•Chapter 9•
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Sorry for the late update again. I've been writing ahead, but I've reached a road block, so … yeah. Sucks :( I'll try to update again next week, though :) Also, I had trouble updating because Fanfiction couldn't read my file properly or something. I don't know. It's fixed now, though :)
Happy reading!
2010
"So, homework is on page 475 and 476. Do all of the questions," Mr. de Milo told the class as the bell rang. "It's due tomorrow."
Gathering up my books and notebook, I walked out of my Biology 12 class. Normally, I loved Biology, but I just couldn't concentrate on it today. Everything de Milo said made no sense. I could barely remember the difference between Mitosis and Meiosis. I didn't know how big a whale's heart was. I didn't know why I was a mess today, but I strongly suspected that it had something to do with Anna—
"Perce." Nico jogged up to me, a familiar-looking pencil case in his hand. He stretched his arm to me, offering the pencil case—my pencil case, now I could see—to me. "Your pencil case."
Wait. What? How did he get my pencil case? I looked down at the pile of books in my arms, and back at him again. "Wha—?"
"You left it on your desk, Perce."
"Oh. Oops." I shifted the books onto one arm and got the pencil case from Nico.
"Everything okay?" the younger DiAngelo asked me.
I shrugged. "As okay as one who is trying not to die from finishing loads of projects, tests, and studying for finals can get, I guess," I lied. "So, yeah, I'm okay."
After a boring history lecture and an insane class of physical education, it was English—the last block of the day. I flopped into my chair after Mrs. Leer gave me Annabeth's letter and closed my eyes. Ugh. I was so, so tired. I hadn't even started studying for exams yet, but the pressure of rushing for the finishing of last-minute projects and getting last-minute applications done was taking a toll on me. Rubbing a hand tiredly over my face, I slowly opened Annabeth's letter, yawning all the while.
Our teacher clapped her hands, drawing our attention to her. "Class," said Mrs. Leer, after we all got our letters, "another change of plans. Turns out Mrs. Kerr and I have miscalculated the dates; therefore you still will be writing a letter to them in response today. Mrs. Kerr's class will probably be the ones to write the last letter, but that is not definite right now. I'll tell you for sure next week." She smiled a little, and added, "Remember, if you want to continue keeping in touch with your penpal, you better ask now!"
Dear Percy,
So Mrs. Kerr announced today that this will be the last letter I will write. Or the second-last. She says that she and Mrs. Leer haven't decided yet.
Man, if someone told me that by the end of my twelfth-grade year I'd be friends with someone I've never met, I probably ask if they were okay because I'd be all, "That's impossible! How can you be friends with someone you've never met? They could be a serial killer. They could be a 57-year-old man hiding behind a screen. Are you out of your mind?!" Guess crazy things can happen within 150 days, huh?
To be honest, I was skeptical of this project at first, but I find it pretty cool now. Something about the excitement of ripping open an envelope without knowing the words behind a sheet of white, I guess.
Sincerely (possibly for the very last time),
Annabeth Chase
I frowned a little. I didn't want this letter project to end. I took my time writing this letter, making sure it was neat and legible.
Dear Annabeth,
Yeah, Mrs. Leer told us that too. You'll be writing the last letter, apparently, not us. It's because we have exams in two weeks and she wants us to review for our SATs and stuff. It sucks how we get exams earlier than most schools! Gahhhhhh ...
Same here! I was literally all like, "Oh my gods, this is gonna be so boring!" but I'm cool with it now. I mean, I got to meet someone all the way on the other coast and had them revel in my stunningly good looks :) Besides, I make a pretty good-looking serial killer, right?
Kidding, kidding!
This is really cool—seriously. This letter project opened up new doors for friendships, gave us the opportunity to meet someone we probably wouldn't ever been able to meet … ever. It even opened a door for love and soulmate-finding. Yes, I said that. And I swear, you'll never hear me say that again. That never, ever happened, okay? NEVER!
(But seriously though, I'm pretty sure they're "madly in love" at this point—I feel sorry for Mrs. Leer and Mrs. Kerr, being forced to read their letters to make sure it's PG-rated. Ugh. Imagine the horror!)
You rip my letters open? You destroy that beautiful envelope I handed you? I entrusted that thing to you! How dare you!
"Without knowing the words behind a sheet of white" sounded very poetic, by the way. Good job.
"Possibly, for the very last time"? That sounds like the ending to some cheesy chick flick or something. Yes. I've watched a few of those—only because I was forced to. My friend Rachel and I were in a bet. I lost. Punishment was to watch a few chick flicks of her choice. I swear, I lost so much male pride while watching, it's been over a year and I'm still trying to gain all of it back.
(I'm totally not judging chick flicks, I swear. I'm just not exactly the type to watch them.)
Still working on gaining back my pride,
Percy Jackson
After I handed my completed letter, sealed envelope and all, to Mrs. Leer, I headed back to my desk, thinking. Annabeth would be proud … I, Percy Jackson, was thinking, for once!
Annabeth …
Boy, I sure was going to miss her.
Her wit, sarcasm and genius-ness (was that a word?) was something that wasn't exactly shown in any of my friends. Jason and Rachel were nerds, obviously, but it just couldn't match up to Annabeth's.
As the bell signalling the end of English class rang, I realized something with a jolt. I had forgotten to ask Annabeth whether or not she wanted to keep in touch with me even after this correspondence project was over.
Oops.
2015
A few days later, I find myself at the end of a death glare by no other than Hazel Levesque. To be honest, I'm surprised that she can handle such a stony stare. I mean, she's so sweet and tiny and everything.
"Come on," says Hazel firmly, tugging on my arm. "Let's go."
Obediently, I follow her out of the Chase house and climb into the small car, Frank at the wheel.
I plop down next to Jason, with Rachel on my other side. "Hi, Perce," they both say. Rachel smiles at me, gives me a hug as I buckle my seatbelt.
"We heard about Annabeth," she says briskly, releasing me as Frank pulls away from the curb. "Don't fret. She'll be fine."
The semi-happy mood immediately vanishes. I scowl a little, slumping down into my seat. "How can you be so sure?" I cross my arms. "She's in a coma. An actual one." Deciding to throw all decorum or whatever it is into the wind, I add, my voice rising, "She's in a coma, guys. This isn't some sort of tragic YA movie where the protagonist is in a coma while her boyfriend or lover or whatever decides to forget about her and goes off to save the world from the tragic and screwed-up government system which people had no problem with before the start of the story. Annabeth's in a coma, guys, and I'm certainly not going to pretend that everything is okay, cause it's not! My fiancée is in an actual coma and nothing, nothing, I can do can bring her out of it! She might die, guys! Don't you understand? Annabeth Chase is in a coma and you expect me to not freak out and—"
"Percy, you've mentioned that Annabeth's in a coma four times in the past minute and a half," Jason interjects.
"But it's true!"
Up front, Hazel shrugs. "So?" she challenges me. "I've known her for over two-thirds of my life, and she is, by far, the most stubborn girl I've ever met. She's a fighter. If there's anyone who can go through hell and make it back, it's her. She's a fighter, Percy. She's going to beat whatever odds are thrown at her. She's going to make it."
Her words send a jolt through me. Magnus, Annabeth's cousin, had same those same words said to me months ago. "If there's anyone who can survive going to hell and back and almost die in the process but still pull through in the end, it's her. She's stronger and more of a fighter than most people give her credit for, and she's going to beat whatever odds are thrown at her."
I close my eyes, fighting the urge to shout back at my friend. Deep breaths, I say to myself. Breathe in, breathe out. I stay silent for a while and suck in a breath. "I know," I say finally, and exhale.
"Here we are," Hazel cheerfully announces a while later from the shotgun seat.
I look up and see the AMC Van Ness 14 movie theatre looming in front of us. Posters saying stuff like, Best movie this year: Mad Max: Fury Road, out now! and Inside Out: A Family Favorite! surround the parking lot. "I thought we were going to the hospital and see Annabeth …" I murmur, in a daze.
"Don't be ridiculous," Rachel chides. "Annabeth wouldn't want you to be moping around and whining all day, would she? She'd probably want you to have some fun here and just wait for her to wake up, but not obsess over her unconscious state."
"But—," I start protesting.
"Yeah, yeah, we know." Jason unlocks the car door and hops out. "We told you we'd visit her today. And we will. Just not right now. Right now, we'll watch a movie, and enjoy it, okay?"
"I don't have a choice, do I?"
Four heads shake simultaneously. "Jackson, it's for your own good," says Frank. Hazel, who's beside him, nods in agreement.
I groan and rub my face. "I'm not so sure about that," I mumble.
All four of them pointedly ignore me and turn to look at the theatre listings mounted on the wall.
"What movie should we watch right now?" Hazel muses, glancing at the theatre listings mounted on the wall.
Jason suggests watching some movie called Room, which stars Brie Lawson and Jacob Tremblay. "I heard it's really good."
Rachel, who's beside him, lets out a half-hearted "Mhmm."
"Where's Piper?" I blurt out suddenly.
"Oh, so now you notice my missing girlfriend?" Jason pretends to act hurt. "She's going to be heartbroken once I tell her that she's been forgotten by you already." He drops his act and explains, "She's studying for her last final. She's gonna fly out here with her dad tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow at the latest."
"Overmorrow."
Jason turns to stare at Rachel for her weirdly-timed outburst. So do I. "What?" I ask.
"Overmorrow," Rachel repeats. "That's the correct term for the day after tomorrow."
"Okay, Nerd," Jason answers. "Thanks for the literature lesson."
In response, Rachel sticks her tongue out at Jason like a five-year old. I laugh. "Very mature."
"Oh, come on. Like you don't do that too," she says.
"Yeah. I totally don't." To prove my point, I stick my tongue out at her.
"Hey, can I borrow your sweater?" I faintly hear Hazel ask her boyfriend in the background. "I wasn't expecting it to be this cold today."
Frank lets out a chuckle. "After almost thirteen years of living in San Francisco, and you still can't figure out San Fran weather? Interesting." Nevertheless, out of the corner of my eye, I see the Human Teddy Bear (don't ask about his nickname—it's a really long story) remove his sweater and hand it to the twenty-two-year-old, who accepts it gratefully.
I smile a little, watching them, despite the Annabeth-sized hole in my heart. They—
"We're watching Room!" Rachel suddenly yells to the duo on my far right. Also into my ear. I wince, clapping a hand over it. She cups her hands around her mouth and adds, "And you're getting the popcorn!"
"Gods," I mutter, rubbing my ear. "I totally wanted you to yell in my ear."
Rachel apologizes, though I have a sneaking suspicion that she wasn't all that sorry. (Oh, well. What are friends for, right?) Meanwhile, Jason Grace practically runs up to the counter to purchase five tickets. Who knew that a blonde Superman would be a sucker for drama movies (or whatever genre that is)?
We all surround my fiancée's hospital bed later that afternoon. Seeing her still figure brings a rush of guilt. How could I be having fun, laughing and joking, while this blonde young woman—the love of my life—was fighting for her life?
I start to turn away, but Rachel puts a hand on my arm. "Don't." She takes in my expression, immediately—and correctly—guessing what I'm wracking myself over. "Don't feel guilty for hanging out with us. Don't feel guilty for wishing you never went with us to the movies. And don't, heaven forbid, feel guilty for enjoying your afternoon. What would she say if she were here? 'Oh, yeah, I'm in a coma and I can't get out of it, so I want you to feel the same as me—trapped and in darkness'? Do you honestly think that Annabeth would want you to be like this, Percy? To be this …"—she stepped back, and gestured, palm up and flat, from my head to my feet—"this person who can only think of moping around, the life gone from his eyes?"
I don't answer, and instead, run a hand through my hair for what feels like the millionth time this week. For the second time today, my friends had correctly corrected me about someone—someone whom I thought I knew best.
Yes, I am fully aware that Room was released in September, and that this chapter's second half takes place in May. Even though I've never watched it, I just really wanted to include this film, so … yeah. I'm planning to watch it soon, though :)
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-K