Aroma ~ A Percabeth Story (ongoing): Book 3 - Percy Jackson Fanfiction

Chapter Eighteen ~ ANNABETH

Chapter Eighteen
ANNABETH

Adam Grimshaw looked hungrily at the plate of cookies. "Go on," Annabeth said gently. "Have one."

He licked his lips, reached forwards and pushed them away. "I'm not a charity case," he said firmly.

"Okay." Annabeth smiled and took one herself. "All the more for me."

She waited, watching to see if her tactic work. With a sigh, Adam snatched one away from the plate and nibbled at it. His small bites turned into great chomps into gigantic gulps as he swallowed one after the other, stuffing his face. Annabeth made him a coffee as he ate, and placed it on the table as he let forward a burp.

He looked embarrassed. "Sorry," he mumbled, his face red.

Annabeth shook his head. "Don't be, love. Now. Tell me what you're doing it here."

"I-I only live a few blocks away." Adam ran a skinny hand through his filthy blonde hair. "Ma... she's not well, Miss -"

"Annabeth is fine." She smiled more reassuringly. "Really."

He gulped and continued, "My ma is a druggie." Tears formed in his eyes but he blinked them away furiously. "And Dad is an alkie. So they're both too wasted to do anything. We don't have much food or drink. Anything we do have is out of date or mouldy. The council shut off our water supply last week."

"Last week?" Annabeth analysed the boy in front of her. He would be handsome if he wasn't so bony and hollow; his hair was matted with grease and grime, and his face was completely covered in scars and scrapes, as were his arms and legs. His eyes were bright and wild. There was something very calm and intelligent about him, and a sense of dignity that he was determined to retain. "How do you drink?"

"I set up stuff outside our flat," Adam explained, with a slight smirk and a dash of pride. "Anything that'll collect water - jugs, saucepans, buckets, the lot. When Dad was sober enough, I made him call the council and cancel our television and phone bills. Nobody calls us, and we only had crappy cable." He flushed. "Sorry, I mean rubbish cable."

He sipped at his coffee and tried to hide his delight. Annabeth got up and searched Percy's cupboards - she eventually found some decent food for the poor lad to eat.

"The shower is upstairs," she told him. "I'll find you some clean clothes and lay them out for you afterwards. There'll be some food for you when you come down - some proper food. I may even nip to the shops, okay? Just promise me you'll be here when I come back, Adam. I need to talk with you - properly."

Adam put down his mug and looked at her warily. "Why are you doing this?" he asked. "You said this is your husband's flat. I broke into it. Does that... does that not make you angry, for crying out loud?"

"You were hungry," Annabeth said, rubbing her forehead. "I know that's why you -"

"No," Adam interrupted abruptly. He put his head in his hands. "I broke in because... I wanted shelter. I was running away." He got up and walked to the cupboard under the sink. "When I heard you come in looking for me, I shoved this in here, so if you had me arrested and I was bailed, I could come back for this stuff."

He pulled out an olive-green rucksack and a rolled-up navy sleeping bag. Putting the rucksack on the kitchen table in front of Annabeth, Adam unzipped the flap and pulled out a dirty cracked bottle of water, a small golden tin, a framed photograph and a fat bursting book.

"These are random things to run away with," Annabeth noted. She paused. "Do you mind if I have a look, Adam?"

Adam shook his head and sat back down.