Hello all! Welcome back! So the verdict is in and I am going to try and make a full-blown story out of this (wish me luck).

Honestly, I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter, but here it is. I will try to make it better, I already have at least part of a future chapter written that I like a lot more than this one (no, I will not tell you what it is).

michelyt098 - Your comment made me genuinely smile. I'm glad that you want more and let me assure you, your comment is the only reason there even is a chapter 2 of this story. Welcome back, I hope you enjoy this story and any others you may have found during your return to the site.

WARNING: This chapter contains possible triggering content. It discusses depression, self-harm, and abuse. If any of these are or could be triggering for you please skip it.

This story as a whole will discuss some dark things and explore how some people choose to deal with them. If this might bother or trigger you please skip the story altogether.

Thank you all for reading, I encourage reviews, so please leave one! Hope you enjoy!

I sat at the bar munching on an apple as I did my homework. My legs swung back and forth underneath me inches above the cold, smooth marble flooring. Late afternoon/early evening sunlight shone through the large floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room. The New York City skyline a perfect background to my afternoon study session.

Cold granite countertops glistened to perfection in the afternoon sunlight. Stainless steel appliances sparkled as though they had never been used (they hardly ever were). Cold black leather furniture was meticulously placed throughout the living room, dining room, and study so as to maximize productivity and scream a minimalistic lifestyle. The dead silence of the cold penthouse apartment only finalized the stiff empty feel of the so-called "home".

It had been five years since I fell into the Hudson River. Since then my life hasn't changed much, just small simple things here and there.

My mom got a promotion at work (yay) and moved us to an even larger and colder apartment (yay…cue eye roll). I'll admit, I didn't think it was possible for the coldest woman in New York City to find/create an even larger and colder apartment, but apparently, she could because she did.

Anyway…

I have a job now, it's nothing major, just a little part-time job at this hole-in-the-wall bookstore a few blocks away. I go there every afternoon after school and every Saturday. It helps keep me out of the apartment so I don't feel the gaping emptiness left by my parents.

My friends still take turns walking me home even though I have a phone now. Well, they walk me to my job and then to my apartment afterward, where they hang out until they have to go home, usually about an hour after we return to my apartment.

So basically my friends are now with me ALL the time, but I'm not complaining. Since they've become more involved in my life I've become less lonely. I don't have much time to cut myself anymore, and I eat more often (please refer to sentence one: the apple I'm currently munching on).

But even with all of the extra attention, I still have bad days. Days when I don't want to get out of bed, when food tastes like dust and is physically impossible to swallow. Days when I pull out that little razor I keep in a shoe box hidden in the back of my closet for one of my "extra long showers". Days when I still feel like a burden. Days when that little voice in the back of my head becomes a screaming banshee and is all I can hear. Days, when the only thing that can make me feel better is a pair of sea-green eyes, the perfect smile, and the worn, ratty shirt, is all I wear.

It's been five years and still, all I have of him is a shirt.

Believe me, I've tried looking for him, but to no avail. And I'm not the only one. Piper and Hazel have been looking for him too. Though, they're a little more…..abrupt in their methods. They've gone up to every green-eyed, black-haired male even near our age that they've seen in the last five years and grilled them to the bone to see if that boy is the one who saved me. And I mean Every. Single. One. It doesn't matter where we are, the street, the movies, at school…Hazel even went up to a few at her church a couple of times. Even Callie, Leo's girlfriend and the newest addition to our group has started helping them by joining in.

The guys help too, though they tend to be more subtle. They'll casually wander up to a boy matching said description and start up a conversation with them before somehow finding a way to walk the boy by me with a questioning look on their face. Which is when I'll, turning beet red by the way, shake my head "no" and they'll politely finish their conversation and walk away.

I swear, if they don't stop soon I'll die of embarrassment before I get a chance to die of anything else.

But I digress.

The only other change in my life really has been my dad.

After the "incident," my mom called him screaming at him about leaving me there alone and how his carelessness nearly cost me my life. After that, she got court orders that whenever he had me for a weekend or something he had to physically drop me off at my apartment. If he doesn't then he can be arrested for negligence.

After that, he called me and told me that he couldn't do it anymore. He told me that dealing with my mom was too much of a hassle and that I was an adult now and that I could deal with him directly. He didn't want to fly back and forth anymore just to see me. He said that if I wanted to see him then I could come to visit them in San Francisco, but he wasn't really genuine, I know that he doesn't really want to see me.

I didn't mind though. Really, I don't care. Clearly, he doesn't have a very high opinion of me if he's willing to drop me off in the city alone and then never see me again.

Anyway….

I glanced at the clock on the stainless steel oven. The digital green numbers read 5:30 pm. I had half an hour before my mom was supposed to be home, with emphasis on supposed to be.

I looked back over my work and sighed. I still had a lot to do in order to be ready for tomorrow. It was the first official day back to school, but I had already spent the past two weeks back going to meetings for the student government, debate team, student ambassadors, and DI. Plus I already had homework for all of my AP classes (which was all of them by the way). Not to mention I had a ton of early applications for colleges that I still had to complete and turn in.

I took a deep breath and stretched, leaning back in my chair so that my back would pop. I then rubbed my eyes so that they would stop aching from staring at a screen all day long. I then got up and went into the kitchen to see what we had for dinner.

Surprise, surprise….we had nothing. Neither my mom nor I cooked. That was my dad's department when he did live with us. Briefly. A hundred years ago. Anywho….

I looked at the notepad that hung on the fridge to see if there was anything specific that my mom wanted. Nope. Nothing but a blank piece of paper stared back at me.

I sighed again and went onto my laptop.

Looking up a small Italian restaurant that both my mom and I liked I ordered takeout for both of us. I ordered chicken and shrimp pasta, red and white sauces, two salads, and extra bread sticks. Charging it to my mom's card I went back to work while I waited for it to be delivered.

7:30 rolled around before my mom hit the door to our apartment. The food had long since arrived and grown cold (I waited to eat with her). I was almost finished with all of my assignments that were due tomorrow and had completed yet another early application for another prestigious college.

I jumped when I heard the keys in the door.

I turned at the sound of heels clicking and clacking against the marble floor. My mom, Athena Chase, closed the apartment door behind her. Standing there in her gray pantsuit, pointed and professional stiletto heels, dirty blonde hair in a slick and tight bun, carrying a black leather briefcase, and staring at her phone she was the epitome of professional. If the term "perfect professional" had a mascot or poster girl, Athena Chase would be it.

"Hi, Mom." I greeted.

"Mmmm….." She didn't even look up. She placed her keys in the bowl on the hall table next to the door, then went into her office. A few minutes later she came out (still on her phone) and went upstairs.

I went about warming up dinner, knowing that she preferred fresh hot food to cold and old food. I set the table for two, got out plates and everything, and grabbed us both drinks, me a sparkling water, and her red wine.

I had just finished dishing out the food onto the plates, fresh and piping hot from the microwave, when she came downstairs.

Now she was wearing a gray formfitting dress, and black stilettos that were less professional, her hair was down but pulled back from her face, and her makeup was done. She was carrying a purse.

"I'm going out. I don't know what time I'll be back, but it'll be late." She stated without looking up from her phone.

My face fell. I hadn't realized how excited I was about sharing a meal with my mom until the smile I hadn't realized I was wearing fell. My eyes stung with unshed tears but I held them back. Crying would only get me in trouble.

"But…..I ordered dinner….."

My mom looked up from her phone and looked down at her nose at me. She examined me, then the table as though she were calculating the measurements for one of her building designs. She sighed and closed her eyes, looking tired.

"Annabeth, I made these plans weeks ago. I told you about them. You cannot expect me to just cancel now just to have dinner with you."

White-hot anger formed in my chest, but I managed to keep it under control. Barely.

"No, you didn't tell me…" My voice trailed off weakly as she pierced me with a disapproving frown.

"Annabeth Nicole Chase. I did tell you. Just because you feel it prudent to not listen to me when I speak or just because you forgot does not mean that I didn't tell you. I am not such a horrible human being or mother that I wouldn't tell you if I had plans. But, if you really can't eat one meal all by yourself like an adult, then I suppose I could cancel my plans, though it would be awfully rude at such last minute….." Mom tapped her chin as though thinking through a difficult dilemma.

I gritted my teeth and clenched my fists in anger. I know that she didn't tell me about any plans for tonight. I would have remembered. Wouldn't I?

"No. It's fine. Go to dinner." I managed through my clenched teeth.

She raised a brow at me but merely said that she would be late and not to wait up and bid me goodnight. The door closing sounded like a tomb being sealed. The empty silence of the apartment echoed the hollow-sounding noise in agreement.

Only when I knew she was gone did I allow myself to cry.

The next day I woke up early. I showered, dressed, and packed my backpack for school. I checked the bandages on my wrists to make sure they were secure and then made sure my school uniform jacket covered them. The school was always freezing so it wouldn't raise any questions that I was wearing the jacket in late August.

I went downstairs and packed a lunchbox, though I knew that I wouldn't eat any of the food in it, not after last night's binge eating session. I was just packing it for Piper's sake. If she saw that I had a lunchbox then she would assume that I was going to eat at some point. Everyone else might ask questions if they didn't see me eat anything but I could just say that I wasn't hungry and that I would eat what I packed later. No one actually checked my lunchbox.

There was a note taped to the fridge. It was from my mom, some excuse about her behavior last night, and reminding me to finish all of my college applications by the end of the week. It also said something about our cleaning lady, Archane, being out this week but she would be back by next Tuesday. I crumpled up the note and threw it away.

I was not in the mood.

I gathered my things and left, locking the apartment behind me. I made my way through the bustling streets of New York to my school, dodging early morning commuters, graveyard shift workers who were just trying to make it home, tourists who were trying to beat the heat of the day, and street vendors who were trying to make a profit off of all of the above.

I managed to make it to school an hour before the first period. There was already a large crowd of students making their way inside as well as several students who were standing out front just talking. There were also several students and teachers who were still arriving.

Now, most people would be curious. What kind of teenagers go to school an hour earlier than they have? I'm sure at your school people scrape in by the skin of their teeth, getting there in just enough time to say hi to friends, grab their stuff and make it to homeroom on time. Well, let me assure you, at my school this is the late crowd.

You see, my school is an ultra-private, ultra-exclusive, prep-school. Every student here is an academic genius. They love school, no, they thrive in it. Academia is their middle name. If they didn't get in because of their wealthy and famous parents, then they got in by being scouted and were offered a scholarship. Yeah, I know, prestigious as hell. Pretentious too.

I walked up to a group of six teenagers standing by the front steps of the school. They were an odd group, most people wouldn't look at them and go "Oh yeah, I can totally see it!".

First off we had the boys. There was a tall, well-built blue-eyed blonde who had tan skin, charming smile, and red-rimmed glasses. He looked like your average everyday prep-school kid, ready for another day of learning and swearing with a very enthusiastic "gosh-darn it!" when he got frustrated that he got a 99 on his math test instead of a hundred. Next to him was an even taller and sturdier Chinese football player with dark hair and eyes, a shy smile, and turned beet red at even the suggestion of anything improper. Then there was a short, skinny, scrawny elf-looking Latino boy who had dark curly hair, dark eyes, and a mischievous evil smile that made everyone else nervous.

Standing interspersed between them were the girls. There was a short, tan, Native American girl with chocolate brown hair, kaleidoscope eyes, and an athletic build. She was an overexcited, constantly positive person who loved bad plays, and music and hated attention. Then there was an even shorter, slim African American girl with amber eyes, dark, curly long hair, and a hopeful smile. She was shy and quiet around newer people, but she was a gentle and caring person with a heart of gold. Finally, there was a Greek goddess-looking girl, who was short, and thin, had curves in all the right places, bronze skin, caramel-colored hair, and chocolate-brown eyes. She was kind and generous but was a spitfire if you made her mad, which her boyfriend did often.

They all wore the school uniform, the boys were in navy blue slacks, white dress shirts, red ties, and jackets with the school's emblem on the left lapel in red and gold. The girls were in navy blue skirts of varying lengths (they had to be fingertip length), white blouses, red ties, jackets with the school emblem on the left lapel in red and gold, white knee socks, tights, or stockings, and black shoes. The boys wore black dress shoes as well.

Yes, yes. Go ahead and laugh. The uniforms were not flattering. For anyone.

"Annabeth!" Piper, waved me over, grinning excitedly and practically jumping up and down.

"Hey." I smiled at my mismatched group of friends, genuinely looking forward to another school year with these weirdos.

"So, we were talking and what do you think about spending the weekend at my Dad's beach house out in the Hamptons? You know, as a "yay, we're back at school!" kind of thing?" Piper asked excitedly.

"I don't think many people would think "yay, we're back to school" Pipes." Her boyfriend, Jason Grace the all-American golden boy, said.

"Oh, whatever. It's just an excuse to party. Annabeth knows that. So, what do you think?" Piper turned pleading eyes to me.

"Well, I'm supposed to work in the bookstore this weekend…." I thought out loud.

"Oh just tell Sally that you need this weekend off! I'm sure she'll understand! I mean seriously, she's like the most perfect person on the planet."

"Plus, she has been telling you to take some time off and have some fun lately," Hazel added helpfully.

"Well…" I started to smile, then I remember the one other person in my life who had some sort of control over it and me. My smile vanished as quickly as it appeared.

"What? What is it?" Piper prodded, always quick to jump on my mood changes.

"I don't know if my mom would let me go, not after last night…." I thought out loud.

"Another fight?" Hazel ventured sympathetically. She had mom issues too.

"Yeah," I confirmed quietly.

"Oh, well, if we need to plan for another weekend we can," Piper said her excitement subdued.

I looked at all of my friend's sympathetic and disappointed faces. They were looking forward to this trip but were willing to reschedule it just for me. That was more than I could say for my mom.

"You know what? Fuck it. We're going. My mom will just have to deal." I declared loudly. So loudly that I got a disapproving look from a passing teacher, but I didn't care. I was spending the weekend away from my overbearing mom with my friends.

"We're going to the Hamptons."

Everyone cheered.