Soulmates

Chapter One

          THIS FIC HAS BEEN DISCONTINUED

DO NOT EXPECT AN UPDATE

Annabeth Chase stared at her copy of American History, trying to decipher the words that were changing form before it was her turn to read.

Her teacher knew that she had dyslexia and gave her so many mercies because of it, including a printed version of the textbook written in Comic Sans. While that may seem like an idiotic gift, it has saved her and her pride multiple times these last few days.

But today Today Annabeth was stressed. And when she was accentuated, it would be a gods-damn miracle for her to read. She hated that about her. How could someone so intelligent only have learned to read Charlotte's Web about a month ago, with more help from audiobooks than she would like to admit?

"Alright, Annabeth," said Mrs. Smith, a petite woman with blond hair in a bun. "It's your turn. Remember, you can always use the audio."

But Annabeth would never use the audio. At least not in class.

No, here she'd figure out the lines herself.

"It, um," Annabeth started, already stumbling on the words. "It lasted... nine years i-instead of s-sev... seven years."

Mrs. Smith smiled. "Good, now who here can tell me more about the French and Indian war?"

She rambled on and on as Annabeth zoned out and stared at the tattoo embedded on her wrist.

It was a wave, looking as if it were about to crash onto her arm and seep into her palm. She didn't really know how she would find her soulmate based on if the guy likes the ocean or not.

She doubted she would ever find her soulmate. Not at the rate she's going about life. C's and D's on her report card in most classes, except electives with an architect as a father, isn't exactly the most ideal situation anyone wanted to be in.

She began to lightly tap her fingers on her desk as she waited for the bell to ring. Language Arts always felt like the most prolonged class period, with all the reading and analysis.

She cried with happiness when she got the standard class. While that wasn't exactly ideal for someone with dyslexia, she was more than okay to not be forced into two language classes and opt-out of one of her electives. Besides, Annabeth was judicious and incredibly resourceful.

She used audiobooks to memorize words and used a word to text platform to write them down. By then, she called Magnus and asked her how it was spelled. She remembered the spelling by learning the way Magnus said it was spelled.

It takes about an hour to learn a specific word that way.

She looked back at her tattoo, admiring the different shades of blues and greens.

"Annabeth, can you see me at the end of class, please?"

Shit, shit, shit.

A wave of murmurs and laughs spread across the room.

Annabeth nodded and continued to tap her fingers to a rhythm, this time much faster than before.

"Hey, Annabeth," said Mrs. Smith. "I just wanted to look over your grades and I noticed that you have a C."

Annabeth's brows creased. "How bad is it?"

Mrs. Smith laughed. "It is 78%, and I am aware of the hardships of writing an essay to improve these grades. Would doing a visual project be easier for you?"

Her face lit up. "Yes, it would be much easier!"

"Great. I have been asking all my dyslexic students this, I'm not too worried about the other kids."