The Best People have the Rottenest Luck

Chapter 3

Hello Readers,

SO SORRY!

I hated not writing for longer than I said. I would say it was because of finals, which is partly true, but it was mostly because I wasn't feeling it. I know, it sounds awful. But I figured a little bit longer of a wait for a better quality chapter would be preferable.

So please bear with me and enjoy.

And, of course, I own nothing [, Jon Snow...].

-Kat Jacks

CHAPTER 3 - SMITHSONIAN NATIONAL AIR AND SPACE MUSEUM, D.C.

ANNABETH POV

"It's an easy quest," he said. "It would take no stress on you," he said. And I almost believed him. Chiron promised an 'in and out' type quest that would be completely stress-free. No monsters, no nothing. Come on, even he couldn't believe that was true. I'm a demigod. Case and point.

Now I'm here, hunched over my laptop, completely stressed. I managed to sneak into the Smithsonian without anyone noticing and steal the copies of the tapes with my Yankee's cap, which was really a gods send. Except I have to go through all the outdated tapes to try and find the evidence of Percy's little 'visit'. This is the three hundredth tape and I am dreadfully tired of being cooped up in this little motel. I needed some fresh air and fast.

Giving up, I slammed my laptop closed and pushed it to the side of the bed. I switched into a set of running clothes with a convenient jacket pocket for my dagger. I grabbed a walkman that was so old and out of date that it would catch the attention of no monsters, and I popped in some earbuds, casually checking the tim

As soon as I'm out the door, I start running. All the pent up energy in me was pouring out as I paced down the sidewalk, making twists and turns where necessary.

Before I know it, I'm running past monument after monument, from the Lincoln to the MLK Memorial to the Washington Monument. I take in a deep breath as it gets harder and harder to keep up my pace. Eventually, my body betrays me and I'm forced to take up a slow jog. I hear what sounds like footsteps a good twenty yards behind me. The weird thing is that I noticed the sound of each foot colliding with the cement is much too quick and much to close. I realize the speed at which the mysterious runner is going at is nearly inhuman.

I later realized that inhuman was wrong. These steps were superhuman.

The steps get closer and closer. As they are coming up on me, I reach towards my dagger in my jacket pocket, thinking it had to be a monster attack. Just as I grabbed the hilt, I heard;

"On your left."

And then the monster, which was not actually a monster but a man with golden hair, was several paces ahead. I slowed to a stop, taking out an earbud, trying to comprehend what had just occurred. I realized that this mortal just passed me. Not only did he pass me, but he taunted me.

"Oh, Hades no," I said to only myself and the wind, for the man was about twenty yards ahead already, "no one challenges Annabeth Chase, daughter of Athena, Savior of Olympus, and gets away with it." I slipped my earbuds into my pocket with my walkman, fearing they would fall out in the competition to come.

And then I was off. I sprinted ahead until I was only ten paces behind the golden haired man. I smiled to myself despite the intense struggle for air. Five paces. I was gaining on him. Two paces. I would pass this man if it was the death of me. One pace. I pushed myself forward.

The look on his face as I said, "On your right," was priceless. The shock soon turned to a friendly smirk. He nodded to me and it was then that I noticed his striking baby blue eyes and straight white teeth. Oh how I wanted to punch him in those perfect teeth. Before I knew it, he sped up and passed me. I huffed a breath of annoyance and tilted my body forward.

It soon turned into a neck and neck race, with one of us pushing passed the other and then vice versa. It seemed to continue on forever even though it was only for a few moments. My lungs were on fire. I could barely breathe. I decided that my life was slightly more important than winning. Slightly. After a few more moments, I used the last ounce of my strength to push ahead by a few yards and then collapse. I was spread eagle on the middle of the sidewalk, breathing heavily, looking up at the pinkish sky as the sun started to rise in the sky.

I hear the other man's footsteps coming to a halt and glance over to see him bent over with his hands on his knees, panting. He comes over and offers a hand. Reluctantly, I take it and he pulls me up as if I were a rag doll. I take a moment to admire his supreme strength.

"I haven't run like that in a long time, little lady. You sure got some legs on you, ma'am." I am a little shocked at the politeness in his brass-toned voice. I expected some sort of arrogant, pompous speech on how I did well for a girl or something like that. Not some kind of forties' mannerism.

"Thanks," I start hesitantly.

"I'm Steve Rogers," he held out a hand, "nice to meet you." I take it and shake.

"Annabeth Chase." For some reason I felt completely able to trust this man. I don't know if it was the sincerity in his voice or the all-American smile, but something about this guy had me hooked.

"So what are you doing in DC?" he said, trying to make conversation as he retracted his hand toward his abdomen, placing it there and leaning into it. Probably nursing a running cramp, I concluded.

"I'm going through some old tapes my boyfriend left me, but I'm only visiting. I live up in Long Island," I replied, not ready to completely confide in a stranger, no matter how genuine.

"Ah, New York. Are you from there?"

"Nah, I'm from California, but I've lived there since I was seven."

"I'm from Brooklyn myself," he replied. That surprised me a bit. I expected some place like Kansas. He had that farmboy timidness about him.

Before I could respond, his watch began to beep. He looked down, almost as if he was surprised that a watch would beep. He frowned a bit as he played with the buttons. Then came a sigh and he looked back up, somewhat disappointed.

"Sorry, miss. I've got to head back," he smiled. Back to where?

"It was nice meeting you," I said as he nodded and rushed off, forgetting himself a bit as he seemed overwhelmed. I wondered what could have caused the sudden shift in mood as a turned back to somehow find my way back to the motel.

Oh great, back to the tapes.