Matt Sloan did not like Percy Jackson.

He was obnoxious, and he refused to back down when threatened, like everyone else did. He was so disgustingly "good" that he even hung out with that stupid charity case Tyson that no one else paid any attention to. Even though he was pretty scrawny, he never looked afraid of Matt like everyone else did – instead, he always had this annoying look in his eyes. Like he knew something you didn't.

And for all he tried, Matt could never find anything that would bug Percy personally. Sure, he got annoyed when Matt picked on his retard friend, but there was nothing Matt could say about Percy – whether he insulted his single mother, or his missing father, or his appearance, or his grades – nothing would get him.

And that was why the appearance of the photograph filled Matt with glee.

Everything was going right today. It was the last day of school, all his friends were visiting (and they were big and tough, so that gave him an edge when threatening people, especially Jackson), and the weather was nice. The photograph in Jackson's notebook was the icing on the cake.

They were supposed to be drawing maps, but Matt was blowing his off. It wasn't like it mattered, anyway – it was the last day of school. There was nothing to be gained from actually doing the work. And maps were ridiculously boring anyway. So he was busy hanging out with his friends, looking around at other people's desks hoping he could find something interesting to do, when he saw Jackson open his notebook and gaze at something inside.

Now this was interesting.

Matt leaned over closely, and saw that it was a picture. And if he wasn't mistaken, that – was that a girl?

He reached over and snagged the picture before Percy could close his notebook, ripping the page out and studying it. Percy yelled, "Hey!" but Matt paid him no attention.

It was a girl, all right, and a pretty one at that – she was tan and athletic-looking, with blond curls spilling over her shoulder. Matt couldn't see her face too clearly in the picture, but she was smirking, looking happy about something. Her eyes seemed to pierce through the photograph, but Matt couldn't tell what color they were.

Still, there was no way Percy Jackson could score a girl like that. Zero. Zip.

"No way, Jackson," breathed Matt, inspecting the picture again. "Who is that? She is not your" –

"Give it back!" protested Jackson, but his whole face was turning red, and Matt knew he'd found gold. Finally, he had a way to humiliate Jackson – and something that would actually get at him.

He started by tearing the picture up, handing the pieces to his friends to make into spitballs. Percy winced as the picture ripped, and Matt grinned in satisfaction.

This was going to be fun.

The dodgeball game, though, was not at all fun.

It started out that way. Everything was going Matt's way – he had these new cool friends, and everyone was afraid of them; it was so satisfying to watch those stupid nerds run scared –

But then his friends had started to morph. Their dodgeballs turned into actual fireballs, and they grew and they – well, they weren't his friends after all. They were some kind of weird monsters, and they seemed to know Percy Jackson. He kept up a kind of conversation with them, full of words and threats that Matt didn't understand at all, but Percy seemed to take in stride.

What was going on?

Then, the tide started to turn. Tyson, the stupid homeless kid who Matt had always tormented, was catching the fireballs and throwing them back. Matt wasn't sure what he was seeing – everything seemed to be fading in and out, and sometimes he felt like he had double vision – but he was pretty sure he watched those weird giants just explode, or collapse in on themselves, or something.

Then it was just Percy and Tyson on one side, and the one who'd called himself Joe Bob on the other. And Matt was so confused and dizzy he thought he was about to pass out, but he still didn't understand this strange familiarity Percy had with these guys.

"It's me you want!" yelled Percy, and Matt wondered who on earth would want him.

"You wish to die first, young hero?" laughed Joe Bob. But why was he calling Jackson a hero? What did that even mean? What – what was this?

Percy's face looked conflicted for a moment, and then went hard. He ran forward, into what Matt was sure was suicide – but suddenly, a figure appeared behind Joe Bob and – as Matt watched in shock – thrust a knife into his back.

"Ow," muttered the giant – but somehow he didn't seem so surprised. And then he exploded.

As the dust cleared, the figure that had stabbed the giant resolved itself. Instead of a man, which Matt would have assumed, it was a girl.

A tall, pretty girl with blond curls and ripped clothes.

A girl who looked awfully familiar.

Jackson's girlfriend!

"That's the girl . . ." He couldn't seem to say anything else. "That's . . . the girl . . ."

She walked straight up to him, looking utterly unafraid. Her eyes were gray, he saw – as dangerous and expressive as storm clouds, and they were steely, fixed directly on him. And suddenly, her fist was coming hard at his face, leaving him no time to duck or dodge.

One split second of excruciating pain, and then everything went black.

So, I've been wanting to write this story for a long time. Because there are some moments that happen between Percy and Annabeth that other people watch where I just wonder exactly how they don't realize how indiscreet they're being. So this story is a series of oneshots to explore those moments. Also, this is a repost: I posted this story a few hours ago and for some reason it didn't work. I couldn't click on it. So I'm trying it again. In case I accidentally infringed on copyright or something, I swear I don't own Percy Jackson.

Oh, Matt Sloan. It was so satisfying to watch (read) you get punched in the face.