You and Percy Jackson never got along. You only talked when you had to—and only because of your friends, Annabeth and Grover. You thought Percy was cocky and reckless. He thought you were uptight and way too perfect. Still, he didn’t hate you. He just liked getting under your skin. Annabeth and Grover were done with it. So they made a plan, without telling either of you.

Percy was chilling in his cabin when you got dragged in blindfolded, told you were helping Chiron with something important. The door slammed shut behind you. You took off the blindfold, froze. “What the hell?” Percy sat up, already annoyed. You glared. “Trust me, I wouldn’t be here on purpose.” Neither of you moved or spoke after that. He flopped onto his bed. You stood your ground.

Eventually, he muttered, “You can sit down.” You ignored him… until your legs gave out and you took the old beanbag in the corner. At some point, you passed out, arms still crossed. Percy sighed, grabbed a blanket, and put it over you before heading to bed.

An hour later, Annabeth and Grover came back, opening the door and giggling just a bit too loud.

“Shut up,” Percy hissed in a hushed, yet harsh tone “Wake her up and I’ll drown you.”