Hello! First of all if you're reading this, thank you! That means I'm not as weird as I think and other people actually read authors notes! So, so, sorry not updating! I've just had a sort of creativity block lately. I haven't written, or knit, or sewed or anything. Sucky excuse, but it's true. And thanks to my good friend, whose name shall remain un disclosed for helping me out of this funk. At least as far a writing goes, she actually sat with me and made a list of plot points, and helped me type. She also my editor, so this chapter is dedicated to you. She-who-shall-not-be-named, knows who she is so, yeah. NOW... ON WITH THE SHOW!

Thalia

Honestly, I wasn't sure what to expect as we pulled up in front of Annabeth's dad's house in Lower Pacific Heights. Last time I was here, Mr. Chase answered the door wearing an aviator's helmet and goggles, asking if we were delivering his something-or-other camels. I'm pretty sure he wasn't normally like that; I mean, he had to leave the house sometime. Right? And he did have guests.

It actually wasn't Mr. Chase who opened the door, but an old, grey-haired woman who promptly slammed the door in our faces.

"Well then," I huffed, annoyed, and a little taken aback. Annabeth was supposed to be on better terms with her family than this. I shot a glance at Annabeth over my shoulder, raising my eyebrow in question.

Sorry, she mouthed, wincing. I turned back around. I wasn't going to let my friends freeze on the porch, especially when it was Annabeth's family inside, catching up in front of a warm fire.

I raised my hand, prepared to furiously pound on the door again, when the door suddenly opened of its own accord. Off-balanced, I stumbled into the house, nearly crushing the poor kid in the process.

"Whoa! Sorry, kiddo!" I yelped as I regained my balance. The poor little kid took one look at us and fled deeper into the house.

"Rebecca! Wait! These are just my new friends!" Annabeth shouted after her, but she made no move to venture further into the house.

"Annabeth!" We turned around to see Annabeth's father walking towards us out of the kitchen with a big smile on his face.

"Hi Dad," she said, making an effort to be quiet; why, I wasn't sure.

"You do realize they know you're here," said Mr. Chase to Annabeth," you just shouted to Rebecca, and I think two years is enough time for them to adjust to the fact that you're a demigod."

"Well, Paul's family still freaks out every time he mentions me, and they found out at the wedding," Percy interjected, defending Annabeth.

"Ah, Percy! Good to see you!" Mr. Chase said jovially, clapping him on the back.

"And, Thalia, too!" he said, turning to me, continuing to grin widely. "You'll be sharing a room with Annabeth, And, Percy, you'll be sharing with the twins."

"Ah," said Percy, "fun times."

Dinner was an awkward affair. The family made small talk among themselves, almost deliberately ignoring us. We were about halfway through the meal before anyone talked to us. It was one of Annabeth's aunts, a wiry string-bean of a woman with a face constantly set into an unpleasant grimace, which reminded me of the time Nico ate a Warhead.

"So, how old are you, dears?" she questioned me and Percy, leaning forward as if to catch a juicy bit of gossip. "If you don't mind my saying so, you look a bit young to be friends with Annabeth, Thalia."

"I'm seventeen, same age as Annabeth," Percy said through a mouthful of food. She looked mildly disgusted at this.

"Well, I don't really know," I said, shrugging.

"How does that happen?" another distant relative asked, concerned.

"Well, technically I should be twenty two, but I was kinda turned into a tree when I was twelve for about six years. Trees don't exactly age as fast as humans do, so when I was changed back-"

"Yeah, I went on a quest to find the Golden Fleece, which un-treeified her when I was twelve," Percy interjected.

"Shut up, Percy! As I was saying, when I was 'un-treeified' I still looked twelve, but the Greek god Apollo said I was actually supposed to be about fifteen then. Of course, that was before I joined the Hunters of Artemis, and they also don't age. We aren't quite immortal, because we can still die in battle, but we won't ever get older unless we leave. That was maybe five years ago, to escape a prophecy that was actually about Percy here. So, all in all, I could be twenty two, I could be sixteen, I could be twelve, nobody really knows."

After that lovely gem, the room fell dead silent, and the sound of clinking knives and forks filled the air awkwardly.

This was going to be a long weekend.