Hi! I'm new here, so no mean comments! - Hazel
Jade: Help! She's holding me hostage!
Me: Do shut up and say the disclaimer.
Jade: Okay, A- since when are you British?, B- If I'm supposed to shut up, how do I say the declaimer, and C- HDH will never, ever, ever, ever…
Me: I think they get it… -_-
Jade: … ever, ever, not in a million years, ever own PJO or HoO. Thanks for reading!
Me: I despise you.
Hey guys, I'm finally rebooting this story. I got so many positive reviews for this horrible story; I think I owe it to both you and my pride as an author to get down to it and rewrite. The updates will be slow, but better, and I hope I live up to your expectations. Thanks for all the follows, faves, and reviews. Please enjoy. (I will keep doing the funny line breaks, a lot of you liked that. )
Jade: About well time!
Me: Ah, well- I like the original idea. And your character will be better!
Jade: I would hope so.
Jade: Btw, you don't own anything but me, Corey, and the plot line.
Me: Now I remember why I hate you.
Jade P.O.V.
Today was supposed to be normal. I was supposed to go to school, come back, sleep, and eat. In that order. But sometimes life doesn't go as planned- like when you asked for a triple choco donut, and your dad brings back glazed because he 'forgot,' and you know it's because they're his favorite. I suppose I was lucky to even get donuts that day. Oh, well.
Mmmmn donuts.
Anyway, that morning I woke up and hour late, because the gremlin underneath my bed repeatedly pressed the snooze alarm, and I wasn't able to do my morning run. I hate myself for not being able to pry my eyes open, but I managed to roll off the bed, and the landing on my hardwood floor jerks me awake (and gives me a headache.). I quickly headed to my bureau, kicking my fuzzy pajama pants off as I went. I grabbed a pair of bootcut jeans from the pile of clothes that lay at the foot of drawers, and tugged them up to my waist, not bothering to button them. After a little rooting around, I also grabbed a yellow tee and a pair of almost-clean-but-not-quite socks. I grabbed my phone and iPod off my desk, and my headphones from the corner of the room. I nudged the door open with my elbow, and jogged to the bathroom across the hall.
I dumped my stuff on the toilet seat and pulled one sock onto my left foot, all while rooting around my sink for my hair brush. I always balance better on my right foot, so as I tugged the right sock on, I leaned on the white counter with my elbow, and attempted to brush my hair with my right arm, the one with limited movement. After I had both my socks on, I concentrated on getting the thick knots out of my curly dark hair.
After the monstrosity called my hair (more like mane) had been tamed, at least enough to go out in public, I hastily brush my teeth, and grabbed my electronics off the toilets. I hightailed it down the rest of the hallway, and down the stairs, turning sharply and nearly falling. My cat, Raz, heard the commotion of hurricane Jade and began meowing for breakfast. Even if I had the time, I wouldn't feed her, I thought spitefully. Dad always serves her a five star meal of his leftover eggs and bacon before he leaves for work.
When I reached the base of the stairs, with my free hand, I nabbed my backpack off the coat rack, and then turned and dumped it on the chest that lounges at on the border of my house's entryway. Beside it, wedged between the staircase and it, is another coat rack- this one free standing instead of nailed to a wall. At the foot of coat rack #2, lay my worn and well-loved sneakers, which I wear so often that I didn't even have to untie them to slip them onto my feet.
After I hooked Mr. Shoe and Miss Foot up for a long date, I took my phone & co., and put them in my stuffed-to the brim bag. I glanced at the clock on the wall and saw that I had about ten minutes to grab an apple and walk to the corner of Maple St. and Simon Blvd., to meet my best friend Corey. Because my drive way is so long, it actually takes like eight minutes to walk there, so I figured I had better get going. I sauntered around Raz, who was lurking in the shadow of a decorative table, crossed my living room, and targeted the fruit bowl in my dining room. I nitpicked through the stack of apples until I found one suitable to my tastes. I took the same route back to the entry way.
I grabbed the strap on my messenger bag, and plopped it over my shoulder, its thick strap settling nicely against my neck. Giving my cat one last scornful look, I stepped out into the chilly late fall air, and shut my front door, barely remembering to lock it.
The dogs barked at me from their kennel, and I turned around, still walking, just backwards, and gave them a lopsided grin and a Boy Scout salute. I made my way down the winding drive way, glancing around the foggy woods that surround my house and the next four neighboring homes. As I reached the end, I broke into a light jog to ensure that I wouldn't be late.
Today was one of those days- you know the one where you wake up, expecting a peaceful and smooth morning routine, surrounded by singing woodland creatures that do the chores for you; but then you wake up late and receive a K.O. from your beloved floors.
Those cherry planks betrayed you.
In fact, most mornings were a disappointment, at least for me. I don't have a driver's license, and my dad's world doesn't revolve around coffee, unlike other people, so he often forgets to restock my lifejuice. Luckily, Corey, wonderful Corey, always remembered to buy me a triple choco donut and a latte with milk or a shot of vanilla on Tuesdays. I really don't deserve him. At least I brought the pizza and Mt. Dew on Friday nights for our call of duty sessions.
Speaking of Corey, I boasted the rise of last hill on Simon Blvd., and saw him waiting at the corner, the bus fast approaching. I picked up my speed from the previously mentioned light jog, and sprinted towards our stop. I ran up Maple St., and saw the two middle school girls who also rode our bus running desperately, looking as if they were even later than me. I reached the corner just as the bus stopped, coming within a few feet of me. I gave a sheepish smile to the bus driver, May, and she looked at me, half startled and half stern.
"Hey, Cors," I said airily, burdened with the inability to catch my breath because of my lack of a morning run (I hate that gremlin.), to the background music of the bus doors opening with a hiss. The two sisters, who looked relieved to have made it, clambered up the steps and landed with two identical huffs in the front seat. Corey and I followed suit, the Starbucks and Dunkin' Donuts bags rustling together in his hands. We ambled down the aisle, and slumped down in a neutral territory seat in the middle- belonging neither to the tiny middle schoolers, nor dominated by the seniors in high school.
Corey's delayed answer to my greeting went as such: "There were not triple chocos. I had to get a double choc." He handed me the Dunkin' Donuts bag, and focused on trying to discern my latte with milk from his mocha with caramel- the server probably forgot to label them because he/she was too busy hating their life. You might be wondering why we didn't just get coffee from the Dunkin' Donuts, and the answer is that I am very, very picky. Dunkin' Donuts has amateur coffee, at least the one in our town.
As the bus lurched to a stop at the second driveway on Maple St. (seriously, we have to walk down our road, why do these people get private stops at each. Individual. House?), he finally figured it out and handed me my coffee, and I gave him his coconut cinnamon donut. We love Tuesdays.
_- DYK: At school, HDP (the author) is called the corner gremlin? -_
After the long, noisy bus ride full of idle chat that we had to scream at the top of our lungs to be heard, Corey and I made it safely inside the school. As Corey's locker was all the way across the school from mine, we bade farewell immediately, and split up at the first intersection. I fought my way through the stupid, crowded hallway, and peeled myself off of the face of my locker after I was shoved into it. I fiddled with my lock for a moment before it opened, and then quickly shoved my bag into the metal box. With a few minutes to spare before homeroom started, I wandered around the newly empty halls, closing lockers that others were too lazy to shut themselves.
I slid into my chair just as the bell rung. Morning announcements droned on, and I finished up homework that I had told Dad was done. Soon enough, the hallways were full again, and I made a short stop at my locker to grab my Social Studies book and my pencil case.
The classes went on as usual, nothing notable happened, although in Science we began studying the weather and the guy who sat next me kept making lame puns with various prompts. Corey wasn't in any of my classes, though we did sit with each other at lunch.
After lunch, I had gym with my friends Mesa and Ollie. They were athletic girls, Mesa played soccer, and Ollie played basketball, and both had pale skin from practicing in gyms rather than the great outdoors. Mesa was a brunet with green eyes and pale freckles on her nose, and Ollie was a redhead with more freckles than Mesa, but they only covered the apples of her cheeks along with her nose. In the locker rooms, as usual, we struck up conversation.
"Sooooo-"Mesa started, and I knew what she was going to ask. Ever since elementary school, Mesa had made it her life goal to get Corey and I together. Every day, the first chance she gets, it's, "So, have you realized your love for him yet?/?/ squeee?" These days, the first class she has where she sits anywhere near me is a class called the locker rooms.
"Don't even," I cut in, not really in the mood for her initial conversation crap. "We're mot together, Mesa."
"You should though," added Ollie, putting her red hair into a pony tail. "You two would be so cute."
I gave her a look that said something along the lines of 'we-do-this-every-day-so-please-stop'. After I felt that the look had been long enough, I leant down to tie my right shoe (they were neon orange, that my dad insisted were pink, and Ollie comforted me by calling them coral), and just as I double-knotted it, the gym teacher, Mrs. Dejulia, called for us to line up. I gave a nervous glance to the front of the room before I grabbed my other shoe off the bench, and with Mesa making proclamations of my love for Prince Corey (I think we're her OTP.), and Ollie giggling about the shoe in my hand, because this happened all the time, we marched.
During gym, the class was crowded to one half of the gym, because some men were doing something with the ceiling on the other. We had the choice to shoot hoops or jog around the perimeter, and like the runner I am, I convinced Mesa to jog with me. (Ollie couldn't turn down the chance to shoot hoops, because she's a net-head.)
Then we went to literature, and then the school day ended. Literature was the farthest it could be from my locker, so I groaned about it to Kayla (another friend of mine), and sucked it up. We split up about halfway, and I fought my way back to my locker alone. I tugged my backpack out, and slipped my binder and the book I was carrying around into it, and swung it over my shoulder. I took my blue gym bag and stuffed it in before slamming it shut. I walked back through the nearly empty halls, as there was about a minute before the busses left, and met Corey at the doors.
"Hey man," I greeted, and began to walk out the propped-open door. I stopped in my tracks when Corey grabbed my arm, and tugged me back into the school.
"What gives? We'll miss the bus!" I asked indignantly.
"Uh, yeah, about that- follow me," he said, a bit on the quiet side, and began to timidly walk deeper into the school. I vaguely heard the busses starting up past the sealed doors, and followed him hesitantly, because it was too late to catch the bus by now anyway.
"I'm serious, what the heck?" I asked, falling in to step behind him.
"May I borrow your phone?" he asked suddenly, and took it out of a side pocket on my bag without further permission. He started composing a text.
"Corey, stop!" I said forcefully, and attempted to grab the phone out of his hands, but he was taller than me by like a foot and a half, so he just held it over his head.
"Jade, can you trust me for a minute? I know that might be hard, you know, me being your best friend and all," he growled sarcastically, his fingers flying over the buttons. After a minute, he pressed what I assume was the send button, and put my phone in his own backpack.
"C'mon, we need to go somewhere," he sighed, and after taking in my disbelieving, and slightly annoyed, expression, added, "Jade- this is very important. Can you please trust me; I promise it'll all turn out okay."
I guess he kind of deserved a moment of trust, so I allowed him to lead me back down the hall. He paused at the door, and looked through the glass, scanned the now empty parking lot before he opened it, and beckoned me through it. He told me to wait a moment before continuing down the wall, and glancing around the corner as if he was in Mission Impossible. True to my description, he signaled for me to follow again, and did a kind of crouch-run across the next yellow-brick wall. I did the same, figured if he was doing it, it was for a reason.
"We're going to meet up with a few… friends of mine," he said suddenly, while we were walking down the alleyway beside the school, looking extremely shady.
"When you say friends…" I trailed off. "You're not in trouble with druggies are you?!" I suddenly asked, raising my voice just above my normal tone. That could be potentially bad. Corey's been known to get into things over his head.
"No, no, nothing like that," he sighed, practically adding, 'you drama queen, you.'
"Just. It's not quite safe here," he decided hesitantly. I don't know what he meant by that, but it sounded very ominous. We continued stalking our way down the wall until we reached the end, and crossed a small backstreet. We walked down another alleyway, and finally stopped in front of an old building, a café that looked like it was built in the thirties.
Corey nodded towards it, seemed to me as if he wanted me to enter, so I did. The door swung wide, the hinges squealing in pain, and a bell on the inside knob jingled, signaling our entry. There was only one table occupied, a small group of two- looking worried despite the cozy, dark interior.
I glanced back at Corey to see if we were to be seated there or wait for others to come, and he confidently walked in front of me, towards the people. They were taking up one half of the booth, and so I slid in next to Corey on the other side. All three muttered their greetings before turning to me and introducing themselves. A gentle-looking girl with a crooked, seemingly newly broken nose, and mousy brown hair went first.
"Hello, my name is Fawnah, but you can call me Awny," she said brightly, taking on a forced smile to try to lighten the mood. Her glowing, honey-tinted skin was in stark contrast to the boy beside her. His pale skin complimented his dark eyes and hair, and he looked vaguely familiar, like I had met him before. He rolled his eyes at Fawnah's attempt at light-hearted conversation.
He tugged at the sleeves of his leather jacket, and muttered, "Sup. I'm Nico. Call me Nico." I snorted at his sardonic joke, and his intense gaze snapped towards me, narrowing his eyes.
I reached across the table to shake Fawnah's hand, and with a grin that didn't quite reach my eyes, murmured, "Hey, I'm Jade. How do you know Corey?"
Fawnah and Nico gave each other a meaningful looks before Fawnah leaned over both Nico and the table to whisper with Corey. After a few moments, they seem to come to an agreement, and turn back to me.
Before Fawnah can say anything, a perky waitress comes up to our table and asks us if we would like anything to drink. Nico turns her down, and she walks away.
"Well, the thing is, Jade…," Fawnah said, sounding evasive. "How do you feel about… going on a trip?"
A trip. That could mean so many things, I could get a migraine trying to list all the options.
"Wadaya mean?" I inquired, and leaned back in the seat.
"Well, uh… we can go to the museum downtown. We'll take the subway," she answered suspiciously. I suppose it could be harmless, but I'm still on guard when I agree. After we decided where to go, we cleared out of the café, and received a dirty look from the waitress that tried to take our order. We began walking down the street, making idle chat, but mostly we are suspended in an awkward silence. We mostly passed a bunch of old, mostly abandoned apartment buildings, and walking on cracked, long neglected sidewalks.
We'd been walking for only a few minutes, towards the general location of the nearest sub station, when Corey led us into an alley. Suddenly, they all stopped, and Nico roughly grabbed my forearm and joined hands with Corey and Fawnah.
The last thing I think before I blacked out is, 'Freaking Dunkin' Donuts. If I had had a triple choco donut, none of this would have happened.'
The first version
Jade POV:
I thought that today would be a normal day, but boy was I wrong. It actually started out pretty normal, like one of those days that you wake up thinking that it's Saturday, but it turns out that it's Tuesday and your entire mood goes way down. Yeah. It was one of those days. I woke up and went to get breakfast. We were out of cereal. Go figure.
I made a proclamation, that wasn't very public unless you think a small kitchen is a public place and my three dogs a huge audience, there and then, that I hated Tuesdays. I ended up being late to meet my friend Corey at the corner of our block. Corey is my best friend, and we walk to school every day, but even I admit that he's a little weird. Today he kept on sniffing the air. He looked worried.
By the time we got to school, he was frantic. He pushed me into the lobby of our school, and as I looked back, I saw a tall guy in a trench coat watching us closely. Huh. In social studies class we had to write a short journal entry about what the daily lives if pioneers might have been like. My dyslexia didn't help at all. By the time track and field practice was over, I had gotten three Ds, two Cs, and five F's. I was lucky I was even on the track team with my grades. The coach always paid the most attention to me, and pushed me to do my best. It's like he's trying to train me for the real world, but other than the Olympics, I don't know how those skills would be part of real life.
Since practice was at the end of the day, the halls were empty as I got my stuff from my locker. Corey isn't part of the track team, but since he goes to all my practices and acts like my personal cheerleader, we can still walk home together. Today I had to wait for him to make a call before we left. "We're going to hang out with some friends of mine today, so we won't be going straight home today." He said nervously. I looked at him quizzically and said, "Should I call my dad?"
"No, no, um… I already contacted him." He said.
-This is a line break ;) –
Well, to say the least, Corey has some weird friends. And my life just got a whole lot more interesting. So, Corey and I went to a café and sat at a booth with two girls and two guys. They were all more or less my age. One with dark brown hair and sea green eyes was Percy, I could probably annoy him by continuously tapping and/or poking him and saying "Hey, hey Percy, Percy hey!" and so on. The other guy, whose name was Nico, had a sort of Goth complexion with black hair and brown eyes. If I know anything about Goths, I know that it ticks them off to be called emo. The first girl had choppy brown hair and kaleidoscope eyes. Her name was Piper, and I don't like to annoy girls, but just in case, she would probably freak if I asked her where she got her makeup, because she wasn't wearing any. Hazel, the last girl, had brown, curly hair and amber eyes. Hazel, Piper, and Percy were all pretty chatty, but Nico looked as if he'd rather be anywhere but here.
I could relate.
After a while of talking, we heard some commotion outside. As Piper and I rushed to the window, I saw a blond guy and a Latino fighting of a griffin.
With swords.
Piper ran back to the table, while I was still gaping, and said to Percy, "Percy, Jason and Leo are being attacked by a griffin! Go help them." She then turned to Nico. "Can you shadow travel Jade, Hazel, and I back to camp?"
Nico grumbled something along the lines of, "Fine." and grabbed my and hazel's hand. Piper put her hand on his shoulder, and suddenly I felt dizzy, nauseous, and as light as air for about a minute.
And it was torture.
When I stopped feeling like I was going to barf, I looked up from the ground. Piper and Hazel looked as bad as I felt, and Nico just looked tired. "Welcome to Camp Half Blood." He managed to mutter.