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Percy's POV

Annabeth was mad at me.

And it was the worst feeling that I've ever felt.

So far, at least. The worst feeling ever would be if we broke up. Ugh. The thought makes me cringe. I prayed to every god from every religion that Annabeth wouldn't break up with me. I don't know if I could go on without her.

But I thought she was overreacting. At least, a little bit. But I want her to know that she doesn't have to be jealous or paranoid. I only love her. I would never do anything to hurt her, not in my right mind.

But when she hugged me, what was I going to do? I thought Annabeth would be okay since I declined when Sierra asked me to hang out. But apparently not.

But despite the fact that I don't want to lose her, I'm still mad. Annabeth overreacted when I thought she would understand that there was nothing else I could do. I didn't want to hug her, but it would be awkward if I didn't. I thought the hug was a little much. Like clearly she was desperate to even talk to me, but the hug was just over the top.

I finally got to my apartment. I unlocked the door and walked inside. I was greeted by my mother's kind eyes. That made me feel a little better. Calmed my anger a little bit. But not much. I assumed my mom could sense something was wrong because her face fell to concern. "What's wrong?"

I gave up trying to act fine. I sighed as I put my book bag on the floor and slipped of my Converse. "Annabeth is mad at me."

"Well, what happened?" She sat on the couch with her cup of tea. She motioned for me to sit.

I walked over and plopped next to her. "She got mad at me because I hugged another girl."

My mom gave me a look like really? "Well, if I were Annabeth, I'd be pretty upset too." She was taking Annabeth's side. Of course she was. My mother always gave the other person the benefit of the doubt. She always looked at things rationally. If I was right, she defended me. If I was wrong, she corrected me. But she also knew that everything wasn't always black and white. "Now tell me exactly how this happened."

"Well, Reyna and I were waiting for Annabeth to finish getting her books from her locker so we could leave. So we're all standing at the locker, whatever. Then, this girl Sierra comes up to me and asks if I want to hang out. I say no, and that I'm busy, letting her down easy."

"So you didn't say 'no, I have a girlfriend'?" My mother interrupted.

"No, that would be mean. I had no reason to be mean to her. I can't be rude to every girl who isn't Annabeth." I reasoned.

My mother put a hand on her chest. "I must have done something right in raising you." She smiled at me and gave a small laugh.

I smiled back, trying to convey of course you did mom. "Anyways, she says bye, but before she walks away, she hugs me. I hugged her back because what else was I going to do?"

"I suppose that's true. But Annabeth may have seen it in another light."

"'May have'? I think she saw something completely different. But I don't want Annabeth to have to be paranoid. I only love her. I would never cheat on her, or even think about cheating on her."

"I know. But does she?"

"What?"

"Have you told her that lately?" My mother asked.

I thought on this. I have said that I love her. And I do. But maybe she needs more than that. Maybe she needs something to make her really sure. "But I didn't want to hug Sierra. And it felt awkward. Wrong. Like we didn't fit. But when I hug Annabeth, it's feels... right. Like we fit."

"Because you do. You and Annabeth are meant for each other. But I don't have to tell you that. You already understand this. And this is a test; If you truly are meant to be together, than you'll make it over this obstacle. So I pose the question: is Annabeth worth fighting for?"

"Of course." I answer immediately, without any thought. There's no doubt about it. I would fight for Annabeth if it would be last thing I did. I love Annabeth more than anything—other than my mother of course. She just nodded knowingly. Then she stood, with her tea, and walked back into the kitchen.

I then went into my room to sulk. I didn't even want to do my homework. It would make me think of Annabeth. And that would make me sad and upset.

I don't understand this math. Oh! Annabeth is a genius at math—she would know.

I don't want to learn about the buildings of ancient Asia. Oh—Annabeth would, she loves architecture!

I couldn't do anything without thinking of her. So I just laid there. On my bed. Like a sad lump.

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