Another day of school. Ugh. I don't understand what kids have done to deserve this torture. Then again, it's probably just worse for me because of my ADHD and dyslexia. Here I am, sitting in my homeroom class waiting for the hell to begin. Before I go on, I should probably tell you about myself.
Well, my name is Percy Jackson. I am a junior at Goode High, a normal kid, and captain of the swimming and football teams. You could say I'm popular, but I don't flaunt it or use it to my advantage. Many girls throw themselves at me, but I always politely decline. I don't know why they do that. Sure, I've got the "gorgeous, windswept black hair", and "mesmerizing sea-green eyes", and a, please forgive me for this, "rockin' bod", but I just don't understand it. I also don't understand why I have been dubbed a "player"; I've only ever had the one girlfriend, and I never cheated on her – it was a somewhat mutual break up.
Speak of the devil – Rachel Elizabeth Dare, my only ex-girlfriend, just strutted in with her posse of populars. Those girls wear way too much make up and should really get more clothes that fit. Anyways, Rachel walks up to me in her short skirt, too tight shirt, and stilettos. She runs a pink coated fingernail down my t-shirt clad chest and whispers, almost seductively,
"Hey Percy, wanna hang with me after school? We could go to my house and watch a movie, snuggle on the couch…" she trails off. I, trying not to shiver at the unwanted contact, gently grab her wrist and push her hand away from me.
"I've told you before Rachel," I start to explain, keeping my calm composure, "We are done. I don't want to go out with you anymore. Please leave me alone."
"But Percy, babe…" she starts, but I don't here the rest, because at that moment, she walked in. And she was beautiful.