Hello! I just want to tell you that I really love and enjoy reading your stories! I don’t know if you are still taking prompts request, but if you are; I would love to see how you would interpret a “Haters to Friends to Lovers” trope in an Olympic/College Sport Au setting for your “How We Could Have Met” series. Keep up the great work!!!
She remembers the day she bought the olive green wallpaper that lines her closet. A teenage act of rebellion from the beige her stepmother had been obsessed with at the time.
Thankfully, it hadn’t cost her too much (since the closet is pretty small) and her stepmom has since relaxed on the beige aesthetic.
Reaching her hand along the back wall, she finally finds what she’s looking for, her old tennis shoes. The new ones she bought a month ago just aren’t as nice. More likely, she hasn’t done a good job of breaking them in but hey, if she’s visiting home might as well grab the ones she likes.
She glances around the room to see if there’s anything else she wants to bring back. The room is pretty barren so there’s not much to select from. Walking to the window, she peers at the suburbia outside.
Quiet, pretty empty, and hold on—
Is that Percy Jackson?
The downside of going to a small college is that everyone pretty much knows everybody else. But most people know Percy Jackson anyway, as the star swimmer who’s secured a bunch of wins for the school.
She knows him as the annoying guy hanging around the athletic building being too loud and too cocky. Honestly, she just doesn’t get the hype. He’s just like every other jock she knows, a little narcissistic.
There’s also the innate annoyance that comes with knowing she will never be as good as he is with swimming at tennis because her degree is more academically challenging than hers. He gets an easier workload and can spend time perfecting his sport, whereas she doesn’t have that luxury.
But all that aside, what is he doing here?
He’s looking at his phone then glancing around, which stirs enough of her curiosity to go downstairs and out the front door.
Before she has a chance to say anything, he looks up and sees her.
“Annabeth?” There is clear surprise in his voice.
They’ve only talked a handful of times, and that was mostly him bragging, so it’s a little surprising that he remembers her name.
“Percy,” she acknowledges. “What’re you doing here?”
(That last part comes out a little more hostile than she meant it to be.)
He raises an eyebrow. “What are you doing here?”
“I live here,” she responds, rolling her eyes already annoyed at the conversation. Didn’t he see her walk out of the house?
“You’re the one wandering around like a lost puppy,” she says, nodding towards his phone which does have Google Maps open.
Percy grins. “A puppy?”
If he thought she meant that as a compliment… There’s always this element with her conversations with him too, a back and forth that he clearly enjoys more than she does.
“I’m a cat person,” she responds dryly. “And you haven’t answered the question.”
“Oh, do you own this road or something? No one else is allowed to be here?”
“You know what, this is ridiculous.” She throws her hands up and turns to walk back into the house. This conversation was going nowhere.
“My family recently moved to this area. I thought I’d check it out.”
“Great,” she responds, still walking towards the house.
“I’ll see you around, Chase!” he yells as she gets to her door.
She turns around with a raised eyebrow. “Hopefully not, Jackson.”
-.-
The semester starts without much fanfare since the spring ones rarely do. But Piper has news as soon as she walks up to her friend.
“Did you hear?”
Annabeth shakes her head. Whatever it is, she probably hasn’t. “Hear what?”
“Our school is going to be entering the Brains and Brawn competition again this year. The search is out for contestants.”
She’s heard of the competition. Their school had come in second last year and it had been the talk of the town for a bit. From what she remembers, it was a series of challenges to test physical and mental aptitude.
“Sounds like way too much extra work,” Annabeth replies, pulling out her homework.
“I think they’re offering a monetary prize.”
Now that piques her attention. She could always do with extra cash.
“How much?”
Piper shrugs. “A few hundred, not sure. Are you going to sign up?”
“Maybe…I guess I’ll see what the time commitment is.”
Yet a few hours later finds her at the office for student affairs, where the banner for the competition recruitment is placed.
“Annabeth?”
She turns around at the sound of her name. Her advisor, Mr. Brunner, has wheeled up to her.
“Are you thinking of signing up?” he asks, nodding towards the banner.
“Oh, I don’t know—” She starts to hedge but Mr. Brunner smiles at her.
“I think you’d be a great fit!” he says. “Our school will have a chance with someone like you on the team.”
Her face flushes at the praise. “Thank you, I’m just not sure how much extra time I’d need to commit.”
“Well, it would be worked out with your partner. I’m the leading advisor so I’d come up with the basic training. Probably a dedicated hour during the week and a few others in your personal time.”
“Oh.” She hadn’t known Mr. Brunner would be directly involved. That fact alone makes her want to sign up for it. “Then I suppose I will.”
“Great! We’ll be emailing you if you’ve made it. Though,” he adds with a wink. “I’m sure you’ll be chosen.”
Ten minutes later she walks away having filled out and submitted the form, wondering what she might be signing herself up for.
-.-
Percy Jackson, apparently, is what she’s signing herself up for. She arrives at Mr. Brunner’s office, only to find him sitting on the other chair.
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” she says. “Where is Mr. Brunner?”
It’s probably too late to back out now that she’s been selected….right?
Percy raises an eyebrow. “Hi to you too. He had a call.”
“Did you get chosen?” she asks, already knowing the answer.
She needs to stop letting her pride get in the way. A few well-placed compliments by her advisor had her filling out the damn form and now she’s stuck with—
“No, I just like sitting here in my free time,” he answers with a roll of his eyes.
As warranted as his sarcasm might be, it’s still annoying.
“Fun hobby,” she says, finally sitting down on the chair beside him.
