I'm on my eighth cup of tea…

I should be studying for Bio…

I have 5,016 words written so far…

But I have no excuses for being gone for so long.

(Go read Lily's reviews – yeah, plural reviews - for Chapter 20; she's the reason this is here right now.)

So I'm sorry.

This chapter has everything a chapter should technically have. It has feels, and fluff, and fact, and plot. Although it doesn't end with a cliffhanger, it ends with an unresolved problem.

I hope you like it! My fingers are crossed!

(And OH MY GOD guys, The Blood of Olympus? CANON PERCABETH IS OVER! THIS IS SO DEPRESSING! I mean, this is the Harry Potter of our generation. And I have just one question:

Who the heck are the gods of Angus, and WHY DO I HAVE TO WAIT A YEAR TO FIND OUT? And Chase? Is this a feminist Percabeth child who took his/her mother's maiden name? GAAAAAAAH I HATE YOU MR. RIORDAN! YOU'VE BEEN TORTURING ME FOR TOO LONG ALREADY!)

Percy took one look at the mopey faces at breakfast and knew.

Back to school blues.

School started tomorrow, for the gods' sakes. How were they supposed to enjoy this last hurrah of the summer? This was the Roman kids' first real school experience, Hazel being from the '40s, Frank homeschooled, and Jason going to the "New Rome Parochial School" (ha, ha). This was sonot normal.

"I know what we're doing," Percy announced, flinging himself dramatically into his seat.

They looked up hopefully.

"We-" here, he paused for dramatic effect "-are going to the city. And I am going to teach you how to not be a tourist."

Annabeth groaned. "Percy, we've been over this a thousand times. You teaching us how to not be a tourist is demoralizing to those of us who've had your 'lessons' and still can't navigate the city, okay?"

"Contrary to popular belief," Percy continued over Annabeth's protesting, "Tourism is a bad thing. You don't want to look like a tourist. Especially because you're about a thousand times more likely to get mugged. So we are going to the city whether you like it or not, and Annabeth, you're coming with."

"That sentence ended in a preposition," Annabeth muttered.

Percy gave her a sweet smile. "Watch me pretend to care." He turned back to the group. "You all in?"

"Rule Number One: Know where you're going," Percy stated, sitting himself down on the subway. "We are going to the MoMA."

"The what?" Hazel asked.

"The Museum of Modern Art," Percy explained. "We're going to do the sculptures today, because we have to get a move on. But we're going to see Chesed and Terma and The White Tubular Glyph, all by Carol Bove, and There Is No Killing What Can't Be Killed, by Huma Bhabha, and Triple Point (Pendulum) by Sarah Sze, and all kinds of awesome things. Since you guys are unfortunately tourists, and we do have to tour New York, we're not going to do the MoMA justice. But tourists try to cram the whole museum into one half hour. We are going with the understanding that we won't be seeing everything."

Frank creased his brow. "You're into art?"

"No," Percy admitted. "I just like the statue of Gabe. But you guys will like it. Plus, the MoMA is a must."

"Then what are we going to do?" Piper asked, bouncing in her seat.

"The New York Public Library, because my tourist girlfriend has never been there, despite living on Long Island since she was seven."

"That's not even near the MoMA," Annabeth grumbled.

"That would be accurate," Percy asserted. "Which is where Rules Number Two and Three come in. Two, walk like a New Yorker, and Three, understand the streets. I'm going to help you with Rule Number Three right now. Ready? New York is the easiest city in the world to navigate. The streets are a grid, for the gods' sakes. It's really simple. Everything to the west of Fifth Avenue is West X Street and everything to the east of it is East X Street. Simple. I never understood those tourists that get lost. It's like, hellooooo? Grid."

"Where's Central Park?" Jason asked. He shrugged. "It's the only thing I know that's in New York."

"Whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa," Percy said, a hint of his accent already creeping into his voice as he increased steadily in speed and volume. "Stop right there. The only thing? How about Ground Zero? The NYPL? There are fifty bazillion museums. Times Squah? Have you evah actually been to the Empire State Building, nawt foh Olympus? Madison Squah Gahden! Rockefellah Centah! Coney Island? Ellis Island? The Chryslah? The Statue of Libahty, for the gods' sakes! Radio City! The zoo, the Bronx-"

Annabeth smacked her hand across his lips. "Shut up. You don't have to list every single tourist attraction in the entire borough, you know. Or rather, ya know."

Percy pointed at her. "Don't imitate my accent unless you want me to do my California Girl impersonation." His accent was apparently back under control.

Annabeth shuddered. "Never mind."

"Should I just Google it when I get home?" Jason muttered to Piper out of the corner of his mouth.

Percy heard. "West Fifty-Ninth to One Hundred and Tenth, between Eighth and Fifth."

"It's big," Frank said unnecessarily.

"It's fun to jog," Percy said, beaming. "One of the Park Drive runs is about six miles, I think. That's the longest. I would go and run for ages…"

The subway jolted to a stop. Leo banged into Jason and knocked him off the seat. Percy was already standing. He laughed at the tangle of boys on the floor. "The doors won't wait forever, you know."

He walked off the train, leaving the six others to sort themselves out and hurry after him.

They collapsed in their seats, breathless with laughter, after a long, full day in the city. They had done everything touristy – "but like a New Yorker," as Percy maintained – and were ready to eat dinner.

"The Bow Bridge-"

"When Jason did-"

"I thought I was going to-"

"I know! It's like when-"

"And that statue-"

"And the Observatory!-"

"Oh my-"

"It was awesome, Perce, thanks!"

"Perce?" Percy asked, with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, you know," Leo said, flippantly, "short for Percy. Duh."

"Percy is already short for-" Frank began, but Percy covered the younger boy's mouth with his hand and shouted, "Lalalalalalalalalalalalacan'thearyou!"

"Oh please, Perseus, everyone knows you-" Piper was cut off by Percy's other hand.

"Your name is Perseus?" Leo laughed.

Annabeth regarded him strangely. "You really didn't know?"

"Nope!"

"A'right, Leonardo, shut it."

"Leonardo?" Hazel asked. "Really?"

"No, Percy made it up," Leo told her.

"So what is it?" Jason asked curiously. "Leon, Leonard-"

"Leonidas," Percy broke in. "Leopold."

"Lorenzo," Jason continued. "Leonel."

"Leothos-"

"Leonas-"

"Leander-"

"Leandro-"

"Leroy? Lennard?"

"Liam?"

"Oh! I've got it!" Percy yelled. "Napoleon!"

"Oh, shut it," Leo said, pinking. "And no. Just Leo. Just Leo."

"Okay, Napoleon," Hazel said, smirking. "Oh! Speaking of which-" She got up and hurried towards the kitchens.

"Lemme guess," Percy said, raising his eyebrows. "She made napoleon."

"She is going to be so upset tomorrow…" Annabeth said, frowning. "Modern-day high school. She won't have time for anything."

"Watch me," Hazel said, returning out of breath and plunking a beautiful pastry onto the table. "I'll make time. I told you. Old-fashioned Southern chick, remember? I'll find the time to cook, trust me."

She began dishing out the napoleon.

"O Fleecy, do me a solid. Show me Tyson at Poseidon's forges," Percy said, smirking at the prayer. The mist shimmered to reveal a huge figure standing in the flames, underwater, which was so impossible it made Percy's head spin.

"Tyson!" he called.

The figure spun around.

"Brother!"

The one huge eye blinked at him.

"You look skinny. Eat peanut butter sandwich. You did not die! Where is Annabeth? Is Rainbow okay?" Tyson said, pretty much all in one breath.

Percy laughed. "Gods, I missed you, Tyson."

"Missed you, too, brother! The boss says can visit in October. That is next month!"

"Awesome! Tyson," Percy began, "I have a favor to ask of you."

"For my brother? Yes," Tyson said immediately. "What do you need?"

Percy looked around to make sure no one was near him. "I need a ring for Annabeth."

Tyson looked momentarily confused, then began jumping up and down. The image shook. "Brother is going to marry Annabeth! Yay!"

Percy laughed, then tried to calm him down. "Tyson, look at me. Tyson…" He kept smiling when Tyson refused to settle down. "Ty! Look at me! I have to tell you something."

Tyson stopped jumping, still grinning from ear to ear. "Yes?"

"I don't want you to get your hopes up. I might not be marrying her. First of all, she might say no. And second of all, I'm a little bit sick. So I'm not going to ask her until I'm better. That's why you have to keep it a secret, okay?"

"Swear on River Styx," Tyson said. Thunder rumbled in the background. "Is brother okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Percy reassured him. He didn't want the big guy to worry, and told him so. "Don't worry about me, Tyson. Remember? I don't die."

"Right," Tyson said, reassuringly. "Brother will live."

Percy held up the design he drew. "Do you think this would work?"

Tyson examined the ring. "Hm. Tourmaline or gray diamond?"

"It's a gray tourmaline," Percy said. "I thought a diamond was a bit too cliché, you know?"

Tyson nodded seriously. "Everyone gives diamond. I like this. Gray like Annabeth's eyes. Very simple. She will like this."

Percy blushed. "Thanks, big guy."

Tyson walked over to his tool bench and picked up a piece of thick silver wire. "How big is her finger?"

"She's a size 8," Percy said.

"Hm," Tyson said. He twisted the wire over a metal rod into Percy's design. "Tourmaline goes here." He touched a spot. "Here?"

Percy grinned. "Oh my gods, yes. I have the stone. Should I send it to you now?"

"Yes," Tyson said happily. "Glad to help brother. Have to go back to work, but I will send the ring when I am done. Good luck, brother!"

The Iris Message faded out of existence, and Percy fell backward on to his bed, grinning from ear to ear.

Percy strummed the guitar, beaming to himself. Best. Day. Ever. Not a single person had mentioned anything about the cancer, and he felt exactly like his old self. Not a tinge of pain anywhere. For the first time, Percy allowed himself to hope that this cancer thing might be easier than he had originally thought.

He moved his fingers around, fingerpicking, humming as he did so. He closed his eyes briefly and just enjoyed it. Why couldn't he have discovered this sooner? Music was amazing. He had tried his hand at some of the other instruments in the room, but he mostly just rocked at string instruments. They just made sense.

He opened his eyes and jumped. Apollo was standing there, swaying back and forth on the spot, with his eyes closed. "Apollo?" Percy asked tentatively.

Apollo opened his eyes. "Hey, little cousin," he greeted him. "I love this. You're pretty good, for an amateur who isn't a kid of mine."

"Uhhh… Thanks, I guess?"

Apollo waved his hand. "No prob. Not to be a downer or anything, but I hear you've been hiding something from us Olympians."

Percy glared at him, all camaraderie gone. "Don't you dare breathe a word."

"Actually, that's what I'm here for," Apollo said. "I kinda want to know why you're not telling your dad."

"Not your business," Percy growled, drawing Riptide. "Don't. Say. A word."

"Why not?" Apollo asked, looking unconcerned. "I mean, I can't cure you or anything, as the Fates took away that privilege when I stopped curing people out of spite during the Black Plague, but I might be able to help a bit. So might your dad. Plus, we could put a word in with the Fates for you-"

"What has my father ever done for me?" Percy asked bitterly. "Let me live with Gabe, called me his mistake, and sat up on his high horse and watched as I nearly died a half million times. The least he could have done was help me with that Minotaur when I had no idea what the hell was going on. Don't you dare tell me that it was because you can't get involved with your children's lives, because Zeus interfered at quite the pivotal moment in Thalia's life. So I really don't want to hear it, and you'd better swear on the River Styx that you'll keep quiet, or I'll sever your head. And I'm sure it'll be quite painful, even if it isn't fatal."

"That's a lot of angst you got there, kid. Try writing some poetry. Or better yet, a song. You'd be better at that."

Percy faltered a little bit. "You're not going to make me tell, are you?"

Apollo shrugged. "Nah. I disagree with you, but I think you should be the one to tell Daddy Dearest."

Percy lowered his sword and stabbed it into the ground.

"Really," Apollo said. "Go write some poetry."

Percy nodded and started walking away.

"Wait!" Apollo called after him. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

Percy turned around. "The guitar? No, it stays here."

Apollo made an impatient pfft noise. "No, not the guitar."

Percy narrowed his eyes in thought. "Uh… no?"

"I'm the god of medicine," Apollo said, as if that was obvious.

"And…?" Percy asked. "You can't cure me, so what can you do?"

"I could tell you if your doctor's right about the chemo."

Percy waited.

So did Apollo.

Percy caved first. "Is my doctor right about the chemo?"

"Yeah," Apollo admitted. "It's not gonna work. But she's gonna put you on a new chemo that will have a bit more success, though how much I can't say. Oh, and no matter how much they say they're going to take off part of your arm, the whole thing's coming off. But it's not as painful as you imagine."

"No?" Percy asked, raising an eyebrow skeptically.

"Nope. But think of it this way – you'll be part-cyborg!"

"Great," Percy muttered, rolling his eyes.

"Leo'll like you even more!" Apollo said. "You know how he always complains about you organic life-forms. He'll never be able to say anything about that again!"

"Such a comfort!" Percy scowled, turning to leave again.

"Percy…" Apollo said softly. "That's a true friendship you have there. You couldn't ask for a better friend. You may think I'm immature, but I have millennia of experience. In fact, this true friend of yours – he's outside your cabin. I think he has some news to tell you."

Apollo glowed briefly and vanished before Percy could say a word.

Leo sat bouncing on Percy's bed, to excited to contain himself.

"Okay, I know you saw the diagram for the arm, but-"

Percy cut him off. "How did you know?"

"You don't think I booby-trap any important documents? If I hadn't put in the password, your whole body would be bright purple by tomorrow morning." Leo waved a hand impatiently, in a can you believe this guy? gesture.

Percy grinned. "Sorry, go on."

"Anyway, I finished it."

Percy blinked at him. "You did?"

"Yeah! This thing is the real thing. Look!" He drew the metal arm out from behind him and handed it to Percy, who turned it over in his hands as Leo continued speaking.

"The only thing I'm worried about is infection. If you get infected after the amputation, we're gonna have a problem. It's permanent, which is kinda new in the field of robot arms. I mean, the doctors'll be able to treat it the way they'd treat a regular infection, but it'll hurt more. And-"

"I'm no stranger to pain," Percy interrupted.

"Didn't think you were, bro. As I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted by Captain Obvious, since this stuff is so new, I don't really know, like, what kinda PT you'll need and medical stuff like that." Leo waved his hand again. "I really can't be bothered by you organic life-forms, though. Always breaking and getting diseases and dying. Trust me, this arm ain't getting' cancer. The most it's gonna get is rust, which isn't gonna happen anyhoo, 'cause I made it waterproof. So you're covered."

"Literally," Percy said, referring to the glove.

"Ah, yes, zee glove," Leo said in what he thought was a French accent. "I know zhat you tried eet on but really you need to see it on the robot arm. Eet's a sight to be seen."

"Your French accent sucks," Percy said, as Leo tossed him the glove, He caught it with his left hand. As he slipped it on, Leo raised an eyebrow.

"You're getting pretty good with that left hand, bro."

"I'd have to, wouldn't I?" Percy returned. He held the robot hand up to his own to compare. It was scarily accurate.

"Jeez, you could be a plastic surgeon."

Leo shuddered. "Cutting into people? No thanks."

Percy rolled his eyes at him.

"Plus, can you imagine me with a scalpel?" Leo added.

"Good point," Percy laughed. He handed the arm back to Leo.

"I don't think I can thank you-"

"Shut it."

Percy laughed again.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it, bro."

"Stop calling me bro."

"No prob, bro."

School began again, but chemo did not. Percy called Dr. Semmel and cancelled all appointments until after the amputation. He really didn't need to be dealing with useless chemotherapy on top of everything else.

Everyone was happy with the new school year, except for Annabeth, who had tired quickly of her school uniform. By day three, she would sit at the table complaining and sweating in a French blue Oxford shirt while everyone else wore sleeveless tees. In a quite funny fit of "heatstroke", she took her shirt off at the table and flung it into the lake. She was wearing a tank underneath, but still. Percy had to get the shirt for her later.

The school quickly became adjusted to seeing Percy with a crowd of friends. He had always been the loner, but with his newfound popularity, he became quite sought after with the girls. None of them believed that he really did have a girlfriend.

Jason tried out for basketball, but after not making the team, went after debate club instead, where he argued the pants off of every competitor he met.

The coach of the basketball team actually got down on one knee in front of Piper and begged her to become captain of the previously all-boys basketball team. She laughingly accepted.

Frank didn't want to try out for football, but the coach took one look at his muscular form in his first PE class and asked quite nicely for a tryout. Needless to say, Frank was amazing, and the newcomer became the all-star linebacker for the Goode High team.

Hazel, the freshman, kept mostly to herself, but somehow became the most beloved girl in the school after everyone tasted her cookies at the first fund-raiser. After talking to her once, girls fell in love with her soft-spoken, sincere manner, and all boys adopted her as their little sister to protect. She didn't need it, of course, but pretended like she didn't know the difference between a spear and a spatha.

Leo became the hero of the robotics and Spanish clubs. He was the only one who could get away with joking around in the Señora's class, and his robots ran circles around all of the others'. Literally.

Percy joined the swim team, where he was asked to be captain after about forty-five seconds. He somehow managed to beat everyone's times by quite a bit while still wearing a long-sleeved T-shirt. The rumors went flying around the school – he was deformed, he had scars from cutting, he had the shriveled-up fetus of a Siamese twin attached to his hip – but they disappeared when Percy became the hero of the school after "saving" Hazel from falling into the pool. He was the one that originally pushed her in, but people will see what people want to see.

Annabeth consoled herself by becoming the over-achiever in her school, heading the yearbook and joining her own debate club, the history and current events societies, and an art club, where she drew intricate buildings all day.

Although she didn't know it, Annabeth was the talk of Goode High, being Jackson's mystery girl and all that. Someone had seen a rather tattered picture in Percy's binder of a blonde girl with an I'll-kill-you-later stare to send someone six feet under. Soon, rumors were flying around the school that Percy's girlfriend was six feet tall, was born in France to a German father and a Russian mother, had blond hair reaching the back of her knees, and could play basketball in high heels. And those were the people that believed that Percy had a girlfriend. Everyone else thought he had downloaded the picture off the Internet. Somehow, this information never reached Percy. Wisely, this information was kept from Annabeth.

It became a new tradition that Percy would go home with Paul on Tuesdays, coming back to school with him on Wednesday. Of course, there was speculation about this as well, but it was all quite ridiculous and no one believed a word of what they were saying, anyway.

Percy walked in to his mother's apartment with the spring in the step of someone who knows that he is going to have a very enjoyable twenty-four hours. "Hi, Mom!" he said, entering the tiny kitchen, ducking to avoid hitting his head on the doorframe.

Sally put the plate of blue cookies on the counter. "Percy!" She hugged him, which was like getting hugged by a woman with a beach ball attached to her midsection – oh, wait.

Paul entered behind him. "I have papers from that class again," he groaned. Despite this being the beginning of the year, Paul had already picked his least favorite class – one that he had had last year. The classes were tracked, so they stayed pretty consistent throughout the years. Because Paul taught both freshman and sophomore English, he knew all of his sophomores.

Sally and Percy both laughed, sharing a look. As Paul set up the papers on the table and put on his glasses, Percy snuck behind him and hid a video camera on top of the fridge, out of view.

Sally and Percy sat at the other end of the table, talking quietly about the baby's nursery, swim team, treatment, and how good the cookies were, all the while sneaking glances at Paul as he muttered things like, "You can't just make this stuff up!" and "The Old Man and the Sea was not a comedy, you idiot!" while making corrections in red pen.

Admittedly, Percy hadn't told his mother about all of his problems, but instead lightened it up the way he always did about his quests. He told her about the nurses, the grumpy ones and the nice ones; about the chemo being cancelled in favor for a new one, which hadn't exactly happened yet; and about the "minor" surgery coming up. He assured her that he had enough money (though he didn't) and told her about Leo's prosthesis. He let her do her fair share of mothering, and changed the subject to something more interesting: Annabeth and the ring.

"Hazel thinks I should wait until I have a bit more certainty about my life to propose," he confided. "I think I'm gonna wait until after surgery, unless I chicken out, which is totally likely."

Sally squealed. "Okay, okay, sorry. Why would you chicken out?"

Percy blushed. "What if she says no?"

"What if your grandmother had wheels?"

"You're dating yourself with that one."

Sally looked confused. "Huh?"

"She better not be dating anyone," Paul mumbled absently, tugging on his beard as he glowered at the mile-high stack of paper in front of him.

"I mean, you're letting people know that you're not from this century," Percy explained.

Sally nodded in understanding.

"It's like talking to Hazel," Percy mock-complained. "You have to explain every single piece of slang to the girl."

"Saw-ree," Sally drawled, letting Percy know exactly how serious she was – which is to say, not. "How is she holding up? I mean, being from the wrong century and all that."

"It's really, really funny," Percy said. "We taught her how to use the Internet and Leo's adopted her as his apprentice."

"Oh, no," Sally said, laughing.

Mother and son remained talking happily, reminiscing and waxing nostalgic well into the night.

Percy was lying in bed suffering from a burdened conscience.

Percy lied to his prospective employer.

He lied.

His conscience was killing him.

But seriously, what was he supposed to do? No money, no income, no cancer treatment, no life, no marrying Annabeth, right?

So he sent in a resume to the Coffee Shoppe down the road from Camp and applied for the graveyard shift.

Are you eighteen?

Oh, yeah, sure.

Right.

But Percy now had a job, working a four hour shift starting at one in the morning. He was selling coffee and muffins to Long Island college students, most of whom weren't much older than he was.

And he'd be able to afford the surgery.

Fifty-six thousand freaking dollars for the surgery alone. The organization was paying forty-five percent, which helped, but not enough. More than nine thousand dollars for the five-day hospital stay. Two hundred dollars per physical therapy visit. Maybe he'd skip the PT.

Grand total, if he didn't do physical therapy?

Thirty-four thousand, two hundred dollars.

(He'd worked that out with his abundant free time (Read: History class, where they were doing the Ancient Greeks. Again.))

Nine dollars an hour for his job.

Okay, now he needed a paper. And a calculator. He got out of bed and went to the desk in the corner of the room.

Nine dollars an hour… Six days a week… Two hundred and sixteen dollars a week… So eight sixty-four a month.

Not even close.

At this rate, he'd be done paying it off… over three years from now.

Crap.

Okay. Don't panic.

Here's hoping he could live at Camp Half-Blood until then.

Three years… and that didn't include anything else. Food, clothing, other medicines… He wouldn't be able to afford college, that was for sure.

What else could he do? Start a blog, do online surveys? Tutor people in History? Give swimming lessons?

He'd ask Dr. Semmel what she'd recommend. There'd got to be something he could do. It was unfathomable that everyone was able to pay for cancer treatment but him.

There was no way he was sleeping tonight.

I wanted this to be about 8,000 words. But my brain is fried. I'm on my ninth cup of tea… Never mind, my tenth…

It's the longest I've ever written, though, so I deserve reviews, right?

Guest Reviews:

Maia Jackson – I'm glad you like it! And Thalia's coming. PROMISE.

YourFavGuest (Review I) – Percy is, like, the epitome of epic boyfriendness. He's perfect. And yes, Leo definitely got what he deserved. ;) THANK YOU!

Johnny Bob – I DID!

Lily (Review I) – Good point. I'll make sure to include that later. Thanks!

Guest – You asked, I delivered. Percy proposal… soon, maybe, if I'm feeling nice. MWAHAHAHAHAHA!

Stephanie – Thank you!

You're Nuts – Awww, thanks! You're so sweet!

AllCanadianGirl – Done!

YourFavGuest (Review II) – I tried, and you make mine.

Lily (Review II) – I'm alive… I'M POSTING NOW‼! Can I just say that this review made me crack up? The night you wrote this review, I sat on my bed and wrote a thousand words while I drank a single cup of peach tea while it went from burning-your-tongue hot to will-give-you-frostbite-and-freeze-your-nose-off-if-you-actually-drink-this cold. I've progressed. My story is now over four thousand words longer and I'm on my tenth cup of (lukewarm) tea. Raspberry.

Guest – Emotionally invested? Drop off the face of the earth? Moi? Never. Thank you. I love you.

Lily (Review III) – I'm glad you liked the first chapter! Sir Curfew may make a surprise recurrence. I love him so, so, so much.

Lily (Review IV) – I copied these quotes. They're going up on my wall. I came home after a day in the city to this review and cracked up; then sat on my bed again and wrote the Percy-in-the-city scene (that ended up going first).

Lily (Review V) – This one, too!

Lily (Review VI) – You made me feel so guilty that I wrote another thousand words.

Lily (Review VII) – I love you.

Lily (Review VIII) – You don't really have the facts right… Yes, no, no, no, and yes. So you're forty percent correct.

Lily (Review IX) – My favorite quote so far! (I'm taking it as a compliment, so thanks! )

Lily (Review X) – This Shakespeare quote is really, really good. Seriously, how much time did you invest into finding writer's block quotes for me?

Lily (Review XI) – Love the Twyla Tharp one. Seriously. You're insane. See above.

Lily (Review XII) – Really! This was so amazing! And totally insane, how true they are.

Lily (Review XIII) – The URL got deleted. FanFiction doesn't allow external links. (Remember Franks messed-up email address a few chapters ago?)

Lily (Review XIV) – I'm not entirely sure what these had to do with writing, but they're awesome, all the same. And thank you. Fourteen reviews… You're incredible and I dedicate this chapter to you.

Review, please, everyone!