Frederick and Helen had at first been unwilling for Annabeth to attend Goode. The daughter of Athena had thrown out her suggestion and a silence had immediately ensued. Of course, Annabeth understood their doubt. It would be complicated, the change. One that should provide much deliberation and thought, rather than a 'spur of the moment' decision. Percy would be there, but could that influence her grades, couldn't it? Would she get distracted easily and 'carouse around with her delinquent of a boyfriend' too much, as Dan has so graciously put it. Mr Chase appeared conflicted between such reasons and his daughter's happiness. Eventually, he waved a hand at Annabeth, gesturing for her to leave whilst he and Helen discussed the matter. Annabeth was tempted to pout and stay to deliberate with them, but she decided that could push her luck.

Annabeth sashayed out of the room, her eyes twinkling. She was more than half tempted to go and tell Percy now, but nothing was definite yet, and she didn't want to get either of their hopes up. Of course, she would have to leave her current school, which was no problem. The only irksome matter would be her peer's questions.

"Oy, where ya going Math head?" People would most likely say.

"None of your business Meth head,"
Whereupon her oppressor would most likely gasp, and she would roll her eyes. Weak insults. Though she may tell them about going to school with Percy to get them of her back, and they would reply with a crass comment or some innuendo. Or simply a taunting, "How romantic."
Annabeth snorted, depicting these scenarios in her mind, and grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl.

Knocking lightly on the door of her brother's room, Annabeth weighed the probability of her going to Goode in her mind. Her dad would most likely vouch for her. Helen though, was another case. Since her previous outburst, Helen seemed to have smiled at her more in two hours than in Annabeth's entire life, but still, Annabeth wasn't certain how much support she would provide for her stepdaughter's decision.

"Yeah?" Came a voice from behind the oak door.

"It's Annabeth."

"Good. Can you help us with this Lego thing please?"

"Sure."

Annabeth pushed open the door and padded into the bedroom. To say it was a mess would have been an understatement. Annabeth's room was a mess. This was more of a bombsite. The sheets on the beds were pulled back, the duvets half falling off their respective beds. The closet doors were thrown open, revealing a clutter of clothes strewn in a colourful disarray of shirts and trousers and jumpers and shoes and shorts and underwear so that Annabeth could not differentiate one article of clothing from the other. The desk wasn't recognizable beneath the clutter it played host to and the rug on the floor was thrown back against the wall, revealing a shedload of accumulated dust and dirty laundry. Annabeth wrinkled her nose as she walked in and made her way towards Bobby and Matthew, cautious not to step on any discarded pieces of Lego.

Her brother's were midway through constructing a - or rather trying to construct- a boat. Annabeth could help with that no problem. She recalled those long bitter months during Percy's disappearance, when one of the only things Annabeth had had the energy to do, other than mooch around camp looking miserable, was to take a stroll through the deadly woods to bunker nine, where Leo awaited her with open arms. They would spend the rest of the day there, Leo furiously building and Annabeth going over the notes, making improvements and coming up with new and improved designs, as well as pointing out little mistakes in the framework every now and then. And so she gladly accepted to help her brothers, tamping down the flood of bad memories that threatened to build up and burst the dams of her mind. It was alright. Percy was here. The war was over. Leo. No, she wouldn't think of Leo.

"You seem happier, Annabeth," Matthew noted, looking over at his sister who was absorbed in fixing up a stable bow, which was no easy feat in Lego.
"Mhm?" She grunted, looking up momentarily. "I am?"

Matthew nodded. "A few hours ago you were screaming and crying."

Annabeth shot him a rueful glance as she put the last piece into place. "Well Matthew, it so happens that earlier I was recounting to your mom about my summer and pretty much my entire life. And let me tell you, you would cry as well if you were in my place."

"I know, I heard your story."
A silence settled over the trio. A deadly, poisoned one like a plague. Annabeth blinked back the tears in her eyes furiously, adamantly refusing to cry. Bobby however, was the most empathetic kid Annabeth had ever met, though annoying. He shot his sister and sidelong look and, at seeing her obvious distress, promptly walked around their model and wrapped his arms around her. Annabeth smiled a little a hugged him back.
"So," He began, "Why were you so happy?"
Annabeth gave a large shrug, but a small sparkle returned to her grey eyes. "Might move school. Go to Goode with Percy."

Bobby elbowed Matthew who was trying not to giggle and would soon be subjected to Annabeth's deluxe killer death stare.

"That's great," He told his sister. "Will that help?"

"I hope so," She said. "You know Bobby, I much prefer this version of you. Why don't you stay so nice and helpful, rather than being such an annoying little idiot?"

Bobby bowed. "It's the little brother's job ma'am."

Annabeth lobbed a pillow at him.

It was dinner by the time Annabeth, Bobby and Matthew finally completed the vessel. With the budding architect's help, the boat had gone from being a mediocre little ship with only the framework and the mast, to a fairly large barque, with several different levels, a mess hall, a figure head, ballista, cabins, engine room and even little skiffs.

The children descended the stairs, Bobby and Matthew running for the pasta that awaited them, Annabeth lagging behind somewhat. Truly, she was anxious she would not be able to go to Goode, and that despite telling herself not to get her hopes up, to be now told she could not attend school with Percy would force her into a further state of misery. Nevermind, she would dwell on that later.

Annabeth ambled into the kitchen, her stomach growling, surveying the scene before her. Helen was at the kitchenette, dealing out bowls of spaghetti bolognese, Bobby was reading a discarded magazine on architecture (Dam, that was one of Annabeth's. She made a mental note to retrieve it), Matthew was doodling on the edge of an envelope and her dad was reading a letter no doubt from work. No one seemed inclined to lay the table, so Annabeth strolled over the the draws and began to fish out crockery. She laid them out on the table and came back for glasses and cutlery. Helen began to laugh.

"These men don't do anything!" She told her stepdaughter, "I think next time we woman should take a break and leave them to lay the table and cook."

Annabeth chuckled "I'm not sure if they can differentiate a fork from a spoon."

"Good point."

"Oy!" Protested Frederick, "I make excellent casserole. And I help everyday to lay the table."

Helen snorted. "Only if it concerns pizza."

She and her stepdaughter began to crack up.

Admittedly, Helen's food was amazing. She made simple spag bol taste Michelin Star. The chit-chat was kept to a minimum, as each person concentrated solely on how much food they could devour without choking. Eventually though, Mr Chase opened his mouth.

"Annabeth?"
His daughter glanced up from shovelling food, and raised her eyebrows in a question. Frederick cleared his throat and looked warily at his wife, making Annabeth's stomach clenched as if the tightest belt had been tied around it. In the corner of her eye, she saw her brothers look up, curiosity branded on their faces.

"So... About Goode." Frederick began. He appeared to be searching in his mind for the right words to say, grasping with his hands inside his brain. It seemed as if the clock had slowed down. Each and every moment seemed to be slower, her dad drumming his hands on the table, Helen glancing down into her mug, Bobby taking a large bite of his food, Matthew turning a page in her magazine. Even the trees rustling outside, the bird taking flight outside. For one terrifying moment, Annabeth thought it was Kronos and her insides froze over. Kronos. The helicopter and the poisoned knife. Sleeping Manhattan and Sally and Paul and gods, Luke, Percy about to become a god. That was to name a few.

"So. can I go?" Annabeth said, a little harsher than she meant to. Time suddenly sped up, back to normal. The page in her magazine rustled as Matthew turned it. Helen stirred her coffee thoughtfully, Bobby gagged on the large amount of food in his mouth. Frederick sighed.

"Yes. But on the condition that Percy doesn't distract you too much."
Annabeth decided not to ask what he meant by distract. Bobby and Matthew elbowed each other and began to giggle. So much for Bobby being kind and helpful. Still, Annabeth's face broke into a beam that spread around her face like water which cannot be controlled. Like love. Her countenance was twisted into happiness and passion. She jumped up and hugged her father and stepmother tightly.

"Oh gods. Gods, gods. Di Immortales thank you so much. When do I start?"

"Next week."

She began to talk rapidly, proclaiming her thanks and gratitude as her family stared at her blankly.

"What?" She demanded, suddenly brought back to earth.

"Honey," Her father said, "You were talking in ancient Greek."

"I was?"

"Yeah."

Annabeth bust out laughing. Laughing so hard it was almost delirious. It was something she sometimes did. When she began to fly and leave the ground and her mind was processing things too fast that she would lapse into Greek. And she laughed and laughed as her family shared alarmed looks, and finally one of her brothers got up and prodded her sharply and she stopped to smile wildly. Bobby turned to their parents.

"Guys. I don't think she's alright. Perhaps she needs help."

His sister stamped on his foot, and he grimaced in pain. "On second thoughts, she's fine."