Look, I never wanted to be a half-blood, but it's pretty clear that we don't really get to decide things like this.

If you are one, say hi to a brand-new life filled with monsters, rogue demigods and PTSD from fighting monsters and rogue demigods. And to top it all off, until you're twelve years old, you believe that you're hallucinating the monsters and gods following you around all your life because mortals can't see all that crap.

Unfortunately, sometimes the gods forget to give you that little "heads up" they're supposed to when you're twelve and you might end up scared and confused when the monsters decide that they had enough with all the waiting and go in for the kill. Gods, if you're reading this, then I suggest you give a little warning.

Okay, I'm done ranting for now.

My name is Peter Johnson, I'm twelve years old and until a couple of months ago, I was a boarding student for troubled kids in Yancy Academy, a school for troubled kids in upstate New York.

Now, I'm not a troubled kid. I never gave anyone a reason to think that I'm a troubled kid. But, for some reason, I got sent there. The reason being that my entire short, miserable life sucks majorly.

I can start at any point of my life to explain why it sucks, but things got real bad when our sixth-grade class took a field trip to Manhattan, meaning that there were twenty-nine mental-case kids with two overworked, underpaid teachers on a yellow school bus, heading to the Metropolitan Museum of Art to look at ancient Greek and Roman artefacts.

Some people might think it sounds boring, but these kind of things were always a favourite of mine. Most Yancy field trips were boring and torturous, but I had hope.

See, while Mr Brunner, the coolest Latin teacher in all the world, and the teacher who was supposed to lead the trip called in sick, he send in his assistant, the eighteen year-old Kevin Brant.

Kevin was this cool college student who was studying psychology and had very little tolerance for bullies, which I know we all appreciated. He had dark blond hair which he always wore in a ponytail, electric blue eyes and always looked like he'd just come back from a vacation in the Bahamas. One would think that someone so young wouldn't be good with helping messed-up kids like us Yancy nuts, but for some reason, he always made us feel better. He wasn't like any of the guidance counsellors at my previous schools, who just talked, he also listened a lot. Talking to him was like talking to an old friend.

I really hoped that this trip would go well. That I wouldn't get in some kind of trouble.

Sadly, I was very, very wrong.

See, bad things happen to me on field trips, no matter how hard I try to behave. Like when my fifth-grade school went to the Saratoga Battlefield and I had a little mishap with a Revolutionary War cannon. I didn't mean to aim it at the school bus, and I definitely didn't mean to fire it, but I still got expelled. And the year before that, in fourth-grade, when we took a trip behind the scenes of the Marine World shark pool and I accidentally pushed a button on the catwalk that I didn't mean to and the entire class took an unplanned swim. Thankfully the sharks were too surprised to do anything…

This trip, I was determined to behave and not cause another accident.

All the way up, I kept Chuck Hedge, my best friend, calm while Daniel Strand, a freckly and rather rude kleptomaniac boy with bright red hair kept hitting me in the back of my head with chunks of his peanut butter-and-cheese sandwich.

I guess I might have been an easy target, because I didn't easily fight back, but Chuck was always trying to stand up for me or try to get me to stand up for myself, which, while I appreciated it, wasn't going to happen.

Chuck was a strange boy. See, despite being short for his age, crippled and deceptively willowy, he was always ready to start a fight. He had a note that excused him from PE for the rest of his life because of some kind of muscular disorder that made him walk weirdly, as if every step he took hurt him, but at the same time, he could run like the wind when it was cupcake day in the cafeteria.

Anyway, while Daniel couldn't get a rise out of me, he didn't give up, which angered my best friend even more. Unfortunately, the headmaster had threatened him with in-school-suspension if anything bad, embarrassing or even mildly entertaining happened on this trip, and threatened me with the same punishment if I did anything.

"I'm going to kill him," Chuck mumbled, balling up his hands into fists as he spoke.

I tried to calm him down. "It's okay. He's not hurting anybody."

I dodged another piece of Daniel's lunch.

"That's it." Chuck started to get up, but I pulled him back.

"You're already on probation," I reminded him. "Who do you think's going to get blamed if something happens?"

Looking back on it, I really wish I'd decked Daniel myself. In-school suspension would've been a billion times better than the mess I was about to get into.

Kevin led the museum tour.

He walked in front of us, guiding us through the huge, echoey galleries, past marble statues and glass cases filled with the most fascinating black-and-orange pottery.

It always blew my mind when I remembered that these artefacts survived for thousands of years.

He gathered us around a four-metre-tall stone column with a big sphinx on top, a stele, and explained to us how it was a grave marker for a girl about our age. He talked about the carvings on the sides and explained how the ancient Greeks used to paint them, much like they painted the statues, but it was hard to focus on what he had to say because everyone around me was talking, and whenever I tried asking them to shut up, the other chaperone, Mr Thorn, gave me the evil eye.

Mr Thorn used to be some kind of general before he became a PE teacher, and pretty much always wore his uniform to gym, as if he expected there to be a battle. He had one brown eye and one blue eye and he acted like he thought that the kids he was teaching were soldiers instead of twelve year-olds. He came to Yancy halfway through the year when our last teacher had a nervous breakdown.

Ever since he arrived Mr Thorn loved Daniel Strand and figured that I was the devil himself. He'd give me detention for no reason, which I think may be against the law, but every other teacher, except for Mr Brunner and Kevin, loved the jerk.

One time, after he made me run laps around the school gym until I almost passed out, I confessed to Chuck that I didn't think that Mr Thorn was a human, to which Chuck agreed with a very serious expression on his face, saying, "You're absolutely right."

Kevin kept talking about the funeral art, explaining how the ancient Greeks used to paint their sculptures and how the stele was no different.

Daniel made a snickering comment about the naked guy on top of the stele, and I finally snapped, turning around and saying, "Will you please shut the fuck up?"

I guess it came out louder than I meant to, because the entire group laughed and Kevin stopped his story.

"Peter," Kevin said in his kind voice, "did you have a comment?"

My face was completely red as I realised that I cursed in front of two teachers. "Sorry. I didn't mean to curse."

Kevin smiled. "That's okay." He pointed at one of the pictures on the stele. "Perhaps you'll tell us what this picture is?"

I looked at the carving and was relieved when I recognised it. "That's Saturn eating his kids, right?"

Kevin shrugged. "You're half right, he's called Kronos in the Greek version."

"Kronos," I corrected while the rest of the class laughed at my mistake. "It's Kronos eating his kids."

"And why, Peter, did he do this?" Kevin asked, his smile slowly fading away.

"He was the king of the titans," I told him, "and he, he got this prophecy that his kids were going to overthrow him, like he overthrew his dad. So he… um… ate them. But his wife hid Jupiter… I mean, Zeus, and tricked Kronos into eating a rock instead. And when Zeus grew up, he tricked his dad into barfing up his brothers and sisters-"

One of the girls behind me gagged.

"-and then there was this big fight between the gods and the titans," I continued, "and the gods won."

"Know-it-all," someone grumbled.

Behind me, Daniel mumbled to a friend, "Like we're ever going to use this in real life. Like it's going to say on our job applications, "Please explain why Kronos ate his kids"."

Kevin must have some pretty sharp ears. "Peter," he said, "can you explain to Daniel how this matters in real life?"

"Busted," Chuck muttered.

"Shut up," Daniel hissed, his face turning even brighter red than his hair.

At least Daniel got in trouble too. Kevin and Mr Brunner seemed to be the only ones who ever caught him saying something wrong. Kevin had hearing like a bat.

The kind that flies and gets in your hair, not the kind that you use to play baseball with.

Those don't have ears.

I thought about Kevin's question, but I couldn't think of an answer. "I don't know."

"I see." Kevin raised an eyebrow. "Well, half credit then, Peter. Zeus managed to get Kronos to disgorge his other five children, by using a mixture of mustard and wine, and they, being immortal gods, had been living and growing up completely undigested in his stomach. The gods defeated the titans with the help of the Cyclopes and the Hecatoncheires, who made weapons for them. Then, they defeated their father, sliced him into pieces with his own scythe, and scattered his remains in Tartarus, the deepest, darkest part of the Underworld. Now, not to be weird or anything, but all of this has made me very hungry. Mr Thorn, would you please lead us outside?"

The class drifted off, the girls holding their stomachs while the guys pushed each other around, acting like complete idiots. I got the feeling that Mr Thorn didn't want to do what Kevin asked of him, but he still did, walking as if he was in some sort of trance.

Chuck and I were about to follow when Kevin said, "Peter, could you come here for a sec?"

I told Chuck to keep going, then I turned towards Kevin. "Yeah?"

If he was any other teacher, he'd scold me for being so informal with him, but Kevin was cool like that. He had a brooding look on his face, which suddenly reminded me that Kevin was in juvie when he was my age.

"You know, you should probably learn to answer that question," Kevin said, losing the brooding look like a sock in the drier.

"About the titans?"

"About real life. And how the things you learn in this class applies to it."

"Oh."

Kevin rubbed his right arm. "What you learn from Mr Brunner, it's really important. You know he'll expect you to treat it as such. And you didn't hear this from me, but he believes in you. And when he believes in someone, he'll only accept the best from them."

I opened my mouth to say something, but I didn't know what. Mr Brunner already pushed me.

Despite the fact that I have dyslexia and ADHD, and that my highest grade ever was a B-, he expected me to be better than everyone else in class. I just… lost focus when I was supposed to be studying. I couldn't remember all those names and facts I was supposed to, much less spell them correctly.

I mumbled something about trying harder while Kevin looked at the stele with a distant expression, as if he was wondering what Mr Brunner would've said if he was there.

Then he told me to go outside and eat my lunch.

The class gathered on the front steps of the museum, where we could watch the foot traffic along Fifth Avenue.

It was a peaceful day. Blue skies with the occasional cloud rolling in, which was mildly disappointing, because the weatherman promised rain. I don't know why, but for some reason, I wished it would start raining.

Everyone else was having the time of their lives. Some guys were pelting pigeons with crackers. Daniel was trying to pickpocket something from a lady's bag, and Mr Thorn wasn't seeing a thing.

Chuck and I sat on the edge of the fountain, well away from the others so people wouldn't realise that we were from that school. The school for losers and freaks who wouldn't make it elsewhere.

Chuck raised an eyebrow at me. "Detention?"

"Nah," I said. "Kevin's cool. He told me that Mr Brunner thinks that I can do better, but I wish he'd just lay off a little. I'm not some kind of genius."

Chuck had a deep, thoughtful look for a while. Then, when I thought he was going to say something to try and make me feel better, he said, "Can I have your apple?"

I didn't have much of an appetite, so I let him have it.

I watched the stream of cabs going down Fifth Avenue, and thought of my mom's house, just a little bit uptown from where we sat. I hadn't seen her since Christmas and I really wanted to jump in one of those taxis to head back home. She'd hug me and be glad to see me, but I knew that she'd be disappointed too. She'd send me right back to Yancy, reminding me that I had to try harder, even if this was my sixth school in six years and I was probably going to have another accident that would end with me being kicked out again. I wouldn't be able to stand that sad look she'd give me.

Kevin made himself at home on the front steps of the museum, pulling his coppery phone out of his leather jacket and making a call. He ate skittles while he talked, the dark, brooding expression he wore sometimes creeping up on him as he talked.

I was just about to unwrap my sandwich when Daniel and his friends appeared in front of me with his friends and dumped his half-eaten lunch on my lap.

"Oops." He grinned at me with an evil sneer.

I managed to stay cool, but Chuck did not. The school counsellor told him a million times, "Count to ten, get a control of your temper." But he was so mad that his mind went blank. I was only aware of one thing: I couldn't let my best friend get expelled. I heard something rushing in my ears. Maybe voices. Maybe screaming. I wasn't exactly sure.

I don't remember touching either of them, but next thing I knew, Daniel and Chuck were both in the fountain, sitting on their butts, and Daniel was screaming "Peter pushed me!"

Mr Thorn materialised next to me.

Some of the kids were whispering, but I was in too much shock to listen to what they were saying. Mostly they were talking about shadows. All I knew was that I was going to get in trouble again.

As soon as Mr Thorn chased the other kids away and made sure that Daniel was okay, promising a new shirt at the museum gift shop, he turned his attention to me, eyes gleaming as if I'd done something he'd been waiting for me to do all semester. "Now, son-"

"I know," I grumbled. "A month of laps around the gym."

That wasn't the right thing to say.

"Come with me," Mr Thorn said.

"Wait!" Chuck screeched. "It was me! I pulled him into the fountain!"

I stared at him, stunned. I couldn't believe that he was covering for me. After I pushed him into the fountain with his worst enemy. And Mr Thorn was the only teacher in the world Chuck was afraid of.

Mr Thorn glared at him so hard that he started trembling. The only teacher who could get him to do so.

"I don't think so, Mr Hedge," Mr Thorn hissed.

"But…"

"You. Will. Stay. Here."

Chuck gave me a desperate look.

"It's okay, man," I told him. "Thanks for trying."

"Mr Johnson," Mr Thorn barked at me. "Now."

Daniel smirked.

Chuck gave him his special "I'll-kill-you" stare while I turned to face Mr Thorn. While I was turning around, he somehow teleported to the museum entrance, all the way at the top of the steps, impatiently waiting for me to come on.

I ran up the stairs, wondering how he got there so fast. I chalked it up to my brain misinterpreting things and Mr Thorn just being fast. Halfway up the steps, I glanced back at Chuck. He was looking unusually pale, glancing between me and Kevin, as if he wanted Kevin to notice what was going on, but Kevin was too busy arguing over the phone.

When I looked up again, Mr Thorn disappeared again. Now, he was inside the building, at the end of the entrance hall.

Okay, I thought. He's going to make me buy a new shirt for Daniel at the gift shop.

But apparently that wasn't the plan.

I stupidly followed him deeper into the museum. When I finally caught up with him, we were back in the Green and Roman section.

Except for us, the gallery was empty.

Mr Thorn stood there, with his arms crossed in front of a big marble frieze of the Greek gods. He was making a deep, growling sound in the back of his throat, almost inhuman if I thought about it.

Even without the noise, I would've been nervous. It's already weird being alone with a teacher, but Mr Thorn was especially creepy. There was something about the way he looked at the frieze, as if he wanted to pulverise it.

"You've been giving us problems, son," he said.

I was too nervous to talk.

He tugged at the cuffs of his tweed jacket. "Did you really think we were going to let you get away with it?"

The look in his eyes were evil when he glared at me.

He's a teacher, I thought nervously. It's not like he's going to hurt me.

"I'll try harder."

Thunder shook the entire building. While I wondered where it came from on such a clear day, Mr Thorn continued speaking. He said, "We're not fools. It was only a matter of time before we found you again. Speak, or you'll suffer more than you already have."

I was completely lost. I had no idea what he was talking about.

Maybe he was a teacher from one of my previous schools who followed me to Yancy to get revenge for something I might have accidentally done? No, that didn't make any sense.

"Well?" he demanded.

"Sir, I don't…"

"Your time is up," he growled. Then the weirdest thing happened. He grew larger and larger, which I really didn't expect. When I finally realised that maybe I should run for it, I noticed that he had the body of a lion and a scorpion's tail covered in spikes. For some freaky reason, he still had his normal, human face.

Then things got weirder.

Kevin, who'd been out in front of the museum a minute before, came running through the doorway of the gallery, holding a pen in his hand.

"Think fast, Peter!" he shouted, and threw the pen through the air.

Mr Thorn lunged at me.

With a yelp, I dodged the spikes and felt claws slash the air next to my ear. I snatched the pen out of the air, but when it hit my hand, it wasn't a pen anymore. It was a sword. Mr Brunner's sword, which he always used on tournament day.

Mr Thorn spun towards me with a murderous look in his eyes.

My knees were jelly. My hands were shaking so much I almost dropped the sword.

He snarled, "Die, son!"

And he came running right at me.

Absolute terror ran through my body. I did the only thing I could do at the moment: I swung the sword.

The metal blade hit his shoulder and passed clean through as if he was made of water.

Mr Thorn evaporated into yellow powder, vaporised on the spot, leaving nothing but a dying screech in the air, and a chill that made me feel as if he was still there, glaring at me.

I was alone.

There was a ballpoint pen in my hand.

Kevin wasn't there. Nobody was there, just me.

My hands were trembling. My lunch must have been contaminated with magic mushrooms or something to make me hallucinate.

Had I imagined the whole thing?

I went back outside.

It started raining while I was inside.

Chuck was sitting by the fountain, using a museum map as an umbrella, despite not being able to get any more soaked because of his trip into the fountain with the now-grumbling Daniel Strand, who was complaining to his friends. When he saw me, he said, "I hope Mrs Harvey whooped your butt."

"Who?" I asked, still trying to get over what just happened.

"Our teacher. Duh!"

I blinked. We had no teacher named Mrs Harvey. I asked Daniel what he was talking about, but he just rolled his eyes and walked away.

I asked Chuck where Mr Thorn was.

He said, "Who?"

But he hesitated, and he wouldn't look me in the eye, so I thought for a moment that he might be messing with me.

"Not funny, man," I scolded him. "This is serious."

Thunder boomed overhead.

I saw Kevin, sitting on the stairs, playing a game on his phone.

I went to him.

He looked up, a little distracted and slightly startled. "Oh, that's where that went! Thanks for finding that, Mr Brunner would've killed me if I lost his favourite pen. I owe you my life, Peter."

I handed the pen over. I hadn't even realized that I was still holding it.

"Kevin," I said, "where's Mr Thorn?"

He stared at me blankly. Was I just imagining it, or were his eyes turning violet? "Who?"

"The other chaperone. Mr Thorn. The coach?"

He frowned, looking very worried. "Peter, buddy, there's no Mr Thorn on this trip. As far as I know, he doesn't even exist. Are you feeling all right?" He put his hand on my forehead. "Listen, as soon as we get back to school I want you to see the school nurse. I think you have a fever or something."

My first Percy Jackson fic. I'll update this as often as I can, but out WiFi's being turned off on Monday to be replaced with much cheaper, less regular internet, so please don't get mad when I don't update regularly.