The Good and The Bad ~ Percabeth

eight

[[unedited]]

p.j.

As soon as my nostrils fill with the scent of chlorine, my muscles relax and my heartbeat steadies. I've found the pool; it wasn't hidden or anything, but since I'm brand new to this school and can't fucking read, I'm pretty impressed with myself.

I enter the room, the humidity instantly changing. People trickle in and out of the doors to my right, and I can tell that it's the changeroom. I shoulder my backpack and push into the door. About a dozen guys are milling around in towels or compression trunks. Some are wet, some are still dry. I pick an open locker and toss my bag in. I strip in front of all the guys and no one bats an eye, which is comforting. Everyone else is changing, too and no one makes any snide comments about the others.

I've never done any kind of competitive swimming before. I don't even know if I'll be good at it. Chiron thought it would be good for me, that it would be something familiar and comfortable I could enjoy. I hope he's right.

I walk out into the pool area, pleasantly surprised to see six wide lanes and a diving pool. It's a lovely facility; everything is well kept and it isn't too muggy.

I look around, not exactly sure where to go. Different trios and pairs are talking amongst themselves, and I don't see anyone who looks like a teacher. "Well, you look lost."

I turn, and my heart stops. Standing beside me is probably one of the prettiest girls I've ever seen. I live with a bunch of daughters of Aphrodite, so that's truly a compliment. Her hair is dry, pulled up in a ponytail that curls from chestnut to caramel coloured. She isn't in an athletic bathing suit; she's in a bikini that is dress codable. Her body is curved in all of the right places. Annabeth's body is structured for battle. She's muscular in all of the practical places. She couldn't be bothered to look "sexy" or try and mimic the bodies of models you see in magazines, which is admirable. This girl, though, could've walked right off of the page of Sports Illustrated, and I wouldn't be surprised. "Because I am."

"Are you new?"

I nod. She has a low, rich voice.

"I'm Becki." She doesn't offer to shake my hand. "Are you trying out for the swim team?"

I nod again. I don't know why I'm not speaking.

"I'm not, but I can show you where to go if you want," she offers.

"That would be great," I say, finally finding my voice. We walk across the pool deck. She doesn't say much, and I don't look at her. I feel awful for thinking she's pretty, and even worse because I know she isn't using love magic to make me think that way.

"Hey Becki, ever heard of an actual swimsuit?" Someone calls from across the pool. I know why they say it, but I also don't know who's going to stop her. She flips her middle finger up behind her, but doesn't stop walking. We round a corner, and encounter a big man sitting in a small chair.

He stands up when he sees me, and he's even bigger than I had thought. He has one of those faces where you don't know where the head stops and the neck starts. He has to be more than 300 pounds, and he's entirely wrapped up in dark blue 'Angels' track gear. He has a mostly bald head trimmed with a few small, combed over hairs than remind me of my ex-stepdad, which makes me shudder. He stares me down with a cool, menacing glare. "Who's this?"

Becki gives me a nudge, and I realize she can't introduce me to him because she doesn't know my name either. "Percy Jackson, sir," I say. "I'm trying out for the swim team."

"We don't have open tryouts," he says flatly.

I swallow. I look over at Becki, who looks at me pointedly, as if to say, 'you're on your own, pal.' I'm not afraid of him, so I shrug, "You probably should. I think you'd like to have me on your team."

"Is that so, hotshot?"

"Let him do some warmup laps," Becki says. I don't know why she cuts in. "Then you can talk your shit to him based on facts, not prejudice."

"I don't know where you get off talking like that to me, Eriksen," he says coldly. I'm somewhat happy to learn that he uses that tone with others as well. "What are you doing in my pool?"

"Coach Garvin has me doing aquatic athletic therapy during second period for the first few weeks," she answers with no uncertainty. "I'll be doing exercises in the diving pool while your senior team does laps."

The fat man licks his lips, now directing his wrath towards Becki. It's as if I don't exist right now, and I'm happy to keep it that way. "And who on God's green earth gave you permission to do that?"

"You didn't let me finish," she says, her body language making it look like she's looking down on him, which is physically impossible. "I'll be doing exercises in the diving pool with Acadia."

The coach's beady eyes get smaller, seemingly shrinking back in his head. "Very well. I hope your therapy gets you in tip top shape for the volleyball season. Wouldn't want anything to happen to our star."

She gives him a satisfying nod, then turns to me. I don't know what powers she possesses, or why the name Acadia made the coach act that way, but I don't think I want to. "You can go get started on your warmup laps, Percy Jackson. I'll see you later."

I cant help but stare as she walks away. I turn to the coach, but he just grumbles and turns away. I walk over to the edge of the pool, and watch as the rest of the kids do their easy laps through the 12 foot waters. I judge that the first three lanes are freestyle, the fourth is breaststroke, the fifth is backstroke and the sixth is practicing entrances off of the blocks. The second freestyle lane doesn't look too busy, so I hop onto the blocks, wait for a gap, and dive in.

Immediately, I open my eyes and begin to glide under the water. I don't sink down too far, and don't go too long without breathing so I won't alarm the others around. I feel a surge of strength in my body, and I feel an easiness wash over me. I leap out of the water and begin to lift my arms. I don't have perfect technique, but I don't tire and I don't cramp up. I can paddle around in this pool for hours. I keep a respectable distance between myself and the swimmer in front of me. I watch his legs and mimic his pointed toes. I watch how he breathes every three pulls, and I do the same. I feel so peaceful in the water that I'm disappointed when I hear a shrill whistle echo through the pool. The swimmer in front of me immediately eases up, and instead of turning and kicking at the wall, he climbs out. I do the same, and we all gather around the big man from earlier. He doesn't introduce himself, but begins talking about the struggles their team faced last year and how they're going to bounce back.

"And, if everyone could turn their attention to the skinny white boy in the back," he says, which makes me flinch. No one meets my eyes, and I can tell the rest of the team doesn't like the way the coach speaks, either. "This is Percy Jackson, and he thinks he's going to be trying out for the team. Welcome to your first and only practice, brat. Let's see what you can do."

- - - - - - - - - -

Hello again. Hope you enjoyed! There isn't going to be a specific pattern with the changing of POVs, but I'll try and keep it as balanced as I can.

See you all soon. Please vote and comment to your heart's content.

Here's some real Percabeth content to remind you that everything is still good (at least, right now it is):

"... the way she laughed, threw her arms around him, and gave him a kiss whenever he did something stupid. She must've kissed me a lot, Percy thought."
(page 36, The Son of Neptune)

Thank the gods for everything in your life that brings you happiness.

Love, tumblingupwards