•Chapter 13•

Hi!

Thanks for all the reviews/favourites/follows! (I have no excuses as to why this is so late. I'm sorry, guys. My penultimate year is of high school is … ugh.) Also, someone stole my phone :(

So I'm really sad/mad (smad?) because I just learned that the other non-honours English class in my grade is writing a mystery story for homework. WHAT. Ms. G., WHY CAN'T YOU LET US DO THE SAME THING?! :(

Okay. Rant over. :P

Happy reading!

2010

I logged on to my Skype, my heart pounding. Do you want to Skype at three o'clock, your time? Annabeth had asked me earlier.

It took me three tries to get my password right—that's how nervous I was. Finally, after my third attempt, I got in.

After a moment, a window popped up.

Annabeth Chase is calling …

I clicked "accept" and, after a moment, her smiling face popped up on my screen. "Hello!"

"Hi!" I said back.

"Woah, I did not expect you to sound like that." Annabeth faked shock and laughed.

"I didn't either. I mean, I didn't expect me to sound like that; I obviously didn't mean me, I meant you, seeing that I've been myself—Okay, that's just really weirdly worded—I mean … ugh. Never mind." I gave up, and threw my hands in the air in defeat.

She laughed again. "Percy, you're so funny."

For some reason, when she said my name, it made my heart jump and my stomach flutter. Trying to ignore it, I smirked and answered with, "I know, right?!"

She facepalmed, her smile never leaving her face. She had such a lovely smile.

"So how's life over in San Francisco right now?"

"Boring. Hot. Loud," she answered. "You?"

"Same. Except it's cooler."

She groaned. "Lucky! It's so hot here! And my brothers are complaining—really, after living here for thirteen years, you'd think they'd have gotten used to it—so much I am tempted to lock them outside. Or in the fridge."

"Don't think your parents would appreciate it," I told her with a laugh.

"Oh, really? I totally didn't think that through," she answered sarcastically.

I laughed. I was feeling a bit awkward, of course, but wasn't as bad as I thought it'd be.

"Hey, you live in Manhattan, right?" asked Annabeth suddenly.

I nodded. "Why?"

"My dad's going to a conference there in a few months. He asked if I was interested in going, and I told him I was. If you can, maybe we can meet up and hang out or something, and you can show me all the good parts of the city. It's in October, I think." She paused. "I know this sounds really weird and sudden, but, you know, seeing as we've known each other for, like, seven months, I figured it wouldn't be as weird. We're not really strangers … you know what I mean?"

I nodded again. "When did you say it was? October?" I swiveled around and looked at the calendar mounted on the wall. "I think I'll be free then."

Her face broke into a smile. "Sounds great."

"Really, Jason," Piper said, her voice muffled through the door. "You gotta do something with that cousin of yours. He's head over heels for his penpal, Annabeth—and he won't do anything about it. He says he doesn't like her that way!"

He laughed. "Hmm, interesting." There came a rustling sound. "It's pretty obvious."

"I know, right?!" exclaimed his girlfriend.

"You want to call the most oblivious of the group and see for their opinion?" I could almost see the grin on Jason's face.

A pause. "Who would that be?"

Promptly, he responded with, "Nico, probably."

"Let's call him!" Excited, she clapped her hands. "Oh, good, you got your phone out already."

One of them dialed Nico's number. His voice came on through the speaker after a while. "Hello? Jason?" He said that none too pleased, his voice slightly groggy.

"Hi, Nico," Piper greeted him. "Sorry for waking you up."

He made a sort of disgruntled noise. "Well, I'm awake now. Sort of. What is it?"

"It's about Percy." (That was Jason.)

"And his love life!" whispered Piper under her breath. "Well, sort of!"

Nico didn't seem to hear her. (Thank goodness.) "What about him?" he asked, his voice full of interest.

"Have, you, uh, noticed anything off about him lately? Like, oh, I don't know, happier? More distracted and daydream-y than usual?"

I made a face at those last words. I whispered, "Wow, thanks, Pipes. You're saying that I'm often daydreaming and distracted?" I thought about it, and added, "I mean, yeah, I guess I do, but you didn't have to explicitly say that …"

"And he—"

"He always smiles at his phone now, too," Jason interjected. "His hand's forever flying to his pocket whenever his pocket vibrates. Like, it actually flies. He's never done that before."

"Yeah …" Nico said finally. "I sort of noticed. Think there's something wrong with him?"

Piper laughed. "Maybe, if you count being head-over-heels over a girl a problem. Bye!" She hung up.

I stopped listening in and scratched my neck, thinking. "C'mon, guys! I'm just really excited that I have someone new to talk to," I whispered. "Sorry, but you're old news. Besides, I don't like her … not that way, at least. And she probably has a boyfriend already. I mean, she's so pretty."

No, she doesn't. You know that! my conscience—or something—countered.

What if she didn't tell me?

Inner Percy snorted. Yeah, so she was lying when she said she didn't have one a while back?

Maybe?

I think she'd tell you. Besides, she's on vacation right now, and she certainly isn't the type to randomly have a four-week summer fling on the beach with some guy she met. C'mon, Percy, you know she's smarter than that. I could almost hear the satisfaction in Inner Percy's … voice? Thoughts? … as he (I?) sensed my defeat. He (I?—this was so confusing!) continued, saying, You like her though. At least, admit that!

I threw my hands into the air. I gave up.

(Also, having internal thought battles were really weird. Not to mention they looked really stupid.)

A few weeks passed, and Annabeth returned from Hawaii. She and I were Skyping at least once a week, as long as our schedules permitted us to. Right now, I was Skyping her while I was eating a snack at four in the afternoon. The September breeze blew into my room, where I was talking to Annabeth.

"Have you seen the new Harry Potter movie?" I asked. "It's really good."

She nodded. "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part One? Yeah, I've seen it. Not impressed, though. The books are way better." She glanced somewhere to her right. "One sec," she told me, and disappeared. I heard the distorted sound of something sizzling in the background.

"You making food?"

The blonde-haired girl reappeared on my screen. "Yeah. Anyways, Harry Potter. You know, it's—" Suddenly, she broke off as she turned her head to the side, her eyes widening in horror. "Crookshanks, no!" she yelped. The images on my screen bounced around, blurring everything together, as Annabeth (I assumed) ran over to her calico. "Get away from my bacon!"

An indignant meow came, followed by the click of her cat's nails as she stalked off across the tiles of the kitchen floor. Annabeth's phone finally stopped moving around, as the view of her kitchen appeared, and, a second later, her face. "Sorry about that," she said, pushing her hair into a ponytail. "She tried to eat my bacon."

I smiled, amused. "You eat bacon for lunch?"

Annabeth huffed, annoyed. "As a matter of fact, yes, I do," she said, snapping the hair elastic into place loudly. "Bacon is perfectly acceptable to eat at any time of the day."

2015

My mother holds my hands as she speaks, just like she did when I was little. "I'm so sorry I couldn't come earlier. I was swamped at work and Paul couldn't leave until the last of the college night class he had been teaching had been completed. I do hope the nightly skype calls helped, though. I could be with you without actually being there."

Paul Blofis is my stepfather. He'd married my mother a few years ago (which made her Sally Blofis (that is really weird to think about)), and taught high school up until last year, when he began teaching English to new immigrants.

"Please don't give up hope," she says now. "I know you're close, Percy. I can see it in your eyes."

I don't say anything.

"This has probably been said to you a million times over the span of a few months, Percy, and I'm going to say it again: Annabeth is a fighter. She. Will. Make. It."

"I know," I say hoarsely. "I know."

"But do you believe it?" she presses me. "Even if you say you believe those words, but you don't really, deep inside, you never will."

No, not really. I don't reply out loud.

She sighs as she takes in my silence, assuming what I think: No.

"Sweetheart, let me tell you a little story. It's from a Chinese fable."

She takes a sip from her water bottle, then offers it to me. I decline.

"There was once this old man, who had a single horse. That horse was his best friend. He loved the horse as dearly as his own. One day, his horse ran away without warning. The old man was distraught. He thought his best friend was gone for good. The townsmen tried to console him. 'Don't worry,' said one. 'Perhaps some good will come out of this.' The old man thought he was crazy, but said nothing.

"Three weeks later, the horse returned, accompanied by half a dozen other horses. The old man couldn't believe it! His best friend had come back, along with six others! That one townsman was right. He and his family quickly adapted to having seven horses, and his only son had a particular fondness for riding one of them. One day, tragically, his son fell and broke his back while riding his horse. The old man cursed the horses his horse had brought, until the same townsman told him, 'Don't. Something good will come out of this.' Though still dubious, the old man listened to him.

"A few days later, war was descending on China. The king required every able-bodied man over the age of eighteen and under the age of sixty to go fight. His son couldn't, for his back was broken. Over ninety percent of the men enlisted to fight were killed. But the old man's only son was spared, for his back was broken. The townsman approached him. 'Don't you see?' asked the man. 'You saw the breaking of your child's back as a disaster, but it turned into a good thing: your son survived this war.'

"The old man never saw the wise townsman again. But his words stayed in his heart, and that's how he knew that every bad thing would turn into something good," my mother finishes. "Don't you see, Percy? It was a bad thing, turned into a good thing, turned into a bad thing, turned into good. Maybe you and Annabeth were close before, but you'll become closer after this. Do you understand, now?"

I nod a little.

She engulfs me in another hug. "Come on, Percy." She stands up. "Let's go home. You haven't eaten in a while, nor have you showered. You need sleep, too."

"But …"

She looks at me sternly. "Remember, you have to believe." With that, she leads me away from my fiancée's bedside.

I let her.

We sit in my living room, crossed-legged. Three years have passed since I wrote that first letter to her. Snow falls outside the window—not that much of a rarity in February in New York. "Well, now that my birthday's passed and I'm leaving tomorrow, I say we do something weird," says the girl sitting across from me, out of the blue.

I turn to her. "Like what?"

"Oh, I don't know." She shrugs. "We could do … Shot Never Have I Ever."

I make a face. "Ugh, that was like the staple party game for my high school. Except with soda. Please no." I think for a while. "Chubby Bunny Challenge?"

"Oh, hell no!" She looks disgusted. "That's dangerous, and people have died from it. Besides, I don't think that's the proper way to enjoy a marshmallow."

"True, true," I muse, lying down. "That, and because your cheeks already look like the Chubby Bunny."

She grabs a nearby pillow and smacks me with it. "Shut up," she grumbled.

I smirk at her. "It's true and you know it."

Rolling her eyes, she pointedly ignores my last statement. "How about we just watch a movie? Star Wars? Hunger Games? We could eat the marshmallows in your pantry while we watch."

"How do you know I have marshmallows in my pantry? Why were you raiding it—again?" I whine. Suddenly, what she said just dawns on me. My eyes widen. "Wait." I sit up. "Marshmallows? Since when did I have—" I clap my hands over my cheeks, delighted. "RIGHT! I did buy marshmallows!" Picking myself off the floor, I make a dash for the pantry.

"I wasn't raiding it!" she calls after me. "I was getting a glass of juice and then I saw it!"

I shoot back, "Sure you weren't!"

I return with the box a minute later, and start wrestling with the plastic lid. My fingers keep slipping around the plastic cover, unable to keep a firm enough grasp to pry it open. She watches me for a while, until I throw my hands in the air in annoyance. "Percy, zero, marshmallow box, one," she says, laughing.

"Hey!" I protest.

She holds her hand out. "Here, I'll do it." She gives me a fond smile.

She opens it successfully on the first try and reaches inside. Out of the box comes a wisp of smoke, growing darker as it climbs higher. It reaches for the girl sitting across from me, where she sits, oblivious to the danger in front of her. She plops the marshmallow into her mouth, just as the black matter touches her arm—

"No!"

I shoot up in bed, gasping for air. This is what my dreams look like now—a fond memory I have of with Annabeth, turned into a nightmare, a shapeless … thing… with a large, gaping hole as a mouth, and tendrils of smoke as fingers, its long, elongated fingers creeping towards my fiancée, to claim her as its own.

Death.

Thanatos.

I reach out for the lamp on Annabeth's nightstand, fumbling with the switch once I locate it.

I know I won't return to sleep any time soon tonight.

By the way, the story about how Crookshanks tried to eat Annabeth's bacon? It happened to me before. I was talking to my friend over FaceTime while he was making bacon and his cat tried to eat it. I know Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part One was released in November, but I really badly wanted to include a HP reference :P

Yes, I named Annabeth's cat after Hermione Granger's cat. Their owners are both geniuses and totally awesome, so, hey, why not? :P

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-K