Shes so perfect, blah, blah, blah.

You’re practically Annabeth’s dream girl, everything she wanted in a person, well in this case you. You’re funny, smart, and totally fucking hot. (In her words.)

Every chance she got she would stare at you, or try to talk to you, even though most of your conversations weren’t longer than five minutes. Still, she thought it was progress.

She almost tripped over a rock while looking at you, her brain somewhere else as she stared, the only thing she could think of was how pretty you are. But you didn’t even notice her. She was praying to Aphrodite to send her some sign you liked her back.