Disclaimer: All PJO characters belong to Rick Riordan.

Chapter Sixteen

Percy

The best things in life are unseen. That's why we close our eyes when we kiss, cry, and dream.

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Grover takes a large sip of his coffee. "I don't know, Perce," he says critically. "It seems a little small."

"You think?" I practically gasp in reply. "I c-can't breathe!"

He sighs. "I do like that style, though. I think Annabeth will too."

I turn and look in the mirror in the Macy's fitting area. "I look like an 1800s gentleman."

"And that's a problem because...?"

I sigh, which isn't easy since the tux I'm wearing is three sizes too small. "Let me repeat that for you. I look like an 1800s gentleman. I'm not going to prom looking like Mr. Darcy."

I turn and walk back to the fitting room to change into the next tux. I hear Grover outside grumbling to himself about how I am so picky and that he personally liked that tux. I scowl in the mirror in the fitting room. This is one part of prom I do not enjoy. Shopping for a nice and affordable tux is like shopping for a nice and affordable phone. You can't have both.

I wish Annabeth was here. It would be so much easier if she just chose one for me. But when I asked her to come along to help, she just smiled and informed me that she couldn't see me in my tux until the night of prom.

When I walk out to show Grover the next one, his whole face turns red and he begins to guffaw. I glare at him.

"I know it's big," I defend, "but surely it's not that big."

"Perce, it's, like, three sizes to big," he says once he calms down. "It looks like the suit swallowed you!"

I groan and stalk back inside the dressing room. He's right, I think as I look in the mirror. The tux is three sizes too big. But I like the style. I change back into my clothes quickly so I can go grab another size.

Just as I'm about to open the door, my phone rings. I pull it out of my pocket and look at the screen. Annabeth. Smiling, I accept the call. "Hey."

"Percy, you've got to get over here. Now." She sounds breathless. And nervous, if not scared. My stomach drops and I feel my face take on a concerned expression.

"Annabeth, what's wrong?" I demand. "Are you alright?"

She doesn't say anything. All I hear on the other end of the line is her heavy breaths. Then, finally, she says, "No, no. Nothing's wrong. I'm fine." She pauses again. "Just...just hurry up and get over here. Please." Then she hangs up.

Stomach turning, I burst out of the fitting room and tell Grover I've got to go. Then I run to my car and rush to Annabeth's apartment.

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When I knock, I'm expecting the worst. Maybe her mom had a stroke and Annabeth doesn't know what to do. (Although that doesn't seem logical, since Annabeth is always prepared.) Or maybe her mom isn't home and she hurt her leg or something. Though if that were the case, why would she call me? I'd be just as clueless as her.

I'm actually considering a scenario where ninjas attacked the apartment and ransacked it when Annabeth opens the door. Immediately, without a word, she grabs my hand and pulls me inside.

I've only ever been to Annabeth's apartment once. And that was before we started dating. Everything is exactly how I remember it. The shelves in the kitchen are perfectly organized, as are the bookshelves on either side of the TV. There are no dirty dishes in the sink, although the drops of water still remaining in it hints that it wasn't long ago that they washed the dishes. The blankets are neatly folded and draped across the arm of the couch. The blinds are open, letting in streams of sunlight. It's so different from my apartment, where everything's a mess, that it feels like I'm in a different universe.

Annabeth doesn't look as put together as the apartment does, though. She's in a pair of black Nike shorts and a gray shirt with Mickey Mouse on it (which I assume is from Disney World) that looks three sizes too big. Her curly hair is up in a messy ponytail and she doesn't appear to be wearing any make-up. She's biting her lip and, for the first time ever, her ADHD seems to be showing. Her hands alternate between tapping nervously on her leg and fiddling anxiously with her shirt. From time to time, she tucks a stray curl behind her ear. She paces back and forth in front of me with a panicked expression.

"Is your mom home?" I ask suddenly. Part of me hopes that she isn't. Annabeth's mom gives me the creeps, with her rigid posture and piercing eyes. I get the strangest feeling that she doesn't like me much either.

Annabeth momentarily stops pacing and looks at me with a confused expression. "What?" she asks, then says distractedly, "Oh. No, she's not."

Then she goes back to pacing.

"Um," I start, standing awkwardly by the door, "why did you call me over? What's wrong? You sounded really scared on the phone."

Annabeth bites her lip again, and looks at me with wide eyes. Finally, she says, "Come on," and grabs my hand again, dragging me to her bedroom.

Her room is as neat as the rest of the house with the exception of her desk. It always seems to be covered in papers, whether they're blueprints or school papers or college applications. Annabeth leads me to it now and gestures to a paper on the top. An envelope.

I look at the piece of mail, ignoring Annabeth's name on it, printed neatly. I look directly at the return address and suddenly realize why Annabeth seems so anxious. The letter is from Harvard.

"Wow," I say, looking at her. "Have you opened it yet?"

She shakes her head. "No. I got it this morning, but my mom's gone this weekend for some convention and I didn't want to open it with her gone."

"So then why did you call me?"

Annabeth crosses her arms and then uncrosses them. Her whole being radiates nervous energy. "I can't wait any longer. And I wanted you to be here when I opened it."

I grin and slide an arm around her shoulders. "Well, then," I prompt, "open it."

She looks pale as she reaches for the envelope. I tighten my arm around her for support, partially nervous myself. Then Annabeth pulls her hand away, scowling at the letter.

"I can't do it," she says. "I can't open it."

She pulls away from me and sits on the bed, glaring in the direction of her desk. I sigh and go to sit next to her. "It's just a letter, Annabeth," I point out.

"What if I don't get in?" she asks. "What if I just made the waiting list? I could have done more extracurricular activities, now that I think of it. And I definitely could have raised my grade in Chemistry and-"

"Annabeth."

"-calculus, and probably English, too-"

"Annabeth."

"-and what if they don't like my essay that I wrote? What if I spelled some words wrong? What if it was stupid?"

"Annabeth," I repeat for the third time and pull her in for a hug. Her whole body is tense but eventually relaxes against mine. She buries her face in my shirt.

"What if they don't want me, Percy?" she asks. Her words are muffled, but I still am able to make out the nervous trembling in her words. "What if I'm not what they're looking for?"

"Well, then, I guess we'll have to look at some other colleges," I reply. "But you're not going to have to worry about that. Because Harvard is going to accept you. I don't have even an ounce of doubt about that."

"You don't know that," she murmurs.

I smirk. "Yeah. I kinda do."

She shivers against me.

"Look, Wise Girl," I say. "Look at that letter. Do you know what's inside of it? Not just an acceptance letter. Inside there is proof that you're at the smartest, most talented, best student out there. Don't tell me that you could have done more. You did more than me, that's for sure. And I read your essay, and I don't think that there's a better one out there. I really don't. Stop selling yourself short, Annabeth. Your the perfect model student. They'd have to be on drugs not to accept you. So what are you worrying about?"

Annabeth stares at the letter with a doubtful look on her face. Finally, she sighs and pulls away from me, moving towards the letter on her desk. "I really hope you're right," she says.

I sit on her bed and grin at her. "When am I not?"

She looks back at me and rolls her eyes, a small smile playing on her lips. It looks like her confidence has been restored when she grabs the letter and begins to tear it open.

She fumbles with the letter once she gets it out of the envelope, cursing when she gets a paper cut. I laugh, but my laughter immediately dies down when her face falls. Her jaw sets in anger and she throws the paper back down on the desk.

"You didn't get in?" I ask, making room as she throws herself onto the bed.

She doesn't answer. Instead, she peels back the covers and crawls underneath them. Her form looks so small next to the pillows surrounding her. She pulls the blanket up over her head until she's disappeared into the mass of her bed.

I sigh. "Annabeth, come out."

She doesn't answer.

"I'm assuming you didn't get in?"

Still no answer.

I sigh again. "Fine." I take off my shoes and throw them on the ground, then climb underneath the covers next to her.

"It's dark," I say once I've pulled the blankets back over us. "How can you see under here?"

"I'm on the waiting list," she reveals. Her voice is surprisingly clear, even if it is defeated. At least she hasn't been crying. "I'm on the freaking waiting list, which means I probably won't even get into the freaking school."

I'm silent as I scour my mind, trying to think of something to say that would make her feel better. "Well, that's better than not getting in at all, right? If someone drops out, you get to take their place."

Annabeth gave a short, bitter laugh. "Let's be honest, Perce. Who would drop out of Harvard?"

"Oh, Wise Girl," I say and pull her close, because what else is there to do? I wrap an arm around her tiny waist and bury my other hand in her hair, drawing her head to me. She nestles her face in my neck, her breath warm against my collarbone. It comes out in short, rapid intervals, like she's trying not to cry. I kiss the top of her head.

"It'll be okay," I comfort. "There are other colleges, right?"

"Yeah," she replies. "Sure."

Her voice sounds so small, and her body is shaking against mine, and all I want is to make her feel better, but I don't know how. Then I'm kissing her, right underneath the blankets of her bed. She kisses back passionately, like she's trying to erase the memory of her lack of acceptance into Harvard. Our legs get tangled together and suddenly, she's laughing.

"What?" I ask. My hand is still knotted in her hair. "I didn't do anything embarrassing, right?"

She shakes her head and takes deep breaths to calm herself down. "No, no," she assures me. "I'm not laughing at you." Her face scrunches up in confusion. "Actually, I'm not sure why I'm laughing. I'm just in a weird mood."

"Well, then, Annabeth," I say, "since you're in a weird mood, let's do something. I'm bored."

She gives me a look. "Really? Kissing me under the covers is boring?"

"No," I try to correct, "no, I didn't mean like that! I just, um..."

She laughs and pecks me on the lips. "It's fine, Seaweed Brain." She thinks for a moment. "If you want to do something, then let's work on our project. It's due next Monday."

I scrunch up my nose in disgust. "The one over Aphrodite? Um, that's not exactly what I had in mind."

"Well, it's what I have in mind," she argues. At my pout, she laughs and says, "Tell you what. You can drive to the nearest McDonald's or something and grab us some food while I find my notes. Then after we work, we can do whatever you want."

I grin. "Deal." Kissing her one last time, I climb out of the bed and put on my shoes. As I'm walking out the door, I turn back with a mischievous grin on my face and say, "Oh, and Annabeth?" She fixes me with an expectant look. "Don't feel bad. Harvard is stupid."

Sorry this chapter was rushed. I felt super bad about not updating in, like, eighteen years, so I hurried and wrote this chapter. I kinda liked it. I thought it'd be super cute if Annabeth didn't get accepted into college and Percy was there to comfort her. Good news, though! This was the last filler chapter! Yeah! Next chapter, the plot will pick up.

Okay, so there's only, like, five or six more chapters left of this story. Can you guys help me get up to 300 reviews?

"Teach me to do Your will, for You are my God. May Your gracious Spirit lead me forward on a firm footing." Psalm 143:10