Loverboy (PERCABETH AU)

Chapter 11

Percy's POV

Saturdays at the Jackson-Blofis apartment usually started with the smell of coffee and whatever my mom decided to make for breakfast. Today it was blueberry pancakes — because of course it was.

"Morning, kiddo," Mom said as I wandered into the kitchen, hair still damp from a shower. "Plans today?"

"Yeah, Jason texted. We're hitting the arcade with Leo and Frank." I stole a piece of pancake straight off the plate before it hit the table. "And before you ask, yes, I'll be home for dinner."

She gave me the mom look — the one that could stop me mid-sentence. "Be careful, okay? And don't spend all your money trying to win a stuffed animal you don't need."

"Can't make promises," I said with a grin.

From the corner of the room came a loud giggle that could only belong to Estelle. She was in her little bouncer seat, chubby legs kicking like she'd just won a gold medal in baby gymnastics.

I crouched down next to her. "Hey, Stella," I said, giving her a gentle poke in the tummy. She giggled like I'd just told the funniest joke in the world. "You gonna behave for Mom and Paul today?"

"Her definition of 'behave' doesn't match yours," Mom said.

"True." I kissed Estelle on the forehead, grabbed my jacket, and headed for the door.

By the time I slid into my Prius, I was already getting texts from Leo complaining that I was "taking forever" and Jason saying I was "about to get left behind." Which was rich, considering they've both been late more times than I can count.

The arcade was on the boardwalk, buzzing with weekend energy — neon lights flashing, the smell of popcorn in the air, and the faint thump of bass from some old racing game in the corner.

Jason was leaning against the change machine like he owned the place. Frank was next to him, holding a paper bag that probably had the snacks he promised. And Leo... Leo was locked in mortal combat with a claw machine, muttering curses under his breath.

"Took you long enough," Leo said when he saw me. "I was about to have Jason text you a search-and-rescue plan."

"You've been here what, five minutes?" I said.

"Seven," he shot back.

Jason smirked. "Good timing. We need a fourth for air hockey."

The arcade was one giant sensory overload — neon lights flashing in every direction, machines chiming like a casino, and the smell of pizza that made my stomach growl even though I'd already had lunch. Jason, Leo, Frank, and I had barely made it past the front counter before Leo was sprinting toward the skee-ball machines like his life depended on it.

We decided to start with air hockey — me and Jason versus Leo and Frank. Big mistake for them.

"Six–zero!" Jason crowed as he slammed the puck into their goal again.

"This table is rigged," Leo muttered, eyes narrowed at the puck like it had personally betrayed him.

Frank shook his head, grinning. "You just have bad aim."

After three rounds — and three wins for us — Leo dramatically abandoned the table and stomped toward the basketball machines. "Fine. We're doing something skill-based. No cheating."

We followed, and that's when Jason shot me this look. The kind of look that meant he was about to say something I didn't want to hear.

"So," he said casually, "you and Annabeth."