The Lonely Hearts Club

1. Number 10

Chapter 1 - Number 10
published: Saturday, 9 January 2021

Ba-dum.

Annabeth's heart slammed against her ribcage at a steady rhythm, more deafening than the shouts from her teammates on the sidelines.

Ba-dum.

Thing was, she wasn't even playing for anything tangible. Well — pride. And in some ways, that was more important than any trophy.

Annabeth stared at the soccer ball at her foot, lying in wait as she poised herself to sprint forward and, hopefully, spring it into the corner of the net.

Ba-dum.

The goalkeeper was standing at the ready, gloved hands out and determination scribbled in his features. "Alright, alright," Coach Hedge barked. A hush lulled the soccer pitch. "Be quiet."

Annabeth clenched her jaw, tuning out the whispers behind her head. This was just like any other penalty shot. She'd made about thirteen penalty shots in games and over a hundred in practices. This shouldn't be any different.

Except that Percy Jackson was standing directly in her eyeline, weight shifted to his back foot and the most infuriating expression. Amusement — and it made her want to punch him in the nose.

Percy Jackson and his stupid, stupid jersey that hung off his frame, with an emblazoned "10" on his back, the white print stark against the red material. The same "10" that was splayed across the back of Annabeth's own jersey — Chase, 10. That was her number.

Except it might not be anymore.

Annabeth took a step forward. The split second where her foot hovered in the air ran in slow-motion. In her peripheral vision, Annabeth saw Percy's lips tug up in a fashion that should've been illegal. A smirk — a scoff, even. Why try, his body language screamed at her. I'll beat you at every turn.

His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip before disappearing just as quickly.

The toe of her boot dug into the ground before the ball and Annabeth knew it was over. A sick feeling crawled into her stomach and wrenched her gut out; the ball flew towards the right corner, right into the goalkeeper's waiting hand.

For a desperate moment, Annabeth allowed herself to hope that Will would fumble. He deflected the penalty shot that should've been an inch higher with the tips of his fingers, the ball rebounding out of the net before it could cross the goal line.

Annabeth wanted to scream. Yells erupted behind her; cheers mixed with frustrated groans.

"Well," Percy said, lips curving into a smile. He spread his hands. "I mean." His teammates engulfed him, clapping him on the back in congratulations.

Annabeth's hands curled into fists, her jagged nails digging into her palms. "Fuck."

"Hey, it's fine, you were so close," came Bianca's sympathetic voice. The other girls were walking up to her.

"It's not fine," Annabeth said sourly. "He gets to wear the number 10 during games. Now I'm stuck with a lousy 25."

Clarisse eyed her in a way that made her skin crawl. "Should've made that shot."

"Is that helpful right now?" Katie demanded. "Lay off her."

"No she's right," Annabeth said through gritted teeth. She forced herself to look at Percy, who was exchanging what were, without a doubt, arrogant comments about winning. "Got distracted." She glared in his general direction.

"It's not the end of the world," Bianca tried for positivity. "You'll only have to switch jerseys for tournament games. You can still wear the "10" during our usual season."