HOLY MOLY THIS IS INSANE I HAVENT UPLOADED IN A YEAR WTF BUT YOU GUYS ARE STILL REVIEWING AHH I DONT DESERVE THIS BECAUSE IM ROTTEN FOR NOT UPDATING SO I LOVE YOU ALLLL SO SO MUCH. but yes its been a year and lots of stuff happens in a year, and I started this story when I was 13 and I'm nearly 16 and I find that ridiculous so Im definitely going to start updating more :P And I have multiple concussions at the moment so updates will come more often XD ENJOOOOY

Ps. Im changing the name of this story to something more suitable later on, so just a heads up.


Fists and kicks were flying everywhere. A right hook to the jaw, then a jab to the nose—which really hurts by the way—And you could tell it was a fair match.

Luke was a strong opponent, I will admit that. You could tell he had trained all summer for the upcoming track season because he was at the peak of his physical condition. His lithe body made a good and sneaky offense, but he didn't have the best defense. So when he did hit me, it hurt like a bitch, but I could easily analyze where he chose to hit. After a while I started to pound on him even harder because all the tricks he had were easily deflected. He tried to grab at my neck and I brought my left up to block it, twisting it back until it was about to pop out of its socket.
I reached for his throat and in one swift movement threw him onto the ground, holding him there with an angry rage. He sent kicks flying from under me and into my gut, but my grip only loosened a tiny bit as he winded me. He was gasping at this point, and I caught my breath just quick enough to say, "Stay away from her." I coughed out and gave another twist in his arm for good measure, positive that I did something to his shoulder at the sound of his growl in pain.

He looked like he had enough, but I wanted strangle him right there and then. But as I looked at his face, his lips turning blue and his eyelids slowly coming to a close, I knew I was better than that. I ripped my hand away from his throat and sprung up to my feet quickly; squatting in a fighting stance in case he wanted to throw a few more hits. All he did was double over in a coughing episode as he tried to regain his senses. My chest was heaving in choppy breaths, but my eyes piercing into him to anticipate if he was going to make another move.

Slowly, Luke made his up to his feet and stood with wobbly footing. He returned my glare with a smirk between his bloody lips and growled out at me, "Next time, Jackson, things will be different." He turned and cradled his shoulder, limping toward the sound of the party.

I simply shook my head and emitted the layer of fear that his last words had on me and kept my eyes locked on his disappearing figure. Once he was out of sight, a sigh of relief made its way out of me. And so did the adrenaline. I hadn't realized that the metallic taste of blood was on my lips—a cut lip, it felt like-or that a piercing pain jabbed at my chest every time I inhaled a breath, or that I could barely stand on my left ankle. My vision started to blur and I stumbled before falling to my knees. I fell onto my hands and held myself there as I gritted my teeth in pain, when I heard a small yelp.

It wasn't me this time. It was Annabeth.


Percy was hurt.


Not as bad as Luke, but I couldn't care less. I ran up to him and threw one of his arms around my neck, using all my strength to stand him up. He was huge compared to me, more than half a foot taller and his body was rock hard. This wasn't too good in my case. I could tell that he wanted to do his best to make it easier for me to lift him up, but it was still really difficult. All I knew was that I needed to get him out of here and away from the party where Luke's boys were probably waiting for him.

Blowing the hair out of my face, I looked around for an outlet. A small pathway from the rubble into the woods was well hid by a few bushes, and I started to make our way toward it. A few groans would escape Percy's lips and I couldn't help biting my lip at the intoxicating sound.

I mentally smacked myself in the face, feeling like one of his fan girls. No, I Annabeth Chase will not swoon over Percy Jackson. Not ever.

But for some reason, a part of me knew I was lying to myself.

When we started to make our way into the trees, I could tell that Percy needed to sit down. He was panting and the weight on his limping foot only seemed to cause him more pain with each step. "We need to sit," I said, glancing over my shoulder and at his sea green eyes. I had to tear my gaze away before I began to stare into them.
Nice and slow, I lowered Percy onto a moss covered rock and leaned his back against the tree behind it. A sigh of relief escaped him and a half, tired smile stretched across his face. "Thank you, Annabeth." He whispered in a huff as I knelt in front of him and started to check his wounds. I returned a small smile and mumbled back, "You're the one who saved me, remember? Now let me check where it hurts." No objection came from him and I decided to start with his ankle.

Slowly and tenderly I started to peel his shoe from his foot and a wince came from him. When I brought down his sock, his ankle was swollen and it looked like a bad sprain. "It's just a sprain. But you should get it checked out anyway. I can-.." Percy rested his hand against my shoulder and made me look up into his eyes. I never noticed how intense the shades of blue and green could be, especially when they were so focused on mine.

"He's no good." He stated simply, but the look in his eyes poured so much more depth into the three words. I knew something was going on between Luke and Percy. And I had a gut feeling that it had to be pretty horrid for them to nearly rip each other apart like that. I didn't say anything for a while, but tried my absolute best to not falter under his earth shattering famous green-eyed gaze. I don't think anyone could really get used to it.

But even I was surprised when I got angry.

"You don't think I couldn't piece that together on my own? You know, just because I'm not utterly disgusting in yours eyes anymore, doesn't mean that I lost the ability to think!" The snarl ripped through my throat before I even knew what was going on. The only thing I could see, hear and feel was the white-hot blind rage I had been holding in forever now. Sure, I forgave him, but I never really got to let out the anger that tends to boil over years of endless ridicule.


I stood on my feet now for the effect of me towering over him, so he could seem as small as I felt because of him for the past three years of my miserable high school life. "And another thing," I snapped, my voice rising along with my tempter, taking his frozen and utterly dumb and gaping expression as cue to continue without bother. "I want to answers! I want to know why you stopped talking to me freshman year and pretended like I was dirt beneath your shoe, not your best friend that you knew I was! AND I WANT TO KNOW WHY, IN GODS NAME, ARE YOU THAT SHALLOW TO REALIZE I SEE RIGHT THROUGH YOU LIKE I SEE THROUGH THE REST! I KNOW YOU'RE ONLY TALKING TO ME NOW THAT I'M NOT COMPLETELY HIDEOUS! I KNOW THAT YOU DIDN'T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT MY EXISTENCE BEFORE! I KNOW!"

I was crying now. Frustrated tears. Tears that spilled without warning me. I was breathing heavily and glaring at him with gritted teeth and balled fists. I hadn't said the truth out loud yet, and it felt good. But not as good as it was humiliating. It was humiliating and heartbreaking to know that no one cares about me; but only the way I look. It was disgusting, at the very least.

Percy only stared at me, his expression unreadable once he finally closed his stupidly gaping mouth. I knew he was going to go on some stupid apology spiel, or not say anything at all until I walked away, or even make some stupid joke out of everything I just said. That's what anyone else would do. Anyone else who could see me this vulnerable and this angry. From trial and error, I learned the hard way that there weren't that many decent people in the world. So it was easier just to anticipate the worst in them.

So that's why what Percy did next took me utterly by surprise.

A slow and fierce intensity broiled in his eyes, making my fury ease slightly for the new wave of anticipation that coursed through me to know what was going on in his head. Then, slowly, he stood up regardless of his bad ankle so that I was no looking up at him, his body inches apart from mine. He took my face in his hands to steady it in front of him and wiped away the tears from my cheeks with his thumb, staring at me with that trademark gaze. But this one was different. There was so much agony, guilt, and intensity in his eyes that it was my turn to turn frozen, eyes wide in place.

He was dominating me with the simple act of gazing into my eyes, taking utter control of the situation, and I'm ashamed to say that I utterly succumbed to him.

But the beautiful words he spoke were what caught me off guard the most.

"Annabeth," he breathed in a soft whisper just loud enough for only me to hear. "I don't care how you look, don't you see? I was the ugly one. You didn't deserve anyone of that. I changed freshman year into that ugly, ugly…Thing that didn't give a damn about anyone but himself. And why? Because I didn't have you anymore. I didn't have my best friend anymore because I ruined everything. And... And I missed you so much that I thought the only way I could talk to you again was to hurt you. To get any feeling from you at all. And I hate myself for it. So much. But you have to know this, because you were never ugly. Not for a single moment. You hear me?" His eyes didn't leave mine for the entire time he spoke. They were intense and determined for me to understand. How could I not?

I was completely breathless. All the rage and fury and hate I felt were completely stripped away. Why I was I being so weak? So vulnerable around him? Why did he have this effect on me that no one, not ever, seemed to be able to obtain? It was frustrating all the same, but I couldn't even be angry about it. All I could do was gaze at him, and I didn't know how long we stood there for. Nor did I care. All that mattered were the things that he said, and how easy it was to trust him.

"Oh… Oh Percy…" I finally mumbled, and before I could think rationally, I threw my arms around him in a tight embrace; just as if we were kids again. And with the once lost, but distant familiarity of his strong arms around me, I knew.

I trusted him. I now considered Percy Jackson my friend.