It was like any other normal day for me. I had gotten up, gotten dressed and headed off to school. It was late winter in the big apple and I still had to wear my coat and scarf.
My boots clicked lightly on the sidewalk as I walked the last few blocks to The New York Academy of the Arts. Usually people just refer to is as NYAA (Pronounced: Nee-yah). At least, that's how the morning announcements people put it. I know, strange.
Finally, I could see it within reach, just over the slight hill in the street. It's a huge, red brick building with that 1930's schoolhouse feel to it. The outside is kept pristine, not a single weed in the gardens nor a single plant dying. Everything looks so alive on the outside, bright and brilliant. And it was the same on the inside. Each class had its own unique feel and décor to it. In NYAA you can express yourself whichever way you want—provided it isn't too "self-expressive". You know what I mean, like wearing mid-drift tops and short shorts.
The English classes have rows of bookshelves lining the walls, on a count of the fact that we don't have a library. The math rooms were filled to the brim with boxes of calculators and protractors that easily reach the low ceilings.
But still, it had a warm and inviting air about it. After all, it's been here in upper Manhattan since the 1930's… or at least almost since then… maybe a little later on. Yeah, it's definitely not that old.
As soon as I got to the enormous front steps saw my best friends, Emily Parson and Casey Passel. Casey's curly red hair popped against Emily's bleach-blonde waves. It was funny. My two best friends were total opposites. Well, basically we're all total polar opposites. There's me with my long wavy wheaty brown/blonde hair, Em with her bleach-blonde locks and Casey with her red frizz-ball made a pretty diverse-looking group of friends. I have the weirdest—although most say beautiful—gray eyes ever. They're the color of a dark grey pearl, and just as smooth-looking. Casey also has her strange specs, them being so black they're almost violet. Emily's are green, but not the same old green you'd expect. They were the color of sea foam, light and with a hint of blue. As for our skin, we all kept up with our tans and only Casey had freckles under her eyes and on her nose.
But not only are we amazingly diverse in looks, we have absolutely opposite personalities. Casey's the easy-going one, always calm during rough times. If something happens, she finds a way to relax everyone. Emily, on the other hand panics at the first sign of trouble or problems. And me, let's just say I have a pretty bad temper. My mom says I get it from her side of the family.
Emily's the "It-Girl" in school. Although, I must admit I come in at close-second. Casey doesn't really care about social status and tends to just go with the flow… as do I sometimes.
As for our personalities, it totally shows in our wardrobe. I waved up at them to see that Casey had on her usual Bohemian clothes on. Shades of brown and jade were present, along with lots of vintage jewelry. Emily flashed her bright white teeth and turned around to revel black leggings and a light pink sweater underneath a—you guessed it—pink coat.
And me, I prefer anything I like. You can't even put a name to my style. But for today I was somewhere in between preppy and casual with dark wash skinny jeans and a beige sweater, with a black patent leather bag to match the ankle boots.
"Hey!" I said, finally making it to the top of the stone stairs. They were right outside the front entrance.
"Hey! Oh I love your new bag!" Emily complimented.
I laughed and flashed a genuine smile, "Thanks! So, you guys ready for this week?" This week was immensely important. It was the week before scouting started; scouting for major dance companies, acting theatres and Record labels. They picked up in late February where they left off in November. A new circuit was starting in the world of showbiz.
"Totally," they both said in unison. The wind whipped at our faces. I felt my face going red.
"Uh—I think it's time to go inside." I suggested, looking up to see a dark snow cloud hovering over Manhattan. A blizzard seemed inevitable.
They nodded. "Yeah, sounds great." Em agreed.
We filed inside after everyone else, heading towards our lockers—which were conveniently placed in alphabetical order. Which meant it went: Parker (that's me), Parson, and Passel. That's how we got lined up in every class we had together too. It's actually how we all met.
As for the lockers, they were all utterly and completely humongous. They were all painted bright red and two feet wide by five feet high. They easily fit all of our dance bags and even had hangers for our outfit bags.
And everyone's was completely different, decorated in his or hers own style and way. And since there were only 150 of us in this whole school there was plenty room for these big lockers.
My lock clicked open after I did the combo and I grabbed my Jazz bag. Jazz class was the perfect way to start off the day. It kept my mind and body awake when I was groggy in the mornings. Sometimes it felt as though I couldn't sit still. My mom calls it ADHD. I say it's natural dancer's instinct.
"You got Jazz first, right Whitney?" Casey asked, yanking her bag out of the locker. She was taking an array of acting classes. Emily takes singing and piano.
"Yep," I confirmed, checking my phone for messages. And sure enough my Blackberry had a new message…
One New Message
From: Mommy
I mite b a bit late 2nite, b safe, I heard theres a storm brewing
I texted her back.
K.
"Oh… so you have that new assistant teacher, Ms. Danielle?" She raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah I heard about her!" Em exclaimed. "Isn't she like—a professional or something? Like she used to work for Broadway?"
"Oh yeah! Heard she's amazing!" Casey squealed back.
I left them to their girlish gossip, shouldering my bag and starting off down the hall. As I was passing by the huge window at the very end of the hallway I saw it had started to snow harder. Everyone was stopping at the glass, staring out in awe. The snow looked blinding. People were calling their parents, ready for rides home early. But I knew that we weren't getting out of school early.
Later that day I was sitting down with the girls in the cafeteria when I saw that new teacher staring at me. It was weird. She had been staring all during class too. It looked as though she wanted to… well… kill me or something.
"Hey guys… that new teacher is really freaking me out. Like, she won't stop staring at me. Even in class." They looked to where I had glance and shot their heads back.
"Okay now that is just creepy, Whitney." Emily stated. "She didn't even look away when we stared back at her."
I sighed looking up to the glass ceiling of the Café to see that it was still snowing. Hard. "Things are getting pretty strange around here… freak snow storms? Weird teachers? I don't know you guys…"
"Hey, what are you lookin' at, Passel?" An all too familiar voice came from the table beside me. Taylor Anderson, a blonde that had quite similar attributes like Emily was sneering across me at Casey. These two had been fighting since they were about five.
Emily and I usually never got involved, but I was in no mood for her smart mouth today, and you don't want to make me angry.
"Obviously not you, Anderson." I said blandly, looking up at the ceiling again.
"Excuse me?" She scoffed.
I rolled my eyes, turning my gaze back on her. "Can't you ever go a day without starting something?" I spoke my opinion. Nothing ever stopped me from doing that.
"You better watch your step, Parker." She threatened.
"And what if I don't?" I asked sarcastically.
"Or else you'll be hearing some pretty nasty things going around school… about you." She spat.
"Really? Like the stuff already going around about you?" My tone stayed cool calm and just plain bored-sounding. But she was getting angry. I could tell. And if she said the wrong thing I would unleash my anger too.
"Uhh!" She exclaimed. Her four minions snickered in the background like I was in deep shit.
Again, my sarcasm got the better of me.
"Oh. I'm so scared." It came out just the way I wanted it to, and hell did it hit the wrong note with her. She let out a frustrated huff, getting up and starting to strut off in her high heels.
And then, something strange occurred. The next thing I knew, she was on the floor unconscious. But she didn't look like she'd hit her head, she looked like she had fallen asleep.
I had no clue what happened. One minute I was staring at her, just wanting something embarrassing to happen to her… anything really…
My eyes widened…
I turned back to Casey and Emily casually. They were staring at me like I was crazy.
"What just happened?" I asked.
They shrugged and ate the rest of their lunch silently.
I was just about to round a corner to go out the doors and head home when I heard voices. Emily and Casey. They were talking in a low whispering tone, making it hard for me to hear.
"Well it's taken her long enough."
"I can't believe she lasted this long."
"Sixteen going on seventeen is old for a demi—."
"—don't! Say the word. That teacher looked at her the wrong way." Emily was talking in an unusually smart voice. Normally she would just be saying 'like' all the time.
"Yeah. We ought to check her out. She doesn't look right."
"—could be a Kindly One."
"Oh don't even say that!"
I heard footsteps nearing and hide in the nearest janitor's closet. But then, I heard something that definitely wasn't footsteps. A low growling voice that sounded like it could kill echoed through the otherwise empty hallway. I silently peeked out of the crack in the door to see Ms. Danielle cornering my two best friends into a wall.
"Where is she?" She demanded.
"She went home!" Casey choked out.
"Gamoto (Damnit) you satyrs! Where does the girl live?" He yelled. Thank god there was no one left in school. His voice was booming. Not only that, but now my best friends were being choked. The scary part was… I had understood what he said… that first word… it was foreign. But for some reason I knew it meant Damnit. But what language…?
Greek! That's it! It was Greek! But how the hell did I know that? I'm dyslectic for gods' sake! I'm not good in world languages… or English for that matter of the fact. That's why I liked dancing… no hard reading or writing.
But the words were so clear in my mind…
"Fifth avenue apartments! West side!" Emily choked out. She lied. I lived in the Manhattan Sky View Apartments… East side.
Without another word he darted down the hallway, but not before sprouting… wings?
Wait a second… Wings? What kind of insane hallucination was I having?
As soon as he was gone I emerged out of the closet. Em and Case were holding their necks.
"What the hell was that?" I exclaimed.
Their heads shot up. "And, what's a satyr? Why did that guy sprout wings? What's going on? Why did he want me?" They stared at me in shock. Pure, unfiltered shock.
"Shit." Em muttered under her breath. She exchanged a look with Casey.
I felt myself hyperventilating, fighting to keep my knees from buckling at what I just saw. I looked down at my hand. I was shaking.
"Uh… Whitney… I think it's better if we explain later…" Casey started.
"…but right now we gotta run." Em finished.
They grabbed me, basically pulling me out of the school. We moved swiftly down the stairs. I struggled to keep a hold on my bag. We burst out onto the sidewalk, which had a light coat of snow. I almost slipped a few times.
"Where are we going?" I was panicking and desperate for answers. Meanwhile I saw Casey dialing on her cell phone. "Tell me you're calling the police?" I begged.
"Uhm hi, Miss. Parker… we gotta problem." She confessed as we pushed through the crowds of Manhattan.
"You called my mother?" My voice was stressed and high-pitched.
Emily hit me on the arm, making me shut up. I had no idea what was going on. What was this? A conspiracy theory against me?
"—another one showed up… at school… okay… bye." She hung up. "Your mom's coming home. She's going to meet us at your apartment. Then you're packing and leaving."
"Woah, woah, woah! Wait a second there! I can't just leave!" I shouted. People were staring as we pushed farther through the crowd, dashing across a crosswalk—almost getting hit by a car along the way.
"Sure you can. We've made sure you can." Emily said.
"We've got lots to talk about." Casey stated.
"Wait what?" The rest of the walk—or fast walk—to my apartment was silent. All we did was basically run.
Once we got to the door I struggled to get my key into the lock. Finally I stuck the key in, from my shaky hand. I was still trembling.
We filed inside. I threw my key in the bag. Casey ran into my room. I struggled to follow her. She threw open my closet, searching for something.
"What are you doing?" I yelled. She turned around, holding my old camping backpack. It was black with yellow detailing. Such as, the zipper pulls were bright neon yellow—my favorite color.
"Put some extra clothes and stuff in here! Quick!" She threw it at me. I barely caught it by the string hanging from the strap. I stood still though, not able to get over the initial shock of all this.
"Why?" I asked plainly.
"Just do it." She commanded. The look in her eyes made me believe that this matter was life or death… or that my best friend was just plain psychotic.
And so I did. I packed a few pairs of extra shirts and pants.
Five t-shirts, a jacket (I had my coat on me now), a pair of sneakers, three pairs of jeans and one pair of jean shorts—I still don't know why I bothered to pack them, I guess I mistaken them for jeans.
I stuffed in my… uh… feminine products (plenty for the next month), a toothbrush, toothpaste, a hair brush, a mini bottle of shampoo, a few precious and sentimental pieces of jewelry and the contents of my patent leather bag into the pack.
When I zipped it and we headed out to the kitchen my mom walked in—or more of ran in—looking quite shaken.
"Whitney Virginia Parker! Sweetheart, are you okay?" She rushed over, embracing me in a hug that was so unlike my mother. I knew something was wrong when she used my full name. She'd named me after her hometown: Whitney. Her home state: Virginia (Where she won Miss. Virginia and came runner up in the Miss. USA pageant in 1985). Whitney Virginia Parker. Yep, that's me.
"Yeah mom," I shrugged her off. "But what's going on?" I sounded like a whiny seven year-old.
She glanced at Casey and Emily. "It's best if we explain in the car, dear." She stalled the explanation even further. We rushed out to the car.
Once we were in, Emily and Casey both in the back seat with me in the middle, I asked again.
"Will someone please explain what the hell is going on?" I shouted. Like I said, you don't want to get me mad.
"Honey, it's about your father." She said hesitantly. Oh great, another talk about dear old dad…
I rolled my eyes as she continued.
"He—he's not exactly normal… you see… he's a God." I stared at her for a long time. There was silence. And then—don't ask me why but—I burst out laughing. But my laughter died as Em and Case looked at me seriously. My mother gave me the look. I blinked.
"Are you kidding me? Mom, it's hard enough for me to believe that there's a god, let alone that my father is one…" I looked to my friends… "You're all going insane."
"No, Whitney. He's not the only God. He's one of twelve."
"Wait… you mean like… twelve Greek…" my voice drifted off.
"Yes, one of the Greek Gods." Casey confirmed. My mouth dropped open again. No. no way.
"Well… which one?" I asked her. She looked at me sadly.
"We won't know until you're claimed. But you're bound to be a child of someone powerful, right Miss. P?" She asked my mother. My mother didn't even know my father's name?
She nodded.
"Mom, are you saying that you don't even know my father's name?" I asked, frustrated with everything at the moment. "And… what do you mean—."
"—someone… not an Olympian… a Titan." Emily butted in.
"You mean like, the Gods that came before the Olympians?"
"Mhm," Casey said, "Those Titans."
"So we've got a hunch it's one of them." Emily admitted.
I sighed, leaning back and plopping my head against the cushion of my mom's silver Honda CR-V. I took it all in, still not believing it. I have to see to believe. This was why I was a self-proclaimed nothing-ist. I'm not atheist. But I just need an explanation for everything, which make understanding religions hard for me.
We crossed over the Washington Bridge and started over towards Long Island. It was a two hour drive. It was silent.
Once we hit a deserted old dirt road my mom started to talk again.
"Whitney… you are a demigod." She blurted out.
I stared at her. "You mean… like… half-god, half-human?"
"Correct." Casey butted in. "I see you've been paying a little more attention in English." (We had been studying The Odyssey, which led my English teacher, Mrs. Hardy, to go on a rant about Greek myths).
I nodded. "Yeah I just didn't think those lessons were life or death matters to me! But what the hell was that thing called 'Ms. Danielle' back there?" I asked again.
Emily spoke up. "That was a Kindly One."
"A Fury?" I asked.
"Shhh!" She shushed me. "We don't use names unless we absolutely have to. Got it? Names are powerful things."
"Powerful things? Are you kidding me?"
"No."
There was no sign of joking in her voice. It occurred to me that she was being dead serious. And I was still processing all of this. So if a God was my father… and I was a demigod… that would explain all the monsters… but…
"If I'm a child of someone big—like you think—wouldn't monsters be more attracted to me? Why haven't they been showing up before this?"
"They have." Casey confirmed. "We've just been killing them before they could get to you. How you made it to sixteen years old is beyond me!" She confessed.
"Yeah, most demigods are killed by fourteen." Emily mentioned.
"But your mom did an excellent job of covering up your scent. That's why your room smells different every week. She changes your scent to screw with the monsters. And then, we take care of the ones that wander upon you… it's just a miracle that we didn't have to take you to camp before this."
"Wait, what camp?" I interrupted.
"Camp Half-Blood. It's a place for kids like us."
I paused for a second, as we stopped on the side of the road.
"You mean… you guys really have…"
"Goat legs?" Emily answered, "Yeap."
"Okay, come on girls," my mom called out. We jumped out of the car, landing on the hard ground that was covered in a fresh light coat of snow. I was already cold as the freezing wind whipped my face. I felt my cheeks turning red with cold. My wheaty hair blew around wildly, whipping my face as hard as the wind.
"Honey, I won't be able to pass through the magic that protects the property line." She said. Sadness was heavy in her voice. She hugged me so tight I was losing air.
"Uhm—mom?" I choked out.
"Oh, sorry," she apologized, kissing me cheek and pulling back. "Be safe. Send me letters." She smiled.
"Okay… I love you mom." I said while she was getting into the car.
She turned her head to smile lovingly at me, as if she had a flashback of my father. "I love you too sweetheart."
We stood and watched as she pulled back onto the deserted road and headed back towards New York.
"She wanted us to give you this." Emily's voice sounded behind me. I turned around to see her holding a gold bracelet with a charm that looked like a sword. "It's a gift from your father." She dropped it in my open palm.
"Press in that little button on the sword." Casey smiled. I did. And then, it wasn't exactly little anymore. It had turned into a full-fledged sword in a matter of a few mere milli-seconds. I almost dropped it out of shock. I had never held a sword before. My eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. They grinned, arms crossed and pants off, exposing their uh, goaty-ness. At that I jumped back even more. They laughed.
Casey held out yet another bracelet with another charm on it. It was a shield. I hesitated on grabbing it from her hand, clenching my sword in the other.
"No way." I muttered. She nodded.
I pushed the button on the shield and sure enough, it came to life. It was a bronze shield with various designs on the front. I looked down at the sword. It was a bronze color and double-edged with had a brown-leather grip. There was detailing along the blade. I looked closer as my two friends watched on excitedly.
"Fine piece of craftsmanship," Casey spoke up.
Emily nodded with an, "Mhm."
And then, I heard something very unnerving. It was a sound that they heard too. Their heads perked up. We looked about the snowy white forest. There was silence again. The trees looked black against the brilliant snow that covered half the branches. I could barely tell the difference between trees and monsters. So how we were supposed to see him?
"I smell a monster." Emily warned. "Come on, let's go!" She yelled as we started to run. But running with a sword and shield was hard, even on my high-metabolizing and healthy dancer's body. But I ran as fast as I could to try and keep up with them. They were like lightning. I couldn't believe these were the same people that got excused from gym for having 'weak joints'. Hah, weak joints my ass.
My heart stopped as I heard a screech behind me. We stopped dead, turning around slowly. And sure enough, there bathing in the glow of the almost risen moon was Ms. Danielle in her Fury form. I glanced at Emily and Casey, who were staring in shock.
"How did she track us?" Emily asked, speechless.
"I have no clue but we better run!" Casey's voice had gotten increasingly panicked.
With that we darted onto the trail again, weaving through the dense collections of trees and bushes. Ms. Danielle was trying to keep up by flying, but her wings kept hitting the trees. And so she ran. I heard her screeching and screaming behind us.
"Look! There's the entrance to the camp!" Emily was pointing to an archway that said Ήμισυ Αίμα Στρατόπεδο (Half blood Camp)
"Come on!" Casey yelled over the monster's screeching. We ran as fast as we could, but just as we were about to cross the border line I got tripped by a clawed foot. My first instinct was to swing the sword. But I missed. I held the shield up as his claws scratched against it and tried to swing again. But just as I hit her, she hit me too, with a blow to the mid-section. I keeled over in pain as she slowly faded to dust, disappearing with the wind.
I fully collapsed just as Casey and Emily ran over to me. I felt the warmth of blood seeping through my black coat. They picked me up and I yelped in pain. My hand clutched the three big gashes in my abdomen. They weren't deep, but I was bleeding a lot, I could tell.
"Come on, we have to get her to the big house. Chiron will be there." Their voices weren't clear. Everything sounded as if I was being held underwater. My eyesight got blurry, but I wasn't fainting. No, I wasn't passing out yet.
But were they talking about the Chiron? The one from the story of Hercules and everything? My mind was spinning, my head throbbing. I don't know how long it took us to get to 'the big house', but they got me there.
I listened carefully to the conversation.
"Chiron!" Emily shouted. "Mr. D!"
I heard two grumbled, 'what's?
And then, one voice got increasingly more concerned. I heard a gasp from a third person.
"There was a Fury, except this time it tracked us. Chiron it was in the school." Casey said solemnly. I felt them laying me on a bed, and taking off my coat and scarf. I still clutched my side. I saw five figures now: Emily and Casey, an old-looking bearded man, another guy with a chubby face and dark curly hair, and a younger kid with short blonde hair. I couldn't make out all the features, but I knew he was young and those other two men were pretty old.
Chiron reached down a pulled my hand away from the gashes. I winced and made a noise. The blonde one reached down and put a hand to my forehead.
"She's getting cold." His voice was so soothing at that moment in time. It was unlike the worried, scruffy voice of the bearded man's and not overly-stressed like my friends'. It almost calmed me down a bit, until I figured out what that meant: I was losing blood. Fast.
"Quick, get some…" I have no clue what items he said, but they sounded Greek. But by that time I was nearing a total blackout.
I felt my shirt being lifted up. Oh great, now they get to look at my abs. Two old guys and—what looks like—a pretty cute boy are going to get a great look at me.
The blonde one and my friends sucked in a breath at my injury.
The last thing I remembered was seeing a worried look on that boy's face.
Luke stared down at the injured girl. There were three pretty nasty-looking cuts on her stomach. They weren't that deep. But he could tell that they hurt.
Without thinking he touched the scar on his face, knowing full well that the girl would have the same scars for a long time before they started to disappear. It was sad too, because had there not been three big gashes there she would have looked like a Goddess herself. Of course, all half-bloods have immortal beauty, but everyone's different with their beauty. And this girl, could even possibly top Aphrodite's kids. Her hair was a wheaty light brown and so soft when he touched it. He didn't get a good look at her eyes, but he caught a glimpse of them. They were gray, but not the gray you would expect. They weren't gray like his friend, Annabeth's. Hers were stormy and unclear. This girl had light gray eyes the likeness of pearls. The Irises looked smooth. And, her face was immaculate, no scars or acne. Nothing. The skin was pure and glowing a light tan shade.
"Is she gonna make it, Luke?" Emily asked him. He had just helped Chiron bandage her and give her some Ambrosia. She was sound asleep now, eyelids not even twitching.
He nodded, sitting back in his chair beside the bed. Her friends were sitting opposite from him on the other side. "Yeah, she'll be fine… it'll take her a few days to recover though."
This girl was tough though, he could tell. And somehow she reminded him of Thalia. She was strong, and didn't even blackout right away. She fought it, that's for sure. Her hair was lighter and brownish, unlike Thalia's black hair… and it was worn long and wavy… unlike Thalia's black spikes that came to just above her shoulders.
"What's her name again?" He asked Emily and Casey. They looked at each other.
"Well, her real name is Whitney—Whitney Parker."
He smiled, "Oh."
Whitney Parker… quite a strong girl.