Chapter 1: Detention Blues

AN: HELLO EVERYONE! It is I, brighterthansunshine, formerly known as KeepCalmandSprint13. So I recently fell back into the Percy Jackson fandom, and I found my old fanfiction account. I went back and read some of my stories, and I realized that I wasn't quite done with My (Not-So-Normal) Life of a Teenage Demigod's plotline. I've changed a few things, and if you read My Not-So-Normal Life, you'll notice some details have been changed. I really didn't get deep enough into the plot before, so if you have not read My Not-So-Normal Life, you certainly weren't missing much. So without further ado, here is The Prodigal Child!

Please comment, favorite, follow, and PM me if you like what you read!

Disclaimer: I don't own Percy Jackson!

With a grunt of frustration, I chucked the basketball at the net, not expecting it to go in.

It didn't, and the chuckle from behind me made me jump.

"I take it detention went well, then?"

I shot a dirty look over my shoulder at my best friend, then took a few steps into the grass to retrieve the basketball. "Oh, it was great. Me and Mrs. Smith sat and painted our nails and gossiped about the cutest guy on the baseball team."

Cameron Tate grinned at me slyly from the edge of the outdoor basketball court, where he leaned on his crutches. If it weren't for those crutches, I'd have thrown the ball at him for looking at me like that.

"Oh yeah?" Cam poked me with one of his crutches and laughed when I swatted him away with my free hand. "Which on do you think is the cutest?"

Pushing my hair out of my face haughtily, I said immediately, "The shortstop, no question."

I turned my back on Cam, not quickly enough to miss the frown that etched itself on is face. I shook my head to get the thought out of my mind, then launched my basketball through the air from the free throw line.

"Nice shot," Cam said as the ball swooshed through the net. "How was track practice?"

I shrugged as I went to retrieve the ball to practice another free throw. "I'm sure it was fine. I just wasn't there. Smith kept me an extra ten minutes because I was thirty seconds late. So I missed most of practice. Thank god Coach let me so the workout on my own, he just seems really disappointed in me."

"I'm sure he loves that his all-star gets stuck in detention at least twice a month."

I missed the next shot, probably because I was distracted. "Thanks a lot, Cameron. That really makes me feel better."

And suddenly I couldn't keep it in anymore. "I hate her! I think she has a personal vendetta against me, you know? I'm late ever once in a while, and it's usually because Logan drives like a freaking maniac. I try really hard to get there on time, and she never gives me a break! I mean, come on, it's just homeroom, she doesn't have to take it so seriously."

Cam eased himself onto the bench beside the court with a sigh, like he'd been expecting me to burst. "Yeah. Hey, maybe she just doesn't like blondes."

I scowled at him, then abandoned my basketball to sit beside him. "No way. She doesn't like you either. But she's always going out of her way to pick on me! Like, I'm sorry I'm not perfectly on time every single day, but when I'm late to chemistry Mr. Chapman lets it slide!"

My best friend grimaced, "C'mon, Frank, you know Mr. Chapman's different."

"Yeah, he actually likes me! I swear, Mrs. Smith isn't even human, she's probably part witch or something, like Circe or Medea." I waved one hand through the air, referencing the sorceresses from the old Greek myths that I knew.

Cam rolled his eyes, but continued to listen to me rant about our homeroom teacher. After a minute or so, he broke me out of my thoughts by swatting at my hand, which had risen to my mouth without my knowing. "That is disgusting, Frankie," the boy chastised, making a face at me.

I knew that nail biting was a bad habit. I knew it was gross. But it was my first reaction whenever I got emotional about anything, especially when I was anxious. And nothing made me more anxious than detention.

"Sorry," I winced, instead using my hands to fiddle with a hair tie on my wrist, spinning it around on one finger and flicking it with another. "I'm just worried about track. You know, 'cause I missed practice today because of detention."

Cameron sighed, "You're good, I know you do it when you get anxious. It's just gross."

I shrugged, "it's a habit."

After reaching down to re-tie my running sneakers, I frowned.

"Why are your pants dirty, you didn't play, did you? Hey, where's Logan? I thought he was taking us home?"

Noticing that my best friend was wearing baseball pants with dirt caked up the side like he'd slid into one of the bases, I remembered that my stepbrother, who was a grade above us and on the baseball team with Cam, was supposed to give us a ride home, since he had his license.

And a car, which was ridiculously unfair.

The unmistakable sound of screeching breaks launched Cameron to his feet as I turned to see what was going on.

"It's just Logan," I said to Cam, my eyes on his foot, which he suddenly didn't need crutches for. "Your foot okay?"

Before the brunet could respond, my stepbrother was yelling out the passenger side window for us to get in the car.

And everything was normal again. Cam was back to himself as he thanked me for carrying his backpack, and I loaded my backpack, track bag, basketball, and all of my best friend's stuff into the trunk of Logan's car.

Cameron played the injury card and got the shotgun seat. If I wasn't so emotionally drained from detention, I would've fought with him over it, because I always get carsick when Logan drives. But whoever sits in the shotgun seat gets to choose the music, and Cameron has good taste.

"What's up, Frank?" Logan asked, turning around to bump fists with me. "How was detention?"

I glared at Cameron, who obviously was the one who told my big-mouthed brother. "Don't tell Dad and Maggie."

Logan smirked, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah, right. What's stopping me?"

"I'll tell Maggie that you broke your great-gram's urn."

I nearly smacked my face on the back of Logan's seat as he slammed on the breaks. "You wouldn't."

"Of course I would," I said indignantly as Cam shot Logan that read 'seriously?'.

Logan spluttered as he looked between the two of us. "But you two broke it when you were playing knee hockey in the family room!"

I raised my eyebrows. "Logan, I have no clue what you're talking about. Cameron and I haven't played knee hockey in the family room since we broke that window."

My brother glared at me. "You little-"

Cameron interrupted him. "Logue, the light's green."

And the car was quiet, save for the alternative rock radio station that Cam had found.

Blackmail is a messy business, but sometimes, it is necessary. Fortunately, between Logan and I, we've broken enough things that Maggie, my stepmom, will believe anything. Cameron and I broke her grandmother's urn a few weeks ago when we were playing knee hockey in the family room, like Logan said. But because I was already in trouble for getting detention that week (guess who gave it to me), and Logan had snuck out the weekend before, all of us had clammed up and Maggie still didn't know who cracked the urn.

It helped the Cameron would always take my side, no matter what. He practically lived at our house, especially since his dad travelled a lot. Our dads actually became friends when Cameron and I were in preschool, and it was just a coincidence that Mr. Tate ended up moving down the road from us when Cam and I were in kindergarten.

Maggie and Logan have been a part of our lives for just as long. My dad and Maggie got married when I was 5 and Logan was 7. She's not my real mom, but she might as well be, because she's the one who raised me. My real mom met my dad when he was covering the Yankees and lived in New York, they hit it off, and then she got pregnant with me. But she couldn't leave her job in New York, and my dad got assigned to cover the Phillies, and he took me with him when he moved to Philadelphia. My dad never heard from my mom again.

So, Dad raised me as a single dad until he and Maggie got back in touch, and the rest is history. From what I know, which isn't much, since my dad doesn't talk about his childhood a lot, but I know that him and Mags were friends at this summer camp that they went to, and when they grew up, they lost touch. When Dad found her again, he instantly fell in love with her.

Sometimes I wish Maggie was my real mom.

She and my dad are perfect for each other, and she's raised me like I'm her own kid, not even caring that my dad originally fell in love with someone else.

Was my dad in love with my mom? I don't really know. Maybe.

My dad is the coolest guy ever. His own dad wasn't around when he was growing up, so he works really hard to make sure that I never grew up feeling like I wasn't loved. Even though he travels a lot, he makes sure that he's home for the really important stuff.

My dad's a sportswriter. He covers baseball. Specifically the Phillies.

Right now, he was in Los Angeles for their series against the Dodgers, but we had tickets for the next home game against the Mets.

Dad grew up on Long Island, so he was a Mets fan. It's the only thing I could ever fault him for.

Logan, on the other hand, likes the Yankees. I think he's a bandwagon fan, to be honest, but don't you ever tell him I said that.

Maggie's an Angels fan, for some reason. I mean, I know she grew up in LA, but most people chose the Dodgers. The Angels are cool though. The Dodgers are just annoying.

With a slam of his door, Cameron broke me out of my thoughts. I got out of the car and went around back to the trunk to get his stuff since he couldn't carry it with his crutches.

"You gonna be okay?" Cameron asked me and I nodded.

"I think I just need a good night's sleep. Are we picking you up tomorrow morning?"

"Unless you need to be early so that you don't get detention again," my best friend smirked, and I punched him lightly in the shoulder.

"Just don't be late, or Mrs. Smith will have my head."

I was joking, but Cameron's smile quickly became ashen, his face pale.

"Cam, you good?" I reached out a hand to catch him in case he fainted or something.

He shook his head and gave me a small grin. "Was thinking about how boring my life would be if I had to make normal friends."

Laughing, I told him I'd talk to him later, and then got in the car beside Logan.

"What was that all about?" My brother asked me, and I frowned.

"What was what?"

Logan made a face as we backed out of the Tate's driveway, "Cam got all weird when you joked about Smith. Is something wrong?"

I frowned, "Not that I know of. Everything seems pretty normal."

AN: Please comment, favorite, follow, and PM me if you like what you read! Thanks guys!