My name is Sienna Leefolt. I'm an only child.

My mom left me and my dad when I was three to go travel around the world. Unfortunately, she never made it back home. From what my dad told me, the plane she was on that was going to France took a sharp nosedive toward the ground and she died on impact. As much as I would like to know everything about my mom, I don't remember anything about her. The only thing I know is that I have her chocolate brown eyes and her laughter sounded like jingling bells.

My dad is a plastic surgeon for celebrities, so my family is kind of rich. We live in a mansion right outside of New York City- about an hour's ride away from Manhattan. Most of the time, I'm alone in my house so I try to go to the city to find something to entertain myself with, which doesn't include shopping. It's too complicated to try and find the right size in clothes and shoes.

I guess you'd describe me as pretty. Maybe. I'm not exactly like the rich other girls who wear pink frilly dresses and black stilettos with ten inch heels. No, I'm pretty like the average tomboy you'd find riding a skateboard through Central Park with her honey-brown hair pulled back into a careless ponytail that's about to come loose. And her big brown eyes are gleaming in the bright afternoon sun. Yeah, that's more like me.

If you see me on the streets, you'd assume I'd just rolled out of bed and grabbed a random shirt and pants out of my closet because it's mix-matching. I like to wear a plain pair of straight leg jeans with holes in the knees and a white t-shirt with my favorite pair of black All-Star Converse.

The loud talking from the television took my attention away from my thoughts. I turned the channel on the TV to something less vulgar. When was my dad coming home? It was past ten o'clock and it was a Friday night, which meant that it was Movie Night. Movie Night was a tradition my father and I came up with when I was nine because it was the only quality time we spent together, which was why it was so important to me.

I sighed and ran a hand through my messy honey-brown hair that cascaded down to my mid-back. I've been told that I have my father's messy hair that was hard to detangle. That was the number one reason why I kept my hair in a ponytail instead of wearing it out. And its length didn't help at all.

Someone knocked on the door and the housemaid, Maria, opened the door. It sounded like there was a huge thunderstorm going on outside. I heard a male voice talk with Maria in hushed tones. Was someone here for a business meeting with my dad?

Finally she said in her heavy Puerto Rican accent, "Sienna, someone is here to speak with you."

I racked my mind trying to think of who would actually care enough about me to come to my house. I mean, I didn't have a lot of friends at school and I didn't tell any of them where I lived. Plus, most people thought I was a total freak after I caused the principle to go crazy. What I mean by crazy is, like, mental asylum crazy.

I heaved myself off the couch and took the one hundred and fifty two steps required to make it to the front door. Standing there outside my door, soaking wet from the rain was a boy about my age, around seventeen or eighteen. He wore jeans and a white t-shirt with a green hoodie pulled over it. I eyed him suspiciously, "What do you need?"

He pulled a card out of his jeans pocket. He cleared his throat, "I'm looking for…" he squinted at the card for several seconds trying to read it, "Sienna Leefolt." He looked up from the paper at me, his sea green eyes a bit skeptical.

"That's me," I said, giving him the polite smile that was reserved for strangers and people I didn't like. "Are you selling boy scout popcorn?" I fumbled around in my pajamas pocket and pulled out a fifty dollar bill. I handed it to him, "This is all I have."

His eyes widened before he shook his head, "No, no, no. I'm not a boy scout. I've been given orders to pick you up." I gave him a quizzical look. Pick me up? I didn't see a limo outside and our butler was the only one who could pick me up. I tucked the bill back into my pocket.

"Where are you going to take me?" I asked him. He looked at me to Maria, "She has to leave." I looked at Maria in a pleading way. She got the hint and nodded before she walked off towards the kitchen to begin cooking a midnight snack for my dad when he got home.

"To a special camp for kids like you," he said quickly, once Maria was gone. I opened my mouth to say something, but he continued. "It's called Camp Half-Blood and it's for demigods, who are half mortals."

"If they're half mortal, then what's the other half?" I asked, the gears turning in my mind.

"The other half is from the Greek gods."

"Like Zeus and Hera?" I asked. He nodded. It made a little bit of sense, but I couldn't fully comprehend why he was telling me this. Unless…I was a one of those demigod people. "So what you're implying is that the Greek gods exist and I'm one of their offspring."

"Yeah, I guess," he said. I placed a hand on my forehead, "Okay, it's official. My life is totally screwed."

His eyes widened at this comment, "What?"

I ignored him, "So that's the only reason why you're taking me to Camp Half-Blood?"

"Well, you'll be safe there…"

I almost scoffed, "Safe from what?" I was pretty sure I could support myself pretty well on my own, even if I was living under my dad's roof.

"Safe from monsters. They exist too."

"Of course. Wait right here."

I turned on my heels and literally ran to where Maria was. I leaned against the counter and watched her do what she was paid to do: cook and clean. I could sense that she knew what I was about to tell her and I also knew that she wouldn't want me to leave. Especially since she didn't know the boy and neither did I.

"Sienna," she said, placing a hand on the counter, "Quédate aquí." I translated this into 'stay here'. My dad hired Maria purposely to help me speak Spanish fluently and in a way, it worked. If I hadn't learned, I wouldn't have been able to understand half the things Maria told me.

"Maria, I'm just going to stay there for a few days, maybe a week. Then I'll come right back, I promise," I told her. She sighed, "Escúchame, you cannot do things without your father's permission."

I rolled my eyes, "I'll be fine, Maria. Trust me. We both know that I know what to do in case of an emergency."

"Okay, I will let you go, but you must leave your father a note on where you're going and why." She went back to slicing the tomatoes into thin pieces. I stared at her back in disbelief, running my hand through my hair.

"Fine," I grumbled, ripping a post-it note from the junk drawer. I quickly scrawled down a message for my dad saying that I was going to Camp Half-Blood because I knew what I was. It was probably too vague for him to understand, but whatever. I was still following Maria's rules.

I jogged upstairs to my bedroom and pulled out my red suitcase from under the bed. Walking over to my closet, I began ripping clothes out and throwing them into the suitcase. I grabbed a couple pair of shoes that would go with the clothes I chose to bring. I decided that it would be a good idea to bring some extra cash so I stuffed some in the suitcase's pocket.

I dragged the suitcase down the grand staircase and by the time I made it downstairs, I felt like I had a workout. I brushed my bangs out of my face with the back of my hand. I came to halt in front of the boy who was leaning on the doorframe, his arms crossed against his chest.

We were about to leave when I realized I didn't know this guy's name. I stopped and when he saw that I did, he stopped too.

"What?" he asked me. He wore a puzzled look. "Did you leave something? 'Cause you can go get it if you want?"

I ignored his barrage of questions. "What's your name?"

"Percy Jackson," he said. I nodded and continued to go in towards the car he drove.

It was an all black 2011 Chrysler 300C and awesome. It was literally my dream car. Sure the red Mustang I drove was awesome, too, but I preferred a less noticeable car like Percy's. I'm sure he didn't have to worry about people trying to break into his car — or paparazzi following you around.

I put my things into the trunk and climbed into the front seat. Percy climbed into the passenger seat next to me. I noted his car was a stick shift. Cool. I closed my eyes and prayed that I would make it to Camp Half-Blood in one piece.