Annabeth
I tap my foot impatiently on the white marble floor. I hate the shoes they have me wear here - they remind me of hospital shoes, shapeless and white. Nothing here is really great. Another wave of resentment for my dad rises up in my stomach, making me sink my nails into the crescent shaped cuts already etched into my palms. It's for your own good, Annabeth, he'd say. But it's not. Not really. It's what he thinks I need.
More people begin to show up; everyone has scowls ingrained into the lines of their faces, and we all have to wear the same white cotton shirts and pants. Apparently my dad paid a fortune to have me admitted into here. Anything to keep me away, I suppose.
A new girl shuffles in, purple rings beneath her eyes. She slumps into the chair next to me before turning towards me. "So. Is this place really as bad as it seems?" She looks like the kind of girl I wouldn't have liked much at school - long, wavy brown hair, big brown eyes, and gorgeous caramel colored skin. Even in the standard clothes and looking like she hasn't showered in a week, she could walk a runway.
I sigh. Social life doesn't exist here. Not much does. "Well, if you like talking about your feelings and being treated like you're five again, this place is fabulous," I reply dryly.
The girl cracks a smile, revealing perfectly straight white teeth. "I'm Piper," she tells me. "I'm telling you that because everyone else I've tried to talk to has done nothing but bullshit me."
"Annabeth," I reply, just as the circle is completed.
And by the circle, I mean 9:00 AM talk session. Let me paint you a picture - seven chairs arranged in a sad circle in one of the randomly empty rooms at Hera's Home for Troubled Youth. Seven troubled youth sitting in said circle, glaring at each other and wishing they could be anywhere else. And of course, the queen Hera herself seated in the middle of the circle like a preschool teacher at storytime. We're her first group of the day. She'd never say it, but I overheard some of the orderlies talking about how we were the high risk group. High risk, my ass. We're the group who paid the most to be sent to this hellhole.
"Good morning," says Hera in her infuriatingly calm voice. She smiles at the circle, turning on her spinning stool so she can look at all of us. Her eyes have always reminded me of honey - slow and warm and golden brown.
Nobody says anything. She purses her thin lips before they twist back up into a tranquil smile. "Let's start with the usual." She clears her throat and smoothes her hair around her tight bun. "I'm Hera. I'm 46 years old. And today, I'm feeling like I could accomplish anything." She ends her usual cheesy statement with a wide grin, flashing her slightly coffee stained teeth. I swear, I'd be rich if I printed out all of Hera's sayings and put them on inspirational posters.
The circle remains silent. I catch Piper's eyes and she rolls them dramatically. I decide that I like her.
"Annabeth," I jerk my head up. Hera has her eyes fixed on me, her artificial smile never faltering. My nails find their mark again, and I feel a bit of blood well up around my right pinkie finger.
"I'm Annabeth," I begin dryly. "I'm 17 years old. I feel fine." I can't help but to curl my lip a bit at the end.
Hera tilts her head in mock sympathy. "And how are you doing? Holding up without all of those toxic drugs and alcohol?" She surveys the circle. No one meets her eyes. "It was a pretty disastrous combination," she reminds everyone. I grit my teeth.
"Fine," I manage to get out. She smiles.
"Good. Next?"
"I'm Leo. I'm 15. And I hate this fucking place."
"Language."
"I'm Jason. I'm almost 17. And I'm good."
"I'm Hazel. I'm 14. And I feel tired today."
"I'm Frank. I'm 16, and I'm good too."
"I'm Nico."
Hera lifts an eyebrow at the sudden silence. "And how old are you?" I frown. She already knows all of this. It's a mindless practice.
"15."
She doesn't bother asking how he is. He wouldn't answer, anyways. "Next?"
"I'm Piper. 17. And I can't wait to leave." She flashes a dazzling smile around the circle.
Hera frowns for a second. "Thank you, everyone, for those introductions." Her face resumes it's usual state again, the frown melting away like snow on a hot day. "Now let's begin."
"Is it always that bad?" I look behind me. How Piper found me, I have no idea - but there she is, standing behind me. She's rolled the waistline of her pants up and unbuttoned more than a few of her top buttons on her shirt.
I pat the bit on the roof next to me. It's the only place I really like here. I have roof access from my window. It's supposed to be locked at all times; as if I couldn't pick a lock. She sits next to me. "No," I admit. This morning was pretty brutal.
Piper groans and dangles her feet off over the gutter. "So. Annabeth. Tell me how you landed here." She closes her eyes and tilts her head back so the sun illuminates her face.
"Well, I lived with my dad and his new wife and her two kids. Real brats. They spoil them. Anyways, he'd always kind of wanted to get rid of me. He had me when he was 19, and my mom left me with him before disappearing. I've never met her." I scowl out across the back lawn. It would be a pretty view if I didn't hate this place so much. A marble fountain, a white gazebo, a garden full of strawberries surrounded by tall fences. You'd never guess this place was an hour away from New York.
"Anyway, as he started caring less and less about me I spent less and less time at home. So I started smoking. And drinking, every night. Then I started finding different kinds of pills. You know, trying to find the kind that would work for me." I turn to look at her. She still has her face towards the sun, but nods for me to continue. "Then one day, he found some of the pills in my room. Dug a little deeper, found my cigarettes, my liquor stash. Next thing I know, he's dropped me here and hasn't tried to reach me since."
Piper opens her eyes and turns to me. "Fucked up," she says. "What he did," she adds, unnecessarily.
"What about you?" I ask, genuinely interested. I never talk to anyone here. Don't exactly have any friends. I've never been good at making them, anyways.
Piper laughs. She has a pretty laugh, loud and clear like running water. "Oh, the classic tale. Poor little Piper McLean-"
"Wait, McLean?" I interrupt. She can't mean the Piper McLean, daughter of Tristan McLean. Half of the movies I've seen have had him in them.
She rolls her eyes. "Yeah. Tristan McLean's daughter. Anyways, as you can probably guess, he's away a lot, and he always leaves me with his awful assistant. So it was getting harder and harder to get his attention. So I went to a car dealership, and I went on a few dates with the manager." She pauses. "I often dated guys who were a lot older. Dad never noticed. Well, in return, I convinced him to give me a car. A few days later, he freaked and told me to give it back. I said no, just to be a bitch, and he called the police on me. Then it's on the news that Tristan McLean's troubled daughter stole a car. So he sent me here."
"Wow," I say, unsure of what else I could respond with.
She cracks a small grin at me. "So we're both fucked up. Good. I need a friend who's equally as fucked up as I am so I don't feel so bad about being like this."
I laugh a little. I haven't laughed since before I got here, a month and a half ago. "I could use one too," I admit.
"So tell me." She leans in on her elbows. "I want to know about all of those other poor troubled youth in our little group of screwed up rich kids. Especially that Jason. I've had every flavor of boy but vanilla."
I grin. "Well, I'm not even sure how Jason could ever be bad enough to get in here. Supposedly, he had some memory issues at school. Like, he got in this accident and had short term memory loss for a while. Some kid was messing with him, saying he knew things he'd forgotten but wouldn't tell him. Jason's crazy ripped. He started beating up on this guy and put him in the hospital. Then, I guess he came here."
Piper pouts a little. "Wow. I thought he'd be a bit badder. He's still cute though. What about the others?"
"Leo is a classic case of hyperactive freak. He burned down his high school 'on accident.' Hazel stole some expensive jewelry and was selling it off at school. She's a total kleptomaniac. Never turn your back on her if you can help it. Frank was, for some reason, helping import illegal wildlife for his estate. Weird. Oh, and Nico? He never talks."
She groans. "A bunch of crazies and a good boy."
"Pretty much."
"And then us," she replies.
I nod. "And then us."
Silence grows between as as we both look out over the garden. "We eat dinners in our rooms," I tell her.
"I'm sneaking into yours," she replies.
"Okay."
"Excuse me?" An unfamiliar voice sounds from behind us. An orderly is staring out of my room, eyes wide. Again, we aren't supposed to be on the roof. Oops.
I exchange an exasperated look with Piper and we drop back into my room. The orderly sighs. "I won't tell Hera. Just don't do it again." He smiles faintly. "Head back to your room, okay? Dinner's in five minutes." Piper flips her hair and strolls out of the doorway, shutting my door behind her.
I sit on my bed and lean back against my pillows. I could really use a cigarette. Or a beer. Or anything, really. I decide to humor the orderly. "Don't suppose you could get me a cig, huh?"
He pulls up the chair at my unused desk and sits on it. "I wish I could, but I think I'd get fired."
I survey him. He must be new here. I've never seen him before. He looks young, maybe 22 or 23. His dark hair is messy and makes him look boyish. But his eyes...they're the most brilliant shade of sea green. He wears the typical orderly uniform, a dark blue button up and black slacks. Percy is stitched in white on his shirt.
"You new here, Percy?" I ask. His name sounds satisfying when I say it out loud.
Something flickers in his eyes - doubt? He nods, and the look is gone. "Yes. I've been assigned to your room."
I sigh. "Wow. Lucky me. I'm so high risk that I've gotten my own orderly? I really must be the luckiest girl on Earth."
He smiles. I didn't expect him to. "Can I call you Annabeth?"
I almost say no, but I definitely don't want him to call me Miss Chase or anything corny like that. "Sure."
"Well, I'll go if you want me to. But I think it would be...beneficial if we got to know each other. You can trust me."
"Can I?" I challenge.
I notice his fingers tighten around a leather cord around his neck, one with a few clay beads strung onto it. His hand falls and the necklace disappears back beneath his shirt. "I'm not going to tell Hera that you were on the roof. And I won't lock the window."
There's a knock at the door. "Come in," Percy calls.
A different orderly brings me breakfast and a small cup with white tablets in it. "What are these?" I ask flatly.
The orderly deadpans, "Antidepressants. Hera has decided that you need them." She turns and leaves the room.
"Has she now," I mutter to myself. I set my dinner on the bedside table and pop the pills in my mouth, swallowing them dry. Maybe if I pretend they're something else, I can convince myself that they are.
"You should eat," Percy says.
I eye him strangely. "We'll see."
The ghost of a laugh tugs at his mouth. "I'll see you tomorrow...Annabeth." He gets up, slides the chair back into place, and leaves the room. As soon as my door closes, I grab my glass of water and down it quickly before falling back into bed.
That night, I dream of nothing but white pills, warm caramel skin, and eyes the color of the ocean on a hot day.
Hope y'all like it! I've never really written a Percy Jackson fanfic before so I hope this is on par with the standards here. If you liked it, drop a review, I'd really appreciate some feedback!
Of course, I don't own Percy Jackson, yada yada. I own nothing but the plot.