Chapter Text
Percy didn’t know how he’d gotten here, and he still hadn’t decided if it was a good thing or not, but he was currently sitting in the back corner of the library across from Annabeth Chase.
She’d shown up out of nowhere one day, only looking away from her book to correct a teacher on the pronunciation of the name of some dead guy. The teacher had looked down his nose at her and sniffed before declaring that she was to be his partner for the rest of the semester.
It was a common enough punishment—he was the so-called problem kid after all. It didn’t matter that he literally couldn’t make heads or tails of the words he was supposed to be reading, all that mattered was that he couldn’t sit still in class and he had a tendency to drift off.
He’d learned very early on, their first class where they were stuck together on a discussion worksheet, that Annabeth was more stubborn than he was. Percy hadn’t known such a thing was possible and his mom had only given him a knowing smirk when he’d complained about it over dinner.
Percy set down his backpack and pulled out the book they were doing their project on. He hadn’t read it, but he’d stared at the cover long enough he was pretty sure the shades of red and blue were burned into the back of his eyeballs.
“Did you look at the rubric?” Annabeth asked.
He sighed. She had dyslexia too, surprisingly. But instead of letting it stop her, Annabeth just seemed to take it as a challenge she refused to lose. Percy wanted to be like that, but there always seemed to be something that stood between him and books. His mom said he’d find one he liked, but he knew that even she was starting to lose hope.
She frowned. She’d stopped glaring so harshly on their third assignment. Percy considered it a win. “Sparknotes?”
Percy shrugged. He’d opened them, but skimming would be far too generous a word for what he’d done.
“Do you want to do well?” she asked, looking like she didn’t know what to make of him. “We have to do well on this project. I can’t get a bad grade, I can’t.”
“We’re not going to get a bad grade,” he said, leaning over his still unopened book. “You’re smart. This is the highest grade I’ve had in a class in years. Seriously, you’re doing amazing.”
Annabeth blinked. “I—really? Your highest grade?”
He nodded, not thinking much of it. “But fine, tell me what to do,” he said. “I am yours to command.”
Her cheeks became the prettiest shade of pink he’d ever seen. “Oh.” She cleared her throat. “Well then. We, uh, need to make a poster.”
“About the book?”
She kicked him from under the table. From her, it was almost a display of affection. “Duh,” she said. “Sometimes I wonder if you have anything in your head at all.”
Percy grinned. “I knew you liked me,” he said. “My mom used to always say I seemed to be part fish when we used to go to the beach. Maybe there’s some truth to that.”
Annabeth hummed, tilting her head as she seemed to contemplate his words. “Not part fish,” she decided. “Seaweed. Seaweed brain, that’s what you are.”
He felt his eyebrows rise impossibly high on his forehead. “Seaweed brain?” he asked. “That’s the best you can come up with?”
“Don’t say that like it’s an insult,” she said, slamming her book down on the table. “Like you could do any better!”
“I could!” he claimed, sitting back and crossing his arms over his chest. “You think you’re so smart? I should start calling you wise girl.”
Annabeth’s grey eyes narrowed, but her cheeks only darkened more. It felt like a victory. Percy smiled wide. “See?” he asked. “Not so bad, am I?”
“Whatever,” Annabeth said, rolling her eyes. “What do you want to do for the poster? It’s supposed to be about the main character.”
Percy flipped open his book and his eyes landed on the first word that looked like a name. “Nately?”
“No.” Annabeth turned her computer around. “Yosarrian.”
He hummed, trying to pretend like he knew who that was. “Yeah, totally.”
“You’d like him, I think,” she said. “If you ever get around to reading it. But for now, you have the better handwriting of us.” Percy thought it hurt her to admit that. “You wanna start on the poster? I can figure out what to write?”
He shrugged. “Works for me.”
She, of course, had everything they needed.
A few minutes passed, and he hadn’t done anything more than written their names in the bottom right corner. Posters always made more sense to him than books did anyway.
“Can you draw?” he asked. “Pictures could help.”
Annabeth looked up from the page she was reading. “Not really, but it’s a good idea. There’s a line on the rubric for visual. You any good?”
“I can throw a doodle together,” he answered, thinking to the endless pages of his notebooks.
“Perfect.”
Percy was pretty sure he wasn’t imagining the small smile on her face.
They fell into an easy pattern, and Percy had way too much fun looking up planes from World War II.
At one point, she looked over with wide eyes. “That looks really good.”
He grinned and flipped the marker he was holding. “Thanks!”
“You know?” she said, after about an hour had passed. “We have other classes together, right?”
He nodded. He’d watched her during their math class, entranced by the way she seemed to just understand what the teacher was talking about.
Annabeth took in a deep breath. “Do you want to work together in those too?” she asked. “If we ever have group projects.”
It felt like the start of something great and Percy felt like he was smiling bright enough for the sun. “That’d be awesome.”