"Annabeth?" I ask as I enter the library. "You here?"

"I'm over here!" The blonde haired beauty called from the corner.

As I headed over there I caught the stern look of the school Librarian. I tried to hide my smile. I know she secretly likes us. I've seen her listening in on our deep conversations on fictional characters and on real historical people. Though I think she likes Annabeth more. I saw her face when I gave my opinion on William Shakespeare. Don't get me wrong, he's pretty amazing to have written so many plays and poems and all that jazz. I just find his story lines lacking intrigue. Sure the dialogue is kinda hard to follow but the story lines are too straight forward, I prefer plot twists and unbelievable worlds that either exist within our own or completely separate. Annabeth frowned slightly as though I had just insulted her relative but oh well. I'm entitled to my own opinion aren't I?

Annabeth was sitting on the bean bags surrounded by books. Half of them were about historical events and myths, the other half were fiction books. This was her sanctuary. Not a physical one but a psychological one. Books... that's how we met, that's how we became friends.

Flashback time!

I sat in the bean bag corner. This was my favourite spot in the school. I don't have any friends but I love to read, that's where my closest friends are. I don't really care how sad that makes me sound. The people on the pages seem to understand more about me than I did, every time I turned a page I seemed to realise more and more about myself.

I sigh and close the book. I lean back and begin to day dream. I do this every time I finish a book. The... the amount of feelings and understanding I have for these people – er – characters is too much and them to suddenly stop existing? I can't deal with that.

The sound of the door opening breaks me away from my daydreaming. People hardly ever come in here. People use the computer room so they can do last minute homework or to procrastinate on social media sites but they don't usually come into the book section.

I look at the girl who has come in; she has golden blonde hair that is pulled into a ponytail but with a few strands falling into her face. Her eyes are downcast, nose in a book. She must have very good peripheral vision if she can walk around while reading. I've only just mastered it. She weaves her way through the book shelves before suddenly stopping. She looks around trying to find somewhere to sit I suppose. She spots me sitting in the beanies and staring at her. Her eyes... They're intense, wise and stormy. But beautiful too. Enough to make any girl jealous and intimidated, for some reason I'm not. I don't really care about my appearance, sure I brush my hair and teeth everyday and what I wear isn't completely heinous but I don't try is what I'm trying to say.

I blush and give her shy smile. She's the new girl. I heard people talking about her, she hasn't made an effort to make friends, she won't take crap from anyone and she isn't afraid to be smart. As stupid as it is, people in this school complain when someone expresses their opinion or gives a sign of intelligence. Then again I can't talk; I was once somewhat like that... It's not something I like to remember. Thankfully reading saved me from that.

"Hi." She says as she sits on one of the beanies. "That's one of my favourites." She says motioning the book I've just put down. It's the last book in the Inheritance cycle.

"What the book or the series?" I ask. She laughs.

"Well the series but as for which book is my favourite... I couldn't say; I did like the first but..." She trails off.

"I get it. They're all just... And there are points in each of them where..."

"Yeah." She agrees. To anyone else our conversation must sound strange but I get exactly what she's saying. I don't know, call it a fangirl's instinct.

"What are you reading?" I ask genuinely intrigued.

"A classic." She grins holding up the last Harry Potter book. I laugh.

"Ah of course. How many times...?"

"About five." She grins sheepishly. "I don't have must time to read let alone fiction books but sometimes it's just nice to escape from reality and just..."

"I understand... I get to escape my past." I whisper the last bit. I didn't think she'd hear but she did. She gave me a weird look but didn't press it. "Sometimes I wish authors would write a whole book on the characters lives after the "final battle" and what not. Do you know what I mean? In Harry Potter they give us a chapter but I wish J.K. had written more like... I dunno the weddings or Harry and the Dursley's reunion or something."

She smiles tightly.

"Sorry I'm ranting. I would just like to know also the psychological effects it would have too, I mean after such a battle, a war, the violence, surely Harry and the others would have been changed for life?" I take a deep breath.

"Mmm." She says, she doesn't look freaked out by my weird little outburst. She just looks sad. "But then again they may never leave that life. I mean, Harry's likely to have become an auror..."

"Right. I've read up about real people who have been through wars. Did you know that during the world wars PTSD was just shell shock and not properly treated? Imagine that... Being forced into an unwanted war but you have to you know? Because the world rests on you. All that pressure... It's horrible to think about. We could never do that." I realise I've gone off again and blush deeply. Once again she just seems sad.

"Yeah... We could never do that." She says faintly. "Just kids right?"

"So... Where are you up to in Deathly Hallows?" I ask after a few moments of silence.

"Just when Harry's actually alive, you know, the big reveal." She grins.

"Oh that's one of my favourite bits!" I laugh. We talk all through lunch about all the fictitious but wonderful books we've read. The bell rings and we both rise and are about to leave.

"Oh, I forgot! My name is Annabeth Chase." She smiled as she held the door open for me.

"Nice to meet you Annabeth Chase, I'm Nancy. Nancy Bobofit."