Okay so, I have pretty much re-written all of the chapters because everything was twelvie quality and it made me cringe more than my Year 2 school photos. I know if this'll work cuz I said so ... HA. I started this in June and procrastination just built up and urgh. I must remind you that I am a 9th grade student who is now 14 yay, who is who gets homework and assignments on a daily basis and this year I want to stop my straight B streak. (I got like 4 A's so yippee). OH YEAH AND FREAKING BLOOD OF OLYMPUS!

PROLOGUE

Annabeth PoV

"Annabeth! Your father is calling you!" Susan calls again from the kitchen. Urgh.

"ANNABETH!" I roll off my comfy bed and put my bookmark into my book. In the past one hour, Susan probably called me 10 times on separate occasions to get downstairs. And most of the time, it was because 'Oh, I already did it. Perhaps you should come when I actually call you, not 10 weeks after' . Sometimes I think she doesn't want me to finish this book. I've literally got 100 more pages left. Can't she let me read in peace?

I slowly but loudly walk down the stairs, just to piss off Susan. She doesn't like the thumping noise. She lectures me about it like she lives in the cupboard under the stairs. I would never like her half as much as I loved Harry Potter. How does she even hear it from all the way from the lounge? I don't know how she does it I swear her ears are more sensitive than the BFG's. And trust me, I am not exaggerating here. I jump from the fourth step from the floor and land unnecessarily loudly. I heard a loud sigh from the lounge. Mission accomplished. I skid along the kitchen tiles. Perks of wearing fluffy socks. And walk over to the study. I wonder why he wants to talk to me personally; it's not something he does often. He is usually wrapped up in his work. Quite literally. There was this one time his legs got tangled around a really long sheet of paper. There was no door to his study but it seemed as though all the sound died out at the threshold, and because of this it would get uncomfortably quiet in there. That's why I can't read in there, and there are other reasons...

I walk into the mini library of a study. New books, old books, coffee smelling books, gross smelling books, fat books, thin books, colourful books, dull coloured books, tall books, small books. All organised in a mess on the shelves. I don't think there isn't one without bookmarks or stickers dangling out. He should get this dusted because I'm pretty sure he would catch the plague with the amount of dust on the shelves. In contrast to the mess of a bookshelf, Dad's desk is relatively neat. Well compared to his bookshelf that is. Just a 'few' books open wide covering the desk, a pencil tin (which is the probably the neatest thing in the room) and his laptop which is resting on another opened book. This is one other reason why I don't read here; this room screams health hazard.

"Dad? You wanted to talk?" I ask as I make my way to the armchair near his desk. I pick up the books and papers on the armchair and dramatically drop them on the carpet next to the armchair. I dust off my hands and settle myself inside the armchair. He intensely stares at me.

"I am just making space," I say innocently. He rolls his eyes.

"Anyways, I know that you will never approve of how I prefer to treat this room but I have some news you might be excited about," he begins excitedly but nervously if that's possible.

"Keep going" I say urging him to continue.

"Well you might not like it because you have managed to fit in very well in this school," he continues loosing the excitement but still nervous as he fiddles with his glasses. He is going to break the lens if he cleans the lens like that.

"Aaannd..." I say making an urging gesture with my hands and leaning forward from the arm chair.

"Well you probably will like it because, what am I saying you will be delighted! But then again you might pull of a scene-"he rants on avoiding eye contact.

I give him a blank bored look.

He sighs then says, "Well I got a better job offer at New York so we'll be moving back," he says in a cheerful but asking manner as though he was asking for my approval.

Wait What?

When Did This Happen?

I stare at him expectantly waiting for him to say 'AHAHA! YOU FELL FOR IT!'
10 seconds. Why isn't he laughing and telling me that I got fooled?
20 seconds. I think he actually means it. 2 words.

Oh gods.

"Okay," I say as emotionlessly as possible. Someone has to be rational in the room and it isn't going to be him. He raises an eyebrow as though expecting an argument.

"So you're fine?" he asks disbelievingly.

"Yeah," I say trailing off. NO!

"No protesting? No saying 'it is going to be awkward'?" he asks TRYING (important adjective there) imitating me. I nod slowly.

Of course not! Coming back after 2 years is certainly not going to raise a few question marks within the grade.

'Oh hey, you're the new kid. Let me show you around'

'Oh it's okay, I know this school like I know my 13 timetables'

'But you're new'

'Ahaha, did you disappear for the last two years 'cause I swear I haven't seen you since'

'Did you leave and come back? How awkward it must be'

'No shit William Sherlock Scott Holmes!'

"In that case you should start packing because we're leaving in two days. School starts on Tuesday so you'll get Monday to unpack," he says over cheerfully. With a sigh of relief, he gets up and dusts off his pants. It is usually an expression when you dust off anything but he always has something. In this case it was some dust. Or powder. Or pencil shavings. Oh gods. Do I have to leave? I mean it took me two years to actually like this school a bit. Well there are some pros which should be accounted for when it comes to leaving this high school for Goode.

The mean people to nice people ratio in this high school is 7:3

Goode's ratio would be 2:8

Well that is probably because of the fact that I'm friends with quite a lot of people at Goode and that the people at this school don't like newbies.

All my friends are at Goode.

4 pros. That's good enough right? That should be enough. After all it's not like anything has changed in 2 years. Everyone probably went through puberty or something. Grover would probably still have his goatee. I wonder if the twins shaved it off as a prank. Knowing the twins, they'd probably do something more ... creative. And then they'd get beaten up by Clarisse because they were pissing her off. Nico with his mysteriousness and Mythomagic. I wonder if Rachel her braces. Yeah. 2 years of her whining about the pain of braces and not being able to eat apples and popcorn without having to clean it all out. Oh I'm glad I don't have to hear the whining, but I miss it. Percy is probably still scrawny and that mop of a head of hair he has. Does he even bother with combing it? It won't make a difference, but at least it won't be tangled. Urgh. I once put gum in his hair and I cut that bit of hair off just to annoy him. But he cut off a clump of my hair as payback. I had to get bangs to cover it up. I still don't know why I kept them. The bangs I mean. Anyways if puberty worked on him, he's probably taller than me now. Oh I miss bugging him about being shorter than me. Wow. Maybe I do want to go back to Goode...

I hear a thumping noise from the ceiling which is a sign that the twins are running around or jumping on a bed. My room is directly above the study...

"WHAT'S THIS?!" I hear one of them yell. Oh gods. I sprint out of the room knocking down a few books.

"IT LOOKS SO BORING!" the other one yells. I race upstairs as if my life depended on it. Once I'm done with those miscreants, they won't be able to move a finger without crying in pain.

"What happens if we take this piece of cloth out of the book?" one of them asks mischievously. I can literally hear the annoying Cheshire Cat identical smiles of theirs growing.

"YOU LITTLE!-" I shout as I run back to my room

Well that was the Prologue I guess, ehhhh. I've got like 4 more chapters written but I need to proofread them. urgh. Ah well. BUT SERIOUSLY I SHIPPED 'THE' COUPLE AND OH MY GODS YAASSSS.