The Final Ingredient (On Hold Until Further Notice)

Chapter 2: So NOT My Fault It Burned Down

Chapter 2: So NOT My Fault It Burned Down

Author's Note: This story is dedicated to Kerabithajoni. Congratulations! You answered the question right! I know you got the dedication for the last chapter, but you were the only one to get the question right. And for you guys out there reading this author's note, you do know that you can still answer the question even though someone else had answered it, right? Also...

Disclaimer: I do not own Spiderman or the Spiderman theme song. Or Hello Kitty. Also, I do not own most of the characters in this story. They belong to Rick Riordan. Sadly... (*sigh*) But, I DO own a couple characters like Kaitlyn, though. BTW, I forgot to put this one on the last chapter, but I do not own James Bond.

WARNING: Even though some of the chapters in this story may turn out to be somewhat decent, there are times when I get writer's block and then the chapter turns out all...wonky. (Isn't that a funny word? "Wonky?") If you don't like this chapter, just remember: I tried. I still hope that there's a small chance that you'll enjoy the story! :D

Kaitlyn's POV

                Now onto the actual “school” part of the day. Which you guys have probably been waiting for. At least, I'm guessing. Am I right, though? (Voice in the background: Just get on with the story!) Fine! Yeesh…Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. You know, I actually don’t get that statement. Is there a right side of the bed? Because if there is, I need to learn to always sleep on that side…

                The walk to school is only 10 minutes. On a good day. 15 minutes on a slow day. Most people I know would complain, but it's not half bad. Time goes by pretty fast. At least, it does for me. I don't know about you people. I just love breathing in the fresh air, especially when it's the morning. It helps clear my head. The smell of dew on the grass, the feel of the gentle wind caressing my cheek. The perfect weather of spring turning into summer, but not summer just yet. There's nothing I love more than a walk in the morning. Except for sleep. And chocolate. I LOVE chocolate. It's like heaven...

                Anyways...The school loomed above the trees. That's right...trees. My school isn't in the middle of the city, like most others. It's a boarding school surrounded by the woods. The smell of pine needles is one of the best smells in the world. But chocolate is better. WAY better. (Voice in the background: Shut up about chocolate! I don't freakin’ care!) Now that's just plain rude. If you keep talking like that, then maybe I'll KEEP talking about chocolate! (Silence...) Humph! That's more like it. Where was I...yeah, the smell of pine trees. The sound of the river rushing past the school. The place is amazing! You wouldn't think for a second that maybe the kids attending the school are troubled...Oh yeah! I never told you about the place yet! (*Facepalmed*)

                You probably heard of the place before. It's called the Yancy Academy, a private school for troubled kids. The name kind of weirds me out, honestly. A couple years ago, I've read this book series--yes, I CAN read. Don't look so surprised--called "Percy Jackson and the Olympians" and in the first book, the main character, Percy,--obviously; you can tell from the series title--had gone to a school called the Yancy Academy. It weirded me out that the place actually existed. And if it did, does that mean everything written in those books were real? That the monsters are possibly out there and can kill us? It makes me shiver every time I think about it.

                Most people freak out over the whole "troubled kids" part, but I don't really care. I've been to other schools for troubled kids. And NO, I am not a troubled kid. Not that I know of anyway. The only reason my dad took me here was because I was running out of places to go and my school record had a lot of bad stuff written on there. Like, lighting a bunch of stuff of fire...you know. The usual. So most people had directed my dad to schools for troubled kids.