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can you believe ppl are still debating the frazel discourse as if itâs controversial.... like as if a 13 year old whoâs literally going through the beginning stages of puberty should be dating a 16 year old whoâs half way through high school
Annabeth Chase makes it a point to always be prepared. She has three extra flashlights in the cupboard under the sink, four whole packages of batteries (A, AA, and D) sitting on a shelf above her desk, and enough ink cartridges to last her a lifetime. Her refrigerator is covered in lists, black ink sprawled across multicolored sticky notes, titled âgroceriesâ and ârememberâ and âupcoming birthdaysâ. She packs her bag for class the night before, double checks that she has enough tampons before itâs that time of month (and triple checks, and quadruple checks), and never seems to run out of hair ties.
So when she opens the cupboard in the kitchen and reaches her hand up to the top shelf and feels nothing, she almost screams.
Annabeth Chase is stubborn and short tempered and impatient. Annabeth Chase without her morning coffee is a monster.
âPiper!â She yells, sprinting down the hall and banging the girlâs door open, not stopping to let her fully rise before saying, âWhat happened to my coffee?â
âWhat?â Jason peeks his head above the sheets.
âMy coffee. Itâs gone. And I have class in forty five minutes.â
âYou used it all up,â comes Piperâs muffled reply, head still buried underneath miles and miles of puffy, white comforter.
âI think I would have realized if I drank all my instant coffee.â
âLast night. Eleven thirty pm. Studying for your physics final.â
Fuck. Sheâd drank it all - four cups to keep her mind on track. How hadnât she realized that sheâd used the entire box?
âCan you close the door on your way out?â Jason asks, snuggling back into the covers.
âYou donât even live here!â Annabeth groans, closing it on her way out nevertheless.
She checks the time on her phone the moment sheâs back in the kitchen - 9:50. Class is at 10:30. That gives her forty minutes to find the Starbucks with the shortest line and the least walking distance and sprint her ass off.
She runs her fingers through tangled, blonde hair before twisting it up into a bun, pulling a sweatshirt over her head and collecting her wallet and shoes at the same time, slipping the latter on while rooting around in the former for her keys.
Annabethâs out the door in two seconds flat, foregoing the elevator for the stairs. However dark and dusty they are, sheâs not taking the chance of the forty billion year old building deciding today would be a fun day to turn out the power. She takes the stairs two at a time, feet thumping on the hard concrete and echoing through the dimness. When she reaches the bottom, she all but bangs the door open, only slowing down slightly to power walk through the lobby of the dorm building before pushing the main door open and being greeted by chilly October air.
The wind bites at her cheek, nips at her nose and exposed fingers as she walks as quickly as possibly while simultaneously staring at her phone, willing the apple maps app to not open at the speed of a snail on morphine. Thereâs a Starbucks a block away, but itâs in front of a gigantic office building and close to a fairly successful start up, and therefore always has a line the length of the Great Wall of China, even at three pm on a Wednesday. If walking a few more blocks means easier access to coffee, Annabethâs all for it.
A man in a crisp, black suit holding what looks like a million dollar briefcase glares at her as she pushes past, and Annabeth doesnât bother to say sorry. Itâs a Monday morning, and she doesnât have coffee. Manners have gone out the window.
Annabeth arrives at the alternate Starbucks five minutes later, slightly out of breath. She swings open the door, welcoming the rush of warm air. The store smells like roasting coffee and peppermint, and she almost sighs in relief at the sight of the short line that awaits her. She steps in behind a boisterous looking woman, dressed in designer workout clothes and looking as if she hasnât run a foot all morning. In contrast, Annabeth looks like the Grinch.
The line moves surprisingly fast, but sheâs glad she came when she did, because as the minutes pass, the line steadily grows longer. It seems as if every time Annabeth takes a step forward, two new people have joined.
Finally, Lululemon Lady steps up to the counter, tapping one expensively manicured nail against her lip three times before saying, âOkay, but, like, how big is a venti?â
The cashier reaches behind the counter to show her the cup.
âThatâs too big, but a grandeâs too small⌠Like, I need caffeine but not too much. Is there any way you can give me something in the middle? But in a venti cup?â
The cashier looks taken aback before replying, âUh, yes maâam. But Iâll have to charge you for a venti.â
âWhy?â
âUm, thereâs no way of accurately measuring how much coffee we gave you otherwise so-,â
âI donât want to pay for a venti.â
âI can ask my manager, if you want?â
âYeah, go get your manager. Honestly, itâs absolutely ridiculous that I have to go through this much for a cup of coffee.â
âAlmost as ridiculous as the fact that I have to go through this for a cup of coffee,â Annabeth mutters, and thereâs a soft chuckle behind her. Lululemon lady, on the other hand, is less than amused. She turns on two sparkling white sneakers, narrowing her eyes.
âExcuse me?â
In any other instance, Annabeth would try to diffuse the situation. But sheâs tired. And coffee deprived. And cranky. And Lululemon lady is grating on her nerves. So she simply smiles and says, âYouâre taking forever to order your coffee and, I donât know if you noticed, but thereâs a line.â
The ladyâs eyes widen, then narrow back to slits, and she opens her mouth, but before she can get out a word thereâs a voice from behind Annabeth.
âSheâs joking, maâam.â
Annabeth spins to see a tall young man, hands in sweatpant pockets, giving the lady an apologetic, annoying attractive grin. He shifts his eyes to Annabeth for a second, as if warning her to keep her mouth shut, before retraining them on Lululemon lady.
âI donât really appreciate being talked to like that, even if it is a joke.â
âIâm sorry,â the man says. âAllow me to pay for your coffee.â
Annabeth just stares in shock as he cuts in front of her, paying for the venti the lady ends up ordering and then turning back to stare at Annabeth.
Thereâs something familiar about him, something recognizable about the mussed up black hair and the tanned skin. Has she seen him before? Passed him on the street? Thereâs a memory tugging at the back of her mind, but she isnât able to reach it.
âIâll pay for my own, thanks,â she grumbles, ordering a peppermint mocha latte and shoving a five dollar bill onto the counter before gathering up her change and stalking over to wait for her coffee, making sure to avoid Lululemon Lady.
Who does this guy think he is, fighting her battles for her? She doesnât even know him. At least, she doesnât think she does
As if to add onto her bad mood, he comes to stand next to her, staring down expectantly (damn, heâs tall. And hot).
âCan I help you?â She asks, making sure to inject every ounce of venom in her body into the words. He doesnât falter, doesnât hesitate a second before giving a little smirk.
âYou donât remember?â
âRemember? Do I know you?â Thereâs a little part of her that thinks she might. She just canât place the memory.
âOh wow. I mean, I thought that night was pretty unforgettable.â
Oh god. Oh no. Fucking hell no.
The memory comes crashing back, and Annabeth wants to sink into the floor and die.
His nameâs Percy. Percy Jackson. Biology major. Really, really good with his tongue.
Sheâd had sex with him.
Annabethâs red face must tell Percy everything he needs to know, because he grins. âI thought it was you, but I didnât want to say anything till I saw your face.â
âSo you decided to deal with a thirty year old lady for me?â
Percy throws his hands up into the air in surrender. âHey, I wasnât really feeling a fight in the middle of Starbucks.â
âWe werenât going to fight,â Annabeth protests, but she canât come up with anything more clever to say. Half of itâs the lack of caffeine in her blood, but the other half is that Percy Jackson is so goddamn distracting. She canât look at him without replaying the dark bedroom and the sound of music blaring through the walls, the feeling of his fingers on her skin, her hands in his hair.
Thereâs a reason, she reminds herself, why she shouldnât go to frat parties.
âI beg to differ.â
What are the odds that she sees the only guy sheâs ever had a one night stand with in a Starbucks three months later? Is there someone out to get her? Is her luck really this bad? If Piper were here, Annabethâs almost positive sheâd be laughing her ass off.
âWell, I wasnât going to fight.â
âAre you kidding? You looked tense up from the back!â
âHow do you even know, Iâm wearing a sweatshirt!â
He grins a little, and itâs only then that Annabeth realizes this makes it that much easier for him to remember her without one.
Sheâs having enough trouble trying to keep away from the thought of him shirtless.
âAnyway, you never gave me a call after that night.â
Oh god. They are not doing this.
âI mean, it was a one night thing.â Sheâs looking everywhere but his eyes. He has really nice eyes.
âStill, little rude, donât you think?â Thereâs a teasing tone to his voice, and Annabeth wants to punch that smirk off his face. Or kiss it.
Definitely kiss it. Fucking coffee-deprived hormones.
âIâm sure you have no shortage of girls calling you up,â she retorts, folding her arms across her chest and turning away from him.
One night-stands are supposed to be short - forgetful. Itâs not fair that Percyâs showing up out of the blue. Isnât that, like, against the rules? Should she be this attracted to him?
âTrue,â he jokes, running a hand through his hair. âBut Iâve never met any of them in a Starbucks.â
âReally? Well, then, this must be true love.â
âGlad weâre on the same page!â Percy gives her a grin, and Annabeth canât tell if heâs joking.
âPeppermint mocha for Annabeth Chase!â
A distraction. Thank God.
She stalks towards the counter, swiping her drink off and bolting out the door. A little part of her, perhaps bigger than sheâd like to admit, wants to talk to him a little more. A lot more. Heâs funny, and almost unhumanly hot, and if she didnât have class in twenty minutes, she might even consider it.
âHey! Annabeth!â She turns, surprised.
Heâs making his way towards her, coffee in hand, head cocked to the side. âI canât believe you were going to leave without setting a date.â
âWhat?â
âWhen am I taking you on a date?â
A pause. âWho says youâre taking me on a date?â
âWell, I just did.â
She really should get to class. Sheâs going to be late as it is, and is Percy Jackson really worth it?
âPick me up at 7, Friday. You choose what weâre doing.â
Annabeth whirls around and walks away, taking a sip of coffee, smile playing on her lips. Maybe heâll do the tongue thing again.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
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Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming