Tristen

--

I stormed into the Hermes cabin, in my usual bad mood, but this time, it was justified… and it was directed at one person. I just needed to find him, so I could kill him…

"Where is he?" I screamed. Some of the younger people ducked away out of my line of fire.

My eye blazed, and my damp fringe fell over from in front of one eye, to in front of my whole face.

The fringe's colour reminded me what had happened, I scowled.

I saw some of the older, cocky cabin members stifling back laughs.

"Who?" said an unknown voice, it was struggling to keep from laughing, I could tell.

"Jake! Who else?" I screamed.

I heard someone sniggering, "Oh, I think he's swimming in the deep blue sea." He said, and then just burst into hysterics, several voices joined in.

Focusing my sight on where the voice was coming from, my eye fell upon Jonah, who was a son of Hermes. He and his twin brother Jeremy were Jake's friends.

I didn't like Jake Tyler. You see, he was a son of Tyche, the goddess of good fortune. It meant he normally got whatever he wanted, anything that was to do with luck went his way. He was popular, and had friends, and was good at all the things demigods were meant to be good at, sword fighting, Greek, climbing, etc.

So in summary, the complete opposite of me.

I wasn't lucky, or popular, I didn't have a lot of friends. I wasn't good at climbing, or sword fighting.

And to prove my point, see exhibit A, my hair.

My, now blue hair.

You see, I very idiotically left my shampoo on top of my bed, and Jake must have taken it, and replaced it with some sort of blue hair dye, and it must have been strong, my hair was black, so I dreaded to think what he put in there.

I bolted from my cabin.

"Jake!" I roared, "Where the fuck are you?"

He poked his head around from behind Zeus's cabin.

Stupid blond haired git. "Hey, it worked!" he exclaimed, a smile covering his face.

"Oh well, very good for you!" I exclaimed.

"I should run now, shouldn't I?"

I ground my teeth together. "You think so?"

I picked up a handful of gravel, and then...

"Tristen!" Chiron yelled, "Drop the rocks!"

As I let the stones trickle out of my hand, my shoulders slumped down, and then I went to go see Chiron.

I should explain why the normally calm Chiron yelled at me. For one, I don't listen unless someone's yelling at me, and two, he was all the way at the other end of the of the cabin circle.

I looked up under the mop of hair that pretty much covered my whole face.

"Yeah?"

Chiron was in centaur form, meaning he towered above my small five foot four form. Of course this meant if felt like a naughty child getting told off.

"Tristen! You can't keep getting into fights!" he sighed, folding his arms.

I looked up at him; my fringe fell in front of the eye it wasn't meant to. "Technically, I can, and I'm a lot stronger- I can win."

"Taking on the son of Tyche though? How is that logical?" He pointed out.

"Anger isn't logical, look what he did to my hair!" I exclaimed.

He tilted his head. "I thought you did that yourself, it suits you."

"Not the point!" I snapped.

"Tristan, calm down, right, I let you off this time, just leave the boy alone, it's not going to go well for you."

I pivoted around, and headed back to my cabin, until Chiron called me back.

"Tristen! You've got Greek now, where are you going."

"Όποια και αν είναι, να είμαι εκτός karate." I yelled, waving my hand.

That roughly translated to "Whatever, I'm off to karate."

--

I entered the deserted Hermes cabin, and I made my way over to the mirror, and started to apply my makeup. I put heavy eyeliner around my eye, made sure my fringe completely covered my right eye, how I liked it, smoothed down my clothes, and exited the cabin.

Pulling a key out my pocket, I unchained the bike from a nearby tree.

Everyone either picked on me, or avoided me, but everyone knew not to touch my bike, guitar, or iPod, under pain of death. (I was one of the few campers who had a job, because I was one of the few who were able to leave camp grounds, we were 2 miles from the nearest town.)

Cycling down the road, peddling fast, I started singing at the top of my lungs, engrossed in my iPod, off in my own little world.

Who gives a fuck about an oxford comma?

I've seen those English dramas too.

They're cruel.

I continued until I reached the nearby town, I ducked into a small corner shop.

"Hey Cody!" I yelled at the shop keep, while reaching into the fridge, and pulling out a bottle of coke.

I strolled up to the cash desk of the empty store, and saw my co-worker sitting on his butt, feet up on the desk, TV remote in hand.

"Busy day I see."

He looked up at me under a mop of messy brown curly hair.

He was a cute dude, little bit of a zit problem, but nice.

"Yeah, I've been rushed off my feet all day," he said, leaning over to take a drink from a can with a straw on it.

"Sure, right, I've got to go to karate, add it to my tab."

"Sure thing Tristen." He said, reaching up, and putting another tally mark on a sheet of paper entitled "Tristen's bottles of Coke."

"I'll pay on Saturday."

He laughed. "Sure you will, I'll see you on Saturday, have fun at karate!"

I quickly hopped onto the bike I had dumped, and peddled to the other side of the tiny town, which had a population of around 1,000 people-ish.

I chained my bike to the front of the leisure centre, and quickly ducked my head through the door.

"Sorry I'm late!" I yelled.

Everyone looked up at me and smiled "Tristen!" Some people offered me high fives.

That was why I came to karate. I had friends here.