Chapter 74 - The Lonely Hearts Club
published: Saturday, 9 January 2021
Time Frame: mortal AU; American high school senior year
Synopsis: The messy senior year of high school where it's nearly impossible to keep track of who's sleeping with whom.
Author's note: This is the first chapter in a new story I've just published, so be sure to add the book to your library from my profile to get the next few updates!
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Ba-dum.
Annabeth's heart slammed against her ribcage at a steady rhythm, more deafening than the shouts from her teammates on the sidelines.
Ba-dum.
Thing was, she wasn't even playing for anything tangible. Well - pride. And in some ways, that was more important than any trophy.
Annabeth stared at the soccer ball at her foot, lying in wait as she poised herself to sprint forward and, hopefully, spring it into the corner of the net.
Ba-dum.
The goalkeeper was standing at the ready, gloved hands out and determination scribbled in his features. "Alright, alright," Coach Hedge barked. A hush lulled the soccer pitch. "Be quiet."
Annabeth clenched her jaw, tuning out the whispers behind her head. This was just like any other penalty shot. She'd made about thirteen penalty shots in games and over a hundred in practices. This shouldn't be any different.
Except that Percy Jackson was standing directly in her eyeline, weight shifted to his back foot and the most infuriating expression. Amusement - and it made her want to punch him in the nose.
Percy Jackson and his stupid, stupid jersey that hung off his frame, with an emblazoned "10" on his back, the white print stark against the red material. The same "10" that was splayed across the back of Annabeth's own jersey - Chase, 10. That was her number.
Except it might not be anymore.
Annabeth took a step forward. The split second where her foot hovered in the air ran in slow-motion. In her peripheral vision, Annabeth saw Percy's lips tug up in a fashion that should've been illegal. A smirk - a scoff, even. Why try, his body language screamed at her. I'll beat you at every turn.
His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip before disappearing just as quickly.
The toe of her boot dug into the ground before the ball and Annabeth knew it was over. A sick feeling crawled into her stomach and wrenched her gut out; the ball flew towards the right corner, right into the goalkeeper's waiting hand.
For a desperate moment, Annabeth allowed herself to hope that Will would fumble. He deflected the penalty shot that should've been an inch higher with the tips of his fingers, the ball rebounding out of the net before it could cross the goal line.
Annabeth wanted to scream. Yells erupted behind her; cheers mixed with frustrated groans.
"Well," Percy said, lips curving into a smile. He spread his hands. "I mean." His teammates engulfed him, clapping him on the back in congratulations.
Annabeth's hands curled into fists, her jagged nails digging into her palms. "Fuck."
"Hey, it's fine, you were so close," came Bianca's sympathetic voice. The other girls were walking up to her.
"It's not fine," Annabeth said sourly. "He gets to wear the number 10 during games. Now I'm stuck with a lousy 28."
Clarisse eyed her in a way that made her skin crawl. "Should've made that shot."
"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.
Being different genders helped in this case. They never had to be on the same team. Sports lessons involved their friends exchanging wary glances anytime they got too competitive, but Annabeth never had to see Percy for more than ten minutes a day, whether it was to play ridiculous pranks on each other or to fire off a nasty comment.
Until this year. When Coach Hedge informed that of the co-ed soccer tournament that they were participating in. And Annabeth got that - she was all for gender equality, was sure that she was better than half the boys' team anyway - except that now Percy was always there.
Coach Hedge had made them co-captains, made them share an armband that they would alternate from game to game. It was like he wanted them to kill each other.
To make matters worse, Annabeth had to give up her jersey number to Percy, of all people, which was a bigger blow to her ego than she liked to admit. And she had to see Percy for significantly more than ten minutes a day - almost daily practices and parties with the soccer team. How was she supposed to work with the one person she hated more than anyone else?
She finished the five laps barely needing to catch her breath, having overtaken everyone else somewhere along the way. It was pure adrenaline fuelling her at the moment. That, and sheer detestation of a certain green-eyed soccer player.
Percy was running today's practice, which Annabeth had been angry about earlier but was now glad for because it gave her the chance to take out all her pent-up energy on him and not look like a bad captain.
As they ran drills, Annabeth tricked the ball around Luke Castellan before deliberately passing it off to Beckendorf instead of Percy, who was standing about half the distance away from her.
Percy's mouth twitched, but he didn't say anything, and Annabeth answered with a shrug. He kicked the ball at her, which she deflected with her forearm and an eye-roll. "That's why you're in midfield, Jackson," she snorted.
"What, instead of being a glory-seeking attacker like you?" he retorted.
Beckendorf and Katie, who were on their team for this practice, exchanged nervous looks.
The team ran short matches against each other for the rest of the practice. It was their first one since the last school years, and their first time playing together as a team of boys and girls, so it went without saying that they had a lot to work on.
In the back of her mind, Annabeth knew that she should be trying to improve their teamwork rather than mess with her co-captain for two hours.
But she couldn't help it. Percy refused to even pass to her - and she was their forward - instead running the ball up to the goal himself and shooting. It went in, but Annabeth didn't care, stalking up to him and demanding, "What the hell? I was open! I was right there!"
"I made the shot," he snapped.
"They have five people on their team," Annabeth scoffed.
Percy rolled his eyes. "Don't be bitter about losing to me twice in a day. It's not a good look on you."
Annabeth ground her teeth together frustratedly. "Break," she spat. "I'm getting water. Let me know when you're ready to stop acting like a five year-old." She turned her back on him, heading for the benches.
Behind her, Percy yelled, "Yeah, that's rich, coming from you."
The practice felt like it was dragging on for an eternity, and Annabeth found it almost amusing how Percy could turn a sport she loved into her worst nightmare.
But the clock eventually struck 6 o'clock and it was safe to say that everyone was relieved to be done.
Yeah, this is a team, Annabeth thought to herself.
"I expect to see you all here tomorrow at 4 - sharp!" Coach Hedge yelled. "Latecomers do a lap for every minute they missed. Chase! Jackson! Grace! I need to speak with you!"
Annabeth knew what was coming. Coach Hedge had been shooting them disgruntled looks all practice. He was usually laid-back when it came to what they did in their own free time and whatever drama was going on between players, but he looked pretty ticked to her right now.
Jason Grace, one of the attackers on the boys' team, lagged behind her and Percy as their other teammates filed off the pitch, shooting them apologetic looks.
"Grace, you wait," Coach Hedge instructed.
Annabeth hovered by Percy's side, impatiently waiting to put as much distance between Percy and herself as she possibly could.
"The two of you," Coach Hedge said sternly, swivelling to look between them. "What the hell was that?"
"What the hell was what?" Percy repeated.
"Don't act stupid, Jackson," Hedge snapped. "You two are supposed to be the team captains. What I just saw out there was a near murder being committed."
"Then maybe we shouldn't have been made co-captains," Percy reasoned.
"Yeah," Annabeth snorted. "Feel free to give up the mantle to me."
Percy shot her a look that could kill. "Oh, you just think you're so fucking brilliant-"
"Hey!" Coach Hedge barked, slamming a hand on his clipboard. "Come on!"
She and Percy stirred but they remained silent as the coach stared them down. Annabeth felt a pang of something close to guilt in her chest. Hedge coached both the girls' and the boys' soccer team. He knew them separately - had picked them as respective captains for their own teams - and Annabeth was very aware that his opinion of her was dropping by the second.
"Look, I don't care how good either of you are at playing," Coach Hedge said firmly. "Anymore arguing during a practice and neither of you are starting next match."
Annabeth's jaw dropped. "What?" she demanded. "You can't-you can't not start a captain-"
"In-fighting isn't something I concern myself with except for when you bring it onto my pitch and let it affect my soccer team," Coach Hedge growled. "I know both of you are looking for sport scholarships, maybe even to get spotted by recruiters. I can promise you that they won't give you a second glance if you aren't a team player, no matter how well you can kick a ball."
He turned a forceful gaze on them. "Are we clear?"
"Yes," Percy muttered as she nodded stiffly.
"Good," Hedge said gruffly. "Now go away. I don't get paid enough for this."
Annabeth stalked off, making sure her steps were wide enough to leave Percy in the dust. Grabbing her towel and water bottle, Annabeth took off towards the girls' locker room, pointedly ignoring Percy's presence at her heels.
When she got to the empty changing rooms, Annabeth released a yell of frustration. She swore under her breath, leaning against the row of lockers.
Today had been a shitty day so far and then Percy had gone and made it even shittier.
God, she couldn't-she-"hate" wasn't enough to describe how she felt about him.
Annabeth loathed Percy Jackson.
Her thoughts were jumbled in her own furious haze and she rinsed herself off in the shower before tugging on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, towelling off her hair into a damp, frizzy mess.
Annabeth shoved her things into backpack, her vision tinged red, unable to form even a coherent thought. The idea that she might not get to start during their first tournament match because of Percy Jackson was ridiculous. She couldn't let him ruin anymore of her life than he already had.
She left the locker room, having cleaned off and gotten dressed at the speed of light, and started heading towards the school parking lot. Bianca and Clarisse were probably waiting to give her a ride home as they always did after practice.
Annabeth stopped in her tracks, the locker rooms a few feet behind her. Bianca and Clarisse could wait for five more minutes.
Sweeping back around, Annabeth burst into the boys' locker room with the energy of a hurricane.
"What the hell?" Percy yelped, having just zipped up the fly of his jeans. A white t-shirt lay across one of the vacant benches and his hair was still dripping from the shower.
"You messed up my shot!" was all Annabeth managed to get out, almost shouting at the boy across from her.
Percy's face contorted. "What?"
"My penalty shot!" she continued furiously. "You messed up my shot!"
Percy scoffed. "I won fair and square. How could I have messed up your shot?"
Annabeth tossed her bag to the side, seconds away from tearing her hair out. "You-you looked at me!" she nearly screeched.
"I looked at you?" Percy retorted. "You're being ridiculous."
"Shut up!" Annabeth growled, stalking towards him. She didn't quite know what she was aiming to achieve here, but Annabeth simply had too much bottled-up anger to go home and 'forget about it'. "You know you fucking messed up my shot!"
Percy whirled around, bringing them face-to-face and leaving a mere few inches between them. Annabeth reached up to his nose, and she suddenly became extremely aware of his shirtlessness.
Fuck. What was she doing?
Her hair was still wet, a few strands that had dried curling around the front of her face. Percy was close enough for his breaths to fan across her cheek.
And then they were kissing.
Annabeth didn't know how it happened. She didn't know who stepped in first, maybe she tilted her head up or maybe Percy swooped down for the kill, but that didn't matter because they were kissing.
They kissed like they did everything else - like they were fighting for something.
Annabeth didn't know who initiated the kiss but she did know that she was responsible for what happened next, and as if she'd suddenly gained the gift of hindsight, Annabeth knew that she was going to regret this for the rest of her life.
But she did it anyway, reaching her hands into his hair to tug her down into her, pulling him in to deepen the kiss. Percy gasped into her mouth, and then he was stepping backward, propelling Annabeth forward, before he spun them around and her back hit the lockers with a metallic clang.
Annabeth groaned against his lips, fumbling for the hem of her shirt and pulling it off in one smooth go, tossing it to the side where it would lay forgotten.
"What are we doing?" Percy whispered, even as he fumbled with the buttons on his jeans.
"I don't know," was all she managed to get out before they were kissing again, and this time, neither of them paused to speak.