"I don't think he can help it, Chiron," said Annabeth.

"Why would you say that? He could just be a sarcastic, rude, child," Chiron argued, shrugging nonchalantly.

"Because," she persisted, "When he says these things that hurt peoples' feelings, it looks like it… well, it looks like it hurts him on the inside, you know?"

"I still fail to see what you think is so special of this child—" Chiron muttered before his words were cut off—

"He could be the one of The Prophecy!" shouted Annabeth.

Chiron just took a deep breath, attempting to calm himself.

"I was going to say—before you so rudely interrupted me, might I add— that I trust your judgment. I will send a satyr to your school by Monday."

Annabeth was overcome with excitement, shouting a triumphant "Great!" at Chiron's long-awaited approval.

"However," Chiron cut in, nigh extinguishing Annabeth's ecstatic mood. She knew very well that whenever Chiron said "However" like that, most of the time there was a catch. "I will need to know one thing that is vital to finding him."

"And what's that?" she asked, raising an eyebrow archly at him.

"What is the child's name?"

"Oh!" exclaimed Annabeth. She smacked herself on the forehead for forgetting. "His name is Gavin. Gavin Spence."

"As I said," said Chiron primly, "there will be a satyr at your school on Monday."

After that, he didn't even say goodbye— he just dissolved the connection of the Iris-Message. Annabeth was so excited. She may have found a demigod all by herself; and not only a demigod, but hopefully one of The Prophecy.

The prophecy had stated that five children, all standing out from the other demigods, would all perform heroic deeds and aid in the destruction of Kronos.

Of course, there was always the chance she was wrong. When she thought of that possibility her heart sunk. Part of her wanted to IM Chiron back and tell him not to send the satyr.

Wait a second, she thought, Gavin' sarcasm isn't the only reason why I think he may be the first in The Prophecy. I mean, this kid can see the future! Well, kind of, anyway…

Annabeth pondered her reasoning again. And he has excellent healing powers, I suppose. She thought on this in more detail. In The Prophecy, it stated that the first child would take complete attributes of the Olympian Parent. She went over the possibilities of who Gavin's parent might be, which led her to the obvious assumption of Apollo. Unfortunately, two things contradicted her hypothesis.

1. She had never seen Gavin shoot an arrow, so she couldn't be absolutely positive.

2. Apollo claimed that his lips could not speak a lie. This was partly true with Gavin, but he, although he obviously had a very sarcastic mind.

Annabeth would have to let it all fall into place. Even if Gavin turned out to be only an ordinary demigod (if one could call a demigod "ordinary" at all) she would be praised regardless, but she fell asleep thinking about what would happen if she truly had found the child of The Prophecy.

(A/N now we meet our main character and keep in mind the story is in his POV)

I walked to school on a rainy day in Seattle. Of course, Seattle is rainy almost everyday. School was boring, as usual. The only thing schools made me realize was that I would never, ever want to become teacher (although it might be fun torturing kids the way my teachers torture me).

Anyway, you might as well know. I am..."cursed" so to speak. I am doomed to forever speak whatever crosses my mind. Lucky me, right?

Wrong. I'll never forget this one time in the mall that this older chick asked me which of these yellow dresses made her look better. I didn't want to be mean but I told her neither because they both made her look like a giant lemon.

There are too many times that my curse took over and got the better of me. In fact, I could sit for hours spilling my guts to you and I still wouldn't be done telling you how many times I've insulted people or hurt their feelings.

But back to the present. Currently, I was on my way to school when I happened to see my younger friend, Annabeth. We go to the same school, but we are not in the same grade under any circumstance. She's fourteen whilst I, on the other hand, am seventeen.

But somehow, I'd always had the feeling that she was wiser than me. More experienced. More worldly. Like she has seen the horrors of hunger and battle and struggle— maybe even death. I shook that awful feeling from my mind and ran to catch up to her.

"Hey!' I called to her. Her eyes lit up when she saw me, turning this illuminant grey colour. Sometimes I thought she had a crush on me. It surprised me even more that I'd never blurted it out in front of her.

Annabeth smiled casually. "Hey," she chimed, meeting my eyes.

I raised an eyebrow. "So."

"So?" she repeated.

"I wish you'd stop repeating whatever I say," I told her with fake annoyance in my voice. She laughed slightly, picking up her step as we neared our school building. But as we were trekking on, my mind flashed with a whir of images.

"Whoa," I exclaimed, nearly breathless as a picture was forming in my head.

Annabeth was determined to know what was going on, as always. "What? What's wrong?"

"I think I'm seeing the future again," I told her, blinking in confusion.

She grinned as if this was good news for her. I ignored that and focused on what I was seeing in my head.

"A girl," I told her, "a new student in my first period class. She has brownish hair and blue eyes. She's wearing a green shirt and long pants. A-and she's… she's walking with a type of limp?" The last part sounded like a question, as if I doubted what I was seeing. But nevertheless, I opened my eyes and looked at Annabeth. A grin spread across her face like she had just struck gold. I didn't bother asking why, she was always so personal.

We reached school without another word between us. I got on campus only to find the school bully, Warren, waiting for me at the fountain. I was supposed to do his history homework last night but I hadn't, mostly because he didn't scare me. I knew I could kick his big fat, ugly butt any day.

We reached the fountain only to be stopped by two of his stupidly smirking goons.

"You guys need glasses?" I asked them haughtily, "You're in our way."

"Depends," Warren snorted, "you got my homework?"

I took a closer look at him. He'd dyed his hair last night. Again.

"Nope," I replied.

He took a step closer and Annabeth pushed him back. "Leave him alone, Warren," she ordered, her eyes taking on a steely glint.

"Oh so now you have your fourteen-year-old girlfriend defending you?" Warren sneered, smirking at me with his fleshy lips.

"Stay out of this Annabeth," I muttered. I felt my cheeks heat up. Annabeth glared at Warren. It was then she seemed to notice his hair was a darker shade of blond.

"Do you know that when you dye your hair you kill brain cells?" she asked him, clearly trying to avoid a fight.

"What?" he asked. My curse started taking over.

"Then you had better stop dying your hair," I blustered, "you need all the brain cells you can get."

"That's it, you little punk!" he said.

He swung a horrible punch at me and I dodged it easily. I made a snap choice and punched him in the jaw as he cried in pain. Warren staggered backwards. While he was still gathering his wit, I looked to see what Annabeth was doing. She was fighting Warren's goonies, and doing it like it was a piece of cake. They already had tons of bruises and she hadn't a scratch on her.

I turned my attention back to Warren. I fluidly kicked him in a place where he wouldn't want to be kicked—let's just leave it at that. The fat bully doubled over in pain while I then clasped my fists together and thrashed on his back as hard as I could, knocking the wind out of him and creating a whoosh! sound. I turned to see if Annabeth needed any help. Surprisingly, she didn't. I managed to catch a glimpse of her thrashing the two goonies' heads together and slam them down into the fountain.

"Nice," I told her out of pure shock.

"Thanks," she murmured, flexing her hand. Somehow I got the feeling she has done this before. But there wasn't much time to ponder that thought before I heard the jarring RING! of the warning bell. It was a "wonderful" reminder that we still had to get to class. Annabeth ran off and I left Warren on the ground gasping for air.

I walked into my first period class, and of course, I was late.

"Nice of you to join us Mr. Spence," said my History teacher; Ms. Long.

"Sorry," I told her. She dismissed that comment.

"You missed the introduction of our new student," she informed me grimly, tapping her fingers on her desk. I scanned the room and there in a seat was the girl from my "mental picture."

"This is Alli," Ms. Long continued. I had to sit next to the new girl because all the other seats were taken.

"Mr. Spence," Ms. Long nagged again.

I looked up at her in annoyance, trying (without much success) to tune her out.

"You were late again today. Perhaps you can tell me the name of the Ancient Greek God of Wine's name?"

I racked my brain. This was the only test I didn't study for: Greek Mythology.

"Apollo?" I guessed. There was no way it was the right answer, but it was the only god's name I knew. I didn't know why, but his name just… stuck to me. The new girl buried her head in her hands.

"No," said Ms. Long happily, like she was pleased I'd answered incorrectly. "Apollo is the Greek god of the sun. Dionysus, however, is the god of wine."

"This is stupid!" I screamed, making almost everyone in the class jump out of there seat.

"Exuse…" started Ms. Long but I interrupted her.

"The Greeks were idiots! Now that you mention Apollo being the god of the sun, I remember you saying he drove the sun using a chariot. Now is that stupid on five million levels, or what? Just think about it! No one could drive the sun without burning up, and you'd have a very, very hard time tying the sun up to a chariot. Anything you try to use would just melt anyway."

"Mr. Spence!" snapped Ms. Long. "That uncalled for outburst just bought you a visit to the school counselor!" she pointed menacingly at the door. "Get marching, young man!"

"Oh good," I muttered sarcastically, "I haven't seen her since last Thursday and I am just dying to catch up with her."

She ignored that comment and wrote a hall pass (and a really nice, pink referral sheet) for me. With a gnarled hand, she handed it to me and I skulked out of the room in dread.

A/N thank you for starting my new story which will be a part of a series of stories. this was a boring chapter i will admitt but please read again i can assure you it will get better and funnier (hopefully)

-Jason Strong