Prologue
A/N: I SUCK AT PERCY'S POV! So, just for the prologue, it'll be his POV, and the rest of the chapters will be 3rd person. I'm so sorry if this sucks! Don't judge too soon and keep reading, please!
The chapters have the introduction to the story before the actual first. It may be a little tedious, but I feel it important to the integrity of the story.
True PJO fans go get "The Last Olympian" and turn the last page. Then read the first line of my fic.
For once, I didn't look back.
And my new life began. I was still Percy Jackson, son of Posiedon, hero of Olympus, camper at Camp Half-Blood, best friend to Grover Underwood, Nico di Angelo, and Rachel Elizabeth Dare. Only...things had changed. My best friend became my girlfriend, Rachel became the Oracle, Nico got a cabin, Grover was a member of the Council of Cloven Elders, and the gods couldn't avoid their children anymore. All in all, it seemed infinitely different from the other life I'd had. So I named it my new one--the one that began when I raced my former best friend, current girlfriend, down the hill to the road...and lost.
The two weeks we had before that race, though, had been incredible. I was still adjusting to the fact that the girl who had stolen my heart a number of summers ago had returned those feelings for me...or at least really liked kissing me. Which I didn't mind in the least.
We spent warm afternoons on the bottom of the lake, staring up at the watery sky, her head on my chest. And nothing could have been more perfect. And then I found out she was staying in New York for the school year. We were both going to be Sophmores--me at Goode, her at some boarding school in NYC. She was 6 miles and twenty minutes away if Paul let me use his car.
This year was going to be different. It was going to be good. I could feel it.
I had hesitantly kissed her goodbye when my mom came to pick me up. She'd rolled her eyes at me. "She probably knows already, anyway, Seaweed Brain," Annabeth told me. And I'd figured she was right, so had scooped her into my arms and given her a kiss that made my brain cells jumble.
"'Bye, Wise Girl," I'd whispered, chucking her chin. "See you soon."
Now I was sitting in class, staring at the letters rearrange themselves on the board, and sighing. Two more classes after this one. I was going to kill someone if I didn't get out of here soon.
The bell rang and I shuffled out of class to my locker. And that's when it happened. It wasn't my fault I got detention, really. The kid was getting bullied, plus, he made some...unwelcome comments. It's not my fault the idiot doing it bled easily.
A Freshman was pressed against the lockers and a big guy in a football jacket that resembled a gorilla was holding him there. After a few words with the guy, he pushed him onto the floor.
"Hey--what do you think you're doing?" I asked him.
He looked at me, blonde hair falling onto his forehead lazily. "Who wants to know?"
"You can't do that," I told him, standing my ground. I went over to the horizontal boy and offered him a hand. Eyes flitting around, he accepted it and stood. When I looked back at the bigger boy, I crossed my arms. "If you got a problem with my friend, here, you got a problem with me."
"You weren't the one looking at my girlfriend." Gorilla Boy gestured over his shoulder. The girl was hispanic, skinny to the point of disease, wearing too much makeup, and a cheerleading uniform. She was standing with her one hand on her hip and the other near her face so she could examine her nails.
"I'm sure he didn't mean to, man. Right?" I looked next to me, to the Freshman whose eyes were now glued to his shoes.
"No way, man. I wasn't looking at her."
I smiled up at Gorilla Boy. "So we don't have a problem."
He grunted. I turned, not realizing my backpack was open and a picture was tumbling to the ground. As I was introducing myself to Eric, the Freshman who had nearly been killed, I heard whistles coming from behind me.
I was facing the football player again. In his hands was a 5" by 8" photograph.
"Hey, give that back!" I shouted. Anger flared inside of me, and suddenly, the idiot didn't look so tall anymore. In fact, we were about the same height.
"Wow, this girl is smoking," one of the two jocks standing next to Gorilla Boy said. "There's no way this is his girlfriend."
"Nah, I bet she's just easy," the other said. That made me clench my fists. Annabeth Chase? Easy? Not in a million years.
"Or this guy's really got some mad pick up lines." Stuttering didn't count, did it?
Then, the cheerleader took a look at it and laughed. "Are you kidding? She's not even pretty!"
I don't hit girls. Even during Capture the Flag and training, I try my hardest not to hurt them, but still win. I know it's training, but in a real battle, I wouldn't hold back against a girl. So, I couldn't really slug the chick because this wasn't battle, but then her boyfriend said, "Ya know, if she was wearing less clothes, she'd be gorgeous." I'm adlibbing because of his language.
And suddenly red flashed in front of my eyes and I was standing with my hand fisted in his shirt and my knuckles bloody, his nose broken, and my cheek bruised from his fist. I snatched the picture back from the other guy's hand and had begun to walk away before I heard,
"Perseus Jackson!"
Great.