Disclaimer: I do NOT own Heroes of Olympus, or Percy Jackson and The Olympians, though I wish I did. All rights go to Rick Riordan.

Three kilometers. That was how far the distance was from the school to my house. That was also how far I ran.

You would think that I might have collapsed of exhaustion after the first twenty minutes. Truth be told...I almost did. But my strong legs and burning desire to escape the building behind my back kept me going.

When my gaze fell upon the red bricked walls of my home, I pushed my feet against the dirt even harder. The light on the porch wasn't switched on, which meant that no one was at home. Good.

I stormed up the porch, unlocked the door, and not bothering to even kick my Converse off made a beeline to my room.

Locking the door behind me, I threw down my bag and started to sob. The tears that fell from my eyes were not tears of sadness, nor were they tears of pain. They were tears of shame. I was ashamed of running from school. I was ashamed that my parents would be disappointed in me. Most of all, I was ashamed of running from punishment even though it wasn't my fault.

I took a glance around my room. It was nothing special, just a simple, box shaped space that was taken up mostly by a bed, a desk, and dresser. But the badminton racket hung over my bed was crooked, and the dresser was littered with snack wrappers, pencils, and eraser shavings. The bed was unmade. When I looked into the mirror I could see an extremely distressed kid who's too big gray hoodie was rumpled, and her jeans smudged with dirt. Her raven black hair was sticking to the sides of her tear stained face. Deep in her eyes, you could feel a barrier that was struggling to hold back a tidal wave of mixed emotions that threatened to spill.

Suddenly angry, I snatched up the diamond beside me and almost hurled it through the window, before I realized that the diamond I held in my hand wasn't the diamond that caused all the trouble in school. What the heck?

How did it get here? Did I take it from the principal? Were my parents hiding diamonds in my room? Did it follow me home? Did I summon it?

My curiosity got the best of me. I picked up the stone. It was slightly larger the than the first diamond, the size of an acorn. "If I did summon this diamond," I said out loud. "could I control it?"

I concentrated on the shiny surface. I wanted it to float up and zip around the room doing loop-de-loops and 360s. But some other part of me half-hoped that it wouldn't, and I could confirm that Mom and Dad had a stash of diamonds locked in a box under my bed, and somehow, one had mysteriously made its way to the floor.

But rise the diamond did...only to collapse two seconds later; probably because I was so shocked that it actually worked. "What the freaking heck?" I murmured.

I tried again, but this time I held out my palm and beckoned the stone to me. The diamond lifted up into the air, then hovered over my outstretched hand for a few seconds before it dropped with a thud.

I repeated the exercise again and again, until I could finally keep the diamond in the air for a count of thirty.

By that time, I was pretty tired and hungry. Levitating diamonds sure was a mental workout.

I unlocked the door, and slipped outside. I glanced at the cuckoo clock mounted on the wall over the fireplace. It was 2:17. I gasped in disbelief. Had I really been practicing that long?

Suddenly I heard something like a growl. I quickly scanned the living room for any potential danger that I should scream and run from (Gee, more running!). But then it disappeared, so I dismissed it as my stomach.

I set off toward the kitchen to make a sandwich, because a.) I didn't take a bite out of my lunch, and b.) I liked sandwiches.

When I was three paces away from my sandwich, someone spoke. "Looks like somebody's home early." I stiffened. How much trouble would I be in now? I slowly turned around with my hands where they could see them, to face my father, mother, and brother.

A little bit about my parents. Dad is a tall, buff, Chinese Canadian man. He has straight black hair that was pointed like an arrow, and deep, chocolate brown eyes. He seems like a fairly terrifying guy on first glance (believe me, if Dad was the one who picked me up at school, Gus wouldn't have even dared.), but behind his tough looks and aura of military commander, there was a man who almost cried out of joy when he found out that his daughter wasn't lactose intolerant like he was.

But Mom, however, was a different story. She was petite and dark skinned, with long, curly, cinnamon brown hair, and striking gold eyes I've wanted since I was young. Her kindness was one of the best things I loved about her, and she was willing to help just about anyone. She loved horses, and wasn't afraid to smack the riding crop out of the hands of jockey who abused his steed.

Then there was my older brother Sean. He was fourteen, dark skinned and curly haired, like Mom, but had brown eyes like Dad. He held the title of Teens Yo yo Trick Champion, and was playing with his beloved yo yo at that moment. He liked to pull bad pranks, bad jokes, and bad puns. But he has his moments, and I look up to him as the best older brother in the world.

I tried for a smile. "Uh, hi Mom. Hi Dad." I nodded to my brother. "Sean. Why are you home so early?"

Sean yawned, apparently bored. I could tell because his eyes had that sleepy look that screamed, I WANNA SLEEP, BUT I'M TO BORED TO SLEEP! "Why are you home so early? Mom got a call at work from Mr. Babafat, then she called Dad, then they had to pick me up at school. Imagine being called by your teacher to the front desk, then marched out in front of everyone, in your favorite class." (Sean's favorite class is art. He draws like Mom, but he prefers doodling to sketching.) "And guess what? I was already working up the courage to talk to the pretty girl who sits three desks in front of me!"

I secretly hoped that Mom and Dad would be absorbed in Sean's rant, to the point that I could slip away -unnoticed- and disappear of the face of the planet.

Until...

"Sean," Mom chided. "Lay her off a little. She's still in shock. And speaking of that," She turned toward me a looked me straight in the eye. Shoot. Why didn't I disappear of the face of the planet sooner?

"Megan," Mom started. The look in her eyes was firm, but I sensed that something was troubling her. "There's something very important that we have to tell you."

R&R!