νεκρός || Annabeth Chase x Fem!OC

Vol. 2.5-3: Santa Claus is Keeping Up With The Kardashians

ANNABETH

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"RAAAAAHH!"

I nearly knocked the lights out of Matthew before remembering he's a seven-year-old boy, not a bloodthirsty monster. I fell back into the wall as he and Bobby began giggling, deciding they had effectively spooked me rather than effectively triggered my trauma. I stepped inside, quickly dumping the red bag of Tempest's presents under the Christmas tree, tucking it away where the boys wouldn't get it.

"Is she home?" I called out, wondering where Leah had disappeared.

"In here!"

Dad and I glanced at each other, wondering what was going on as we made our way to the kitchen. There, I found Tempest hovering over Leah, gently peeking over her head as Leah demonstrated the proper way to ball cookies so they bake into perfect circles.

Tempest briefly looked at me. "Hey." She turned back to Leah, clearly invested in this.

"And... ta-da!" Leah said, holding the tray up. "That's how my mom taught me, anyway. How did your mom teach you?"

"Well, I never got good at it," Tempest admitted, pulling a box of Nerds out of her jacket pocket, "but, she used to make these sort of oatmeal raisin cookies with a little divot in it, and she'd put a small dollop of fruit preserves on it- y'know, we usually had strawberry on hand, but we'd switch it up depending on what we had in stock- once they'd finish baking."

"Ooh, that sounds great!" Leah smiled.

"What's going on?" I asked.

Tempest looked at me. "Leah and I were teaching each other about cookies. Candy?" She held the box out and I walked over, taking a little bit.

"Preserves, you say?" Dad asked, sitting down at the table.

Tempest nodded. "We typically preserved fruits and vegetables in case we didn't have access to fresh ones. When you're poor and retracted from society, you typically do things like that."

"Did you ever try canning anything?" I asked.

"Not really," Tempest said. "Cans weren't reusable. Glass jars, though, are. You can use glass jars for storing just about anything, whether it be fruits, milk, strange plants you find and don't know the name of, dead bugs... I enjoy glass jars."

"Did you like New Orleans?" Leah asked, ignoring the comment about dead bugs.

"Of course," Tempest said. "I mean... I think everyone innately likes where they're from, simply for the nostalgia. It wasn't easy being poor, or dealing with the racism my family had to take, but-"

"Racism?" Dad cut in.

Tempest blinked. "Y-Yeah. My stepmom... she was African-American. So were my siblings."

"I didn't know you had such a big family," Leah said.

"I don't anymore," Tempest said, eating more Nerds. Leah's face took on a sorrowful look, her expression so pained, it added to my own. My dad looked down, almost like he couldn't bear looking at Tempest anymore. Nobody spoke for so long, I thought time had entirely stopped.