•Chapter 15•

Hi, hi, hi. Thank you for your patience. I was going to upload a week ago, just as I promised, but … I realized my files had been deleted. You see, last week, I switched from using my laptop for my documents to a Samsung tablet. I wasn't exactly familiar with how it worked, but I poked around and figured it out.

Well, I thought I did, anyways -_- When I transferred all my documents back to my laptop, I realized half of the stuff I wrote in the past day had been deleted! I had to re-do chunks of this story :(

Aaaand after my four days of performing in a musical (I was the lead :D), I got sick. Thank goodness it was after the performance, and not before!

I'm still sick, though, so yeah. High fever and all that jazz. :(

Thanks for all the follows/favourites/reviews!

Happy reading!

2010

As quickly as I could after a dinner of (blue) spaghetti and meatballs, I logged into my email again for what seemed like the millionth time that day, searching my inbox for that one particular email that seemed to never come.

I scrolled through all my unread emails. "Come on, come on, come on," I muttered to myself, biting my lip.

Still no reply.

"You really do like her, don't you?" Jason asked me one day at his house where we were doing a project.

I swallowed. "Yeah."

"Can you please stop with that tapping?" begged Piper, who was seated across from me at Taki's Restaurant, a popular fusion place. "It's driving me crazy."

I apologized, curling fingers into a fist.

I waited a bit, then checked my phone again.

Nothing.

Jason sat by me again in my bedroom, watching as I logged onto my email.

Nothing.

I slumped back into my seat, defeated. I was so sure that Annabeth would reply to my email. It was just unlike her to not reply to something. I rolled off my chair and landed on my bed. Running a hand through my hair, I murmured, "Why?" I lifted my eyes to the ceiling and asked myself the same question again: "Why?"

He heard me, although my question wasn't directed at him. "Why what? Are you asking her why she isn't responding or why you sent that to her in the first place?"

I sighed, closing my eyes. "Both." I inhaled, and opened my eyes again. "I'm seriously starting to regret telling her. I didn't know that she'd have that big of a reaction."

"It's been done, Perce. There's no going back. You just … have to live with the consequences, I guess."

I groaned. "Well, I did it. I screwed up. Friendship over. I'm never going to talk to her again. She probably doesn't want to. I don't know how to face her ever again."

"Don't say that, Percy. Maybe—"

Ding! A new email had come in. Not bothering to let Jason finish, I leapt off my bed and checked my inbox.

I drew in a sharp intake of air. It was from Annabeth Chase.

Jason saw my reaction and guessed that her reply had come in. Taking his cue to leave me to some privacy, he left my room and shut the door behind him. I paid him no heed. My eyes were glued to what my screen was displaying.

From: Annabeth Chase

Subject: Re: A Confession

Heart beating painfully in my throat, I opened the email, not daring to breathe.

In the response were four simple words:

I like you too.

2015

Probably eating dinner with some people you had an argument with is one of the most awkward dinners ever, I have been told. I believed them, but didn't know how bad it was until I got to experience that first-hand myself.

They weren't kidding.

It all started when Hazel paid me a visit early Friday evening. "Hi Perce," she said in her soft voice, leaning against the doorway. "Feeling better?"

She obviously meant after the fallout with Leo and Jason, but didn't explicitly mention their names. I was grateful for that.

I shrugged. "Maybe."

Smiling a little, she pulled on my arm. "C'mon. Some of us are having dinner at some Greek place. Don't remember what it's called, but according to Frank, it's really good." Pausing a little, she added, "Jason and Leo are coming too, but hopefully it won't be too awkward."

It was.

The first thing Jason and Leo did the minute I walked into there was shoot dirty looks at me. Selecting a seat opposite of them, I sat down between Rachel and Frank. Piper had left to visit her father in Colorado and Nico had gone back to his home country, Italy, for a vacation. There were only six of us left, and tomorrow, Jason and Frank would be leaving us for Manhattan and Vancouver, respectively.

The tension in the air was palpable, and was only lessened slightly when the waitress approached our table. "Hello," she said pleasantly. "Have you decided what you'll have tonight?"

We ordered, and when the blue-and-green haired waitress left, the tension was back to full force. Finally, I couldn't stand it anymore—I broke the silence. "Guys, I'm sorry. You know that. I didn't mean it."

"We know you didn't, but it doesn't mean it doesn't hurt."

"Yeah, Percy," agreed Leo. "We understand, and we forgive you, but it doesn't mean we're automatically friends again."

"Percy," Jason said, "we get it. You were upset and anxious, and you blew up. But that is still no excuse. You forgot who we lost and focussed only on yourself, not caring about how we would feel."

I sighed, lowering my head on the table. "I really did screw up, didn't I?"

Rachel's voice floated to my ears. "Yeah, you did, but don't worry—it'll pass. All bad things do."

A few silent moments later, the waitress approached our table again, her arms laden with plates of food. "Avocado quinoa salad, deviled eggs and Caesar salad, macaroni and cheese, and a club sandwich. The ribs and nachos will come shortly," she told us as she walked away.

Frank was studying his plate intently—deviled eggs with a Caesar salad—when he suddenly spoke up. "Hey, so an egg walked into a bar—CRACK!" He forced out a laugh. "Funny, huh?"

Leo let out a weak chuckle. "Yeah, hilarious."

We ate in silence after that.

The Chases get another call from the hospital not too long after my falling-out with Leo and the others. I haven't talked to them since the awkward dinner, and strangely enough, it doesn't bother me.

"Hello and good afternoon," says the receptionist. "Is a Mr. or Mrs. Frederick Chase here?"

Mrs. Chase, who'd answered the phone, replies, saying she is Mrs. Chase. "Just a second, please," she adds as an afterthought, as she waves Mr. Chase, the twins, and me over and presses the speakerphone.

The receptionist's calm voice floods through the room. "Doctor Fletcher would like to meet with you and your husband at San Francisco General Hospital tomorrow at twenty o'clock, or 8 o' clock at night. He has some new updates about your daughter."

Mr. Chase looks almost delighted, if it weren't the cautious look in his eyes and tone. "What is it about?"

"I'm sorry, but I wasn't informed." I can almost hear the sympathy in her voice. "I'm sorry," she says again. "I understand how worried you are over your daughter, but I have no information.

"You will find out at twenty o'clock tomorrow. Have a good day."

Mrs. Chase swallows. "You too." She hangs up and turns around to look at us.

"Well," Mr. Chase says quietly, sounding hopeful, "let's hope it is some good news, alright?"

The car ride to the hospital is silent. My fists are clenched in my lap, joints coiled about to spring, and Mrs. Chase is gripping the steering wheel with all her might, as if she'd fly off if she eased her grasp. The twins have their headphones in, but I know they're anxious to hear the news, too. Bobby's biting his lip and Matthew is tying and untying his shoelace on his right sneaker. Mr. Chase is resting on the seat beside his wife, eyes closed and head on the headrest, but his fists, like his wife's, are gripping the armrest so tight it's become white.

Finally, Mrs. Chase breaks the silence, letting out of one hand to reach over and cradle her husband's hand. "Frederick, she'll be alright." She smiles a little, albeit a sad one. "Don't you worry."

"You're worried too," points out her husband.

She agrees. "That is true. I may not be her biological mother, Frederick, but I am the one who raised her. I know Annabeth will be alright. I may not be the one who gave birth to her, but I, too, have a mother's intuition, and I know she will be alright."

Mr. Chase sighs. "I do hope you're right."

We pull up to the San Francisco General Hospital parking lot a while later. "Time to find out if my daughter's dead or alive or in limbo," mutters Annabeth's father under his breath as he exits the car.

Only I hear him, it seems. My fiancée's stepmother locks the car, and in sombre procession, we file into the waiting room.

Mr. Chase walks up to the receptionist. "Hello, this is Mr. Chase. We got a call yesterday saying that Doctor Fletcher had some news to tell us. The patient in question is Miss Annabeth Chase."

The receptionist nods, handing us a clipboard. "Please print your name and signature." Looking at the four of us standing behind the sandy-blond haired man, he adds, "And have your party do the same."

Mr. and Mrs. Chase do it first, followed by the twins, then me.

"Thank you." He returns the clipboard to a slot underneath the counter. "Please wait patiently in the lobby and I'll call up Doctor Fletcher."

We don't have to wait long. Not less than ten minutes later, he walks out, a smile on his face. "Sorry for the wait. I was delivering two babies—twins." Looking around at us, he adds, his smile turning neutral, "And I assume you're here to hear the news on Miss Chase?"

We all nod.

Doctor Fletcher looks around. "How about I tell you her diagnosis somewhere more private?" he suggests. "Let's go into her room."

We head down the clean hallway, and turn right into another one, then another right. Finally, we stop at room 132—Annabeth's room. We file in one by one, Annabeth's parents first, then me, and the twins enter last. The doctor lets the door shut completely before speaking.

"It's a miracle, really," Doctor Fletcher says. "The probability that she will wake up—it's gone higher. So high, in fact, that I can almost guarantee that she will wake up."

Mrs. Chase's eyes immediately well up with tears. "She's going to wake up. Percy"—she turns around and faces me—"she's going to wake up." She claps a hand over her mouth. "My baby girl is going to wake up."

I don't answer. My body frozen but my mind active, I realize one seems to come back and stand out amongst the dozens of frantic thoughts running through my head: My fiancée is going to live.

Well … yay :) Finally, a happy ending! :P This story will have about one or two chapters left.

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-K