A Good Day

My father was ecstatic, and the team were on their knees, overexaggerating their bowing as I walked up the steps. Michell, who had finished in third, hasn't stopped cackling since finishing the race. But my focus wasn't on any of that. I was focused on the blonde bastard slinking up the stairs to the other side of the stands.

"Hey, Gwen?" I asked as I bent down to the female flier. "Do you know who the other team's butterflier is?" She looked over to the pale bastard.

"Oh, that's Octavian," she answered. "He went to Jupiter High with us. When he didn't get into Olympia, he went ballistic. He started ranting about how it was a second rate college anyway. He and Mike have had a little friendly competition going ever since High school." I almost felt bad for the injured swimmer. To have to deal with a jackass for that long, I honestly wouldn't have kept my sanity. Then again, If Mike had dealt with him correctly, maybe he wouldn't be such an ass. The blonde glowered at me, and I flipped him off, which had Gwen groaning.

"Oh, no. What did Octavian do?"

"He glanced at my tattoos and told me to go back to whatever prison they dragged me out of to compete. So I'm gonna murder him to justify that statement." This had Mitchell cackling louder. Even Miranda and Lacy, who were huddled together next to Gwen giggled.

"Get this man a cookie!" Mitchell called as we made our way up to our own nests. My left shoulder was already cramping after just one race, but I didn't give a fuck. All I wanted to do is shut the fucker up, and to do that, I would need to win every single race.

"Oh, just look at my future brother in law," Thalia coed as I grabbed a towel and dried off. "Out there making enemies, I'm so proud." I rolled my eyes at her.

"Are you cramping?" Mum asked, ignoring Thalia, which I was thankful for. Her eyes were glued to my left shoulder, where the muscles jumped in answer. She silently pulled out Dad's concoction before telling me to sit.

"The moment the idiot opened his mouth I knew today was the day he gets smacked," Mitchell snorted from below me as I sat in front of my mother. With a long drawn out sigh, I finally turned toward Jason and instantly relaxed when I saw his soft smirk. He silently handed me a cookie, and I almost cried. To be fair, half the reason was my mother's thumb pressing down on a knot.

"Well, putting aside Octavian calling you a convict, for now," Jason smiled wider. "You matched the fucking state record?"

"Wait, what?" I screeched as I spun around to my mother for confirmation. The woman giggled with a nod.

"How did you not know that?" Jason frowned.

"I wasn't focussed on my time, I was focussed on beating that asshole." Mum tapped my shoulder, signalling she was done, and I pulled on my hoodie. Jason laughed incredulously.

"Okay, well, don't worry about him. The football players saw you flip him off and have been glaring daggers at him. I think they're planning something, which I wouldn't worry about normally, but since Nico's with them..." He cringed.

"Nico's with them?" I asked, glancing towards the huddle of familiar faces. Sure enough, Nico was sitting next to Will, smirking evilly as he glanced over to Octavian. Will had texted me the day after the party. They didn't have sex, but they had at least kissed after they got back to their apartment.

"Yeah, Will said they're just spending more time together to see whether it can work before they actually try anything."

"Totally Nico's idea." Jason raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, we all know that. Will's going crazy. The frustration is helping his game, though," he shrugged. There was an announcement that the intermission was over and a call for the hundred freestyle swimmers to report. I pulled out my headphones again, hyping myself up for the hundred. Jason turned to talk to my mother. I was grateful that he had easily slipped into the family as if he had always belonged there. Even Thalia seemed more comfortable with my mother than her own father and stepmother.

My phone vibrated with a notification that someone tagged me on Instagram. I opened the app to see the picture. I smiled as I saw Piper's post and searched for her in the stands to see her and Leo waving. The candid photo was zoomed in on Jason and I, with him turned around, hand on my thigh, to display my surname on his back. She had captioned the image with #couplegoals. I double-tapped the post before holding my phone out for Jason.

He still hadn't created an account, even though it would help in effectively building his brand and reputation. I was going to have to force him to do it before the championship game on Monday. I would probably be stuck with running his account for him too, but I didn't mind. This was the part of Zeus's game I could do. I could get us seen by the general public. Jason blushed shyly at the picture.

The hundreds went considerably faster than the two hundreds had, and my father soon called us for the butterfly. I was halfway through the second lap when I realised just how big a mistake it was to go all out in the first race, as my left shoulder started cramping.

I couldn't stop, though. A splash next to me meant Octavian wasn't far behind me and I forced myself to ignore the pain, to push through it. I drove myself forward, going as fast as I could. I had to reach the wall before the inevitable happened, and it did. My shoulder seized up on my last stroke, but I touched the wall, I finished, and I won. I backed up from the wall and my time of 52.31 seconds flashed on the clock. It wasn't the best, but it wasn't bad. I kept my violently twitching and spasming shoulder hidden under the water.

Octavian slapped the water in frustration in the lane next to me, and I didn't even try to hide my grin. Even if it looked slightly more like a grimace. Michael Yew finished in third and Mitchell fourth, which was stellar considering they finished first and second in the hundred-meter breaststroke right before the butterfly. We made our way to the side of the pool, where Mitchell took hold of my right arm and hauled me out, draping a towel over my back.

It was fucking embarrassing. Here I was, two races in, and barely able to move, being helped by the guy who just finished his fourth and final race. By the time I reached my sleeping bag, my muscles were spasming right down to my ass. Luckily for me, there was a break before the fifties would start. Which meant my father had time to try and fix me before my next race. He grabbed the oil from my mother, mercilessly kneading each spasming muscle like dough. All I could do was lie there, hiding my face in a bunched up towel as tears silently ran down my cheeks.

I told myself the worst was over. Just two more fifties and I would be done. I could do that, right? I've already done six laps. I only had two laps left.

"Better?" Dad asked, handing me my hoodie.

"You're buying me a cheeseburger after the meet," I ground out, wiping away the tears before I sat up and pulled my hoodie on. "With fries."

"Of course I am," he smiled. "But for now, fruit juice and peanut butter sandwiches with a banana." Mum handed me a snack packet. I found it amusing how smoothly she transitioned back into the swim mom role. She had prepacked every meal up until an afternoon snack according to the meal plan my father sent her, and she's been making sure I eat everything.

I burrowed into Jason's side, offering him a bite of the banana. The heat radiating off him along with the heating effect of the oil, soothing my shoulder to a dull ache. He tentatively wrapped his arms around me and kissed my head.

"You okay?" he whispered, and I nodded before looking up at him with a smile. I frowned when I saw tears in his eyes.

"What's wrong?" He shook his head, trying to force a smile.

"It's nothing," he whispered. "Just tough seeing you hurting."

"It's nothing," I chuckled. "It comes with the territory. Just like every concussion, bruise, or every pulled or torn ligament you've gotten with football. Any sport has its own curse, and yet we push ourselves to the limit because it's so damn satisfying to break your limits, you know, free yourself from the chains holding you down." I snuggled in closer to him. "Besides, it's totally worth it when I see brats like Octavian throw tantrums when they lose." Jason burst out laughing.

"You..." he wheezed. "You should finish your snack and get ready for your next race," he got out, and I smirked at him.

"Babe, I love you, but I can't right now." His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "You know since you're my snack." I tried to say it with a straight face, but I couldn't resist the smirk that twitched on my lips. He blinked once before realisation sank into those beautiful baby blues. His eyes shot wide as he shoved me off him.

"For fuck's sake, Percy!" he cried ears tinted crimson as he hid his face in his hands. I cackled like a maniac, receiving a swift kick to my right shoulder from my mother. Of course, she would take his side. She probably didn't even hear a thing, but immediately lashed out at me when he seemed slightly flustered. I was still laughing when I pulled out my headphones and put on my music. Yes, my body was sore. Yes, I was dreading my next two races. But, I was oddly excited about it too. Somehow, I felt almost giddy with how today was going so far. I had won two first places, and I fully intended on adding two more to that total.

Maybe I could guilt Jason into a full-body massage tonight, or perhaps he could get in the tub with me. The mere thought made me grin wider.

It was going to be a good day.