NEVER BE THE SAME . . . percy jackson

five: the promise.

THIS IS FINE. This is normal.

That was the mantra that consistently repeated in Brooklyn's head when she went on her tiptoes for a kiss from Percy or when he ducked down to kiss her in front of, like, half the school.

She liked being kissed by him. She didn't know what to do with that information. Something must've gone wrong in her brain because now she couldn't sleep without imagining his lips on hers. Maybe he was a drug, but it was too late to stop getting addicted now.

Of course, doctors wouldn't say that, but it's not as if Brooklyn actually listens to her doctor.

"Brooklyn," Percy drawled as soon as she walked into the gym. She immediately looked up, alert, despite the grogginess she felt because, as amazing as she is, even the great Brooklyn Hayward got bogged down. By getting literally no sleep because of volleyball practice and homework. And, you know, waking up to the weird world that was black and white and gray, but the only red lines — she figured they were tied to someone's mortality because she'd been in it while fighting a monster and after tearing it apart, it had died when she was back in reality again — she'd seen were around her.

The one wrapped around her pinky that was connected to Percy was still there, always a constant. There were some leading below, some to the Underworld, or Xander, maybe, and some she didn't know. And some arced to the sky, because she's a child of the sky and it would always be the place she felt safest.

Ugh. Just thinking about that place made her see it, with the stark red lines and her smoky body, only solid where the lines connected her to the mortal world. Lately, it's been happening more frequently. Brooklyn didn't know why, but then a voice in her head told her: the Hayward ring. Put it on when you get home.

The voice made her go back to reality, where Percy was holding onto both of her hands, squeezing them tightly to bring her back to reality. "You're back," he said, his expression relieved. "You really should get that checked out."

"No," she simply said, because they've been over this before, and he doesn't believe the lies she tells him. She really doesn't care; though she wonders why it happens. It's not as if she can ask her father, because he never talks to her. Perks of being a daughter of Zeus, she thinks bitterly, not for the first time. When Percy tells her about why Luke betrayed them and decided to, you know, let Kronos host his body, she understands why he hates the gods. She hates her father too.

Speaking of Percy. Right, she should be talking to him. He's her boyfriend, after all. "This is what happens when you full name me," she told him, letting go of one of his hands to rub at her eyes. But she doesn't want to let go of his hands fully. Not yet, anyway. His hands were warm — his body temperature constantly changed, must be a son of Poseidon thing or something, even though the ocean's hella cold — and it felt nice in her hand. Comforting.

"It sounds nice, though," he said. "Brooklyn. Brooklyn. Brooklyn."

She let out a strangled, uncomfortable laugh. "Are you trying to summon a demon or something?"

Percy shrugged. "I mean, if you want to . . ."

"Summoning demons sounds cool," she pursed her lips, thinking about it. Then she also shrugged, letting the idea go. "I'd rather leave that to the experts, though. Maybe if I'm in the mood, though . . ."

He wrinkled his nose. "Do not."

"WARMUPS, PEOPLE, GET MOVING!" Their gym coach yelled, and Brooklyn jumped, biting back a curse or fifty. Who decided that they had to have gym at eight in the morning? Son of a bitch, that's what that person was.

"Come on, Dumbo," Percy let go of her hand, smirking at her. "Race me."

She sent him an identical smirk. "Oh, you're on, Maui," she started running off, laughing maniacally when he yelled after her, sprinting to catch up to her.