A/N: Hi. Sorry this took so long, it's just school's been hectic on me and it's slowing down my writing. Those of you reading my other story 'The Thief and the Eagle' I apologize and I hope I'll be able to update this weekend. Also, because my wonderful reviews so kindly asked, there will be Percabeth (obviously), Jasper, Jason/Reyna, Thalico, and many more but that's all I'm saying. Just to make it clear, everyone here is human, the summary says 'No Gods'. So, Enjoy!
P.s. Rick Riordan's the genius, not me.
Take Me Higher: Jason G. POV
Chapter 2
I. . .have a broken family.
It's not something I really like talking about. Plus I've never told anyone else about it. Not even my friends. But I guess I might as well tell someone.
I've got a mommy and daddy just like you! With just a few minor problems though: they're divorced, they completely despise each other, and they separated me from my sister.
Yeah, I have a sister. Her name's Thalia and I'm lucky if I get to see her twice a week nowadays. Together the four of us lived in a run-down apartment in one of the not-so-nice neighborhoods in Brooklyn. We were basically poor. My Dad worked a dead end job as a ground control operator at JFK airport while my Mom went for a shot at acting.
But one day—by stroke of sheer luck—Dad's manager got fired for negligence, and he was promoted. Slowly then, year after year, he made his way up the ranks. He got a better salary, more vacation time, and family benefits. My Mom though. . .wasn't so lucky. She started complaining that he was spending more time at work than with her, she started accusing him of seeing other women, that he wasn't making enough money to fulfill her career, that she couldn't handle the both of us. They fought constantly after that, and one day. . .he just couldn't deal with her anymore. So he filed for divorce.
But that was back when I was just 4, and Thalia was 6. Fast forward 11 years, and it's a much different picture.
Thalia is staying with Mom in our old building, and I'm living with Dad in a big apartment in Lower Manhattan.
Well, 'living with' aren't exactly the correct choice of words. I go to Westover Military School which is just outside the city, so on school days I stay in the dorms, and Dad spends his days at JFK as head of security; it's a 24-hour job. If he's not there, he's always on his phone managing it. The only time he's really there is to show his 'date of the week' his king size bed. Guess motel rooms were considered below him.
Anyway, I'm getting sidetracked.
To be honest, military school really isn't that bad. I mean, yeah it's terribly strict, overly formal, and a major joy killing machine, but. . .it's still a high school, right?
There's classes, students, sports, friendships, rivalries, dates, drama. You know, normal stuff.
"CADETS! ATTEEEEEEN-TION!"
…
Well. . .almost.
We stood at attention in front of the school yard, waiting for permission so we could enter our classes. Everyone was wearing their white military button shirts under their dark purple jackets and dress pants, the school uniform. At least we didn't have to wear ties, believe me those are a real hassle if you don't know what you're doing. We stood like this on EVERY SINGLE MORNING. But after a while you just learn to get used to it.
Lieutenant Lupa, our school principle and supervisor, stood at the front doors in between two flag poles; one had the American flag, while the other was a deep purple with the letters S.P.Q.R and a bald eagle atop in gold, it was the school's flag.
"Listen up, pups." She ordered. She liked to call us her pups. No one really knows why. Maybe she had a pet dog or something.
Although, she does have a way of giving off this animalistic, even wolfish, vibe to her; she would respect and honor you if you were considered tough enough and you did things right, or she would tear you to shreds, without so much as a second thought, if you were too weak and couldn't get the job done. That was Lt. Lupa's way. Weakness was not an option. And if that wasn't enough, her chocolaty red hair tied back in a tight bun and piercing silvery eyes only added to her already intimidating demeanor.
"As you all know, this Saturday is the friendly match against Goode High School." A few kids in the crowd scoffed in response, me included.
Please, we all knew that game would be anything but friendly. Especially after what those Goode guys did last year. There was no way this was going to be a fair match.
Lt. Lupa glared at us, "Now, before any of you pups get any smart ideas, let me make this clear; there will NOT be a repeat of last year." She eyed a few of the more mischievous cadets for good measure. Even I'll admit it's hard not to get a bit fearful under her gaze. "I will not tolerate any incident this time. Three cadets were discharged without honors and I will not hesitate to do the same again."
"Do I make myself clear?"
We all straightened and nodded, "Yes, lieutenant."
She nodded back, "Dismissed!"
We walked in, making a wide circle around the lieutenant to avoid contact, like she had some contagious disease.
!#$%^&*()
. . .
I was assaulted by a hall of weapons. They weren't dangerous, really. Most were protected by a framed Plexiglas case and the ones that weren't could hardly do any real damage. There were hundreds of them, dating from completely different time periods. Crossed medieval swords and shields hung next to a few Revolutionary pistols you'd think only Jack Sparrow would know how to use. Antiqued civil war rifles stood next to real military issued M-16s. It was one of the perks of military school, if you were into that sort of stuff of course.
As I walked to my locker, one glass case in particular caught my eye.
It was a simple wooden frame, fairly bigger than the rest. It was one of those cases the school used to shelve its trophies and achievements.
We had a pretty good collection, even if it was a bit dusty. Military medals, basketball trophies, soccer trophies, there was even a silly purple #1 foam finger. But I wasn't paying those any attention; I was more focused on one of the empty shelves. There was an empty circle free of dust implanted on the center of the wood.
Just looking at it filled me with a sense of dread and failure. For what seemed like a meaningless piece of nothing, that empty spot carried a lot of weight around Westover.
It was a long story. One the school didn't need to hear for the umpteenth time.
"Don't you know it's bad luck to stare at it?" A voice to my right said.
I looked over to the voice. It was just my friend, Reyna Whiscott. (A/N: does anybody know her last name? If she even has one?)
I smiled at her, "Hey, Reyna." But one sideways glance back at that empty spot wiped it off my face in an instant.
She noticed my mood change. "You know it wasn't your fault, Jason," she continued. "How was anyone supposed to know those idiots from Goode would be stupid enough to steal from a military school?"
I shook my head, "They took our Eagle, Reyna." I retorted miserably. "It's not whether I thought they'd do it or not. It's that it happened in the first place, under my watch no less."
She pursed her lips. It didn't seem her attempts at cheering me up were working, so she opted for the next best thing: shifting my focus.
"Look, that's not important anymore." I looked back at her cynically. Her dark eyes showed she meant what she said, though it was still a bit hard to believe. "What's important now is that you show those bastards who they're dealing with. Nobody steals from this school and gets away with it. This Saturday is your chance to restore our teams' honor."
I couldn't help but crack a smile again. It was good to know I still had a few people behind me for support, especially with a girl like Reyna. You won't believe how tough the competition is here at Westover, in everything! Grades, sports, debates, popularity. . .the list goes on and everyone is gunning to be the number one guy or girl. She was one of those people too, but that didn't stop her from lending a hand.
"Thanks, Reyna. . .I really needed that."
She smiled back; her eyes softening a bit as she did. "You're welcome, Jason."
We stood there for a while in a comfortable silence.
Until the peaceful silence was broken by a very unwelcomed guest, "Aww, isn't that sweet?"
Me and Reyna broke our gaze and stared daggers at the intruder, Octavian. The two of us have always had our share of differences, which in other words meant—we hated each other's guts with a burning passion since we laid eyes on each other years ago. And it's not like we tried to hide it. It was one of the schools many open secrets.
I sighed in annoyance, "What do you want, Octavian?" I questioned harshly.
He looked at me with mocked shock, "Oh, what do I what? Well, let's see. I want what everyone in this school wants, a good team Captain. A strong Captain with vision, understanding, and courage."
Reyna scoffed. "That definitely crosses you out, Octavian. At least Jason didn't need a big mouth to get where he is now."
I smirked at her response. Reyna hated him just as much as I did. Octavian didn't give a damn about the school or its students; he was only in it for the power and control that came with being a leader. And as great as speaker Octavian was, he couldn't back up his words. I could, and that's all it took to be a leader.
"Why don't you tell your little girlfriend to mind her own business, Jason. Or are you going to hide behind your friends again? I always thought a Captain could fight his own battles."
I balled my fists, "She's not my girlfriend, and I'm not hiding behind anyone."
He grinned. Then he did something I didn't expect. He turned to Reyna and said, "Well, you were right about one thing Whiscott. He didn't need a big mouth to become Captain; all he needed was a phone call and a few hundred bucks from his daddy."
I swear I was just about to put my hands around his bony neck until he ate those words, when the bell suddenly rang.
"Well, that's my cue. See you later, Grace." Then he was gone.
I could still feel blood boiling after those words and I knew my face was probably as red as a tomato. I hit the nearest wall just to vent some of my anger out. The impact was a bit more forceful than I had wanted, but I hardly noticed. "That spineless little cockroach." I simmered.
Reyna nodded, "No kidding. You should've knocked him out when you had the chance."
I shook my head, "Wouldn't have done much good, he's too hard-headed."
She smiled lightly, "Maybe. Now, come on. We don't want to be late for Mr. Terminus' class, God knows what he might do if we don't have uniforms ironed out."
She was right. Mr. Terminus was an OCD freak of nature. Going on endlessly about the rules, boundaries, and regulations we had to follow to the letter. He practically lived by the school's handbook.
So we broke into a run. The last thing I needed was another problem to add to my already growing list of them. I had too many things going on in my mind as it was, one of which was to see my sister, Thalia, this weekend. And the other was the game that could make or break my future as Captain of the Romans.
A/N: So, you guys like it? I'm not too happy with a few parts but maybe it's just me. So please REVIEW! You'd be doing me a huge favor.