This kid was nice looking.

He was fairly short, with short blond hair and a stocky stature. Not as good-looking as Percy, but I was attracted to him. He was nice, too. When I tried to repel him, he pushed on because he wanted to push on. He wasn't scared away when I made my deductions.

Why was I thinking like this? Why was I thinking about boys being romantic interests instead of girls? It was probably just a phase. Hormones. But-I wanted him. I wanted to be with him. What was going on? Why was I thinking like this?

After our conversation at the campfire, I couldn't wait for dinner the next day. I hadn't had good food in a while, and while the s'mores were delicious, they didn't feel like a real meal. After the bonfire I went to bed quickly, cradling my things so as to keep potential thieves away. No one other than John had really talked to me-I thought I had a somewhat demeaning mein. It scared people away. Just the better for me.

I woke up to the Hermes kids jostling me. A blond boy with blue eyes and a mischievous smile that could be seen in any Hermes kid woke me up.

"Hey, what's your name, kid?" I rubbed my eyes and sat up.

"Sherlock. What time is it?"

"Whoa, dude, you're British. Weird name. It's like 7:00. Time for breakfast!" The boy must have had a stash of coffee, because his breath reeked of espresso and his energy level was off the charts. I nodded, grabbing my new shirt and the jeans from yesterday. "Oh, you don't have to get dressed. No one does." I shook my head, preferring to change anyways. "Whatever."

He bounced away from me and I went to the bathroom to change and make myself presentable. When I returned, everyone had gotten together to go to breakfast. I followed in the back of the line, grabbing my notebook and pen so I can continue my biographies of the people around me.

I'd devised a system: I'd sit near a certain person, listen to their conversations, look over their clothing and facial features, and deduce as much as I could about them. Some might call it stalking, but I'd like to know what to say to people to get rid of them if they talk to me. Or, if they seemed smart enough, to get them to keep talking to me. That hadn't happened yet.

This time it was Cally Shannon. She wasn't a daughter of Hermes. She had dark, curly hair, and a wealthy mother. She had a gigantic crush on a Hephaestus boy named Red. Other than that, I didn't have anything written down. Thankfully, she took to sitting on the edges (claustrophobia? Traumatic experience?), so I could easily sit next to her.

I soon spotted John, but before I could make any rash decisions, Percy and a satyr came over to me.

"Hey, Sherlock! Enjoying camp?" He was tired, and I didn't want to make him unhappy, so I nodded enthusiastically. I was becoming a great liar (it takes practice). "This is Grover, the satyr I told you about. He knows a satyr named John, and-"

"Yeah, I met him."

"Oh, really?" Grover said. "I didn't know."

"Yeah. He seemed nice."

"Cool," Percy said. "I'll help you with training after breakfast, if you want." Grover looked confused, but the idea delighted me.

"Dude, we have to talk to Chiron," Grover said. He looked at me like I was intruding on their conversation and mumbled, "Remember?" to Percy. I immediately didn't like him. He was the type of idiot to condescend me because he was seventeen and I was only fourteen. I rolled my eyes and returned to my food. Percy and Grover left, whispering to each other. I continued to write about Cally until I heard a voice behind my ear.

"What in hell are you writing?" I turned and saw John himself, looking confused and sweet. I shut my notebook quickly.

"N-nothing." He leaned in and whispered to me.

"Do you have a crush on Cally or something?" I shook my head quickly.

"No. No. I'm just...it doesn't matter."

"Oookkaaayyy...do you want to come to my table?" I looked at the satyr table again and wished Grover wasn't there.

"Sure," I replied, in spite of myself. I grabbed my food and we walked to his table.

"How are you liking it here?" John asked, attempting small talk.

"It's nice. The Hermes kids are a little...intimidating." He grinned.

"They're pranksters. Just don't draw attention to yourself. The crazier and more outspoken you are, the more likely you are to be a target."

"You sound like you've had experience with that." He looked down, nodding.

"At school, people would make fun of me because they thought I was crippled, since my legs are...not human. I've learned how to cope." I smiled. "Speaking of school, how come you never really talked to anyone? Sorry, that's intrusive." He blushed. I shook my head.

"I'm just a bit antisocial, I suppose. People get scared away when I tell them what I'm thinking, so I don't tell them anything. I'd rather read, anyways. I'm totally addicted to crime novels." His ears stuck out in the cutest way.

"Cool. I'm not really a violent sort, I suppose. I mean, I am, but I'd rather help than hurt."

"Me too. But..." I blushed and looked down. Was I really going to tell this guy one of my deepest secrets? "I've always wanted to be a detective." His eyes lit up.

"You'd be so good at that! You seem really smart." He was so sweet. I couldn't get over the fact that I wanted so bad to just squeeze him, as in hug him and squeeze him and ruffle his hair...

This was so strange. I wasn't the emotional type. I was like Spock, in a way. Little emotion. Suppressed emotion. I controlled myself in a way many others did not-and that's what scared them about me. People called me a robot, a freak. But not John...John was interested, John was unique, John was adorable.

"Thank you." We talked about crime novels for a while and breakfast was over too soon. But he told me to come to his cabin afterwards, so I followed him down the dirt path to his satyr cabin.

I felt such strong attraction to him-to kiss him to touch his face, to be close to him. I was only fourteen, but it felt so real. It felt like love. The feelings I had for Percy were there, but they paled in comparison to what I felt for John, and I didn't even know his last name.

"What's your home life like?" John asked. I loved that he was asking such intrusive questions-it allowed me to open up more.

"I've got my dad, and a brother, but he never visits because he hates me and my dad." Why had I included that last bit? Mycroft hated both of us, but I didn't want to have to explain why.

"Why?" John asked innocently. I sighed.

"My dad was dating Mycroft's mum when he had Mycroft, then he cheated on her with my mum and ran away. He was stupid...afraid of responsibility. But he was stuck with me. Mycroft hates my dad for leaving, and me because my mum is the one my dad cheated with. Which is understandable. My dad tries to correct his mistakes, cause he's changed, but I still hate him. For being such an idiot." I said it all rushed, in a sort of blur. John looked shocked.

"Wow, that sucks..." He shook his head in surprise. "My home life is relatively stable but...I can't imagine having to deal with that." I nodded, a little embarrassed. We got to his cabin and he sat down on his bed, patting it to invite me to sit.

"I cope. What about you?"

"Like I said, relatively stable. My daddy goat died, but my mum is still alive and well. I live with her during the school year, back in England." I nodded. I studied his face and noticed how he was looking at me-it wasn't platonic. It was captivation. I shivered under his gaze, feeling self-conscious suddenly. He looked away. "Sorry, I was staring."

"It's okay."

"Are you going to ask me why I was staring?" I blushed as I realized his tone was flirty and sweet.

"Why were you staring?" I asked, playing along.

"Because you're really beautiful, Sherlock." I feigned shock, but I knew this was coming. He had obviously been hitting on me.

"Thank you," I said, putting my hand on his thigh.

"And you know what?"

"What?"

"I'd like to kiss you." This was the best kind of flirting. He was spelling it all out for me, letting me listen to the words and decide what I wanted to do with them. It was playful, yet serious. Adorable, yet terrifying.

"We could do that," I said, leaning into him.

"We certainly could."

"I'd like that," I said, my face nearly touching his.

"Okay," he said, and just like that, we were kissing. I'd never kissed anyone before, much less a boy. I'd never wanted to kiss anyone until John. It felt like I had been saving up all my kissing desire for him, and it was just spilling out of me. We broke and he smiled. "Ever kissed someone before?" I shook my head in awe.

"I didn't even...I mean I..." I stuttered out incomprehensibly.

"You didn't know you were gay?" I nodded slowly, looking down. "Me neither."

"So you're just as amazed as I am?"

"Amazed, confused, in love? They're all the same thing," he replied. Love, I thought. What a beautiful word.

"You're in love?"

"Are you?" I nodded.

"I think so."

"Good. Me too." He kissed me again, cupping my chin in his palm.


A/N: I'm sorry for taking so long! I'm working on Coming Out right now (the story, I'm not gay), so I haven't had much time to visit this, plus I had some writer's block with it. So...yeah. Thanks for reading!

Sarah