Making Waves

Chapter 15

Percy knew people were staring at her. She could feel their gaze drift to her form and linger for a few seconds, before they averted their eyes and approached the counter. Seeing a figure hunched over a table, face firmly pressed down against a pair of crossed arms wasn't really the strangest thing Bludhaven residents saw on the day-to-day. Still, it didn't stop them from giving her weird looks.

"You're scaring my customers."

Percy felt the shadow block precious sunlight from the window. She raised her head for the first time in twenty minutes, blinking blearily until Brenda shifted into focus, crossing her arms. The woman was raising her eyebrows, unimpressed by Percy's moping.

"They've seen worse," Percy retorted, and dropped her head into her arms again, but turned it sideways so she could still see the other woman.

"At least buy something," Brenda huffed, "I'm not a charity."

"That's exactly what you are," Percy mumbled into her bicep, "And I need help."

"What kind?"

"Emotional support."

Brenda sent Percy the blandest look she had ever seen before returning to the espresso machine to fulfill orders. Percy sighed, long and dramatic, and switched directions to look out the window instead. People walked by, most of them in their own little worlds paying little attention to the girl staring intently at their moving forms. A few glanced down, and met her eyes with confusion or apprehension before hastily continuing on. Percy couldn't find it in herself to feel embarrassed about being caught people-watching.

All of her personal shame was focused on one thing, and one thing only. Well, two things.

"Oh seaweed brain," a very familiar voice called out, "What have you gotten yourself into now?"

Percy whipped her head around immediately, locking in on her best friend. Annabeth smirked down at her, grey eyes shockingly pale in the sun. Slung over her shoulder was a large leather satchel, bursting at the seams with dark blue pages. She set it down on the floor, pulling the chair across from Percy out to take a seat.

"I'm so screwed, wise girl," Percy whispered, shaking her head.

Brenda approached again, a glass of iced black coffee in hand, and flashed them a sharp grin.

"Nice to see you again auntie," she said, setting down Annabeth's usual.

"Shut up," Annabeth replied, eyeing the glass warily, "It's unflavored right?"

"Of course."

"And unsweetened?"

"Yes," Brenda rolled her eyes, then threw out once more, "auntie."

Annabeth glared at the woman's retreating figure, taking a cautious sip of her drink. The last time she had visited, Brenda had purposefully slipped in six pumps of hazelnut syrup and Annabeth had spit it back out onto the woman's apron. They got along well like that. Percy wasn't sure what had sparked the animosity between them, but she had to admit, someone other than herself pushing Annabeth's buttons was kind of funny.

"I hate her," Annabeth muttered, even after the coffee turned out to be exactly what she wanted, with a special type of disdain reserved solely for siblings and sibling types, "It's like she enjoys making me suffer. Are we sure she's a cabin 6 legacy?"

Then she sucked through her straw, attention back on Percy, and raised an eyebrow.

"What did you do?"

Percy pressed her lips together, refusing to expand. Saying it out loud would make it real.

"I didn't come all the way from San Francisco to sit here and watch you make faces at me," Annabeth gave her a deadpan stare, "Spit it out."