Author's Note: I do not own any of the characters except Juliet and Oliver (he will appear later). All rights go to the amazing Rick Riordan.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
I lowered my book and glanced around my room, searching for the source of the sound. Everything looked normal. The posters of various celebrities hung on the blue wall, just where they had been for the last two years, ever since my mom and I moved here from New York. I couldn't see anything unusual out of the second story window and the small bookshelf in the corner was still stocked with my favorite novels. I shrugged and looked back down at my book.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
This time I stood up and set my book down. I cautiously walked over to the window and opened it. When I peered out and looked onto the front lawn, my heart almost stopped. There, standing directly below my window with a couple of pebbles in his hand, was the most gorgeous boy ever to walk the face of the earth. My mouth fell open and I stared dumbly for a couple of seconds, gazing into his piercing blue eyes and wondering how a single human being could be so perfect. After noticing his strong jawline, muscular arms, tousled blond hair, and blinding smile, I realized how weird I probably looked and I quickly closed my mouth and regained my composure. I was about to say something when Prince Charming spoke.
"Rapunzel, Rapunzel. Let down your hair." His voice was as smooth and thick as honey.
"Wrong fairy tale, Romeo." I called back. He grinned at me and I had to grip the window sill to stay on my feet.
"Any fairy tale with you is the right one." He replied. The twinkle in his eye made me desperately want to leap out of the window and into his strong embrace. It took all of my self-control not to swoon, but, to my extreme embarrassment, a dreamy sigh escaped my lips and penetrated the heavy summer air. Dream Boy continued to grin at me and I felt like I was drowning in his swirling, blue eyes. I knew I had a goofy, dreamy expression plastered on my face, but I didn't care. I slowly rested my elbows on the window sill and set my chin in my hands. I felt like I was in a dream. Mr. Perfect lowered his eyes to the ground for a moment, and when he raised them they weren't blue anymore. They were hazel, like mine. I lifted my head from my hand and furrowed my eyebrows.
Whoa, what? I thought to myself. Through his white smile he spoke.
"If you don't get up in five minutes I'm going to slap you with this bacon!"
"No!" I jerked awake and grabbed at thin air, but it was too late. Romeo was gone. I groaned and fell back in my pillow. I turned my head and saw my mom standing next to my bed with a plate of bacon in one hand and a greasy spatula in the other. She was glaring at me with her hazel eyes.
"Finally!" she exclaimed and threw her spatula hand in the air. "I thought you were never going to wake up! We have to leave in two hours and you aren't even packed yet!" she tossed a piece of bacon at my face and I scowled as it hit my right eye. I sat up and started eating it. Mom turned and left my room, probably to make more bacon.
I sighed heavily and shoved my blankets off of me. I walked over to my closed window and look out at the ground. Nothing. I sighed again and began my daily routines. I grabbed a pair of blue jeans and a plain pink t-shirt from a pile of fresh laundry in the corner. After getting dressed, I checked my reflection in my vanity mirror. Since my hair was naturally straight it wasn't very tangled from sleeping. I quickly ran a brush through it and watched as it cascaded in a blonde waterfall down to the middle of my back. Next was my face. Large hazel eyes, perfectly pink lips, and an average sized nose. I grimaced as I looked at my facial features. There was nothing that stood out; nothing that would make me memorable. I just looked like another typical California girl.
I walked down the stairs and stepped into the dining room. Mom had finished making breakfast and was sitting at the table, scrolling on her iPhone. I sat down across from her and pulled the plate of pancakes towards me.
"This is a nice breakfast." I said casually. Mom looked up from her phone and nodded.
"I wanted to make something special since we aren't going to have a kitchen for the next week." I nodded in reply as I took a big bite of my pancake. We had been planning this trip to the West coast for weeks now. Ever since we moved to Los Angeles, we had wanted to take a road trip along the coast, but it had taken longer than we had thought to settle down and for mom to find a job. Dad had left us with next to nothing and it took almost sixteen years for us to be able to live comfortably. I don't remember much about Dad, but from what Mom has told me he was a real charmer, and a jerk. I swallowed another bite of pancake, along with the memory of my long gone father. Today was supposed to be a happy day.
"Well, I'm going to go and finish my packing and so should you." Mom said, putting down her phone. "I'll clean up when I'm done packing."
"Okay," I replied. I stood up and began walking back to my room when Mom suddenly added, "Oh, and can you grab the mail real fast?"
"Sure." I retraced my steps past the dining room table and to the front door. We had a short driveway that led onto the street of a small neighborhood. It took Mom forever to find this spot when most of LA is a crowded city. I walked to the end of the driveway and pulled the mail out of the mailbox. As I walked back to the house I shuffled through the mail. I wasn't surprised when there was nothing addressed to me. When I reached the steps to the porch I raised my eyes from the mail and froze in my steps. My eyes grew wider as I realized what I was seeing. Long legs were curled up to fit under a black aviator jacket and a head of untidy black hair was resting on a pair of pale, folded arms.
Not five feet away from me, a boy was passed out on my porch.