In Which the Main Character Faces External Conflict

"I'm gonna say it," Leo said, abruptly turning down "Crazy Train" by Ozzy Osbourne.

Frank threw down the wrench he was working with. "No! Absolutely not!"

"Someone has to say it."

"Say what?" Annabeth asked, not bothering to emerge from beneath the Buick Encore she was working on.

"That's none of our business," Frank said.

Annabeth didn't need to see Leo to know he was rolling his eyes. "You're just afraid of confrontation!"

"Am not!" he whined.

"No, Annabeth isn't afraid of confrontation. You are."

Annabeth cleared her throat. "I don't want to be a part of this."

"Too late," said Leo. "You became a part of this the day you picked a fight with Percy!"

Annabeth finally decided to roll the creeper out from under the Encore. "Sorry, what?"

Frank gulped. "Well, Leo and I couldn't help but notice that you and Percy don't get along all that well."

"Took the words right out of my mouth!" Leo said, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Really, Frank, I don't think there was a better way to put that."

Annabeth frowned from the ground. "We get along just fine, thanks."

Leo caught the creeper before she could disappear back underneath the car. "Uh, no. You guys bicker all the time, and it's annoying!"

"We do not!"

"Remember the cookie incident?" Frank asked.

"I was worried about him!" she protested. Percy was eating Girl Scout cookies, ultimately draining his wallet, his dignity, and his energy! She was just stepping in to help!

"Or the other week when he accidentally bought Frank a sub with cheese on it," Leo offered.

"Frank is lactose intolerant!" Annabeth said. "I didn't want to be on the wrong end of that disaster, and besides, Frank's been working here for over a year! Percy should know by now that cheese is a no-go for him."

Leo scoffed. "What about this morning when he asked you to hold a box of... What was it? Pop-Tarts?"

There was no point; Leo and Frank would never see past Percy's charms. Whatever. At least Annabeth had common sense.

She rolled beneath the car and went back to work. She sighed in relief when Leo turned the volume on the music back up. Finally, they would stop grilling her about this. She sort of wished that she'd taken Piper up on dinner just so she'd have something to talk about with the guys. It seemed like every chance they got, they brought up Percy fucking Jackson. He was her boss. They were supposed to complain about him because of that very fact, so Leo and Frank had no right to urge her to do otherwise.

Footsteps and the slamming of a door indicated that Leo was taking his turn to work on the air conditioning in the minivan.

Annabeth grunted. She should have let it go, but she could never not have the last word in an argument. "And for the record," she said, not bothering to see if she had the guys' attention. "Percy is a misogynist and an asshole. I don't get why you guys like him so much. I mean-"

"Annabeth," Frank said.

"No, Frank! I'm tired of giving him the benefit of the doubt! Like, we all have daddy issues, but you don't see me acting all arrogant because of it!"

Leo's work boots appeared in her line of sight. "Annabeth..."

"You guys should know better than anyone! Like, we all have problems, and we're still nice people!"

Leo snatched the creeper with his foot and yanked her out from under the car. Before she could gather her bearings and yell at her coworker, she noticed the person standing in the doorway to be none other than Percy Jackson.

"Hey," he said. "I was, uh, just coming by to let you guys know that I'm putting together a little Halloween party lunch kind of thing at the end of the month. If you guys want to wear costumes to work, that's cool."

Was it too much to hope that he hadn't heard that?

Frank scratched the back of his neck and said, "That sounds like fun! We'll be there!"

"Cool," Percy said. "If you guys want to sign up to bring something, I'll leave the list with Nico."

"You can always count on me to bring plates and napkins," said Leo. "Who knows? Maybe I'll get the novelty Halloween ones if I'm feeling feisty."

"Put me down for a few bags of chips," Frank said. "Trader Joe's is running a sale this week."

Percy nodded. "Put it on the list, okay?"

"But why would we put it on the list if you're right here with it?" Leo said.

"Because... Because..."

"Annabeth, is there anything you want to bring?" Frank asked. "Because we'll definitely be there. You told me yourself that you were hoping we'd have a work party."

No, Annabeth did not tell Frank that. This was just his and Leo's weak attempt to smooth things over, and it wasn't working. Percy wouldn't even make eye contact with her.

She sighed. She'd have to mourn her lost date with bottom-shelf wine later.

Well... her Moscato would probably fit in her water bottle, so she could, at the very least, get wine drunk at the company party. It would be easier than playing whatever tacky game Will was bound to come up with.

"Put me down for forks," she said.

"Forks?" Leo asked.

"We're getting pizza," Percy said.

"Seriously?" Annabeth asked, springing to her feet. "We've been over this. Frank is lactose-intolerant."

"Oh, it's really fine..." Frank said, trailing off.

Percy crossed his arms over the clipboard with the sign-up sheet. "We get pizza every year. It's cheaper, and there'll be plenty of other stuff for Frank to eat. Right, man?"

"Uh, yeah, I can just eat the chips, and Piper usually brings a vegetable tray since she's vegetarian," he mumbles.

"No!" said Annabeth. "You're always saying that Olympus is a family, and since Frank is a part of this family, it's your job to look out for him. Don't you want something you can eat, Frank?"

"It would be nice to not have to pack a peanut butter and jelly sandwich..." he said, clearly seeing the appeal of Annabeth's argument.

"Exactly," she said.

Percy knit his eyebrows. "But I already called the pizza place and put in the order, and I don't think Mr. D gave us enough money for special orders or anything."

"Good god, are you even getting veggies?" Annabeth asked. "I mean, you can't just stick Piper with cheese; that's shitty."

"Do you want to get the pizzas?" he asked, finally losing patience with her.

"You know what? Yeah!" she shouted. "Put me down for pizza! I'll even make it myself!"

"Fine!" He made a show of crossing something off his list.

"Fine!"

Annabeth sat back down on the creeper and Percy left the garage. The door slammed behind him.

"Hey, Annabeth," Leo said. "I have a question for you."

"What it is, Leo?"

"Can you cook?"

She groaned.

"I'll take that as a no."

Frank chimed in as if there was zero tension in the garage. "You know, Trader Joe's has this really good pizza crust. I bet if you get a ton of that, and some sauce, and some toppings-"

"Thanks, Frank," Annabeth said, hugging her knees to her chest.

Leo turned the music back down and sat on the ground next to Annabeth. "Is there something more to this that I'm missing?"

"I just hate him so much," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Leo rolled his eyes. "I'll take that as a you're not ready to talk about it."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," she said.

Frank tossed a key in the designated miscellaneous key bucket. "I'm gonna rock and roll. See you guys tomorrow?"

"Bright and early," said Leo.

"Unfortunately," Annabeth said. "You wanna walk out together?"

Frank froze. "Oh, no, that's okay. I have to talk to Nico before I go."

"Didn't you already sign up for chips?"

"Yeah... Yeah!" he stammered, "but I never told him what kind I was bringing. I need to make sure everyone knows I'm getting Trader Joe's snacks. That way, someone else can sign up to bring Doritos if they want them."

Annabeth cocked an eyebrow. In what world did not even ten people need that many snacks?

"Well!" he said, putting his water bottle in his backpack. "I'll see you guys tomorrow!"

He left the garage and walked toward the lobby.

"What was that all about?" Annabeth asked.

Leo waved her off. "Don't even worry about it."

"Do you need help-"

"Nope!"

"...locking up?"

***

Other than a brief attempt to get with one of her coworkers, some nasty words targeted at her boss, and saying mildly inappropriate things in front of Girl Scouts, Annabeth took professional work behavior seriously.

One more exception to the rule was her mistake of drinking her bottom-shelf Moscato last night. She couldn't help herself. It was pink. The Moscato was pink! Besides, she had figured between pro-wrestling reruns, she could get another bottle at Dollar General for the low, low price of three and a half dollars.

That reassurance didn't do a thing to dampen the hangover she had the following morning, however.

"Good morning, Annabeth!" Frank said.

She grunted. "Can you not shout, please?"

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Depends. Do you have a Tylenol?"

Frank searched through his backpack, discarding an extra pair of socks and a package of Smarties onto the countertop next to him. "I've got Advil!"

"Good enough." She held out her hand and Frank shook a few of the pills into her waiting palm.

"I hope you feel better," he said.

She immediately regretted nodding to him, as it sent her brain ricocheting throughout her skull. "I'll be right back." She pushed the door open and stumbled off to the bathroom. Maybe she'd have a good scream if nobody else was in there.

"What the hell are you doing in here?" she croaked.

Percy turned off the faucet and reached for the roll of paper towels. "I'm washing my hands." His eyes narrowed. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm..." Shit, she thought as she spotted the urinal in the corner. Shit, shit, shit.

She spun around so fast, that she banged her head against the door on her way out and then bumped into Will Solace and his stupid Spookly the Square Pumpkin tie, her pills from Frank scattering on the floor, never to be seen again. Not that she'd want to see them again; no way was she going to put floor Advil in her mouth.

"Dammit, Will," she barked at the poor guy, who probably just needed to take a long piss after drinking one of those big Starbucks drinks he'd become accustomed to having every Wednesday morning.

"Annabeth?" he asked, apparently willing to put off his piss for something as trivial as this. "Is there a reason why you're in the men's restroom?"

"I'm having a day, Will," she said, trying to keep her voice from cracking.

He bent to the ground and gathered one of the pills. "Did you need this?"

"I'm not about to take Advil that was on the floor," she snapped.

Will looked at her—really looked at her—with his bright blue eyes. She was a bug under a microscope. He saw right through her cranky facade.

"Can I get you a glass of water?" he asked, putting a soft hand on her shoulder. "I think Nico has some painkillers behind his desk."

Tail tucked between her legs, she let Will guide her out into the lobby. She still sort of needed to pee, but that wasn't about to happen.

The harsh lighting of the lobby caused her eyes to squint and her head to throb. "Everything hurts," she grumbled.

"Yeah, I figured," Will said, stopping in front of Nico's desk. He pressed two little pills into her palm. "There. I was a medic at a summer camp for a long time, and let me tell you, ibuprofen works way better than Advil."

"Thanks," she said weakly, not even processing what he just said. She just chugged the water bottle next to her and swallowed the pills.

"A little better?" Will asked.

She shrugged.

"Should you go home?" Nico asked.

She shook her head and immediately regretted that action. "I'm fine," she said. "I just... had too much to drink last night, and I sort of have to-"

"Cool," said Will. "I've actually got something I need help with. Well, I could use the company more than anything. You up for a little side quest?"

"Hell no." Will liked to use the phrase "side quest" to describe a task that, although not necessarily unfun, was well out of his job description and completely inconvenient. The last time Will dragged someone along on a side quest, Frank ended up waist-deep in a dumpster looking for can tabs.

"Why not?" Will pouted.

"Because side quests are never as fun as you make them out to be," Annabeth said, "and I have a job to do. I'm a mechanic. Remember?"

He raked a hand through his curly hair. "Relax. It's an easy side quest. Some bird had massive diarrhea all over one of the cars I'm trying to sell, so I've gotta run it through the carwash. I just need you to ride along, maybe DJ a little... You in?"

That... actually didn't sound so bad. "What's the catch?" she asked.

He shook his head. "No catch. Right, Drew?"

Without looking up from her fashion magazine, Drew said, "No catch, hon."

Annabeth considered this offer for a minute. There was always a catch, whether Will realized it or not. Then again, the worst thing that could happen sitting in a car with Will was that he'd stop for bad snacks or blast music from old Barbie movies. That wouldn't be so bad. Annabeth could tolerate that.

"Alright," she agreed. "Let me get my things."

She trudged back into the garage where Frank and Leo were waiting expectantly.

"You good?" Frank asked.

Why did people keep asking her that? It was a hangover, for Christ's sake!

"I'm going on an errand with Will."

Leo raised an eyebrow and lowered his fixin' tunes. "You're going with Will?"

"Yeah, why?"

He pressed his lips together. "No reason. You should go."

"I am."

Frank picked Annabeth's backpack up off the countertop and tightened the lid on her water bottle. "Have a good trip! Did you bring a phone charger? Or like, a portable one?"

"I never really need to charge my phone at work," she admitted.

He bit his lip the way one might hold back a smile.

Something was up, but Annabeth couldn't find it in herself to care.

She shrugged her backpack over one shoulder and held her water bottle by the handle. "Thanks, Frank."

"You'd better head out," he said, almost robotically.

Annabeth looked at Leo. Surely he would have noticed Frank's odd behavior.

Her short coworker simply shrugged and turned his music back on, blasting Joan Jett and the Blackhearts loud enough to send Annabeth's hangover spiraling. She rubbed her temples.

That must have been her cue to get the hell out of there, she figured, so she retreated to the lobby, where Will and Nico seemed to be expecting her.

"Ready to go," Annabeth declared.

"Awesome." Will beckoned for her to follow him and then said goodbye to Nico, who only offered a grunt in reply. That Nico di Angelo sure was no typical receptionist.

They stepped onto the lot, and Will led Annabeth near some of the more bougie-looking cars, which were typically more expensive. That explained why Will needed to run through the carwash today; the clientele that would be shopping for such vehicles probably would lose interest if they weren't spotless.

"Ta-da!" Will cheered.

Annabeth almost didn't recognize the 2016 Volvo Premier beneath all the pollen and bird shit. She gaped, very sure that this car was supposed to be white. At least, it was white when she changed the oil.

When Will made no effort to climb into the driver's seat, Annabeth asked, "Do you want me to drive?"

"Huh? Oh! No, that's fine," he said. "There's just been a change of plans."

"A change of... Will, what are you talking about?" she asked.

"Just get in the car; it's fine."

Annabeth reached for the handle and opened the door.

Before noticing the astronomical number of miles on that Volvo, before noticing the disgusting tan interior, and before noticing the weird fingerprints on the sunroof, she noticed Percy Jackson in the driver's seat.