Percy Jackson One Shots and Short Stories

#74 - The Lonely Hearts Club (AU)

"Is that helpful right now?" Katie demanded. "Lay off her."

"No she's right," Annabeth said through gritted teeth. She forced herself to look at Percy, who was exchanging what were, without a doubt, arrogant comments about winning. "Got distracted." She glared in his general direction.

"It's not the end of the world," Bianca tried for positivity. "You'll only have to switch jerseys for tournament games. You can still wear the "10" during our usual season."

Annabeth crossed her arms. "Not the same. Can't believe I lost to Jackson. What an ass. I'll never hear the end of it." Her bubbling anger was hard to keep under wraps, but Annabeth was doing a pretty good job, considering she hadn't broken out into a violent rage yet. "Might go impale myself on a pole now," she mused.

"Okay," Coach Hedge shouted. The man's voice was loud enough that he didn't even need a megaphone. "That might've been a good way to start the day but you cupcakes need to start putting in some work now. We're up against Northshore in a couple weeks and none of you have ever played on a team together."

"Yes, we have," Matt Sloan said pointedly. "Just not with them." He gestured to Annabeth and the four girls surrounding her, disdain in his features.

This time Reyna really did have to hold Annabeth back, grabbing her wrist and yanking her back into place before Annabeth could start forward.

"Don't get yourself kicked off the team," Reyna murmured. "He's not worth it."

"You're telling me that seeing Sloan with a broken nose isn't worth it?" Annabeth hissed.

To her credit, Reyna did experience a millisecond of hesitation before she said, "Not if you get yourself kicked off the team and give him exactly what he wants."

Annabeth glared at her. "Okay, I can't argue with you if you're gonna be completely logical about this."

"Five laps!" Coach Hedge yelled. Groans erupted amongst the players. "Anymore chatter and that'll be seven!"

Every step Annabeth took round the pitch gave her a steady rhythm to pace her thoughts to. She should be thinking about game strategy, but about 50% of her mind was preoccupied with Percy, Percy, Percy.

He messed up her shot. He knew exactly what he was doing. That look he'd shot her right before her foot hit the ball. Licking his lips right before she kicked the ball. Dickhead.

"Chase," a whisper in her right ear jolted her out of her reverie.

Annabeth gnashed her teeth together as Percy jogged beside her, keeping pace.

"Check the number," he sing-songed quietly. He sped up, overtaking her and leaving the huge "10" in her sight. Percy threw a last smirk over his shoulder, and it took everything Annabeth had not to sprint up and slap it off his dumb face.

"He's not worth it," came Reyna's warning.

Annabeth found it almost impossible to swallow down her anger, but she did.

She knew Reyna didn't understand, didn't get why this mattered so much. Frankly, Annabeth knew she was being stupid. Except that this wasn't just about a jersey number.

This was about the rivalry she and Percy had kept up since the first week of high school, when they played soccer in their first sports lesson and they'd ended up tumbling down the pitch in a wrestling match.

The teachers had realised to separate them after that.

Annabeth had been playing soccer her entire life. She'd been training for the team since she was a child, and then Percy decided that, no, soccer was going to be his thing too, and swooped in with an unfair amount of talent for someone with a personality equivalent to a shrivelled celery stick.