Summary: Annabeth's point of view during scenes in The Sea of Monsters by Rick Riordan. This chapter happens during pages 67-68. Percy's angry and unhappy with his father for claiming Tyson, so Annabeth is cheering him up by designing a chariot with him.

Disclaimer: Percy and the Olympians belongs to Rick Riordan, Copyright 2006.

Define a Monster

In the morning, Percy and I were sitting by the canoe lake (his favorite place, I swear) sketching chariot designs when some jokers from Aphrodite's cabin walked by. They were primping and fluffing their hair, strutting about as if they were about to do something daring.

They congenially asked Percy if he needed to borrow some eyeliner for his eye… "Oh sorry, eyes."

As they walked away laughing, I could tell Percy was about to explode. He was staring after the jokesters with a murderous look in his eyes that I didn't particularly like.

They were jerks, but there was no point in getting worked up about something that'd never change.

"Just ignore them, Percy," I grumbled. "It isn't your fault that you have a monster for a brother."

"He's not my brother!" Percy snapped, obviously worked up. "And he's not a monster, either!"

Not a monster? My eyebrows shot up. "Hey, don't get mad at me! And technically, he is a monster," I retorted defensively. He looked like an angry hog on a rampage. Not unlike Clarisse.

"Well, you gave him permission to enter the camp."

Percy'd hit a sore spot, for me. I'd endangered my home for him. Didn't he realize that?

"Because it was the only way to save your life!" I suddenly understood that his problem was more the fact that Tyson was his brother than Tyson being allowed around camp. "I mean… I'm sorry, Percy, I didn't expect Poseidon to claim him. Cyclopes are the most deceitful, treacherous–"

"He is not! What have you got against Cyclopes, anyway?"

They tried to eat me and my friends. They messed with my memories of my dad. They turned Thalia into a tree. They took away my best… My best…

But she wasn't my best friend anymore. I didn't dare look at Percy.

"Just forget it," I said. "Now, the axle for this chariot–"

"You're treating him like he's this horrible thing," my friend continued unhappily. "He saved my life."

And one of his brothers stole Thalia's life.

I threw down my pencil and stood. I had tried to be patient, really tried. "Then maybe you should design a chariot with him," I huffed angrily.

"Maybe I should!"

"Fine!" I shouted.

"Fine!" he yelled back.

I stomped off, and even the knowledge that our fight had been his fault didn't give me any reprieve from the irrational unhappiness I felt for the rest of the day.

Boys are idiots.

415 words…

This ended up being shorter than I thought it would be. Thanks to my reviewers!