Annabeth

All right, cabin 10, early summer sign out bunk checks. You've got one on the list. That's me. I'm just waiting for Mitchell to give me back my hair dryer so I can finish packing and then I'll be ready to go. All right, but make sure you and whoever is picking you up, meet up and leave within the pickup window. Mortals park at Half-Blood Hill and half-blood standing outside the camp barrier attract all the wrong kinds of attention. No problem, man. You won't have any issues from me. Percy, Grayson, before I forget, once you leave, tell your dad thank you from everybody for sending you that care package of old Disney movies. If Camp Movie Night had to be one of Chiron's Shakespeare or Homer adaptations again, I think I was going to lose it. Sure, Percy, I can thank my mom for the movies. I don't have a dad, man. Oh, shoot. Sorry. You're an Aphrodite kid. So I kind of just assumed. Wait a second. Your pick-up sheet says your stepmom's getting you. Yeah, camp is only a 10-minute detour from her usual commute to work. Aphrodite is your mom. Mortal stepmom. Mortal mom. Mortal stepmom. Don't ask me how I happened. None of us have really been able to figure that one out. You've got what? Three moms, dude. Talk about the divine parentage lottery. I lucked out having my one mom, but you got three. Annabeth. Seriously? Seaweed brain. Sorry. That's awesome. I thought I lucked out having my one mom, but you got three? What? Whoa. Sorry, not how that was meant to come out. Like, no judgment, man. I mean, my girlfriend is literally a brain baby. What? You've got what? Three moms, dude. Talk about the divine parentage lottery.