Hey there fellow readers/writers! This is the start of a longer story that I'm really excited about doing. This is the first time I've been legit excited since doing Forever. I really think it's decent..at least I hope so. The title has nothing to do with the song by Secondhand Serendade, but I liked it for a title, so here we are.

I would LOVE it if you would review! I love reviews, they make my day. If you have any suggestions either or requests, just leave me them in a review.

I didn't proofread this...I probably should've...

I do not own PJO or anything accompanied with it...otherwise I'd be freaking rich and writing my real novels, not just fanfic. Don't get me wrong, I love fanfic, it's just... I yearn to write my first novel.

I really hope you like it!

~ Mooon River and Me

Annabeth POV

"There's only one way, to say, three words, for you. I lo-" my alarm clock rang out until my hand found the snooze button. Huh. Real shame, I liked that song. Oh well. I'm getting up way earlier than normal, so not even one song that I sort of semi like will make this better. It's 5:30 am and I'm getting up. On a Saturday. I put my pillow over my face and groan. Five minutes later, my alarm goes off again, just in case I didn't get up. This time I turn it off for good.

I pull the pillow off my face and sit up. I take my bearings in, even though I know exactly where I am. On my right is my desk, piled up with papers upon papers of school work, architecture, writing, you name it. I even think I see a break up note from my ex. I wonder why that of all things is still lingering around in my room. To my left is my closet full of lots of clothes. I look down and see my adorable little black pug, Elphaba. Yes, the Elphaba from Wicked. What can I say, I enjoy good theater.

I swing my legs over the side of my bed and stand up. I walk over to my dresser in the corner and pull out a bra and some underwear. Then I proceed to pad over to the bathroom. I've already closed the door and turned on the heat when I remember the most important thing. Music. Oops! I quickly grab my iPod and iHome and blast out some of my favorites.

Half an hour later, I emerge from the shower into the humid mist that surrounds my body and fogs up my mirror. I wrap myself if a white, fluffy towel and do the same to my hair. Singing along to my music I go back into my room, dragging my tunes with me. I hope mom and dad aren't awake. They knew I had to get up super early this morning.

I walked in and turned on the lights. Elphaba whined and covered her eyes with her paw. I smiled and then proceeded to blow dry my hair. As its natural curls popped out, I smiled to myself. This would be a good hair day. Always helpful when going to an interview.

Oh yeah, did I forget to mention that? So, it's always been my dream to go to this super amazing school. Maybe you've heard of it? Stanford. Yeah, it's kind of my dream. The problem? Well it's real hard to get into. Like, really competitive. But, it's been my dream for so long, I don't know if even a letter saying I didn't get accepted would stop me.

This interview is totally important, as you know, so I brought out the few make up items I own. I dabbed on a little mascara and put on a touch of lip gloss. I then went over to my closet and brought out my black flippy skirt. I don't really know how to describe it, other than the flippy skirt. I've called it that for the longest time. I then grabbed a blue blouse and a black jacket to put over it. On one side of my hair, I pinned back a few curls and put in some earrings. I looked pretty darn professional if I do say so myself.

By the time I'm ready to go, it's 6:30. The interview is at nine, so I'll have plenty of time to go get breakfast before I begin the hour and a half drive into the city: just as planned.

I walked into Starbucks just as it turned seven. I ordered a blueberry muffin and a mocha latte, handed the cashier a few bills, and walked to wait for my coffee. The bell over the door rang and I looked up to see a guy about my age walk in, shaking snowflakes out of his hair. It was March, but we were having some late snow. He had sea green eyes that were framed in perfect black lashes. His obsidian hair hung slightly above his eyes. He had lips so perfect, they would've made Aphrodite jealous. He was dressed in nice black dress pants and some shiny black shoes. He wore a plain white shirt with a black tie and a black jacket covering it. Despite the fact that his face seemed to fit the age of around 18, he looked like a business tycoon.

"Last call for a mocha latte!" the Starbucks employee called out, getting flustered. I quickly hopped up and averted my eyes from the mysterious stranger. I mumbled an apology and walked back to my table with my coffee and muffin and started to read my book. I was reading To Kill a Mockingbird for the seventeenth time. I was addicted. I was lost in the book when I heard someone clear their throat. I looked up to see the mysterious boy smiling down at me holding a cup of coffee.

"May I sit here? Everywhere else is full," he said charmingly.

"Um…sure why not," I say putting down my book, carefully marking my page.

"Oh! I didn't mean to make you stop reading. To Kill a Mockingbird. I've read it three times myself. How many times have you read it?" he asks.

"Um…maybe three or four," I say not wanting to sound like a complete idiot. I mean, who reads a book seventeen times?

"So, what's your name?" he asks.

"Annabeth," I reply with a smile. "And you?"

"I'm Percy," Percy says. He seems pretty decent. I was about to ask where he was going so early in the morning, when he got a text. He looked at it and his face got all scrunched up, like he was angry. It was kind of cute.

"Damn. That's my dad. I've got to go home. Well, it was nice meeting you…Annabeth," he says, putting a space between my name and the rest of his sentence. When he says my name, a smile creeps on his face, and I blush for some unknown reason.

"Yeah, nice meeting you too," I say as he heads out the door into the cold. I watch him as he climbs into a beat up Prius. He sees me still watching him and smirks. He raises his hand in a farewell and I mimic the action.

I look at my watch after he's pulled out of the parking lot. It's seven fifteen; I should probably get a move on. I hop into my yellow Mini Cooper and head off. Right as I'm exiting onto the interstate, a yellow Mustang pulls up behind me. Cute car: I've always wanted one. My admiration stops there. This guy, whoever he is, is riding my tail the entire way. If there's one thing I can't stand it's people who do that. I decide to make his life hell, so I go slower, but I keep up with the car in front of me so he can't go around. If he switches lanes, so do I.

As I get off at my desired exit, so does this punk. Well, I'm still going to give him hell. I continue a slow descent into the city, with him honking, swerving, and riding my tail all the way to the office where I'll be meeting for my interview. Man, if cars could have fits, this one was having a mother of one. As I turned into the parking lot, so did this guy. Weird. I hope I didn't just piss off one of my interviewers. As I step out of my car, so does he. There's something about the strut and the black hair that looks too familiar. As he turns around, my mouth falls open.

This punk was Percy.