Have I already given my rant on how you actually have less time to do stuff you like during the summer. Oh well. It's almost over anyways…

Disclaimer: I. DON'T. OWN. PERCY JACKSON. Seriously. If I did, do you think I'd be sitting in my room typing fanfiction? Notta chance.

Anyways, this chapter is for Kiliro, since she finally got me typing again (you go, girl!)

----

"God, Rach, where were you?!" Celeste was angry. "I had to eat all by myself, looking like the total biggest dork in the world."

"Sorry," I muttered, taking a huge bite of banana sandwich and began to change into my sports clothes.

"Again I say, 'whatever' Rach."

"It wasn't my fault, Celeste," I argued, "Ap-Mr. Sun kept me. He wanted to know where I'd learned ancient Greek," I lied smoothly.

"Which reminds me, where did you?"

"Huh"

"Learn ancient Greek, dolt."

"Oh. Um, at CTY."

"Come again?"

I sighed. This girl spent no time in the real world. "CTY," I explained, "Center for Talented Youth. It's like a summer camp for nerds. But it's really fun. You take your SATs, and, if you do well, you can take a three-week cram course at this camp"

She gaped at me. "You took the SATs to try out for a summer school? VOULENTARILY!?

The bell rang. "Never mind," I muttered, pulling on my archery gloves and snapping my overly long red curls into a ponytail. Really. I think it's been growing faster since I became a mystic oracle. Come to think of it, all the paintings of my predecessors have girls with hair down to their, like, feet. Great.

I turned to head out, but Celeste's voice rang out behind me, "Your bow, Rach."

Right. Archery class, or so I've heard, goes better if you have a bow. The school provided arrows, but students had to have their own bows. Mine was pretty basic. Definitely not the nicest bow out there, but I figured I didn't need anything fancy. I sucked at archery anyways. I looked down at my partially-covered palm, where the Ichor-sun still glistened. But maybe, now, I'd be wanting a new one.

"Ohmigod, Rachel!" Celeste's voice snapped me back to reality. (She's really good at that, isn't she?) She was standing with her back to me, staring into my sports locker.

"What?" I asked, cautious.

She spun around, her long blond ponytail almost striking me across the face, "This, stupid." She stood aside so I could see.

It was beautiful. A light, springy birch bow, inlaid with golden patterns. There were small golden suns; rose-cold cows; a girl, laden with treasures, perched on a tripod balanced over a chasm; a young man holding a lyre. At the bottom, there was an inscription in Ancient Greek. "Rachel, Pythia, Oracle of Apollo at Delphi," Along with this blessing:

Pythia renowned

May her words always prove true

Speaker for the gods

I pulled it out and was shocked by its height—it was as tall as I was, almost. The string, a golden spun cord, melded no the tips, which were covered in more golden etchings. I plucked it lightly and it made the musical twanging sound of a lyre.

I clanked back at the locker—there was a quiver too—a thick, hollowed branch, engraved with the same golden designs as my bow.

I pulled an arrow out—it was sleek and beautiful—as straight an arrow as ever existed. If I shot one of these I would never be able to go back to the comparatively warped, flawed school arrows. Well, so be it. At least I wouldn't hurt anybody with their celestial bronze tips…

Whoah, Rach, where'd you get those?" Celeste's pissed-ness evaporated as she leaned over my shoulder to se.

"Um…" I struggled for an explanation, "Um, it's a gift." I said, lamely.

"Duh, from who?"

"From whom" I corrected automatically, "And from a guy…friend"

"Boyfriend," she sang excitedly, "He's courting you, isn't he?"

I snored. "Not hardly. He looks young, but he's really absolutely ancient." Truth. "He's just a friend. Really."

"Boring," she huffed, "And a pity. He must be really rich."

"Yeah," I agreed, "Like, a god."

She sighed wistfully, "Young-for-his-age, handsome, rich, generous…"

"I never said he was handsome."

"Well, isn't he?"

"Ah…yeah."

"Ha!" she was triumphant.

"But he gets really jealous, like everybody in his family," I added, desperate to find a fault, "Once, his sister started, um, dating someone. Which she had promised before never to do. But she really liked the guy. So she ended up having sex with him on her brother's…bed." I swear I could feel eyes on the back of my neck.

"Anywho, he got super mad/jealous, and tricked her into shooting her ah, boyfriend."

"No way."

"Yes way. It happened. It was ages ago, though. They made up."

"He killed her boyfriend and they made UP?"

"Well, yeah. It took time though."

"C'mon. A couple hundred years maybe, but there are only so many years in a human life."

I shrugged. Who said there were human? "Well they did. Let's go now—we're already late."

-----

Lingusticsrock: Hey, that's a good idea… but probably not going to happen. My imagination isn't that twisted. Quite. And congrats on your cookie. Was it yummy?

Star-Gazing-In-LA: I like LA…My grandparents live there. Anywho, thanks? Wow, I'm kinda overwhelmed. That is officially the most enthusiastic review I have EVER had. So thanks. You're awesome.

Bookworm: Thanks… Do I know you?

Lf5: well gee thanks. (sarcasm, by the way)

Fire-chan: WRONG! Haha. And nope! But I already told you who she really is, didn't I? BTW, you inspired the CTY thing, incase you couldn't guess.

Madame J. Pantemercy: So, didya like it? Please say yes.

Rex-Impetus: Well that problem's solved now, isn't it. I'm glad you liked it. Still with me?

Kiliro: Well, those are the only things I get high off. LIFE MAN!!! Muahahahaha….What was that about pickiness?

Someone who's reviewing: Well, thanks for reviewing. That's a nice idea, since I don't think Rachel's real Dad spends much time in that area…Poor Rach…

Well, thankee very much to all my reviewers, as usual, I love you, and since I'm just back from France, bisoux. Sp? Clara-wa…help.

Be back later,

-Seiina