BROOKLYN HAD LIED to Percy. It wasn't her fault; she didn't know when volleyball tryouts were.

But at least she saw him in the crowd cheering her on as she ran circles around the ( probably former ) main outside hitter as she played to her heart's content. And because she wanted to be better than every other person there. No. She is better than everyone in this room.

They'd put up a notice soon to see what part they'd get, even though Brooklyn knew she'd get the part she wanted easily. She thought that this place had good volleyball players. Well, a lot of the current players were good, but the substitutes . . . well, they could be substituted for other substitutes.

Brooklyn changed out of her workout clothes, walking out of the confusing as shit locker room and meeting up with Percy and Mr. Blofis, her lips involuntarily pulling into a smile when Percy pulled her into a hug.

It's for show, she told herself, just like she'd told herself every other time they initiated a hug. After all, this school also thought that they were dating for reals. For the deniable plausibility with Annabeth and camp and whatnot. But now Percy was popular next to her, so at least they had that.

Then again, popularity wasn't everything. They both knew that. But they couldn't escape their new roles now.

"You were great out there," Percy told her as he pulled away, one of his hands leaving her, but then he'd grabbed her hand with his other one, so it was fine.

"They'll be lucky to have you," Mr. Blofis agreed.

Brooklyn beamed. "Thanks! I think the court's where I'm meant to be, you know? It just feels right. That's why, you know, I transferred over here."

"Not because of me?" Percy pouted.

"Keep dreaming, Flounder," her smile stayed as they walked off, walking to Paul's car. "Thanks for taking me to your home, Mr. Blofis. I appreciate it."

He shrugged. "Anything for my favorite student."

"You're lying," Percy accused. "There's no way Tinkerbell is your favorite when she's been here for all of two days."

"Yeah, but I participate, Percy."

"Your group of admirers forced you to do it. You also have dyslexia, right?"

"Xander's used a translator to translate everything into Ancient Greek so I can read it," Brooklyn shrugged. "I can tell him to make another copy for you as well, if you want one. They're the only reasons why I've been able to pass English and social studies classes."

"That'd be cool," Percy sent her a small smile, so unlike his usual smirk. It's not as if the smile showed up less than the smirk, but it seemed more . . . special, when directed at you, than the smirk.

She didn't know. She shouldn't think about it too much. Thinking's bad for her brain.

They stopped in front of a Prius, and Brooklyn slid into the back next to Percy. It was comfortable. Not a lot of stuff was in it, but there was enough stuff to be a slight problem.

"Sorry," he muttered, shoving some of the stuff away as the car started going.

"You are so messy," she huffed, leaning against the cushions and crossing her arms.

"Wait 'till you see my room," he smirked at her.

"Can it be any worse than your cabin?" Brooklyn rolled her eyes.

"At least Tyson cleans our cabin," Percy shrugged.

"Yeah, if I was your mother or Mr. Blofis, I wouldn't step foot into your room," she scrunched up her nose. "Tyson's forced to sleep in your cabin. Even I clean my cabin better than you do."

"Says the one with dust everywhere in her cabin."

"It's not my fault that stupid statue gets dust on it even right after I brush it away," she grumbled, her lips forming into a pout as she stared at her arms. She shuddered just thinking of it. "Maybe I should petition to get rid of it."

"You should," Percy nodded. "I'm getting tired of feeling like he's staring at us while we're hanging out."

"Try when you're sleeping," Brooklyn scoffed. "Thalia's stuff is in the only alcove that's hidden by his point of view, so it's not like I can use it. And the cot is so uncomfortable, Percy. We need to go on a heist to steal a good mattress for me."

"I'm down," he said immediately. "Which cabin? I recommend the Ares cabin."

She frowned. "Do you think that they sleep on actually good mattresses?" she asked. "They probably sleep on the spoils of their enemies."

He considered that. "True," he said. "Where else? I will be very happy if you say Hera."

Thunder rumbled in the distance, but Brooklyn was all too used to it. Because she badmouthed the gods often, especially Hera, who hated her existence because she'd existed, which, hello, she didn't ask to be in this world. And because she could make thunder out of thin air if she wanted to. Her powers were impressively strong compared to her abilities with blades. We don't talk about that. Not again.

But Percy had trained her during their two months together in camp. She had gotten better, though her method did still rely on just swinging her bat and hoping for the best.

Speaking of Camp Half-Blood . . .

"We should make a statement," Brooklyn said, "and go for the Athena cabin."

Percy stared at her for a second before saying, "I hate how serious you are while saying these stupid things."

"Uno reverse card." She wished that she had gum in her mouth to chew obnoxiously to him.

"No, you," he said reflexively. "I bought a pack of Uno cards recently. Continue the tournament when we get home?"

"Hell — uh, sorry, heck yeah," she had an apologetic smile on her face, before it turned into a smirk. "I'm winning right now," she explained to Mr. Blofis. "Like, a hundred and fifty-two to a hundred and thirty-eight."

"You two have played nearly three hundred games of Uno?" Mr. Blofis asked.

Brooklyn counted on her fingers, raising her eyebrows surprisingly when all of them were up. "Two hundred and ninety," she told Percy.

"You can do math?" he asked her innocently.

She poked him menacingly with her finger. "Don't. You. Dare."

"Fine," he said, though his eyes flickered with mirth. "Ten games today so it's an even three hundred?"

"Deal," she grabbed his hand and forcefully shook it. Then she noticed that they had pulled up into a parking garage. Since when?

"Come on, Wendy Darling," Percy told her. "Let's go so you can insult my room for fifteen minutes straight."

"You're just naming every Peter Pan character now," she rolled her eyes, but she got out of the car with minor difficulties. We don't talk about the fall she nearly made.

"Yeah, well, they can all fly," he said.

"I can't," she muttered under her breath.

But he heard her. "You can't fly?" he asked her, genuinely shocked.

"You didn't know this?" Brooklyn frowned.

"Maybe children of Zeus can't fly," Percy said. "Thalia's never tried."

"Doesn't mean she can't."

"Why can't you?"

She looked at him, unimpressed. "Do you really expect me to have an answer for that?"

He stayed quiet, and she felt her lips pull into a smirk. She loved it when she was right.

They went up an elevator and Mr. Blofis opened the door to a cozy little apartment with a lot of blue accents and a lot of care. So unlike her own house.

"Honey, I'm home!" Mr. Blofis called.

Percy and Brooklyn shared a disgusted glance. She bent down to take off her shoes as a woman with sparkling blue eyes that were a lot darker than Brooklyn's and a kind smile gave Mr. Blofis a small kiss.

"Do not talk about this outside of here," Percy whispered to Brooklyn.

She felt a shiver crawl down her spine at his lips brushing her ear, but it was a good shiver. At least, she hoped it was. "What happens in Vegas," she shrugged.

"Have you ever gone?" he asked. "To Vegas?"

"Of course I have, who do you take me for?" Brooklyn rolled her eyes. But she had a smirk on her face as she zipped two of her fingers across her lips. "But we don't talk about what happened in Vegas. Because what happens in Vegas, Ursula—"

"Stays in Vegas," he finished. "So I don't have to tell you about my Vegas trip."

"You're legally obligated to not tell me," she snorted. "Do I need to repeat it a third time?"

"No, please d—"

"Percy," a feminine voice interrupted. They both turned to look at his mother, who was looking at him pointedly. "Are you going to introduce me to your friend?"

"Right!" Percy cleared his throat. "Brooks, this is my mom. Mom, this is Brooklyn Hayward. Daughter of Zeus. And my, uh . . . fake girlfriend."

His mother's eyebrows raised. "Fake girlfriend?"

"It's a long story," he said.

"It's really not," Brooklyn rolled her eyes at him, but she gave his mother a charming smile. "It is very nice to meet you, Ms. Jackson."

"It's nice to meet you too, Brooklyn," Ms. Jackson smiled at her. "But, please, call me Sally."

"Alright, Ms — sorry, Sally," Brooklyn replied.

"So you're Thalia's sister, huh?" Ms. Jackson asked.

Brooklyn felt herself light up at the mention of her sister. "Yeah! Thalia's my, like, favorite sister. She's my only sister, so there's not really any other option, but at least she gives me gifts whenever she stops by."

Percy's eyebrows furrowed. "Thalia comes by? And gives you gifts?"

"She didn't come by last summer," she explained. "But, yeah, she's come by. Takes me out to whatever restaurant she wants. And she gives me gifts! Like the Uno set I have at camp. That was from her."

"Where did she get that from?" he asked.

"She bought it in, like, Idaho or something," she shrugged. "I don't know. It was just somewhere obscure."

"Speaking of Uno," Percy nodded to a hallway. "Shall we continue our tournament?"

Brooklyn gave him a crooked grin. "I physically can't lose," she said, "cause I have . . ." she counted on her fingers quickly. "Fourteen more wins than you, sucker."

He rolled his eyes. "You're the most immature person ever," he told her, starting to walk to a door.

"Shouldn't have asked me to fake date you if you can't handle it," she quipped as he opened a door, gesturing for her to come in.

She walked in, faintly hearing him close the door behind them. She was just staring at Percy's room, immediately blurting, "gods of Olympus, your room really is worse than your cabin."

"I know." Percy sat on a chair, grabbing a pack of Uno cards and clearing out a spot on the desk. "Ready to lose, Hayward?"

"In your dreams, Jackson." Brooklyn gingerly sat on his bed crisscross applesauce.

After playing their ten games — she won seven of them, suck on that, Percy — they sat, him on the floor and her still on the bed, her hands behind her as she leaned on them, talking about the people in their school.

"They love PDA," he told her. "It's absolutely disgusting."

"Ew," she commented.

Percy nodded in agreement, and they sat in silence.

But Brooklyn's mind was running, as fast as she could — which was pretty fast, because she's Brooklyn Hayward. If the students of Goode High wanted a show . . .

"So do you, like, wanna kiss in public, then?" she asked. And then she added, because she has to, "cause I'm so popular, you know."

"I mean . . ." Percy frowned. "It's good practice."

"Yeah," Brooklyn said. After a beat of silence, she blurted out, "so, practice?"

He stared at her. "No way you're saying what I'm thinking."

"Kiss me, Percy Jackson," her eyebrows raised as she leaned back further, smirking at him. "Because you're the one who wanted this arrangement to happen."

"What does that have to do with me kissing you?" Percy asked.

"Let go of the wheel, Perce," she whispered. "It's the bullet lane."

He was frozen, sitting there. And then he scrambled on his feet and took a couple steps forward so his legs were leaning against the bed. He leaned forward, and he was so close, Brooklyn could feel his breath, but their lips weren't touching. So, naturally, she closed the gap.

And, fuck, as he kissed her back, she realized quickly that she was becoming rapidly addicted to this. The feeling of kissing him. His lips. Everything. She's heard of shit like heroin and morphine being addicting, but she figured that Percy's lips are more addicting than drugs.

No. She shouldn't let her mind wander in that direction. That would only end in an all out war or something.

She pulled away from him, a teasing smirk on her lips, putting on her normal face. "Damn, Jackson, I can see why Annabeth wants you so badly."

Percy's face wrinkled. "Do not."

"What're you gonna do about it, Moana?" Brooklyn asked.

"I hate you," he told her, but then he kissed her again, and after that, her mind went foggy.