There was a flash of green light, and then I was dead. But why start when I'm dead?

It's not easy, being a Demigod. One parent drives you in a mini van to soccer games, while the other takes you in a chariot. That would be on difference, I've noticed in my 5 years of knowing I was the son of Mary, and the son of Hercules. Yes, Yes. I know, "Hercules isn't a god, uck, moron. Why don't you go read some Greek mythology, idiot". But, what a lot of people seem to forget is that Hercules was transformed into a god at his death. He's not a demigod anymore, and hasn't been for thousands upon thousands of years. So l actually can be his son. And I am. But that didn't help prevent me from dying. Quite the opposite, actually. But before we get to that part, let's start.

From the beginning.

I was once just a 15 year old kid. I had a not-so-normal mom, who had a mysterious job up until I was ten and learned what "Gentleman's Club" meant. She worked during the day, thank god, and was there for me everytime I came home from school. Every, single time. But that has never bothered me, I mean I know a lot of teenagers my age would find it embarrising, but my mom was never like that. She never dropped me off or picked me up for school. She never made me my lunch with a corny heart on the top telling me to study hard. But yet, she was always there for me. I could never, ever imagine a life without her. I mean, I get that there are billions of people who will never know her, yet I just really want to say she is an awesome mom.

School was about the same for me, as it is for every other sophomore out there. I was ok In most subjects, math I flunked several times over the past couple years but my school was pretty accepting overall, and the only way you can be set back a grade is if you fail a subject, and have a "C" average or lower in another one, and let's just say I've been really lucky over all. I have friends, and I've had plenty of girlfriends, I mean I must have had over 10 during that year, before the fire started. That doesn't make me a stud or anything, they had just never felt right, which none of my friends then really understood, especially the guys in my group who were only thinking of one thing.

But anyways, the day the fire started I was in Chemistry. I had never been good at Chemistry, but Mr. Kenterlop "The Cantelope" knew my mom from work and always let me fly by with a whole bunch of B's. I had always been slightly disturbed by it, especially when he asked how my Mother was, but I learned to just clench my fists and respond normally. I never made eye contact with him, and my friends always wondered why I hated him but I never told them, and Mr. Kenterlop was never stupid enough to ask me in the open.

I was sitting in the back, talking to this kid I never really liked but always seemed to be "there". He was telling me something about the new Amazing Spiderman movie, waving his arms around and making all these weird faces. I was nodding a whole lot, offering a grin when he would stop briefly, and made sure to belt out a couple of fake laughs when he told a joke. Bella, a dark haired girl who had recently gotten a tan from a visit with her grandparents in Florida, was sitting two seats ahead of me. She had beautiful hair that went down to her hip, and whenever I caught her eye she would play with one of the strands and flip all over her hair to her right shoulder, showing her golden toasted neck. She was passing through that phase almost every girl goes through in highschool, from just being cute to being beautiful, and I couldn't stop looking at her. She had these beautiful eyes, not just like green from a forest but when you looked into them you seemed to sink right into the forest. The only reason why I wasin't flirting with her that moment, why I was listening to another recap of Emma Stone dying and how sad it was to see a hot girl die, was because of how she was on the inside. Don't get me wrong, I'm sure she doesn't have a disease or anything. But the shitty part about everygirl I had ever been with, or knew in the highschool were insecure, and major self-esteem issues, and would do crazy things to make up for it. I just, I don't know. I just wanted somebody different from the rest, that didn't need someone's approval, and that wouldn't need me. I didn't want to be "their" guy after a week. I didn't want to talk every night. I wanted her, I wanted to kiss her, and talk, and make jokes. I wanted to fight, and laugh and do so many things. But I didn't want to be a third leg. The girl may think she needs me, but I am at important as a third leg. What would you do with a third leg? Sure it's cool, but your fine on 2. You can still hop on 1. Why do you need a third. Why does every girl I had ever gone out with always think they need one?

Sigh. Skipping the majority of the rant I had going on there, I was sitting in the back of the class room, when out of nowhere a girl pops up, in the middle of the room ontop of Andre Rofis's desk, the kid from Peru, in a poof of Black smoke.

Time literaly stopped. I mean, if you let go of the pen you might have been holding to copy down notes form the black boart, it would stand still in the air. I felt like my heart had stopped. The girl looked normal, with ripped blue jeans on, and long deep scarlet hair that was thick and shiny. She looked around, a bit confused in a white blouse, her hair past her shoulders yet no elbow high height. The thing I noticed about her first of all though, was a tiny black tattoo beside her left eye. It was 3 shapes in one, a triangle, a line, and a circle all together. Her brown coffee eyes looked around, and then stopped on someone.

"You. What's your name?"

Everyone swung around to look at the kid in front of me. He looked like the very definition of Flabbergasted, and couldn't even had said a letter if she had asked him to pronounce "A".

"It's Jake."

Everybody spun there heads to look at the kid who had talked. Me.

The girl stared at me in the eye, and asked me the question that started it all.

"What does a Dove and a Pigeon have in common?"

I noticed out of the corner of my eye, Mr. Cantelope sneak out of the door. Probably to get security.

"I don't know."I said with a shrug. I glanced at Bella, who was probably scared shitless like the rest of the classroom, and looked back at the girl on the desk. "They both like bread?"

And that's when the girl started the fire.