A/N: Hello everyone! Well, this is a long chapter for you! Or at least . . . it's a longer one than usual. I'll never understand how authors can write so much words in a chapter.

HEADS UP: Arabelle's birthday is in three days. I just want to mention that. All of this is in the same day that Riegan bitched at her about the book. This takes place in the afternoon, though. I'll probably explain how she was able to go back into her cabin next chapter.

Disclaimer: I don't own PJO. Never have, never will, but I do own Arabelle Camille :)


I was alone at my cabin, wearing my black, thin glasses. Everyone had gone somewhere doing something whilst I, being myself, stayed in the cabin, reading a book. To all those people who say reading is stupid:

Fuck you.

I could go on and on how books are the gateways to a magical realm. How books are so much better than reality. How easily I can connect to all these characters. Yes, I could talk forever about books, but my thoughts were suddenly interrupted when the wooden door had flung open.

The minute I saw who it was, I quickly tried to pry my glasses away and pushed it under my pillow. I started praying to every god I knew that he didn't see my glasses, but apparently, the gods weren't on my side today. Nico had currently taken the glasses from my pillow and examined it.

"What up with the glasses?" He shook it for emphasis. I clenched my hands to stop myself from slapping his head. I was worried that my glasses would break so to speak, and him shaking it didn't really help.

"I wear glasses." Of course, I didn't say that the first time he asked me. I said those words under my breath, and I definitely knew Nico didn't hear it. In fact, even he knew I was going to pull something like that off and so he waited. He waited for me to repeat my sentence.

I repeated those three words quickly in hoped that he didn't hear them. He did of course. His normal expression didn't change as I told him about my insecurity. My glasses were things I wasn't too fond of. I didn't hate them like you think I do, but have you ever seen a demigod wearing glasses?

You probably had never seen one because demigods don't wear glasses. At least, I'd never saw one. I was fairly positive I was the only one. Who to blame, you ask? It was my entire fault, naturally.

As a young, stubborn determined girl, I put all my time into reading. Words were so confusing, and I hated that I couldn't read properly. I spent most of my time, cooped up in my room, trying to decipher the letters on the book. Most nights, my dad would not allow me to stay up.

That didn't stop me, however. I would stay up all night reading and reading and reading. There wasn't a lamp in my room, and if I turned on the lights, my dad would surely see. I had to rely on the moon for light.

After all those late night reading, my eyesight started getting blurry. Not only can I not focus on the words on the board, I couldn't see them. I told my dad about my predicament, and he gave me glasses. I was okay with it before, but now?

Can you imagine someone who had glasses, fighting off a hellhound?

The scene would be hysterical.

"How come you don't wear it?" His question took me off guard. He didn't laugh; he didn't make any comment about it. He just asked that question as if we were having a normal conversation and asked me 'What's your favorite color?'

"I don't like wearing it." In public is what I don't tell him. "You should wear it." He didn't skip a beat after my sentence. "If you're fighting a monster, you need to be able to see. You can't kill a monster with blurry eyes. You need to be able to see clearly or else you could get killed."

I was astounded by his words of wisdom. I never thought Nico was dumb. I just didn't expect him giving me advice. I could hear the low chuckle escape from his mouth when he saw my dumbfounded expression. He moved closer to where I was brushed my hair back so he could see my ears.

He carefully placed the glasses in front of my eyes and smiled at the sight. "You look cute with glasses."

I could hear the teasing in his tone, but the sincerity in his eyes said otherwise. He actually thought I looked cute with my glasses on. Not wanting him to see what kind of effect he had on me, I rolled my eyes.

"Only you would say that."

_._._._._._.

"Well, well, well," the voice was evil. Those three words never meant anything good. In books, something always went wrong after the evil person said those words. I stopped walking as I took in the appearance of a smirking daughter of Aphrodite. How can I tell?

She's blonde and her clothes look like a stripper. She looked older than me, maybe fifteen or sixteen. Her blonde hair was unnaturally curled, and I could only shudder at how long that took. She barely had anything on. Her clothes shouldn't even be called clothes. Second layer of skin is what I would call it. Her shorts were so high up they should be underwear, and her shirt. Oh gods, her shirt! It was pink—I know, right?—and it looked super tight.

How the hell can she breathe in those things?

I didn't need anymore clues on who her parent was. I had no idea why the hell she was smirking at me, and I didn't want to find out, but of course, she was gonna tell me anyway.

"I never saw you around before. Now I can see why. Your glasses make me want to puke on them." She faked gagged, and I had to stifle a laugh. Her insult was very smart. I had to bite my tongue to refrain myself from giggling.

"Do I know you?" I probably didn't, and I'm glad. I was so happy I hadn't met someone as disgusting as her before.

"Honey, everyone knows me. I'm Candy," she gloated. "With a 'K', btw."

Even her name sounded like a stripper. I was serious. She couldn't even spell her own name right.

"And why should I know this?" I really wanted to get away from this girl. She was a slut, from what I can tell, and I just don't do sluts.

"Because I'm popular," was the only thing she said to me. This was really, really stupid. This felt like a clichéd scene from a book, and I just wanted to skip the next chapter. "And because you're a loser, and all losers know my name."

I would lie if I said that didn't bother me.

"Who the fuck do you think you are!" I spat. "Just because you're a hoe doesn't make you better than everyone. I don't even know why you're in camp! This is a place for training, not for fucking around with random guys." My jaw was clenched, and it took e everything I had in me, not to throw my sword in her heart.

If she had one.

"At least, I can get guys."

"I'm fucking thirteen, bitch. Does it look like I want a boyfriend?" She was fucking irritating the hell out of me, now. If she didn't stop, things were going to get violent, and I might not have been in a lot of fights, but I know who would win.

The corpse in my closet would probably be the proof.

"Oh please, I see the way you look at Nico." Her fake eyes sent a glare. How do I know it's fake? Because it's blue, and she had brown eyes. It's obvious those are fake, and she doesn't even need contacts.

I bet you every book I had that she just wanted to change her eye color.

"Nico is fourteen."

"And available," she added. "Someone with a body like that won't escape me." She licked her lips, and I shuddered.

Ew.

Was she really talking about how she's gonna seduce my friend?

It's disturbing, though, that she would want a fourteen-year-old boy. Sadly, though, I could see why.

Nico might be young, but four years of training certainly made him look older. His body was tall and lean. His body was toned, and he didn't have too much muscles. I swear, guys who look like the Incredible Hulk freak me out.

I decided that I would save Nico from this slut because . . . well because. Do I need another reason why I should save him?

With some sort of a plan, I began my act. "Hate to break it you, honey, but he isn't available." I tried sending her a fake overprotective glare, and I prayed it looked like one.

"Who says?" Her eyes said she didn't believe me.

"I do, actually. So just fuck off and screw yourself." Please, please, please just go away. The amount of hate I had for her was astounding, to say the least. I never knew you could hate someone this much. I turned around, preparing to stomp off, but her voice stopped me.

"Don't kid yourself, darling. Why would he want you?" For starters, I wasn't a slut like you were, but I couldn't bring myself to say it. I didn't want to give her the satisfactory of winning and so I pointedly ignored her comment and walked away.

"He'll never want you!" I didn't stop or turn around. She laughed, "I hope you know that!"

I did know that.


I kind of know that a 13 year old wouldn't say that sorta shit to someone who's 15 or 16, but Arabelle isn't a normal 13 year old. She reads a lot of books, and I think it's safe to assume that she's older than her actual age.

I hope you like it; leave me a review and tell me what you think :]