I've always wondered how Thalia and Luke met up. We know how Annabeth met Thalia and Luke, but it never actually says how Thalia met Luke. So after much searching on FF for how Thalia met Luke I discovered that there were only two of them, and I really didn't like them all that much. Sorry to the authors of them if you're reading this, it just didn't seem very realistic with how Luke and Thalia reacted around each other. Anyways back to my point, this is my version of how they met. Hope that you like it :).

Disclaimer: I do not own pjo or any of its characters

"Thalia get me my make-up bag, I'm going out!"

I heard my mother's voice, but I didn't respond right away. I never did.

"Thalia! I said get my make-up bag!" This time I did respond, she sounded angry and whenever she was angry it was never good. I got up off the floor that I was sitting on and went to find her make-up bag.

"Which one, mom?" I stressed the word mom knowing that it would annoy her. I knew when to stop though. Get her too angry and she would tell her newest boyfriend, who would then loom over me and threaten me and to make the message clear would hit me. Every new boyfriend that she got I got a new scar.

It seemed to be an initiation for my mother's boyfriend. Hit Thalia and give her a new scar or bruise and then you're good enough to be my boyfriend. That seemed to be the message that my mother sent out because she did nothing to stop them from hitting me when she was mad, she even seemed to enjoy it at times.

"Don't sass me girl." She growled from the bathroom. "I want to look nice for Hayden tonight."

Wonder what ever happened to Dominic. He was over last night again, this time I didn't get a bruise or cut. An improvement since he had been the one most pleased to hurt me in some way to see my mother's look of satisfaction.

"Just get me the blue one and quick. He'll be here soon and if I'm not ready when he arrives it's your fault." Her voice was like acid and against my will I let out a little flinch. Thank goodness she couldn't see me flinch; it would only make her happy.

I looked at her vanity and tried to finds the blue one. The thought of how many make-up bags she actually needed eluded me. She had a red one, an orange one, a green one, a blue one, two purple ones, a pink one, three black ones, one the colour of mustard and a plain white one. I know that she's a movie star and everything. But I still don't understand why she needs so many make-up bags. I grabbed the blue one and took it to her.

She snatched it out of my hand quick when I entered the bathroom and gave me a look. It clearly said, at least you're good for something, but boy what I would give to just have you out of my life for good.

"You're welcome." I said stiffly and angrily.

Her eyes flashed with anger. "Did I ask what you thought? No, so don't speak."

When I was younger, about seven I would quiver in my clothes and try not to cry. Now I returned the stare with one of my own. It said, I hate you and can't wait to leave forever you good for nothing skank.

For all of you that don't approve of my language she has a new boyfriend every week, sometimes three or more. If that doesn't classify her as a skank then tell me what does.

She just finishes applying her make-up when the door bell rings. She gives me a look that says, go away now or you'll regret it.

I give her one of my sullen looks and left to go to my bedroom. I heard her new boyfriend Hayden open the door and they exchanged idle chit-chat before leaving. As soon as I heard the door close and the car drive away I breathed a sigh of relief. With my mother gone for the night I didn't have anything to worry about.

I went to the fridge and opened it up, looking for something to eat. As usual the only thing that was in the fridge seemed to be beer. My mother drunk beer all the time. When she was sad, when she was angry, when she was happy, if there was something to celebrate, or if she was just bored she would drink and drink. Leaving me to deal with her hangovers and try to avoid getting hit by anything that she threw at me.

I went to the cupboards and saw a lone, crumpled, and battered box of mac-and-cheese, who knows how long it had been in there for. Still it was better than nothing. I got a pot and filled it with water and let it boil.

While it was heating up I went into my mother's bedroom again and looked for her wallet. My mother had multiple wallets on account of her placing them somewhere and then forgetting where they were, one of the few advantages of her almost constantly being drunk. She some how had enough sense to keep her I.D. on person, probably to make sure that she was able to get into clubs, and only kept cash in her wallets that she constantly lost. The thing was, they weren't really lost or misplaced, they were sometimes in plain view. She was just to lazy, or drunk, to look for them properly.

Everytime that my mother went out I would search the rooms of the house for them and take the cash. Since she never actually looked for them there was no danger of being punished for stealing her money. So far I had $438 saved up, once I had at least $500 saved up I was getting out of here and going on the run.

I heard a bang in the kitchen and I sprinted there to see what had fallen, scared that it might have been the pot of boiling water. When I got to the kitchen though there was nothing on the floor and the water was barely boiling. I went over to the stove and saw that it wasn't even turned on. Weird, I was positive that I had turned it on before I went to raid my mother's room for cash.

As I turned around I saw a bracelet on the table, it was sliver and had a squarre charm in the middle. It looked like an lday with snakes in her hair, seriously weird. It looked like solid silver though, maybe I would be able to pawn it. I stashed it into my pocket and turned my attention to my soon to be dinner.

This time I stayed with my dinner to make sure that it cooked. Searching my mother's bedroom could happen any other time since she was always out and about with her boyfriend, or to drunk to notice what's going on around her.

This time with me watching the pot, nothing crashed, and I ate a normal dinner of Mac-and-Cheese. While I was eating I examined the bracelet more. The links didn't jingle no matter how much I shook it, which I thought, was odd. I found myself staring at the snake lady and I was mesmerized with it. It seemed like the snakes were moving, but I knew better. It was a bracelet, the snakes couldn't move, but all the same, it just seemed so alive. I decided that I wouldn't pawn it, I would keep it. I had to make sure to not wear it around my mother though; she wouldn't take kindly to me wearing a piece of her stolen jewelry.

I finished dinner and went to my mother's room and started raiding it. I found one of her old wallets that were from a couple of years ago. I knew this because it was camouflaged; she went through a phase a couple years ago where almost everything was camouflaged. I opened it up and was disappointed; there was only $20 in it. I was still $42 short. I cursed under my breath and continued searching.

I didn't find anything else though, and soon my mother came tripping through the door reeking of booze. I retreated to my room and pretended that I was sleeping.

It didn't work though.

She burst through my door and I bolted straight up. Her hair was messed up, her lipstick smeared, and her dress was ripped at her shoulder. Guess Hayden either got angry, or was impatient.

"You!" She slurred pointing at me with a beer bottle. "It's your entire fault!" She threw the bottle and I ducked as it flew past my head and crashed into the wall, spewing the rancid liquid everywhere.

I bit my tongue, wanting to ask her what was my fault this time, but I knew there was no point. In her mind I was responsible for everything that went wrong. The reason why there wasn't beer in the fridge sometimes, the reason why a boyfriend might drop her, why she couldn't fit into some of her old clothes anymore. Everything was my fault.

"Get out of the house now!" She yelled; spit flying from her red face. She pointed towards the door and I just stared at her.

She was telling me to get out of the house. She didn't want me anymore and she wanted me to leave.

Screw collecting $500, I'm leaving now.

"Gladly." I spat at her. Her eyes followed me as I packed a backpack quickly. I threw a pair of pants, another shirt, my money stash; I made sure she didn't see that, and whatever was on top of my dresser. I zipped it up and grabbed a blanket off my bed. I turned to face my mother and didn't find a hint of remorse, or heart-break, or sadness in her eyes or face. I walked out the door without a second thought, glad that I was finally free from that hell-hole and the woman who only hated me, and trust me the feeling was mutual.

So I should probably be working on my other stories, but this has captured my interest at the moment so I'm going to finish this and then get back to my other stories. Review please and tell me how I'm doing.

:) :) :) *fudgemonkey* :) :) :)