabeth," Athena says sharply. "Pack your things."

"You can't do this, Athena," Frederick says from behind her.

"I can do whatever I want. Pack your bags, Annabeth."

Annabeth doesn't look up from her laptop. "Where am I going?"

"You're coming with me. I'm not letting you live in this house any longer."

That stops her in her traces. She sits up, bewildered, and stares at both of her parents. They're standing a good five feet apart. "I'm sorry?"

"You see?" Frederick says angrily. "She doesn't want to leave."

"That decision is not up to you, Frederick," Athena snaps. "Annabeth, come on, our flight leaves in an hour."

Annabeth stares at her. "You want me to leave?"

"I've got an apartment in California. There's a good private school there, very smart, very proper. You'll be in good hands there."

"I don't want to go to California!"

"Of course you do, don't be ridiculous," Athena says. "Now come on, Annabeth, start packing."

"No! What's wrong with Pennsylvania?"

"I'm not leaving you in the care of this man any longer," Athena says. "It's a damaging environment for you and I refuse to let you grow up in a house where your father is rarely around."

"And you think I'll be any happier in California?" Annabeth says defiantly. "I see you maximum five times a year! You'll be around less than Dad!"

"A girl needs her mother to grow up!" Athena says. Her voice is slowly getting louder.

"I've done a pretty good job so far!" Annabeth cries. "You keep crapping all over Dad for being a bad parent and you haven't even looked at yourself! Do you really think that I'll be better off in a new state in a new house in a new school with a mom who's barely ever around?"

"Look at you, Annabeth!" Athena shouts back, and Annabeth steps backwards. One thing Athena has always had the upper hand in yelling. She's louder and more powerful than everyone in the room. "You have hundreds of Marks and they are all grey! You think that's a 'good job'?"

"Last year your Mark nearly disappeared!"

"Don't yell at me, I am your mother!"

"Could have fooled me!"

"You're heartless, Annabeth!" Athena yells. "Do you even have a single friend? Every Mark on your body except ours is grey. Your father may have been around more but he sure as hell didn't teach you how to love!"

"And whose fault is that?" Annabeth challenges. "If it wasn't Dad's job that means it was yours, you lousy cow, and look at you, you failed. You're right, I don't have a single friend, and that's your fault because you never taught me how!" Athena opens her mouth but Annabeth beats her to it. "The only thing you ever taught me was how to be the best and how to make people fear me. I have a whole legion of kids at school who follow my every command because I terrify them, and you're blaming Dad for my lack of friends?" Annabeth laughs mirthlessly. "Right."

Athena falters. "I..."

She has nothing to say. The apple never falls far from the tree, after all. If Athena thinks that she has the upper hand she's wrong. One thing her glaring absence has taught Annabeth is to never show weaknesses and instead to pinpoint the target's, and Athena wears her heart on her sleeve.

Annabeth shakes head and climbs off her head. She grabs a rucksack from the floor and starts moving around her room, shoving clothes into it. "Whatever. I'm not doing this anymore."

"Where are you going?" Frederick asks. His voice is small.

"Away," Annabeth says. She zips up her bag and turns to face both her parents. Athena is a cracking machine and Frederick is gnawing on his thumbnail. "You both think the other is a terrible parent," she says. "So let's see how I survive without both of you for a while."

"Annabeth–" Frederick tries desperately.

"I'll come back," she says. "Just not now." She looks at Athena. "You can sell your spare ticket to California. I'm not going."

"You can't leave," Frederick says. He sounds near tears, run ragged. "You're only a little girl, what if you get hurt–"

"I'll be safe," she says. "I know a place." She smiles wryly. "And I'm not a little girl. Haven't been for a while." She shoulders her rucksack and pushes through, between both of them. "If you had been paying attention you'd know."

She's out the door before any of them can stop them.

The world outside is too colourful and Annabeth is momentarily dazzled by the bright sunshine. It doesn't stop her from running, though. She knows neither of her parents will follow her – Athena has a plane to catch and she obviously doesn't care enough to chase her down, and Frederick knows better – but she still sprints as fast as she can down the road. She needs to get out.

That place suffocated her and until she's out of everything familiar it will keep snaking after her, so she runs.

Truth be told, she doesn't actually know a place. Rather, she hopes for a place, because she has an idea in mind, but she knows that she has done nothing to warrant this person lending her a room for a couple of months. In fact, it's a bit of the opposite. She thinks she's done enough to certify herself not getting a room.

But she had to get out of that house.

She pulls her phone out of her back pocket and dials a number. Crossing her fingers, she presses it to her ear.

It rings three times before someone picks up.

"Annabeth?"

Annabeth fidgets with her bag strap. "Piper? Can I ask you a massive favour?"

Piper's estate is massive.

This isn't the first time Annabeth has been to her house, so it's nothing she hasn't seen before, but she remembers the first time she did. By the way Piper dressed, she had expected a ratty apartment covered in stripy throws and artsy oil paintings that you can feel the paint strokes on if you trace your fingers over. She had definitely not expected huge ivory gates, acres of grass so green it didn't look real and actual lion statues by the door.

Lion statues.

Annabeth remembers being awestruck. Her family isn't poor by definition – her mother is a businesswoman and her father is a historian – so they live quite a modest life, in a two-storey house with an okay-ish TV and an oven that only breaks sometimes, and because their school is in no way posh she hadn't expected anyone else to be that much better. If she had known Piper's family was rolling she probably would have been a lot nicer.

But today, she just feels sick. This is going to be her home for the next however many months and she's going to be living in a mansion with lion statues and marble counters and crystal chandeliers and every day she's going to wake up in a luxurious bed and be reminded of her crappy living situation. She's grateful, don't get her wrong, but she wishes that Athena had never put her in this position.

Tentatively, she approaches the massive ebony doors and raps on the wood.

Almost immediately, the door swings open. From the darkness of the hallway, a voice booms, "Annabeth Chase. I've been expecting you."

Annabeth can't help herself. "How did you know it was me?"

"Oh, I didn't." Piper reveals herself from around the doorframe, smiling at her chirpily. She's wearing a pair of stripy socks and a grey sweatshirt and she's sucking at an ice-lolly, and somehow she manages to look six years old and like a professional model at the same time. "I've been opening the door like that and going 'Annabeth Chase' all spooky for the past half an hour, I think. I'm pretty sure I've scared half my street."

Annabeth isn't quite sure if she's joking. Piper's humour has always been a little too dry to properly tell whether or not she's being sarcastic.

She shifts uncomfortably on the doorstep. "Well. It's me."

"And thank goodness for that." Piper beams at her, her eyes glittering mischievously. "I thought you were going to end up flaking on me."

"Why would I do that?"

"Your sarcasm is endearing, considering you've just been kicked out," Piper says. "Now, come in, I've got to show you around. Pull in your bags."

She doesn't offer to help with Annabeth's suitcases. Annabeth is hardly surprised, and instead grabs the biggest one and pulls it over the doorjamb.

Piper's house is absolutely massive. She's always known this, because this shockingly isn't the first time she's been here, but it still always takes her by surprise. Looking at Piper, you wouldn't be able to tell that every room has a massive glass chandelier in it. Piper is all scuffed trainers and choppy hair and stained denim jackets, and this house is– well. The opposite. In house form.

Piper leads her up a set of stairs. She doesn't turn to help Annabeth with her bag so Annabeth is left to struggle up them with her suitcase, as if she needed any more breath knocked out of her. Even a little help would be appreciated. She's been walking for two hours.

Not that Piper knows that. Annabeth grits her teeth and hauls her suitcase up another step. If she told her that, Piper would help, but she doesn't need any more sympathy. Not from McLean.

That's beyond humiliating.

"This is my bedroom," Piper says, pushing open a door. Just as Annabeth had predicted, it's an explosion of colour and indie band posters. "I'm not sure how long you plan to stay here – take your time, honestly, if you want to stay here until graduation feel free – but for tonight you can sleep in here with me so I can wash all the sheets in the guest room."

Annabeth suddenly feels very awkward. "Oh– you don't have to do that."

"Um, yes I do. We are going to be living in very close proximity to each other for a while and I am not getting fleas because you decided to skip out on hygiene." Piper throws herself down on her bed. "You can dump your bags down there. We'll move everything in the guest room properly tomorrow."

"Thanks."

"No problem." Piper leans against the headboard and fixes Annabeth with her glittery eyes. "So."

Annabeth already knows where this is going. "Not now, McLean. I'm really not in the mood."

Piper doesn't relent. Her eyes are as soft and colourful as kids' marshmallows but they can be powerful sometimes, and Annabeth hates that she can only look into them for a few moments before she starts to spill.

"Please, Piper."

"I'm letting you stay in my house."

"I'll tell you eventually, I promise. Just– not now."

Piper quirks an eyebrow.

Annabeth sighs and scrubs a hand over her face. "Oh my God, fine, okay. Mom and Dad hate each other, right? I live with my dad and Mom is god-knows-where – last time I checked it was Atlanta, but now I'm pretty sure it's California – and, like, every two months she comes and visits to remind me that I'm still a disappointment and a disgrace to the family, et cetera, et cetera, you know, your average dose of mommy love. Then today she came in and told me to pack my bags because she wanted to ship me off to California with her – something about Dad being a 'bad influence' on my upbringing, as if she too were not a trashbag – and then she and dad started fighting because mentally they're both six years old, so I got sick of it and left."

Piper sits there for a while. Surprisingly, she doesn't look sympathetic, which Annabeth is actually a little pleased about. Sympathy is good when it's from the right people with the right intentions, and Piper is really neither of those things, but the way she's still looking at Annabeth like she's Annabeth and not Annabeth With The Crappy Parents And Tragic Backstory lifts something off Annabeth's chest.

People have a tendency to treat her like glass when she shares. It's why she's stopped. But Piper looks almost unimpressed, and while on the surface Annabeth considers that quite rude deep down she's relieved because she knows if anyone's going to keep treating her like Annabeth Chase it's going to be Piper.

"Well," Piper says finally, breaking the silence. "I suppose this was the karma."

Annabeth snorts wetly. "You think?"

"I mean, I'm not laughing, so it's not what I would consider 'sweet revenge'. Quite the opposite, actually." She pauses. "I do feel like a right old arsehole now."

"Good."

"I'm sorry."

"S'not your fault."

"Still."

"You offered me a place to stay. You've done more than enough."

"About that." Piper arranges herself on the bed, and then pats down on the duvet next to her to imply that Annabeth can sit down. "Why'd you even ask me?"

"I think we both know that I haven't really got any other friends to ask, McLean."

"Ah, right." She rolls onto her stomach and kicks up her legs, crossing her ankles in the air and pulling a funny face. "So. You consider me a friend, huh?"

"I never said that."

"I knew it." Piper kicks her legs excitedly. "I am Annabeth Chase's first friend."

"You're an acquaintance at most. Your Mark hasn't turned yellow."

"Yet."

"Don't flatter yourself."

Piper squeaks happily and rolls off her bed, clasping her hands. Annabeth can't help but roll her eyes. Piper is a bit of a whirlwind at times, and in her baggy clothing she definitely looks more like a little kid than a model right now. That is, until she struts towards the door, and Annabeth has suddenly never been so confused as to how she can make socks that revolting look gorgeous.

Whatever. It's Piper McLean, she can probably also fly.

"I'll show where you'll be sleeping," Piper says. "Come on, it's just down the hall."

Annabeth follows her out the door. The hallway unnerves her a little – it's mainly just various portraits of a woman Annabeth is pretty sure she recognises as her mother from different modelling shoots. In one she's relaxing in a pool, in another she's posing in a garden with two conveniently placed fig leaves, and in another she's talking on an old telephone with her hair curled like Marilyn Monroe.

"Don't worry, you'll get used to them," Piper says. "There's, like, a new one up every month." She reaches a door and nudges it open with her hip, stepping in. "But anyway, here is where you shall be staying. Customise it any way you want, I don't really care."

"Oh." Annabeth suddenly feels very awkward. "No, that's– all right."

"Honest, Annabeth, we've got about eighteen guest rooms as well as six more spare bedrooms, and it's just me and Mom and sometimes Dad and a long-lost stepsister I've never met before. We won't miss any of these. Design it to your little heart's content."

Annabeth smiles tightly. "Thanks."

Piper flops down on the bed. "The bathroom's down the hall, and you know where my bedroom is, in case you get scared during the night and need a cuddle."

"A cuddle?"

"A good snuggle is always good for the soul. I've been told I'm a great hugger."

"I'm not a fan of human contact."

"Unsurprisingly, I kind of knew you would say that. Not to worry, I'll make you a believer. I'm very convincing, did you know? I actually got Thalia into Taylor Swift."

Annabeth isn't sure why this is a big deal but she nods seriously like it is. "Truly an effort."

"You mock me, but it was. Thalia only listens to music about, like, about killing dreams and stepping on puppies or whatever, so even getting her into recent Taylor was hard. God knows how I managed to get her into country Taylor."

Annabeth nods, a little awkward.

"Speaking of which, actually," Piper says, "I think we need to set some ground rules."

"Ground rules?"

"Come sit." Piper pats the bed next to her. Annabeth does. "Now. We are both aware that you do not have many friends. Any, actually."

"What is your point?"

"Well, I was thinking now is the time you can start to make them."

Annabeth gives her a look. "If you're suggesting what I think you're suggesting–"

"You're staying in my house now," Piper says. "It's only necessary that you get along with my friends."

"I don't make you get along with my friends."

"That's because you don't really have any."

"Listen, McLean, okay? Just because I'm staying here doesn't mean that we're now besties. Your friends despise me."

"And with good reason, too," Piper consoles. "But you can change! All you have to do is not be as prickly. Loosen up! Smile a bit!"

"Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I don't want to be friends with your friends?"

"Of course it has. But I feel like it'll be good for you." Piper looks at her imploringly in the eyes. "Listen, Annabeth. I know we got off on the wrong foot, and by got off on the wrong foot I mean we hated each other for a good three years. But bygones are bygones now, and I think we've grown up. It's senior year. We can't keep this petty feud up forever. Besides. You're literally going to be living with me for a while. That's bound to do something to our relationship."

"I'd hope not."

"See, that's the spirit." Piper holds out her hand. "So? Friends?"

Annabeth stares at her outstretched for a long time. "I just don't understand why," she says, after a very long pause. "Why me? Why now? We've had so long. Yesterday we were still fighting."

"You're lonely, Annabeth," Piper says. The mood has sobered. "That's why. It's why I invited you for dinner. You never really thought I hated you, did I? I just didn't like you because you were so set on being rude to me and all my friends, and I wasn't going to stand for it so I stood my ground. You're lonely and hurting and now you're especially vulnerable because you're temporarily sans parents and you need friends, and because I'm the only person who can put up with your crap I decided to step in."

"I'm not a charity case."

"I'm not saying that. I'm just trying to get you back on your feet."

"I don't need help, Piper. Why don't you just get that?"

"Because out of everyone you could have called you called me. Me, Annabeth. You have so many girls who are in awe of you that you could have called, girls who are much closer to you than I am, and yet you chose me because I know you better than any of those girls. And I'm, like, the rival in this equation. What kind of life is it that your relationships are all so isolated your worst enemy knows the most about you?"

"To be fair, that wasn't exactly my choice."

"That's true, but you catch my drift. You do need help, Annabeth, even if it's only a little bit. You built your, like, castle of ice, and it's beginning to melt. You're going to have two steady feet on the ground if you want to survive that."

"I've kept it secret for so long. They won't find out."

"I wouldn't be so sure. I try to avoid you at the best of times and yet I still managed to catch you with your arms and legs exposed. Those girls are, like, glued to you. They're going to find out one way or another. Just let me be your friend, Annabeth. Please. I won't even make you cuddle with me or paint my toenails."

Annabeth sighs. As much as she hates to admit it, Piper is right – about everything. Those girls are one day going to find out that their Marks aren't yellow at all but grey, and they're going to turn. Their entire thing is "best friends forever". Annabeth has been invited to the sleepovers, she knows the drill. Once they find out she's never really had a genuine feeling towards any of them the entire time she's done for.

She will need someone to fall back on, someone stable. And no one is more stable than Piper McLean and her melting pot of cronies with questionable hair.

"Acquaintances," she says finally.

Piper beams. "I can do that."

"You're not a yellow Mark yet."

"I will be soon." Piper quickly sobers. "But before we make this official, one thing."

"What?"

"This feud? Ends here. We're not being nasty to each other any more. No more. Any more racism and that's it. I will not take that any more."

"You never had a problem with it before."

She isn't trying to defend herself. She's asking a question.

"We're friends now. Friends don't do that."

She should've been the first. You've been the worst to her.

"I'm sorry about that," Annabeth says quietly. "I shouldn't have said– any of it."

"Well, that's a start." Piper gives her a funny little sideways smile, her eyes sparkling. "No more, though, okay? That's not even a friendship thing. Rules of the house. Racist, and I chuck you out."

"I promise."

"Good."

It's not perfect, but it's a start. Piper was nice enough to offer Annabeth her home, when Annabeth has been nothing but disgusting to her. You don't get opportunities like this every day, especially not from your arch enemy. She can suck it up and behave. She knows she can.

It's a start, at least.

"Hey guys!" Piper says pleasantly, sitting down. Percy looks up to greet her and then freezes when he quite readily realises she isn't alone.

Everyone else appears to have a similar thought. They all stare at her as she cheerfully sinks down in her seat with her– accomplice in tow and steals a fry from Jason's tray, as if this isn't the weirdest thing that has ever happened.

For a solid ten seconds, no one speaks.

And then Thalia asks, in a slow, controlled voice, "What is she doing here?"

"Oh!" Piper says. "This is Annabeth. She's joining us for today. And maybe the rest of the week, depending on how much blood gets spilt."

And sure enough, it is. She looks like regular old Annabeth Chase – straight hair, falling behind her shoulders like a long blonde cape, in sensible clothes that cover enough of her to not have a single Mark in sight but not enough to make her seem like a nun. Somehow, in her long-sleeved cardigan and pristine jeans, she manages to look more attractive than any girl Percy has seen with their boobs out.

Normally, she could never look out of place, because this school is her kingdom and she reigns with a frosty sceptre, but here at the table she has never looked so peculiar. She just doesn't fit in here. They're the odd ones out, so to speak, because you've got people like Jason Grace and people like, well, Percy, sitting within inches of each other. And then here comes Annabeth Chase, with her pastel sweaters and ice-cold eyes, and she sticks out like a sore thumb.

Annabeth seems to feel his gaze on her and she looks at him. Percy glances away quickly.

Thalia blinks. "And why the hell, may I ask?"

"Thalia," Percy says, sighing.

"Don't, Jackson. You can sigh at me all you want. I'm not sitting at a table with her."

"And what makes you think I ever wanted to sit a table with you either?" Annabeth asks innocently. Her eyes are freezing and impassive.

Thalia stands up. "All right, listen, Chase–"

"Thalia," Piper barks. "Sit down."

"No, Piper!" Thalia holds out her arms. "I'm not going to sit here and play nice with the same girl who has been tormenting you for the past three years!"

"The past is the past. We've made up, it's all good."

"Uh, no it's not? Do I need to give you a run-down of all the crap she's said to you?"

"She changed, Thalia! People do that, you know!"

"She's also right here," Annabeth quips drily.

Thalia's eyes narrow. She stabs a finger at her. "Don't test me, Chase."

"Ooh, frightening."

"Right, that's it." Thalia pushes up her sleeves and Percy is almost certain she's about to leap across the table and drag Annabeth to the floor by the hair. She looks like she wants to, in any case. Annabeth is undeterred, however, and she stands up too, staring her dead in the eyes.

Percy can feel their Marks on each other form. He knows it'll be a long time, if ever, before they turn yellow.

"Guys–" Grover tries.

"Shut up, Grover," Thalia snarls. She leans forward. Her hand almost goes straight in Percy's burger. "I don't know what spell you've put Piper under but I'm not falling for it, okay? You're a piece of crap and you always have been. You treat her like absolute garbage for years, and then you waltz in here like you own the place and expect us to treat you nicely because what, you've managed to convince Piper you've changed? Please. As if Annabeth Chase will ever feel a single flicker of emotion towards anyone except herself."

Annabeth's eyes flash. "You talk a big game for a coward, Grace."

"Oh, I'm the coward?"

Annabeth studies her for a few moments and suddenly Percy knows what's going to happen. He feels a balloon inflate with poison in his chest. "Guys, come on–"

"What would your precious daddy say if he heard you speak like that?" she says coolly, and Thalia suddenly flinches like she's been struck across the face. Jason also stands up. The air has turned electric. Percy can feel it stain his throat, rancid and biting. He hates fighting, he hates arguments. He doesn't want to be here. "I'm sure he wouldn't be very pleased with you."

"That's enough, Annabeth," Jason says firmly.

Annabeth turns to him, like she's only just realised he's there. "Oh, Jason. Standing up for your freakazoid of a sister? That's honestly adorable. Should have always known, though. If you went for someone like Piper your standards were always going to be low."

"Annabeth!" Piper shouts.

The atmosphere breaks. Percy feels like he can breathe. Piper stands up as well. Nico ducks behind his pasta.

"Remember what I said, Chase," Piper says in a hard voice. "We don't do that anymore, all right? That was the deal. I let you stay, you shut your trap."

Percy doesn't know what this deal is but Annabeth seems to take a step back.

"I want this to work," Piper continues. "I really do, but it isn't going to go anywhere if all of you keep acting like absolute children. We're trying to bond here, form new friendships and whatnot. We're not trying to break them apart."

"Your friend here just appears to have that endearing quality about her," Thalia snaps.

"Sounds familiar," Annabeth mutters.

Thalia's eyes harden.

"Come on, Piper," Jason tries. "You can't expect us to like her, especially after all that she's done to you! She's literally been racist towards you, and you're just okay with that?"

"Yes," Piper says in a firm voice. "We're adults, we made up. Well. I'm an adult, in any case. You differentiate every now and then."

Jason stares at her. "She literally just insulted you a second ago!"

"It's part of her charming personality."

"What, making fun of you?"

"Absolutely. She's as prickly as a hedgehog, it's quite adorable."

"And you're just okay with that?"

"I love you, Jason, but you don't have to save me every time. You're my boyfriend, not my bodyguard. I know how to fight my own battles. Annabeth is no threat, I promise you."

Jason stares at her for several more seconds before he blinks in disbelief and sinks back down into his seat. "All right, whatever," he mumbles, seemingly half to himself. "Not a problem at all, just making friends with your local racists."

"Jason," Piper says in a warning voice.

"I'll drop it, whatever."

Thalia seems harder to sway. She doesn't look convinced at all. "This can't be real," she says incredulously. "You can't be serious, Piper!"

"I've never been more serious in my life."

Thalia flounders. Pathetically, she turns to Percy, her eyes desperate. "Percy?"

Percy lifts a shoulder. "She's– not that bad, Thalia."

Annabeth doesn't smile but something in her eyes thaws.

"You're kidding," Thalia says in disbelief. "You're kidding, Percy, look at me, this is Annabeth Chase. She's done stuff to you too! Why are you okay with this?"

"She apologised."

"Sorry is just a word, Percy!"

"And she's just a girl," Percy says softly. Annabeth flinches like she's been struck between the eyes. "We made up. It's okay."

Thalia seems stumped. "Unbelievable." She frowns at Annabeth. "You even have Percy under your spell. What are you?"

"You heard the boy," Annabeth says, a little wryly. "Just a girl."

Thalia doesn't appear to know what to do. Percy will admit, it's a little funny – Annabeth is like a stone and Thalia is like a firecracker. She'll initially cause more damage but she burns out quickly, and then Annabeth will stand, unwavering, firm. Percy admires that, almost. Percy's got Thalia all figured out, because she's a whirlwind with a heart of gold who loves fiercely, and he loves her because of it, but Annabeth is fascinating, always has been, because she shifts.

Most people you can pin like butterflies to a corkboard. Annabeth is like trying to catch mist in a jar.

He glances down at her hands. She had pulled her sleeves all the way up to her knuckles, but they've slipped upwards a little, and Percy catches sight of the backs of her hands, covered in Marks – all grey.

She catches him looking and yanks them right back down.

Grey Marks aren't uncommon. The vast majority of people have more grey Marks than they do any other colour, because they'll make eye contact with hundreds of strangers on public transport. It's just the way things work. Percy wonders why Annabeth covered them.

It's stupid to be ashamed of your grey Marks. They're what make you normal. A lot of people Percy knows have only five yellow Marks, like him, or sometimes even less, but because they're covered in grey Marks they're fine.

The gears in his head start to turn.

Thalia stares at Annabeth for a few more moments, before, defeated, she drops back in her seat. "Okay, then," she mutters. "Whatever. It's not like this is super weird or anything."

Annabeth sits back down too. She looks triumphant, almost, but she masks it with an expression of calm. Piper, on the other hand, seems utterly ecstatic.

"Well," she says, looking a little smug. "That took a lot less convincing than I thought it would."

Thalia hmphs, displeased.

"I'm still not happy," Jason says.

"Live a little, man," Nico tells him. "Piper seems happy. Besides. Like Percy said, she's just a girl."

Annabeth rolls her eyes. Thalia notices and seethes a little.

"Yeah," Piper reaffirms. "She's harmless. She's like a cactus, you know – prickly and irritating on the outside, but soft and mushy on the inside. I haven't yet cracked down to that part yet but I will, mark my words."

"I am here, you know," Annabeth mutters, picking up her sandwich. "You can say my name. I won't curse your firstborn or whatever."

Grover stares at her. "You just made a joke."

"Oh shock, I have a sense of humour."

"I didn't mean it like that," Grover says timidly. "I just meant– you know. Your sense of humour has always seemed like it centred around kicking puppies and feasting on your enemies' livers and stuff, you know."

Nico drops his head into his hand. "Stop talking, please."

Annabeth actually looks like she's about to crack a smile. She's got a pretty smile, Percy realises. She should do it more often. "Sorry to burst your bubble."

"I can't believe he's siding with the enemy," Thalia mutters viciously. She stabs her straw through her Capri Sun with extra vigour as if to emphasis her point. "Unbelievable."

"She's not the enemy."

"So everyone's been saying." Thalia eyes her. "I don't trust her."

"I can hear you," Annabeth says.

"Good."

Annabeth raises her eyebrows and watches her with an icy stare for a few moments, before shrugging and turning back to her drink. She's never looked so small. Percy looks at her from where she's sat next to Piper. She normally has all the dominance in a room, has all the power, but here she doesn't, and she must realise it. At first she thought she did, because everyone listened to her and feared her, but now that the table has lapsed into (mostly) comfortable conversation she's got nothing to except stare down her milkshake straw.

Percy isn't sure what to feel about that. He picks at his burger.

"So," Piper says brightly. "Jason, how was football practice?"

Percy can't help but snort. "Subtle."

Piper flicks a paper towel at him.

Jason rolls his eyes fondly but he takes the bait because he's a good boyfriend. Percy should get him a mug or something. "Uh, it was good," he says. "We've just recruited Frank Zhang as linebacker and he's built like a horse so this season should be cool."

"Did you finally let Leo Valdez on the team?" Nico asks, amused.

Jason sighs. "Two years, and he still won't take the hint."

"You have to admire his persistence," Nico says. "You'd think he believes he actually has a chance."

"Well, of course. It's why he attends tryouts every year. I recommended cheerleading this time."

Thalia chokes on her drink. "Are you serious?"

"It's not a bad idea. He's got a lot of energy and clearly a lot of school spirit if he keeps trying out every year."

"He only wants to get on the team because it scores him chicks." Thalia takes another sip of her juice. "It's like he's oblivious to the fact that he could literally make an international team and girls would still stay far away."

"Can he even dance?" Percy asks.

"Probably not," Jason says. "He's got the coordination of a three-legged moose. At tryouts yesterday there was a slight breeze and he actually fell over. I doubt he'd be any better at cheerleading then he is at football."

"Can you imagine him on top of the pyramid, though?" Thalia asks, snorting. "There'd be a slight gust of wind and he'd float down like a balloon."

"At least cheerleading will get him off my case," Jason says. He swirls his salad around ("listen, okay, it's football season, I have to start bulking up" "whatever you say, Jase") and then spears a tomato with his fork, studying it like it's the most fascinating thing he's ever seen. "I've passed him onto Calypso now, so she can deal with him."

"I can't believe he even agreed," Nico mutters.

"Like I said," Thalia says. "Chicks. Calypso is one of the prettiest girls in the whole school. Football team would only increase his chances of getting a girl by about twenty percent. Cheerleading means he has direct access to them."

"You make them sound like they're cattle," Grover says dryly.

"Listen, goat boy, as long as it has boobs and a pulse Leo Valdez is all over it."

Percy laughs. He catches glimpse of Annabeth almost smiling, too, but when she sees him looking she controls it and scowls at him.

Well, then.

He suppresses a smile of his own. She's like an irritable puppy. It's funny, now that her friends holding up throne don't surround her, she's really not that intimidating at all. In fact, if Percy was a stranger looking in, he would almost think of her face as soft. She's got rounded cheeks and soft hair and freckles across her nose, and when she thinks Percy isn't looking she has a smile on her face that makes her seem almost– gentle.

Gentle. Percy almost snorts. Annabeth is all sharp edges and cold looks. She is far from gentle.

Thalia sips her shake. "What are you smirking about over there, Jackson?"

"Your face."

She blows the remnants of her drink out of her straw at him. He squawks indignantly.

"Hey!"

"You deserved it, you rat."

He contemplates throwing his burger at her. However, before he can, the bell rings, and he almost leaps in surprise. That was fast.

Thalia was, quite literally saved by the bell. Dairy reeks something awful when it stains your clothes, and they've still got two more hours left of school.

Jason pushes his chair back and stands up. He looks very football-captain-y, standing above them all like that. It's rather intimidating. "Well," he says. "Best be off then, I've got a Biology test next period. Percy, fill me with your wisdom."

Percy laughs a little, but he knows it's the wrong thing to say. The only other person who really notices is Piper. She slides her eyes to Annabeth, who is staring coolly ahead like Jason has never spoken.

But when you're royalty your most fragile possession is your pride, and old habits die hard. She spears a tomato. Her every move is rigid.

No one notices except Percy and Piper. They exchange and a look and Percy kind of feels sick.

They all split off to go to their respective lessons. He and Annabeth have the same next class – English Lit – but she powers ahead like a robot and even Piper doesn't try and stop her. Grover hobbles next to him as far as he can until he has to turn off for Calculus and together they both watch as Annabeth walks ahead, her spine rigid and her legs like stiff joints.

"Who knew," Grover says softly. "Annabeth Chase has a kryptonite."

Percy doesn't really know how to respond, so he waves goodbye and walks after her to class.

Percy doesn't properly talk to Annabeth for several weeks.

They're around each other a lot, sure. She joins them almost every day, and when she doesn't she's only a couple tables away with a group of girls. She doesn't properly talk to anyone except Piper, really, now that Percy's thinking about it. He thinks it might be an intimidation thing, which is something he never thought he would say about Annabeth, but whenever she joins them for lunch it's like she's got a bubble around herself that she occasionally breaks to mumble something to Piper.

She's always next to them but Percy doesn't think she's ever been so far away.

He will say something, though, and that is that Annabeth and Piper have progressed tremendously. Like. It's a little jarring, actually. He's so used to them sniping at each other that when Piper had pressed a cheerful kiss to Annabeth's cheek at the end of the day he almost walked into a table.

(Jason was just as thrilled. "You can't go around kissing Annabeth Chase," he told her firmly. "I'm the only person you're meant to be kissing."

"I'm not kissing Annabeth Chase," Piper says. "I just gave her a little friendship peck."

Jason huffs.)

Also.

He's, like, ninety percent sure they now live with each other.

That's something he can safely say absolutely no one saw coming. First off, he's not even sure how that's meant to work, considering he knows Annabeth has two parents of her own and she clearly owns a house, and secondly they had literally just stopped trashing each other. And now they've already moved in with each other.

What about that even makes sense.

They've never said it outright, but Percy connected the dots. Piper is always trying to lace Annabeth into their conversations by bringing up a movie they had apparently watched the night before, and once she had wiggled her fingers in Thalia's face and gloated about how excellent Annabeth was at manicures and had unsuccessfully tried to get her on board ("I do not and never will like Annabeth Chase," Thalia had said. "You have your head on backwards if you think I'm going to let her go anywhere near my nails. She'd probably rip them out while my back was turned."

"Do leave her alone," Piper had said. "She painted mine without any of that."

"That's because you've got a semi-scary football boyfriend who would tear her to shreds if she so much as breathed on you."

"He's also your brother?")

Percy wants to ask, but he always refrains. Piper isn't daft. She wouldn't invite Annabeth to live in her house for the sake of friendship. There's a reason there somewhere, maybe something to do with Annabeth's irrational need to cover every inch of her skin, but because walking that road would be like dancing in a minefield he decides it's best just to leave it alone.

Still.

"You and Annabeth are close," he offers one day.

Piper gives him a cheeky grin. "Jealous?"

"I was just wondering."

"That's not really a phrase up for contemplation."

"I was just wondering why," he says. "Like. Literally yesterday you were both ready to tear each other's eyes out and now you're making bloody friendship bracelets, and I'm just a bit confused."

Piper sighs, but it's not unhappy. It's more thoughtful. She puts down her pen. "I don't know," she says, in a voice that says she really does. "She just looked like she needed someone."

"She was doing quite fine on her own."

"Not really," Piper says. "I decided that my riveting friendship would be enough to fill the void, and thus I stepped in for the job."

"She had everyone petrified of her. She could have picked anyone. Why did you volunteer for it? You hate her."

"I don't hate her," Piper says. "She just got a bit annoying sometimes. Like a fly."

"A fly."

"You've got to try understand her a bit," says Piper. "Not entirely, because she's like a bloody black hole with everything going on, just endless nothingness with the occasional biting remark, and even I don't understand her fully, but just get an overall grasp. She was lonely. She needed me."

"You didn't need her."

"Maybe not," Piper says. "I think in due time I might, though. She's really not that bad."

"Ha ha."

"You scoff, but it's true. You should try talking to her. She's a bit like a crab – snippy on the outside, and an absolute disaster when it comes to retracting the pincers, but when you get on the inside she's all soft and gooey, like a pillow. She likes Indiana Jones, you know. That's common ground."

"I'm not going to go up to her and be like, talk dirty to me, and she'll say Indiana Jones and I'll just marry her. Conversation is rather hard. Especially for me."

"You'll get used to it."

"I'd rather I just get to the soft bit first. Is there a shortcut?"

"Indiana Jones," Piper says promptly. "And vanilla milkshakes."

Of course Annabeth Chase likes vanilla milkshakes.

"See, that's also a bit of a problem."

"She's a girl, not an equation," Piper says. "Just be like, hey, wanna go for milkshakes?"

"We're virtual strangers."

"And you will forever remain that way unless you make a move. It takes two to tango, you know. Second punch starts the fight, and all that jazz. How many times have you guys talked?"

"Like. Three."

"Well, that's good. That's also common ground."

"'Hey, Annabeth, remember that time you made me cry? Let's go for milkshakes.'"

"You're a nightmare, Jackson. This really isn't as hard as you think it'll be. Think of her like me. How easy is it to start conversation with me?"

"That's only because you're my best friend."

"Just go up to her and start talking about memes, or Star Trek, or whatever. She'll dig it, I promise. And then you can go for milkshakes and exchange sob stories and become best friends, the end. You've got the golden moment right in front of you, just seize it!"

"What if I don't want to seize it? There's a reason we haven't spoken until now. She scares me, Piper."

"Don't let her, she's harmless. Did you know she cries at High School Musical?"

"I– did not."

"See, how scary is she now? She's a loser. Just like you. It's practically written in the stars. Nerd meets nerd, the entire shebang."

Percy gnaws at her lower lip. "I don't know."

"She hates strawberry flavoured anything and she's allergic to facepaint and when she thinks I'm not home she likes to wear blue eyeshadow and she wears big fuzzy cardigans and she has those fluffy socks that you also have and she unironically enjoys the Shrek movies. She is literally the least most frightening person on this planet. In fact, some people would argue you're more terrifying."

"The entire school is scared of her."

"And with good reason, too, because she can be a bit frosty, but on the inside she's all yucky and romantic and gross. Don't be scared of her, she's great."

Percy keeps chewing his lip.

"If you don't talk to her, then I'll literally make you. I have before."

"The last time you did that it ended with me in tears."

"Not one of my brightest moments, but hey, at least you both talked. Even if your conversation wasn't the most pleasant. And! You forget that you're the only kid in the school who can unnerve the heebie-jeebies out of her. That has to mean something."

"What, that I'm so used to rejection I can hold a conversation with the scariest person in the whole school?"

"I was thinking more along the lines that it would make your friendship more smooth-sailing, but I suppose that's also half-true."

Percy actually laughs at that. "We'll see," he says.

"Who knows?" Piper says, picking her pen back up. "Maybe you'll even get a Mark out of it."

Percy doesn't know how to respond. He picks up his pen too and stares down at his page until all the words blur together.

He decides to make his move the following day.

He knows during their free period Annabeth either likes to terrorize the library or sit by herself in the courtyard with her phone, and just by a stroke of luck she happens to do the latter. Grover and Nico are planning to go to an exclusive, invite-only hipster screening of Pyscho and had asked him to come along, but he had just told them he was otherwise occupied. With what, he didn't mention. He's not sure platonically seducing Annabeth Chase would be taken very well.

"Your loss," Nico says, unbothered. "Well, come on, then, goat boy, we don't want to be late."

"I'm still not massively sure how you're planning on pulling this off, Nico," Grover says nervously as they patter off. Percy hears his voice fade out. "I looked it up, it's almost two hours long, and we only have an hour off, this doesn't seem very foolproof..."

Percy smiles fondly as they disappear through the school gates, and then turns his attention to Annabeth Chase, who, right on cue, has appeared at one of the benches in the middle of the courtyard. She's in a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved navy shirt, and even though this is probably the most casual Percy has ever seen her she still looks gorgeous, as usual. She's holding her phone and a bag, and when she sits down on the bench she swings her bag onto the table but doesn't open it, instead opting to keep staring at her phone.

Percy swallows. This is going to be harder than he thought.

Come on, Perce. Don't chicken out now.

He sets his shoulders back. He can do this. He can do this.

Slowly, he begins to approach her.

She doesn't notice him until he's standing right in front of her. He awkwardly sways on the balls of his feet, not quite sure he's allowed to go any closer to her without her seeing without it being creepy, and it takes her a few seconds to realise there's a human standing in front of her. She blinks and looks up at him.

It feels weird, being the tall one. Even though he technically always has been.

Metaphorically speaking. Whatever. He's failing English.

"Oh," she says, in a not very thrilled voice. "You're here."

"I am." He clutches his bag and stares firmly at her eyebrows. "I. Have cookies?"

She quirks an eyebrow. "Are you asking me or telling me?"

Percy flounders. "Telling. You. I'm telling you. That's what I'm doing. Telling you. That I have cookies." To stop himself from speaking any more he steps on his own foot and bashfully pulls out the sandwich bag with them in. "They, uh. Have Smarties in them."

Annabeth eyes them, but not suspiciously. "I didn't know you baked."

"I didn't. My, uh, mom. She made them."

That almost gets a smile out of her. She looks at him for a few seconds before saying, "well, are you going to sit down or keep standing there looking gormless?"

She doesn't say it nicely but it's still technically an invitation for him to join her so he hastily stutters out an apology and clambers over the bench so he's sitting opposite her. His hands are shaking, he realises. Internally, he rolls his eyes.

Get it together, Perce. God.

Annabeth eyes him for a few seconds in mild surprise, like she wasn't really expecting him to sit down with her, but she doesn't boot him off, which eases his conscience slightly. After a few moments, she says, "well, let's see these cookies, then."

He pushes the bag into her hand, and she unpeels the seal and takes one out. They're Percy's favourite – white chocolate and Smarties, and then dyed blue, and suddenly he feels sick. Making cookies was a terrible idea. Those YouTube videos on how to make friends were probably a big fat lie. Oh God, what if she doesn't like it? What if she spits it out and hates it, and then hates him, and everything falls to pieces?

His thoughts are cut short when she bites into it. Annabeth doesn't look away from his eyes the entire time, which is slightly unnerving and also very uncomfortable. It takes everything in Percy not to look at her back. Instead, he stares at a point above her head.

She chews, and tilts her head. Then, she says, "these are really nice."

Oh, thank the Lord. Percy tries to sag with relief as subtly as he can.

"Tell your mom," she says. "They're good."

"Thanks," he says. Then his eyes widen. "I mean. On my mom's behalf. Because. She made them and stuff. Not me."

Annabeth's watching him. "Yeah, I got that."

"Right." He pulls at his thumbs, hard. "Sorry."

"You apologise a lot."

"S– I mean. I guess."

She doesn't respond, just watches him, with those startling sterling silver eyes of hers. He feels like a Maths equation under her steely gaze. Then, after what feels like years, she laces her fingers under her chin and says, "so. What may I do for you, Jackson?"

"Huh?"

"Why are you here?"

"Oh." Percy clutches his bag tighter, like a security blanket. He catches Annabeth noticing and loosens his grip, rubbing his sweaty hands down his jeans. Now or never. "Um. Well. I thought we could have a go at being friends."

That catches her severely off guard. She blinks, once, twice. "I'm sorry?"

"Friends," he says. "You know. When two or more people join in union to form a bond of everlasting acquaintanceship–"

"I know what friends are, Jackson," she says snippily. Her voice suddenly is several notes higher than normal, panicky. "I just– I've just never been so directly approached before about it."

Percy beams. Somehow, her unease has given him confidence. It's not every day you floor the most intimidating girl in the whole school. "Well, we're all up for trying new things. Besides, this'll make me stand out amongst all your potential platonic suitors as memorable, so you'll consider me more thoughtfully." He's too busy rifling through his bag to see her involuntarily square up at the end of his phrase. "If you need convincing I've got more cookies. They're chocolate."

Annabeth looks so confused it's almost kind of cute. "You– want to be friends? With me?"

"I mean." Percy pauses and shrugs. "Yeah, I guess."

"Why?"

Out of everything, Percy was not expecting that. "What do you mean?"

"Why the hell are you doing this? Did Piper set you up?"

She sounds angry now. Percy blinks. "Uh..."

"Because if she did, you can tell her to shove her and her unnecessary opinions and invasions of my privacy right up her arse and for her to piss off." Annabeth's properly angry now. She stands up and shoves her phone in her bag, slinging it over her shoulder. "She just needs to butt out, God!"

"Um." Percy feels his heartbeat flutter everywhere. "She– didn't?"

Annabeth stops. "What?"

"Piper didn't set me up? I– uh. Don't really know where you'd get that from."

Annabeth stares at him. Her bag swings from her shoulder from how aggressively she had slung it on. All her fire has seemingly seeped out of her. "She– didn't?"

"No." Percy bashfully looks down at his cookies. "I mean. She encouraged me a little. Because I wanted to be friends with you but, uh, as you could probably guess, I'm a little suckish with talking to people and you're scary sometimes– only sometimes, though," he rushes out when he sees her face change. "Apparently you're not actually that bad, though, so it's all good! Piper called you a cactus."

"A cactus."

"Prickly on the outside, all mushy on the inside." Annabeth doesn't look any more pleased so Percy rushes on. "Not that it's a bad thing! I mean. We've all cried at High School Musical, haven't we?"

Annabeth's eye twitches. "Mm."

"She also said you like Indiana Jones. And, uh. I, too, like Indiana Jones. So. I thought it would be, like. A backup plan, in case all other forms of sentence starters failed." Annabeth is still giving him that odd incomprehensible look so he says sheepishly, "I comprised a list. Of conversation starters, I mean, not backup plans. But mentally. Not– not physically, because– um. That would be lame."

Annabeth looks like she's about to laugh, but her eyes are sharp. It's a funny look. It could be considered cruel, but it also could be seen as soft. Percy's not sure.

Maybe this development in their relationship will decide. Only time can tell, he supposes.

Carefully, she slinks back down into her seat. Her eyes are cautious, suspicious. "Where are your friends? Underwood and the emo?"

"Nico," he says almost immediately. "Um. They've gone to see a movie."

"During free period?"

"It's. Exclusive. Part of one of Nico's odd anime clubs. Even though Psycho's not an anime. I think they're doing a vintage thing, to make them more hipster. It's a thing. They did invite me, though. But. I turned it down. As you can tell."

She quirks an eyebrow. "Not a horror fan?"

"I suppose you could say that. But, um. I wanted us to bond as friends, too, and I couldn't really do that if I was watching a movie."

Annabeth doesn't respond. She just keeps watching him.

Percy hates awkward silences. He also hates it when he's been psychoanalyzed by the likes of people like Annabeth Chase but he doesn't mention it and instead breaks a corner off one of the cookies and starts to crumble it in his fingers. He needs to be fidgeting with something most of the time to help with the anxiety. He should invest in a fidget spinner. That would be some sort of help, wouldn't it?

"So," he says. "Um. What do you normally do now?"

Annabeth raises an eyebrow. "Is this your attempt at 'bonding'?"

"Well, you're not providing much conversation so I suppose we have to start at the basics."

"Ooh, touchy." She doesn't sound offended – quite the opposite, she sounds amused. "Well, I'll indulge you, whatever. I do lessons on my phone."

"Lessons? For what?"

"If I told you I'd have to kill you."

"There are cameras everywhere, I'd quite like to see you try." Percy props himself on his elbows. "Really, what are you doing?"

"Nosy."

"Just curious."

Annabeth rolls her eyes and tilts her screen away from him. "You can try this friendship thing out, I'll let you have a go, but this is not the way you win someone's heart."

"It can't be that bad."

"Has anyone told you that you're actually extremely irritating?"

"Several times."

"Go figure."

"What are you doing on your phone, Annabeth Chase?"

"Nothing."

Percy leans up to have a peep. Annabeth scowls at him and tries to switch off her phone before he can see but her fingers miss the button for only a split second, and it's enough for Percy to catch glimpse of her screen.

He sits back, his mouth slightly open. Annabeth shoves her phone in her pocket, two red spots high on her cheeks. He can see in her face that she's praying he didn't see.

But he did. How can he not recognise that screen?

"You have dyslexia?" he asks.

"No."

"But you have Dixic," he says. "That's a dyslexia app."

"And how would you know that, Jackson?"

"I have dyslexia, too," he says honestly. "I use it."

Annabeth pauses. "You have dyslexia?"

"Why are you so ashamed to tell me?"

Annabeth scoffs. "Well, it's not as if I'm proud of it."

"You should be," Percy says. "Well. Not of the dyslexia itself, that sucks, but you're very smart. You should be proud that you've achieved so much."

"You sound like a counsellor."

"But you know what this means," Percy says, ignoring her. "It means we have another thing in common."

"Are you serious?"

"Entirely. Now we have Indiana Jones and dyslexia as mutual– things. That has to count for something, doesn't it?"

"For what, that we have good taste in movies and our brains don't work?"

"It's practically fate, Annabeth. Considering we're polar opposites, we sure do share a lot of interests. I bet we have a lot more in common than we think."

Annabeth rolls her eyes. "Oh, really."

"Piper told me that you very much like vanilla milkshakes. And I am here to tell you that I do too."

"Do you have a life?"

"That's still another thing!"

"Something tells me you don't really believe that."

"Well, that's true," Percy says. "Vanilla milkshakes are vile, and I'm not entirely sure how or why you enjoy them, but because you clearly can't offer up any fascinating conversation motives I'm stuck here struggling and resorting to lying to keep this up."

Annabeth just raises her eyebrow. "I'm not the one who wants to be friends here."

"I was expecting at least a little effort."

Annabeth rolls her eyes at him. She does that a lot. Percy considers the possibility of her one day rolling them out of her head. "Fine. How are you on this good day, Percy Jackson?"

He thinks about it. "I'm– very well, actually. A little chilly, but I'm good for the most part." He pauses. "You?"

"You weren't actually meant to answer that."

"It's the most you've offered all conversation, of course I'm going to take it. And you didn't answer my question."

"I'm good."

"Just– just good?"

"What do you want me to say, Jackson? Spectacular? Mind-blowing? Utterly fabulous?"

"You don't have to be sarcastic. This is a genuine chat we're having here."

"Is it?"

"We've discussed our deep dark tragic pasts, Annabeth. I think that counts." He takes a bite out of the cookie he was crumbling. "Besides, now that we know all the dark bitty crevices of each other, I think we can classify one another as a potential friend."

Annabeth laughs. "Trust me, Jackson, you're just grazing the surface."

"Wait, you actually have a dark tragic past?"

"I mean. Tragic is a bit of a strong word."

Percy's treading dangerous territory here. He should probably shut up, but he's already shoved his hand in the fire. He doesn't see what a difference it will make. "Has it got something to do why you live with Piper?" he asks.

She doesn't freeze, but her posture tightens, like someone has just switched her on. She sighs. "She told you?"

"No. I just figured it out. You're not very subtle, either of you." He pauses. "I'm pretty sure that's even Piper's shirt."

She glances downwards. "Oh."

"Yeah."

She sighs again and starts pulling her cookie apart. Percy looks down at the crumbs on his jeans. Maybe they're more alike than they originally thought. "Just– parent stuff."

"Did they kick you out?"

"It's more like I ran away."

Percy sits up. "You ran away?"

"It's a bit of a long story. If you want the very condensed version, then yeah, I guess."

"Whoa." Percy sits back. "That's. I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything."

"I'm sorry."

"Not your fault."

"I can't believe you ran away." He stares thoughtfully at her hairline. "That's just not something I can imagine you doing."

"Oh, shock horror, I have human emotions and feelings."

"Why?"

"Why do I have human emotions and feelings?"

"Why did you run away?"

She stares at him. "Do you have any tact, Percy Jackson?"

"Most of the time," he says honestly. "But I'm not scared around you."

She opens her mouth, and then stops and closes it. She's got a funny look in her eyes, and she tilts her head. "My parents were fighting," she says finally. Percy knows it's not what she wanted to say, but he doesn't press it. "Neither of them wanted me, it was pretty obvious. Mom was trying to fob me off to California with her and Dad– well, he's only marginally less crappy than she is. I got sick of it, so I packed up and left."

"And you picked Piper?"

She hesitates. "Yes."

"Why? I'm sure you had lots of girls who'd like to stay with you."

"If I hadn't moved in with Piper we wouldn't be here right now, so technically it's my quick thinking that has granted you another friend."

She's trying to change the subject. She's slippery, Annabeth. It's her way of trying to slide her way out of the corner he's got her backed into.

He lets her.

"You did nothing more than be in the right place at the right time," he points out. "You wouldn't have come near me if I hadn't gotten to you first."

"Can you blame me? You're nosy as hell and you just hover everywhere, like a fruit fly."

A week ago, Percy would have been hurt. He's not anymore. "I get that a lot. But I've also been told I've got soft hair and I give good hugs, so I'd say the pros outweigh the cons."

Annabeth takes another cookie and grumbles around it. "What is it with you people and hugs, anyway? It's like if you're not physically touching in one way or another you'll keel over and die."

"It's just a nice thing to do," Percy says. "Don't you ever cuddle with your friends?"

"Not– not really."

"Well, it's a relief I'm your friend now," he tells her. "Don't worry, I'll make up for all your years of solitude."

She smiles uncomfortably. Something's wrong. Percy feels like he may have accidentally treaded into shark-infested waters, so he tries to backtrack as much as he can. "I'll be counting on it," she says, in a tight voice.

"Excellent," Percy says. And it really is. For all his joking, it feels like a huge weight has been lifted off his chest. He and Annabeth Chase are friends. Annabeth Chase, who used to snipe at Piper so aggressively it'd hurt him, who used to frighten him into panic attacks with nothing more than just a look. They're friends. They shared cookies together. That's pretty cool. He feels like he's just taken another colossal step up a mountain. His mom will be so excited to hear.

And! She's his seventh Mark!

For the first time, he beams at her and looks at her straight in the eyes. He can't feel the Mark form on him, because that's just not how they work, but he knows if he rolls up his sleeve he'll see a single grey set of initials somewhere and that thrills him. Annabeth looks a little taken aback to see him look at her straight in the eyes, and Percy feels that way, too, because it's been so long that he's made eye contact with someone who's not already on his arm, but it's wonderful, because she's got such pretty eyes. He thinks Piper might have once described them as angry storm clouds. He thinks they're beautiful. He's never seen eyes so intense before.

"You– you're looking me in the eyes," Annabeth says, a little shocked.

"Well, yeah," Percy says. "We can't be friends if you aren't a proper Mark."

Annabeth blinks, startled. "Well. Hello."

"Hey," Percy says cheerfully. "Your eyes are very pretty, did you know that?"

"Um." She blinks again. She's like a newborn kitten. "You might be the first to tell me that."

"Really?"

"They've mainly been described as intimidating."

"I mean, they are," Percy says. "This is why I think my method of working is the best. Because generally people can't hold your gaze because you're quite scary up close, but because I don't look into your eyes it means I can't be frightened off."

"You don't look into my eyes because you have chronic anxiety, Percy."

"Yes, well, that, but also because of the whole you shouldn't judge a book by its cover. You're a prime example of that."

"Of judging books by their cover?"

"By being mistakenly judged," he corrects. "People think you're terrifying, but you're really not."

She sits up, almost as if she's affronted. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well. You're really quite nice when you dig deep. I mean, look, we've held a civil conversation for the past twenty minutes, and so far you've only threatened to leave me once and the worst thing you've called me is a fruit fly. Plus we've exchanged sad tragic backstories, so technically we're best friends. I'd consider this a success."

Annabeth is watching him with an odd expression Percy can't quite place. It's something like wistfulness, adoration and scorn, and Percy isn't sure what to feel. "You're a lot different up close," she says. "I thought you were shy."

That was her first mistake. People like to assume he is because of his anxiety and sparing Marks. It's a game he plays. It's almost funny to watch them change when he takes off like a firecracker.

"I'm not shy around my friends," he says. "And we're friends now, so you get the full package."

"What about that time at Piper's? The first time she double-booked?"

Percy smiles wryly at her. "Like I said. You don't scare me."

"But everyone else does?"

"You're just very interesting," he says. "You're like an onion, you know. Or a cake. Layers. There are just lots of elements about you. Boring people are the scary ones, but you've always been– well. Not boring."

Annabeth raises an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Like, why Piper? Why did you two even start fighting? Why do you cover yourself from head to toe every day? Why are you so scary? How did you become so– respected in school?"

She laughs humourlessly. "Questions of the universe."

"Well, we're friends now." For the first time, Percy rolls up his sleeve, and they both stare at the grey AC on his upper arm. "In due time I suppose a few of them will be answered."

Annabeth looks at the Mark on his arm for a long time.

"You okay?" he asks softly.

"How does it feel?" she asks abruptly. "To– to have to go through that every day?"

"You get used to it," he says. "Besides, it's kind of nice to know that every Mark on your body is someone you love and not just a stranger you see on a bus, you know?"

Annabeth manages a smile. "Even me?"

Percy nods. "One day." He pauses and grins a little. "I haven't felt how good your hugs are yet. That's kind of a deal-breaker for me. Speaking of, actually–"

"I'm not hugging you, Jackson."

Percy's quite unbothered. He wasn't expecting anything else. "Fair enough," he says. "Want another cookie?"

"I'm all right."

He seals the packet and puts it in his bag. "Well, I'm glad this happened," he says. "Can you believe it? We're friends now."

"Not really."

"Me neither. I'm quite excited about this. You know what this means."

"That you're going to be hovering around me like a mosquito for the rest of my life?"

"Quite precisely. I am going to woo you with friendship. I shall text you every day and we'll hang out lots and you won't ever be able to get rid of me, not unless you become horrible and grouchy again."

"Oh, don't you start. Piper's already all up my arse about that."

"It's true, though. Before us, your life was darkness. Mystery. Danger. Now you've been accepted into the cult of friendship."

"Cult is– not the right word."

"Wait until Thalia invites you around for a movie night, it gets pretty cult-ish then. We all sit in a circle and watch as she sets fire to gummy bears."

Annabeth pulls a vaguely pained face. "Well."

"It really isn't that bad, you know, burnt gummy bear actually smells a lot nicer than you'd think it would." Percy starts packing away his things. "Well, free period's nearly over. What lesson do you have next?"

"Maths."

"Marvellous, so do I!" Percy stands up and offers his arm. "Should we walk together?"

"Well, I don't really have much choice, do I?"

"Not at all. Come on, we'll be late if we don't get a wriggle on."

"God, did you just say 'get a wriggle on'?"

"I did indeed," Percy says cheerfully. "Now, come on."

Annabeth learns to get used to having Percy around.

She's never had proper friends before. Before Piper ("the dark period of your life," Piper once said, and Annabeth had hit her with the pillow) her only friends had been the girls who surrounded her simply for bragging rights. And they were nice enough, she guesses, because whenever one of them would cry they'd all huddle around and stroke her hair and feed her chocolate, but none of them meant anything to Annabeth, because they were all just too damn scared of her for her to even try forge a proper friendship.

And then comes along Percy, who is completely fearless.

Ever since their talk on the courtyard, he's suddenly everywhere, and unlike the girls from before, he's not bothered by her in the slightest. He walks with her to class and chats to her in the lunch line and sits with her during free period and flicks rubber bands at her across the room in Geography. Honestly, Annabeth feels quite overwhelmed. She's never had such an attentive friend before, except maybe Piper. But Percy text her memes periodically throughout the day and sends her links to Vine compilations he found funny and sometimes calls her at ridiculous hours of the day to tell her things he just found out.

("Did you know snails have approximately fourteen thousand teeth?"

"It's four am, Percy, for God's sake.")

It's weird and Annabeth isn't used to it in the slightest but Percy doesn't appear to be leaving anytime soon she supposes she'll just have to deal. Which isn't a wholly bad thing, to be honest. In fact, she kind of likes this new development in her life.

"It's a new chapter," Piper tells her. "A new leaf turned over. Look at you, burying all these hatchets. I'm so proud of you."

Annabeth isn't sure what that's meant to mean, but she appreciates the sentiment.

It's funny, though. She thinks Percy may have been the first domino to fall, because now that they're friendly she's seeing a significant change in the attitudes towards her from everyone else. She and Nico become great pals, surprisingly, because one day she catches him shuffling some Mythomagic cards and as a closeted nerd herself all it takes is a casual walk over and a "oh, you play Mythomagic?" and then suddenly she's staying up until two arguing with him about characters and theories and lore over text. Thalia still despises her, and she's not really sure that's going to change, but even she's become nicer over time. Instead of glaring holes into her head every day, she's resorted to holding a neutral expression, which Annabeth considers some sort of improvement, and once during Maths when their terrified substitute was trying to control the class Annabeth had muttered something along the lines of you'd think she's never seen a teenage girl before and Thalia had actually hummed in approval, so technically they've agreed on a topic, which technically also makes them friends.

"I like the way you think," Percy says, pointing a fry at her, "but that's not really how things work."

"Let her celebrate," Piper chides. "She's new at this."

Annabeth almost tips her coleslaw all over her.

Grover she grows accustomed to. He's a bit funny around her for the first few months – he's either like the girls and scared out of his wits, and thus trying to be as nice as he can around her so she doesn't sprout devil horns and impale him, or he's completely and utterly fascinated. It's like she's a lizard, or grasshopper of sorts – he's both terrified and intrigued at the same time. She does get used to it, though. After all, deep down he's just a big plant boy. He's crushing on Juniper Green, too, which says enough about him, because they're both sweet and soft and green-thumbed, so she supposes he's bearable.

Jason is even worse, though. Annabeth feels like she just may have accidentally done something to have both the Graces hold such a vendetta against her. He is a lot more civil than Thalia, which is quite nice, but he can't even hold a conversation with her. Annabeth suspects it's something to do with the fact that he's Piper's boyfriend and Annabeth has been less than pleasant to her in the past, although personally she thinks with all the good deeds she's been doing lately it should all cancel out and grudges should all be forgotten and whatnot, but the Graces are nothing if they aren't stubborn. Annabeth is pretty sure she could go down on both knees and beg for Jason's forgiveness, even though she hasn't done anything to him (well, nothing bad, anyway), and he'd still be too noble and loving and protective and ignore her on Piper's behalf.

Piper did score well, though. Annabeth hadn't been kidding when she said there was a point she had considered Jason for a potential boyfriend. They could have been the golden couple. They could have dominated together. But it's better that he's with Piper. They love each other a lot and he's much too admirable to do anything as manipulative as Annabeth.

She's glad she's gotten out of her lifestyle, but privately she doesn't regret a thing. Jason would have held her back. She's glad she did what she did, because it's taught her lots of valuable life lessons. One of the most notable being how not to be a twatty arsehole.

Anyway.

Friendships.

She supposes she can't exactly classify any of them as 'friendships' yet, though, because none of their Marks have turned yellow. And Annabeth would know. She checks them almost every day. She's not sure why, but she thinks it may be to prove her mother wrong. Don't get her wrong, she still hates Athena and hope she burns in Hell, along with whatever man she's got trapped in California, but something about her words just stuck.

You're heartless, Annabeth! Your father may have been around more but he sure as hell didn't teach you how to love!

Just thinking of them makes her toes curl. She's not heartless. She can love.

She can.

And just so luckily, for the first time, the universe appears to agree with her.

Her first yellow Mark appears in Piper's bedroom. Annabeth is lying on the bed, her chin propped in her hands, and her ankles crossed in mid-air, and Piper is sat cross-legged next to her, her art book open and fabric scraps everywhere. She's taken art as an elective and one of her projects is to design and then create a piece of clothing, and Annabeth personally thinks she's taking it much too seriously but she's in that mode where if Annabeth tells her that she'd probably twist both her thumbs off and jam them up her nose.

"I just don't know what to make," Piper says. "She's given us so many options. How do I pick?"

"Just make a dress," Annabeth says. "You can be the most creative with that."

"I know." Piper sighs unhappily. "But a kimono looks ever so fun. And so does a jacket. Annabeth, I could make you a new jacket! Imagine how cool it would be. Oh, please, let me make you a jacket."

"Why me?"

"Well, you've got a very nice figure, and Thalia would sooner swallow me whole than let me use her to be a model. And I can't use one of the boys because I was hoping if it turns out nice enough I might be able to artfully borrow it sometimes, and you also live with me so if I make something that I would want to wear it would make stealing it much easier. Please say yes, Annabeth, my whole semester grade is resting on you."

Annabeth rolls her eyes. "Fine, whatever."

Piper beams at her in a way that tells Annabeth that she knew she was going to agree all along. Knowing Piper, she'd probably already have several sketches fit with Annabeth's measurements, too. "Marvellous," she says. "Now this just begs the question as to what to make for you. What do you want – kimono, dress, or jacket?"

"It's your grade, not mine."

Piper hums. "Well, I think I could do more with a jacket than I could with any of the others, and if I really want to make a kimono I can just buy a sewing machine." (That's also another thing Annabeth's still not used to – how fricking loaded the McLeans are.) "Here are all the swatches I have," she says, flipping a few pages in her sketchbook. "Which ones do you like? It doesn't matter if the colour themes don't work, I can just dye them."

Annabeth chews her lip as she examines all of them. Some are simply horrendous – Piper's got a square of hot-pink latex stapled near the top of the page, and there's a piece of cotton patterned with kittens that is just– rotten. Annabeth thinks for a bit before she points to a nice pale pink.

"That one's nice," she says.

"I was hoping you'd say that," Piper says. "Pink looks great on you." She leans over and flips another page, revealing yet another spread of fabrics. "Pick another. Preferably one that works with pink."

Annabeth tilts her head. Eventually, she comes across another swatch, a dark blue denim, that she quite likes, so she reaches over and points at it.

However, in doing so, her sleeve pulls up, and a good section of the inside of her forearm is visible.

Piper gasps. Before Annabeth can even ask what's going on, she seizes her arm and brings right up to her eyes, almost dislocating her elbow in the process.

"You have a yellow Mark!" she screeches.

Annabeth sits up. "What?"

"Look!" Piper thrusts her arm right in her face, and it takes Annabeth's eyes several seconds to adjust, but when they do, she sees that, sure enough, she does. She gapes at it, and then wrenches her arm free of Piper and looks at it closely.

When she sees the initials, despite the pounding of her head and heart, she has to smile. Of course Percy's her first proper friend.

"Well?" Piper demands. "Who is it? Who's the chosen one?"

"It's Percy."

"Percy!" Piper looks furious. "How come he ends up being your first friend?"

Annabeth shrugs. "Maybe I just prefer him."

Piper squawks, so indignantly Annabeth can't help but laugh. "Prefer him! I'm your best friend!"

"Yeah, but you're, like. My only friend, too."

Piper grumbles. "Well, not apparently. That appears to be Percy."

Annabeth reaches over and pats her head. "Don't worry, I'm sure you'll show up soon."

"I better," Piper says. "Otherwise we can't have girly sleepovers anymore and play Game Of Life until three am, because that's only things I do with my friends."

Annabeth starts to laugh. "You're really upset about this."

"Of course I am!" Piper exclaims crossly. "I've put a lot of work into this relationship. We were, like, enemies, and now you live with me and I'm using you for my final grade. I think that's extreme friendship right there. And fricking– Percy just kind of loitered on the side until I pushed him into approaching you. All he had to do was give you some cookies and you two were friends. I had to basically tie you down and threaten you with a knife into friendship. And even that didn't work."

Annabeth laughs harder.

"No, stop laughing at me! I'm really quite offended!" Piper digs through her pocket and resurfaces with her phone. "You know what, I'm actually going to call him about this."

"Oh my God, don't do that–"

Defiantly, Piper stabs Percy's contact and puts him on loudspeaker. It rings three times before he picks up, and as Annabeth is trying to get her breath back the first thing Piper shouts is, "How dare you be Annabeth's first yellow Mark!"

There is a decided silence for about four seconds, before Percy says, "Um?"

"You're her first yellow Mark!" Piper seethes. "And I'm very cross about it."

"Her first yellow Mark?"

Annabeth's eyes widen as she realises that Percy has not been made aware of the fact that she's never had a friend before, but Piper readily barrels on like it's only a minor inconvenience. "Yes, her first. She didn't have any friends before us, we changed her life, yadda yadda yadda, old news. What I'm annoyed about is how on earth you ended up being her first, because I was very nice to her long before you were and I'm just cross. What powers do you have?"

"Is Annabeth there with you right now?"

Annabeth takes that as her cue. She leans in. "Hey, Percy."

Piper splutters indignantly. "No, don't communicate! That'll make you even more friendly!"

"She's a bit jealous," Annabeth says.

"Am not!"

"I see," Percy says.

"How do you do it, Jackson?" Piper demands. "I want to be Annabeth's friend, too!"

"Maybe it's just my devilish good looks," Percy says.

"Shut up, no it's not," Annabeth says. "You look like a lemur."

"I've got devilish good looks, too," Piper says. "And I'm making you a jacket. This is so unfair. What does a girl have to do?"

"Be me," Percy says, almost immediately.

"Shut up, lemur face," Annabeth says.

"That's not how you treat your first friend."

"I swear, Percy–"

Piper just frowns unhappily. "Whatever," she says. "You're no help, Percy. I called you so we could band together and try and solve the mystery that is Annabeth Chase, but clearly you're more interested in other matters."

Percy laughs. "Why are you making such a big deal of this, anyway?" he asks. "It's just a yellow Mark."

"You're only saying that because you're the yellow Mark," Piper says. "I've been friends with Annabeth for years longer than you have."

"I mean. I wouldn't exactly call whatever you guys had brewing between you friendship–"

"I would," Annabeth says.

"Yes, well, you're seventeen and I'm your first friend, so I'm not sure you're really allowed to have a say in this at all."

"Shut up Percy, no one likes you."

"Tell that to your yellow Mark."

Annabeth seethes silently.

Piper just beams at her. "Good, you're fighting. Maybe your yellow Mark will fade and I'll be the first."

"Face it, McLean," Percy says. "She just likes me better."

"Untrue," Annabeth says.

"Again, your Mark would beg to differ."

"I just can't believe this," Piper says, still irritated. "Percy, tell me your secrets. What did you do?"

"I just loved and cared for her when no one else did."

Piper lets out a noise so indignant Annabeth bursts out laughing. "Loved and cared–! I did that! I loved and cared for her! I took her in! I'm literally clothing her!"

"Maybe it just wasn't enough," Percy says. "But I can't really blame her, after all. My charm is irresistible."

"No it's not," Annabeth says.

"You keep denying it, Annabeth, but your yellow Mark–"

"You're useless, Percy," Piper says. "How very dare you. In fact, I'm ending this phone call right now."

Percy starts laughing. "All right, Salty-Pants."

Annabeth also starts laughing, because what kind of an insult is that, but before she can make fun of Percy for it Piper huffs and ends the call, and then tosses her phone onto the bed next to her.

"The nerve of some people," she says crossly. "Honestly."

"Yours will turn up soon," Annabeth promises.

"It better," Piper says sulkily. "I refuse to be shown up by Percy." She flips open her sketchbook again, maybe a little more aggressively than she should. "Anyway. It's not as if I really cared that much, anyway."

"Sure."

"I'm completely serious," Piper says in a voice that says she's really not. "Now, onto denim. What colour did you want?"

(Piper's Mark turns yellow a few days later.

"Finally," she says. "I knew you loved me. And I would also like to point out it's a brighter yellow than Percy's, so clearly you like me better."

Annabeth just rolls her eyes. The sparkle in Piper's eyes and the way she hugs her just that big longer and tighter afterwards tells her that deep down it means a lot more to her than she's letting on. Annabeth understands, though. She returns the hug just as tightly. She know has her two favourite people maybe on the planet tattooed onto her arm and she couldn't be more pleased.)

Percy is around Piper's house when, in the middle of their second round of Monopoly, she smacks her forehead and goes, "Damn!"

"What's wrong?"

"I think I left my Biology homework at school!"

"Why did this come to you in the middle of Monopoly?"

"I was thinking about how you're unfairly good at this and then I went off on a slight tangent about all the other things you're better than me at."

Soothingly, he pats her shoulder. "Well. There, there. I've got a spare sheet in my bag, if you want me to bring it down for you to take a picture of."

"You angel, I knew there was a reason you were my favourite."

"Where is my bag?"

"I think the maid might have moved it upstairs. Be careful, though, the she-demon will have woken up by now."

Percy can't help but laugh as he clambers to his feet. "Annabeth's not that awful."

"You haven't seen her this early. If you thought she was bad at school, in the mornings she's like Jack The Ripper. On steroids."

"It's– ten."

"Your point?"

Percy rolls his eyes fondly and starts to make his way towards the staircase. He's been here so many times that at this point the size and grandness of everything simply doesn't shock him anymore, but just recently Aphrodite changed the banisters to marble and put a red thick rug down the stairs ("she likes to pretend she's walking a red carpet every time she comes down for breakfast") and it still shocks him. Back at home, sometimes they barely have enough money to make ends meet, and at the McLean residence they have so much that on a whim Aphrodite can casually just install a five thousand dollar carpet and fricking marble banisters.

That's a lot. Percy's head gets a bit dizzy as he walks up.

(He will say, it's extremely comfortable. Aphrodite kind of had a point.)

He patters along the hallway when he reaches the top. He's not quite sure where the maid would have put his bags – she has lots of options, which is only marginally terrifying – but at least he knows that he won't walk in on a naked Aphrodite or anything. Her bedroom is upstairs. As are all her 'chambres de beauté'.

(Yes, that's a thing. He's seen them. Every wall is panelled in floor-length mirrors.)

All the rooms down here are spare bedrooms or Piper's bedroom, so he'll be fine. No nudity for him today.

He feels almost cheery as he pokes his head through every door. He can't spot his bag anywhere, but he doesn't feel panicked. The maids are just as wary as him about stumbling across nakedness. They apparently have set hours where they clean Aphrodite's suite, all of which are when she's out of the house.

His cheerful mood comes crashing to earth with a bump when he enthusiastically flings another door open and quite readily realises that this one is occupied.

"What are you doing here?" Annabeth snaps.

"I, uh–" Percy can't speak. He's never seen Annabeth so exposed before – she's not wearing any makeup and her legs are bare, and she's holding a hair straightener in her hand. One side of her hair is sleek, and the other falls just below her shoulders in a mess of curls.

Percy didn't know her hair was curly. She looks pretty with it like that.

Annabeth arches an eyebrow. "Well?"

"I was looking for my bag."

"Well, it's not here."

"I didn't know your hair was curly," Percy says.

"That's a shame."

"You should leave it like that."

That stops her. Only momentarily, but Percy notices. "And why would I listen to anything you have to say?"

"You wouldn't," Percy says. "But it looks nice."

Annabeth watches him carefully, and after several long moments she turns back to her vanity with a shrug of her shoulders. "Yes, well," she says in the reflection of the mirror. She picks her straighteners up again. "Whatever."

She's thrown off by him. Percy suppresses a smile.

"Stop smirking," Annabeth says shrewishly. "You look like a mole rat."

Percy just laughs as he heads out the room. He loves being friends with Annabeth Chase.

It's winter break and Percy has just settled down with his laptop and a mug of hot chocolate when his phone pings with a text.

Annabeth: come over

He rolls his eyes at her straight-forwardness.

Percy: what if i dont want to

Annabeth: I don't care

Annabeth: i have snacks

Percy: so do i

Percy: and i dont have to travel twenty minutes in the freezing cold to get them

Annabeth: plus movies

Percy: again i have those too

Annabeth: i have me

Annabeth: you cant get that where you are

Percy: your intillect outstands me

Annabeth: intellect

Annabeth: truly so does yours

Annabeth: now come over or ill break your arm

Percy: i know you didn't have many friends before us but that's not how you win hearts

Annabeth: percy i swear

Percy: ill be around in ten

Percy doesn't even knock anymore. He slides the spare key out of one of the plant pots and slots it in the door, nudging it open. Quietly, he pads indoors, and shuts the door behind him. He can hear the soft chatter of television from another room. "Hello?" he calls.

Abruptly, the noise stops. "In here."

A smile stretches across his face. He tries to suppress it and heads over to the living room.

He peers around the doorframe. Annabeth is sitting by herself in the middle of one of the sofas with a blanket wrapped tightly around her. The TV is on and paused in the middle of a movie Percy doesn't recognise, but honestly all he can focus on is Annabeth herself. She looks rather cuddly, in a sweatshirt that Percy is pretty sure belongs to Piper and a pair of fuzzy socks, but she's got a cross expression on her face peeping out of the folds of the blanket and she just looks so much like an affronted kitten that Percy can't help but let out a snort at the sight of her.

"Don't laugh at me," Annabeth snaps. "I'll send you straight back home."

Percy rolls his eyes and flops down on the sofa next to her. "What are we watching?"

Annabeth blinks a little, like she was expecting an onslaught of questions before they continued with the movie, but she goes with it nonetheless. "Mean Girls," she says. "It's one of my favourites."

"Go figure."

Annabeth scowls even harder and digs at his thigh with her toes. "You shut up."

Percy laughs and curls his legs under him. "I thought we were having a movie night, you need to be nice."

Annabeth scrunches her nose up. "You need to take your shoes off," is all she says.

Dutifully, Percy slides off his Converse and then wriggles his toes in his socks. He glances at Annabeth and sees her scrambling around for the remote, and hesitates. Then he decides to just go the hog and flings his legs on top of her lap.

Almost immediately, Annabeth shoves them off. "Absolutely not."

"It's a package deal. If you want me you get the snuggles."

Annabeth glares at his legs, like they offend him. "Your feet absolutely pong."

Percy takes that as an invitation to press them against her nose. She positively screeches and swats them away. "I will literally kick you out of this house."

"No you won't," Percy says. "There's a reason you invited me, after all."

He doesn't mean for the mood to sober so quickly but it does. Annabeth stares pointedly at the television.

"The house is big when it's empty," she says, in a hurried mumbly rush, like she's gargling on the words. "So what."

It's almost surreal to know that Annabeth Chase is afraid of being alone. Percy watches her carefully. He knows Piper is away and Aphrodite is in California, and he knows that Annabeth would have been left alone, but he didn't know it terrified her, and he didn't know that's why she invited him around.

The thought comforts him, oddly. Annabeth had thought about everyone, and yet she had picked him because when she is by herself in a gaping house that swallows you up when it's empty she knew that he would be enough to scare away the loneliness.

What are even doing here? You're useless!

He flinches at the memory but it floods his veins with something. Not anymore, he's not. Because Annabeth Chase wants, needs him around.

He clears his throat and reaches for the remote. "So, Mean Girls?"

Annabeth blinks at him. Her eyes shine with gratitude, and then she blinks again and it's gone. She swallows and nods. "Yeah."

"I haven't actually seen this movie before," Percy says.

"You're lying."

"Not at all."

"You haven't seen this movie?"

"Nope. Heard it isn't even that good."

Annabeth's scowl comes back again but it's good-natured this time and something in Percy's chest warms. "Well, your taste must be even worse than I thought," she mutters. "I've got several movies picked out and I don't care what your thoughts are on them, we're watching them. Especially Mean Girls."

Percy picks up the stack of DVDs on the coffee table and absently flicks through them. "Beauty And The Beast," he says. "Pitch Perfect. The Notebook." He looks over at Annabeth. "You're so generic, Annabeth."

"Oh, I'm sorry?"

"These are literally the epitome of chick-flicks."

"There are more."

"Mm." Percy flicks through several. "The Day After Tomorrow?"

"It's a good movie. Sci-fi, dystopian. It's got Jake Gyllenhaal in it."

"Ah." Percy moves onto the next one. "Miss Potter? That sounds boring."

"Miss Potter is a beautiful movie," Annabeth says firmly. "In fact, after Mean Girls, we're watching Miss Potter."

"It looks naff, Annabeth."

"And you look like a strangled partridge, but have I ever mentioned anything? Exactly. Now, be quiet, we need to start Mean Girls if we want to get anywhere near through all these movies."

Percy stretches and stands up. "You set it up," he says. "I'll get snacks."

Annabeth pauses. "Snacks?"

"Well, duh. We're going to be watching hours of movies and I'm a growing teenage boy, we're going to need some food."

"You can't just go through Piper's cupboards."

"'Course I can. I've done it before."

"But it's her house."

"Technically, it's yours too. And will you let me take some snacks?"

"Well–"

"See, foolproof. Besides, Piper steals more than enough food from my house. I'm just repaying the favour." Percy emerges from the kitchen cupboards with armfuls of snacks. He dumps them all unceremoniously on the sofa. There are crisps, soft drinks, chocolate bars, small fairy cakes, juice pouches – it's like a middle school party on steroids. Percy knows Piper won't mind – quite the opposite, actually, her mom always forgets it's just the two of them and buys too much food, so technically if they didn't eat it now it would all just end up in the bin – so without a single feeling of remorse he curls his legs under his body and shoves a straw through the top of his Capri-Sun.

Annabeth stares at him for several seconds, before shrugging and reaching for her own.

The movie starts to play, but Percy isn't paying attention. All he can do is focus on the room around him and the girl beside him and frankly how odd this whole situation is because if you had told him three months ago one day he'd be willingly watching around ten hours of movies with Annabeth Chase he would have laughed in your face. They've never done this before, never had a reason to, and it scares him how natural this all is. They're just sitting on the sofa together, watching the cheesiest chick-flicks of the 2000s Annabeth could find, and Percy's enjoying it. This could be the eighth time they're doing this, from how easy it all is.

He glances over at Annabeth. She's absently sucking at her straw, her eyes glimmering from the TV screen. In the waning light, she looks ethereal.

"Stop staring at me," she says. "I can feel you."

"Sorry," Percy says. He pauses. "Can I have some blanket? I'm cold."

"No."

Percy ignores her and tugs at the end of it peeping out by her socked feet. Surprisingly, she just lets him, like she had expected nothing less. He yanks it a little so he can drape it over both of them, and Annabeth grunts a little at her forced change in position. She grabs a pillow and props it up by her head, leaning against it. Her hair is damp, Percy realises. She's probably just washed it. It smells nice. Peaches and clean laundry. A bit like Piper, actually, but her own smell is somewhere there, too, soft and earthy, like a comforting sweater. She normally sprays herself with perfume so you can't smell it.

Percy absently wonders if that's another one of her security blankets. She hides everything from everyone: her Marks, her family, her history with the soulmate system. Maybe it's become an instinct to hide herself, too.

"Dammit, Jackson, if you don't start paying attention to the movie I will take out your eyeballs and glue them to the screen."

Percy huffs out a laugh and turns to watch the film.

He'll crack her soon enough.

"No way, man," Nico says. "Boulevard Of Broken Dreams was far, far better than Wake Me Up When September Ends."

"But Wake Me Up When September Ends is a classic!" Percy insists. He can hear Grover wheeze as he struggles to catch up with the two of them, but he doesn't even have it in him to slow down. He's just so bemused that Nico could possibly think this way. "It's – it's got so much meaning! It's so personal and–"

"Boulevard Of Broken Dreams is iconic," Nico says. "That bass riff is recognizable from miles away. You can't seriously tell me Wake Me Up When September Ends is even half the song that Boulevard Of Broken Dreams is."

"I so can! I'm not saying Boulevard Of Broken Dreams is a bad song, I'm just saying that Wake Me Up When September Ends is better. I mean, that opening guitar? Come on, Nico!"

And that's when it happens.

To be fair, it was almost inevitable. They were travelling at top-speed through a busy corridor and none of them were paying much attention to each other except each other, which is quite dangerous when you're considered "invisible" and people don't part for you like they do for the likes of Drew Tanaka and Annabeth Chase. Grover in himself is a hazard, too, because he's got his crutches, and when he's trying to keep up with everyone on them he can be quite nightmarish when it comes to spacial awareness, and Nico and Percy are both carrying giant binders.

So when they round the corner Percy accidentally smacks straight into someone.

They both go flying. Nico and Grover screech to a halt in pure as Percy hits the ground, butt-first. He sees a flurry of paper and floral patterns up ahead, so he reckons his assailant has also suffered a similar fate, and immediately he clambers to his feet, gathering his sheets together, his palms sweating. "I'm so sorry," he gushes. "I swear, I wasn't looking where I was going – "

"Oh, don't worry," says a pretty voice, and Percy freezes because whoa. "It was just as much my fault."

Percy slowly looks up. Crouching only a few feet ahead of him, gathering her books together, is none other than Allison Cooper.

Percy's brain spirals into spaghetti.

He can see her talking but all he can focus on is her, because she's so pretty. She's got soft caramel skin and her hair pulled into a ponytail, and she's wearing a flowery blouse with blue jeans and heels, and got glitter on her cheekbones, and black drawings all the way up her left arm. She's so beautiful it's almost painful to look at her.

"Percy?" she says, and Percy realises with a start that she's collected all their papers together and is offering him his binder.

He just stares at her. "You know my name."

She laughs, all twinkly. "Of course I do." She gives him a little sideways smile. "You know mine, right?"

"Yes! Yes, I do, you're Allison, of course I know your name."

She grins and then stands up. Percy scrambles up too, handing her some scraps of paper he had collected in his arms. "Here," he says dumbly.

"Thanks." She puts them all into her binder, and then gives him a little smile. "I'll see you around, Percy."

"Yeah, you. You too."

Percy watches as she disappears down the hallway, her friends flanking her on either side. They're all extremely well dressed, but the only one Percy can focus on is Allison. She just moves so effortlessly, so prettily, that Percy's heart does a funny little jump-flip.

Nico and Grover move next to him. Nico nods understandingly and puts a hand on his shoulder. "Wow," he says. "You didn't choke."

"Or vomit," Grover says.

"I know," Percy says. "That's– good."

"Good?" Nico lets out a whoop and flings his arms out. He nearly knocks a girl over and she glares at him but he ignores her. "Perce, that's terrific, man! That's like! A whole mountain you've just climbed."

"That's almost as impressive as you wooing Annabeth Chase," Grover says. "And successfully, may I add."

"I didn't woo her."

"Platonically."

"You just talked to one of the hottest girls in the school without looking stupid," Nico says. "In fact, I may argue that you were actually pretty suave about the whole thing. That's a big deal! I'm proud of you, dude."

"Thanks." Percy looks at the space where she just was. "She's super pretty, isn't she?"

"I like her red-haired friend," Grover says. "The one who's named after a tree."

"Cherry," Percy says, at the same time as Nico says, "Willow."

"No, the other one," Grover says. "Juniper."

"Why are they all named after trees?" Percy says.

"Allison's not."

"That's because she's the prettiest."

"Uh oh," Nico teases. "Looks like someone's in love."

Percy fights his blush. "I'm not in love."

"Mm-mm." Nico doesn't sound convinced. "Well, we'd best be off. Grover, give Percy a bit of a push. We need to shake him out of his Allison-Cooper-induced-trance."

"Shut up," Percy says, feeling his cheeks heat up. "She's just– pretty."

"Can't argue with that, mate," Nico says. "I just know how to keep my jaw closed."

Percy shoves Nico into a locker for that. He deserves it.

Annabeth's soulmate Mark arrives in History.

She's sitting in her seat when Bianca di'Angelo asks timidly for a pencil, and Annabeth reaches forward to give her one and then her sleeve rolls down and suddenly she sees a flash of red and she nearly drops the pencil because what.

"Annabeth?" Bianca says.

Annabeth wants to scream because how can she still be asking for a pencil in such a time but she doesn't because that would be undiplomatic and it would also get her into a fair bit of trouble, so all she does is shove the pencil into her hands and try and not show her panic on her face. She can sense Piper's gaze on her across the room but she pointedly doesn't turn around, because that would be admitting defeat, and she doesn't want Piper to see how uncomfortable she feels.

They may be friends now but her pride still remains like a big ugly stain.

She knows looking at the Mark will be even worse, so she pretends like she can't feel it searing through her skin like a red-hot iron. She doesn't know what the initials are, but she has a damn good idea, and if she's right, which she normally is, she knows she's going to be so, so, so screwed.

She's just fixed everything up. Her life can't be imploding already.

But she's been brought up an actress and she has a part to play, so she resumes her normal look of disdain. She's honestly surprised she's maintaining it as well as she is. She almost has herself fooled. In fact, when the bell goes, and she meets Piper by the door to head into lunch, and Piper asks, "were you quite all right back there? You looked a bit like a panicked animal", it's almost effortless for her answer to be, "I was just trying to avoid touching di'Angelo. That jacket looked like it was from the nineteen hundreds, I didn't want to catch fleas." Piper just shoves her and tells her, "You big fat cow, Bianca is lovely" and that's that and Annabeth wants to kind of put her head through a paper shredder.

However, all things circle back, in the end. Annabeth is in the library, doing some last-minute revision for her upcoming Geography test, and Piper is sitting with her, doing nothing but being a complete nuisance. She keeps flying paper aeroplanes into the side of Annabeth's head and cutting out various shapes from paper and balancing them on her shoulders, nose, face, head, anywhere she can really get to, really.

It's driving Annabeth absolutely barking.

"Will you stop?" she demands.

"Sorry," Piper says, not sounding sorry at all. "I'm just bored."

"You don't have to stay here."

"I know, that's what makes me such a brilliant friend." Piper sighs and mournfully tosses a ball of paper in the air. She throws it too high and the fan lazily swinging above their head catches it and tosses it several metres over the bookshelves. "Is this really what you spend your good, free time doing? Revising?"

"I have a test."

"And so do I, but do you see me stressing?"

"You scrounge by with Cs, Piper. Unlike you, I actually want to do well."

"Yeah, so you keep saying. I'll be quiet, whatever."

That lasts all but two minutes.

"Annabeth–"

"For God's sake, Piper!"

"I was just wondering if I could borrow a pen."

Annabeth rolls her eyes and moodily flicks her one. To no one's surprise, Piper doesn't even use it. She picks it up, scribbles for what couldn't have been longer than five seconds across her hand, and then switches on her phone and leaves it abandoned on the table. Annabeth tries to ignore her, but it's difficult, especially when ten seconds later she asks, "Do you think it'll be worth it to learn Elvish?"

"I'm sorry?"

"I was thinking about learning it," Piper says. "As a language."

"Elvish?"

"Why not."

"There are so many other better beneficial languages to use. Elvish doesn't actually exist anywhere on earth."

"Then you learn it with me. And we can have our own private conversations and make fun of people without them realizing."

"As fun and totally not mindless as that sounds, I think I'll pass."

Piper slumps back in her seat and scowls. "Fine, then, whatever. I'll get Thalia to learn it with me. I'm sure she'll appreciate it."

Annabeth rolls her eyes again and turns back to her textbook. She probably should have brought Percy here instead of Piper. He'd be nice and quiet for her, but he'd also provide some reassuring shoulder pats whenever something got particularly stressful. He'd probably also have a good supply of cookies, too – he always does, it's something of a habit now. In any case, he'd be bringing a lot more to the table than Piper is, because all Piper is bringing to the table is paper shreds and evil glares from the librarian.

Annabeth tells her just as much.

"Well, that's your opinion," Piper says. "I understand that you're all in love with him and whatever, but you really don't have to slag off your bestest friend just because of it."

She means it completely harmlessly but Annabeth freezes.

Piper notices. Her eyebrows come together. "Hey, what's wrong?" she asks, concerned. "I didn't– I didn't mean it, you're not actually slagging me off–"

Annabeth shakes her head. Everything feels jerky, stiff, like all her joints have been rusted together. "No, um. Don't. Don't worry, it's all good."

Piper peers at her. "Annabeth, you look like you're going to be sick. Is everything okay? Did I say something?"

"No."

Yes. Yes yes yes.

Piper studies her. Annabeth stares pointedly down at her textbook and curses herself. One con to them being enemies for so long is that they know each other's weaknesses and they know when the other is showing it. It's how they've become so good at getting in all the chinks of the armour, how dangerous it used to be. And they're friends now, and Piper paints her nails almost on a daily basis and chats to her about boys and what brand of cereal she likes the best, so it's all okay, but those habits are still there, and maybe they always will.

And sometimes it'll help. Sometimes Annabeth can look at Piper and know instantly what's wrong, and she can silently come nearer with a form of medicine (hugs, movies, food – she's also able to tell which of the above she needs). But now Piper can look at Annabeth and put a diagnosis on it immediately.

Piper's eyes flicker with realization and suddenly she knows. Annabeth shuts her eyes in defeat.

"Roll up your sleeve," Piper says.

"No."

"Denying it is only going to make it worse."

Annabeth swallows. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You mean you don't have a soulmate Mark?"

Annabeth flinches.

"Roll up your sleeve."

"No."

Piper gives her a look.

Normally Annabeth doesn't crack so easily. But she's curious too. With a huff, she pushes her sleeve back up.

"When did you get it?" Piper asks.

"I don't know. This is the first time I've seen it."

"And you aren't freaking out?"

Annabeth laughs drily. "Do you know me at all, McLean?"

The corner of Piper's mouth twitches, like she almost wants to smile. "Can I see it closer?"

"No."

"Fair enough." Piper leans back. "What are the initials?"

"And you think I'll tell you?"

"Just asking."

Annabeth rolls her eyes and takes a look closer at her wrist. She has to get almost painfully close to make out the initials – she's long sighted and absolutely refuses to wear glasses – but when she squints at it and the letters fuzz into vision her heart beats once, twice, and then stops as her breath gets kicked out of her lungs.

To an extent, she thinks she'd always known it was him. It would make the most sense. But she still had prayed that it wasn't. And all her prayers had apparently fallen on deaf ears.

Piper is oblivious. She arches an eyebrow. "Well?"

Annabeth swallows the poison in the back of her throat. "I'm not telling you."

"Mature."

"It's JG."

"Ha ha. Who is it really?"

Annabeth lifts a shoulder. "DL. I don't know."

"Huh." Piper takes a sip of her drink. "Don't take this the wrong way, or do, I don't care, but for someone who's just received their soulmate Mark you do look awfully close to vomiting."

"Maybe you should get your eyes checked."

"Maybe I should. Or maybe you should learn to become a better liar."

Annabeth stills. "Stop speaking like you know everything."

"I don't. Know everything, I mean." Piper stands up and shoulders her bag. "But what I do know is that those letters on your wrist aren't DL."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

Piper stands there for a long time, casually sipping her kale smoothie. Dressed in a ratty pair of jeans and a stained flannel underneath a denim jacket with her hair sticking up in spikes around her shoulders she doesn't pose an immediate threat but behind her flashing eyes there's a brain almost as dangerous as Annabeth's.

It's a fun game to play when you're in control, like angering a lion behind bars. But now Annabeth feels like she's just been dropped in the lion pit because Piper is not meant to know this much.

And now her heart's on the line.

It's getting too risky now. Annabeth is walking a fragile line. Soon it's going to snap.

"You know," Piper says eventually, "you do have a nasty habit of lying about your Marks. It's only going to get you in trouble."

"You don't know anything."

"Maybe so." Piper shoulders her bag. "Good luck with your soulmate, Chase. You'll need it."

Now. Here's the thing.

Once upon a time Percy had lots of Marks. Dozens. They were all little yellow and grey specks, dotted up his arms like freckles. He didn't really pay much mind to them – never needed to, really – but they were fun to have, and sometimes during class when he was bored he'd join them up with markers, like a big connect-the-dots. Making friends when you were small was easy, because it didn't matter what you looked like or how you talked or what clothes you wore, and Percy was far too excitable and reckless to give two hoots what the other kids thought. Which turned out to be a good thing, because the others were drawn to excitable and reckless, and soon Percy had lots of friends. He would smile at the bus driver and the woman at the sweet shop and he learnt to beam extra wide at the old ladies on the train because if he looked cute enough they would give him lollies.

By the time Percy was thirteen, his arms were speckled with colour.

Then something went very horribly wrong, because his first day of high school was extraordinarily crappy and he ended up getting his head shoved in a toilet and his arm broken within the first week. That wasn't really anything that crazy, because Simon from Maths had his nose broken by one of the seniors and that had made him immensely popular, wearing his bruised nose and plaster like a medal, and yeah, Percy had attracted quite the attention after he limped into school with his arm wrapped up, but then the seniors who had done it had locked him in a cupboard for six hours and threatened to break his back if he ever spilled who had broken his arm.

And thus came Percy's fear of, well– everything.

Marks fade after a year if you've lost contact with the person. It's not that much of a big deal – your grey Marks come and go like nobody's business – but when Percy started slinking into his shell and all his Marks gradually faded, he had not talked to anyone except his mom to earn new ones.

It wasn't all misery and heartache, though. Percy eventually found some friends. Mrs Dyers' announcement of his winning exam mark had put him on the map for a couple of people, as he soon found out, when Piper McLean cornered him one day, and with Piper came her boyfriend Jason and his sister Thalia. They were all perfectly lovely, except Thalia, who was a downright pig ("I take that personally," Thalia says) for the first few months, until she had called Percy a freak and he had tipped his fries down the front of her jumper in retaliation because of just how sick of her he was.

That somehow was the turning point. They then became best friends.

("I'm still not quite sure how that means anything," Jason says.

Thalia doesn't look up from her phone. "Don't be jealous. Just because I have a closer, more meaningful relationship with Percy than you do doesn't mean you have to get catty."

Jason squawks indignantly. "Excuse you! I'm the one who has his name as a tramp stamp!")

Grover came a couple of months later. He was a fumbling, acned agriculture nerd with ropey legs and skin worse than his when Percy first met him. They were assigned partners in History and even though Percy is deathly afraid of people and talking to strangers when Grover's eyes started welling with tears during the WW2 documentary they were watching Percy had uncomfortably patted his arm and Grover had taken that as permission to turn and wail into his shoulder about how awful it all was.

He had been a grey Mark on Percy's arm for a while, the first grey Mark Percy had had in years. But then he started awkwardly shuffling up to Percy during lunchtime because some of the ugly seniors kept knocking him off his crutches and making fun of his goat-bleat laugh ("it's not a goat-bleat laugh!" Grover insists. "It kind of is, man," Jason says. "Don't worry, it's cool") and one day Percy had woken up to find it had turned yellow.

Grover cried when he saw it. Percy did too.

Nico came a bit later. Percy's not really sure how but eventually he just started appearing at their lunch table, and at first he was incredibly unnerving because he wore black clothes and had sickly pale skin and underneath all his Metallica T-shirts he had ribs like wire but soon he was okay, another grey Mark, and then suddenly it just wasn't grey anymore. After a lot of discussion no one's really sure how Nico ended up on their table – Piper once called him a lonely ghost that just sailed from group to group until he was happy – but no one really regrets it because now Percy has one more Mark on his arm and a human attached to the initials.

Nico never says anything but Percy knows he's pleased. Nico's always been a bit of a loner, Percy supposes. He has Marks – hundreds of them – but most of them are grey. He doesn't have lots of friends, and neither does Percy, but Percy thinks that makes the Marks more meaningful. He is one of the nine yellow Marks on Nico's collarbone, and Nico is one of the seven on his arm, and together they both know that to them it means just that bit more.

Point is, the Marks on Percy's arm hadn't come easy, and he values every single one of them because for every yellow set of initials it means that he's coming one step closer to being normal.

And now he has a red Mark.

Thus bringing us to now.

"Who do you think it is?" Grover asks. "I mean, AC. How many girls have you met with the initials AC?"

Percy shrugs hopelessly. He's lying on his bed, staring up at his ceiling, and Grover is sitting on his desk chair, his legs awkwardly splayed on either side, and his crutches propped against the wall. As soon as Percy had seen the soulmate Mark on his arm he had flapped around a bit and then immediately called Grover, the person he felt he could come to for anything. Grover wasn't very good for advice, because it would always end up being "maybe you should stop eating meat" or "have you ever tried yoga?" or some inevitable freak-out that wouldn't do anything except potentially make matters worse, but he was one of Percy's best friends in the whole world, and Percy knew that if anyone would judge him, it most certainly wouldn't Grover.

"I don't know," Percy says. "This is so complicated. Why does it have to come now? Does the universe want me to crash and burn?"

"You mean more so than you're already doing?" Grover asks, completely serious and concerned.

Percy doesn't even have it in him to feel insulted. He just groans and rolls onto his stomach, burying his face into his pillow.

"Hey," Grover says, poking him. "Maybe it's Annabeth."

Percy peeks one eye out. "What drugs are you on?"

"I mean it, Perce. What other ACs have you talked to recently? Besides, you two absolutely adore each other. You're like, married now. It would totally make sense for it to be Annabeth."

"Yeah, but I don't like Annabeth," Percy says, turning his head properly so he can look at him. "Not in that way, anyway. We're just friends."

"Are you sure?" Grover asks. "You two look pretty couply."

"Me and Jason also look pretty couply, but we're not soulmates."

"Yeah, but Jason doesn't have an AC on his arm," Grover says. "You do. Come on, Perce! This isn't a coincidence!"

"It's not Annabeth, okay?" Percy says, his voice edging on hard. He doesn't like getting angry at his friends; he hates it, and he also generally thinks his friends are perfect beings who don't really ever have reasons to be angry at, but now he just wants Grover to shut up. To be honest, he isn't really sure what these feelings towards Annabeth are. All instincts in him are telling them it's a crush, but it can't be, because they're friends, and also as if Annabeth will ever see him as anything more than that.

Which is fine, by the way. There is no problem with her seeing him as a friend. Because they're– well, they're friends and that's how friends see friends – as friends.

He's afraid if Grover keeps bringing Annabeth up he might begin to believe that the AC on his arm actually is her, and he won't allow himself to think like that because that's just giving him wings made of tissue paper.

Grover notices the edge in his voice. With one final look, he drops Annabeth.

"Fine," he says. "Who else could it be? It has to be someone you talked to, or even looked at. Did you see anyone on a bus or anything?"

"Definitely not on a bus. I can't do that, remember?"

"Right, I forgot, crippling anxiety." Grover sits back in his chair and chews thoughtfully on his carrot stick. "Well, I can't really offer much, man. All you know is that you've looked into her eyes and her initials are AC, and seeing as that narrows it down to exactly no one, we're kind of–"

Percy suddenly shoots up. "That's it! Grover, you're a genius!"

Grover blinks. "I– am?"

"I just remembered! I know who my soulmate is!"

Grover doesn't stand up, because without his crutches he practically can't, but he grips onto the chair and stares Percy wildly in the eyes. "Who?"

"Allison Cooper!"

Grover almost chokes. "What?"

"Remember, when we bumped into her in the corridor? She's an AC, and I looked at her in the eyes!"

Percy stares at Grover's face, trying to catch even a glimpse of joy, but oddly, he looks–almost upset. Percy stops rejoicing and frowns. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"Allison Cooper?"

Percy stops. Grover is saying her name like she's a venomous animal. "Yeah?"

"You– Allison Cooper's your soulmate?"

"I mean, I think so. Why do you look so gloomy? Come on, man, this is a big deal! It's amazing! I'm so happy!" Grover doesn't look any more pleased so Percy grabs his hands and starts dancing around, pulling Grover to his feet. Grover shakily stumbles around and dutifully lets himself be dragged around as Percy whoops and hollers, but he doesn't look happy in the slightest. It does something funny to Percy's heart, the fact that he doesn't approve. He's always counted on his friends to be there for him through the good and the bad, and now, in the very good, Grover looks sad, like Percy has somehow disappointed him, and that's maybe the worst part.

Percy drops his hands. Whatever. This is a big moment. He's not going to let Grover ruin it for him.

"I need to tell my mom," he says eagerly. "I need– I need to tell her!"

Grover doesn't say anything, just wistfully watches him. Something irks at the back of Percy's head, but he pushes it to the back of his mind. He bursts out his bedroom, shouting, "Mom! Guess what!"

He pretends he doesn't see Grover type something out on his phone. Everything is falling into place for him. He's not going to let Grover ruin it for him.

It's not an unusual occurrence for Piper to burst into Annabeth's bedroom at random intervals of the day with a mildly panicked look on her face, so when it happens today Annabeth doesn't even glance up from her laptop screen. "I moved the fire hydrant into the laundry room," she says absently, glancing at her notebook and typing up a few words. "And the leftovers from last night are in the back of the fridge behind the tomatoes."

But Piper doesn't respond, and that's the moment Annabeth knows it's serious. She looks over the rim of her laptop and sees Piper, with wet hair from her shower, in a pair of fuzzy socks and stripy leggings, and she's staring at Annabeth with such a terrified look for a second Annabeth is genuinely afraid someone has broken into the house with a knife.

But thankfully – or unthankfully, however you decide to interpret it – there doesn't appear to be a break-in or a potential ax murderer prowling the lavish carpeted stairs, because Piper's first words are, "What are the initials on your soulmate mark?"

Annabeth laughs mirthlessly, half in relief, half in nervousness, and turns her attention back to her laptop. "Yeah, no."

"Annabeth, please."

She closes her laptop and sighs. "Why? What do you want from me?"

"It's important, Annabeth. Please."

"I don't care."

"You might soon." Piper climbs onto Annabeth's bed, right next to her, and holds out her phone. "Read."

Annabeth rolls her eyes, but she takes it anyway and looks at the screen. It's an open text conversation between Piper and Grover, and for a second Annabeth wonders if she accidentally showed her the wrong thing until she starts to read, and that's when her heartbeat begins to pick up.

Grover: piper piper red alert

Grover: percy got his soulmate mark but it's not good

Grover: it's not good at all

Grover: piper please call me this is not good

[voice call at 16:24]

Annabeth looks at Piper. "Percy got his soulmate Mark?"

Piper takes the phone from her. Her expression is grim. "Guess what the initials are."

Annabeth thinks she might already know. "Piper..."

"AC." Piper drops her phone. "His fricking soulmate initials are AC, Annabeth. And guess who he thinks they belong to. No, don't even guess, that's how pissed I am. He thinks the AC stands for Allison Cooper."

"Allison Cooper?"

"My reaction exactly!" Piper collapses against the headboard, staring up at the ceiling. "This is useless. His soulmate can't be Allison Cooper, she'll rip him to shreds."

"I didn't even know they knew each other."

"Yeah, well, apparently so. Grover told me they bumped into each other in the hallway that day. Percy seemed a bit smitten but Grover said he just thought it was, like, a momentary thing. He didn't think he'd go and get a soulmate Mark with her initials on it!"

Something hot burns in the pit of Annabeth's stomach. Jealousy.

Jealousy has never been a good look. That was one of the first lessons Annabeth taught herself. Jealousy is hot and it seeps in at your heart until every part of you is just vile, but this year has all been about trying new things, apparently. She made some friends and she doesn't smirk menacingly at freshmen anymore but with friendship comes falling in love and getting icky crushes and being jealous of her successors.

Allison Cooper isn't even that pretty.

"I..." Annabeth can't even speak. "This is so weird."

"It's so wrong, that's what it is." Piper nervously looks at Annabeth, and then takes her hands. "Annabeth–"

Annabeth knows where this is going. She extracts her hands and slides off the bed. "No."

"Annabeth, please!"

"I can't. I won't. I refuse."

"You need to tell him. It's not a coincidence, Annabeth–"

"Did Grover say anything about me?" Annabeth demands, and Piper's face crumples. "Percy's not dumb, okay. If his soulmate Mark says AC I would have crossed his mind at least once, but there's a reason he thinks Allison Cooper is his soulmate, and not me. What did Grover say?"

"Annabeth–"

"What did Grover say, Piper?"

Piper sighs. "He– Percy says that you're just his friend. And he'd never see you as anything else."

Annabeth holds out her arms. "See?"

"That doesn't mean anything!" Piper climbs off the bed. "Please, Annabeth, just listen to me, you need to hear me out. Allison Cooper will tear him apart. She won't be good for him."

"And you think I'll be better?" Annabeth says softly, and Piper flinches because it's the first time they've ever directly addressed the letters on her wrist. "Piper, I'd be worse."

"So your initials are PJ."

Annabeth doesn't respond.

"You wouldn't be worse," Piper says. "The soulmate system doesn't make mistakes."

"Tell that to my parents."

"They outgrew it. That doesn't make the system wrong. At first, they were in love, because they got married and had you. Then they got older and outgrew each other. That's sometimes what happens. But the soulmate system isn't wrong."

"What if Allison has a PJ too? Some things aren't just coincidences, Piper. She could really be his soulmate."

"She's not," Piper says. "I'm one of his closest friends. I know Percy. She'll seem right for a while, but she's not. They'll begin to grate soon, because they're just not right."

"Then all we need to do is wait."

"That's not what I'm worried about. Percy is going to be so high off the idea of someone loving him that he won't see the signs. It'll be a long time until he realises, and there's a lot of space in a long time for mistakes to happen. Allison will slip up, and it will hurt Percy bad."

"Me telling Percy I'm his soulmate won't change anything, Piper," Annabeth says softly.

"I know." Piper sighs. "God, Annabeth, I know, I just hate it."

Tentatively, Annabeth walks over to her and puts her arms around her. She's no good with sympathy – she's normally the one wreaking the havoc, you know, tearing down buildings, being a good metaphorical Godzilla – but Piper doesn't appear to care. She latches onto her like a safety blanket.

"He's going to get hurt," Piper whispers.

"I know," Annabeth says. "But we all are, eventually."

"Not Percy."

"Even Percy. It's part of being human."

Piper sighs, like she knew the answer all along. "I hate being human sometimes."

"I get you." Annabeth pulls back. "But we can't really do anything about that now. We're going have to watch him fall in and out of love and then we're going to have to help him in the aftermath and we will do that, won't we?"

Piper nods adamantly, before she's even stopped talking. "Absolutely."

"Then you've got nothing to worry about. We all need to get a bit battered sometimes to survive the real world."

Piper smiles, a little half-hearted. "Poetic."

"I try." Piper's smile falters a little so Annabeth grips her shoulders and looks at her in the eyes. "He'll be fine, Piper. I promise you. Maybe not during it, but he'll make it out alive. He's come this far, hasn't he?"

"I guess."

"Allison Cooper's always been the nicest."

"That's not saying a lot, Annabeth. Every one of those girls is ruthless."

Annabeth tries for a joke. "Even me?"

"Especially you. Well, not so much anymore, but you were dangerous. And all of those girls looked up to you, for some reason."

"My fantastic cuticles."

"You pick your cuticles, you animal, but that's not even the point. If you were their role model God knows how they've turned out to be. You were a bit of a psychopath, Annie, and I mean that with all the love and care in the world because actually after a bit of affection you scrub up quite nice. But you were brutal. And I learnt to deal with it because we weren't friends and I took nothing you said to heart because why should I have cared about anything you did to me? But Allison's Percy's soulmate, and that's deadly, because she's close to him and he loves her." She pauses, deflating. "Not many people figure it out, but you're smart, so that's why I was at first scared about letting you near Percy. It's why we all were. But you know that it's not the fact that he only has six Marks that makes him vulnerable, don't you?"

Annabeth nods.

Piper runs a hand through her damp hair and sighs. "It's the fact that he's just so aware of it," she says. "You know that he falls a little bit in love with everyone he meets. It's just a Percy thing. And it's vice versa, I suppose, because look at you, you're practically soulless and he's already made history. He loves everyone on his arm. He loves them so, so much, because they're the only people he's got. And that's dangerous, Annie."
Annabeth already knows where this going. She swallows.

"He's gonna love Allison just that little bit more, because she's his soulmate, and he loves the idea of having someone who will unconditionally love him, but if she's even half the person you were I don't even want to know what's gonna happen to him."

"He'll be okay," Annabeth says, but even she's not sure she believes it.

Because the thing is, Piper is right. Annabeth was terrifying. She still can be. She's just learnt that in order to get through life you can't just manipulate people. And without a shadow of a doubt she was better than every single girl in that group. But she's grown up and so have those girls, and Allison was the nicest but, next to Annabeth, she was also the deadliest. She was almost Annabeth's apprentice. She's seen how Annabeth works, learnt the tricks of the trade and how to get people to break, but she's not dumb, because growing up in a group like that you learn your own things.

Annabeth was better then them because she was smarter. But Allison is also smart, and she has her own knowledge and also everything Annabeth taught her.

If Percy's not careful, he's soon going to be trapped in the bullring in a red suit. He's already hanging by a thread. Allison won't hesitate to rip him to shreds.

God, Annabeth hopes he'll make it out alive.

a/n if you read to the end i love you (and there's more to come too gosh can you imagine)

please tell me what you thought! pt2 should be up on sunday! i love you guys x