Sophia sighed and let the curl fall from her useless fingertips. She studied the current look of sheer frustration that she had in the mirror: her light eyebrows were drawn together and her lips were in a line. She had been trying to do a nice but easy hairdo to do for the eighth grade dance she had to attend this evening. She had been trying to complete this disaster ever since four. The clock that rested on her vanity just flipped to six. She blamed her tenacity on her mother.

However, there was one aspect Sophia didn't understand: why she was going. Parties were never her thing, her forte. Instead of gossip and loud music, she would rather experience the serenity of silence, the feeling of crisp paper as she turned the page of a book, and the crinkle of the blanket she would have draped over her. All of those things soothed her, she didn't know if a dance would have the same effect.

She marinated this inclusive, rebellious thought of staying home a little longer. What if she could bargain getting out of this whole ordeal with her parents? What if she pretended to be sick? What if she hid? No, she scolded herself; two out of those three ideas are very juvenile. In fact, she even laughed, because she knew that Chase would resort to a couple of those ideas himself.

Chase, the daughter mentally mused. She also knew that her brother didn't enjoy dances either. So why was he going? When did he suddenly become interested in these social events? She had a feeling that he would rather be home, too, enjoying the beeps and bloops of his video games, his dominating grasp over the controller. She concluded that he was going probably because of the peer pressure of his childish friends. However, if there was one thing she was uncertain of, it was why he hung out with those monkeys.

Sophia jumped when she heard soft footsteps enter her bedroom. When she looked over her shoulder, her muscles relaxed. It was only her mother. Sophia remembered that ever since the day she saw her English teacher nearly turn into a snake-like creature, she has always been on her guard. Sophia knew that her parents have mentioned that they have experienced the same kind of problem with her, but she always prayed to the gods that it would never happen to her. Although she was strong mentally and physically, she's scared that she wouldn't know what to do. Until this night, she still hasn't told both of her parents.

Annabeth walked over to her daughter's bed and rested the laundry basket on it. She extracted her daughter's clothing from the pile that resided in the white basket. She began to fold them and place the articles next to the basket. Once Sophia saw this, she sighed and crossed over to the bed. One of the articles of clothing was a blouse that is her favorite. Her mother hadn't folded it the way she liked it, so she refolded it. Annabeth captured the scene from the side of her vision, she couldn't help but smile.

"I swear, Soph, you're becoming more like me every day." The daughter looked up once she heard words that were spoken. Sophia smiled as well and shrugged.

"I sure hope that's good, mother." She took her clothes from the bed and walked towards the drawer. She diligently placed them all in the according drawers. Once Sophia stood up, she saw that her mother's smile widened.

"If only Chase contained the miraculous power to put away his clothing," Annabeth said with a sigh and a shake of her head. "We would have found that stinky stock earlier." Sophia scrunched her nose at the memory.

"That was possibly the smelliest moment of my life," Sophia added as she walked back to her mother. Annabeth's smile melted into a warm laugh.

"I would agree with you, but I have smelled worse when I was your age." Sophia sighed. There she goes again, Sophia commented to herself, alluding to memories of her teenage years. Annabeth sighed once she was done with her flashback; she then glanced at her watch. Her eyes widened slightly.

"Soph, you've gotta get dressed. The dance starts in less than an hour." Sophia paused. Should she tell her mother that she's reconsidering going?

"Mother," She hesitantly started. She was cautious because she didn't want the words to spill over her lips in a wordy waterfall. "I was thinking that I wouldn't go." Immediately, Annabeth's eyebrows drew together and she sat down on the bed.

"Why the sudden change of mind?"

"I don't know," Sophia sighed, struggling for words this time. "I just feel like I wouldn't have a fun time, because I'm not popular, boys don't like me, and I'd rather read a book." Her heart fluttered with relief after she mentioned the truth: the book. Annabeth got a quizzical look on her face; Sophia could tell she was dissecting her daughter's words. Finally, Annabeth knew what to say. She rested her hands on her daughter's shoulders.

"I completely understand what you're saying, Sophia. In fact, your father and I never liked dances or social events either. But, that's usually because we brought trouble with us and also, we didn't find each other yet." She paused, collecting other words from her mind. "However, you're different: you don't have the worry of unintentionally bringing trouble to people. That's why you should go: that's why you should have fun. Be a teenager for once, Soph." Annabeth smiled at her daughter and a couple of seconds later, a smile fluttered onto Sophia's lips as well.

"Thanks, mother. That gives me a new perspective on things." Annabeth smiled and nodded.

"Glad I could help." Annabeth leaned forward and placed a kiss on her daughter's forehead. "Now put on your dress. Unfortunately, they won't allow jeans and a shirt." Sophia quietly chuckled and nodded. As Sophia headed for her closet and Annabeth headed for the door, a feminine, sing-songy voice stopped them both:

"I hate to interrupt your little heart-to-heart, darlings, but I have a lot of work to do with Sophia."