Dear Percy,

Annabeth stopped for a moment, pen still hanging over the nearly-blank piece of paper. So much that she wanted to say to him, and that she might not get the chance to say. How was she supposed to put it all into a letter?

Sorry if this seems so convoluted and hard to understand, but I just don't know how to tell you what I want to say. I hope that in writing it down, I can phrase it in a way that you'll understand. That might affect you. But it's very possible that I'll fail at that too.

When they'd separated – there had been so much tension in the air. Luke, Rachel, Hera – and she hadn't known how to say what she wanted to say. Nothing had come out right.

Look, I know we didn't part on the best of terms. I know we fought – well, sort of, in any case – and I don't even know how to explain why, or how, or what I was feeling.

Well, that in any case was true. So many emotions had been – and still were – spinning around in her head – relief that they were still alive; anger at Hera; fear for what next summer would bring; sadness for Pan and Daedalus and Lee and all the others who had died; worry for Chiron; and an awful, gut-wrenching loss. Luke.

And jealousy. She might as well admit that. A lot of jealousy. Jealousy of a certain Rachel Elizabeth Dare.

The thing is, Percy, I

Could she even write this?

I like you. A lot. In case you hadn't figured that out from Mount St. Helens.

Of course, his reaction – or lack thereof – hadn't really given much hope to those feelings. Generally, when you kiss someone, you want them to at least acknowledge it if they feel the same way. If they ignore it completely, it usually means, well, that they don't feel the same way.

I get that you probably don't like me back. It surprised me, too, when I finally realized it. But I guess I'd been denying it, even to myself, until Mount St. Helens. And then I knew I couldn't let you die without knowing, if that was the case.

She'd thought for a moment – the closest to a shining, glorious moment she could get after all that had happened this summer – when they were arguing, that maybe he was jealous of Luke. Of course, that was probably wrong.

Still, just in case he was thinking it . . .

I know that Luke has been pretty much the main thing between us – the elephant in the room, so to speak. The thing that makes us both say and mean different things.

Luke. Her heart twinged.

But I wanted to explain it to you. Because I don't think you understand how much Luke really means to me.

How much he had meant to her, since she was a scared seven-year-old in dirty, ripped pajamas, armed with nothing but a hammer, who'd been on her own for only a few days and had no hope of food, attacked by monsters every hour –

He and Thalia – they were my first real family. The first people who ever gave me a home, a sense of belonging. They risked so much to care for me – how many people would really take on a seven-year-old who promised to be more of a burden than a help, when they themselves were being pursued by so many awful monsters already. You know that the Furies, and a lot of Hades' servants were after Thalia. I would have only slowed them down. But they took me anyway.

She'd had Matthew and Bobby, of course, but they were just babies when she ran away, and she didn't really know them. She still barely knew them, really. Her half-siblings at camp, Malcolm especially – and Luke, of course – felt more like siblings than the two boys at her dad's house in San Francisco, which she still couldn't think of as home.

He was the closest to an older brother I'd ever had. And I adored him. I looked up to him. What little girl doesn't want a big brother who will take care of her?

She remembered getting older, and Luke was the only boy who'd ever really paid attention to her. The others in the Athena cabin were, of course, kindred spirits and siblings, but Luke was the only boy who didn't have the duty of being a brother to her, but was one anyway. The one who, after Chiron, she would run to when she was sad or hurt or afraid. The one who would always comfort her. And she began to misinterpret those feelings.

Fine, I admit it. I used to have a little crush on him. You know that – you spotted it. He was the only boy who'd ever meant anything to me, who wasn't directly related to me. I was more interested in battle strategies and waiting for the person who would come to camp to grant me my quest. I was never like the girls in the Aphrodite cabin, watching all the boys to see if they were good-looking or not. I liked boys who were real, who liked me, who knew me – and at the time, Luke was the only one who did that.

That had stretched on for awhile. Even when Luke had turned on them, when he'd gone over to Kronos, she'd still clung to the memories of her seven-year-old self, when a Luke without the ugly scar left by Ladon would pick her up and spin her around, laugh with her, stroke her hair.

Even after he joined Kronos, I wouldn't give up on him. Never. I didn't know about the Golden Fleece. Didn't know what it could do. I thought Thalia was lost forever. And if I couldn't keep her, then I could at least keep hoping for Luke. I didn't know – even now I don't know – if I still wanted him in a relationship, if I still liked him that way, or if I just wanted my big brother back.

And then Thalia had come back. And Luke had lured her into a trap. And Percy had come after her. And it had hit her.

But then, last winter, everything changed. You changed everything for me.

Because Luke had turned on me. Made me hold the sky. Didn't help me. And you came after me.

Percy, I don't know anyone else who would have done what you did for me. Except for Thalia, because she did. But it's different for her. She was part of the quest. You weren't. You risked everything. For me.

She had realized that Percy was what she'd wanted in Luke. Someone who paid attention to her, was there for her, genuinely enjoyed her company. Someone who was loyal, funny, and knew where to bend when she did not. Someone who made up where she was lacking. Someone who completed her.

And when she'd gone to pick him up from orientation, she'd thought they were going on a date, and had been so filled with hope. And then she'd realized – realized that maybe she'd realized too late.

Percy, when you burst out of that school building with a pretty redhead close behind you, it killed me. Because I had finally realized that it was you all along. You, not Luke, who I needed. Who I wanted. Who I

She froze again. Almost put the pen down. And then something, some feeling or celestial force, compelled her hand to keep moving.

Who I loved. And I thought that – that maybe someone else had realized this, while I was trying to sort through all my confusion. I thought maybe I was too late.

Rachel was so likeable. She probably didn't understand why Annabeth was always so hostile toward her. And Annabeth knew – she knew – that she was losing points with Percy by being so judgmental. But she couldn't help it.

I know I haven't been nice to Rachel, Percy. I know that that's driving you away from me and towards her, and I think that that's one of the reasons she hasn't been rude to me. Because she knows how to play the game, and I don't.

She needed Percy. She needed Luke. But in such different ways.

I've lost so much, Percy. Everyone I've ever considered family has eventually been ripped away from me. My father. Thalia. Luke. Thalia again. And if there is a chance to get them back, I can't give it up. It's why I took your advice when you suggested I write to my dad. It's why I went to school with Thalia, that year she was in New York. It's why I'll never give up on Luke.

It's why I'm writing this to you.

Maybe she was too late. He'd be with Rachel the whole school year – have plenty of time to get together with her, to let her comfort him over the stress of the prophecy, the fear of what next summer would bring. But if there was even a chance, she couldn't let it go.

I need you, Percy. Not the way I need Luke. It's completely different. You shouldn't be jealous – if you even are jealous, and I didn't make that up in my delusional mind – you shouldn't be jealous, because he's my brother. And you – you are anything but.

Percy was different from anyone she'd ever known. And even when she'd thought she liked Luke, his touch didn't give her shivers the way Percy's did. She didn't find herself mesmerized by his eyes the way she constantly found herself looking into Percy's. She wanted Luke to be her older brother, to comfort her and hold her and pick her up the way he used to. She wanted Percy to hold her in a completely different way.

You know, in winter, when we danced – once at that school, once on Mount Olympus – I didn't want the song to ever end. I wanted to keep standing there with you, swaying with you, back and forth. I didn't even mind that you kept stepping on my feet. I'd have let you do it forever, if it meant staying there with you.

Oh, gods, she was starting to sound like an Aphrodite camper. Percy could never see this letter.

I'm going to burn this letter as soon as I finish writing it, Percy, so you'll never see what I've written here. But I just wanted to write it to you. To say, one time, what I may never get to say.

So . . . I love you, Seaweed Brain.

Love,

Annabeth

She signed her name, neatly and clearly, at the bottom, and read through the letter one more time, feeling her cheeks grow warm at her own daring. She touched the places where she'd hesitated – where the words were spaced too far apart, and her pen had pressed too hard. And finally, looking furtively around to make sure no one else was in her cabin, she lifted the paper to her lips and kissed the margin at the bottom, right under her name.

Then she stood, folded the paper twice, and headed out of her cabin, to the dining pavilion. She hesitated for only a second before dropping the letter into the brazier.

Then, after watching the paper burn to ashes, she closed her eyes and, for the first time in her life, prayed to Aphrodite.

Okay, I really, really, really hope Annabeth wasn't OOC in this. I tried to keep her as in-character as possible, but I figure every teenage girl needs to have her lovesick moments. I don't own anything.