Aquaphobia (Percy Jackson Fic)

Youth

A/N: I figured I should release more than one chapter to engage people a bit, so here we go, another chapter. I put a video of a dance, I will tell you when to play it. The quality starts out bad, but it gets better, I promise.

Disclaimer: As much as I wish I did, I don't own the Percy Jackson franchise. I only own any characters I create and most of the plot line.

I wake up suddenly to the sound of my alarm going off. I quickly turn it off before it can wake my mum. I slide out of bed slowly, and softly walk towards the bathroom, avoiding the squeaky tiles. I quickly take a shower, shuddering at the feeling of water on my skin. I glance over at the counter, seeing many empty boxes of hair dye strewn across it. My mum is always trying to dye my hair, but it never sticks. I am stuck with this cursed blue hair. I quickly get dressed, combing out my hair to let it air dry. I move into the kitchen and begin to cook breakfast. I make simple eggs and bacon, before making myself a plate. I eat quickly before returning to my room to pack my bag and brush my teeth. I hear my mums banging footsteps in the hall, and rush to greet her in the kitchen. "Good morning Mum" I say, as I fix her a plate. She waves me off and starts on her food. I move towards the door, intending to leave for school, when she speaks "Aria?" I nervously turn towards her, wondering if I had already managed to do something wrong today. "Yes Mum" I gulp.

"I want you home right after dance today"

"Of course, Mum" I sigh, feeling relief. I have been dancing ever since I was little. It makes me feel free.

I rush out of our apartment and onto the streets of San Francisco. I walk a few blocks to the closest subway stop. After scanning my metro card, I board the blue line, and stand holding a pole. I go down two stops before switching lines. I get a seat on this one. Finally, after many stops, I exit the subway and make my way up to the street. My school is only a block away now, and I quickly jog so I can miss the rush of drop off students.

I move through the hallways, waving at the occasional student or teacher, but for the most part, keeping to myself. I make it to my locker, and prepare myself to open it. I open the locker and the usual notes fall to the floor. The notes were put there by none other than Gianora Vincent and her friends. As far as I can remember, Gianora has hated me. I used to fight back to her. To try and put her in her place, but eventually I gave up. I put the notes in the front pocket of my school bag, intending to read them later. I look into my locker and see my dance bag squished in the top, blocking some books. I sigh and move it out of the way, grabbing the textbooks I need for my first few lessons. Then I close my locker, put on a brave face, and head to class.

🌀 🌀 🌀 🌀 🌀

The first part of my day goes quickly, with me darting from class to class. Soon it is lunch, one of the worst parts of my day. I walk slowly into the cafeteria, keeping my head down as I get in the lunch line. I walk up to the counter and get some mac and cheese and an apple. After paying, and thanking the lunch lady, I make my ways towards the doors, wanting to escape to eat my lunch outside. I am not that lucky. I am stopped by none other than Gianora. She looks at me with a smirk, which soon morphs into a look of disgust. "Are you really going to eat that? You are already a little idiotic blue haired freak; do we need to add fat to the list." I look down at my food, no longer feeling hungry. I pick up my apple, and give the rest of my tray to the garbage can. Gianora puts on a fake smile "Good girl." She proceeds to shove me into a table and walk away. I slowly make my way out of the cafeteria. I look at the apple and smile. She is right, I wouldn't want to be fat too. I am already dyslexic and have ADHD. In other words, my grades are mediocre. Gianora has straight A's. Gianora is pretty and slim. I may not be able to do anything about my grades, but maybe if I am prettier she will stop.

🌀 🌀 🌀 🌀 🌀

The end of the day can't come soon enough, but eventually it does, and I rush to my locker to get my dance bag. At school, I am a dumb nobody, but at dance, I am a somebody. People say I move with the same grace as waves on the shore, and my emotions come through as intense as a storm at sea. I always shudder at the comparison, but take the compliment nonetheless.

I arrive at dance, and quickly change into a black leotard with pale pink tights and a blue wrap top and skirt. I head into the studio to warm up. I am early, so I take the time to stretch. I have always been naturally flexible, splits coming easily. I set myself up in an over split while bending backwards, touching my head to the back of my knee. I do this with my other leg, before moving into middles. Once I have done my splits, I start to practice some different jumps and gymnastic moves, getting myself nice and warm for class.

After about 20 minutes, other students start to trickle into the room, before Madame Genevieve comes in and closes the door. Madame Genevieve is a small woman, but is thin as a twig. She has wispy light blonde hair with a few streaks of gray. She has blue eyes with a fire behind them. She is a very harsh teacher, but she cares for us dancers, and pushes us to be the best she can be. "Good afternoon dears" she says as she grabs her cane from beside the door. "Good afternoon Madame" we say in unison curtsying. We go through a typical class with drills before we head to the front to watch our different routines. I watch solos, small groups, and perform the group number before it is my turn. Me and my partner, Alexander, head out in front of everyone and take our positions, waiting for the music to start.

(Play video now)

The dance tells the story of two lovers. The girl is madly in love, but the boy keeps pushing her away. We dance to youth by daughter, putting our all into the performance. We end with my legs around Alexanders waist, leaning back, while Alexander holds me up by my bun. It is silent for a moment before the class breaks into applause. Even Madame Genevieve gives us a quick clap which never happens. I smile wide as Alexander releases me and helps me down. I am on cloud nine. They accept me here. Here my ADHD is a good thing, I can channel that energy into something productive. Here I am not the dumb blue haired freak. Here I am Aria, the elegant dancer.

A/N: There we go. Any feedback would be appreciated, just please don't be mean. Do you guys like it so far? Do you have any suggestions on who should take her to Camp Half Blood? I have an idea, but I would love to hear what you guys think.

Stay whelmed!