AN: Don't own PJO! And Happy Valentine's Day everyone!

I don't even like the color red, Annabeth grumbled to herself as she took in her classroom's holiday decor. A string of cut-out hearts draped across the whiteboard, and tacky candy hearts with sayings like WOULD U B MINE and UR QT scattered around the walls matched the full jar of them on the front desk. (Don't even get Annabeth started on the poor grammar on those things.) Along with that, a cut-out of a big, diaper-wearing Cupid stood right next to the door. Mrs. Roy, her enthusiastic teacher, herself was decked out in the "coolest" of Valentine's Day gear—dark red jeans, a black blouse with a pattern of hearts adorning it, and a headband that had two hearts light up whenever she pressed the button, which was actually kind of cool to a six-year old, Annabeth had to admit since it did cater to her demographic.

Despite teaching a bunch of kindergarteners who've only ever felt love towards a) their parents or b) a random puppy, Mrs. Roy went all out, and it showed.

"Okay, kids!" Mrs. Roy chirped and clapped her hands together one, two, three times to get her students' attention. Annabeth, of course, looked up at the first clap. "Time to open up all those awesome cards you got! Remember to thank everyone who gave you one!"

And with a chorus of "Yes, Mrs. Roy," Annabeth's teacher sent out a bright smile before walking to a blonde (Jerry? Annabeth wondered. Jacob?) who had opened the jar and was choking on a candy heart. Candy hearts were apparently safety hazards now, and not to be consumed by little kids. Annabeth cringed for her fellow classmate. She already had a feeling that those candy hearts weren't exactly as sweet as candy anymore, and probably had been in that jar for years, and probably had the same taste and consistency as chalk, but she supposed that her friends hadn't gotten the memo. Once the boy successfully dislodged the substance from his throat, he went back to his seat as if nothing had happened, and Mrs. Roy watched him warily, as if she were waiting for him to suddenly latch his mouth onto the Cupid cut-out's paper bow and arrow.

Annabeth took that as her cue to begin sorting through the cards in her box. When she opened the sticker-covered lid and took a whiff of sugar and dried glue, she's already irritated. Okay, so first of all, everything in her box wasn't sincere in the slightest, since all the kids had to get each other cards to make sure no one felt left out. Or, so there wouldn't be a kid without any cards, because, to be honest, that kid would've been Annabeth, and how embarrassing would that have been? Nonetheless, Annabeth inhaled deeply and dove right in, grabbing as many cards as she could with her meaty hands and dropping them onto her desk.

The pile ended a lot sooner than she had thought originally.

She stared down at the paper collection, looks at the others' out of the corner of her eyes, and then full-out glared at her little cluster for being so miniscule and inferior in comparison. How dare you, she wanted to scold. How dare you make me look so bad.

Sure, the number of cards matched the number of students in her kindergarten class, but all she received were the small, lame cards that came in those packs with the lame sayings that you gave to people you just had to give valentines to. Some kids, like Silena, got more cards. Double, triple the amount of cards, with the good stuff on them plus Tootsie pops, and Annabeth couldn't deny the spark of jealousy that shot through her. She couldn't even count on her fingers how many times a boy from her class had gone up to her and wished her a "Happy Valentine's Day!" and then had said "Iloveyou" really fast afterwards.

Personally, Annabeth thought love was almost as stupid as Valentine's Day, but she might be bias since her dad started seeing a woman named Helen. But, Annabeth digresses.

All she saw was red—literally, and in various shades. Pink as well. The cards alternated from red to pink to red to pink, with the occasional white card, and the occasional store-bought one. She had one in her box with a pony that said "Are you ready to party tonight, Valentine?" and she didn't think that was appropriate for school, really, and she was almost about to ask Mrs. Roy about it until she saw her worrying over that blonde again.

Apparently, he attempted to eat the stapler. Jason (That's his name! Annabeth suddenly remembers) blamed Mrs. Roy for making it look so edible. Jason then got sent to the nurse's office, and Mrs. Roy placed the stapler on the high shelf, which was now joined by a box of safety pins, an electric pencil sharpener, and reed pipes.

Annabeth decided not to consult Mrs. Roy for fear of making her life even harder, so she merely tucked the pony card underneath the neat stack of cards she had already read. There was only one card left in her to read pile, and it was sloppy, very sloppy. When she opened it, she immediately shut it and groaned. She'd been attacked by glitter. So much glitter. A massive volcano of glitter had erupted from the card and exploded onto her desk.

"Piper," Annabeth growled and gritted her teeth. She could already hear Piper's snickering in the corner. Scooping as much of the glitter into the card as she could, she waddled over to the trashcan, careful not to drop a single sparkle, and threw it away like a civilized kindergartener.

(Annabeth would get her back during foursquare, anyway.)

Upon sitting back in her seat, Annabeth blinked in surprise. There was another card that she swore wasn't there before. It wasn't red or pink or white or store-bought or pony-ish like the other ones—it was blue. Annabeth snatched it up and eagerly opened it. It's blue on blue, which was a really bad decision on the card maker's part, and Annabeth could barely even read it, but she recognized the handwriting instantly—it's Percy's. She recognizes the crude lettering and the backwards 'e' and the spelling mistakes.

It says "I liek you alot" with small, blue hearts near the bottom that were badly colored in. That itself made Annabeth grin, but when she saw not one, but two blue Tootsie pops and a piece of strawberry taffy taped onto the construction paper, she smiled, teeth and all. It was her one blue card, and she hugged it against her chest in glee. Then, she looked up and scanned the room for a certain boy with messy black hair and bright, sea-green eyes.

When she saw him, she stood up and whisper-yelled, "Percy!" Thankfully, his ears were working for once; Percy turned his head, meeting Annabeth's gaze with raised eyebrows and a half-opened mouth forming the word, "Wha?"

Annabeth simply smiled and waved.

Percy looked confused and scrunched his eyebrows together, waving warily.

Annabeth sighed and pointed at the blue card she was hugging towards her chest.

Percy smiled widely in understanding, waving with more vigor, and Annabeth sat back down in her seat and grinned at her desk.

So maybe Annabeth didn't like Valentine's Day, but she sure did like getting cards from her best friend. And so maybe Annabeth didn't like red, but she was sure that she liked blue. And there might be a slight chance that Annabeth actually did like red, but only the same shade that was on Percy's cheeks when she mouthed the words Thank you.

(And maybe, love wasn't really all that stupid, but then again, Annabeth was just a kindergartener, and what did kindergartener know about love, anyway?)

AN: Finally, I wrote a fic for a holiday on time. This is so amazing. I hope you guys have a great day today—whether you're single or not, just have fun! And it'd be super cool if you left a review or even dropped a fave.

Small Blue Hearts and Valentine's Day Cards.

~Taffeh

EDIT: THANK YOU TO EMPTY THOUGHTS FOR BREAKING THE REVIEW PAGE. DAMN YOU, TERRI.