Annabeth's head is on fire. She rolls to the edge of the bed, reaching for her alarm clock and becoming further entangled in her sheets. Damn, she slept until noon.

Annabeth doesn't like sleeping in. It only confirms that she is, in fact, lazy and irresponsible. When did that happen? She'd always been the levelheaded one. Now it hurts to think. Hell, it hurts to simply open her eyes. The light makes her nauseous.

But she's gotta get up. C'mon, Annabeth, she thinks. You've had worse hangovers.

Yep, that's it. She's so so so hungover, which is a little worse than so so hungover, but a bit better than so so so so hungover. She has to hold back a laugh at the thought; can't risk throwing up whatever she drank last night. The carpet may have been thrifted from the Salvation Army, but she isn't about to cover it in regurgitated booze.

She finally takes the leap and pushes herself up and out of bed.

That's it. She's done it again. She's out of bed, ready to start a new day. Whatever happened last night happened. She's a new bitch today, and this bitch needs caffeinated.

She's also naked. Evidently, Past Annabeth was horny.

Present Annabeth takes in a sharp breath through her teeth. This could have some serious consequences for Future Annabeth.

What's that on the floor? A life preserver?

Shit.

It's all coming back to her now. Last night the theme at the club was 'the 80s.' She'd been super proud of her outfit: a Top Gun pilot. The proof is right there: Her bomber jacket is still in a heap on the floor and her aviator sunglasses lay carefully on the nightstand. At least Past Annabeth took care of her nice things.

Oh, and then she met Marty McFly, or rather, a guy dressed as the protagonist from Back to The Future. Annabeth loves Back to The Future, and she'll even admit she had a crush on Michael J. Fox when she was eleven.

She talked to Marty for most of the night, and they took turns buying drinks. Annabeth recalls that he was impressed with her ability to hold her alcohol. Little did he know she was blackout drunk for most of the encounter. That didn't stop them from making out on the dance floor though.

She gets secondhand embarrassment thinking about that part (she can't get firsthand embarrassment if she hadn't even been fully present when she stuck her tongue down his throat). Had she really let him touch her like that in front of everyone, or is she just imagining things now?

Annabeth finds a blue flannel shirt on the floor that definitely isn't hers. Marty McFly must have left it there last night. That means it's fair game, right? One thing Annabeth likes about having frequent one-night-stands is other people's clothes. They always smell so good, like getting a hug.

The shirt is plenty long enough to cover her butt, so she slips a fresh pair of panties on and discards the other clothes in the hamper. Now they're Future Annabeth's problem. She's not quite sure what to do with Marty McFly's bright orange vest. That can also be Future Annabeth's problem.

Present Annabeth's most pressing issue now, however, is the very naked man in the kitchen.

"Mornin'," he greets her, taking a sip from her favorite "#1 Daughter" mug. Her friend Piper had bought it for her as a joke for her birthday one year... Damn, when was the last time she actually saw Piper?

"Thank goodness," Annabeth says. "I was worried you'd be ugly." The sound of her voice, hoarse from who-knows-what, bounces around in her cranium.

He smirks. "Nice to see you too. Coffee?"

"Most of the people I sleep with just leave after the sex part." Annabeth happily takes the coffee, even though it's in her roommate's mug.

"Maybe I'm just a different kind of guy," Marty McFly says. "Oh, I brought in your mail. Looks like you got a package."

Yes! The package! Annabeth has to reach across the kitchen table, surely exposing herself in the process, but nevertheless, she's finally holding her precious package.

"If this is what I think it is, I've been waiting on this forever!" she beams. "I could've ordered it on Amazon and gotten it in a few days, but this business was donating proceeds to LGBT charities, so I had to support, ya know?"

Annabeth tears the package open with a butterknife and pulls out her new favorite thing: an enormous pink, purple, and blue striped flag.

Marty McFly furrows his eyebrows. "What's that for?"

"It's a bisexual pride flag. Now my roommate and I have something to hang outside. The people renting the space next door have a massive Trump banner out front, so we thought it was only right for us to have a flag too."

"So," Marty starts, "You're into guys and girls?"

"Yep."

Marty chews his lip as if this is somehow a hard concept to grasp. "Like, you want to have sex with girls too?"

There are so many places this conversation can go from here. Annabeth has pretty much heard it all. Some highlights: the people who've informed her that she'll go to Hell if she doesn't repent, people who insist that she looks very straight-

"Have you ever thought about threesomes? I mean, I've been hooking up with this girl on and off and we've been wanting to try it out and you seem like-"

"Get the fuck out of here," Annabeth says. "Now."

That's probably one of her least favorite reactions. The thing about straight people is that they assume she's inherently promiscuous. There's nothing wrong with promiscuous people; Annabeth thinks everyone should be able to do whatever the fuck they want. The thing is though, Annabeth isn't like that, and all too much, people assume she is. It makes hooking up particularly difficult.

As if being a demigod isn't hard enough.

Annabeth brews another pot of coffee while Marty McFly goes back to the bedroom and gathers his clothes (with the exception of the flannel Annabeth's wearing; she's pretty scary right now).

Marty McFly emerges at last, and Annabeth can't be bothered to learn his actual name as she opens the door and gestures for him to leave. Tail tucked between his legs, he steps out onto the porch, and Annabeth slams the door behind him.