I groan. I hate my alarm clock; it sounds like loud car alarm going off. I roll around in my bed until I couldn't take it anymore and hit the snooze.

It was already 6:30.

I sat up on my bed, my eyes still very heavy, I was exhausted. I was so tempted not to get up, but my dad called from downstairs. "Annie! Are you up?"

"Yeah!" I yelled back. I groan one more time and forced myself up. I do my usual morning routine: shower, shampoo, brush my teeth, dry my hair, pick out my clothes. Today, I decided to wear a gray T-shirt and a pair of ripped jeans. I brush my freakishly big blonde curly hair, which, by the way, is impossible to brush the knots out of. I managed anyway.

I grab my blue backpack right before I leave my room and headed downstairs. I live in a 3 story house with my dad and twin brothers. It's a mess. In the living room, there are Legos everywhere, and G.I. Joe or Power Ranger figures lying on the floor. There's even a red stain on the carpet where one of them spilled spaghetti sauce.

I hate living with boys.

But it didn't use to be that way. My mom, the greatest person in the world, died about 3 years ago. She was amazing; smart, nice, caring, beautiful. Whenever we went somewhere, people would always tell us we look alike. She had curly blonde hair- like me. And lovely gray eyes- like mine.

I loved my mom so much.

A drunk driver took her away from me.

When she past, I went into a deep depression. I would stay in my room for days at a time, only coming out for food and to use the bathroom. And I would always ask myself, 'What's the point?'

What's the point of brushing my teeth? What's the point of taking a shower? What's the point of talking? What's the point of laughing?

Well, you get the point.

Anyway, during that time, no one was there to help me because the rest of my family was dealing with the same thing. I wouldn't even let any of my friends help because I didn't let them. I cut them out. So, I was on my own.

I cried for days, too. At one point, I thought I ran out tears because there weren't any coming out. I took that as a sign to move on with my life. I knew it wouldn't be easy, but I slowly did it. So did my father and brothers, eventually.

Once every while, I would look at photo albums and scrapbooks of my mother. I wouldn't cry; I would just stare at them. Sometimes, wondering what could've been. But I knew I shouldn't do that.

The thought of my mother gave me shivers just before I entered the kitchen. I didn't like thinking about her, I hated to. I took a deep breath and touch the locket she gave just before she past. It was a small, silver heart locket. Inside, there was a picture of mom and me at the beach on my 10th birthday. It was our special place. In the picture, she was hugging me, looking at me with adoring and loving eyes.

On the back of the locket, it was engraved, I love you, Annie.

Annie was the nickname she gave me when I was younger. She knew I hated it, and would always call me that just to annoy me.

God, I miss her.

I entered the kitchen to see my dad at the stove making pancakes or waffles or something. I saw my brothers, Bobby and Mathew, sitting at the dining table throwing food at each. Jeez, they're in the 4th grade and they still act like preschoolers.

"Morning, dad." I say as I take a seat and grab a glass of orange juice.

He smiled, "Hi Annie. I made some chocolate chip pancakes, want some?"

I grinned, eagerly, and nodded. My dad is an amazing cook. And that is just one good quality in him. He is a genius. He's a professor at New York State University.

I can see why mom married him. He is nice, caring, handsome, and the best dad. He has short brown hair and blue eyes. My dad's pretty tall, about 5'10. He's wearing his usual 'teacher uniform.' A black and white striped polo and dress slacks.

My dad gave me some pancakes. I thanked him.

I ate the rest of my breakfast until I heard a loud HONK.

"Oh!" I exclaimed, my mouth full of food. "Thalia's here. Gotta go."

"Bye, sweetie." Dad said. I kissed him on the cheek, grabbed my backpack and rushed toward the door.

When I got outside, I saw my best friend in the driver's seat of her favorite car. It's an old, red Ford '87 truck. She loves that thing so much, her brother gave her that car before he went off to college. And apparently, the cars' name is 'Cameron.'

I walked over to Cameron. I noticed that it was a beautiful fall day. It was a warm sunny morning and the leaves were just falling off the trees, so they were turning colors of red, yellow, orange, and green. I breathed in the fresh air.

I open the door and got in the shotgun seat. "Hey. Thals."

"Sup, Annie." She greeted back.

I rolled my eyes, "Don't call me that."

Thalia chuckled. She is punk-rock type of girl. She had spiky black hair and intense blue eyes that made you want to get out of the way. I wouldn't call her the nicest person, but she has her moments.

Thalia has been my closest friend since I could remember. She helped me with some tough times.

"Anyway," Thalia continued driving, "Can I see your science homework for Briggs' class?"

"And by that, you mean copy?"

"You know me so well." She said sweetly.

The rest of the ride to school was normal like that. We talked about stuff and she turned up the music real loud. When we got to River Side High School, we searched for a spot in the parking lot. River Side is a big school in New York. You could easily get lost. I thought the school looked beautiful; white brick building with flowers around it.

One day, I want to build something like that. Something permanent. I kind of had this dream to be an architect one day. I love drawing and constructing. I don't like to admit it, but most of the Legos laying on the floor of the living room, are mine.

Finally, after minutes of looking for a good spot, we found one. But just as Thalia was turning to park, a shiny, pink Porsche beat her to it.

"Great." Thalia muttered.

I knew why. There was only one person in this school who could afford such an expensive (and girly) car.

Rachel Dare, ladies and gentlemen. My red-headed nightmare.

But, seriously, who has a pink Porsche? It's like a freakin' Barbie car.

"HEY!" Thalia yelled. "Dare! You took our spot!"

Rachel got out of her car. She was dressed in too-short pink dress, showing way too much. Rachel was known as a 'popular.' I hated her. Everyone did. But she acts like she's a queen because her daddy owns, like, half of New York's hotels. She thinks she's better than everyone. I can't stand people like her.

"Oops." Rachel said, in her high-pitch voice. "I guess you should've drove faster." She flipped her frizzy, red hair.

"I guess you want a black eye." Thalia retorted with clenched teeth.

"Thalia," I whisper, "Calm down." I love Thalia, but sometimes she has a bad temper.

"Listen to your freak, Goth girl." Rachel smirked.

By this, Thalia unbuckled her seat belt, opened and slammed the door, and walked up to Rachel with fiery eyes. "What did you say, Dare?" Thalia threatened.

I sighed and got up to break this up. "Thals, stop it." I said.

She looked at me, then at Rachel. It looked like she was about to say something, but she got interrupted by another voice I hated oh-so much.

"C'mon, babe, let's go."

My fists clenched automatically. Of course, why didn't I remember? Rachel's boy toy. Percy Jackson.

I hated that kid with all my heart. We've known each other since kindergarten, and he picks on me everyday, all the time. I don't why he bullies me. But ever since we were 5, he put gum in my hair, spilled apple juice on me, and played multiple other pranks over the years.

Percy had raven black hair and sea green eyes. He is like every other jock you see in those TV shows about high school dramas; popular, captain of the swim team, and has a girlfriend.

Talk about clichéd.

Rachel grinned her wicked grin, "Coming, sweetie." Then she walked over to Percy, grabbed him, and kissed him full on the mouth. Gross.

Thalia and I exchanged disgusted looks.

"Let's go back to the car," Thalia murmured, "We still have to find a spot."

I nodded and we left the 2 lovebirds making out.

When we got in the car, I saw that Percy was trying to get Rachel off of him. When he succeeded, he got in front of Thalia's car.

"What?" Thalia spat.

Percy shrugged, "Just wanted to say hey."

"Hey." She answered fiercely.

Percy turned to me and smirked, "Hey, Annie."

"Don't call me that." I said as calmly as I could. "Get out our way."

"All you have to do is say 'hey' and I'll get out of your way." He said simply.

I took a deep breath and glared at him, "Hey."

"Hmmm…" Percy scratch his chin, as if he was thinking. "I don't think that was a very friendly 'hey.'"

I was about to reply to that when Thalia beat me to it. "Move, or I run you over."

Percy chuckled, and put his hands up, "That's not so nice, cuz."

Oh, did I mention that Percy is Thalia's cousin?

I can't believe it myself.

"Just move." Thalia said again.

Percy sighed, "Fine, fine." Then he turned back to Rachel who was texting on her phone, "C'mon, babe. Let's get to class." He put his arm around Rachel's waist.

Just as he was about to walk away, he turned around and yelled, "Cya, Annie." He winked at me.

"Sorry about my cousin," Thalia said. "He's an ass."

I laughed, "No kidding."

We found another parking space and got out of the car.

"I just don't get why he's like that. Why is he such a jerk?" I tell Thalia once we were in the hallways, opening our lockers.

"Who knows."