Hey, guys! It's me, OliviaOwl14. This is one of my newest stories, and I've dubbed it "Bless the Broken Road", after one of my favourite songs by the band Rascal Flatts. The song was actually my inspiration for the title and the storyline, and I think the song is beautifully written. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it. Please review below! Reviews are GREATLY appreciated. Enjoy! :D

OliviaOwl14

Bless the Broken Road

Annabeth brushed a curl behind her ear as she typed on her laptop. Her purple glasses slid to the end of her nose as she leaned forward to read the end of her narrative.

"And the Nobel Prize for Clichéd Endings goes to..." she muttered under her breath, pressing her finger on the 'backspace' button until the offensive sentence was gone forever.

She sighed and pressed the tips of her forefingers against her temples, barely suppressing a headache and the urge to scream in frustration. She'd been working on her book for at least three months, and she had an extremely bad case of what was commonly known as writer's block.

Pulling her glasses off quickly, she saved her work and shut down the computer. Enough for one day, she told herself, mentally quelling the voice that shouted, No! Keep writing! You're almost there! You're so close!

Pulling her fraying laptop bag up from the floor by the shoulder strap, she slid her laptop inside it and zipped the bag shut. Swinging it over her shoulder, she tucked her glasses into her case and placed them neatly inside the pocket of her bag. It was these small rituals every time she stopped writing that helped her to subdue that small voice in the back of her head and the strange feeling of guilt rising in her stomach.

You're betraying your work, the voice told her now, annoyingly correct. You should be writing.

Shut up, Annabeth thought automatically.

She walked towards the entrance of the library, giving the librarian a friendly smile as she did so. She had always been on good terms with the library staff, ever since that first day in grade 1, when she had impressed them by listing the whole seven books of Harry Potter's storyline, and then, when they questioned her, confessing that yes, she had read the entire series before having reached six years of age, and yes, she was in the advanced reading group.

Obviously, they had only let the first graders read up to the third book in the series at her school, so she'd harangued and harassed her father until he'd read the last four books to her. But she hadn't been about to tell the librarians that.

As she reached the doors, she subconsciously began humming a tune that seemed familiar to her.

I set out on a narrow way many years ago

Hoping I would find true love along the broken road

But I got lost a time or two

Wiped my brow and kept pushing through

I couldn't see how every sign pointed straight to you

She stopped, amazed, as she realized that the tune wasn't inside her head. It was coming from the back of the library.

The strains of a guitar being gently strummed floated through the library, but the oblivious librarian, with her earphones in, didn't even look up. Why not? the voice challenged her. If it was a person, Annabeth could have sworn it would have raised it's eyebrows in mockery. Go investigate. You know you want to.

Fine then, she answered, her curiosity winning over. She glanced at the librarian, and then quietly walked behind several large bookshelves to get to the back of the library.

She tucked the stray curl behind her ear again as paused outside the door the music was coming from. She listened closely. Not bad, by the sounds of things. Whoever was playing was actually pretty good.

She knocked quietly on the door, and heard the music stop abruptly.

The door squeaked open, and a pair of green eyes stared at her through the gap, the face shadowed from the dim light within the room.

"Yes, miss?" the boy questioned. "Is there a problem?" Annabeth winced. "I'm not a librarian. I was just listening to the music." The door opened a crack wider.

"Oh yeah?" he questioned her, a fringe of black hair showing through the crack. He bit his lip. "Any good?"

"Definitely!" Annabeth enthused. "'Bless the Broken Road', by Rascal Flatts, right?"

The door opened wider. "Yeah. It was. How'd you know?"

Annabeth's eyes widened a fraction. The boy playing the guitar was Percy Jackson.

"I listen to that song all the time," she confessed, amazed. Who'd have known? He was the shyest boy at school. She wouldn't have ever guessed that he had this amazing talent hidden away.

"Hey," he questioned her. "What's your name?"

She smiled. "Annabeth Chase."

"Nice to meet you, Annabeth Chase," he said, solemnly holding his hand out. She shook it, feeling how surreal that moment was. "I'm Percy Jackson."

She smiled. "Yeah. I've seen you around."

"You too," he smiled at her, and backed into the room. Seconds later, he was out, shutting the door behind him, a zipped-up guitar case in hand. He smiled at her again. "Well, I'd better go. Bye."

"Bye." She watched him leave, feeling as though the heart of the feeling she had just experienced was walking out the door, with a guitar case in his hand.