Annabeth is eating the single worst chicken wings known to man. Can British people do anything right other than fish and chips? Now that she thinks of it, the smarter move might have been to get the fish and chips, but what kind of person eats fish and chips at a soccer game? From her experience as a Hooters girl, she knows for a fact that wings are a mandatory sports food.
She could go back and get the fish and chips. It's not her money anyway.
"Annabeth, there you are," Percy says, huffing and puffing. He's pulling their massive shared suitcase behind him. Good for him. Annabeth can't say she thought of that when she went after the storm spirit.
They speak at the same time.
"You can't run off like that!"
"Do you want a shitty wing?"
Percy raises an eyebrow. "You ran off for food? Seriously? Do you not realize we're on a potentially time-sensitive mission?"
"I mean, yeah, but we don't even know-"
"And we haven't even come up with a plan!"
"All we were told was that the next phase of Pothos's plan would be happening in Europe, so I-"
"And you think getting wings is a valuable use of our time right now?"
Annabeth just shrugs. "I think better with food in my stomach. You should try it sometime."
"So you have no plan?"
"No, but I have wings."
"I don't want your stupid wings, Annabeth!" Percy yells.
"They're kind of gross anyway-"
"I want a plan. I want a plan that's going to get us somewhere that's not here and that's going to get me home in time to celebrate my birthday with people I actually want to be around."
Annabeth rolls her eyes.
Before she left New Rome with Percy, she overheard Leo telling his son Jason old demigod stories. Leo tends to exaggerate—monsters don't cower at the mention of Percy's name—but the tale of how they captured the literal goddess Nike made Annabeth realize that Percy changed too. Sure, Annabeth's the one who grew up into a Hooters girl, but Percy went from catching Nike to barely being able to catch a fly.
She knows that the latter is true because he spent an embarrassingly long couple of minutes trying to swat a fly on the plane. His clapping kept waking her up. Now she's hungry and tired.
She takes another wing out of the flimsy container and takes a bite.
"Annabeth?"
She takes a long sip of her beer and then says, "We have come so far only for you to be a dick."
"That's not fair and you know it."
"Except it is fair. You invited me on this quest. We've already established that I have changed since we were kids. You knew what you were getting when you invited me. I'm sorry that I'm not some plan robot. To be honest, I don't think I ever was." Damn, that felt good. She finishes off her beer.
Percy stands there like a confused idiot—which he is—and stammers for something to say.
"I'm going to use your credit card to buy another beer while you figure that out," Annabeth says, waving the card she stole earlier in the air. If he's going to be this way, the least he can do is buy her a drink. "And for the record, you've changed too."
There's the stinger that gets him talking. "I mean, of course, I have, but I'm not-"
"Not what? Not happy?" she asks. "I don't know a ton about your issues other than what you told me in our swimming pool therapy session, but I don't ask because I know it's none of my fucking business."
"Annabeth, I-"
"So if you could show me an ounce of patience, that would be great. That's the only way this thing is going to work."
Don't turn around, don't turn around-
She fucking turns around and he's making that face—the one that's a cross between a baby seal and a child who's just been denied desserts. He used to get this way when Annabeth would use a plastic straw for her soda instead of a reusable one. She has ADHD. She couldn't remember to bring her reusable straw to restaurants if her life depended on it.
But god, that face kind of makes her want to capture that pouty lip between her own, and maybe bite down for good measure.
Holy shit, something is wrong if she's thinking about her ex-boyfriend like that. When was the last time she got laid? It's been a couple of weeks. That's like a dry spell for her. Yeah, she's just in the middle of a dry spell.
"Okay," Percy says. "You're right."
Annabeth never really considered that she might have a praise kink until this moment, but she does love feeling smart.
He continues. "I'm sorry. The whole thing with Pothos has just got me on edge. I mean, I don't even know that much about the guy; his Wikipedia page is so small."
Speaking of small, Annabeth remembers something Marty McFly said before being carried away by harpies.
"Thanks to my alliance with Pothos, you've been too clouded with pleasure to see what's going on around you."
That would explain why she's been having these invasive thoughts. Hell, she couldn't even engage with Percy on the plane ride here. Two attractive people should not be in a small space together.
Shit, there she goes again. She can't be thinking about her questing partner like that. That's just weird on so many levels.
Percy sits down in a stadium chair and leans forward, which doesn't help Annabeth's case. "I shouldn't have pressured you like that. But-"
There's the but.
But I've realized that because you can't give me what I need from you, you're no longer valuable.
But I've realized that your issues go way beyond what I can manage in my life right now and I'm not ready to take that on.
I'm leaving you because I'm uncomfortable with my masculinity and I can't handle a strong woman.
I know I promised we were a family, but I'm going to recruit an army of demigods and monsters to fight alongside Kronos... and I'm leaving you.
I'm leaving you.
She's used to it, but does he really have to leave her in a foreign country? Can he maybe drop her off at the airport?
Percy sighs. Oh god.
"Just get this over with," she mutters under her breath.
"I can be patient. We don't have to have the whole plan ready today, but we need to find someplace to start."
"That starts with giving my body sustenance," Annabeth adds, pointing a hot wing at him.
"And," Percy says, "you need to take this seriously."
He's the one that invited her on this quest. Using Frank and Hazel's all-expense paid honeymoon to take down a minor deity was his idea. She's just the guest. If he didn't want her here, he could have ditched her back in New Rome.
And because he could have ditched her back in New Rome, there has to be a reason why she's still on this quest.
A small part of her is almost giddy like Percy invited her to come on this quest because he wants her, and she likes to be wanted. She wants to feel wanted.
This is just Pothos messing with her head again, though. The part of her head that's thinking right says that she's here because Percy thinks she can figure out how to defeat Pothos and Marty McFly, or that she'll remember something from her encounter that'll put the pieces of the mystery together.
"I can't promise that," she says with a breathy chuckle.
Percy stands up and extends the handle on the suitcase. He wheels the thing down the pathway and then lets it clunk on the stairs. He doesn't turn around to see if Annabeth is following him.
She tosses her empty container and holds a hand over her beer so it doesn't spill.
"Don't worry. I'm right behind you," she deadpans. "I didn't need to see how the game turned out, and I'm definitely not the one with your credit card. Hey! Dumbass! Slow down!"
Percy stops and says, "We're leaving. And don't call me that."
They approach the gate only to be stopped by a security guard. "Open containers can't leave the stadium."
"We don't have a- C'mon, really, Annabeth?"
"Oh, excuse me," she says, putting the cup to her lips.
"Just throw it out."
"No way, I paid for this."
"With the New Rome credit card!"
Annabeth hasn't chugged this much beer since that one time she tagged along to a fraternity party with Will and tried to prove she could hold her alcohol. She woke up in the backseat of Will's SUV with one of the worst hangovers ever.
"Can I keep the souvenir cup?" she asks the guard.
He nods and waves her out.
And as soon as she steps foot into the street, she realizes that she may have just come up with Europe's next hottest gameshow. Sure, the quest isn't all fun and games, and it's becoming increasingly harder not to notice Percy's jawline that could probably slice her hand open, but neither is exactly pressing right now. She's thinking of something more along the lines of American Ninja Warrior.
Walking across cobblestones while tipsy is hard even with Percy's arm right there to latch onto every time she stumbles, but imagine if this was competitive and televised.
That being said, Annabeth could mop the floor with other drunk cobblestone walkers and win the hundred thousand dollar prize—minus taxes.
Percy picks up the suitcase so as not to scrape the wheels against the harsh road. "Okay, so I'm thinking we find a place to regroup so you can sober up-"
"I'm not that drunk."
He rolls his eyes and continues speaking. "Fine then. For reasons that may or may not have to do with you chugging a beer in under a minute, we're going to get a room for the night and scan the news for signs of anything off."
Like a child in a classroom, Annabeth raises her hand.
If Percy rolls his eyes one more time, they're going to fall out of his head and get stuck in the cobblestones. "Yes?"
"I have to call work and let them know I won't be in for the rest of the week."
"Okay? So do that. I'm not your babysitter."
Annabeth scoffs. If he's not her babysitter, then why is he acting like it?
Her sneaker gets caught in the cobblestone and she falls forward. Against her will, she cries out when her ankle is twisted in that one place that just hurts like a bitch. This is what she bought those high-top sneakers for, but then again, they probably can't do much to help an ankle that may or may not be already broken.
She chooses to pretend that Percy wanted to catch her, but couldn't because he has poor reflexes or something.
"I'm okay," she says even though he didn't ask and even though her ankle is definitely not okay.
"Maybe if you hadn't started drinking as soon as we left New Rome this wouldn't have happened. Or have you not stopped drinking since the wedding?"
Maybe if Percy hadn't woken her up at the ass-crack of dawn to leave, Will would have had time to make sure Annabeth didn't break her ankle.