"It's a new year, Percy. Anything is possible."
We sat in the back corner of the dining pavilion, just the two of us, as the rest of the campers shuffled off to the fire pit for a new year's eve singalong. Grover had invited us to go sit with him and Juniper, but Annabeth wasn't in the mood, and I decided to hang back with her. We were in the middle of a pretty intense conversation.
She was wearing a black puffy coat, jeans, and winter boots. Her blond curls sprung out from under a green knit hat, and I couldn't help but think how much I liked that color on her. It was the color of the sea, and it suited her. It brought out her sparkling gray eyes even more than usual. Not that I was paying attention to that. Gods, why was I getting so distracted? What were we talking about? I looked away from Annabeth, who had already been looking away from me (probably because I wasn't as distractingly pretty as she was), and tried to get my mind back on track.
"I know anything is possible, Wise Girl. But that's not the point. Anything was possible last year too, but it didn't happen, did it? At least… not the 'anything' you're hoping for." She glared at the floor, her lips pursed and her eyebrows knitting together as she thought of a response. This was the face she made when she knew someone else was right, but she didn't want to admit it. That didn't happen often; usually Annabeth was keenly aware of the truth, being a daughter of the wisdom goddess, and she wasn't well acquainted with denial. However I knew that this was one subject she wasn't going to let go of easily. And I didn't blame her. How could I? Demigod or not, she was only human.
I softened my tone, aware that my words were hurting her. "Annabeth I… I hate to see you like this. I'm not telling you to give up hope. I just don't want to see you get hurt again. You need to remember what he did. He isn't the same guy you knew when you were seven." A tear trickled down her cheek as I said this last part, and I was taken over by the compulsion to lift my hand and wipe it away. Don't cry, Wise Girl. I probably should have stopped talking, but I knew she needed to hear this next part. She needed to be reminded of the truth in order to come out of this. "We don't even know if that part of him still exists. I mean, you saw him in the Labyrinth... He's Kronos now."
For a few minutes, or maybe for a hundred years, she sat so still that I thought she hadn't even heard me. It had started to snow at some point during the night, though I was just realizing it now, and the moisture had caused her hair to frizz at the bottom. I liked the way the light from the full moon caught on her little wisps that had escaped her tight curls, creating a golden glow around her shoulders. Snowflakes landed on her coat, her hat, in her hair, even on her eyelashes. She still didn't move. I wondered if this is what she would look like as a statue in Medusa's garden. Gods, that had been so long ago. We were TWELVE. We had been through so much since then. So much had changed. I felt like I wanted to tell her something, but I wasn't exactly sure what. It probably wasn't, "You'd make a nice statue."
Finally she broke the silence and sniffed, wiping her nose and eyes on the bottom of her sleeve. The statue illusion had been shattered. This was just Annabeth. Sad, lonely Annabeth.
"You know," she said. "I still remember the New Years eve we spent together on the streets. Luke and Thalia and I. We made resolutions. I remember it so clearly…"
"What were they?" I asked softly. For some reason I was a little afraid to hear the answer.
"We all promised the same thing. To be a family and stand by each other no matter what." She looked into my eyes. Hers were foggy and rimmed with red. Her eyebrows scrunched together and she looked away, clearly trying not to cry again. Annabeth's fatal flaw was hubris. Pride. I suddenly realized the extent of how difficult it must have been for her to share this with me; for her to let me see her this vulnerable. We had fought countless monsters together. I'd seen her outsmart, outmaneuver, and outfight endless enemies on the battlefield. None of them had been more than she could handle. But none of them had been Luke, either. Her first love, I thought bitterly.
She scooted closer to me and, after a moment's hesitation, rested her head on my shoulder. I brought up my hand and rubbed her head awkwardly. I want to help. Gods, how can I help?
We stayed like that for a while; her head on my shoulder as she sniffled, my back stiff as I tried to think of the right thing to say. We didn't move until we saw the last of the campers making their way from the dimming fire pit to their cabins. We heard the screeches of harpies, coming out to punish any campers still out of bed, and slowly Annabeth lifted her head from my shoulder. She left me feeling warm, though it was fleeting. She stood up and faced me, and I looked up into her cloudy gray eyes again. She opened her mouth then closed it, thinking. Finally she said, "This year may not bring what I'm hoping for, Seaweed Brain. But I'm glad I get to face whatever it does bring with you at my side." She leaned in closer and almost whispered, "Luke may be gone, but you're here. And that's the most important thing." She kissed the top of my head and walked in the direction of her cabin. It was a confusing kiss. I hadn't been about to die like on Mount St. Helen's, so it wasn't a good luck kiss, or a goodbye kiss. It could have held sisterly affection or romantic sentiment, but I couldn't tell which. And then I realized that, for the time being, it didn't really matter.
By the time I stood up to start the trek back to the Poseidon cabin, Annabeth was out of sight and the tingling on my scalp had faded until it became just the ghost of a memory.