(A/N) First Fanfic! YAY! Disclaimer: I do not own the Percy Jackson Series, but I think that Rick Riordan is an absolute genius. Hope I get that good one day:) Oh my gosh, nothing means more to me right now than your reviews. Dear readers, help me. I'm an artist. I act, sing, write. I can take it. Gimme whatcha got.

Sum: Dylan lives on the east coast with his aunt June. Melia's a true-blue Cali girl. Raymond's suffering as the nerdy kid in Florida, and little Addy is in Seattle, at a boarding school for girls. But when each one is intercepted by strange men in black suits, they learn things about themselves... and their families. (Percy and other PJO characters will come in soon - in case you haven't guessed, they are all related. But not as you might think...) Join these four talented muti-demi-gods as they take on the most adventurous, romantic, crazy quest you've ever been on.

but this isnt the best chapter:)) haha HONESTY... it sucks.

I always oversleep on a test day. Without fail. At 8:15, twenty minutes after I should've woken up, I grab my water polo bag and my keys and run out the door, chugging a glass of water and munching a granola bar as fast as I can. I slide into the seat, yell "Bye, Aunt June! See you at three!" buckle up, and speed out of the driveway towards Jackson High. Now, I drive a beat up old car that I fixed myself with my buddy Matt. He really is good with tools and stuff. I speed into the parking lot, 8:28. Two minutes. I dashed up the step but of course I wipe out on the top one. I hit hard. Blood spurted out of my nose and my neck hurt. I get myself to the bathroom and clean up. A freshman spots me coming out and shrieks from the sight of my bloody face. She was pretty cute, but she screwed my entire day; the nurse rushes out and I'm detained for half an hour before I can get to Mrs. Slater's class. I have a suspension if I'm late again. And here I am. I groaned. Although little did I know how this would change the whole course of my life.

When I finally wrench open the door to room 35, Mrs. Slater turning sharply towards the door, tapping her stupid little pointed shoe, and glaring daggers at me. For a skinny little old lady, she's pretty darn scary. She's one of those old ladies with blue hair, and her eyes… they're like a bird's. A ravenous, hungry, evil bird. They're beady and dense and ebony black.

"Where were you, ?" she asks me, expressionless but for her freaky eyes.

"I tripped… fell… bloodied up my face a bit. I had to go to the nurse," I said. "Do I get a pass, just this once? I was injured!"

She cocks her head and considers me.

"Mr. Merrick, this is the seventeenth time you have been late to my class this semester alone. You say you were INJURED - bah. Injuries only happen to… the weak" she says her words slowly; enunciates them. She takes small steps forward, her voice rasping, her shoes clicking. I'm hyperaware of my girlfriend Sarah's eyes on me. I want to glance back pleadingly, but I'm hypnotized.

"All of us carry wounds, young man. Every person in this room showed up to class today. I bear the deepest wounds in the world, yet I am here. To allow yourself to be detained is to be weak. To feel pain is weakness. Are you weak, Mr. Merrick?"

My fists balled. She was provoking me.

"Are you weak, Mr. Merrick? Answer my question."

"No, Ma'am," I said quietly, my voice betraying my anger.

"This is where you are wrong. You are weak, helpless, irreverent, and disobedient. What kind of future is there for a boy detained by weakness? Who can't do his homework and is never on time to class? What kind of man will you become with so many predestined flaws in your character? What hope is there for you? Incompetent boy! You disgust me. What, Dylan, will you ever do in your life? Nothing. You are nothing."

It took everything I had and more not to knock that old lady to the floor. I'd been dealing with people like her my whole life, from the counselors saying I was "special" when I was a little kid and developed an obsession with being a whale and wouldn't leave the team swimming pool to the people giving me the IQ tests, gently telling Aunt June how below average it was. How the best she could do was send me into the programs for the dumb kids. For the impaired kids. For the kids with no hope. I'm not particularly emotional, but it really wears on a person, you know? I mean, maybe that's not YOU, personally, but if you think heard enough about it, I'm sure that you could understand.

I ran out of that room. I didn't know where I was going to go, or what I was going to do. I didn't have a hall pass, so I wasn't going anywhere near the office. I wasn't going to my locker, what would I do? I stood for a moment outside the door in rage and confusion. Could I leave? What other strikes would make a difference on my permanent record? What's the big deal? Senior year here has no appeal to me, anyway. I'll already get accepted to any college I want because of my athletics. I can't think straight. I go out to the school pool and dive in, clothes and all.

Instantly, the water washes away all trace of confusion. I surface after swimming two laps without breathing, and sit myself up on the edge. I hold out my hand to six inches above the water and… I can't really explain it. It kind of feels like there's this golden light shooting from the back of my mind out to my hand and it raises the water without me having to touch it. A minute later, I'm holding a floating sphere of water six inches above my hand.

And that's when I had my horrible idea; made my fatal mistake.

Channeling every bit of power I had, I sucked up each drop of water in that pool up into a giant mass of floating chlorinated liquid. The pain was terrible. I felt like Atlas holding the world above my head. The sphere was huge, as big as a living room, and floating a foot above my head. It was beginning to glow. I had never done anything this huge, in case you hadn't guessed. I felt like I was going to faint, but I couldn't. My anger kept me focused on the task. And slowly, I began to step towards the classrooms.

It was a good thing that room 35 was so close to the pool. I didn't even have to walk down a hallway. The back window was open; the perfect receptacle. I was panting from just five minutes carrying this mass. The next part… I'm not even exactly sure how it happened, but the golden light gave a thrust and went dead, and the water flew from me quiet as a mouse and into the classroom of my unsuspecting peers.

Shrieks ensued. But when I looked up, there was Mrs. Slater, glaring at me as always, her creepy eyes keeping me hypnotized.

And she wasn't wet at all.