"Which book tonight?" Uncle Bucky sits on my bed and leans on the wooden headboard, his legs stretched out across my Star Wars bedspread. He kind of fills up the space, so if I want to sit there too, I have to sit really close and snuggle up. I don't mind it, though.

I go over to our shelf and pull out The Lightning Thief, the first Percy Jackson book. It's not for school; I just want to hear it.

Uncle Bucky doesn't just take the book; he takes both me and the book in his arm and plops me down right next to him, all nice and close so I can see the words and practice my reading while he reads to me.

"I don't know this one," he says, looking at the paper cover. "It must be new."

"Newer than you, anyway," I answer, which earns me his fingers in my ribs, tickling me until I shriek with laughter.

My mom says people wouldn't believe that he's like this, but I don't really know him any other way. He's different from our Uncle Sam. Uncle Sam is fun, and sometimes he takes us to really cool places. But Uncle Bucky is more like somebody you can tell things to, and when he visits, he's always got time to listen. Kind of like a granddad in a movie, I guess. I wasn't born yet when my grandparents died, so I didn't know them. Mom says it's because he's really old, older than her and Uncle Sam and even their parents, and that makes him wise.

We get to Camp Half-Blood before Uncle Bucky shuts the book. "Time for bed," he says, and I know better than to argue. He's patient, but when he says something, it always goes.

"I wish I was a demigod," I say, "with powers and stuff."

Uncle Bucky hugs me goodnight. "Trust me; it's not that great. It's better to just be yourself." I'm not sure I agree, but I hug him back and figure I'll ask about it another time.

"Night, AJ."

"Night, Dad." I usually only say it when Cass isn't around, because he doesn't like it that much. Uncle Bucky looked surprised the first couple of times, but I can tell he doesn't mind. Maybe I'll call him that all the time, some day. He sure acts like a dad.

Cass and my mom come in, and she kisses me. "Night, Baby." Cass makes a face, but he likes it just as much as I do when she's all soft and relaxed. It seems like she's that way more often when Uncle Bucky visits.

The next morning, Mom takes us to school, and I keep thinking about demigods and powers. I'm kind of like that with things. If I get something in my head, it stays there until I talk it out.

When it's nighttime again, Uncle Bucky takes his place on my bed and asks for the book. He's real big on routines. I feel pretty shy, but I ask anyway, "I—just want to talk. Is—that okay?"

"Uh huh," he says, scooting over a little so I can join him and securing me in the crook of his arm. "What's going on?"

"I just wondered," I say, "because you said it wasn't that great to get powers. You have powers, and you've done so much awesome stuff. I don't get it."

"Oh, AJ." He sighs, like adults do sometimes. "You know a lot of good stuff I did, but there's bad stuff, too. My powers are why the bad guys wanted me so much, so they could make me do stuff for them."

"It's better to be like your Uncle Sam. He's really brave, and he's a good soldier, but he's just a man. When you're just a regular guy, but you decide to do the right thing, that's the bravest and most heroic."

"Wow," I answer. "I want to be a hero like that."

Uncle Bucky smiles. "You will be. You have your mom, and your brother, and your uncle to help you grow up that way. You're already like halfway—well, maybe a quarter of the way. You're not that tall yet." I can't help laughing.

"You gotta teach me how," I say after a little while, looking up at him. His answer suddenly feels really important.

He doesn't respond right away. "I'd—really like that," he says after a while. "It's just hard to believe you want that—from me, AJ."

Other adults won't tell you anything is ever wrong, and they act like they're perfect. Uncle Bucky isn't like that. He's for real.

"I love you," I say. "That's why." My mom tells us she loves us all the time. It doesn't feel that unusual to me, but Uncle Bucky hugs me really, really tightly.

"I—love you, too."