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Annabeth, as much as she hated admitting as much, was very much ‘stuck in her ways’ with many things, (And Gods did that make her sound like she was in her fifties and not just barely out of her teen years.) and it just so happened that some of those things centered around a particular winter, December holiday. While she knew that most of her childhood had been abnormal, to say the least, even by half blood standards, Annabeth came to the startling realization that she hadn’t known just how differently ‘the holidays’ appeared in her view compared to others, specifically compared to how Percy Jackson was used to celebrating around them.
Growing up mostly at Camp Half-Blood, they didn’t really celebrate any specific holiday, with the only important date in December, except some of the campers’ birthdays, being the Winter Solstice. And, honestly, the Winter Solstice was only an ‘important’ holiday because the year-round campers got to take a short trip up to Olympus to see their parents. Chiron had started having celebrations, of various sizes, for the holidays that some of the campers had celebrated back in the mortal world and with the mortal side of their parentage, but Annabeth tended to avoid them altogether. She didn’t have bittersweet memories of herself with her dad for any of those holidays that she was desperate to hold onto, and if anything, the more mortal-related things she didn’t have to deal with the better.
But that all changed after one fateful Summer. All because of Percy Jackson.
It wasn’t really something she had noticed at first, or even a few months after she’d met him, but the stark contrast between how Annabeth had treated the holidays and how Percy and his mom had had quickly become apparent the first December after Annabeth Chase had met Percy Jackson. And it had manifested in the form of a package being delivered to her house in mid-December.
“Annie!” Her stepmother called from downstairs, insisting on calling her by the nickname Annabeth detested being called by rather than her actual name, but Annabeth refused to give the woman the satisfaction of seeing it affect her, “There’s a package for you!”
She hadn’t been expecting anything in the mail. At least, as far as she could remember Annabeth didn’t recall ordering anything or being told that she would be receiving something. Maybe it’s from Mom. What if she’s mad that I came back? It wasn’t the first time that Annabeth’s thoughts had centered around the idea that her mother would only notice her for something she’d disapprove of. Honestly, she’d been expecting some kind of sign all summer from Mom that she should not have befriended Percy, the son of her rival, to begin with, but nothing had ever shown itself.
“Annabeth, get down here!” Her stepmother called, much closer to yelling than anyone was going to admit, audibly annoyed by Annabeth’s delay to run at her beckoning.
Whatever the package was, whoever it was from, the sooner Annabeth got it away from the prying hands of her father’s wife, the better. As quickly as she could, without making it apparent that the contents of the package were, likely, important to her, Annabeth made her way down from her room, just like it had been when she had run away when she was seven but with much more dust and somehow colder, and down the stairs to the front door where She was waiting, holding a cardboard package in her hands that was just about the size of Annabeth’s backpack.
As soon as the box had been dropped from her stepmother’s hands and into Annabeth’s, she was asked, “Who on Earth is sending you things? Or did you order something without getting permission first?”
“I didn’t order anything.” Annabeth told her, keeping a tight hold on the box as she tried to discreetly look at the label on it but to her dismay, there were too many smudges across the box, and the label, to clearly read it without holding it closely to her eyes.
“Well, then who sent you something?” Her stepmother asked, and Annabeth could just tell she was itching to snatch the box back from Annabeth to get whatever answers she wanted.
What She hadn’t realized was that she had given Annabeth the perfect opportunity to openly read the label on the box. “I’m not sure,” Annabeth started, lifting the box up, wiping enough of the smudged ink or dirt off to read that it was from, “Percy?”
“Percy?” She repeated, “Who’s Percy?” That was when things went from not good to bad. “Fredrick!” She was just about screaming her father’s name through the house, echoing off the walls, “Fredrick come here, please!”
Before Annabeth could make a dash for the stairs, absolutely planning to lock herself in her room for the rest of the night, or at the very least until her father and stepmother went to bed in a few more hours, her father rounded the corner of the hallway coming from his office. “Yes, dear? Oh, hello, Annabeth” Her father said as soon as he saw the two standing a few feet apart, not so subtly sliding himself to stand between them before looking over to his wife, “What is?”
“Annie, has gotten a package from someone named Percy.” Her father’s wife explained, looking far too satisfied for Annabeth’s liking, “Do you know who that is?”
“Percy? Percy. Percy. Percy.” Her father kept repeating his name as if the mere repetition was going to help him recall if he had or hadn’t heard his name before, “Isn’t that your new friend from that, the uh, the camp?” Crap.
Between her father and his wife’s eyes staring her down, Annabeth didn’t really have any other choices left. “Uh, yeah, he-he’s from Camp.” She barely managed to keep herself from calling Camp, Camp Half-Blood, which would only make things worse with her stepmother. “Dad,” Annabeth began, directing all of her attention to her father as she continued, “can I go back upstairs, please?”
The combination of her calling him ‘Dad’ and asking him for permission rather than demanding it worked like magic. Before her stepmother could so much as make a noise of discontent, Annabeth beelined her way back upstairs and locked her bedroom door behind her. Since she kept her room immaculately organized, there was plenty of room on her desk for the package which she placed in the center of as she went to grab the safety scissors she had in her desk from when she was seven. Annabeth quickly sliced through the packaging tape along the opening of the package, causing the box’s flaps to slowly open up a bit once she cut through it.
Before she was able to see what was packed into the box, the first thing Annabeth noticed was the green and red card that was covered in glitter. As soon as she plucked the card off the top of some tissue paper covering whatever else was in the box, Annabeth could see the glitter sprinkle all over her hands, the desk, the box, and the floor, but that didn’t keep her from pulling open the card and was greeted by the sight of obviously Percy’s handwriting, with a few noticeable scribbled out half formed words and erased letters.
Hi Annabeth!
Merry Christmas! Even throug though I know that you will probab likely open this as soon as it gets to your house.
My mom said I had to write some more before I could send it so, I’m really happy that we got to be friends back at Camp and that I let you convince me to go on our quest together. (And my mom would be really happy with how many times you saved my butt on that quest, but she doesn't need to know all the details.) I can’t wait to hang out with you again until next summer at Camp.
Sinceraly From, Percy ‘Seaweed Brain’ Jackson
Gods was he annoying. Likable and annoying. Annabeth placed the card upright on her desk, not minding the green and red glitter that was sprinkled across her desk now as she pulled back the cardboard flaps once again. When she pulled back the sheets of tissue paper, all she could really see at first was a deep, rich blue with smaller circles of light blue spread across it. But, as soon as she pulled the deep blue blanket, as she soon figured out, from the box, Annabeth was reminded once again how much of an idiot Percy was. Honestly, if she’d expected him to not only pick out but then send her an ocean-themed blanket, Annabeth would’ve been the slightest bit surprised.
“Gods Seaweed Brain,” Annabeth muttered to herself, “what the Hades were you thinking?” Then, when she unfolded the blanket, another small folded up piece of paper fell out with just two words written on it in Percy’s messy, smudged handwriting.
You’re it
Obviously, Percy didn’t know the can of worms he was opening with this game. Annabeth made sure to write down Percy’s address onto another piece of paper she stuck in a hiding spot within her desk drawer, hoping a certain adult wouldn’t find it too soon, as she began plotting her next plan of action.
Now where on Earth was she going to find an owl blanket to send back to him?