Chapter 12

Percy.

When I first came to the hospital, Chiron told me that schizophrenia wasn't only hallucination. I wasn't diagnosed just because I could see Grover, and no one else could. He gave me a list of symptoms, and told me that was what we were going to work on.

Work on. As if I needed to be fixed.

I always thought I was normal in high school. I thought I was the only normal one amidst the image-obsessed girls, socially awkward nerds, extremely introverted goths, bulked up jocks - circus show, that was high school. I thought I was the one person that understood reality. And Grover was just a little 'quirk' to guide me through it.

I start laughing really hard just thinking about it - about how I was the one who was really crazy in the end. Those high school freaks are allowed into the world - and I'm holed up in here.

Annabeth.

I craved socialization like I never knew I would. Usually, at home, I wouldn't make the effort to be likeable or friendly in school. I would go to school, take notes, eat, take notes, go home, do homework (or, closer to my visit, give up on doing homework), eat, sleep, repeat. This resulted in the issue of not being really close to anyone. There was my biological brother, Malcolm, but he went off to university, so I was left alone and unhappy.

Now though, I'm left unsatisfied with amusing myself with my thoughts and actually care enough to get out of bed in the morning.

This residential hospital isn't like regular ones. They don't plan your day for you from start to finish. You have a lot of free time. The hospital does plan many activities - arts and craft, music club, even studying - but none of them are mandatory except a daily group therapy session and weekly singular therapy one.

I usually stay in my room the whole day, or read in the recreation room. Reading is something I do a lot - not because it makes me happy, or makes me feel anything - but because it distracts me from everything. Even my thoughts. It's easy to pretend you don't have depression if you're constantly distracted by something. I guess that's why the hospital gives us so much free time - so we come to terms with ourselves.

It's laughable to think about a group of teenagers 'coming to terms' with ourselves.

I tried to read, honestly. I picked the book up and put it down several times before throwing it across the room. It wasn't doing it's job right. This is when I thought about companionship. I thought about hanging out with someone.

So I went to find Percy.

…

When I knocked on his door, he gave me an unusually bright smile. Instead of asking what I was doing there, in his room, unannounced, he only dragged me towards the rec room. I let him pull me. I let myself smile slightly by his energy.

Percy.

Today is a bad day. There were bugs in my head. Well, not bugs exactly. Mosquitos. And not in my head specifically, in my brain. I could feel them flying around, and I could hear their buzzing. Chiron would say they weren't real - he would ask me logical questions like, "How did they get in there?" and "what are they doing?" those were questions I was incapable of asking myself.

But at that moment they were real and alive and inside me. Buzzing so loudly that I almost didn't hear the knock on my door. Almost.

At first I thought it was a nurse or Chiron, coming to ask me about breakfast I skipped, again. This thought made the buzzing in my head even worse. Not bugs anymore, but voices.

When I saw Annabeth there, willingly, I made sure she couldn't see today was a bad day. So instead, I took her to the rec room, where her and I are getting more accustomed to hanging out in.

…

Annabeth.

"You got dressed." Was the first thing Percy said to me as we sat down on the couches, across from each other, in the pale white room.

"Yeah, like every normal human being..." I replied. But I could see what he meant. I hadn't just thrown on a pair of sweats, or a baggy t-shirt over leggings. I had put together an outfit. I had tried.

"You're not very normal, though." Percy stated, bluntly. I frown at him, not sure whether to be insulted. "None of us are normal. Why are we here?" He gestured around him - pretending not to notice my expression.

"Well...being normal is the goal, isn't it?"

"Being socially acceptable is the goal, not normality." Percy stated, as if he'd thought of it before. "Not one person is really normal."

I didn't argue with him, because I felt that he truly believed that. I knew for a fact that staying quiet in public didn't get you out of this hospital.

Instead I just smiled at him.

Immediately he took out his sketchbook and started drawing. He beckoned me towards him to come watch. I did. In a few strokes I saw that he was drawing me, again. When he was finished, I saw that I was smiling.

"An Annabeth Chase smile is once in a lifetime." Percy teased, his voice becoming very British and very National Geographic. "When you see one, you must immortalize it somehow."

"I do smile." I say, because I make sure I smile. It's one of those social cues the hospital teaches you.

"Let me clarify - I mean a real smile - to another person. Sometimes you smirk, sometimes you smile to yourself. Sometimes you do this thing where you smile but it doesn't really reach your eyes. What you did right now - that wasn't any of that. That was a real Annabeth Chase smile." I don't know how to respond to that, so I don't. I like what he said, it made me appreciate Percy, because he gets it. He got whatever IT was.

I smiled at him, a giant grin, and his drawing became more intense as he rushed to immortalize me, talking between his chaotic, but controlled, strokes.

"Your smiles are so special, someone could write a song about them." He amends, his eyes glued onto his paper. "Hell, if I wasn't so tone deaf, I honestly would write a song about them."

"You couldn't only write a song about my smile."

"Okay fine, I'd write a song about you, and everything you do."

"Will it be called Yellow?" I ask, jokingly. Since when do I joke?

He looks up at his artwork momentarily, confused. "I don't get it." I wave him off.

"Can I have the picture?" I allow myself to speak after a few minutes of silence - when I knew he was done.

"Oh well...I don't really give people my pictures." Was Percy's quiet response. The regret in his tone made me feel bad for asking. "I'll show it to you when I'm finished." He was giving me one of his off-kilter grins.

"It's not finished yet?"

"You have to add colour and stuff." He replied.

"Why?"

"Because that's what makes it alive." To him, it was a fact. "I have to get the colours from the art room."

"So, let's go to the art room." I suggested, readily.

His smile becomes a little less maniacal, and a little more sarcastic. "Look at you, Annabeth, all spontaneous." He raises an eyebrow at me.

"You're making me smile too much right now," is my reply, "I'm going to run out of smiles, and it'll be all your fault."

"So smiles are a physical thing? And you can run out of them?"

"For me, yeah. If I smile too much, I'll get tired, and it'll turn into a grimace. One of the special things about me."

"That's alright with me. Your grimace's are as beautiful as your smiles." I'm startled, and Percy gives me a cocky grin, as if glad that he's surprised me.

I catch myself quickly. Showing emotion, Annabeth. Rookie move. I give him a huge exaggerated scowl. "Like that? Do you like that, Percy?"

He licks his lips seductively, which sends me into hysterics, which sends him into hysterics. When we calm down he looks almost lost, as if something had occurred to him.

"Annabeth Chase," He says to me. "We are teenagers." As if it were a life changing thought.

I understand his sentiment though. Us talking like this, it's almost normal. Like we're best friends chatting in a bedroom after school. "Almost normal." I whisper.

"Almost normal." He responds, quietly.

If this were a romance book. This is the point where I would lean my head on his shoulder and smile, and be content. And we would both be happy and cured of our ailments. And maybe, we would even kiss.

Percy.

If this were a romantic comedy, we would lean in to each other, and kiss awkwardly, and laugh about our kiss, then kiss again. I would wind my hand into hers and she'd lean her head on my shoulders and then we would sleep or some shit like that.

Instead, the door burst open, and we both jumped, as if caught in an act. It was Travis Stoll, holding car keys.

More specifically, Luke's car keys.

"You can drive, right?"

IMPORTANT READ THIS PART PLS: I'm gonna change the name of this story to ALMOST NORMAL kay? So don't be confused if it comes up in your email.

ALSO THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU FOR OVER 100 FOLLOWERS!

I'm so sorry for not updating throughout the summer guys so I'm going to give you a list of excuses as to why:

1. Writers Block

2. My birthday - June 12

3. Tumblr (more likely known as procrastination) (follow me tho: my usernames are suphisticated and west-africanprincess)

4. We went to Nigeria for a month in July and internet was limited

5. Writer's block

6. Freaking out about high school

7. Writer's Block

Also, did you guys get the "Yellow" reference? First one to tell me in reviews gets like...umm...idk...a synopsis of the next chapter. Because I have the idea but I haven't written it yet. Also starting school soon so if it's not out in two weeks don't wait up.