Hwy Guys! New Story, new fun! I'm taking a little bit of an extended break from The Marauding Demigods and have moved to this story, which I've been pre-writing for almost two months. I hope you like it!

Disclaimer: I am not Rick.

Annabeth:

(Three Weeks)

Annabeth thought that, although the school administration had been clever, they had not been smart. They'd opted for turning the commons area, the huge, two story entrance to the school, as the main room for nearly every event.

The main doors opened into it, the counseling and main offices opened into it. Six hallways, like two widespread V's jutted outwards, along with two extra second story hallways overlooking the commons and an extra hallway that split into the auditorium and band rooms.

On top of that, even the library sat straight across from the main doors and into the commons. It was a superhighway, forcing all students from Freshman to Seniors, to walk through one place in the school everyday. It was like blood pumping through a body, always returning to the heart of the building, clogging and blocking progression.

To make it even worse, with all the students the school had to accept, they had to have two lunches. Two extra reasons the halls were clogged. It made Annabeth sick, watching an open area like that, with their school symbol all scratched up and useless. The skylight above sent a glaring light down onto her, hurting her eyes.

Her school was loud, it was full of irritating people, and lunch wasn't fun anymore considering all her friends had graduated the year before.

She couldn't even look at her lunch.

No, really, if she kept staring at her Mozzarella sticks, she was going to throw up (yesterday's) breakfast.

Her stomach twisted and turned, threatening to lose itself and reject what little food she'd been able to stomach for the past week. Nothing, nothing had been going Annabeth's way. Not since the breakup, not since the party- life in general wasn't going her way.

She wanted to say that she was devastated. That her world was being flipped upside down and tossing her a curveball that she had no way of hitting. That these feelings, these emotions- they could all be new.

But no, that wasn't the case. The truth was, is, and always will be that nothing good ever stuck around in Annabeth Chase's life. Not her mother, not her boyfriend, not her best friend- nothing lasted forever.

For someone with this kind of backstory, where nothing good stayed, you would have thought she'd learned. But no, Annabeth Chase still craved what eluded her. Still searched for what she might not ever find: Permanence. Belonging. Acceptance.

Luke had felt like that. He'd been a fixture in her life since middle school. Her rock. She thought she belonged at his side. She wanted to be there. It wasn't a case of 'being in love with being in love'. It was real, what they'd had.

Or, so he'd led her to believe.

But she should have known, she should have seen the signs. She was a Senior in high school, he was a Junior in college. He was in a different state, on a different side of the country. She'd supported his early admittance to Stanford, hadn't she? She'd sacrificed her precious few hours of sleep, trying to achieve what he had? To get out of high school early, get an early acceptance into an Ivy League university?

She'd worked towards permanence. She'd sacrificed for it.

Why couldn't he, the boy she gave so much to, do the same?

He hadn't even flown back. He hadn't even pretended to be sorry. It wasn't a call, it wasn't an email, it was a text. Not even from him. Gosh, if he would've just spoken to her…

She heard the bell ring for fourth period, but she didn't move. She didn't react. It's not like she enjoyed Accounting. It was just another class. Another Stanford brownie point.

Would she even be attending college now?

She didn't have an answer for herself. Instead, she stood from her table (the one everyone avoided) and tossed her lunch in the garbage, not even saving the apple like she'd always used to.

She tried in vain to rub the sleep out of her eyes with her sweater sleeves, sighing quietly when all it did was blur her vision. The light concealer she'd had on smudged, but it wasn't like anyone would notice. It's not as if the computers in Accounting didn't shine right through the makeup. It wasn't as if anyone cared.

A shiver went down her spine when she felt like she was being watched, and she knew it wasn't just a feeling. She shouldered her backpack, trying not to shiver at the idea of him watching her.

She walked to the end of the cafeteria, about to climb the stairs, when her ADHD won out. Her intuitive mind and curious nature always made her wonder, 'why me? Why stare at me?' He never gave her an answer, because she already knew it. He knew she already knew it.

Bright, burning green eyes, like some sort of unnatural fire made contact with her own cloudy irises. Dark, midnight black hair that might as well have been its own living entity, seeing as it didn't seem to stay in one direction. Scruffy, stubbled chin that looked far from recently shaved. His mouth was set in a straight line, and Annabeth wasn't sure if he was trying not to smile or frown. She wasn't sure which she would be more scared of.

He didn't look away from her gaze. He never did, and she didn't expect him to now. It always left her feeling unsettled, however. Today wasn't an exception, in fact she felt worse than before. A new churning began to develop in her stomach. She knew she wouldn't be able to control it, just as she knew she couldn't hide it. Not from him.

Not like how her skin was pale instead of its healthy, tan glow. Not like how the lavender bruises under her eyes grew with each passing morning, threatening to give her away.

He just watched, stone faced, as she ascended the stairs and took a sharp left in the direction of the her next class.

…

Accounting was, as stated prior to her by what few friends she'd had before they'd graduated, the closest thing to an easy A the school could give. The teacher wasn't passionate about his subject, the assignments were always both online and open, and he made all the tests open book, seeing as the classes final was open book as well.

Don't misjudge her, Annabeth was not one to reach half-heartedly for the easy A classes. She actually enjoyed a challenging class every once and awhile, though in Senior year those were hard to come by. In all reality, she picked it because, no matter how hard the math classes tried, they didn't teach the actual, hands-on day-to-day tasks math performed. A class that taught life lessons would be beneficial.

Yeah right.

Because of the open assignment concept, she could, and would, finish every unit ahead of schedule. The problems were easy, and it was all about matching and memorizing definitions. Child's play.

She hated that the teacher had only one rule, and how it seemed to only ever apply to her. No one could leave class early. She could finish the curriculum weeks in advance and would still be forced to sit shoulder to shoulder with her peers.

The tables were inadequate in size, and the monitor's combined heat rolled off in waves towards Annabeth. It made her sweat, it made the two wrestlers beside her stink, and her stomach would churn constantly. Most days she only showed up for the participation points and to avoid the phone call that her father would receive. She couldn't risk her Ivy League scholarship going to the girl or boy with the spotless attendance record.

Then again, would she be going to college still? Her situation changed things, didn't it?

Her stomach rolled unexpectedly, and her head began to pound as a migraine formed behind her eyelids.

She raised her hand, waiting patiently for Mr. Dion to notice her raised hand. When that didn't work, she coughed lightly, trying to make him look up from his wine magazine.

He sighed as Annabeth coughed for the seventh time, laying his magazine in his lap. His tone was bored, and the bags under his eyes rivaled hers. "Yes Ms. Chan? What is it?"

Annabeth huffed internally. "It's Chase, sir. Not Chan." She said. "May I please use the restroom?" She asked, trying to not get up and rush out without his permission. He pondered this, blinking at her slowly and deliberately. He sighed again, shooing her away with his hand.

"Be back before the bell rings, Ms. Chaz. Unless you want to be marked truant." He warned.

Annabeth nodded in acknowledgement, swiftly standing up and sliding quickly out the door, snagging the hall pass off the wall as she went.

...

It's hard, trying to look unbreakable when you're hunched over a toilet bowl and retching. Annabeth tried to stay quiet, hoping that no one could hear her. She tried to muffle the noise, and luckily no one else was in the bathroom, but people hear. The walls, the lights, the tile floors: they all had ears. Anyone could hear her, passing by the bathroom.

Annabeth hiccuped quietly, trying to keep the outbursts from going past her throat. Her retching ended, but these horrid noises always tried to force their way out, threatening to expose her. To tell the world her secret.

And it was a bad one. It wasn't what reflected who she was on a regular basis, though the circumstances that the secret had occurred on weren't normal either. It had been an extreme lapse of judgement, completed with insecure feelings and unknown intentions. But no one would see it that way. No one would believe what she said could be true. She had made a mistake, and social norms would blow it out of proportion.

So she sucked up her courage, tilted her chin up and tried to keep the nausea from completely controlling her life.

She stood up from the cold tiles, trying not to let the numbness that had seeped into her pant legs bother her. She flushed whatever remained down the toilet, removing whatever evidence that there was. As she left the stall and washed her hands, she couldn't even look her own reflection in the eye.

'You made a promise to yourself, Annabeth', the voice in the back of her head said accusingly. 'You couldn't even keep a promise to yourself'.

She dried her hands with the paper towels, promptly throwing them away. She briefly considered, as she stood outside the bathroom, if she should even return to class. She only had ten minutes before she could swap one prison with another. Surely Mr. D would be too 'busy' reading to pay her any attention.

Was she even going to college anyways?

She shivered suddenly, that stupid feeling going through her sweater and giving her chills that travelled up and down her arms and snaked down her spine, clutching and tugging on her navel and the small of her back at the same time, as if the feeling was trying to slowly tear her in half.

She didn't understand why, but her arms instinctively crossed over her abdomen as she hugged herself close, only finding comfort in herself. That's all she had now. Herself.

But as she turned her head to examine her other option- leaving school early -her body froze.

He stood far past the end of the hallway, out towards the open commons, his hands propping the door to the counseling office open. She couldn't make out the defining details besides his black clothing and dark demeanor, but she new, beyond any doubt in her mind, that he was looking directly at her.

He made her mind up for her. His very presence was not a comfort, and she had the distinct feeling that she should stay away. Fight or flight situations passed through her mind, daring her to try and skip class now. So she avoided confrontation, choosing to turn away from danger and seek the shelter of her class. He was a predator, a lone wolf. He didn't enjoy numbers larger than three. He wouldn't dare confront her in a classroom setting.

Still, those eyes as bright as green fire ghosted at her back as she walked back to class. She clutched her arms tighter to her body, cradling her womb.

…

She was at work, in the bathroom, her hands shaking as she sat in the stall. She was lucky that this Thursday was so slow. They had no new releases at the movie theater, and in accordance the crowds had begun to slow down. Not to mention, the snowy and unpleasant weather prevented others from making the journey.

So, when she'd been cleaning the bathrooms furthest from the front doors, she'd slipped into a stall with her hidden cargo in her pockets. Three plastic strips. Three life changing, life destroying tests. The first tests that she'd ever wanted to fail. But no, her period was late and she knew that something was wrong. The nausea she'd been feeling all week wasn't just the flu. It had to be something more.

She took each test, setting them on the toilet paper holder and waiting, her leg bouncing in anxiousness. The stall walls felt as if they were closing in on her, and the silence usually broken by customers wasn't present. She felt panicked, her heart pounding in her chest. She had to physically hold her arm down so as not to check her watch. She tried counting backwards in her head from one hundred, but even that was too much for her overwhelmed mind.

She knew it. Since the first time she'd begun losing her lunch. Now, however, it was different. It was never going to be the same ever again. Her hand rested on her stomach again as her fears were confirmed.

There was a bundle of cells, building and forming inside of her. There was an actual, not yet living being in her stomach, and within nine months, it was going to come out…

She stood slowly, making her way out of the stall. She had to blink back her tears, trying to appear okay before walking back out into the open. She looked at herself in the mirror, unshed tears trying to leave her eyes. Her unsteady hands gripped the granite counter for support.

She threw each test away, covering them in paper towels and shoving them towards the bottom of cart she was pushing around before. She started walking again, out into the hallways and towards connsetions. The idea of taking a shift there in ten minutes was hard to swallow. Maybe quitting now, before anyone began to even remotely suspect, would be a good idea.

It wasn't like she would need the money now, right? Was she even going to college?

She didn't have an answer, but her planned future didn't seem bright anymore.

She pushed her cart along, keeping her head down as she neared the cleaning closet. Her concessions shift was about to start.

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