DEMIGODS. (Percico/Pernico)

˚‧º·Chapter Fourteen‧º·˚

"Mi chiamo Percy," I tried for the fifth time that evening, looking up at Nico for approval.

He nodded with a pleased smile.

"Piacere di conoscerti," Nico responded absolutely perfectly, looking at me over the frames of his glasses, which were starting to slide down his nose. "Mi chiamo Nico."

Before we started, he told me he'd be a minute because his contacts were bothering him. I, first of all, was offended because I never knew he wore contacts, even after our sleepover. I was twice as offended when he left the bathroom a couple of doors down the hallway with black-framed glasses that made him look cuter than he already was. At this point, I didn't think it possible, but here he was, proving me wrong once again. He was sitting criss-cross-apple-sauce on his bed, looking at me expectantly for my response. He buried an edge of a perfectly white tooth in his lower lip, his dark eyes boring into my soul.

"Pia... Uh," I hesitated, distracted by his gaze.

"It's fine, we'll work on that." He smiled to himself as he flipped to the next card in the pile, which I knew was the one with the four capital letters written in red Sharpie.

I smiled in anticipation as he paused for a moment.

"Come state?" Nico asked.

"Wait, wait," I paused him, my eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "I think you skipped one."

"I did?" he asked, turning to search in the discard pile.

He carded through the pile before he found the previous notecard which, surely enough, had another one attached to it.

"Oh, I did," he said. "Sorry."

"It's fine," I said expectantly, awaiting his response.

As he peeled the card from the other, he curiously read the large, red letters and the question mark printed on the front. I could see them through the back of the card, knowing for sure that it was the right one. He stared down at the card, speechless. His mouth was partly agape in surprise as he fumbled for a response. He looked up at me, asking silently if that card was meant for him.

I merely shrugged in response with a knowing smile, waiting for him to compose himself.

"You're asking me?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Who else would I ask?"

"One of the girls in the long line that are waiting for you to ask them to prom. I mean, lots of girls want you. You know they do."

"Well, there's a difference between you and those girls," I said. "You're actually enjoyable to be around."

Nico laughed. I decided I loved that sound.

"So, what do you say?"

"Oh, I don't know."

"You don't know? Well, if I asked myself to senior prom, I would say yes."

Nico laughed again. "It's your last prom. You don't want to go with a guy."

"Why not?"

He was silent for a moment, as if he was searching his mind for a valid response.

"Because you're straight." His tone sounded a little sadder than it usually did. His eyes avoided mine, lacking their usual warmth.

"I don't care," I shook my head. "I want to spend my last prom with you."

"Percy, let's be honest here."

"I am being honest."

"No, you're not," he said, sending my mind spiraling into confusion. "What do you wish to gain by treating me like this? You have been ever since you learned about my... my tastes."

"What do you mean?" I asked, trying not to get distracted by the many hand gestures he made while speaking. Well, he always was like that, and I thought it was cute, but he wanted to have a serious conversation, and I would oblige him.

"I mean, constantly showering me in compliments, letting me use you as a pillow during our little road trip—I know that happened, don't deny it—staring at me, telling me I'm worth something, smiling at me and treating me like..."

"Like what?"

"A girlfriend, Percy. You're treating me like you like me. How am I supposed to deal with that? Being tempted constantly by your kindness and attention, but then going home at night and crying myself to sleep, knowing I can never have this. Now, you're asking me to prom. Your senior prom, Percy. I feel like you're just exploiting me. Tell me the truth. Is this a joke to you?"

I paused. "I... I didn't know you felt that way."

"I do. I really, really do." His eyes began to tear up. "Leave me if you want. Kick me out of the band, I don't care. Just stop torturing me like this. I looked at you freshman year and I knew I wanted you, but I could never have you. You hung out with Jason and Annabeth and Thalia, while I sat in a corner by myself. I looked at myself in the mirror and I hated myself. I hated myself for loving you. I've fallen in love with you even more since you started talking to me. You're the sweetest, funniest guy I could ever dream of."

I was silent for a moment before I could find words to respond. "So, is that a yes?"

He shook his head in frustration, burying his head in his hands and sobbing.

"Hey, hey, Nico," I said, wondering if I should've tried to comfort him. "Don't cry. I... I do care about you. If you have a crush on me, fine. That's completely okay. I didn't mean to offend you. I just wanted to go to prom with you. I want to spend the night with someone I care about, and the first person I thought of was you. If you need time to think about it, go for it. I don't need an answer right away."

He sobbed again, his body shaking.

"What did you do?" barked a voice from the doorway.

With a start, I looked the direction from which the voice came to see my Italian teacher, Nico's dad, with a glower more intense than normal.

"I didn't...! I just asked him..."

"Get out. Now."

I held back my rebuttals and nodded, looking back at Nico sadly before snatching my backpack off the plushy floor and moving past the devilish man standing in the doorway. I descended the stairs and aimed for the front door, pulling on my shoes and leaving the house.

As I sat in my car, I slammed my head against the steering wheel, closing my eyes in frustration. Why couldn't I just tell him I liked him, too? No, it was just my usual "it's okay" bullshit front that I used when I was too scared to admit something. As I composed myself, I started my car and headed for home.