She always loved storms,

[ TW: brief mentions of an eating disorder ]

A N N A B E T H

So, I think Brittany has a problem with me.

At least, that was what everyone seemed to keep saying. Louisa, two random girls in the bathroom, the odd looks that I got from some members of the cheerleading squad- just stuff in general.

In all honesty, to me, it hadn't seemed like that at all.

While there had been an incident where she screamed at this one guy on the football team because he was harassing her project partner- Greg Hawkins- she hadn't outright done anything horrible to me.

Now, that might have been because James was always around- especially even more now, after my little accident. But a greater part of me was convinced that maybe that wasn't true either.

I had seen the incident with the football player go down though, and good Lord was she scary. 

...But it was for a good cause, I guess? And maybe she wasn't as bad as everyone thought she was?

As I continue to ponder over it, taking my own sweet time at my temporary locker, I hear the clicking of high-heeled shoes. 

And lo behold, the very same person was currently walking my way, her head tilted down and towards the floor.

I brace myself, just in case this was it. The ultimate showdown or whatever like all those movies.

I already had my best comebacks ready at hand in case she tried to be mean to me: no, u.

That'll show her. It'll even go down in the history books.

I hold my breath, ready to say it-

-but she just walks right past me.

The first thing I do when I'm sure she's gone is sigh in relief. 

Because goodness me, although I had a comeback ready, I'd probably pee my pants before I got a word out. 

Confrontations, especially mean ones, were not it for me, no ma'am.

The second thing I do is stare after her.

Her shoulders were slumped, and she looked like she was hurrying in the direction of the bathroom. She hardly seemed as intimidating as usual- and none of her friends were around. That was surprising considering they were always together.

Okay. It's none of my business. Absolutely none of my concern.

I was just going to pretend I never saw anything happen. I was going to spin on my heel and be on my merry way.

And just as I'm about to, I feel a familiar pressure, down in my lower abdomen.

No. No no no no.

"I can hold it in," I tell myself with a deep breath, but I take another step- and the urge to pee just gets more.

How did it get that bad, that quickly? I'm suing my bladder.

Very slowly, I turn back around- and start my trek to the bathroom. Please don't notice me, please don't notice me-

I was being a little unnecessarily dramatic here too, but I was preparing for the worst. Oh yes. Just for my own safety, I hold my fist up the way James had taught me to.  

Ooh, he was going to be mad that I was taking so long. He thought I was too clumsy- but I'd have him know that I only tripped once over the air.

The second time was over my own shoelaces. 

He didn't need to know that.

When I'm right outside the bathroom, all those thoughts about my safety go right out of the window.

Because I could hear the faint, but unmistakable sound of retching.

I go still in shock for just a moment, and before I know it- my hands push against the bathroom door, nearly throwing it open. 

I see her leaning over one of the toilets- and I'm beside her almost instantly.

"Hey," I rub her back as she throws up, "I've got you, it's okay."

About thirty more seconds pass, and then after a couple more dry heaves, she sits back. I lean over and flush the toilet, before tugging at her arm to help her up but she pushes it away.

"I don't need your help," she snaps, rising to her feet herself. I take a couple of steps back as she moves over to the sink- rinsing her mouth.

When she's done, she straightens- and narrows her eyes at me through the mirror.

"You," she mutters, her mouth curling into a sneer, "Annabelle, wasn't it? What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Uh," I pat my pockets, then find the mint chewing gum that I had started to carry around- just in case James was in a bad mood- before I hold it out to her like a peace offering, "This is mint. I haven't opened it, I swear- it's from the vending machine and-"

She snatches it out of my grasp before I can finish. Okay then.

"It's Annabeth, by the way," I offer nervously, "Not Annabelle. Although, I do like the movie Annabelle about that doll. It's supposed to be horror, but I wasn't very sc-"

"Why do you talk so much?" she tilts her head at me, her eyes still narrowed.

"...I don't know?" I say, but it comes out as a question. "Uh, are you okay?"

"None of your business," she grits out, "I asked you what you were doing here. If you were here to find something out to get the rumor mill running, I swear to every-"

"No! No, I wasn't," I shake my head rapidly, "I promise, I really really had to pee- still do, by the way-"

Her nose wrinkles.

"- But uh, I heard you? And I was worried. I really was. Do you want some of this roll-on perfume, by the way? I carry it around because it's tiny and for emerg-"

She takes it out of my hand before I can finish again. That was the second time. I find myself almost frowning.

She looks down at the tiny roll-on perfume, putting some on her wrist- and then taking a little sniff.

"Oh," she blinks, "Damn. What is this?"

"Lavender and mint," I tell her, a little happy since she seemed to have liked it, "You can get these super cheap at Bodyshop. I have another one in my bag, so you can keep it if you want to."

She just stares at it skeptically.

"...Are you sure you're okay?" I ask her after a pause, a little quieter than before, "If you need someone to talk to-"

"I don't need you," she snips, looking me up and down with a glare, "And I don't need you running your mouth about this either, so don't even think about it."

"I won't," I tell her, very seriously, "It's not my business, nor is it a place to tell anyone. Whether it's a stomach bug or anything else-"

"I'm not pregnant," she hisses, "and I do not have an eating-"

Her voice cracks, and she cuts herself off- staring down at the ground.

Oh no.

"Brittany..." I begin slowly, hesitantly lifting my hand to touch her shoulder, "Should I call a friend or something? I don't think you should be alone right now so I can always call someone you're comf-"

"Don't," she lifts a finger in warning, but that finger is shaking, "They're-They're going to think I relapsed or something, and I cannot have that happening."

I felt terrible for her. 

I don't know if she realized that she indirectly confirmed that she used to have an eating disorder or not, but she was very strong for getting through it. Those were no joke.

I tighten my grip on her shoulder a little bit for support since she hasn't pushed it off.

"You didn't.." I clear my throat, hesitant to ask her, "Did you make yourself-?"

"I didn't," she says, even more firmly- and she looked like she was blinking back tears, "My stomach's been bugging me since this morning and the lunch didn't sit right with me. That's all. Don't you dare say a word to anyone- or I will come for you."

"I won't," I say again reassuringly. 

It didn't matter to me that she was constantly telling me to keep quiet about it. I'd be terrified about people finding out about half the stuff I had looming over me. Reassurance at times like this was needed.

"I promise," I say, a little more insistently when she stays quiet, "No one's going to hear about this."

Slowly, she nods- the look on her face, less frigid than before. "Annabeth, not Annabelle?"

I nod, with a smile. "My friends call me Annie. You can call me that too if you want to."

"We aren't friends," she says with a little scoff, but she pops the little roll-on perfume that I gave her earlier into the pockets of her skirt.

Wait.

Pockets of her skirt?!

"Your skirt has pockets?!" I blurt out in awe before I can help it, "Oh my Gosh- where'd you get it?"

She gives me a slightly taken aback look. "Uh, I got it from Macy's."

"The one near the Town Square?"

She nods slowly like she's still really unsure about this whole interaction.

"You're the best," I tell her, fully meaning it, "I've been looking for dresses and skirts with pockets but there are absolutely none. And sometimes- some girls don't even tell you where they got their skirts from! They just give you dirty looks, and it makes you feel horrible on the inside."

Yep. That was me speaking from personal experiences. Don't mind me.

She just narrows her eyes some more as if she's trying to figure out what my deal is.

"By the way," I tell her before some of my courage runs out, "I saw what you did for Greg Hawkins. That was great. And scary. But mostly great because I know that he gets picked on but doesn't like to complain about it. Someone from our school said some pretty mean things to him and it's nice to know that you stood up for him."

"The blonde one with green eyes?" she asks, her tone mean and her face displeased, "I hate that motherfucker."

"As you should," I say with my whole heart, "He's an absolute jerk. Ugh. I hope he gets what's coming for him."

"He will," she says assuredly, "and Greg...he mentioned that you helped him. That was.." she clears her throat, a little awkwardly, "That was nice of you."

I just give her a little shrug, with a smile. "Anyone would have done it."

The look on her face reads No they wouldn't have, but I don't argue with her.

"Greg seems pretty shy," I say instead, "I'm glad he has you as a friend."

She presses her lips together. And after a long moment,

"We're not friends."

"Oh," I blink a little, unsure what to say, "Uh, I guess it's nice for him to have you as a project partner- then?"

I can't seem to read the look on her face as she chews on the mint gum I had given her. 

Again, she takes a little longer than usual to respond. 

But then, she says something that I couldn't have possibly seen coming.

"He isn't just a partner either," she says slowly, "We have a relationship. Him, I and Michelle."

It takes me a second to understand what she's saying, and when I do- my eyes go wide.

"Oh, wow," I smile real big at her, "That's wonderful, I'm super happy for the three of you!"

"Thanks," the look on her face is hesitant like she isn't sure if she should be saying anything at all especially to someone she was supposed to hate.

Oh. About that.

"I-uh," I give her an uncertain look, "People have been saying that um, you and James- are supposed to be a thing? I know what you just told me but I just want you to know- that if that was true at any point in time, I'm more than open to following any boundaries that you'd like to set. I'm sorry if I've made you uncom-"

"You are too nice for your own good," she muses, giving me a thoughtful look. I stop immediately, giving her an unsure smile. That was a compliment, right?

And then she drops another one on me.

"I don't like James like that. Never did."

I blink at her, a little puzzled.

"Michelle and I are ready to make our relationship public," Brittany says, turning to her reflection to fluff her hair up, "But Greg.. he isn't open to it yet. We're giving him time. It's still supposed to be a secret, by the way."

The last part was said a little more pointedly than the rest, and so I quickly nod. "I won't tell anyone."

I still didn't see where James came in.

"A very few people know, and we don't want people getting suspicious," she continues after giving me a long look, "all the flirting is just to throw people off. I know nothing's going to come out of it- especially because he hates everything and everyone."

Oh. Oh.

Oh. My. God.
I was literally having a Janice moment- minus the obnoxious nasal laugh.

You know, Janice from friends, with the- 

Never mind. 

The point was, that now it made sense.

And on a happier note, it was lovely! Super adorable too! I hope all three of them were happy together.

"I have absolutely no idea why I chose to tell you all this," she gives me the side-eye, "you've got this whole warm-person thing going that makes people comfortable around you, I guess."

"Is that a compliment?"

"Make of it what you will."

I smile, and I can see her lips lift into a small smile as well.

"As a thank you," she says when I continue to stand there, smiling, "for helping both Greg and me- how about I help with your make-up and hair tomorrow? We have a football game here, at school."

"You'd do that?" I ask, shocked. Her hair and make-up were always perfect. That would be a dream. "Could you teach me how to do it too?"

"Sure," she shrugs, "You going with anyone?"

"Ah," I can feel some heat rising up my cheeks, "I'm going with James, actually. He asked."

The look on her face turns surprised. Can't blame her, honestly. "He did?"

"Mhm," I nod, feeling myself turn a little redder. Eh, it was the heat.

Probably best not to tell anyone that I screamed into a pillow, later that night, thinking about it. Yeah.

She smiles at my answer, and there isn't the slightest trace of bitterness, hostility or envy in it. "That's sweet. I can tell he cares about you."

As much as a sock, perhaps. 

Although, being cared about as much as a sock was an honor. I loved my socks. Imagine him caring about me as much as I loved my socks. 

Nah. He wouldn't. Maybe he liked me as much as I liked hats.

Which meant: I didn't like them too much, but I kept them around when needed. That sounded about right.

I don't tell her all that because she would think I was weird, only choosing to shrug. 

Before I can say anything else however, she turn to me and some of the meanness returns to her face, "My offer to help you stands, but I meant what I said. If you tell anyone about any of this, anyone at all-you're fucking done. Are we clear?"

"Crystal," I nod, then smile at her, "Honestly- you are scary, just not as much as everyone makes it out to be."

She scoffs, rolling her eyes. "Don't for one second think that I'm not a bitch, Annabeth. There's a reason most people here think I'm an absolute nightmare."

I scrunch my nose at her. "Remind me not to get on your bad side then."

"Whatever," she rolls her eyes, but it's more good-natured than irritated, "Now, get out."

"Ah," I give her a tight smile, "I can't."

She frowns over at me, popping her hip out. "Why not?"

"Because I still really, really need to pee."

*****

Brittany didn't have to admit it- but I knew we were on good terms now.

I just hope she doesn't pull a Brutus and stab me in the back. 

Not literally, of course- especially because I was no Caesar, and there had been no friendship between us prior, but I really hoped that she had been as genuine as I had tried to be.

She had been waiting for me outside the bathroom, once I finished peeing- and naturally, I took that opportunity to make one of the best puns known to mankind.

"You're outstanding."

"What?" she frowned at me.

"Out-standing," I say a little slower, with a big grin, "Because you were standing outside the bathroom, geddit?"

"You're so lame," she shook her head, but there was a small smile on her face, "It's cute, though. Tell me another one."

Of course, that meant I had to pull out all the big guns and tell her my best ones.

She was smiling real big at the end of them, and heck if that didn't make my day. It made me smile too! 

That smile stayed on my face even after I got back to the classroom, apologized to the teacher who gave me a disapproving stare, and walked towards my seat next to James.

Who looked pissed.

Yeah, I know he always looked that way- but he seemed slightly more irked. 

Dang it, did he find out about me tripping over my shoelaces? God, I hope not.

"I did not trip on the way there," I say quickly before he can open his mouth, only to end up tripping the last moment as I try to sit down, "Oh shoot-"

Even though I manage to prevent myself from falling, the stumble had my arm flailing- 

-and I end up smacking James in the face. 

My eyes widen in mortification as he hisses, jerking his head back. 

"Oh my God," I mumble, as my hands instantly go to my mouth, "I am so sorry, James-"

"You idiot," he snaps, as a hand goes up to his eye, "You nearly took my eye out-"

"I know," I bite my lip in embarrassment as I lean closer, "here, I can help with that- let me see it-"

"Evans," he hisses as I try to gently pry his hand off his face, "No, don't touch me- What are you-"

He goes completely still when one of my hands cup his jaw. 

"Here," I say, gently moving my hand to his eye, to hold it open the best I can. 

I lean a little closer, gently blowing at it- while his whole body stays tense. After a few seconds, I lean back, raising an expectant eyebrow. "Better?"

He just stares as me. 

The eye that I didn't whack, was wide- and the rest of his face was...flushed? 

I tilt my head in confusion. "Are you okay?"

"Y-Yeah," he clears his throat, blinking. His face, if possible, turns redder.

"Are you sure?" my eyebrows furrow in confusion, as I take my hands off his face. For a second, I almost thought he was leaning his face into them, even as I pulled them away.

He clears his throat again. "Yes."

"Your face is a little, um red," I say, bringing a hand back to his face- this time to his forehead- but he didn't seem warmer than usual, "Are you sure you're feeling alright?"

He blinks at me for a second, before he gently pries his hand off me. "I'm fine."

"Oh-kay," I shrug, glancing at the warm hand engulfing mine.

I have to admit, that sometimes- some of these gestures made me feel all funny on the inside. Still, I had been doing my best to pretend