nineteen

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edited: april 2, 2021; oct 23, 2023
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"I just wanna make it clear that there is time for us to grab lunch or breakfast at a hot chicken place tomorrow," (Y/N) tells the group as she pulls into a diner's parking lot.

"There's a place, like, ten minutes from a motel," Percy informs, looking at his phone. "And there's vegan stuff for you, G-Man."

Grover grins. "Perfect. We can stay the night, get our food, and then hit the road again." 

(Y/N) does a small fist pump in victory.

She parks the car, and the four teenagers get out, walking over to the door of the diner. A bell jingles as they push it open, and smiles rise to their faces at the smell of the food cooking. They sit at a table, thanking their waiter and looking over their menus before telling him their choice of drinks. However, the worker, who seems to be no older than seventeen, looks at the ripped sleeve of (Y/N)'s leather jacket with interest. 

Noticing his attention, she looks up at him and provides a simple lie: "Great Dane."

He nods, looking at (Y/N) up and down before giving her a charming smile. She glances at his wrist and responds with a quick upturn of her lips before looking back to her menu. Her shoulders loosen as the waiter walks away in her peripheral vision. Percy and Grover both glare at his back while Annabeth chuckles. 

"I think he likes you," the daughter of Athena teases.

(Y/N) scoffs. "He's not my type." Percy smiles at this, and Grover huffs, nodding fiercely.

"What do you mean?" Annabeth asks, looking at the waiter as he picks up a tray behind the counter. "He's kind of cute."

"He's a rich kid who's only working here because his parents didn't want him to flaunt their money around. He doesn't earn anything for himself and is using this job to try to get with girls."

"Okay, then, Sherlock," Grover quips, referencing the nickname from the incident at the emporium.

"How could you possibly know that?" Percy asks in surprise. (Y/N) looks up at him, opening her mouth to answer when the waiter comes back again.

"Here are your drinks," he says, setting them down one at a time. (Y/N)'s eyebrow twitches at the flash of white that she sees under her cup when he sets it down. "Are you ready to order?"

The group tells him what they'd like, and (Y/N) feels his gaze constantly on her. When she tells him her order, she keeps her eyes away from him, showing her disinterest. He takes their menus, walking back to give the orders to the chef after sparing (Y/N) one last glance.

"Anyway," she starts, looking at Percy again, "he has a Rolex watch on. Or a really good dupe of one, anyway. He can't buy that with the pay he earns here; and with his age, he couldn't have had a job for long anyway, meaning his parents got it for him. How do I know he's all about getting a date? He's flirting with those two girls at that table right now." 

They turn to the booth she gestures at, seeing that the waiter is, indeed, smiling an award-winning grin as the two teenagers in front of him blush furiously.

"And if I'm right . . . ah, yes"—(Y/N) picks up her glass of (Y/F/D), sliding off a slip of paper stuck on from condensation—"he put his number here for me."

Grover's fists clench. "That—"

"Grover, it's alright," she cuts him off, chuckling softly. "I'm not going after the guy, anyway." (Y/N) holds out her hand with the slip of paper, looking around the diner to make sure no one is watching. "Boom," she says, discreetly burning the strip in her hand and brushing off the ashes. 

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