Annabeth is seven years old. She likes sandcastles, not boys, and definitely not Percy.

He trails behind her every day as she and her mother walk to school—not because he's stalking her, she's sure, but because they simply walk the same way. She used to think about offering to walk with him, but she remembers seeing him cry the first day of kindergarten. She doesn't want to associate with crybabies.

Sometimes he waves shyly to her, ducking his head a moment later, and it makes Annabeth frown. People shouldn't be shy, especially people like Percy. His mom is nice and he's the best kickball player in her class (besides herself, of course). People like him should be loud and excited.

Annabeth likes milk in the morning and her mother always pours the right amount. Everything's fine.

;;

Annabeth is nine years old. She likes books. Luke is cute. Percy is still quiet.

She walks to school by herself now, since it's not far at all and she's a big girl. Her mom packs her lunch every day. Percy still follows after her, so soundless Annabeth often forgets he's there at all. She hasn't seen him cry again, but his face is always red; like he's constantly embarrassed. Annabeth thinks it's weird, but she doesn't ask him about it. She's not his friend anyways.

One day, the seating chart gets rearranged. Annabeth spends the rest of third grade sitting next to a silent, red-faced Percy. She learns his last name is Jackson, and she learns that he doesn't like to talk because he has some disability that keeps him from reading easily. She knows that because she heard Percy's mom and her mom talking one day.

Annabeth likes orange juice in the morning and she knows how to pour it all by herself. Everything's fine.

;;

Annabeth is eleven years old. She starts reading Harry Potter. Percy likes to talk, suddenly.

He makes jokes, and sometimes she even finds herself giggling. They're in fifth grade and they have three classes together. She sits alone at lunch and reads her books. Percy sits with the kids who are just as loud as he is. She doesn't see Luke anymore.

One day, just as she glances over to Percy's lunch table, he's standing up. She watches him—for pure observation, really—and blinks in shock when he moves to sit next to her.

"Hi," he says.

"Hi," Annabeth repeats, looking back to her book.

"Can I sit with you?"

Annabeth frowns a little and turns the page. "You're already sitting."

"Cool," Percy says, sounding every bit like the fifth grader he is.

Annabeth likes water in the morning, because it's healthy for her. The fridge fills her cup up for her. Everything's fine.

;;

Annabeth is thirteen and in between. Her parents are fighting. Percy still sits with her every day.

He calls her Annie and she scowls and calls him Perseus. He starts calling her his best friend and she lets him, because she doesn't have any other friends that know her like Percy. He's friends with everyone; just outgoing enough to charm every person that wanders by and just humble enough to make everyone fall in love with him. He reads sometimes, on the days where she tells him that she doesn't feel like talking. On those days, she catches him watching her turn the pages as her eyes flit over the words on the page, even though he has his own book in front of him. She assumes he's just bored.

Annabeth realizes that Percy's becoming just as cute as Luke. The other girls start to realize it, too. She even gets a dirty look from a girl called Drew, and all because Percy laughs at something Annabeth says in class. She never realized that Percy was in high demand, and she doesn't think he notices either.

He still waves timidly at people and blushes when he's given compliments. He still plays sports better than some of the eighth graders. Annabeth's proud to have him as her friend, even if he can be dumb and childish. The walks to and from school are the best parts of her day.

Annabeth drinks smoothies in the morning, rather than a drink along with breakfast. Mom and Dad are hardly in the same room with each other. Everything's fine.

;;

Annabeth is fifteen and she catches boys glancing at her. Maybe she's crazy. Her parents don't talk. Percy holds her hand on the way to school.

He says it's to keep her safe, but Annabeth thinks maybe Percy likes holding her hand. He even does it during school sometimes. He takes her hand at lunch and runs the pads of his fingers over the planes of her palm as she reads. Sometimes, it distracts her. Other times, it makes her warm right down to her toes.

She notices that his eyes don't flicker with liveliness when other girls smile at him; it's only her. She thinks that maybe she doesn't want any other boy to hold her hand besides Percy. Annabeth feels oddly behind—after all, she is in ninth grade; shouldn't she be dating a boy like everyone else? Percy always tells her that it doesn't matter, because he has her and she has him and that's all they need. She agrees and goes back to reading.

Annabeth decides that she likes Percy on the way home from school one day. She stutters when she tells him as much, but he only smiles and says "I know." Somehow, that's both worse and better.

He kisses her cheek before he lets her go inside, and just before she pulls away he drops a kiss to her lips. It burns because her cheeks turn red; it burns because it's Percy. She wants to kiss him more, but Percy's already backing away and sending her the same shy wave as he continues down the block to his home.

She blushes for a few hours straight and tries not to think about how warm Percy's lips are.

Annabeth likes soda in the morning because she's a teenager. Who cares about health anyways? Her parents are talking more. She sees her mother smiling at her father fondly. Everything's fine.

;;

Annabeth is seventeen and in love with Percy Jackson. He loves her, too, she thinks, and—well.

He always holds her hand—in the hallways, in his car on the way to school, during lunchtime while she studies for her AP class. People say how cute they are, but not very many people give Annabeth dirty looks. She thinks that they're starting to realize that it's been her and Percy all along; they never really had a chance to begin with.

He takes her on dates and makes her blush and kisses her cheek when she's upset. They fight sometimes, about who forgot to call who or what this person in this class said. It's petty, and they know it, so the fights usually end with a fond kiss pressed to Annabeth's forehead and a hand slipping underneath Percy's shirt to feel the heat of his skin. Annabeth thinks she doesn't ever want to love anyone besides the winsome teenage boy that's always by her side. She thinks that anyone else would feel wrong.

Annabeth likes Percy's kisses in the morning. It's better than any drink she's ever had. Her parents kiss in front of her; she scrunches her nose up; they laugh. Everything's fine.

;;

Annabeth is nineteen and Percy's in the hospital. He's broken his arm.

She always told him to be careful when playing soccer, but it's rare that Percy listens to what anyone says, even if it's her. He apparently landed on his arm and was rewarded with a clean break, something that ended with him being rushed to the emergency room in the middle of the game. Sally rides in the back of the ambulance and Annabeth sprints to her car and follows behind the emergency vehicle.

They fix his arm up and give him directions for his cast. They hand him a dark blue sling that he's supposed to use in order to hold his arm in the same position. Annabeth's just glad he's okay; Percy's mad that he has to use his other hand to hold Annabeth's.

His arm is back to normal in two months, but the doctors tell him to be careful. Annabeth persuades him to lay off the sports until he's sure that he's healed. Percy tells Annabeth to shut up. Then he says that he loves her.

He comes over to her house one day when her parents are gone. They end up in her bed. Percy asks her a million times if it's okay, and Annabeth's too blinded by her sickening love for the boy above her to even consider a negating answer.

It's a little uncomfortable, taking into consideration that both of them are virgins without any clue what to do—not to mention that Annabeth is being all too cautious about Percy's arm. However, Percy ends up making a joke that made her laugh, and that's that. It leaves them breathlessly laughing into each other's necks; about the joke, about the severity of it all, about how crazy it was that they were this young and this in love. Overall, Annabeth says that their first time was awkward with a little hint of perfection.

Annabeth likes waking up next to Percy, which only happens sometimes but makes her bury her face into her pillow to hide her smile. Her parents hold hands over the table. Annabeth glows. Everything's fine.

;;

Annabeth is twenty-three and she lives with Percy in a second rate apartment. College is depleting her funds. They eat generic pasta every night and drink cheap wine. They're in love.

Annabeth steals Percy's jackets and Percy smiles wide when she does. They battle the stress and the bills. They fight. Annabeth walks out on him, only to return twenty minutes later with a hot chocolate for him, purchased from that shop down the road.

Percy proposes to Annabeth on a Tuesday morning. Sunlight is making its way through the window, lighting up their small kitchen and making Annabeth feel like anything is possible. She's making them toast for breakfast and she's wearing his t-shirt and Percy decides that it's the moment. It's better than a fancy restaurant with the ring at the bottom of her glass of champagne. It's better than a public proposal where Percy pours his heart out. He waits until she turns around with a smile, then he kneels down. He's holding a ring that she knows would have taken him months to save up for. Annabeth drops the spatula from her hand and is saying a litany of yeses as he stutters out the question through a smile.

Annabeth pulls on his hair until he stands up, then she hugs him and kisses every inch of his face. She feels like crying because she doesn't deserve the boyfriend—fiancé—she has. She doesn't deserve the life she has. She doesn't deserve the paradise of an apartment with squeaky floorboards and a constant clamorous hum of air conditioning. She doesn't deserve even a second of the boy before her's time.

He smiles against her shoulder and mumbles about how much he loves her and how much he can't wait for her name to read Annabeth Jackson. Annabeth does cry then, because it's everything she never knew she wanted and more. She thinks back to the boy walking silently behind her to school. She thinks back to the boy with a flushed face and a small smile that was always reserved for her.

Annabeth likes coffee in the morning. Percy never makes it right. Everything's perfect.