Percy & Annabeth

Early Wednesday Morning

Annabeth's POV

For eight days, Percy, Thalia and I crossed the Atlantic, surviving brutal storms, limited food, and horrible seasickness. Sorry Percy—I'll buy you new shoes, I promise.

Percy and I were cuddled up at the tip of the boat when dawn started to break. My eyes had already been open for a good hour before, but I wasn't surprised because, believe it or not, the wooden deck of a packed passenger ship that's sailing across the rocky waters of the Atlantic is not exactly equivalent to a feather bed when it comes to a place to sleep.

Good things did come out of this long journey across the pond however; such as learning that whether we're in the middle of a storm, a baby is screaming, or Thalia is complaining about some guy she had to sit next to who smelt like cheese, Percy doesn't wake up. I mean, he didn't sleep much—neither of us did—but when he was out, he was out. Looking at him now, his hair looked slightly like a dead rat on his head, his robes were wrinkled, and a small stream of drool was trickling down his chin. Somehow, I couldn't find it in my heart to look away.

That was, until the ship's horn blew.

I let out a scream then covered my own mouth as the people on deck awoke. Percy opened his eyes and noticed me clutching my pounding heart. He chuckled. "Shut up," I said.

The captain of the ship walked to the front of the second deck that overlooked most of the un-roomed passengers and waited for us to quiet down. With one arm, he gestured to the distance and said in a professional, booming voice, "Ladies and gentlemen, America."

The energy on the ship exploded and people trampled each other for a look at the New World. Percy pulled me up and we joined the other passengers in gazing upon the skyline of hills and mountains; actually, I was more or less just happy that there was land in general—eight days is a long time to see nothing but blue.

"Excuse me, 'scuse me, err, can I just...ugh, MOVE!" Thalia pushed her way through the last family who was blocking her path. They all glared and where a normal person would turn around and apologize, well... Thalia isn't normal. "Thank God. I cannot suffer through one more night of laying next to Cheese Boy."

"I think we all kind of smell like cheese now," I said. "I hope there's a shower here."

"Do we even have a plan?" Thalia complained. "Like, what are we supposed to do: become beggars on the street? We have no money."

I bit the inside of my cheek. Sure, I knew the general idea of what I was getting myself into when I boarded the ship, but it never really hit me that there's no turning back; no parents, no money, no place to live—just banished to a field of strawberries. "What was your original plan, Perce?" I asked him.

He mumbled something, but I couldn't make out exactly what it was over the voiced of the crowd. "What?"

"Nothing," he said a little louder. "But I didn't really have a plan. I was just going to kind of go with it. I mean, there's strawberries there, right? And that's water and food in one package so we can survive."

Thalia rolled her eyes at him and I lightly smacked her, even though I found myself agreeing. But only a little bit, of course! "I hate not having a plan," I said. 

"I'm sure we'll think of something," he said. "And anyway, we don't even know anything about this place. For all we know, it could be a five-star castle."

"I highly doubt that when Zeus banished you, his thought was, 'Where's the nicest place that a guy who killed Clarisse could go for the rest of his life?'" A pain shot though my stomach after speaking of Clarisse's death again, but I tried to not let it show.