Author's Note: Hi, guys. I am SO SO SO SO sorry for my absence, but I need to break to you some sad news: My iPad broke. And for those of you that don't know, I type EVERYTHING on that iPad. I had 6 chapters ready to go for the end of the story, only needing to write a few transitional chapters. I don't have a backup file, and I'm not sure how long it'll take me to get the next chapter written.
I'm sorry about the absence, but here's the chapter for this week. Im trying to refer the story, but doubt it'll happen. The story WILL continue, don't doubt it, but updates may be slower.
I also would like to note that I do not own Percy Jackson or O Brother Where Art Thou or Cheerios.
-Winter'sFangirl
Annabeth
"They're flying in two weeks beforehand to help."
The words that leave Percy's mouth bring on a torrent of fears, though they all tie back to one thing. Or, rather, person- my stepmother Carol.
I had been able to avoid contact with any of my family for months, and now I was gong to have to see them? So soon...
Normally, Percy bringing up the wedding would make me have a nervous breakdown on its own and cause days of awkward. Now? It doesn't even faze me. The only thing I can dwell on is the sentence that just came out of his mouth.
"They're flying in."
I scowl into my ice cream. They can't come. It'll ruin everything. It's too soon to see them, it's always too soon to see them.
"No no no no no no no no no." I whisper. Carol would interfere with the normality of things, take the stable relationship I had and crush it with her words. There'd be constant nagging, orders to be more feminine. And Thalia, gods, what about Thalia? She's been free of the façade, the mask that she wears in front of Carol. She won't stand for playing the part of a maid all week, having to hold her tongue and be at Carol's beck and call. The incidents over the years are too numerous to ignore. It's a wonder Carol didn't turn the both of us into the streets.
She was yelling, always yelling. My As weren't cutting it, I should be more feminine, why couldn't I just listen? And then 'the stupid ward' needed to learn her place, what did my father think, letting someone with such colorful family history stay with her children? Thalia and I weren't pulling our weight. Why didn't I have a job?
On and on and on. The shouting never ended. I was never good enough.
Sometimes it was so bad that I cried. Sometimes it got so bad that Thalia and I would just leave the house for hours to get away from it all. Sometimes Thalia would shout back and I'd stand, paralyzed with fear, wondering if this would be the fight that got her kicked out. It never was, but there was always the worry.
And then there was the time I snapped.
She'd been on my case for quitting cotillion. Apparently it was making a comeback, and Carol wanted our family to have a foothold in upper society. For her, it meant status and shopping. For me, it meant dressing up in frilly dresses to drink tea with a bunch of snobs.
I hadn't wanted to waste my time, and said as much. "They hate me there, anyway!" I'd shouted. And it was true- Thals had helped pick my dress for the first day, a black silk sundress thing. I stuck out like a sore thumb among all the peaches and lilacs. They'd stared at me like a freak, whispered behind my back, and put on fake smiles when I spoke to them.
Carol wasn't going to have it. "Do you know how hard I worked to give you an opportunity? And you wasted it! You're so ungrateful!" She said other things, but then I called her a troll. She'd yanked my wrist, and then Thalia threw a drawer full of forks at her.
"Annabeth?" Percy's voice begins to pull me back to the present, though I'm still spiraling down a staircase of memories. "Annabeth!"
"I'm fine," I assure him, though my voice is hard and forced. I'm fine. Only I'm not sure if I'm reassuring Percy or myself.
"Annabeth? Are you okay?" Percy's voice is laced with worry and a tinge of fear.
He's asked a good question: am I okay? Am I? Goosebumps run over my skin as I answer. My voice is barely above a whisper. "No." I realize that my fist is clenching around the spoon, my nails digging into my palms.
"Do you want to talk about it?" I scoff. As if talking would help. I stand abruptly and walk out of the cafè into the rain, my only thought being to get away. Get away from here, from Percy, from being Annabeth Chase.
It's pouring harder now. "Great," I mutter. I can't walk very far in heels. Maybe I could call Silenna? I duck into another store, some whole foods market. There's a cappuccino machine, so I get one to drink. I press three dollars into the hand of the lady at the counter; her name tag reads 'Fleecy'.
"Welcome to Rainbow Organic Foods and Lifestyles! Can I help you with anything else?" Her voice is so cheerful, only adding to the image of the store. This place is too... Happy. Thalia would hate it.
"Um," I say, looking around. "No, just browsing, thanks." The place is stocked with shelves. They line the walls, create aisles, take up every available space. The shelves are covered in hippie junk- statutes of Buddha, gluten-free snack products, those little waving Chinese cat statues. Dream catchers hang from the ceiling, wind chimes in the display window.
Fleecy nods and goes back to folding shirts that read 'The Goddess is ALIVE!', whatever the hell that means. I wander towards the cereal aisle, looking for some health junk that Carol went nuts over in California. Might as well start preparing for their arrival.
"There's something off about your aura. Must have an unbalanced chakra. Here-" Fleecy lights a purple stick of incense and waves it around. "That should help." I try not to laugh (what the heck is a chakra?) and instead turn back to the shelf of granola and cereal.
"Hmm..." I don't know what kind Carol eats, and am not going to dwell on her. Might as well hang out here 'til the rain stops.
I wander over to the clothing side of the store and begin rummaging through the stacks of shirts and bins of barley, piles of purses and droves of Ding Dongs.
Two women come from a back room and start talking animatedly.
"Welcome! I'm Demeter! I take it you're a fan of cereal?" One embraces me, even though I've never seen her before. She has tan skin and hair the color of summer wheat.
"Oh, well I-" so much for finishing my sentence.
"That's lovely! There's an organic mix of whole grain oats, almonds, dried pomegranates and dark chocolate that is to die for, plus it's GMO-free, soy-free, and great for the digestive system!"
"That's nice. I prefer Cheerios myself, but..." I don't think she's listening. Demeter keeps talking about cereal and grains and 'what a shame it is, farmers adding chemicals to their wheat'. Her business partner introduces herself as Iris and begins talking about garden gnomes and Taoism. My phone buzzes, but I don't answer it. I'm not ready to go home, not yet.
Though I might try to escape this place. One more mention of 'disrupting my wa' or grains and my head might explode.
Iris excuses herself to the back to get a catalogue to show me 'the most calming water fountains!' and Demeter's still talking about cereal- this time, Cheerios' decision to stop using grains grown with GMOs- so I wave to Fleecy and step outside.
It's still drizzling, the sky growing darker. It's nearly 8:30, I realize. Percy's probably lost.
Do I even know where I am? I could always find a map, but I'm not sure how to get back home. Might as well call and find out.
He picks up on the first ring. "Oh gods, Annabeth! Where are you?"
I glance around, searching for a street sign. "Um... Next door to the ice cream place? Where are you?" I want to apologize, need to apologize. But that's something that should be done in person. I duck under the awning of said ice cream place, trying to stay out of people's way.
"Currently? Walking down the sidewalk. I'm about three blocks away. I'll be there in ten minutes. And Annabeth?" He adds. "I'm sorry about... Y'know." He doesn't want to upset me again by mentioning the people I know in California. "I didn't know them coming in would upset you so much."
"Can we talk about this later? Please?" When I won't have a breakdown in a very crowded public place?
Percy, gods bless his soul, relents. "Okay, later. But we need to talk about it."
I know. "I know." A woman takes two children into the ice cream shop. I step out of their way, smiling at the kids. The little boy gives a shy wave back and slips inside, holding his sister's hand.
"I'll be there in three minutes, okay?"
"Okay." A crowd of people walk across a crosswalk. A double-decker bus stops, full of tourists with their brightly colored shirts and cameras. Somewhere, several streets away, a siren sounds. The rain pours harder.
"Two minutes." He promises.
"Two minutes." I confirm.
A minute and forty-two seconds later, someone taps me on the shoulder. I turn around and meet the worried green eyes of Percy.
There are no hellos or 'where the hell have you been's. There's just staring, for a second, before the apologies start.
"Percy, I'm sorry. Really, I just-" So many things I want to say, that I need to say, and they sounded fine in my head. But now he's in front of me, and it all seems so childish. "I acted like a two-year old. I just... I can't see them, Percy, I can't."
"Annabeth, you're soaked."
I'm soaked? I'm soaked?!? "You're the one that just ran three blocks in the rain."
"I also almost got hit by a Cadillac." He says, his tone light. I fight a smile. "You think it's funny! Do you want me to get run over?"
No, I want to say. Please don't get run over. If you get run over, I have to go to a funeral. I hate funerals. They remind me of Carol. Stupid funerals. Stupid stepmother. Sucking the life out of everything. "I'd rather you not. I'm getting used to you being around." Funerals. What an odd word. A word that describes a house of death has the word 'fun' in it. Who even made the English language?
Percy gives a small smile. "I'd prefer not to get run over," he says. "You ready to go home?"
I nod. I always used to think California was my home, it being the place I grew up and where my family was. But now, I realize, my home is here, in New York, with Percy and Thalia. They're my family, even though we aren't blood related. The bond I have with them is stronger, because blood is technically required to care for you even if they hate you, like Carol. But people who you aren't related to at all, if they care they mean it. They have the choice to leave, and they love you enough to stick around.
Thalia
I grab Luke and pull him from the kitchen the next morning. "We need to talk," I say quietly. No one can know about this. Annabeth isn't going to want to leave, but I'm determined to, with or without her. Preferably with, but things might not work out that way. "About us going to R-U-N-N-O-F-T." If anyone were to hear us, they'd think we were talking about O Brother Where Art Thou. Hopefully.
"Okay," Luke says. "I get off today at seven."
Seven. That's hours from now, but the perfect time. "That works. Annabeth's going out around five, to see a play or something. Outside, by the lake?"
He responds with a nod. "Okay, that works. I've got to get back before Lotta misses me. She's a witch when she's stressed."
"So, all the time?" Luke laughs.
"Pretty much. See ya." He ducks back into the kitchen, leaving me alone in the halls.
I don't know where Annabeth is, but the files of everything from the escape plan are in her room. I'm not doing anything today, so I might as well work on those.