Camp Half-Blood (A Percy Jackson Fanfic)

Chapter 1: Skyscraper

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Undergoing some serious editing to make up for some eh storytelling. Stick to reading please!!
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Ok. First day of school. First day. Eleventh grade. High school.

I chant the words like they're life to me. And they are. I have school today. It's all Aunty and Uncle's fault too.

They can't find a way to get another private tutor, and the last one I had had to go home to say goodbye to her grandmother. Allison was my only real connection to the real world too.

It's her fault she can't continue to be my private tutor anymore. Well, no it's not. It's just easier to blame her.

She's going back to Boulder for the year to stay with her grandmother who is dying. Her grandmother who is ill because of something so silly. To fix it just takes the money for it.

But she wouldn't take it. We offered our money too. But she wanted it to be her time to go. All plans out and ready to say goodbye. She wasn't in pain, so that was good.

I'd met her a few years ago, when Aunty and Uncle took me on a vacation to Boulder, we also paid for Allison's flight fee too. She was so happy when we got there, we hadn't told her the destination.

Her family was there waiting for her arrival in the airport too.

Allison's Grandmother was always cheerie, staying on the bright side of life, not getting down.

One time, I scrapped my knee running up the stairs too fast in their house, Grandmother just told me; "Oh, little soldier, we do not get injuries from practicing, but from the fight itself." I never bothered to ask her what it meant for me. And now I never will.

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I still haven't gotten dressed either.

I finally settled on trying to not look as wealthy as my parents were. After I was dressed, I looked in my giant mirror-window wall and sighed.

I still looked fricken rich. My skinny jeans looked pressed and perfect. My favorite boots had been freshly shined the day before. I didn't want them to be. But Aunty had gotten a stylist into my wardrobe. And she was appalled by the monstrosity of a walk in closet that I had.

It's not that it was big, it was, or messy either, it was the fact that I refused to own anything with a price tag bigger than twenty dollars on it. With a few exceptions. Like my boots. They were only a little bit more expensive. And with my allowance, I easily covered it.

My giant maroon sweatshirt that doubled as my shirt was already folded on my dresser. I slipped it on.

There. I was ready.

Heading downstairs to the lower level of the apartment took only a few seconds, but during that time, I found Aunty waiting there at the bottom for me. Her expression changed three times on my descent down the staircase. First it was exited, then it changed to worry, then to sorrow, and finally settled on slight disappointment.

"Why aren't you wearing the outfit Marline picked out for you? She is a personal stylist you know."

"I didn't like it. It looked too......" I struggled to find the right word. "Too flashy." And that's not really me. Her face drooped. She wanted me to look like an upper-class person. So I wouldn't get picked on at school. But no one would picked on me, not with the family name and the very well-known fortune, besides, I felt no need to change the way I dressed for complete strangers. This outfit was fine. It was me.

"Alright," she sighed, "Wear what you want."

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Uncle drove me to school, it was almost his way of saying that he was confident in my ability to survive high school.

The worst part was that all of the students would know each other. High schools didn't start in eleventh grade, they start in ninth. Everyone would know each other. Would immediately recognize a new face. But not mine. I'd be the new one, the loner I guess.

And unsurprisingly, that was completely ok with me.

I hadn't had all that many friends growing up, just some other bigwigs' kids. And I never really got close to being friends with any of them. We were usually thrust together during our parents meetings, a babysitter to make sure we didn't touch anything in the conference rooms.

I'd never really had friends before.

In New York there was always something to see, like the group of teenagers that liked to dress up as statues and stand around the cafes. I liked to see them, but then the girl with the crazy hair stopped showing up, and the some of them acted differently after that. They didn't seem to know how to be a statue anymore. Oh well.

The drive to school was only twenty minutes, the school was in one of the not-so-high-rises on the outside edge of the city. That's where Uncle and Aunty wanted to live, someplace that if you had to go anywhere you could, but also far enough away that the major city commotion wouldn't reach us here.

We got there too fast.

I wasn't ready for it. The shock of a new school. Of a school. There were kids everywhere around the block. Tall kids, short kids, fat kids, jocks, brains, preps, and the occasional goth kid too. Some of the boys looked whoa attractive, but they wouldn't know me, so none of them would talk to me.

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I was wrong. One boy did talk to me.

I had just stepped out of Uncle's car too. He zoomed off the second I got out of the car. My backpack barely handing off my shoulder.

"Hey"

I turned to look. He was a dark haired, about five inches taller than me, and was probably the hottest guy I'd ever seen. Not many guys had startling sea-green eyes. His orange t-shirt was peaking out behind a black jacket. But he was staring at me. And that was confusing.

"Hey?" I had no idea of what to say.

"I heard that you were the new student this year", he stated, "so I thought I'd show you around school". Great, a boy looking for a loan.

I tried to smile brightly, "Thanks, but I'm good." I ducked my head and tried to pass him.

He steps in front of me again. "Your name's Melanie, right?"

Go away.

Shock light up his face. My expression I guess. I immediately give an innocent smile. "Yah, that's me. Just don't ask for my last name ok?" People would hear it and immediately swarm.

"Alright." He agreed, walking with me into the school. We passed the receptionist, flashing our school ID's and made our way to the elevator, his dark hair shining in the overhead lights.

"You still haven't told me your name." I point out.

"I'm Percy. And I have exactly all of my classes with you this term." He snapped his fingers at me and wind suddenly twirled around the elevator.

"Why did you snap your fingers?" I asked him. Another shocked expression crossed his face.

"Do you remember what we just were talking about?"

"Of course, I'm not stupid," Geez he was crazy, "I asked your name, you gave it. And then you snapped your fingers after telling me that you had all of your classes with me."

He smiled to hide the prominent look of concern. It's overwhelming, his smile is too white that it's almost impossible for me not to look away that I almost miss it when he speaks. "I've got to go talk to a teacher now. You can't come."

There's no way to hide the utter not-caring expression on my face as I say; "Ok."

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He didn't show at first period, or second, or third, or any of the passing periods. And that's when I started to get confused.

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