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Stupid magic.
Nothing else would've made her go along with it—get split from Percy, get a spa day (while they're trying to save Grover!), get coerced into a fancier hairstyle. The gods must be laughing, and if her mother decides to let her drown at whatever their next stop might be, this time Annabeth wouldn't even feel bad.
She's mortified that 1) she almost messed up her promise to Chiron, and 2) almost, for a brief moment, turned into an Aphrodite kid.
Shudder.
(And no, not because she hates that cabin. Silena in particular is great. But, ugh, their mother!)
Percy's at least busying himself with the Queen Anne's Revenge's controls instead of looking at her, which makes the whole situation about 2% less mortifying. Better to free herself from the bonds of…uh, sorceress-approved jewelry? Makeover movie magic? Grey-area fashion choices?
(The gods are definitely laughing at her. She can't even think straight.)
She estimates four minutes before Percy starts checking on her—enough time to get the ship out to deep water and redirecting themselves to Polyphemus' island. Four minutes before he makes fun of her in her very un-Annabeth-y (please, please let her brain work normally again) attire and updo. Four minutes before the adrenaline of saving her best friend (whom she feels totally platonic about at all times) from being a fluffy classroom pet wears off and she's fully in the I Failed Chiron, and Now I'm Going to Fail Grover, and— post-traumatic experience mindset.
Needless to say, she moves quick.
Needful to say, Percy doesn’t take four minutes.
Annabeth's pried off one of the gold bangles off her upper arm and moved on to detangling the knot of a—you guessed it—gold hair tie/bow/ribbon thing when she hears, "Well, that was fun," in the most un-fun tone she's heard come out of her best friend's mouth.
(That is to say, a world record of un-funness.)
"Preaching to the choir, Percy," she says, only half-mumbled. She grits her teeth when a hidden hairband tugs loose with the ribbon, the prickly feeling of hair being pulled very much as unwelcome as the tossing of waves rolling their ship from side to side.
"You looked like you had fun," Percy smirks, walking back to her and plopping himself down by the mizzenmast. "Enjoying your vacation?"
She knows it's a dig at last year's quest, when they'd ridden a bus and he'd been upset at a…prime location.
She doesn't engage.
Percy frowns when she keeps at it instead of responding, messily pulling at parts of her puffs and braiding them down to place. "Hey, you don’t have to, that's—"
"I know," Annabeth sighs. "I know. It's weird—it's not me, I know, it's so—"
"Pretty."
Stare.
Percy smiles back in reply, kind of awkward and kind of small. Kind of twelve and kind of unsure if they're friends or not all over again. She’s kind of hyperfixating on how his blond curls are falling to the side, following the tilt of his head. Kind of forgetting where she is and what she’s doing.
At last, Annabeth manages to kick her brain back into gear with a brilliantly eked out: "...What?"
(Did she grab the wrong Percy? Is there another magic trick here? If she has to go back and deal with all of those attendants and Blackbeard and his crew—)
"You look pretty," he says again, like he's saying, My mom's Sally Jackson. "I would've told you, but I was kinda—" he makes little grabby paws with his fingers and clips them together, a squeaky-squeal escaping his mouth, “—y'know."
Annabeth gawks at him, strategically ignoring the compliment. "Do you speak guinea pig now?"
"Maybe. We should test it."
"When we find Grover."
"When we find Grover." Percy winces.
She knows he’s also thinking about Tyson, but she’s not ready to bring that up yet.
"Hey,"Annabeth says softly, "we'll find him."
"We have to."
"I know."
"No, I mean—" he points at his head, "—if we don't, you get a two-for-one best friend disappearance special. On the house."
She rolls her eyes. "Like there's much going on up there."
"Hey!" He bumps her shoulder with his own, lingering close for a moment to whisper jokingly, "At least I have brain enough to speak gerbil."
"Guinea pigs are a different species, dummy."
"You're just jealous that I know something you don't, princess."
Annabeth's going to assume the sea is getting to his head, and the heat is not rising to her face. "Quit it. Bad enough you think my one-and-done makeover was actually good."
Percy’s brow shoots up so fast, she almost thinks he’s actually offended. "Pff. Like you're not pretty all the time," he mumbles, rolling his eyes and turning away from her. "You're impossible."
Annabeth doesn’t know if she wants to kiss his cheek or toss him overboard, but she does know she shouldn’t succumb to either thought. "And you're—" Freeze.
Percy sits up, concern deeply written on his face. "What is it?"
Annabeth stands, squinting at the distance, ears prickling at the sound of waves and nothingness.
And something…singing in the distance.
Frown. "Annabeth? Hey, I'm—"
"—going to help me," she cuts in, a mental map forming in her brain.
She knows where they are, now. Knows what’s after Circe’s Island and before Polyphemus’ Cave.
Her stomach does a flip at his confused face, from nerves and something she's trying to forget about.
"With?" Percy asks, a hand up for her to take.
Annabeth pulls him up and grins—that same one that Percy knows is going to give him more trouble than it’s worth—and he looks just about ready to protest when she says:
"I wanna hear the Sirens."
Annabeth forgets about their little conversation until they’re all back safely at camp, and she also forgets her plan to not succumb to a choice and kisses his cheek.
In front of everyone.
Maybe she left half her brain in the Sea of Monsters after all.