I wake up early, as usual. Despite the time I fall asleep, I'll always wake up at the same early time, without needing an alarm to wake me up.
Vague and distinct memories come back from last night... the others pulling me forcefully onto the dance floor, a little bit of drinking, but not to the point of drunkenness. The last time I got drunk was...well, never mind that.
I distinctly remember some girl crying in the bathroom and a slightly intoxicated Piper assuring her that it will be okay. Apparently, it's a typical thing that goes on in women's bathrooms, but I haven't much experience.
I lie in bed for a few more moments, and then I get out of bed. I make myself a cup of ginger cinnamon tea and I open my laptop. I received an email from Grover, letting me know that, as expected, the cigarette butts don't match any of the DNA on their records. He also asked how last night went, and I reply saying that it was fun and thanking him for the nights off.
I get up from my laptop and go to my window. In my living room, I have two large windows looking out to London. In my high up flat, I get a good view of lots of London, including the London Eye and the River Thames. I watch an early boat lazily cruise down the river, and go under the opened Tower Bridge.
My phone suddenly rings. Luke. I answer it and turn on the speaker. Putting the phone to your ear is kinda bad for you.(True fact, look it up)
"Hey, Luke! How's it going?" I ask
"Hey, Anna. It's great here, getting really nice and warm here. And how are you? Do anything fun lately?"
He always asks that question when we call. He, like Piper, encourages me to get out more and seems happy when I do. He obviously trusts me a lot, and the trust is mutual, and essential for long distance relationships.
"Yes, actually. Officer Grover has now given me a free night every two weeks, it was Piper's idea. Little did I know they were working behind my back to get me out. Anyway, I had my first one last night and Piper and Hazel dragged me to the club,"
"That's really great!" He says, "You really deserve some time out. Sometimes you have a tendency to get very caught up in your work and you forget to enjoy yourself,"
"I do enjoy myself. I find my work rather enjoyable,"
"Yes, but that's a different type of fun. You know, often, when I'm with my friends, we talk about how we met our current and previous partners,"
I smile. "What did you say?"
"Well after hearing stories of summer flings, fancy clubs and restaurants, I couldn't really rival them with our story,"
"What's wrong with the way we met?"
"I don't know, it's a little anticlimactic,"
I don't see anything anticlimactic about it, and it's quite a long story, a story for another time.
"Anyway, I invited some friends over and they've just arrived, talk to you soon?"
"Yes," I say, "Bye," I hang up.
I walk back from the window and go back to my laptop. I work for a couple hours, and then I get a message from Piper. "Last night was sooooo much fun! So hungover tho" and then a long list of heart and smiley face emoticons.
This is one thing I've never understood. Why do people get drunk if the next morning they'll just wake up feeling crappy? And also, alcoholism is terrible for your body and brain and has many long-term effects. Why do people do it?
I reply, not expressing my opinion on such matter, instead, telling her, truthfully, that I enjoyed last night. Suddenly, I receive another email from Grover, titled Girlfriend. A pretty weird title for an email. I quickly scan it, and then I shut down my computer.
I run upstairs, get ready quickly and then run out of the door, pausing only to grab my coat.
I run outside, and then start up my street at a brisk pace. The air is chilly this morning, and people are walking down the street all wrapped up, holding warm cups of coffee.
I turn left and I suddenly stop, startled. A man in a long, black, slightly shimmery cloak stands on the side of the street. Maybe floated would be a more appropriate word.
A shiver that has nothing to do with the cold air passes through my body. I look slightly closer at him without walking forward.
I can't make out his face, and he seems to be looking around at all the passers-by in the street.
My heart starts to pump. He looks a lot like- No. It can't be. Who is he? He reminds me a little of-
A man flicks a coin into a box by his feet. The man in the cloak nods at him. Suddenly, I realise. Lots of people go out onto the street dressed up and stand posed for something, and people can take pictures with them. I couldn't recognise his face as he's wearing a mask. My heart starts to slow and I release a breath I didn't know I was holding.
Even though the station is on the side I'm already on, I quickly cross the road to avoid him.
Being pretty childish, eh, Annabeth? He's just a man on the street. He's nobody A voice in the back of my head sneered. I ignore it.
I finally reach the police station and I open the door. The warm air comes as a relief, and my body seems to relax slightly. I enter Grover's office, but he's not there. Frowning a little, I go to the secretary, who's typing furiously at her computer.
"Can I help you?" She asks me, looking up at me through her bejewelled spectacles.
"I'm here to see Gro- Officer Grover. He sent me an email telling me to come as soon as I can,"
"Ah yes, officer Grover is in Meeting room C, two floors up, the fourth corridor on the right and it's the third room on the left. You can't miss it,"
"Thank you," I say, and I start up the stairs.
A few weirdly decorated staircases and corridors later, I reach Meeting room C. I open the door and find Grover and a woman sitting at a table in a small room. Not much of a meeting room. The girl sitting opposite Grover is about his height, has long, black hair and eyes and looks a little sad. In a few seconds, I realise that she's the girlfriend of the man who was shot a couple days ago. Normal for her to look sad, I suppose. Maybe she even-
"Ah, Annabeth, please come in. Sit next to me, here," says Grover, interrupting my train of thought. He pulls up a chair next to him and I sit in it, not taking my eyes off her.
"So Annabeth, this is Miss Avila RamÃrez-Arellano, and she's here-"
"Please, call me Reyna," she says.
"Alright, Reyna here, as you maybe already guessed, is the girlfriend of Jason Grace." I heard her breathe in sharply when she heard his name.
"She came here and said she would tell us what happened," finishes Grover.
"Yes," she says. "I remember the night very clearly
as if it just happened," she says.
I pull out a notepad and pen. "Do you mind?" I ask her, indicating them.
"Not at all," she says. "Anyway, allow me to begin. It was the night of our two year anniversary..."
Authors Note: Ooh, cliffhanger. I would continue, but it's been a while since I've updated this story, so I decided to end here.
Chocolate, sprinkles, death and destrucion,
Leila