A/N: Hey, there! I'm back with another chapter... these will slow down a bit as I get into soccer season, though; just a warning. Thanks again for all the helpful reviewers!

Here we go with Chapter Nine...


MARILYN'S POV

I twiddled my thumbs.

The nurse's office around me was deserted. The stuffy silence threatened to suffocate me, and I tapped my leg. I went over once more the harsh reality of my predicament. A fight. I, Marilyn Jackson, had been in a true and legitimate fight. I swallowed the rising lump in my throat.

I surveyed the stifling room for the hundredth time. It was a small space; four cream walls tacked with endless posters of athletes, various diseases, and health pyramids. The leftmost wall was composed of mainly windows on the top half, though blinds had been pulled down. Cheap chairs were set up in a line beneath the windows. The back wall had three cots, one of which I was occupying, and a sink. The rightmost wall had large cabinets and a scale, and the front wall had Nurse Johnson's desk. The entire place smelled of antiseptic and wipes.

The door opened, and I snapped up my head, glad for the diversion. It was a tiny sniffling girl, soaked to the bone with water. A pang of guilt pierced my heart- that would be Will and I's doing. She didn't look to be older than nine years; a tiny thing, Italian-looking with dark, rich brown hair, hazel eyes, and thin lips. She had a bloody nose, I realized, but Nurse Johnson was gone.

"D-d- y-you k-kn-ow w-whe-re Nurse John-s-son is?" she stuttered, her eyes landing on my bruised cheekbone and most likely broken nose.

I shook my head. I really didn't; she had gone with Will a while back to check him for injuries, though I wasn't sure where. "No, sorry," I said, the guilt increasing.

She began to cry, and I resisted the urge to run. I wasn't good with children- they sprinted away as soon as they could from my sight. I hunched my shoulders in resolve. If karma did exist, then I had a lot of bad. I figured I could use some good. "Hey- what's your name?" I asked cautiously.

"B-Bonnie," she said, her voice still shaking.

I nodded, and then stood. I walked over to the sink, yanking a paper towel from the pewter dispenser. It was brown, and coarse, but it would have to do. "Here," I said, gently handing her the paper. "Pinch your nose with this, and tilt your head back."

Bonnie nodded, doing as I said, and went over to the cabinets. I poked around, finally finding a stack of towels. Her teeth had begun to chatter, and I wrapped a thin green towel around her shoulders.

"Thanks," she whispered.

"Welcome," I said. "Here, let me check that." I pointed to her bloody paper towel, and I tried not to wrinkle my nose in disgust. I got another paper towel, and Bonnie did the same with the first. "Keep that on for another thirty seconds, and then switch it, okay?"

"'K," Bonnie answered, her voice nasally from plugging her nose.

I laughed a little. "Alright."

The door opened again, admitting Nurse Johnson and Will. I cringed at Will's murderous glare, and Nurse Johnson shot me a look as well. Johnson walked over to Bonnie.

"Are you alright, dear?" she asked, though her tone implied that she couldn't care less. I couldn't help thinking that the middle-aged nurse was imposing. She was stern, mean, and, in general, unconcerned for our well-being. Ninety percent of time, she sent us back to class with a peppermint. Kids dreaded coming to the nurse's office at St. Gabriel.

Bonnie nodded. "She helped me," she said, pointing to me.

I reddened as Nurse Johnson glared at me. "What exactly did she do?"

"She gave me a paper towel and told me to pinch my nose and lean my head back," Bonnie told her.

Johnson snorted. "Looks like a student finally knows how to handle a bloody nose. Back to class, Bonnie."

Bonnie nodded dutifully as Johnson turned a critical eye to me. "Sit back down, Miss Jackson, before you injure yourself further."

I looked at Will, who was shooting daggers at me. "Um- Mrs. Johnson, are you positive that we should be in the same room together?"

"No," Johnson said. "But honestly, I don't care. Fight all you want and impair yourselves. I am going to make the assumption that you two eighth graders can handle the next ten minutes until your parents arrive."

My mouth felt dry. "Our- parents?" I asked, my voice sounding far away.

Johnson nodded. "You don't need to repeat it, Miss Jackson. Both of you, sit, and stop talking. You're going to give me a migraine with your endless chatter." She shuffled some papers on her desk. "If you'll excuse me, I have to deliver some papers. I trust that you can survive five minutes without me." She walked out of the office, the door slamming behind her.

Will crossed his arms arrogantly and leaned against the cot. The gesture made me want to punch him in the face. He smirked. "So- is this what you had in mind, Jackson?"

"No." My answer was short, curt, and clipped.

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh really?"

"Yes, really, you ass hat," I snapped.

"Vocabulary shining as ever," he commented.

"Coming from the boy who commented on 'sadist bitch'."

"You know- I do believe that's a term in the dictionary. And underneath it, there's a picture of you," he told me.

"You are such an asshole," I said.

"Likewise," he shot back.

"You're more of an asshole," I said, at a loss for what else to say.

"Gods. That was your comeback? I take back the girl genius comment." That stupid smug smile of his was plastered on my face, really making me want to punch him even more. I took a deep breath. It was just the sleep deprivation talking.

"Te egyarrogáns, szörnyű, visszataszítóseggfej," I said.

Will knitted his eyebrows together. "Excuse me, what did you say?"

"Mostkiazseni, teseggfej?" I asked him with a grin.

"Are you talking in a foreign language?" Will asked, his eyes wide.

I smiled. "Igen.Hát itt vagy, idióta," I told him with a grin. Oh, the wonders of being a multi-lingual seventh grader. Swedish rocked.

"What did you say?" Will demanded.

I smiled. "I said: You are an arrogant, repulsive, horrid asshole. Then- Now who is the genius, you asshat? And, finally: Yes, there you are, idiot."

Will stared at me.

"Still revoke the statement about my brilliance?" I asked, crossing my arms.

Will shook his head. "You are one of a kind, Jackson."

I made a face at him just as the door opened once more. A sinking feeling began in the pit of my stomach as I realized that it was Mr. Newman who opened the door, not Johnson.

"Both of you, outside. Now," Newman said. "Mr. Grace, your mother is here to pick you up."

Will widened his eyes in panic, and I imagined I looked much the same. Nevertheless, we followed Newman out to the lobby, where a young woman was waiting.

The definition of beauty is this: the quality present in a thing or person that gives intense pleasure or deep satisfaction to the mind, whether arising from sensory manifestations (as shape, color, sound, etc.), a meaningful design or pattern, or something else (as a personality in which high spiritual qualities are manifest). I had never really understood the true meaning of beautiful until I saw Will's mom.

She was beautiful. I mean, really beautiful. She had these dark brown chocolate curls that framed her high cheekbones and spiraled down mid-back. Her skin was a light coffee color- like Will's- and her lips were full. Yet- there was no noticeable makeup applied, or anything like that, despite her popping kaleidoscope eyes. She was tall, maybe a little under six feet, and wearing dark blue designer jeans, a white shirt, and a brown leather jacket that must have cost a fortune. She had suede leather boots that emphasized her calves. All in all, her outfit probably cost more than my wardrobe combined, she was drop-dead gorgeous, and surprisingly young.

And, at this very moment, she looked furious.

"William Grace," Mrs. Grace said, her face contorted in anger. "You are in so much trouble, young man."

Will took a step backwards. As I looked at Mrs. Grace, I got the impression that she was a lot more fearsome than she looked. "Look, Mom, you gotta believe me-"

"Just wait until I call your father!" Mrs. Grace continued, her voice rising an octave. "This is just the beginning of your punishments!"

Will paled. "You're going to tell Dad?"

Mrs. Grace laughed, but it came out as a bitter, harsh sound. "Oh, William, you had better be ready to tell him yourself. This is coming from you, not from me."

"What?" Will yelped.

"You heard me," Mrs. Grace said. "Gods, I cannot believe the nerve that you had. You are fourteen shitting years old! You know very damn well how to control your damn temper!"

People began to stare. Will gulped.

And, just as things couldn't get any worse, they did.

My damn father walked in the door.

All in his glory, all six feet and eleven inches of him. He looked cool as always, his jet black hair loose and uncontrolled. Green eyes shone angrily from his masculine face, and his mouth was set in a determined line. He wore a black North Face polar Tec jacket, jeans, and black Nike gym shoes. That wasn't the most surprising thing about the whole encounter, though.

He wasn't looking at me.

My father was looking at Mrs. Grace.

Mrs. Grace seemed to realize that Will was staring at someone else, and she turned. Her eyes dilated, and her lips pressed down in a hard line. "Percy," she said curtly, though her voice trembled slightly. "Fancy meeting you here."

"Piper," my father said curtly. His eyes fell on me, and his true furious state began to show. I shrank back. "Let's go, Marilyn. We will discuss this at home."

Oh, shit. No public. My heart began to beat faster. I was actually afraid to go home. For the first time in my life, I was legitimately terrified for my well-being. I had no idea what my father was going to do to me. Without being in public, I had a reason to fear him. I gulped, trying to move, though my feet seemed glued to the floor, as if held there by invisible ropes.

"Running away, Percy? Seems familiar, doesn't it?" Piper said, her voice deceptively airy and light. Her eyes showed her true intent- they were hard and bright.

"Shut up," my father growled. "Marilyn, now."

"Oh, no, Percy. It's so good to see you again, after all these years." Piper's eyes landed on me. "And that would be Marilyn? Goodness, she does look like Annabeth, doesn't she?"

There was a creak and a groan as another water pipe burst from the ground, spraying water everywhere. My father's hand was on Piper's neck before anyone could say anything, and Mrs. Grace was pinned up against a cinderblock wall.

"Don't ever say her name again," my father hissed. "You bitch."

My mind reeled. Annabeth. Annabeth. Annabeth. That was someone important, clearly. Annabeth. A flashback came through my mind, though it was brief.

"Oh, my gods, Percy, careful with Mari! She's not a toy!"

"Ah! I don't know what I'm doing, Annabeth!"

"Here- hold her like- this." There was an adjusting of my vision, and I saw a beautiful face with stern grey eyes looking down at me.

Annabeth.

"Hey, let go of my mother!" Will shouted, stepping forward. A sinking feeling began to manifest in my stomach. A knot began to form, writhing uncomfortably. My father turned his head towards Will with a cruel sneer.

"This would be your son. William, isn't it?" my father asked, crooking his head towards Piper.

Piper's eyes began to show true fear. "Don't touch him. Don't you dare lay a damn hand on my son, you son of a bitch."

My father smirked and released Piper, letting her collapse like a sack of potatoes. She gasped, her chest heaving. "You're a bit rusty on the charmspeak, aren't you, Piper?" my father asked. He turned his attention to Will. "Boy, don't ever tell me to do anything ever again. Is that clear?"

Will's nostrils flared. "No. Step away from my mother. Now."

"Will, stop," Piper said. The tension in the room at this point was palpable. All staff members were staring at us, frozen mid-work. I swallowed. This was not good. Not good at all.

"No!" Will shouted. He turned to my father. "Let go of her!"

My father raised his eyebrows. "Oh, really, William? And you think you can make me do anything?" He smiles, but his eyes are cold and piercing. "You take after your father, I assume, in that."

"Just stay away from my family!" Will yelled.

"William," Piper said.

My father moved before I could say anything. He had Will suspended in the air, holding him by the neck in three split seconds. Piper screamed, and I stepped forward. My father might bully me, but that didn't give him the right to intimidate Will- or his mom.

"Stop it!" I said.

My father released Will, who fell to the floor, gasping like his mother. My father leaned in, and, softly but not so quietly that I couldn't hear it, spoke.

"Think again before you challenge me, boy."

My father straightened, and walked over to me. He slapped me across the face, and I winced. I could feel a welt developing- nothing new, it just hurt. "Let's go, Marilyn. Now," my father said, his voice dripping with anger. He stood, eyes moving around the room. "Anyone else want to confront me? Anyone?"

There was a suffocating silence.

"Good," my father said, an undercurrent of satisfaction in his voice. "Goodbye, Piper."

He walked out of the room, pulling me with him, and I thought I heard Will's voice.

"Who was that man?" Will asked quietly.

"That," Piper said, her voice quavering, "was Percy Jackson."


REESE'S POV

Ow.

Everything hurt as I blinked open my eyes groggily. My vision blurred, and I rubbed the grit from my eyes, clearing it a bit. I realized that I was lying down in my room. The soft lavender blankets and walls lulled me to sleep once more, but I sat up. There was work to do, and nothing was being accomplished by simply sitting here.

Mom had left some time back, and I had fallen into my pillow, burying my face in the soft, cushy goose feathers. I sniffed the air and detected the scent of chicken noodle soup, and I inhaled deeply. My head was spinning, and the idea of food was incredibly enticing.

I swung my legs over the rim of my bed, letting them hover an inch above the plush carpet. Birds chirped outside, and a brisk breeze drifted through my open window. I shivered, realizing I was in a t-shirt and shorts. I stood, ignoring the tilting room. The vertigo passed, and I rose, ready to eat.

I tiptoed down my stairs, and the smell got stronger. I finally entered my kitchen, where Mom was cooking something in a pot over the stove. She smiled at me, releasing the temporary stress lining her face.

"Hey, honey," Mom said, smoothing my hair. "Feeling better?"

"Yeah," I said. I thought back to our earlier conversation. There were so many questions that I wanted to ask; though I wasn't positive I wanted answers. "Um- so." I cleared my throat.

Mom sighed. "Explanations. I suppose it wouldn't do any good to tell you that everything would be explained in time?"

I stared at her incredulously.

"I'll take that as a yes," she said, grabbing a ladle from the drawers. She spooned some soup into a bowl, and I looked outside our windows. It was a beautiful day- the sun shone high in the sky, illuminating our entire kitchen. A bit frisk, but then again, it was March.

Mom handed me the bowl as the microwave beeped. She swung open the stainless steel door, admitting a cup of tea. The air was suddenly heavy with the calming scent of chamomile, and she handed the mug and a spoon to me.

I took a sip of the hot meal, relishing the taste on my tongue. Mom sat beside me, and pursed her lips as if thinking pensively. I waited a moment, and then spoke. "So- this whole 'equilibrium' thing- care to explain?" I began.

Mom pinched the bridge of her nose. "I suppose you're right. There are just so many things that I've never told you- or your father, really. As far as I know, Jamie's been spared from the gift. I've always suspected you, but now I'm sure."

"Mom?" I said slowly. She wasn't making a lick of sense.

"What do you know about the old Greek myths?" Mom asked suddenly. "The old heroes? Gods? Monsters?"

I furrowed my eyebrows. "Um- some of it. Like, I know who Zeus is, and Hercules, and stuff, but not much else. Marilyn knows- she's more into that kind of stuff."

Mom bit her bottom lip. "Alright. I need to start from the beginning, then." She rubbed a hand over her face. "Name as many gods as you can for me."

I blinked. "Um- okay." I thought back to Mr. Little's class. Never know when your maternal parent can go psycho and give you a pop quiz during lunch. "Uh- Zeus, Hades, Aphrodite, Poseidon, Apollo, Ares- and that's it. That's all I can remember," I said, feeling a bit foolish. Marilyn would have been able to name all of the major deities and then some.

Mom smiled. "That's okay. The rest are Hermes, Hephaestus, Hera, Demeter, Dionysus and Artemis- as far as the twelve major Olympians go, at least. I didn't know all of them either, when I was your age." She massaged her temples. "What do you know about Apollo in particular?"

I shrugged. "Well- I guess he's the god of the sun, right? And music."

"Good. He's a god of many things- what else do you know?" Mom asked. She stood and got herself a cup of water from the sink, plinking in a few ice cubes from our freezer.

"Uh- poetry, maybe? Is he the guy with the stick thingy and the snakes?"

Mom laughed and shook her head. "No, that's Hermes. Close, though. They have their similarities. Poetry is correct, though. Anything else you can remember?"

I shook my head. "No, sorry."

Mom nodded to herself. "Okay, then. Well, to sum it up: Apollo is the god of the arts. He's almost like one of the nine muses, though he also controls the sun. He has a twin sister, Artemis, who is goddess of the hunt and the moon, as well as virginity, I think. The twins are descended from Leto and Zeus, the head god of Olympus. That's his heritage, as far as I know. Most important to us, Apollo is god of one more thing: prophecy."

"Prophecy? What on Earth does this have to do with-"I started, until realizing something. "The words. They were a prophecy, weren't they?"

"Yes."

"Hold up- are you saying that Apollo is real?" I asked disbelievingly.

"Oh, no, Reese. I'm saying that all of the gods are very real. All of the minor gods and goddesses, in fact. That is including monsters, and the evil spirits, as well." Mom's tone had taken an ominous undercurrent, and I shivered.

"You're crazy," I said. "That's not possible."

"Yes, it is. How else would you like me to explain your prophecy? Reese, you have the gift of an oracle. Trust me, I should know," Mom said.

"It's- some freak thing. Or something. It's not a prophecy, Mom, that's insane!" I said, my voice rising in hysterics.

"Really? 'The equilibrium will be broken. The ocean walks with us once more. The shadow of a lover becomes a warrior. Lightning and love converge. The equilibrium falls.' Reese Winters, if this wasn't the truth, how would I know that?" Mom asked, her voice shaking.

I stared at her. "How do you know those words?" I whispered.

"I know them because I spoke them first. Reese, you have the gift of an oracle because I am one," Mom said, her face beginning to once more show lines of anxiety. "I left the life because I fell in love with your father. My virginity was originally sworn to Apollo, but I gave it to your father. I had you."

"Mom, what are you saying here?"

"I'm saying that you are the next oracle, Reese Veronica Winters. My maiden name was Rachel Elizabeth Dare."


WILL'S POV

My mother glared at me.

She was starting to make me uncomfortable. I slunk down further in the padded seats in our Porsche, feeling the leather under my fingertips. Piper wasn't glaring at me, exactly, more at the road. She looked angry in general, I supposed, and if there was one thing I had learned in my thirteen years old, it was to beware of thine mother.

"Damn it," she growled, slapping her sun visor down.

Oh, no. I was dead if Piper was going to be in that mood. I cleared my throat, deciding to take a chance. "Uh- are you okay, Mom?"

"No. Nope, I'm not." She slammed a fist down on her wheel, and it blared loudly. "Move it, asshole!" she yelled to the car in front of us.

My mother almost never swore, and she was seriously starting to scare me. I swallowed. "Um- what happened?"

"It's stupid Percy Jackson! I cannot believe he had the nerve to do that to me! Oh, shit!" Piper shouted as she swerved the car.

"Careful, Mom," I warned. "And I thought you were okay, what with the whole 'Oh, no police, I'm cool.'"

"That was because I was protecting his damn daughter!" Piper spat. "Gods, Annabeth would kill us if she saw us right now."

"Who's Annabeth?" I asked.

"Aw, shit! Come on, you dumbasses, learn how to drive, for gods' sakes!" Piper shouted, honking her horn again. I inched away. I had never seen my mother this furious in my entire life. "Annabeth was a woman who died a long time ago."

It dawned on me, then. The puzzle pieces began to construct in my mind. "Hold up- Annabeth was Marilyn's mom, wasn't she?"

"You don't miss much, do you?" Piper muttered. "I wish you would pay this much attention in school."

"So is that a yes?"

Piper sighed. "Yes. Annabeth was Marilyn's mother, and Percy's wife, a long time ago."

"What happened to her?" I queried, thinking of all the ugly ways that Annabeth could've died.

"She died," Piper said shortly.

As I realized Piper wasn't about to say anything else, I let out a whine. "Aw, c'mon! I want to know how! Please?"

"Look, Will, I love you, and all, but it's not really my place to be telling you all this. You shouldn't know as much as you do right now. You're also in very big trouble," Piper said, fixating her glower once more on me.

"You can't hold that over me now! How do you even know Percy and Annabeth, anyway?" I asked.

"What part of 'I'm going to wait until your father gets home', 'it's not really my place to be telling you this' and 'you are in serious trouble and should be praying for your life' do you not understand?" Piper snapped.

"All of it," I supplied.

"Attitude, William Grace. You are mentally adding on weeks with all of this smart-mouthing." Piper got a glint in her eye. "Actually, I think talking to your father right around now would be a great idea."

"What?" I yelped. "Now, let's not be hasty…"

It was one thing having Piper mad at me. I mean, sure, she was scary, but really only around a specific time of the month, if you know what I'm saying there. She was terrifying and everything, but it's really hard to take the same woman who packed my lunch in first grade with little notes on the napkins (thank gods I stopped that fiasco).

Jason, however, is an entirely different matter. He is terrifying. Not really in the way Percy Jackson was- he wasn't hardened in the same way; he had a different look in his eyes. Seriously, though, my father could kick some serious ass, and that included his children's. When Caroline stayed out after curfew a couple of months ago and got into some trouble (I never found out exactly what, though I have my suspicions), Carrie got her ass handed to her. She was grounded for a month with extra chores and no allowance for a pretty long time, and wasn't allowed to go out still, I think; I've lost track. I'd hate to find out what he'd do to me. I gulped.

"Oh, this decision has been thought over thoroughly, I assure you," Piper said with a small smile. She yanked out her iPhone and tapped a few buttons. Before I could protest further, she handed me the phone. My mother is evil. Pure, unadulterated evil.

The phone rang, and I began to formulate a plan in my mind. Slowly but surely, I saw a possible delay to this dilemma. Oh, Mummy dearest, looks as if the evilness is genetic. There was a crackle, and then my father's voice saying "Hello?"

"Hey, Dad," I greeted, grinning. Piper looked puzzled, and I just smiled. Oh, Mother, dear. You have no idea the extent of my evilness.

"William? Shouldn't you be in school?" Jason asked.

"Yeah, but there was a minor issue. Nothing big, just a minor little thing. Not even worth mentioning, actually- a tiny, miniscule little detail, just an itsy-bitsy-"

"William, shut up and tell me what's wrong," Jason said, his voice tinged with annoyance.

"Oh, that. Yeah, Mom and I just had a little run-in with Percy Jackson," I said, a smile playing at the corner of my lips. Piper turned to me, her eyes wide. I was dead- but then again, I was dead anyway, so that was fine.

There was a lengthy pause, and then Jason's voice. "Say that again?" my father said.

"Oh, yeah. Percy Jackson. He threatened my life and pinned both Mom and I up in a chokehold, but Mom thinks that it's no biggie, so I'm taking that for what it is. Oh, and we saw his daughter. Fun, right?" I relayed, grinning.

"William Grace!" Piper said, her eyes wide. "Stop it right this instant!"

"What's that, Dad?" I asked. "You want to talk to Pi- Mom? Oh, cool. Here she is," I said, ignoring my parents' protests about me. You can say it. I'm a horrible, devious child. A horrible devious child who wanted to live to see tomorrow, though, may I remind you.

I felt something sink in my heart. If I was worried, I wondered what Marilyn was going through. Her dad was something else, that was for sure, and I felt bad about my previous outburst. It really sucks to be afraid of your only living parent, and I pretty much told her that she was being a wimp. I looked over and saw a faint bruise on my mother's neck.

Perhaps Mari was a bit more justified than I had given her credit for after all.

"No, Jason, I'm perfectly fine," Piper said over the chorus of yelling emanating from the phone. Piper shot daggers at me. "Percy didn't really do anything-"

Another shouting spell came from the phone, and Piper held it at arm's length. "Oh, William Grace, you are so dead when your father finds out."

"Yes. But right now, it seems that Percy Jackson is in bigger trouble than me, for the time being," I said.

"Your father is not going to attack Percy," Piper said with a wince. "The fight could go either way. He wouldn't risk dying for your sake."

"What's the big deal with this dick?" I asked. "Dad's the most powerful demigod I know. Why is Percy so special?"

"He's the son of Poseidon," Piper said.

"So? Aunt Thalia isn't as powerful as Dad. Neither is Nico, or Aunt Hazel. They're all children of the big three," I said, crossing my arms.

Jason continued shouting, and Piper leaned in towards me. "Listen to me very carefully when I say this. Do not ever underestimate Perseus Jackson. If you do so, like so many others, that will be the end of you. Do you understand?"

I nodded wordlessly.

"Good. We are clear?" Piper asked.

"Crystal," I told her, my voice cracking.

Piper paused, and then put the phone back up by her ear. She resumed talking while I looked out the windows of our car. Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase. Two names that I never heard of before. It was obvious that I wasn't going to get any more answers from my mother. I wrung my hands, thinking of different people I could ask that would tell me.

A light bulb appeared over my head.

Caroline.

Of course.


CAROLINE'S POV

I laid on my bed.

Gazing up at the ceiling, I quirked a little smile as I remembered hearing about Will's spectacle after I got home. Mom had been beyond furious- I couldn't remember ever seeing her that angry. It came as no surprise to me that she was still beautiful, even in her outraged state.

I bit my lip. Now that I was fifteen, things seemed more transparent than they used to. I saw right through some of the façades that my parents put up for our sakes. There are things that I noticed now- the good and the bad. The good included things like how much my parents truly loved each other, and the bad included things like how stressed my parents always were. The work was starting to get to them, and I wasn't sure that as kids, we were doing the best job of making it easy. Especially Reid- it was hard when kids were young.

More than anything, I wished Dad was home. I was the first child, and the definition of Daddy's little girl. I was more of a tomboy than my brother, actually, who is kind of a sissy. As a result, I saw the first baseball games (I had a ball that I had caught on my dresser), tried out for every sport under the moon, and shopped at Dick's as opposed to Abercrombie. I was closer with him than I had ever been with Mom.

My dad never really had time, though. He worked hard, and somewhere in my heart, I knew that- but it didn't stop me from banging my head against the wall every time we moved just so he could work more. It was so hard on everyone in our family, especially Mom, who, at this point, with the circles under her eyes, looked like she could use three more nannies. I was infinitely grateful that my mom did all that she did- shoot, she didn't have to come to half the games or events that she did.

At the same time, I wished that she took a break every once in a while.

A knock sounded on my door, and I sat up. "Hello?" I called.

Well, what do you know? It's the exiled one, also known as my brother. "Hey," Will said, his eyes skittish. My brother, skittish? Oh, please. He probably came to weasel some candy out of me.

"Aren't you supposed to be in your room?" I asked, swinging my legs over the bed. "What with the whole 'I was a doofus and beat somebody up'?"

Will made a face. "Look- I just had some questions I wanted to ask you. Then I'll leave, I swear."

I arched an eyebrow. "Will, if this is another half-schemed plot to steal my chocolate bars-"

"It's not," Will said quickly. "Just- I really did have some questions. I want answers, and Mom's not giving them to me."

I regarded him cryptically. If Mom wasn't about to reply to his queries, then I saw no reason to, but at the same time, this looked legitimate. If it had anything to do with the things going through his head lately; what with the punching walls, sadist bitches, and fights at school- I was inclined to listen.

I gestured to the chair. "Sit," I said with a sigh.

"Thanks," Will said, clearly relieved.

I waited for him to ask, and finally rolled my eyes in exasperation. "Well, dimwit? You have any interrogations or not?"

"Oh- yeah." Will cleared his throat. "So- I kind of wanted to ask about a couple of people."

"Names," I reminded him. Gods, my brother was thick.

"Uh- yeah. So. Have you ever heard anything about Percy Jackson or Annabeth Chase?" he asked, his eyes alight with curiosity.

Shit. That was why Mom wasn't answering his questions. I swallowed. "Hell, no," I said, finally just voicing my inner thoughts. "Hell, no."

"What?" Will exploded, standing up. "What is so important about this dick? He attacked Mom and me today!"

"Wait- Percy Jackson is here?" I said, my eyes wide. "That's not possible." Holy Hera. If that really was the case, then we were all in some deep shit.

"I kind of just saw him in the flesh, today, so yeah. It is possible. Remember Marilyn from the coffee shop? That's his daughter," Will said, still obviously angry.

"Holy shit," I said in wonder. "It's the prophecy."

"Will someone please tell me what all this jibber-jabber is about and just get to the fricking point, please?" Will shouted.

I sighed. "I'm sorry, but I can't, Will. Just about anything except for this- I would, really. It's just not my place to tell you this."

"Goddammit, that's what Mom said too! What's the big secret?" Will yelled.

Gods. I took a deep breath, checking the door. "Look- I will tell you this one thing."

"Finally!" Will said, sitting back down with a thump. He waited for me, tapping his fingers on his knee. "Well?"

Oh, shit. I was in so much trouble if my parents ever found out what I was about to say. Here goes nothing, I supposed. "Fine. You know the Argo II, right? From the stories about Mom and Dad's demigod years?"

Will snorted. "Of course. They're famous for it. So is Uncle Leo, Aunt Hazel, and Uncle Frank."

"Well-" I swallowed nervously. "Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase were also members of the Argo II. The people at camp lie now when they said that five demigods were selected. There were seven."

Ho-ly shit. I was dead. Yup. Dead, I tell you.

"What?" Will whispered.

"Yes. Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase were on the Argo II." I closed my eyes. "And they were forgotten for a reason."

"What is that reason?" Will prodded.

"Nuh-uh. No way, Will. Get outta my room- I'm in enough trouble as it is," I said, pushing him out my door. "You heard me. Move it, kid."

"What?" Will whined pathetically.

"Out," I said, slamming the door in his face.

I leaned against the wall, sliding down it.

If what Will said was true, we were in so much trouble.