First, I want to apologize for updating so late. I know you don't want to hear my excuse, so I will just say that I've been busy.
Second, I want to apologize for name-confusion in the prologue. I had a really hard time thinking of names, and then I kept changing them for reasons that you don't care. So to clear things up: Aiden and Madeline are Percy's and Annabeth's children, and Christina and Amelia are Jason's and Piper's children.
I gave you guys a really long chapter to make up for everything. Anyway, I think it was long. The bottom of my computer screen says that it's 2,292 words long.
Enough of my talk, let's get on with the story!
DISCLAIMER: NO MATTER HOW HARD I WISH I WILL NEVER OWN ANYTHING RICK RIORDAN WRITES... :,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,(
At the Grace Household: Christina's P.O.V.
It was the first day of summer vacation, and I couldn't wait! I thought that school would NEVER end. My only comfort was my best friend, Aiden Jackson. He and I have known each other...well I guess since we were born, and before that even. Our parents have been friends since they were our age, so we've grown up together. Even my little sister, Amelia, has been best friends with Aiden's little sister, Madeline, since they were born.
Right before I had woken up, though, I had been in a very weird dream. I was at this place, and there were people sword fighting, rock climbing, shooting arrows from bows (AN: That was strange to type...), and a bunch of other training-type stuff. The weird part was, though, that I felt at home there. In the dream I just wanted to run and join in the sword fighting; I felt as if I would definitely beat whoever I played against. It had all felt so real; it made me wonder if I had ever been there before...
As soon as I woke up, I wanted to immediately go back to sleep. All of the sudden, I was soaked and shivering because someone had dumped a bunch of ice-cold water on me. I am going to kill Amelia...
"Wakey-wakey, eggs and bakey!" my little pest of a sister said to me in a sing-song voice.
"I was already up, you dope!" I probably would have said something worse, but Amelia must be the biggest tattle-tale to ever walk the face of the earth. Once, when I was ten and she was three, she ripped all of the heads off of my Polly-Pockets, and I called her a poopy-head. I was only ten, so I couldn't think of anything else to say. Amelia started crying and ran to my mom telling her what I said, and I got dish-duty for a week. I tried telling my mom about my dolls, but as soon as we went back to my room to see them, they were all sitting in a neat row, heads still on. They looked even nicer than before, with their hair all brushed down and outfits smoothed out. You would have thought that someone had snapped their fingers and made the dolls go, Poof! All better. My mom got this weird look on her face, because she and I both knew that I could never be so organized. I was worse than my mom when it came to organization, which is not a good thing. Secretly, though, I was upset about the dolls being okay. I hate all of that girly stuff. Always have, always will.
"Come on," Amelia whined, "Daddy's making french toast with bacon and eggs!"
"Ams, (A/N: Pronounce it like "Aims") how many times do I have to tell you? I'm a vegetarian!" People tell me that I'm a lot like my mom, Piper. We have the same multi-colored eyes, we're both vegetarians, not organized, brown haired, and most things girly. We're not tomboys, though. At least, I don't think we are.
"Fine. Though I have no clue as to how you can live without bacon." She said as she shook her head in wonder.
"Now get out so I can get changed!" I half yelled-half spoke to her. I threw a sneaker at her to send her one her way, and she yelped and started yelling for dad on her way to the kitchen. Sigh.
I went to the dresser and grabbed a pair of ripped jean shorts, an orange tank top with a purple pocket (A/N: See what I did there with the colors? ;D ), and a pair of short black and white converse. I left side-braided my hair with an eagle feather. Wow. I guess I really am like my mom.
I left my bedroom with my bed unmade, clothes thrown all over the floor, and my dressers covered with so much paper, pens, and other crap that you could barely tell they WERE dressers. I nodded in satisfaction. Just how I like it. I ran down the hall and made a left. As soon as I reached them, I bounded down the stairs and across the hallway into the kitchen where the smell of bacon was wafting from the pans on top of the stove. Ew.
"Morning, Mom and Dad!" I said cheerfully as I saw my dad slaving away at the stove and my mom sitting at the table drinking her routine cup of black coffee.
"Morning, Chrissy!" Mom said, in what seemingly was a good mood.
"And how is our fine teenage daughter doing this morning?" Dad asked me as he gave me a bone-crushing hug. I swore I could hear my ribs cracking.
"My gods-God, Jason! Don't suffocate the poor girl," my Mom said with a laugh. There was something odd about that sentence. I could have swore that I heard her say "gods" right before she said "God." I was probably just tired.
"Where did Ams go?" I asked. I thought I had heard her go into the kitchen.
"GOTCHA!" I heard a voice shout as someone tackled me to the ground. I glared at Amelia as I poked her on her shoulder. As soon as I made a connection, a little spark burst and left a small, red mark where I had touched her. How the Hell did THAT happen?
"OW!" Amelia yelled. "What was that for?"
"I...I don't know," I said. I looked toward our parents, and saw something strange going on between them. Mom had a shocked look on her face while Dad's was worried. "Dad?" I looked at him expectantly, but he just looked at the floor. "Mom?" She looked at me gravely, like something had happened that couldn't be reversed. "What's going on?"
"Honey," Dad started, "there's something we need to tell you."
"Amelia, sweetie, do you think you could go to your room for a little bit? We need to talk to Christina." Mom asked nervously.
"Okay," she sighed. She left the kitchen and I could hear her walking (more like stomping) up the steps and slamming the door to her room.
"Christina," Mom started, "do you know about Greek and Roman mythology?"
"Well, duh," I snorted. "I thought everyone did?"
"The thing is," Dad said, "they're real."
"Ha ha ha, you guys are so funny," I rolled my eyes. " Now tell me what you really need to tell me."
Neither of them opened their mouths to speak.
"Wait, you're serious?" I gasped. "How the hell is that even possible?"
"The gods have never died out, neither in their Greek nor Roman form." My mom explained.
"They're still around," Dad continued. "Chrissy, have you ever heard of demigods?"
"Uh..." I racked my brain for an answer, and sort of found something, but it didn't make much sense. "Isn't that when gods like have sex with mortals and then the mortals get stuck with the babies `cause the gods had a one-night stand with them and didn't want the burden?"
My parents mouths hung open.
"I, um, wouldn't put it exactly like that, but that is one way of putting it," Mom said weakly. "How did Percy and Annabeth do this again?"
"Maybe we should I.M. them. I'll be right back," Dad said as he hurried out of the room. All of the sudden I heard water spraying a bright light in the hallway.
"What's Dad doing? I thought he was going to I.M. Percy and Annabeth," I asked, confused.
"He is, sweetheart," Mom said. "Just not the kind of I.M. that you're thinking of. Maybe we should go see how it's going, all right? Good. Come on." Mom seemed as if she was in some kind of a daze. Her eyes glazed over and she slowly walked out of the room.
Meanwhile, in Chrissyisconfuzzledland, I felt as if my head was about to explode. Greek and Roman gods are real? Why didn't my parents ever tell me ahout this? And why did they get so nervous when I talked about demigods? Unless...HOLY SHIT!
I raced into the other room. "You guys are demigods?!" I wanted to start yelling and a bunch of other crazy stuff that would most definitely got me sent to a mental hospital, when I saw this: Percy and Annabeth were floating in the middle of the room. My jaw dropped.
"Jason, Piper, you sure you need us to tell her?" Annabeth said.
"Yeah, I mean, come on. We have a life to live, you know," Percy complained. Annabeth smacked him upside the head.
"Seaweed Brain," she muttered. They had always called each other that. Everyone had nicknames for each other. Percy was Seaweed Brain, Annabeth was Wise Girl, Mom was Beauty Queen (she hated it though; she slapped anyone who called her that, even Dad), Dad was Sparky, and Mom and Dad's friend Leo was Repair Boy. Hold on a sec. I had electricity jolt through me before...Dad's nickname is Sparky...he always shocked us, even when it wasn't winter...
"Oh my god!" I exclaimed. "Dad, your father is Zeus?!"
"Pipes, you told her?" Dad yelled.
"Of course I didn't! Not yet anyways," Mom said.
"It all makes sense now," I said, slowly nodding my head. "Seaweed brain, son of Poseidon. Wise girl, daughter of Athena. Beauty queen, daughter of Aphrodite. Repair boy, son of Hephaestus."
"Wow. Your daughter catches on fast!" Percy said in amazement.
"There's something else," my mom said.
"Chrissy, we need to take you to CJPHB," Dad said.
"Uh, that I can't catch on fast. What does that stand for?"
"It means, Camp Jupiter, a Place for Half-Bloods. It was a way to combine the two sides, Greek and Roman." Annabeth explained.
"The room is spinning. Why is the room spinning?" I said, suddenly dizzy.
"Annabeth, don't smother the girl with too much knowledge," Percy chastised. "She needs to take it bit by bit, not all at once."
"Fine," Annabeth sighed.
"But still, we need to get her to camp as soon as possible," Mom pointed out. "We have no clue what her powers might be or who will claim her."
"Well just tell me how long I have to pack for and I can be ready to go in about one hour," I said.
"Um, Chris, the thing about camp is..." Percy started. He looked at my mom pleadingly. She sighed.
"Thanks, Perce. Really, I mean it. So Chrissy, this camp...it's all summer."
"What?!" I shouted. Everybody winced. "How am I supposed to go to a camp for three whole months? What about my plans? My friends?" How can I go to a strange camp for a whole summer? Wait. Hold on. If Percy and Annabeth are demigods, like Mom and Dad, then that means...no. No, no, no no! "Aiden and Madeline? They're like me?" After I got that out I realized something. I sighed, "At least I've got Aiden, right? So we can still be together?"
"Yes," Annabeth said.
"Honey, how long do you think it will take you to get ready?" Dad asked me.
"Well, I have to pack virtually my whole summer wardrobe, right? So if I just pack how I normally pack, I should still be ready in an hour." When it comes to packing, once again, I'm like my mom: I just randomly shove things in a suitcase.
"At camp, though, you get a whole stack of camp t-shirts. They're purple with orange lettering saying 'CJPHB'. So, you only really need to pack shirts for the weekend. Also, you should bring a dress. At the end of the summer, there is a camp dance." Annabeth explained.
"Uh, I don't really do the whole dress-up thing, Annabeth. Also, I don't dance," I told her. "Dressing up to me usually means a pair of converse, a dark skirt, and a nice light colored shirt. And when it comes to dancing...let's just say that I have too many accidents in that department." I didn't want to explain that one. My history of dancing is just too embarrassing.
"Wow, Pipes," Dad said. "Chrissy really IS just like you." My mom blushed with pride.
"All right, that's enough of that. Go upstairs and get ready," Mom ordered. "We'll meet you down here in exactly one hour, okay?"
"Do you guys think you could come over and watch Amelia for us?" Dad asked.
"Obviously," Percy snorted. "I mean, you can't bring her to camp, right?"
"What Percy MEANS is that we would be happy to watch her," Annabeth said after smacking Percy upside the head. "We'll be there in a few minutes."
Percy waved his hand through the rainbow-screen on their side, and they vanished.
I ran upstairs to start packing.
Okay, I know. SUPER crappy ending. But I couldn't think of how else to end it without going into the next scene.