Loverboy (PERCABETH AU)

Chapter 33

Annabeth POV

The California sun was softer than I remembered, warm and golden, spilling across the small apartment I was temporarily staying in. Three months before Stanford classes began, and here I was, in a city that smelled faintly of salt and sunscreen, with a horizon that stretched wider than anything back in New York.

I sank into the couch, letting myself just... exist for the first time in weeks. No rushing, no deadlines, no schedules. Just the quiet hum of the apartment, the distant sounds of traffic, and the occasional call of a bird outside the window.

I had imagined that being here, away from the chaos of New York, would make things easier. That the miles between me and Percy, between me and everything I'd left behind, would numb the ache. But it didn't. Not really. Not yet.

I stared out the window at the streets below, trying to absorb the unfamiliarity, trying to convince myself that this was the start of something new. But even as I watched people walk by, laughing, listening to music, living, there was a hollow weight in my chest that refused to leave.

I tried to distract myself. I unpacked a few boxes, sorted through my things, even rearranged the little apartment until it felt like it was mine. I opened a book, tried to read, but my thoughts kept drifting back, uninvited, to him—Percy. Every laugh, every careless smile, every time his hand had brushed against mine. I wasn't sure if it was heartbreak, regret, or just... longing, but it all tangled together into a knot I couldn't unravel.

By late morning, I realized I couldn't just sit here any longer. The apartment, with its neat boxes and echoing silence, felt smaller than the ache in my chest. I needed air. I needed... something. So I grabbed my bag, tucked my hair behind my ears, and stepped outside. The city stretched before me in endless possibilities, but every familiar sight—every palm tree, every corner café—reminded me that this life I was trying to build didn't have him in it.

I wandered aimlessly at first, letting my feet carry me, until I found myself in a quieter part of the city, streets lined with bookstores, cafes, and little boutique shops. A sign caught my eye: Minerva's Books & Curiosities. The name made me smile faintly—Minerva. Athena. My mother's name. Though she'd never been in my life, I'd always felt a strange pull toward her, toward her wisdom and her strength. Maybe this was a small echo of that, some connection I didn't yet understand.

The bell above the door chimed as I stepped inside, and the scent hit me immediately: old paper, ink, and polished wood. Shelves stretched from floor to ceiling, packed tightly with books of every kind. The soft hum of a classical record played somewhere in the back, making the space feel cozy, safe, like a secret no one else could find.

"Good morning," said a warm voice. I looked up to see a woman behind the counter, maybe in her late forties, with short curly hair and sharp, intelligent eyes that softened when they met mine. "First time here?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Just... exploring." My voice sounded quieter than I intended.

She smiled, stepping from behind the counter. "Well, welcome. I'm Minerva. Anything in particular you're looking for, or just browsing?"

I hesitated. "Just... something to read, I guess. Something that... helps."

Minerva tilted her head, studying me for a moment. There was curiosity there, but not judgment. "Helps how?"

I blinked, unsure if I wanted to say anything. But there was something in her tone—genuine, patient—that made it easier to open up. "I guess... to feel better. To... deal with things."

Her eyes softened. "Ah. You're carrying something heavy, aren't you?"

I let out a shaky laugh. "You could say that."