Stereotypical

Emma's dad was going to kill her. Mr. Wilkins was this big calculus professor at some huge university, and she had just failed an algebra test. She was sure her mother wouldn't be pleased either.

Who was Emma's mother exactly? Athena, goddess of wisdom. Big feet to fill.

Of course Emma wasn't sure she cared. Why should she be the stereotypical Athena kid? Smart and nothing else.

She often wished she was a Daughter of Aphrodite. Then it would be acceptable for her to gossip and read fashion magazines. She wouldn't be expected to know everything.

Last summer at camp before she was claimed, everyone thought she was an Aphrodite kid. She hung out with them all the time.

Then, in the middle of July, at her thirteenth birthday, she had been claimed. By Athena of all people. Her mother must be ashamed of her. Emma didn't care though. Why should she be the girl everyone expected just because of who her parents were?

All her friends stopped hanging out with her.

"Athena kids are no fun," They had said.

This summer would be different. She wouldn't even try to fit in with her siblings. She would go tell her friends about her school's gossip and beg them to forget her mother.

Emma didn't ask to be a Daughter of Athena.

Why should she need to know all that? Why should she plan and plan and fight? What's wrong with sitting on the sidelines and fixing her makeup?

She wasn't her mother, so why should she be expected to act like her?

Emma took a deep breath and walked into her dad's house.

"Emma," Her dad said, "how was the big test?"

That's it. No how was your day, or did you ask out that boy yet.

She handed him the piece of paper.

His face turned deathly pale.

"Emma," He said, "a forty-three?"

Emma nodded with a small smile growing.

"Me and your mother both expected more from you," Her father started to lecture.

"Why should I care?" She said. "I'm not you. I'm not mom. I'm me. I don't care how well I do on a test. I'm more worried about my friends and my life. I'm no Athena."

She left her dumbfounded father alone and went upstairs to her bedroom. She loved her bedroom. She left it locked all summer so her father couldn't go in and put up the periodic table poster again. She did cover it in posters though.

It was a pink room with a pink carpet and pink curtains. That was just the way Emma liked it.

Well, she wasn't positive that the walls were pink because every inch of it was covered in celebrities and movie posters.

One month later, Emma stepped across the border of Camp Half-Blood. She walked down to the Aphrodite cabin to find Rosie, her best friend.

"Emma," Rosie said, "why aren't you with your smarty-pants siblings?"

"As if I wanted to hang out with those know-it-alls," Emma said.

"Do you think I should ask Jonathan out?" Rosie asked.

"Hmm," She said. "Maybe."

Emma Wilkins was anything but stereotypical.