Chapter Text
"Going out," said Grover from the door. "Want anything?"
"Are you meeting Juniper for pizza?" said Percy, his ears practically perking up. "Bring me a slice."
"Yeah man," Grover waved a free hand and hurried out of the dorm, keys and a can of diet pepsi in the other hand.
"Be back by 11!" Percy yelled in a falsetto.
"You’re not my mama goat, Percy!" said Grover before slamming the door.
Percy grinned, settling back onto the couch (if you could call it that—Rachel called it a lump of fleas, which to Percy made it sound like a particularly inanimate dog.) It was a weeknight, so there was definitely some studying in his near future, but there was a new episode of the Walking Dead on his TiVo to watch, so he flipped on the tv and scrolled through the miles of shows. Most of them were nature documentaries, and the majority of those were about goats living in the Alps. Grover seemed to really like those.
After an hour’s worth of feeling sufficiently nauseated, Percy turned his attention to the ever-dreaded biology textbook that sat on the top of the pile of textbooks on his desk. He’d take a zombie any day. Groaning, he let it thud open to the middle section and began, the minutes ticking by slowly.
It seemed like an eternity before the door opened and someone dropped onto the couch behind him. Percy didn’t turn around to look. “Hey, man,” he mumbled from behind the pencil. “Brought me pizza?”
There was no answer, only a long moan. “Did you eat jalapeno and barbeque sauce pizza again?” said Percy. “Because you know you have a weak stomach. And just because someone sells it doesn’t make it quality food, dude. You have to stop.”
The only response was another groan. “Well I’m not eating it for you,” said Percy, turning around. “Maybe Luke—” he stopped. Lying face-down on his small, duct-taped, ratty sofa was a kid with long, curly blonde hair. Percy’s eyes widened and he swore under his breath.
A snore emitted from the whereabouts of the head, which was entirely obscured with a mess of curls. Percy looked at the door, which hadn’t been shut, just to see if he was on candid camera. Nope. Carefully, cautiously, he prodded the kid’s shoulder. No response.
"Hey," he said, prodding harder, and then giving the kid a shake. "Hey! Dude. Wake up." He shook their shoulder harder and harder until they finally awoke with a jerk. "Whazzup going on?" they slurred, and then turned around to face him, sleepy-faced and drooling with some hair strands in their mouth. Percy laughed in surprise. "You’re that girl from biology!"
She stared at him in confusion.
"Percy, remember?" he said.
Her eyelids began to close of their own volition.
"No—hey—look— why are you here? Don’t you live in the girls’ dorms?"
She smacked her lips and stared at him like she’d never seen another human being before. Then, unexpectedly, her eyes began to fill. “Screw FarmVille,” she whispered.
Of all the things he’d expected to hear from her, that was not one. Her breath reeked.
"Are you drunk?" he asked.
"ARE YOU?!" she wailed, and pulled herself into a sitting position, tears streaming down her face. "Why is everyone so mean to me?"
"Oh…" said Percy, not knowing what to do. Should he hug her? Was that appropriate to do when someone was drunk? "No—no, no no—don’t cry—please—"
"This is all his fault!" her hair fell into her face as she leaned forward. "I SAID I wanted the purple one, but did he care???????? NO!?"
Percy laughed a little uncertainly. “I think you need to go home,” he said. “You’ve obviously had enough—”
"ENOUGH OF YOU!” she sobbed, and then flopped back down on the bed.
"Heyyy," said Percy, scooting over to the tiny couch and awkwardly patting her back. "It’s okay."
Her sobs quieted and she turned around so that she lay supine next to him. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I bet you’re a really nice person. You probably are on level 9 of Candy Crush. Why can’t I beat that stupid game?!” More tears streaked down her face.
"I bet you’re really good at Candy Crush," he said kindly, folding his hands. "But, you know, I bet your roommate is worried about you. What’s her name? Piper?"
She sniffed. “Are you going to arrest me for being drunk?”
Percy tried to hide his laughter. “No way, man.”
She attempted a watery smile and let a hand fall on his arm. “You’re so polite.”
"Thank you. But we should probably call Piper."
Her eyes filled with tears again. “No way!! You’re mean!” And fell into renewed wails, interrupted suddenly with, “I don’t feel good.” Percy’s eyes widened again, and he grabbed her by the waist and hauled her over to the toilet, where without ado she emptied everything she had eaten that day. He held her hair back and tried not to breathe at all.
When she was done, he carried her back to the couch.
"What’s the name of your dorm?" he asked.
"Aspen," she mumbled from under the blankets.
He stared at her in dismay. “That’s on the other side of campus!”
"JUST WHOSE SIDE ARE YOU ON?" she snapped, and then got teary again. "Sorry."
He sighed. “It’s okay, just—just stop with the crying, I can’t do crying.”
She got even more teary. “I’m sorry! I’m a terrible girlfriend.”
That got him, and he tried to restrain a smile. “Are you my girlfriend now?” he asked as he looked up the phone number of the RA of the Aspen dorm.
"We’re in love now," she said sleepily from the couch.
"Just how much have you had to drink?" he said, bouncing on his toes as he waited for the call to go through.
"Five puppies. Maybe twelve."
He nodded. “Right.”
The RA didn’t answer the phone, which was fair, since it was 3 am.
"Please don’t make me leave," whimpered Annabeth. "I thought we could trust each other."
"Okay," said Percy. "I’m going to go to bed now. You have your pillows and blankets, and in the morning you’re going to go back to your dorm and sleep off your hangover. Okay?"
"Okay," said the disembodied voice under the mountain of blankets.
The door opened and Grover came slouching in. He groaned loudly, swinging around to shut the door. “Percy, I got the jalapenos and hot sauce pizza—” he began, then stopped as he saw the mound under the sheets on the dumpy couch. “Dude,” he said slowly.
Percy gestured at him to be quiet, and tiptoed over. “It’s that girl Annabeth from biology,” he said in a low voice. “She’s way drunk.”
Grover wrinkled his forehead. “Annabeth? Like, Annabeth Chase? No way, she’s like the last person I’d expect to see drunk.”
Percy nodded emphatically. “I know! It’s weird. She just showed up and was, like, crying about farmville or something.”
They spent a moment staring at her, a large lump under the mountain of blankets. Grover shrugged. “Well, I’m going to bed. ‘Night.”
"'Night," said Percy, almost absently as he looked on. Slowly, after a long time, he turned and climbed into his bunk.