Percy Jackson One Shots

Annabeth Chase

I did a cliché one for Percy, might as well do one for Annabeth too. Don't hate me. Please.

I slam my locker door aggressively shut, locking it in what can only be described as a savage fashion. Then I swing my backpack over a shoulder and begin my murderous march to the music room. In that room of horrors a trumpet awaits me. A trumpet I can not for the life of me seem to be able to play.

As I descend the last few steps into the basement, my eyes flicker aglow with a fire that only comes out in battle times. Now I may not be pummeling monsters to dust like in the Titan War or the Giant War, but the little son of b*itch trumpet is going down today.

I halt right in front of the music room's door and take a second to breathe. When I'm decently reposed, I plaster on a big, bright, bubbly, fake smile and push the door open. You're going so far down even Tartarus won't ever be able find you.

I walk demurely into the room, hopefully resembling a semi-normal human being (because let's just freely admit this, the whole demigod thing plus the whole teenager thing probably puts me at about two eighths human). As multiple people greet me, instruments in hand, all I seem to be able to do is stare across the room where my trumpet case lies, thinking about how in a few minutes I'll being busting apart that horn's...horn.

I take it out of the case and walk over to my seat. Or music teacher, Mr. Tentory sits at the very front of the class, his hand holding the baton raised. "Okay," he says. "Warm up."

I raise my lips to the mouthpiece as he counts us in for our concert B flat scale. As he begins coming down on beat one of the first measure, I blow determinedly into my instrument.

Nothing comes but a harsh crackle.

I resist the urge to hurl the bloody thing into a wall.

At the front of the class, Mr. Tentory lowers his arm. "No, no, no," he shakes his head. "Annabeth, do not simply blow into the mouthpiece, you have to tighten your lips and buzz," he insists. "Now go into the hallway and practice."

Gritting my teeth, I grab a music stand along with the book and head into the hallway as the rest of the class completes warm up.

What is wrong with me? I can do grade twelve calculus in my head and yet I can't make a single bloody noise on the trumpet? How does that make sense?

I sigh sitting in the ground and pressing my back to the wall. Everything usually comes so naturally to me. Nothing is every this freaking hard.

I blow into my trumpet again, tightening my lips as he'd directed. Still, nothing comes out. At this point I don't even know if it's me, maybe my trumpet's just utter crap.

The rest of the period is spent by me sitting in the hallway, trying to play. It was about as productive as it sounds. Eventually the bell rings though to switch class and I drag my music stand and book back into the class, putting my trumpet back in its case. I blow out a long breath, pissed off at myself for not being able to get it.

As I walk out of the class, I think of what Percy would tell me right now. He'd tell me to relax right now, that music did not matter in the long run for me. Well I don't know if he'd get around to saying all that, but he'd totally give me a hug and even the thought of his arms around me calms me down.

A little.

I'm still in a murderous rage when I storm into English. I plop down heavily in my seat, seething. That's when Cassidy walks into the class, settling into the seat next to me.

"What's got you so worked up?" she asks.

"I can not, for the life of me, play the trumpet," I tell her.