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    Summary

    Annabeth understood this the way she understood load-bearing walls and weight distribution. The enmity was structural. It held things up. You did not remove it without understanding what it was holding.

    She was twelve years old, and she understood it perfectly, and she was certain she would never have cause to think about it differently.

    Then a boy arrived.

    He was blonde and blue-eyed and looked like he had lost a fight with a lawnmower, and he was unconscious, and he smelled, unmistakably and impossibly, of the deep ocean.

    Annabeth stood in the doorway of the infirmary and looked at him for a long moment. Something in her went very still in the way that things go still right before something large and irreversible happens — the held breath before the earthquake, the instant of silence before a wave breaks.

    She did not name the feeling. She was twelve. She was the pride of her mother. She was going to be great.

    She turned and walked away.

    It would not be the last time she would try.

     

    OR

     

    Percy and Annabeth's parents have ancient beef and have made it their problem.

    Language:
    English
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