Author's note: Helloooooooo, people of Earth and beyond! Thank you so much for clicking on my story, it means a lot! Keep in mind this is my first fanfiction, so I'm sorry if it sucks.

So! Without further ado, let's get this party started!

Disclaimer: Do I look like a middle-aged man to you? No. So I'm not rick Riordan. Got that?

Chapter 1: Rebecca's POV

Being a demigod sucks. It really, really, sucks.

Of course, I'm not a solid half god, I'm 1/4 and 1/4, my parents being Percy and Annabeth Jackson, but you've heard of them, obviously. So, 1/4 and 1/4 equals 1/2; it's basic fractions.

Anyway, being a demigod isn't all it's cracked up to be. I mean, sure, there's epic sword battles, supernatural powers, and some of the coolest architecture known to man, but... sorry, what was I talking about? Oh yeah, the bad side. Monsters. Monsters try to track you down and kill you, which I can guarantee is not pleasant.

And then there's the ADHD. My goody-two shoes brother Luke skipped over that gene and is the most patient person in the world.

But not me. It made school absolutely most classes, I sneak a Nintendo DS under my desk and still manage to make all A's. But hey, that's normal, right? No? Oh, Luke says it's not. Don't listen to him. He's just jealous that he has to study. Hey, it pays being the grandchild of Athena.

Lastly, there's the Dyslexia. Ugh. That used to be horrible. Though, after reading enough text in video games and lots of practice, it started to get better.

Speaking of video games, that's exactly what I was doing on the last of my Freshman year. Playing video games. Not that it was different than any other day of school.

The itch to get out of school and back to the best place in the world - Camp Half-Blood - made me even more ADHD than normal, which was saying something. For my last class, I had Architecture. Booooooooooring. For starters, it was just a bunch of dusty old buildings and windows and doors with a bunch of fancy-schmancy decorations on them. To make it interesting, I added a nacho bar to everything I designed. Yeah, Mrs. Jackson didn't like that too much. Oh, did I mention that my mom was my Architecture teacher? Sorry.

It was weird having my mom as one of my teachers. She made me call her Mrs. Jackson, and I didn't get special treatment. I mean, that's the only bright side to this, right? Wrong. Couldn't be wronger. If anything, I had to work harder, because she expected me to be just like her.

And that's another thing! People expect me to be like my mom, just because I look like her. It's annoying! Seriously people, one-track mind much?

Anyway, ranting aside... what was I talking about?

Right, Architecture. Boring me to death. Nacho bar. Annoying brothers. Wait, I didn't get to that part yet. Let's go from there. Architecture was the only class I shared with the most annoying person in the world, Luke Jackson. A.K.A: My twin brother. Why is he annoying, you ask?

Don't even get me started.

Everyone assumed he was going to be like Dad, with his stupid windswept black hair and stupid naturally tan skin (His glasses kind of ruin it, though). In reality, he was more like a dictator. He would tell me when to go to bed (I didn't listen), when to do my homework (I really didn't listen), and to stop playing video games during class (That was just going too far).

Which brings us to the start of our tale, me sitting bored out of my mind in 7th period, sneaking my GBA under the desk while Luke shot me disapproving looks from across the aisle, which I ignored.

My mom- sorry, Mrs. Jackson- was giving a long speech about how architecture got a lot harder in 10th grade; we're going to have to work harder if we're serious about this class; blah, blah, blah. I mean , I love my mom, but she was just too hard on us sometimes.

The bell rang- Finally!- and everyone's papers flew into the air just like in High School Musical. How would I know that? That's what happens when you have an 11 year-old sister named Sophie.

I packed my notebooks without looking up from the GBA. Naturally, my backpack was already a pigsty, so that didn't make much difference.

The blonde boy next to me glanced at my GBA curiously. Something about him seemed a bit...off. He had only arrived at this school a week ago, which was strange. I didn't even know his name. The only thing I knew was that he had a twin sister who arrived at the same time he did, though they looked nothing alike.

Finally, the blonde boy said something to me. "What game is that?" He asked.

I looked up for the first time in at least an hour. His eyes seemed to be an electric blue, but then started shifting as soon as I looked at them. Soon they were green, then hazel, then then brown, and back to blue again.

"Uh...sorry, what...?" I stammered, getting distracted by his eyes.

He chuckled. "I asked what game you were playing."

"Oh, yeah...uh, Pokemon Emerald...?" I managed, not knowing whether to like this guy or not.

"Cool! What part are you on?" The mystery boy seemed to genuinely care about the game. Yup, I liked him.

"I'm battling Norman right now," I responded. I could see Luke waiting at the door for me, but I didn't really care.

"Are you winning?" He asked curiously.

"No," I said bluntly.

"No fighting type?"

"Nope."

"That sucks." Mystery boy stood up, and I finally got a good look at his clothes. He had on a normal light blue shirt, but his pants... don't get me started. He was wearing red skinny jeans. Red. Skinny. Jeans. A fifteen-year old boy wearing Red. Skinny. Jeans. They were,by far, the gayest pants I had ever seen.

"Becca?" Luke called back to me. "You coming?"

"Yeah," I responded, shouldering my messenger bag.

"The name's Caleb, by the way!" Mystery boy yelled to me as I walked out the door.

"Rebecca! See ya, gay pants!" I quickly hopped out of the classroom before he could react.

Waiting for me outside the classroom was my bestest friend in the whole wide world, Maple Underwood. Being half-satyr, she was also my and Luke's protector and had small protruding from her head, which were covered by a black beanie she always wore over her curly brown hair.

"What's up, mah peeps?" Maple greeted us. she was also more 'tough chick' than i ever could imagine coming from Uncle Grover.

Luke flinched. "Don't call me that."

I grinned. "Loosen up, goody-two shoes," I remarked while leaning over to unbutton the top button of his polo shirt. He slapped my hand away.

"I am loose, thank you very much," he snapped.

"Whatever you say, tight pants," Maple retorted. "Anyway,' she continued, "aren't you guys gonna wait for your mom?"

"Nah, she's got work to do," Luke answered. "We're going over to do Dad's."

Our dad didn't work at any fancy aquarium like some people thought he did. He was just a normal swim instructor at the Youth Center on 86th Street. It wasn't a glamorous job for a son of Poseidon, but it made him happy.

We made our way towards the Youth Center, our school only being a few streets uptown. The three of us just strolled along the streets of New York City, which drove me crazy. I was not a strolling type of person, especially when my summer vacation was ahead of me. But, I was a good girl, mostly due to the fact that Luke would kill me if I ran off.

"So," I started, trying to distract myself, "Where are your parents, Maple?"

"Dad's already at Camp, and Mom is, of course, still in her tree," She answered.

"So you're coming to Camp with us?" Luke asked.

Before Maple could reply, she stopped dead in her tracks, eyes wide like a deer in headlights.

We were walking on the sidewalk adjacent to Central Park, the breeze made by passing cars ruffling the leaves. in that moment, time seemed to freeze. No cars were passing, and nobody was on the sidewalks with us. The birds stopped chirping, the noises of the busy city seemed to disappear. Maple was gazing intently at a gap between the trees of the park. My eyes followed hers, finding nothing of interest in the trees.

"What are you-" I started to say, only to be interrupted by Maple.

"Follow me," she commanded sharply, then dashed across the road, not even looking for traffic.

"Maple!" I shouted, exasperated.

"You are going to get yourself killed!" Luke scolded.

"Just follow me!" Maple called back over her shoulder.

I shrugged and sprinted after her, anxious for some action.

"Rebecca Marie Jackson, where are you going?!" My idiot brother cried after me.

As usual, I ignored him.

"UGH! You people are driving me insane!" He yelled before he followed us into the woods.

Luke and I accompanied Maple into the most secluded part of the trees until she stopped dead in her tracks in the middle of a small clearing. Her eyes were no longer wide and fearful, but narrow and fierce.

"Maple, what's going on?" I asked shakily.

"Get out your weapons," She ordered.

Sensing danger, I pulled the hair tie out of my braid, letting the hair fall loose. I stretched the tie as if I were about to thwack someone, triggering the transformation into a celestial bronze sword.

Luke pulled the bookmark from the thick book he always had tucked under his arm and twirled it between his fingers, summoning a bronze scythe.

Maple extracted a barrette from her mop of hair, turning it into a mace with a simple band of the plastic.

So there we stood, in a triangle, backs against each other's, prepared for the worst. the horrible silence was back, only the rustling of the leaves to keep us company.

Finally, a voice spoke.

"I've been expecting you..."

Woohoo, Cliffhanger! Those are always fun, right? Not.

Sorry if it's short, short chapters are just easier to write. But, i promise they'll get longer! Probably. Maybe. Maybe not. Possibly. Okay, probably not. I'll just end the chapter whenever I feel like is a good stopping point, sound good?

This chapter's kinda boring, but it'll get more exciting in future chapters, 'kay?

So, who's this Caleb guy? Why are his pants so stupid? What's the voice at the end of the chapter? How can a Satyr and a Dryad have children? (I have no idea about the last one.) Tell me what you think! Review! Reviewing is fun!

And remember, ALL FLAMES WILL BE USED TO ROAST MARSHMALLOWS AND TO MAKE S'MORES TO GIVE TO THE NICE REVIEWERS. Criticism is appreciated!

Merry Christmas!

Leo: And a happy New Year!

Me: Go away Leo, you're not even in this story.