A/N: I'd like to thank my betas: AlEmily360, SapphireTrafficker, tigerlilycorinne, AshenMoon42, Lesbian101, Shiuanc2, and LadyHW.

Annabeth pulled back her hair in the mirror and attempted a defiant look, though it came off as more wobbly and unsure. She let her hair fall into her face once more.

"Are you sure you don't need me to come?" Piper asked from Silena's chair. Annabeth wasn't sure if Silena would like anyone in her chair while she was gone, but it felt nice to have another person in the room again.

"On my date?" Annabeth asked, sorting through the scarves in her closet.

"I could wear a disguise and sit several tables away," Piper said, spinning herself around. "He'd never even know."

Annabeth snorted at the image. She was glad that Piper was treating this lightly—it made what she was about to do much less daunting. "I think this is something I need to do by myself."

Piper caught herself mid-spin, stilling. "I know," she said. "But if you need me, just text, and I'll come running."

Annabeth nodded. She was grateful for the reassurance. She wasn't sure how Luke would react when she finally ended it. He was probably expecting a sweet and doting girlfriend, happy to see him after his trip. Instead, she was dumping him.

"Remember, he is an asshole," Piper said.

Annabeth scoffed. "I know that."

Piper adjusted the scarf around Annabeth's neck. "You should have let me do your makeup."

"You're terrible at it though," Annabeth protested, letting Piper make her last-minute adjustments.

Piper grinned. "That's kind of the point."

Annabeth pushed her away, rolling her eyes. "Okay, okay, I've got to go." She was going to be late and she would rather deal with a Luke who wasn't mad from the start.

"Good luck," Piper said, pulling her into an abrupt hug. Annabeth buried her face in Piper's thick hair, holding onto the supportive feeling for a moment longer. She knew she'd need it.

She pulled away. "Will you be here afterward?" she asked.

Piper smiled and shook her head like it was a stupid question. "Like you even need to ask. I'll go get ice cream while you're gone."

:::

Annabeth was reassured that it would be the last time she would feel this dread in the pit of her stomach before a date with Luke. She couldn't see him in the restaurant, which didn't help her feeling of being watched. Was he waiting for her to show up first?

She walked in, looking around for a familiar head of blonde hair and a familiar hard expression. The Chinese restaurant was comfortably warm and bustling with activity. It smelled heavenly and Annabeth's mouth watered. She stood at the queue, behind a family of three waiting to be seated. Everything was washed in soft golden light and memories of sunsets and long drives made her relax.

"Hello, table for…?" the hostess asked after returning from seating the family. She was vaguely disheveled but smiling widely.

"Two," Annabeth answered, holding up two fingers.

"Right this way." The hostess led Annabeth through the restaurant, and to a more dimly lit and thinly populated corner of the restaurant. Annabeth would have preferred somewhere less private, somewhere where Luke was hopefully less likely to make a scene, but she was hesitant to ask the hostess to reseat her.

"And what name should I pass on?" The hostess asked.

"Annabeth."

The hostess nodded and walked away, leaving Annabeth to sit in the faint lighting and stew. She already felt herself losing her nerve, a part of her asking "is it really that bad?" She tried to hold onto the part of her that knew that she and Luke weren't right for each other anymore, but that part seemed to get smaller and smaller.

"Annabeth!"

She looked up as Luke approached her table and smiled, unjustified terror turning her veins to ice. She couldn't even understand why she felt this way—Luke wasn't that bad, really. He was just another asshole, like Piper said, but she felt frozen in her seat.

He stood by his chair without sitting and she realized he was waiting for something. Annabeth easily stepped into her role, getting up to hug him. He wrapped her in his arms and kissed her cheek but all Annabeth could think of was how she longed for one of Piper's hugs instead.

He released her and sat down, to which she followed, the chair squeaking as she settled into it.

"How've you been?" he asked her, blue eyes piercing.

Without thinking, she told him the truth. "It's actually been kind of hard. I'm not sure if you heard about Beckendorf."

Luke's eyebrows knit in confusion. "Beckendorf?"

"Silena's boyfriend," Annabeth clarified. "He died."

Luke sighed slowly and reached out for her hand. "Are you okay?" he asked, face lined with sympathy. She searched him for signs of insincerity, but found none. He seemed like he was actually concerned for her.

"Mostly," she said. Luke was rubbing her hand with his thumb, a softly comforting gesture. "I'm mostly just worried about Silena."

Luke frowned. "Yeah, she—I'm sure it's been hard for her." Something flickered in his eyes, but Annabeth was too distracted with the reminder that Luke loved her. It sent her reeling—in his absence she'd grown used to the idea of his coldness, his controlling, his callousness—but he wasn't always like that. There was warmth, familiarity, and there was love, however imperfect it may be.

Annabeth pulled her hands away, trying to steel herself to say how she felt. But that in itself was much different now than it had been thirty minutes ago.

Their waitress came over and Luke ordered their food. Annabeth hadn't even thought to look at the menu, her nerves too jumpy to concentrate on much other than the mess of emotions inside her. Maybe she should wait. If there was food coming, maybe she should eat first.

Luke was talking about his trip—to Paris? Or was that the last one. Annabeth tried to concentrate on it, but she could hear her heartbeat in her ears and taste it in her throat. The glaring lights of the restaurant burned orange and she blinked.

"Hey, hey, babe?" Luke reached out for her, taking her hands again. "Annabeth?"

She focused on his voice, on the softness of his hands. Her vision unblurred and she watched his face, concern and panic written across it. She longed to smooth the wrinkle between his eyebrows—it was an indication of an age he'd never get to reach.

Her breathing returned to normal and her thoughts untangled themselves. Luke held her hand throughout, whispering encouragements. She clung to him like a lifeline. He glanced around at the other tables anxiously, but Annabeth didn't want to know if the people around her were looking at her. She wasn't sure what had happened, but she was sure if Piper were here, she'd have an answer.

"Annabeth, can you hear me?" Luke was saying. She nodded, blinking at him. "Are you okay?"

She nodded again. "I'm okay," she said. She felt exhausted suddenly.

"Is this about what's happening with Silena?" Luke asked. "And about…" he glanced down at her timer. Annabeth was shocked he was even acknowledging it.

She couldn't tell him what the real reason was. She couldn't even understand it herself. She took the easy route. "Yeah, I'm—"

"It's okay," Luke said. His eyes were gentle and his touch even more so. "I think the food's here."

Annabeth looked up to see the waitress bringing them steaming plates, face dubious. She set down the plates, warning them against touching them for risk of burning. Luke thanked her.

Annabeth tucked into her food, suddenly ravenous. She shoveled fried rice and spicy sliced pork into her mouth.

"Woah, slow down," Luke said, a sharp edge to his laugh. He was still looking around at the other patrons in the restaurant.

Annabeth sat back, wiping her mouth sheepishly. "Sorry. Just...hungry."

"No kidding." Luke scraped his chopsticks against his plate, trying to pick up his noodles. "You must be really stressed. It's a good thing I've got the perfect thing for that."

"Really?" Annabeth asked. She vaguely remembered him promising something special before he left on his trip. "What is it?"

"Now that I've brought up a gift you're fine again," Luke teased. "You know how you've always wanted to go to Europe?"

Annabeth's eyes widened as she thought about all the places she wanted to go—the Acropolis, the Pantheon, the Louvre. All the places she'd promised herself she'd visit, but never had the chance to. She still thought about it sometimes, just hopping on a plane, classes be damned.

"Well, I want you to come to London with me," he said. "Just for a trip."

London. Annabeth had always wanted to go to London, even if it wasn't one of her top choices. The British Museum, the Globe Theater, the Royal Botanical Gardens. It would be a dream.

And a convenient choice for Luke's work.

"Are you going to be working?" she asked.

"No, no," Luke said. "Well, I'll be there for work a week before you, but then you can come join me. We can do whatever you want."

Annabeth stayed silent. She'd always wanted to travel, sure, but she'd come here with a plan. She had to break up with Luke, but she didn't quite remember why. Sure, she remembered details, but they seemed so small and insignificant now that she was across from him.

"Aren't you excited?" Luke asked. "I thought I'd at least get a smile. Or a thank you."

Annabeth smiled for him. "Thank you."

He smiled back at her. "I think it'll be good for you. It'll give you some distance from everyone, get us some alone time."

She nodded. Alone time with Luke...she didn't want that, did she?

"You should eat. You like the food, don't you?" he said, gesturing to her plate.

Annabeth felt so tired. She brought the rice to her mouth and it tasted like nothing. Would he be mad if she left right now? She just wanted to sleep and not have to worry about Luke or Silena or what Piper would think about her when she came back to the dorm not having broken up with Luke.

"Have you been up to anything else?" Luke asked her.

She shook her head. "Just school. I spent a few nights with Piper."

"She's an interesting girl," Luke noted. "Did you finish the project with Percy?"

Annabeth didn't want to talk about this. She didn't want to talk at all. "Yeah, about a week and a half ago." She wished Luke wouldn't talk about Percy. She wished he would hold her hand again and stroke her palm with his thumb.

"That's good. I remember you saying you didn't really like him that much." He looked so nonchalant, like he really couldn't care less. Just eating his noodles slowly, face horribly neutral. He looked kind in the soft light and it hurt Annabeth to think that he wasn't.

"Did I say that?" she questioned.

"Yeah, last time. Or maybe the time before that. You said he was annoying."

She tried to think back. She hadn't said that—had she? She definitely had thought he was annoying at first, but at that point, she'd gotten past it. Right? She was starting to second guess herself.

"I don't remember that," she said.

"That's okay. You've obviously been pretty stressed out recently." He reached over for her and she brought her hand back onto the table. He clasped it tightly. "Hey, are you sure you're okay? You seem kind of—"

"I think I might need to go home," she said.

"You sure you can't stay a little bit longer?" Luke said.

She shook her head. Her freak out earlier had drained her and her conflicting feelings about Luke were clouding her head.

"Not even for thirty more minutes?" he said. "It's really not that long."

There was logic in what he was saying, but Annabeth had to put her foot down here at least. She tried to find that defiance she had been practicing in the mirror.

"No, I really need to go. Sorry." She stood up and Luke let go of her hand. "We can go out another time."

He seemed to relax with that. "Okay, do what you need to."

As she walked away from the table, she could feel herself untense. But the farther she got from the restaurant, the closer she got to her dorm. To Piper. And suddenly shame washed over her. She'd failed. She'd come here for a specific purpose and she failed. Not only had she not broken up with Luke, but she had promised him a next time.

God, what would Piper think of her? Was there a way to convince Piper of Luke's virtue? How could she translate the way Luke had looked at her, had cared for her into words? Piper couldn't understand their connection—it was more than time, more than past. It was love.

The draw to her bed was stronger than the pull away from confronting Piper and she found herself in front of her dorm door. She had started to cry—the last straw of the humiliating Sunday.

The moment she opened the door, Piper jumped up from her bed and came over to her.

"Oh, Annabeth," she said, wrapping her up in a hug. It had felt so comforting earlier, but now she just felt caged in. Would Piper be reacting like this if she knew she'd failed?

She found she wasn't able to say anything as she cried harder.

"Hey, it's okay. It'll get better," Piper said, rubbing her back. "He'll just be a dot in your timeline."

Annabeth wretched herself from Piper's grasp and moved to her bed. She struggled out of her coat, focusing on her breathing to try and calm herself down. She'd never been a huge crier before—maybe Luke was right, maybe she was stressed.

"Let me help," Piper said, pulling Annabeth's arms free from her coat. She unwrapped her scarf from around her neck, throwing it into her closet.

In. Out. In. Out. Annabeth felt herself calming down. Enough to rip off the bandaid and tell Piper the truth. It would come out somehow. "I didn't—I couldn't do it."

Piper stopped searching for her freezer bag of ice cream. "You didn't…?"

Annabeth shook her head. "I couldn't."

Gently, Piper perched herself next to Annabeth. Bizarrely, Annabeth wished she had Piper's stuffed cow with her. It would have been nice to have something to hide herself behind.

"So, how come?" Piper said delicately.

"I was going to," Annabeth defended. "But then he just...something in his face. I just couldn't."

"Something in his face?"

Annabeth wished she could describe what she saw. The gentleness, the concern. It was like how he'd looked before, when he had both her and Thalia to take care of. His girls. Now his girl. "It was love."

"I'm sure he does love you," Piper said. "But that doesn't mean he can—"

Annabeth shook her head. "I know, I know. But in that moment...it was like all the bad stuff disappeared. And I couldn't imagine leaving him. And the thought of it just made me feel so…"

"So…?" Piper prompted. Her soft brown eyes searched Annabeth's face.

"Like the world was closing in on me. Like I couldn't breathe. I don't know why—" she looked down at her shaking palms, looked at the lines crossing them. "—why does he make me feel like this? He's just a guy."

"He's not," Piper said, closing her hands around Annabeth's, her smooth brown skin contrasting with Annabeth's blotchy red. "To you, he's more than that. It's not...easy, what you're going through. We can't choose the effects people have on us. We can just choose how we deal with the things they make us feel. How we cope. How we move on."

"I don't know what to choose," Annabeth said miserably.

"I'll help you where I can, but it's ultimately your choice. You're strong, Annabeth. I know you'll make the right decision."

Annabeth laid sideways onto the bed and brought Piper down with her. They laid next to each other, still holding on to each other's hands. Annabeth was suddenly so incredibly grateful for Piper's friendship. She couldn't imagine what she'd do without her.

"I love you," she said quietly.

Piper smiled, eyes crinkling. "Love you too." She gripped Annabeth's hand hard, squeezing until it almost hurt. "Forever and always."

"Forever and always," Annabeth repeated. She wished her forever wasn't so short.

:::

"Wait, so you didn't break up with him?" Hazel asked. Annabeth listened for the judgment in her voice, but found none.

She adjusted in the uncomfortable wire cafe chair and shook her head. "No, I couldn't."

"Why not?"

Now days after, Annabeth still didn't have an answer. All she knew was that she couldn't at the time. It felt silly—there was no reason for her to have reacted in such a way, but thinking about how constricted her chest had felt and the feeling of blood rushing past her ears brought similar feelings of itching panic.

Piper looked at her from the other side of the table, asking a silent question. Annabeth nodded imperceptibly.

"She had a panic attack," Piper said and Hazel hummed in understanding.

"Those are hard," Hazel said. Piper nodded in agreement.

As understanding as her friends had been, Annabeth was still mad at herself. She hadn't had a panic attack like that in years, not since she was 16. It felt like she was going backwards, like all of the progress she had made was coming undone.

And what did she even have to be so panicked about? Of all of the things that had happened in her life, it was her complicated relationship that reduced her to tears.

"Do you think you'll try again?" Hazel asked. Today, she was wearing a rose quartz necklace and Annabeth focused on that as she answered, an excuse to avoid looking at her face.

"I don't know. I'm not sure I'd be able to." It hurt her pride to say that, but she never wanted to feel like that again. If she had to put up with a few of Luke's lesser qualities, she would.

Piper and Hazel exchanged a significant look, but said nothing. Annabeth tried not to glower at her burger. Maybe introducing her two friends had been a mistake after all, especially if they were already having eye-contact conversations about her.

Piper opened her mouth, but paused. She seemed to change her mind at the last minute, saying, "Can I have your pickle?"

"No way, this is mine," Annabeth said, moving her plate away from her. It didn't make much of a difference. The white wire table was already too small for all of their plates as it was.

Hazel reached across the table to move her pickle from her plate to Piper's. "You can have mine. I don't like pickles."

Piper didn't either, which was how Annabeth knew she wanted to say something else but wasn't sure how to. Nonetheless, Piper took an intrepid bite and tried to turn her grimace into a smile. It was an unsuccessful attempt and Hazel laughed. "Thanks."

Annabeth rolled her eyes and took Piper's pickles off her plate. "Spit it out," she said, then backtracked. "Not the pickle. Your question. Comment. Whatever."

Piper thankfully did not spit the pickle out, instead swallowing her bite before she said "I'll support you no matter what you do…"

"But…?"

Piper kicked her feet under the table. "But nothing. I'll support you no matter what. Period."

"Me too," Hazel added. Piper smiled at her and nodded.

"We both will. And...if you do try again with Luke, I think it'll need to be on your terms this time." She settled forward on her elbows, leaning over her plate towards Annabeth.

"What do you mean?" Annabeth couldn't imagine a situation where breaking up with Luke wouldn't feel like shit, but then again, earlier in the semester she couldn't even imagine wanting to break up with him in the first place. Even now, she was afraid to see him because every time his eyes met hers, she forgot why she'd ever considered ending it to begin with.

"Like… he picked the restaurant, right? And the time. And the whole vibe of the evening—date night. Right?" Piper said. She picked at her veggie burger with her fork, pulling it apart methodically.

"Yeah, I guess so," Annabeth said. "I don't really see why that's relevant. It's not like breaking up with him at ten in the morning instead of eight at night would make a difference."

"No, no, I think I know what Piper's trying to say," Hazel said. She pushed her hair over her shoulder, leaning forward as well. Annabeth, feeling heavily scrutinized by the two of them, leaned further back in her chair. "If everything is his decision, then he's picking the battlefield."

"Battlefield?" Annabeth said, looking over to Piper. Piper just shrugged.

"Battlefield, chessboard, whatever. He makes all of the choices, it puts him in control and makes him comfortable. But it's not him that needs to be comfortable, it's you."

Annabeth liked the way Hazel talked with her hands much more when she wasn't making jabby-pointing motions at her. She tried to think of what Hazel was suggesting, but it still wasn't completely clear. "Like… I should choose?"

Piper breathed out a sigh of relief. "Yes, exactly!"

"If you're somewhere you choose to be, setting the mood you choose, that puts you in control. And it'll make you feel safer and more comfortable," Hazel said. "Of course you freaked out before. You were doing something scary in an unfamiliar place on a night that Luke expected to be romantic."

"But imagine if it was, like you said, ten in the morning at a bookstore and it was just supposed to be a 'get together,'" Piper said. "It would feel different."

"On my terms…" Annabeth said, starting to understand what they were saying. Luke always chose everything for the two of them—where they'd go, what they'd do, when they'd meet. She'd always let him before, but maybe now it was time for that to end.

"On your terms," Piper repeated. "It still won't be easy—"

"But it might be better," Hazel finished for her. Their eyes met over the table again and this time it was Annabeth who was smiling.

"I'm so glad I introduced you two," she said, and meant it.

"Me too," Hazel said, her white teeth sparkling. "I actually can't believe we'd never met."

"How come?" Annabeth asked. She was happy for the easy transition to another topic. The subject of Luke was exhausted by now and she just wanted to move on.

"Leo," Piper said. "Hazel's friend's with him and so am I."

"You're friends with him?" Annabeth asked. She'd thought they were mostly acquaintances through Jason.

"Yeah, I guess we are. We just kind of ended up hanging out a lot because of Jason and then we kind of decided Jason doesn't always need to be there."

"Huh," Annabeth said. She was dubious about Leo's virtues as a friend—so far all of their interactions just made Annabeth feel vaguely irritated, even if it had gotten better lately.

Hazel laughed as if she could tell what Annabeth was thinking. "He gets better once you get to know him better."

"Yeah, the facade comes off," Piper said. "There's a lot more there than you'd think."

Annabeth was still dubious, but she just shrugged. "If you say so."

"Do you think we should get dessert?" Hazel asked, flipping the menu over.

"With lunch?" Piper asked. Hazel looked up from the menu, beginning to blush. "Of course."

Annabeth laughed and happily helped them pick out their dessert options.

:::

Not wanting to leave the comfortable stasis created between her and her friends in the burger bistro, Annabeth drew out the conversation, hopping from subjects ranging from failed midterms to road trip ideas that would never come to fruition. The din of the room, along with the comfortable atmosphere (despite the uncomfortable chairs) made going anywhere else seem unappealing. Here, she didn't have to face anything.

Outside, it had started to rain. Fat raindrops turned the pavement into a mirror of the traffic lights above. The water gathered into puddles that children walking with their parents splashed in, much to their parent's chagrin. Annabeth knew she had been that small once, although it was hard to remember. She once owned a pair of owl rain boots, and she had cried when she outgrew them. That had probably also been around the time she'd outgrown splashing in puddles.

She scraped the remainders of their cheesecake from the plate in front of her, and licking her fork, tried to zone in on Hazel and Piper's conversation.

"I actually haven't seen that one. I'm more into old movies," Hazel said. "I mean, not exclusively."

"Old? Like how old?" Piper asked, twirling a piece of her hair around her fingers. The tips of the strand were discolored, like she had drawn over it with a sharpie. Perhaps she had.

"Like...golden age Hollywood," Hazel said. "Like Ingrid Bergman and Kathrine Hepburn."

"Oh, so pretty old," Piper said, impressed. She'd always been more of a 'movie' person than a 'film' person.

"Yeah, I mean, I like modern cinema a lot too. It's a lot more diverse, which is nice, but I just kind of feel a connection to the past. There's kind of an old romanticism that I really like."

Annabeth listened halfheartedly. She liked watching movies, but she wouldn't really describe herself as a "movie person." But it was nice to listen to Piper and Hazel talk about something they appreciated so much. She traced the edge of her glass, watching the melted ice at the bottom. They'd been here for a while, but she wasn't sure how long.

She brought out her phone and checked the time, swiping through her notifications. She paused at her email, looking at an uncomfortably familiar name.

She scoffed out loud, swiping it away. Hazel and Piper's heads turned towards her.

"What's up?" Piper asked.

Annabeth had already started sliding her phone away and she just shook her head. "Nothing important. What were you saying, Piper?"

Piper shrugged. "Nothing, really." Hazel gave her a confused look. "I'd rather know what's up with you."

Annabeth rolled her eyes. "Just another email from my dad."

Piper hummed in understanding. "What'd he say this time?" She'd been privy to some of his more nonsensical emails, most of which Annabeth deleted without opening.

"I don't know," Annabeth said, taking her phone back out and opening her email properly. She clicked on the email.

From: fchase

To:

Subject: check this out

Link

Love Isi

Annabeth opened the link and snorted. "The Worst Plane of WW2" the headline read and underneath a short video showing engineering plans began to autoplay. She quickly turned down the volume as a pompous British man began a monotone drone. Piper laughed.

"A Frederick Chase classic," she said, commenting on Annabeth's father's love of vintage aircraft.

"That's nice of him," Hazel said, looking between Annabeth and Piper with a slightly perplexed expression. Annabeth realized she hadn't really told Hazel about her relationship with her dad—only bits and pieces. She didn't understand that this was as far as their communication went. Annabeth deleted the email and tried to explain.

"He just does this sometimes. I'll go a few months without hearing from him, and then he'll send me some random article or a few questions about my life and that's it," she said.

"Well, at least he's trying," Hazel said, frowning.

Annabeth shrugged. "I don't know. It just seems like too little too late."

"Have you ever tried responding?"

Annabeth shook her head. "I used to. But if I said something he didn't like, like if I mentioned my timer or my mom, he'd just ignore it."

"If he was really trying, he'd at least send her links to things she'd care about," Piper said.

Annabeth nodded. "Exactly. After all of the shit I went through with him, I expect a little bit more."

"I don't really...I mean, you said you left him, right? You ran away and went to stay with your mom," Hazel asked.

"Yeah, I guess, to put it simply," Annabeth said. A long time ago, thinking about this would have closed her off instantly, but it felt so distant now it was almost like it had happened to someone else. It was just among the other facts she memorized about her childhood—she lived in San Francisco, she had owl rain boots, she ran away from home.

"Maybe he's not sure whether you'd even want him to reach out," Hazel suggested.

Piper pursed her lips, tilting her head towards Hazel. "She's kind of got a point. As bullshit as his emails are, he's still sending them after all these years."

Annabeth tried to imagine her dad as he was now. It had been five years since she had seen him, except for the time he had invited her to reconnect with the family over a truly disastrous hockey game (the San Jose Sharks had won, but Annabeth sure hadn't). She imagined he was greyer and a bit more wrinkled. The happy tiredness he held in his forehead would still be there, as would the narrowed disapproval in his mouth. She tried to imagine him writing emails to her and reading the ones she used to send back.

"It shows that he's thinking of you," Hazel said. "I wish I knew my mom was thinking of me."

Annabeth's focus lept from her own father to the subject of Hazel's mother.

"Your mom?" Piper said, mirroring Annabeth's thoughts.

Hazel sighed and her shoulders slumped. "We don't really talk anymore."

"How come?" Annabeth asked.

Hazel's change in demeanor was so instant that Annabeth had hardly noticed when it happened. She suddenly looked so small, reminding Annabeth that she was only eighteen. Annabeth was only two years older, but in the moment it felt like lifetimes.

"We had a fight before I left," Hazel said. "She didn't want me to come here."

"Why not?" Piper asked. Annabeth watched Hazel focus against the drops of rain on the windows of the Bistro. They skirted around the painted lettering, leaving tear tracks on the glass. Annabeth wondered if she would tell Piper about her timer. She seemed to be thinking about it.

"My timer ran out a while ago," Hazel finally said. Piper's eyes darted to her bandaged wrist and then to Annabeth.

"How're you still here?" Piper asked.

Hazel shook her head. "No one knows. But you can imagine that my mother doesn't want me too far away."

Piper let out a whoosh of breath. "Makes you wonder how people got on before timers."

"Probably easier," Annabeth said, not really thinking about it.

Hazel looked away from the window and crossed her legs under the table. Her knee bumped into Annabeth's. "Why do you say that?"

Annabeth didn't know. She didn't really know what she was thinking, but she could feel that it was true. "I think if we didn't have them...we'd spend less time thinking about dying. We wouldn't be so preoccupied with the ending and spend more time focusing on the time spent getting there." She thought about what Percy had said. There's as much point in counting seconds as there is in counting stars. Maybe that only applied when you didn't know the number of stars to begin with.

"I guess so," Hazel said. "I know it's caused me a lot of problems."

"Me too," Annabeth agreed.

"But those are the people who are flawed," Piper argued. "Timers or not, people are still people."

They sat in silence for a minute, resting under the weight of that statement. Piper was right, and they all knew it.

Annabeth thought about her dad. Ultimately it was his choices that drove her away, not her timer. He was certainly flawed, but then again, so was she. And whether she wanted to admit it or not, a part of her missed him. She brought out her phone again and opened her email, looking through her deleted folder. She found the email and restored it. She wasn't sure what she would say, but she could at least think about it.

"Do you think we're ready to go?" Piper asked.

Annabeth looked at the rain outside. She thought about splashing through the puddles, and the way they'd soak through her canvas shoes. She might have to walk home with wet feet, but maybe it would be worth it. She smiled. "Yeah, I think so."