Disclaimer: Oh my god, I'm not the creator of the series which is terribly unfortunate for me, but good for R.R. since with all of the fans he is probably quite wealthy and he gets the final say on how Blood of Olympus ends! Shocker. Please, please! I'm begging you! Review… politely. You know, polite suggestions. Oh, and I also don't own most references I make, but some of them I do. Basically, R.R. and other companies and stuff own all of the best things, but some of the settings and characters are my property.

Chapter One

If life presents you with the opportunity to seize a plump, yellow, and sour lemon, cautiously refuse the lemon and continue on. If you are allergic to lemons and, therefore, lemonade life practically desires for you to die off of the allergic reaction or the terrible taste. Lemonade is the color of pee which personally makes me feel awfully queasy. Everyone adores lemonade, but I despise it.

I happen to be Dani, a girl with no known last name. I wouldn't know of course since I never have known my true family, but let's continue and skip that. It's total buzzkill and I don't want to ruin your day with my depressing sadness about my past. Anyway, thanks to a scholarship I now attend a fancy boarding school full of pretty people who won't waste their time with losers like me. Loser with a capital finger L to your forehead. I'm practically thirteen years old.

"They gave me a scholarship because I was in an orphanage," I inform as my best friend and roommate Meg and I head towards the classroom where we would learn one of our identical electives: mythology with Ms. Olive, the new professor. "Pity party." I shrug as we proceed to get lost in the mammoth school.

"They did it because you're brilliant," Meg disagrees, shaking her head. "Really, it's like the music video for We are the Rich People in this place. I am poor compared to these students. Not that I care. I won't blow all of my money on clothes at the nearby mall and I am perfectly fine with the fact that I don't have money. Really, you could not understand toast and get in her if you had enough money."

We are the Rich People is a pretty catchy song. Curse you, Meg. Now you have me humming it quietly while sweeping my hand against my other hand like in the video, pretending that I had a stack of money and a Cadillac.

"I'm not upset that I don't have an iPad. I don't cater to the tablet quo," Meg informs with a wicked awesome smile.

"You have a Kindle."

"Your point?"

"HD."

"Those aren't second rate," I inform with an eye roll. "They cost less than iPads."

"Exactly," Meg explains, rolling her gray eyes with her hands perched on her hips. "Kindles cost less than iPads and are equal if not better in quality, but everyone wants an iPad, not a Kindle."

I frown intensely. "But I want a Kindle," I argue. "I have one. I don't want an iPad though. iPads aren't my style," I point out before sighing deeply, Meg nodding with respect and approval. "We're lost again."

Meg frowns and shakes her head. "I'm new too, Dani. That means that I strongly must advise someone to give me a map. Mangrove's a humungous school and it is very confusing. I am never confused though. Geography-wise I have no clue where we are except we are possibly at Mangrove."

"A school this big must have a directory," I inform, searching the vacant hallway, raising my eyebrows. "Or maybe I do have a map!" I exclaim and I reach into my denim pocket and find a map of campus. "That was random."

"That was convenient," Meg says, dismissing it and leaning in to observe the map. "Almost like a cartoon, I suppose." She gasps and groans, slapping her hand to her face. "The other building! THE OTHER BUILDING? Run!" she orders.

Meg and I sprint out the clear doors of what we realized was only a dorm building even though they had informed us that electives are located there. We are slow runners and we burst quickly into the other building, feeling like Physical Education is torture (for a kid who can't do push-up, it is).

Meg and I miraculously make it, coming into the classroom just has the bell goes off, announcing the beginning of class. We high-five and can't contain our smiles as we proceed to our reserved desks up front and center (the loser seats according to the popular kids). We frown instantly as we notice that no teacher is occupying the front desk.

"Wasting our time," Meg gasps, rolling her eyes tapping her fingers against the wooden surface of the desk. She continues to survey the mammoth classroom. Obviously, she is learning that the average thing at Mangrove is above average.

Except some IQs like Meg has said.

"What dorks" I hear, gulping down the need to do one of my neck rolls and be like, "Girl, you did not just do that!" and unleash my flaming fists of fury at her. I am good that way. I don't get even… even if I really want it very, very bad. I want her to flush her cosmetics in the potty and I want to throw a really heavy lemon at her. But there is no toilet and I don't have any lemons.

Meg is silent, dead silent. I can practically hear her silent defiance, but she just clenches her fists until they turn milky white. "Hey, Meg," I say with a smile. "Want to do the Harlem Shake?"

Meg is oblivious. Her jaw drops and her eyes bulge. "Mental," she reminds me, agreeing to stand me. "This is social death," she hisses as I begin to dance around and the other kids like me who aren't friends with the popular clique begin dancing too. She has no choice. She timidly begins to do the Harlem Shake. "It's like a cartoon," she points out, but she is drowned out by the imaginary beats in my head.

"Class!" a voice orders_ a stern voice. Oh… my… god the teacher! She looks puzzled, but she looks intimidating like a fit librarian with her brown hair tied into a bun and her stormy gray eyes. Sure they aren't boring, but they make me think of old dusty books in the library. "What is this nonsense?"

Automatically the class settles down and return to their seats, the popular kids snickering, but quickly the most popular kid Mikayla makes them stop with a snap of her manicured fingers. Afterwards Ms. Olive shakes her head at me, obviously ashamed.

"I've heard about you," Ms. Olive whispers. "If you are to make a name of yourself here, you must behave, Ms. Whatever-Your-Name-Is!"

"It's Dani," I mumble quietly.

"What?" Ms. Olive questions, placing her hands on her hips. "What did you say?"

Here is a confession moment. I'm not Dani. I've always been called Dani but legally my name is Mackenzie and my middle name is Danielle. No one even knows this about me.

Make my name. Am I Dani or Mackenzie?

"Mackenzie," I reply after Ms. Olive begins to tap her foot impatiently. "My name is Mackenzie, Ms. Olive. I'm afraid I don't possess a last name." I am able to look at Meg, who looks shocked and keeps asking me what seems like, "What the heck?" silently.

"I believed your name was Dani," Ms. Olive informs.

I survey the room, noting the plush purple walls and the wooden desks and the gray desk of the teacher that is neat despite how most teachers' desks are in such a clutter. The floor, I now realized, is white and black checkered and polished to a shine. The janitorial staff must be proud of how clean the learning facility is.

"That's my middle name_ Danielle," I point out, "but I prefer to be called Mackenzie, if you don't mind, ma' am." I notice that Meg is going as crazy as ever, her thoughts practically yelling inside my head.

But then they are silent.

I hear applause from the back row and I turn to find Mikayla clapping. Suddenly everyone is clapping, which is peculiar.

What the heck? I wonder curiously, shaking my head in astonishment and Meg's eyes suddenly turn red before they transform into green like the game Red Light, Green Light_ red is bad and green is good.

Meg's fingertips are smoking and I lean backward with my icy blue eyes widening. I am startled as Ms. Olive calls for order, oblivious to the fact that Meg's hands are smoking if not on fire.

"Your hands are on fire," I hiss and Meg focuses on her hands until the smoke stops, forcing me to cough uncontrollably. "What type of freaky thing is that?" I inquire quietly and I raise my hand. "Ms. Olive, I'm directly under the AC. May I please move?"

"Of course."

Of course if Meg catches on fire again, I won't with her.

Meg suddenly is all on fire like Katniss Everdeen from the Hunger Games. She shrieks loudly along with the rest of us till we are able to finally sprint away. Meg is shocked and I won't stay around to investigate further. Who cares about fire drills? A student is an inferno! There are exceptions!

"Meg!" I scream as I run out and it's all so sudden. There is no warning. "Meg, Meg!" I shout as I feel a tug on my arm. It's Mikayla.

"Leave her!" Mikayla orders. "If she moves, the fire moves. She doesn't want to kill the entire school's residents. Do you?" She smirks and grabs my wrist, jerking me out of the view of Meg.

I awaken to darkness that frightens me. Meg could have died and Mikayla is acting quite… nice. I am located in the dorm. It is all just a nightmare that chills me to the core. School hasn't even begun yet.

Mikayla does step into the dorm, presenting me with a brilliant smile and Meg with a grimace. "Meg, we're switching rooms," she orders and Meg is shocked. "Now," she adds and drags in her luggage. "I convinced the headmistress that it would be lovely for me to room with you."

I activate the adorable lamp I possess in my room with the hot pink sequins and glitter and raise my eyebrows. "What the heck?" I inquire, shaking my head. I rub my drowsy eyes and look suspiciously at Mikayla.

"Meg, move it," Mikayla orders, placing her hands with her hips with a smug grin. "I'm afraid that you'll be rooming with someone else!" She practically cackles. "This dorm is larger. It'll be perfect! Now, I must decorate!"

I walk to the door and stare into the hall, noticing twenty luggage bags lining the purple wall and I shake my head. "OMG, that's your stuff?" I ask, realizing that Mikayla is one of those rich people. "I suppose I'll help."

A supermodel woman is strolling through the dimly lit hallway dressed in black attire with super cute black sunglasses, her hands on her hips. Her tresses are held up with a black elastic and it's perfectly blond. She looks like Mikayla though. Almost identical if the woman isn't, you know, a woman.

"She looks like you," Mikayla informs with a giggle as she approaches the woman, strutting like a model. "Excuse me, are you looking for Mackenzie Danielle?" she inquires sweetly.

I am too shocked to realize that she knows my full middle name, but it is obviously that Dani means Danielle. How does she even know my nickname? Why is she assuming that the woman is searching for me?

I close my eyes. If it is all a dream, how does she know that my name is Mackenzie? I slowly step into the otherwise empty hall.

Tonight has been so strange.

"Of course," the woman informs, grinning. "Well, der. That is definitely why I am present. Also I am searching for Mikayla White. Have you seen her?"

Mikayla nods, rolling her icy blue eyes. "Well, der, I am Mikayla White and Mackenzie Danielle is my roommate," she informs as I step over, completely forgetting about the roommate matter. "My BFF," she insists. "Who are we speaking to?"

"Aphrodite," the woman replies, folding her arms in front of her chest, jutting out her hip.

"Ah… nice name. But I certainly don't know you, creepy stalker," I inform, rolling my eyes. "And I am not going to be roommates. Return to your own room."

Mikayla's eyes cloud over and with a flick of her wrist, the twenty bags of luggage levitate in the air and bob like those buoys in the sea.

I almost faint to the ground, but Meg catches me just in time.

"Yes," Mikayla agrees in a suspicious trance voice like in movies and she begins to head towards her original dorm with her flying luggage trailing behind her like ducklings following the mama duck.

Then, of course, I faint.

Ugh… another dumb nightmare. It's like the world is hating on me, just like those dumb inconsiderate lemons. Meg couldn't randomly burst into flames and Mikayla can't levitate objects. Why are my dreams so vivid?

I slap my hand against my forehead, waking up to notice that Meg is snoring soundly in the floral bed next to mine. I sigh with relief and whisper, "Meg, are you awake?"

"Do you have a zit smack dab in the middle of that space between your eyebrows?" Meg inquires and I nod. She rolls her eyes. "Then what do you think? I answered you so I am definitely awake! Now why are you awake?"

"If it was any of your business," I began, "I'd tell you." I huff angrily and sit cross-legged on the mattress. "So, what's up with you? Why are you awake?" I question, placing my head in my hands considerately. "I may need to write this down."

My dream is a dream though, you must remember. I often forget to inform people that Meg and I aren't exactly on the best terms. We aren't even real friends. We reside in our separate sides of the room, staying quiet until the icy silence makes me want to go bananas.

"Therapy?" Meg asks, placing her head in her hands. She shakes her head. "I don't need therapy. You need it." She places her hands on her hips and does a neck roll. "It's not your business about why I am awake." She frowns.

"Are you sneaking out?" I whisper nervously and much to my amusement, Meg finally nods before proceeding towards the door, eager to leave the suspicious roommate (me) who is wondering about what she is doing. What a jerk! She could be hiding a dead body or something.

"Then I'm coming with," I boldly announce, slipping my phone into the pocket of my pale pink footie pajamas which has become a habit. I block the door and watch warily as Meg nods, flipping her jet black hair.

"Whatever. Why would I care if you get busted?"

I gulp. "Busted?" I manage to choke out. "They would kick me out of the school," I inform, shaking my head. "I'm not willing to take that risk! You must be filthy rich, Meg, if you are able to pull off stunts like this without a care. You could get yourself anywhere with your money."

The Meg in the dream isn't like the real, inconsiderate Meg.

"I don't have money. I came here on a scholarship just like you. I am intelligent, Annie!"

I freeze. "What the heck do you mean by Annie?" I wonder aloud and Meg looks at me funny, shaking her head.

"Your name? Annie?" Meg chuckles. "Now move it, Annie. I have to go. I'll be back by two." She stares at the analog clock located on my baby blue desk and nods. It is one o' clock_ an hour after midnight. "Two," she echoes before she disappears as I move out of her way, gaping at her.

Mackenzie Danielle? Who? I am sure my name is Annie. Enough of my identity crisis! Annie is in a familiar name. I am fine with being Annie. Just Annie. Oh, it's all coming back to me. I suppose a section of my brain needs to adjust to being awake every once in a while. I sigh.

It's two. Meg is still gone and she is not answering her text messages. Her phone isn't declaring the messages so I assume she has it. She is strange and I am sure that her gray pajamas have a pocket. I frown and proceed out into the dimly lit hall at two thirty in the morning.

I activate my phone and gulp. Today is Friday the thirteenth and the disappearance of Meg is frightening. "Meg?" I whisper as I hear footsteps behind me. "Meg?" I whirl around and muffle a loud, uncomforting scream. Meg is there as my phone chirps and she frowns at me, tapping her foot impatiently. She looks menacing like a vampire with her amber eyes, dark tresses, pale skin, and her gray pajamas.

"Um… did you text me?" I inquire and Meg shakes her head. I find an unidentified number and read it aloud. "'Stay where you are. They are coming to get you!'" I gasp and show it to Meg, who folds her arms.

"Prank, probably," Meg says, dismissing it. "I once texted you, 'I hid the body' and you totally freaked out. It was hilarious. Of course that number couldn't be me since I registered myself in your contacts. Anyway, let's get back to the dorm. I watch cartoons on Saturday morning like any cool kid."

"Which ones?" I question.

Meg opens her mouth, but her eyes widen. She is startled and she jerks me back inside my dorm, forcing me to stare questionably at her. She raises a finger to her lips and I hear footsteps.

"Stranger danger," Meg hisses and I uncontrollably sneeze. My phone chirps and I check my text messages, noticing that Meg has texted the words "BLESS YOU" in all capital letters.

"Stalker," I murmur as the footsteps grow louder and suddenly they stop. For good. I peek outside and I whisper, "Whoever that person was, they are gone now. Did they just disappear?"

Meg is as pale as ever and inhales sharply. "Tell me, what really did wake you up so early?" she inquires quietly, a shocked expression upon her face. "It is super urgent."

"A dream," I say. "Mikayla was a witch demon, you were on fire, and there was a teacher named Ms. Olive. Also there was a supermodel named Aphrodite. Why in the world did you wake up?"

"It's not important. Give me your phone."

I hand over my cell phone, my dark brown (again, in the dream my eyes are icy blue) eyes widening. "What?" I ask.

"They really are coming to collect you," Meg orders. "The person who we had heard happened to be a minion of Gaea. There isn't time." She sends a message and I can feel my head pounding.

"Who?" I inquire tersely, folding my arms. Meg tugs me outside of the dorm and we begin to sprint down the hallway in the direction of the exit. "Meg?" I scream. "What does this mean? I told you about my dream. What about Mikayla?"

"The most popular kid at school? Ugh… I hope not," Meg grunts before she reenters the school. "Stay there. Any signs of trouble, run away as quickly as possible!" she orders before she vanishes behind the brown wooden door into something I didn't know about the slightest.

I hear a loud scream from inside. Without hesitating, I run into the school and search for Meg before the "minion of Gaea" can reach her and severely injure her. Meg is certainly a loud screamer and I am sixty-percent sure that Meg is in A-2 according to the admission letters where they listed all of the students and their dorm room numbers.

The door is open, revealing a Mikayla that is too frightened to move and Meg with a bronze word, her black tresses even more messy and unruly. "Come on," she demands coldly, giving Mikayla a look of loathing. "She is a demigod. How did you know, Annie? There are some suspicious clues that can make you draw that conclusion though."

Without another word, Meg pulls us, her sword now only a bronze circlet that she is wearing, to the exit, mumbling about how thankfully the dorm is on the first floor.

A chariot is speeding through the night sky and Mikayla suddenly shimmers before she vanished into the night, a wicked smile upon her face.

Meg gasps and stares at me with a concerned expression. She has gotten noticeably taller and the chariot pulls down to reveal super tall teenager kids, stern expressions upon their faces.

"Why did you find her at a middle school?" a blond with stormy gray eyes inquires curiously and Meg suddenly realizes what is going on so it seems since she receives her I-understand-now look.

You know someone for two days and you suddenly recognize their facial expressions.

"Uh… Annabeth, a daughter of Hecate or maybe Hecate herself," Meg explains. "I think it's a permanent spell just because since I'm a daughter of Hecate and I know my spells perfectly. Also it completely reset her life except for her intelligence from the age of three and a half."

"What?" I wonder aloud. "Are you people nuts?" I inquire. "Great, now I am a four-year-old trapped in a twelve-year-old's body!" I grumble. "Perfect," I sarcastically spat, folding my arms.

Meg corrects, "No, you are a three-year-old trapped in the mind of an advanced twelve-year-old." She is such a know-it-all. Why the sudden character change from Meg? Emo no more! She takes my hand and I board the chariot, clearly distressed and shocked and totally confused and messed up.

Review pretty please! Hope you enjoyed!