The Hate Between Us (Percabeth&Solangelo)

Chapter Eight: The Email From Yale

Annabeth POV

"Hello, Kady Miller here of Olympia & Metis Corporations, how can I-"

"-Kady, it's Annabeth again, I want to speak to my Mother-"

"-Who?"

"Annabeth Chase, Minerva's daughter. I spoke to you yesterday."

"Right, okay, and what time did you call us yesterday?"

"I just want to speak to my Mother," I pleaded, feeling restless. "Please, I haven't spoken to her in years, and I know she works here, and I just need her to know that I'm here and I need her. I-I'm applying to Yale, and I need her to write a reference for me and if it's not handed in in three days' time then I won't get in. Please, just-"

The phone went dead. She had hung up on me. I chucked my phone across the room and dived onto my bed, burying my head amongst the pillows.

You've had everything in your life handed to you on a silver platter.

Oh, what did that Jackson kid know? I didn't need to tell him anything. He didn't know me. He didn't know about what I had been through. About my family. My parents who didn't want me. My stepmom who abused me. My Mom who abandoned me when I was eleven years old because I wasn't the daughter she wanted. He didn't know about the homelessness I had endured for a while before Chiron had found me. Finally, officially, I had a family, this one permanent. And I was slowly getting used to being happy. But he didn't know that before recently, I had nothing at all.

And he didn't know about the accident... but I don't even want to think about the accident. Not now.

No, now all I could think about was saying a massive Fuck You to everyone that hadn't treated me right. Fuck you, Mom, fuck you, Dad – you didn't want me, but you should have. I'm a good person, I would have been a good daughter, if you had ever got to know me you would see that I'm alright. Your loss. And fuck you, Percy Jackson, for assuming that I was okay.

Assuming that I was happy.

Two days before I was supposed to hand in my reference to Yale, I got a call from my Father. Just the sight of his name on my phone made my heart drop.

"H-Hello?" I said nervously, trying to keep my hand steady.

"Annabeth, how are you?" He asked, voice neutral. Lowered slightly, quiet, as if he didn't want anyone else to know that he was on the phone. He was hiding me from Helen, the evil Step-Monster.

"I've been better, D- um, what do you want?"

I have a rule when it comes to my Father – don't ever call him Dad. Don't acknowledge who he is to me, who he should be. He made it very clear that I was not his daughter... I had to start treating him as if he were not my Dad.

"Oh, just, um, checking in, I suppose. Seeing how you're getting on with school. What time is it in New York? It's very early here in San-"

"-I'm fine, actually. I would be better if you didn't feel the need to call me once a year. What is it? Has the guilty conscience caught up with you again?"

"Now... don't act like this Annabeth."

"Like what? You can't tell me how to act if you don't even want to speak to me face to face."

"Annie-"

"-It's Annabeth. You don't know me; you don't get to call me Annie. You don't-"