Tristen looked mildly surprised, she pushed her hair back over her bad eye and stared straight into mine. "You think you love me?" she asked.

"No," I replied, looking not at her, but in her. "I know I love you."

"I—I lov-"

I cut her off. "Don't say you love me just because I said it to you. I want you to love me, but I don't want you feel like you have to. You can say it whenever you want to, it doesn't have to be tomorrow, or next week, or this year even..." I took her hand and looked straight into her eye. "I just want you to be happy."

Her grip tightened on my hand. "I am happy," she replied, but said nothing more.

"We should get going," I said after a few moments of awkward silence. "Dawn's breaking and we have to get to San Fransisco soon."

--1--

The ride was silent from the moment we got back in the car. Tristen drove at the exact speed limit and watched the road attentively. The interstate was barren and desert like as I looked out the window. There hadn't been a tree or any other sign of life since the plants in the lobby of our hotel in Vegas.

Up ahead, a large green sign lingered over the road, supported by long silver poles that held themselves firmly in the ground. The sign read:

Exit 222—San Fransisco, next right.

"Jake," Tristen began, leaning towards the dash and suiting a the sign. "What does that sign say? I can't read right now... my dyslexia is really bad."

My cheeks flashed a vibrant red. "I can't either," I admitted.

"Huh?" Tristen asked. "I thought you didn't have dyslexia."

"I don't," I said bashfully. We passed under the sign.

"Then how come you couldn't read the sign?" she asked, irritated.

"I can't read." I said suddenly, a little angrily. Tristen leaned up against the seat.

"Then I guess we take this exit and hope it leads to San Fransisco." Tristen said, turning the wheel as we came onto the exit.

It took at least five more minutes of driving in awkward silence to reach the city I knew automatically was San Fransisco. It looked just like the pictures you always see. Long, seemingly endless streets with an old-time fashion incorporated together and breathed as one. Trolleys glided softly down the smooth pavement of the clean streets.

"Just like in pictures," I breathed my thoughts aloud.

"It's beautiful," Tristen agreed. "So now I guess we go find a hotel or something to stay at?"

"Uggg! I'm so tired of hotels... but I guess we don't have an option." Just as I said that, I noticed the trolleybus pulled up at a stop. "Hey, you ever been on a trolley?"

"Nope," she said, shaking her head.

"Me neither," I told her. "Pull over."

She obediently turned the wheel, and the car obeyed, swerving gently to an empty lot. When we parked, I unfastened my seatbelt and reached over Tristen, yanking the keys from the ignition. I swung the door open and stepped out of the car.

The smells of San Fransisco immediately overwhelmed me, the smell of the distant ocean, the light smell hot dogs and popcorn wavered in my nostrils, making my empty stomach growl.

The bell to the trolley rang, signaling that it was almost ready to leave. I grabbed Tristen's wrist and we ran to catch it.

The woman driving the trolleybus was a fat, old lady, who scowled and mumbled something under her breath as we got on the trolley. We pushed past the crowds of people that blocked our path to the back of the trolleybus.

"Was it just me, or did that driver-lady not like us too much?" I asked Tristen.

"It wasn't just you—maybe she was having heartburn?" Tristen offered sarcastically. I laughed as we gripped the railing of the trolley. The train began to move—the sudden change in motion causing the passengers a temporary lose their balance, but it was quickly regained.

We looked out into the sights of the marvelous city as the trolley slowly picked up a steady speed. We watched as we passed the city of San Fransisco. Outdoor cafés and people walking their dogs on the side of the road. Children smiled and laughed and played, while adults sipped their coffee and talked amongst themselves. This city to me, felt as alive... felt vibrant with many unknown qualities. To me, it felt as if everyone there were family, they all knew each other and smiled at each person they passed by.

Of course, this was far from reality.

Wind whistled lightly through my hair and brushed refreshingly against my cheeks, also sending a cool breeze through the fabric of my shirt, and whipping the once-deadly wound on my chest, which was now reduced to a mere scab. People waved at the trolley as it passed by, and each time I'd wave back.

After a while of this routine in complete silence, Tristen spoke up. "Um.. Jake?"

"Yeah?" I asked, but I knew good and well what she was about to say.

"About what you said in the car... that's not true, is it? You have to be able to read... I mean it's just like... required."

"Not if you live at Camp Half-Blood. There, the only thing that is required it to stay alive." I told her.

"But... how?" Tristen asked.

"How what?" I demanded, but not meanly. She pushed her hair out of her face. It was swinging wildly with the wind, going in all different directions.

"How did you go all this time without reading?" She asked. "You came to camp after I did, shouldn't you have learned sometime before then?"

"Yeah," I said regretfully. "I should have. You see, Tristen, there are two different types of people; smart and dumb. I'm a dumb person... I just can't learn. Never could. That's why I failed first-grade." I looked straight ahead as I told her that last part. Not wanting to meet her eye. I knew what she was thinking—the same thing everyone thinks how do you fail first-grade? Idiot. I knew that was what everyone thought when he told them that little fact... all three of the people he told; Jonah, Jeremy and Tyche. But with my mom, it was different. I knew that what she thought, but she still looked at me the same... my friends... well, it was a different story.

"You learned the basics of karate in only a few hours," she pointed out.

"That's different," I said, finally looking at her. She had just given up on trying to get her hair under control, and a stray strand hit me on the mouth. "It's not the kind of crap you learn in school. Like math reading and writing... that is actually fun and you'll actually use it in life."

"You use that stuff in life," Tristen protested.

"Not all of it." I countered. "What if you want to be a librarian? That has nothing to do with algebra, yet they still make you take it."

"I think they still make you take it so you have options when you're an adult...options that may be better for you and your family."

"It doesn't matter," I said, still looking out at the city. "As a demi-god, I'm doomed to have a crappy life. We all are."

"Seems to me that you have a pretty great life," Tristen countered.

"Yeah," I said, looking at her. "Seems like it. But there's a lot more to me that meets the eye."

The trolleybus slowed to a stop, and the passengers got off, all of them but me and Tristen. The old, gray-haired lady started at us, fine brown hairs on her upper lip. Gross!

"You brats getting off?" She demanded. A family of five loaded the trolley.

"Next stop," I told her.

"Kids," she whined as she reluctantly turned around to drive the trolley again. "They're all the same these days, worthless, spoiled brats,"

"Sounds like someone's a little irritable," I said snidely. "Sad the only hair you can grow anymore is on your lip?"

"You should talk!" She cried. "Your girlfriends hair is blue!"

"Most likely so is your belly-button lint." I snapped. Tristen's hand went in front of my face.

"What's your problem with us anyway?" She persisted.

"Must've missed happy-hour last night," I mumbled. Tristen elbowed me in the ribs.

The driver glared at me for a few seconds. "Off my trolley." she ordered.

"No!" Tristen protested as the driver stood up. I swear the whole bus shook as she walked towards us, grabbing our arms with her sweaty, fat fingers. The air filling up with the smell of her body odors. "Let me go!" Tristen snatched her arm away, accidentally hitting the driver in the lower fold of her stomach. The family of five—two parents and three kids, two boys and a girl, were staring at us with wide eyes. The fat lady grabbed Tristen's arm again. I smacked it away, the noise echoing through the city which had seemed to go silent.

I reached for the pencil that would turn into a spear in my pocket. "Touch her again, I dare you." I growled, an evil tone in my voice. I was aware that she still clutched the sleeve of my shirt. I could hear her breathing, a wheezing noise that fat people made when they were hot.

She opened her mouth,as if to say something, but her head snapped to her right as her cell phone rang. She glared down at me, then regretfully released my shirt sleeve and made her way back to her position, reaching for her phone and picking it up.

The mother of the other family aboard looked at us. "Are you children alright?" she asked.

I nodded, and Tristen added. "We're fine, thanks." she pushed a strand of her short brown hair behind her ear, as her bald husband reached for his own phone.

"I'm going to see if I can find the number of her employer, that...woman had no right to put her hands on you." he said, dialing a number and placing the phone up to his ear, he walked away, plugging his free ear.

"You really don't have to do that..." Tristen began to tell the woman, who pulled her daughter to a hug around her knee.

"Well, it's not the first time we've butted heads with Ms. Sherry Palmero," she said, looking at the woman carefully who was talking into her phone. "Last month, my niece was here visiting from Colorado, she was with my oldest daughter Samantha, my husband and I and the rest of my kids were back at home. But when they returned, they said that Sherry had smacked the ice-cream cone from my niece's hand for no good reason-"

She sounded as if she wanted to say more, but her voice was drowned out when Sherry called for me.

"Hey, brat," she said, holding out the phone. "It's for you," she said, a confused tone to her voice.

"Me?" I asked.

"Yeah," she said with deep attitude. I took the phone from her hand.

"Hello?" I asked cautiously, holding the phone to my ear.

"Hi, Jake," a dark voice said from the other side of the line.

"Who is this?" I asked.

"Did you really think that you could get the best of me?" Chills ran up my spine.

"Huh?" I asked, though I knew who it was.

"That thing at the airport, it was just the starting point, but I got really mad when you killed my children. I don't take to madness very well, Jake. You and your girlfriend really crossed the line."

"Hecate?" I asked, though I was sure it was her.

"I was given a take by my lord, Jake. I intend to fulfill his request. Say your goodbye's, Jake. You and blue-hair won't see another day."

"Where are you?" I demanded, frantically looking around, but seeing nothing but a couple shops and an outdoor café. Tristen walked towards me, concerned, looking around to see anything out of the ordinary.

"I'm around," she said with a snicker. "You'd probably see me if you looked around long enough." I scanned around again. Nothing. There were people walking on the streets, some sitting in the outdoor café, a few walking in and out of different stores and shops. I looked behind me. We were at a four-way intersection, parked off the side of the road, the afternoon sun barely shown over the traffic light, and sparkled off the bay. People with fishing gear stood at the light wooden fence that kept them from going directly into the bay. Directly across the water, the Golden Gate bridge stretched proudly across the waters. I pulled the phone tighter to my cheek.

"What do you want from us?" I asked, panic painting my voice.

"Revenge." She stated simply. "Of course, your little girlfriend would know all about that."

It was true. Tristen had gone to some pretty drastic measures to get back at me, Silena and the twins. She had been particularly mad when we put chocolate laxatives in her ice cream. You could say she was experienced in the art of revenge.

"What do you mean?" I asked breathlessly.

"You outwitted me, and killed my only set of triplets. But lets see how you stand up to one of my beasts." I had no chance to ask questions. As soon as those words left her lips, the line went dead.

"What's going on?" Tristen asked all of a sudden.

"I'll explain later... just be on your guard." I told her, pressing the eraser of my pencil, and it grew on both sides, extending to at least his height and one end sharpening itself to a point. A knife materialized in Tristen's hand, her bracelet jingled lightly. Just then, an ear shattering screech disrupted the city. My ears rang for moments after the screech took place. I felt the trolleybus shake, and heard the scratching of metal against another hard surface. I heard a scream and the shattering of glass.

Then, I saw the boar.

It raged through the street, literally running atop the cars that sat at the red light of the intersection. Tristen grabbed my hand.

"What is that?" She asked. The boar's eyes glowed a bright red, like burning charcoal. It was at least the size of a small car. Its tusks were half the length of my arm, and had the texture of a skeleton, but the tip of a dagger.

"I think..." My voice trailed off as I watched him trampling cars—eyes set on the trolley. Hard, ash-black skin covered it's while body. "I think that's the Eyrmanthian Boar."

The boar stumbled over itself, falling into the street on its back, but quickly regaining its balance. It looked into the trolleybus, spotting us. It let out another cry that pierced the air violently, causing me temporary deafness, and forcing Sherry the trolley driver to her knees.

It swiped it's front paw against the street, just as a bull would do, scratching the paint of the road. It snorted, and charged the side of the bus.

"Tristen, move!" I cried, grabbing her arm and together, we jumped from the trolleybus. We hit the ground with a thud, pain shooting up my shoulder. I heard a large crunching of metal as the boar rammed the side of the trolley. A scream came from the bus as the family of five fell to the ground. Tristen and I scrambled to our feet. I could see the boar look at us through the corner of his eye, his tusks caught in the base of the vehicle. He yanked and tugged, trying to shake himself loose. I readied my spear, just as the boar gave one more desperate tug, that freed him.

Immediately, he charged at me. I was able to see what he was doing in enough time to just escape being rammed by him. I returned the blow with a lash of my spear, but my weapon bounced harmlessly off his skin, leaving only a small cut followed by a thin line of green blood. I turned at the last second and ran towards the nearest building—a small shopping center. The boar squalled and charged again, as I stood outside the window of the store. I could see the hate in his eyes, he gained speed as his glare locked on me. I only had a few seconds left if I didn't...

"Move!" Cried Tristen. I jumped away from the window when he was so close, I could see the saliva at the ends of his teeth. He jumped, flying through the air, legs kicking wildly, he crashed through the window, showering me with shards of glass. Blood soaked the sleeve of my T-shirt.

The car-sized boar shook his head, sending more glass flying through the air. When my vision cleared, I could see the shocked workers and customers of the shopping center staring at the boar, eyes wide. He was a good ten feet away from me, but I could feel the heat of his breath. I looked up, the trolley towered above me. The boar was coming from its dazed stage.

A boar that size won't be able to get up there, I thought. Without warning, the boar charged Tristen, who was at least twenty feet away. He passed me, sending a wave of air that cooled me, but I could hardly see him. But I saw him jump into the air. Tristen repeated this technique, first getting a running start, and then jumping into a perfectly-formed flying sidekick. To my terror, as if in slow motion, Tristen and the Eyrmanthian Boar were racing towards each other in mid air. They collided, Tristen's foot hitting the snout of the boar, the tiniest trickle of green blood flowing from his nostril.

They were forced away from each other in the air, each doing their own series of back flips in the air. Tristen was able to land on her feet—thank Zeus for years of karate training. The boar landed on his back, squealing in pain. He scrambled back to his feet. He landed only about seven feet from Tristen. As the boar was distracted, I jumped, gripping the side of rail on the trolley. I pulled myself up, and slid over the top of the side, falling to the floor with a thud. The family jumped, startled. I immediately climbed back to my feet.

"Don't worry, it's going to be fine," I promised, though I wasn't sure myself. I leaned over the railing. Tristen had her knife jabbed into the boars hip.

"Tristen!" I cried. "The boar can't reach us up here!" She released her knife and took off towards me. I reached my hand down, she gripped it, placed her feet against the tattered side of the vehicle, and tried to walk up. All of a sudden, the boar jumped, Tristen's knife scraped against bus. He let out a small sound as he pushed Tristen with his snout. She held my hand tighter, but the boar dragged her down to the ground... me along with her.

We plummeted to the ground, we hit the floor with force, Tristen hitting the hardest. As she hit, the unmistakable sound of bones' shattering seemed to be the loudest noise I ever heard. The car-sized boar lie next to her, wiggling its fat feet around in attempt to regain its footing. Tristen held it down with all her might. It took the fresh metallic taste of blood for me to realize that I had cut my own face with my spear as we tumbled down from the trolley. I jumped to my feet, and grabbed Tristen's knife from the struggling boar, I tossed the celestial bronze weapon through the air, but as Tristen held the boar with all her force using one hand, she gripped her shoulder with the other, her face exclaiming her pain. The knife clattered to the pavement.

It was the first time I noticed, but people who had lived to retreat from their car, stood on the side of the road, snapping pictures of the two children fighting the boar. I began to wonder what they were seeing through the mist. The boar slipped from Tristen's grasp and he stood on all fours. He glared at Tristen, I swung my spear at him, but he dodged, and with a swing of his mighty tail under my feet, I fell to the ground.

This was it, the boar focused on Tristen. I knew I couldn't do anything, and she was basically helpless. It hovered over her, ready to make the kill...

"I'm comin', brat!" Sherry the trolley driver cried, standing on the railing of the bus. She jumped, landing on the huge pig. I squalled as she wrapped her arms around it, and tackled it back down to the ground. I watched as the boars, eyes' widened when the fat driver pulled his legs upwards. He screeched again, and somehow, in the process of this... there was something that happened that I missed... somehow, Sherry had mounted the ancient boar, and was riding him like an angry bull.

"Yeeeeeee haaaaaawwwww!" She screamed, a smile on her face. Tristen stopped writhing in pain for a moment to gawk at this peculiar sight, but went straight back to being in pain. The boar snorted, jumping and jostling, trying to shake the extra weight from him. For at least ten seconds, the boar shook, and finally, Sherry lost her grip, and flew off his back, literally soaring through the air, across the street and smashed into the wall, leaving a tiny crack in the brick of the café. Then, I saw Hecate.

She sat at one of the outside tables of the café, a newspaper had been pulled in front of her face, but as the fat lady plunged into the wall, Hecate lowered her newspaper, exposing her face to me. I noticed the boar was off-guard, in attempt to end all of this, I shoved my spear at him with all my might. With the cracking of his leathery skin, the spear went through his hide, I pushed as hard as I could until my spear couldn't go any farther. He let out one more, weak, somewhat sad cry of pain as I yanked my spear out of his skin. As soon as my weapon had no contact left with the boar, he dissolved into a golden dust.

"No!" Hecate cried, slamming her newspaper to the ground. She had drawn too much attention to herself to confront us. She glared at me, and slowly faded from existence.

I wondered how the mist would cover her disappearing like that. But there wasn't enough time to focus on things like that. I grabbed Tristen's hand, trying to help her up. "Come one," I rushed her. "We don't have much time, the police are probably on their way. We have to get out of here!"