Disclaimer: I don't own PJO

As Annabeth has predicted, Mr Montford had disappeared, and made it as though he had never walked the face of the earth, let alone be principal to over two thousand pupils. Replacing said monster, was a jolly old man of the name 'Mr Alfonso'. He was a short, Hispanic guy with a bushy moustache and a thinning cap of grey hair, and to the rest of the students and teachers alike, it seemed that he had been there since the beginning of the school year. Of course, courtesy of the Mist, they never remembered his predecessor, a strict Mr Montford.

Annabeth sat side by side with Percy, of whom was toasting marshmallows on a long stick. It was half an hour after their unfortunate encounter with that sea monster, and thanks to a quick shower, a towel and the merry, crackling campfire, they were both clean and dry. Annabeth felt more shaken than she would have liked to admit. This was not because of the monster she had faced (after Tartarus and the war, it took more than that to render her so shaken), but rather the fact of fighting a monster. Rather the bitter taste of anger. Anger that she could not even go on a school residential trip without having to fight monsters, that she would never lead the normal life of which she had dreamed about for so, so long.

Annabeth sighed, and slid her arm around Percy's shoulders, who smiled at her, and pressed a kiss to her cheek. He offered Annabeth a gooey marshmallow from his stick, which, after many years of practice from camp, was toasted to perfection. Grinning despite the dark mood she had succumbed to, she plucked one off his stick (or tried to, because i'm sure if you've ever tried to do so, you will have found it quite impossible), and popped it into her mouth. She found comfort in the way that the sweet tasted in her mouth, in the way Percy held her, in the way that in the dancing flames, she could've sworn that she saw Hestia, goddess of the hearth smiling up at her. The feeling of deja vu was overpowering and all too soon, a warm sensation, one that came from the familiarity of her surroundings, filled her inside, and she allowed herself to enjoy.

Annabeth roped her fingers in Percy's. They were walking towards the main building, a comfortable silence wrapping around them like fog. The couple walked aside from their cohorts, and expressed no desire to be near such wild animals. The copses of trees on either side of the path they followed leered over them. They seemed overbearing, powerful and important, but yet the trees seemed to guide them towards the illuminated complex in the distance.

Percy halted before they reached the automatic doors, and smiled at her. Annabeth frowned at him, confused. Then, with little warning, he leant in and pressed his lips to her. Not caring about their immediate vicinity, or what those in sundry might say upon seeing them, she leant in and requited the kiss. For a moment, the world fell away, leaving just her and Percy. Her troubles faded until she did not care anymore and the past, present and future was forgotten. Annabeth felt elated, as if she were flying, or dancing or spinning; possibly all three. In that instant, she understood why people said:

'Your love is my drug'
Because just then, she thought this was what is must be like to feel high. Like wings has sprouted on her back: as if Daedalus had made her her own set of wings. Addictive, but giving you the will to carry on. She could stay like this forever, closing the space between them and letting her problems melt like paraffin, with euphoria filling every pore in her body.
But of course, like Icarus, she eventually flew to near to the sun, and they had break apart, both grinning like madmen. Both acutely aware that, from the windows above, their display had had an audience.
After a minute of heavy silence, Annabeth grimaced and wiped her mouth.
"Ew Seaweed Brain, you had marshmallow all around your mouth."

"I saw you, you know?"

Annabeth started, and looked up from the paper in her hand, where she was busy designing a new temple for Olympus.
"You saw me when? Sorry, what?"
Shan sighed impatiently, as if Annabeth were a very small, very dense child who could not quite grasp the concept of words.
"I saw you with your boyfriend."
"Ah, okay... When?"
"Just now. Making out."
Annabeth merely shrugged. She could sense the onslaught of insults about to come her way, and though she was tempted to call Shan a 'Jealous, good-for-nothing voyeur,' she choked back the remark. Annabeth was determined to avoid any more conflict after this morning. After punching Gretel, Annabeth had been put on probation, named a delinquent and been punished by having to wash up after every meal this week. In all honesty, Annabeth found this sentence rather light, especially considering that the attack was - she admitted - slightly unprovoked. But according to Mr Baker, it looked worse than it was. Besides, she was tired.

Shan looked surprised at Annabeth's reaction - or rather lack of a reaction - so apparently deemed it appropriate to pry. Also, apparently didn't deem her plastic nose very valuable, seeing as she was toeing the line. And the line was very fine.

"So, Wise girl, what are you drawing?"
Annabeth's head snapped up quicker than Arion. She glowered at her oppressor, who smiled a sickly sweet smile and said "Uh-oh, touched a nerve?"
A muscle feathered in Annabeth's cheek.
"Don't call me that."
"Why? That right reserved only for your boyfriend?" Shan said tauntingly.
She was right, the right to use such nickname was reserved solely for Percy. But she wasn't going to tell that to these bitches. Instead, she rolled her eyes, shuffled up in her bed, and pointedly drew up her sketchbook: a blatant sign.
No
Annabeth had decided to ignore them: not in the way that you would be told by your parents, in the way that only causes more taunting comments, but in a regal way, that implies something like,
'You irksome peasants are beneath me, I shan't talk to you because you are a waste of space.'
Or some other thing along those lines.

Shan obviously was either really very obtuse, or just very annoying - Most likely the latter - because grabbed Annabeth's sketchbook out of her hands, incidentally jogging such girl. She flipped to the beginning of the book, no easy feat considering the amount of pages stuffed into it and the general mess that comes with passion, and read aloud "Annabeth Chase, Designs for Olympus, if found, please return to me, Cabin Six, Camp half-blood." Shan looked up at Annabeth and looked up with a sneer, "Camp Half-Blood? Cabin Six?"

She continued to leaf through the pages, jeering at the daughter of Athena and dancing out of Annabeth's teach whenever she lunged for her book.

"Give it back Shan, that's important!"
"Important!?" Shrieked Shan, "This little piece of crap is important!? Honey, don't delude yourself!"
Annabeth was fairly sure she was steaming at the ears, her face flushed red, her movements were clumsy, the anger she harboured had consumed her, making it hard to walk. This was her life's work, if she lost it...
She pounced on Shan, but the girl gracefully sidestepped her. Their roommates watched in fascination.
"Give it back!"
"Nuh-uh darling."
Annabeth watched in dismay, as Shan stuck her hand out of the window. She watched in dismay as Shan let go of the notebook. She watched in dismay as it fell into the river below them, and was carried far away.
Then rage became her puppeteer.