AN: This book will be a little different from the other books in the series, so we'll see how it goes...

1. A New Summer

Ahhh, Camp Half-Blood. A place of friendship and camaraderie, a place where great memories were made, where fun was to be had at every turn, a place I longed for nine months of the year…

Yeah, well, let me tell you what camp wasn't this summer: any of the above. Training had become intense, rigorous, and constant. We trained ten hours a day, six days a week, preparing for the war the Rebellion had promised. I do believe military boot camp or prison would've been a better option than Camp Half-Blood this summer…and I was to blame. I was the one to implement the new training schedule.

This was my first summer in-charge at camp, and I found I had a lot to learn about being a leader. It wasn't all "Yes, sir. Whatever you say, sir." It was more like "Who in Hades do you think you are? You're not the boss of me. Piss off."

Chiron told me it would be a tough row to hoe, and it would take time to earn the respect of the campers. He was right. I was the child of prophecy, sure, but I still had to prove to them that I had what it took to be their leader. Being a mortal legacy instead of a demigod didn't help my campaign much, but being invincible gave me a boost in that aspect. Having the curse of Achilles—whose namesake was one of the greatest warriors in Greek history—gained me a few points with the populous. And so did the cool new toys I introduced to the camp.

Over spring break, Noah and I took a road trip down to Miami to spend the week with Lexie and her mom. The official reason for the trip was to get a hands-on crash-course in modern weaponry from Thalia and the bounty hunters, but honestly, I just wanted to see Lexie and spend spring break with my two best friends. I hadn't seen them in a while, and I missed them both.

Lexie and I kissed on Christmas, and I thought we might get together as a couple, but it didn't work out that way. It was through no fault of our own; it was just bad timing for us to wander into relationship territory. She was considering joining the Hunters of Artemis at the time, and it would've been unfair to make her choose between me and immortality.

She'd been struggling with the decision she had to make about the Hunt, and Artemis was growing impatient. The goddess gave Lexie until her seventeenth birthday, May 26, to make her decision. After that, the offer was off the table. As of spring break, she was still undecided. Lexie had always been decisive and wasn't afraid to make tough choices, but this decision was a life-altering one, one she'd never be able to take back. I could understand why she was taking her time to consider her fate.

She and I had become closer over the months since Christmas, though. We began talking several times a week either via phone or IM, and the conversations let us get to know each other better outside the context of the life of a hero. I learned things about her I never knew before. She wanted to compete in archery in the Olympics, the smell of lavender that was her constant companion came from the special herbal shampoo that her aunt Calypso made for her, she was training to run a marathon for addiction rehabilitation in San Francisco in honor of her uncle Jason, and she thought blue SweeTarts tasted like soap, but she liked them anyway. It was little personal things like that, which made me feel even closer to her and made our friendship stronger and deeper.

The trip to Miami to acquire the skills and tools we'd need to defend ourselves against the Rebellion was a success. In five days, Noah, Lexie, and I had become experts (well, maybe not experts, but proficient) in modern weaponry: handguns, shotguns and rifles, tasers, tear gas and smoke grenades, and a number of other weapons. We were trained in the use of handcuffs and zip-ties for the apprehension of prisoners of war. We also familiarized ourselves with the new gear we'd be trading our bronze armor for: bulletproof vests, combat headgear, tactical belts, and holsters. We'd be training the campers in this new form of combat this summer, so we had to know everything.

The bounty hunters agreed to send a little of everything to camp, so the Hephaestus kids could get to work in the forges and arm the entire camp. We were shown how bullets could be modified to be harmless for training purposes. Paint bullets were best for training, and rubber bullets were a good option for shooting to incapacitate, not kill. I really liked that idea.

All in all, it was a good trip to Miami. We were able to get in a couple of trips to the beach between training sessions, the bounty hunters hosted cookouts at their warehouse every evening, and I even got a goodbye kiss from Lexie. That alone was worth the long drive down there.

I didn't talk to her much after spring break. We were both busy wrapping up year-end school projects, studying for finals, and I was playing baseball and prepping for the SAT exam. The last time we spoke was on May 21, and on my drive to camp ten days later, I had a fear in my heart that she wouldn't be there, that she'd chosen the Hunt.

I'd just arrived at camp and was getting my things squared away in my cabin when I noticed someone standing in the open doorway, leaning against the frame. To my great relief and elation, it was Lexie.

"Happy late Birthday," I said to her. "I tried to call you on the day, but I couldn't get you."

"I got your voicemail," she said. "That was a busy day for me. I had to break the news to Artemis and Mom that I wouldn't be joining the Hunt."

I wanted to jump up and down and clap my hands like a fool when she said she didn't join the Hunt, but I gave myself a mental slap and played it cool. "I wish you would've broken the news to me before today," I said as I walked up and leaned against the frame opposite of her. "Not knowing has been driving me crazy, you know?"

She smirked. "I know. I wanted to make you sweat a little."

"Why do you love torturing me?"

She smiled and shrugged. "It's fun."

After the relief of seeing Lexie, I was met with an equal amount of dread. I was informed we had several new campers this summer, which wasn't a bad thing, but come to find out, one of the new campers was a Stoll. We already had one too many Stolls here to begin with. Our Oracle, Morgan Stoll, was a handful on her own, but now her wild-eyed younger brother, Marcus, was here, too. If my head could ache, I do believe I would've had a migraine.

Marcus was twelve, which was about the average age for a new camper, and being an empowered legacy—a grandson of Hermes and Demeter—I guess his scent was beginning to get a little stout. I'd never met Marcus, but unfortunately, I knew his older sister well, and his little brother, Miles, once knocked me on my ass. And he was only two years old at the time. It was wholly embarrassing. I guess I'd have to wait and see how much trouble the middle Stoll would be.

Turns out, I didn't have to wait long. The little punk set off a stink bomb in my cabin on his third day at camp. I had to sleep on my cabin's porch swing for two nights while my cabin aired out. Morgan was so proud of her little brother for that bold move. I got my revenge, though. I ensured that the training schedules placed him under Russ's instruction. Russ was the toughest child of Ares at camp, and he was a hardass who wouldn't tolerate pranks. That was a nightmare for any descendent of Hermes. The twerp was gonna learn not to mess with the boss.

The weirdest thing by far this summer was the overwhelming support I'd gotten from the Ares cabin. Yeah, that's right, the Ares cabin. With the exception of Russ (who still hated me, because he thought I had something to do with his and Lexie's break-up), the Ares kids had gone out of their way to assist me in developing the new training regimens we put in place at camp this summer. We were preparing for war, and war was their specialty, so maybe it wasn't so strange that they'd stepped up and become my most insightful advisors, in spite of their superiority complexes that made them a pain in the ass to deal with at times.

They—in coordination with camp's trainer, Jason Grace, and the Athena cabin—set up battle tactics workshops, weapons training sessions, and command seminars. They organized games of capture the flag, which they modified to more accurately simulate a battlefield. We used firearms loaded with paint rounds instead of swords and spears in the games, and instead of capturing the flag, we captured the commander of the opposing team and forced a surrender. I also insisted that taking prisoners alive be the tactic in the games, rather than killing the enemy, because my conscience still struggled with the idea of killing human beings.

And I wasn't the only one with that hesitation. The Ares kids didn't seem to be bothered by the notion of killing people, but many other campers from an assortment of cabins were. So, after a vote, camp decided to take a kill-as-a-last-resort approach to war. In a private meeting with a few Ares and Athena kids, I was informed that this approach was impractical, that once the fighting started, that approach would be long forgotten and the instinct to survive would take over. Maybe so, but I didn't want to go into the fight with the intention of killing a bunch of mortals, so I let the vote stand. How things would actually play out on the battlefield was yet to be seen.

Camp counselors and older, more experienced campers became instructors and trainers, because with the increased training time, Chiron and Jason couldn't handle the load by themselves. Every camper and trainer got one day a week off, though, and those days rotated for everyone.

A couple of weeks into summer, Noah's and my day off fell on the same day, so we chilled together. We'd been hanging out nearly every weekend since our trip to Miami, because not long after we got back, he learned his mother was dead.

While we were in Memphis during the quest to New Orleans last Christmas, we made a few calls to see if his mother was living there, since they'd lived there before. We didn't find her, but that little bit of hope made Noah want to start looking for her.

Unfortunately, the investigators Rachel hired couldn't find Noah's mom, so Noah finally asked Nico to look into it and he discovered she was dead. She'd been dead for three years.

I'd been spending time with my best friend to help him cope, give him support, and take his mind off it. Today we shot some hoops on the basketball court for a while then went to the lake where we dove in to cool off and harass the naiads a little. After our swim, we kicked back on the dock and relaxed.

"So," Noah began. "Since Lexie didn't join the Hunt, are you finally going to tell her how you feel about her?"

"I don't know, man," I said. "It's been so crazy around here that I haven't found the right time to tell her. And if I do tell her, it'll change everything. Once I say it, I can't take it back."

He gave me a sideways look and asked, "Why would you want to take it back?"

"What if she doesn't feel the same way?"

He blinked. "You're kidding me, right? Dude, she gave up immortality for you."

I shook my head in disbelief. "She didn't do that for me."

"What other reason could she possibly have for not joining the Hunt?"

"You really think..."

Noah rolled his eyes. "Duh."

Disclaimer: I do not own PJO.