Hello, Percabeth: A Meet Percabeth Fanfiction Book ~COMPLETED~

Amelia Shae

Sally and Paul's wedding. They're fifteen, right? I think. 

   This is utterly ridiculous. Why aren't I the maid of honor? I've been Sally's closest friend for at least half of a year.

   What I'm upset about is the fact that a friend of mine, Sally Jackson, was getting married and I wasn't the maid of honor. Instead, I was a bridesmaid, and Sally's son's best friend was to be the maid of honor.

   We were just getting ready for the wedding, when a girl of about fifteen walked in, wearing a dark grey sweater, dark jeans, and black converse. So this must be the person who took my rightful place as maid of honor. I didn't see why she beat me. She walked over to me, unsmiling.

   "Are you Amelia Shae? Sadly sent me to you under the directions of 'find Amelia Shae and ask her to do your hair. Tell her to keep it curly and pretty but out of your face.' Preferably in a ponytail, but otherwise I don't care," she said, rolling her eyes.

   I nodded and sat her down in a chair. (A/N: I don't know much about hair besides that mine is evil and how to fishtail, so sorry. I sincerely tried describing this.) I brushed through what could only be described as a curly blonde nightmare with a silver streak. What's that about? I put the hair framing her face in a ponytail, in a half-up half-down style. When I was done about five minutes later, she gave me a smile that didn't reach her calculating grey eyes.

Captain*Line*Break

   Sally's son, Percy Jackson, was the best man. The maid of honor, the little brat who stole my place, is named Annabeth Chase. (A/N: Is this true? I haven't been to a wedding since I was six and I'm writing this while offline, so I can't check.) That meant they had to walk down the aisle together. That's probably the only reason I wasn't upset about not being the moh (A/N:She says 'maid of honor' so freaking much that I'm going to just say moh from now on.). Instead, I walked with my fiancé.

   "I think they want us to hold hands," I heard Percy whisper to Annabeth when it was their turn. Pink faced, she obliged, and they walked down the aisle together. A woman who happened to look just like me (A/N: Dam, this woman is hella vain!) was watching the two, smiling with tears in her eyes. When they reached the altar, though unhappy to be told to hold hands in the first place, they reluctantly separated and went to stand in their respective spots. These were some incredibly close best friends. What did they do together to be this close? (A/N: Whoever can name the most things prior to TLO gets a shoutout next chapter!)

 Aye*Aye*Captain!

   It was time for speeches. Annabeth went up first.

   "I've known Sally for three years, and even in that short period of time, she became a second mom to me. She's always been there if you need anything from some cookies to a shoulder to cry on. I know better than almost anyone she deserves happiness. Paul, if you make her any less than happy, I know where you live. I'm staying there tonight," she said. Sally was smiling, Paul was looking a little scared, and Percy looked like he was trying to hold in laughter. Everyone else was politely clapping. I spaced out during the rest of the speeches. (A/N: Translation: I need to write two more chapters tonight and already my thumbs hurt.)

   Later, it was time for the bouquet catching. I was hoping my daughter, Marisse, would catch it. But noooooo. Instead, it seemed to float its way towards Annabeth, who wasn't even paying attention. The woman who looked like me was smiling triumphantly. It hit her in the face and then landed in her hands. She turned even redder than at the ceremony. (A/N: Now my thumbs really hurt. And is this a thing? It's either this or she'll be the next to marry. I can't remember.) This means she's destined to marry her date.

   Ha. I bet she dies alone.

(Nope. I've created you and can do whatever I wish to you. Your fiancé cheated on you with one of the bridesmaids, Bridgette, and she got pregnant. [Honestly. No one uses protection in fanfics anymore.] He leaves you a week after the wedding to be with Bridgette. Marisse blames you and runs away to live with your ex-fiancé's parents. You die at the age of sixty nine [aka 69 if you wish to feel the irony], alone. How ironic. HAHAHAHA B*TCH!)