I do not own Percy Jackson or any of the characters.
Rescued
My name is Adam Chapman. I've never had an easy life. Not that it's hard in the sense that my family was too poor to provide, or that they neglected me. Actually, in that regard I'm incredibly lucky. My mother and father separated after I was born, but both are still around, and are on good terms. And my stepfather, a potato farmer, is a great guy and a great father.
No, my life is hard in the sense that I struggle with having friends. I've been told that I'm good looking, and I go out of my way to make sure the friends I do have are happy. However, I struggle with making friends because I don't trust people. Actually, it'd be more accurate to say that people can't lie to me. For whatever reason, I can just tell when people lie. It's just this feeling I get. I just know. Like that game where you tell two true facts and one made up one, I can always tell which is a lie.
Which makes my relationship with my dad complicated. He's not really human. I don't know what he is, because he won't tell me, but he's not human. He says it's because of him that I know when people lie, because he can too.
Dating is a nightmare. I don't trust girls at all most times. The first girl I liked said she liked me as more than a friend. The second said she wasn't doing drugs. The third said she wasn't using me to make my friend jealous. That same friend also, later, said he wasn't dating her behind my back. All lies. All reasons to not trust people. The only friends I could actually keep were a guy named Caleb, and his girlfriend Katie. Both told me the truth. I was antisocial, weird because of my ADHD, and not likely to ever get a girlfriend because I would have to be able to ignore lies.
Maybe this doesn't sound like a hard life, bit it really is. I constantly feel alone. And then there are the problems of me switching schools. Case and point, I'm pulled out of my thoughts as I reach the door of the school I was just enrolled in after my dad told my Mom to switch me. I push the door open and stare at the crowded hallway before me. So many new faces. I sigh heavily and walk through the door, glancing at my class schedule, then my locker number. As soon as I reach it and pull it open, the jocks find me, slamming it closed again. I stare at the locker, and the hand on it, in silence.
"You're new, ain'tcha?" The broad-shouldered blond boy a full foot taller than me asks.
He's probably got twenty pounds of muscle on me, but I honestly don't care. I've been in fights before. My ADHD loves it, so I generally win. Though, not always.
"You deaf or something?" the jock asks, leaning down by my ear.
"Or something," I say, pushing his arm away and opening the locker.
"Well, I'll give you some free advice," the jock said, glaring. "The hot blonde cheer leader, she's off limits. She's my girl."
"No, she's not," I sigh, pulling out my book, notebook, and a pen and pencil. "You're lying."
I step around him only for him to grab me by the shirt. I sigh, turning and he gets up in my face. Before he can talk, however, a teacher steps out of a room off to the side, clearing their throat. The jock huffs and walks away and I sigh.
"Thanks," I say, walking to my first class and sitting down in the only open seat.
"I see we have a new student," the teacher from before says about ten seconds later as he walks in. "Would you care to introduce yourself?"
I stand, looking around. A lot of the faces around me are attractive girls. Probably all taken. And liars.
"I'm Adam Chapman," I say. "I have ADHD, I probably won't be here long, and it's impossible to lie to me. I can always tell."
"Bull crap," a boy off to the side says.
"Test me," I invite.
"I have two sisters, I like to read, and I like chocolate," a girl said.
"All lies," I say. "How do you not like chocolate?"
"Impressive," the girl smiles. "I want you as my friend."
I sit down sighing quietly. Liar. For the next two hours, the teacher teaches us history. Then, we head to gym class. There we play dodgeball. I've never played before, somehow, but apparently I'm good, because where everyone else hits someone about once in ten throws, I hit someone every throw. The game's over in a few minutes four times in a row. After that is math, then English, lunch, science, and health class. Then I go home.
And so, the monotony starts in. And the routine. Every day, I spend the thirty minutes or so before class doing all manner of things to prove my lie detecting abilities, from the two truths and a lie game to poker. Then I struggle to focus through school, excel at gym class, and then suffer through more classes. Apparently, it's not just dodgeball I'm good at. Any sport involving throwing an object, be it basketball, baseball, or Frisbee, I'm excellent at it. My aim is nearly perfect.
I sigh as I get home after the second week. That day specifically had been kind of fun because I had made a new friend, named Quentin, had gotten to text Caleb and Katie during math because the substitute had made it a study hall, and then had been told in gym that we'd be doing archery the next week. I had always loved bows. I wasn't sure why. And my mom had always told me I couldn't have one, so I really wanted to use one.
"How was your day honey?" my mom asks as I step through the door.
"Good," I say, carrying my books into my room. "I found a new friend."
"That's good," she smiles. "By the way, your father's going to be stopping by later tonight."
"Cool," I smile. "Can we have spaghetti?"
"Sure," my mom smiles. "Any homework?"
"I don't think so," I say.
"Adam," my mom says sternly.
"I'll check later," I promise. "Can I please go play video games?"
My mom sighed and nodded and I turned to walk into the living room as my chest suddenly hurt. I stagger backward less than a second before the wall to my right exploded inward, a large chunk of wood spinning through the air exactly where my chest had been moments before. My mom is screaming, and when I turn, I see why. There's a scorpion the size of a Saint Bernard partially broken out of the floor, it's forearm-length stinger stuck partway into her stomach.
I want to scream, but before I can, a pair of hands grab me from behind and drag me out of the house through the hole in the wall. I manage to look back and stare up at the nearly seven-foot tall man with muscular arms and a single eye. I open my mouth and he turns, hurling me away from the house before snapping his fingers, the scorpion scurrying out through the hole in the wall, flinging my mom off of its tail and stopping beside the man.
"Who are you?" I ask, voice trembling as bad as my knees.
The man roars, lunging, only to suddenly shout in pain and recoil, an arrow sticking out of his shoulder. Then another falls from above, driving itself through the scorpion's head, the scorpion bursting into a cloud of sand, leaving the arrow. The man turns to run, but before he can get far, a ball of fire explodes to life in front of him before fading, leaving my dad behind, murder on his face, golden armor catching the light and shining, and a golden bow in his hands. The man roared, lunging at him, only for my dad to draw and fire an arrow into the man's face in one fluid motion, the sand parting around him as the man dissolved.
"Dad?" I croak.
"Come here," he says. "I'll explain once we're there."
I nod and walk over and he sets a hand on my shoulder. Instantly, blinding light fills my eyes, and I feel warm. Then, the light fades and we're on the side of a hill, standing in front of a gigantic, ancient pine tree.
"Where are we?" I ask.
"Come on," my dad says, walking past the tree.
I follow, and within seconds, a bunch of kids, mostly older teens, are standing around us, wearing similar style armor to my dad's, though theirs are either leather or what looks like copper. They also all have swords, shields, and spears. However, almost the moment they see my dad, they bow.
"It's an honor," the one in front says. "Please come in."
My father nodded once and the others led my father and I the rest of the way up the hill, past the pine tree, then down into a valley beyond. as we were walking in, I could see cabins, like you'd see at a summer camp, in the bottom of the valley before us. Past them there was a beach, and there was a forest all around the camp.
"Where are we?" I ask.
"This is Camp Half-Blood," my father says. "It's a camp for people like you."
"People like me?" I ask. "What do you mean? And is Mom..."
"She's gone Adam," my father says. "I'm sorry. But this is your home now."
"Why can't I live with you?" I ask. "And what did you mean people like me?"
My father sighs as we finally reach a large log-cabin-style building, a centaur stepping out of the door. I stagger backward but the centaur chuckles. He has a bushy brown beard, curly brown hair, and a kind smile.
"No need to be afraid," he smiles. "My name is Chiron. Welcome to Camp Half-Blood."
"What is Camp Half-Blood?" I ask. "Will someone please tell me what the heck is going on?"
Chiron looks to my father, who sighs. They lead me inside to an empty room near the back where my father and I sit down.
"The first thing you need to know is that my real name is Apollo," my father says.
"Like the Greek sun god?" I ask.
"Exactly," he says. "That's who I am. The god of the sun."
I stare at him before snorting in amusement. "Right. And that would make me a demigod, right?"
"That's right," he says, completely serious.
"No," I say. "You're not...I don't...Dad, I'm Christian."
My father grimaces. "I know. But that doesn't change who you are. Your divine blood will attract monsters. And you'll have some abilities that other people don't. Here, at Camp Half-Blood, you will be trained to defend yourself, and to control your abilities."
"I'm not...I'm not the son of a god," I say. "Even if you're right about monsters and superpowers and stuff like that, I don't believe you're a god. If anything, you're some kind of alien."
Chiron laughed.
"If that's what you choose to believe, then that's fine," my father says. "In any event, this will be your home. Now come with me. I'll introduce you to your half-siblings."
I sigh and nod, following him out of the building.
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