CODY

From the minute is saw Kestrel when I first came to Spence Academy, I knew she was the half-blood I was looking for.

Her black hair to her waist, pale, pale skin, and bright purple eyes gave it away easily.

But today at breakfast she was not like she had even been before, yet I'd only known her a couple weeks.

She was quiet. Almost invisible. She got her food. Scraped some into the fire. Sat down at the only unoccupied table.

One of the strangest things was, she was wearing a turtleneck even though it was summer.

I went up to Percy Jackson, Son of Poseidon. It took seconds for me to convince him and his girlfriend, Annabeth, to come and talk to her.

Annabeth was all smiles.

"Hi," she said to Kestrel. "I'm Annabeth Chase. This is Percy. You must be new."

"No, really?" Kes said sarcastically. "I didn't notice, Blondie."

That was more like it.

Annabeth smiled, obviously on her last nerve.

"What's your name?"

"Kestrel Black."

"Well, Kestrel Black I guess I underestimated you."

"Fab. Now I can die happy."

Kes turned to Percy.

"So you're Percy Jackson. The fish-boy."

"And you're Kestrel Black. The annoying one."

She shrugged. "I'm not a big morning person. If the sun isn't up, I ain't up. I likes my sleep."

She took a long breath. "Can you guys leave. I have to talk to Cody. Alone."

Annabeth muttered, "Whatever. Let's go. I'm out of blonde for the day."

After they left, it was silent for a while. Suddenly, Kestrel burst out, "I'm thinking about going with Mrs. Meyers."

"What?!" I stood up.

Let's say, this wasn't my normal scream. It was more like and explosion. I'm talkin' Pearl Harbor material. Everybody turned around to stare. Even Mr. D, the camp director.

She put her hand on my trembling arm. I yanked it away.

"You promised me you wouldn't go!" I yelled, prepared to win.

"I didn't—promise anything," Kestrel whispered. "I don't have to promise you anything."

For the first time since I've known her, she actually looked small. Almost helpless. She winced, as if suspecting me to hit her.

"It's all my fault." Was all she said as she ran out of the Mess Hall.

"You don't control my life, Cody. You don't know what I've gone through. I've lived six years with an abusive parent. I watched my brother die when I was three. The only reason they haven't kicked me out of school is because I have no place to go. If my father even is a God, why the hell hasn't he done anything?"

I was yelling at the top of my lungs.

"I've been teased about being Little Orphan Annie for 10 years and when someone tries to give me a better life, you just say 'NO'?! Dammit, Cody, this is one time when I get to have a say in my life, NOT YOU."

And they say rock concerts deafen people. If I screamed that into a microphone, the entire state of New York would go deaf.

We were neck-in-neck. I could feel his breath on my cheek. And you know what happened?

Up close, I noticed that Cody had really sweet brown eyes and that he was actually kind of…

Damn these female hormones. And it doesn't help that at that moment he chose to step closer.

"Kes, I just don't want you to get hurt. And I know full well you can handle hurt. And that you can dish it out. Believe me, I've warned everyone that when you say 'I know MMA' you aren't kidding. You also have a habit of making the wrong choices. But strength isn't just how well you hide the pain."

I put a finger on my arm and winced.

"Let me look at it," he order, his voice soft an friendly.

I could never fight with him. He would be a great lawyer. He can very easily win a discussion and can always (mostly, at least) keep his cool.

"You don't need to explain," he said. "I know how it happened and I know who you are. And tonight you are going to move in with your brothers and sisters in your new cabin."

There was silence.

"Cody? Who am I?" I asked quietly.

He stopped and looked into my eyes. "You're Penthesilea Black. Your father is Morpheus, God of Dreams. You have the power to enter other's dreams and you can make your dreams—and your nightmare's—come to life. And that's how you got so beat up.

"You also have a brain the size of Atlantis. You're a pretty tough chic, but you have a heart like putty. And, you're arm is firmly wrapped."

I looked at him. Really looked at him. And I saw how great a friend he was.

"The whole wrapping-my-arm-while-staring-into-my-eyes thing is cool. But there's one problem."

"What?" he asked.

"You wrapped it with poison ivy."

I had just come, but I was already leaving. I had decided once and for all to accept Ms. Meyers proposal, but I was still heading back to Spence for basketball camp. Spence always has sports camps during the summers.

You might (or not) want to know that Ms. Meyers ("mom") already has other kids. 3 girls: Angela (19), Juliet (16), and Emma (8), and 2 adopted boys: Jeremy (17) and Sam (11).

"Hey, chica! Kes!" Carly yelled from across the gym. She was one of by best friends, next to Cody. Her and her brother Campbell.

I slung my worn out Adidas bag over by shoulder and went over to greet her.

"Hey, Carly. Where's Cam?"

"In our dorm still."

(Spence has 7 dorms. Wellington, Burton, Pennington, Kennilworth, Hapsley, Porthaven, and Bardwell. We—the orphans—stayed in Porthaven.)

Someone put their hands over my eyes.

"Guess who?"

"Cam…" I said, feigning annoyance.

"So," he said, coming into view. I swung his arm over Carly's shoulder. "I hear you took Ms. Sheila up on her offer."

"Yeah."

He shrugged. "When life gives you lemons—shut up and eat your lemons, chica."

"What'cha listening to?"

Mason Jones took the Def Leppard CD out of my CD player.

"Ooh. An oldies fan." He joked.

Def Leppard was one of my favorite bands along with The Beatles, The Who, AC/DC, KISS, Blue Oyster Cult, Led Zepplin, Grateful Dead, and Aerosmith.

"Yeah," I replied, snatching back my CD. "I'm into classic rock. What about you?"

He sat own next to me at the lunch table.

"I'm more of a punk rock guy."

Mason was a cool guy. I had never really thought about him in any other way.

He was ah-maze-ing at basketball.

But then, our innocent little conversation was ruined. Charlotte "Lottie" Carmichael came out of the lunch line.

She was the stereotypical high school wrecking ball. Head cheerleader (at cheer camp), blonde, fake nose. You get my drift.

And she would destroy anyone who got in the way of her prize: Mason.

Talking to him in front of her was social suicide. But since my mom had practically committed suicide, I was experienced.

It's not like I had a social status to lose. I was a tomboy loser freak who had no family or life.

But that's the problem. Mason never talked to girls. No girl was really worried about it. I mean, like, until now.

The worst thing was that Lottie already hated my guts. I was so anti-cheerleader it wasn't even funny. Well, it kind of was.

Like when I spiked their Gatorade with Tabasco or hung their HUGE bras from the flagpole. Good times, good times.

But Lottie also hated me because a couple summer's ago, after 7th grade, after the biggest basketball game of the year against St. Raphael's Prep she saw Mason kiss me on the lips.

It was, of course, my first kiss. And my only kiss with Mason. Or ever. No, wait—(train of thought currently stuck at station)—never mind.

All I have to say is: She. Hates. My. Guts.

Translation: not good.

But she paid us no mind. Mason said something.

"Sorry, what?" I asked, startled out of my day-nightmare.

"I asked if you wanted to shoot some hoops."

"Uh…sure. Why not? 'M not hungry, anyway." I grabbed a water bottle and together we ran towards the gym.

"Hey, wait. I'm going to see if Cody wants to come," I said. "Meet you there."

I turned around just in time to see Lottie drape herself over him. And he was totally ok with it

I caught up to Mason.

"He's kinda preoccupied."

We shot some hoops and fooled around a bit. Like the old pals that we were. Soon enough, other basketball-ers came in and we started a shirts-vs-skins game.

When I passed the ball to Mason and he threw it in the basket, making our team win, I laughed and gave him a high-five, which turned into a hug.

I turned around and saw Cody staring in amazement. I answered him with an expressionless face.

"Gravity is seriously pulling me down, tipos." Carly huffed, flopping into a chair in the common room. She threw her pom-poms at the door.

"I don't believe in gravity." I said.

"You, uh, you no believe in gravity?"

"Well, it's not so much that, you know, like, I don't believe in it, it's just...I don't know, lately I get the feeling that I'm not so much being pulled down as I am being pushed." I stammered.

Someone knocked on the door.

"Uh-oh. It's Isaac Newton, and he's pissed." Cam joked.

Weird, I thought. That door is always unlocked.

"Come in?"

Nothing.

"Hello?"

I went over to the door and opened it.

Nobody there. I shivered despite the warm breeze. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw some movement.

I decided, against my better judgment, to follow it.

Maybe it was just Cody. Or Percy. Or Annabeth. Maybe it was one of my half-siblings, Katy, Simon, or little Ann.

I heard a crash of a breaking window, then a scream.

I watched as the little 4-year-old boy, my brother, crashed to the ground, the grass stained with blood.

I let out a awful yell.

Cam and Carly came running. I was on the ground, screaming "Izzy!", my brother's name. I turned my head toward them, tears streaming down my cheeks.

They looked confused. I turned back toward the body, but nothing was there.

No blood, no boy, nothing.

As if my mom had already come, stuffed him in a suitcase, and thrown him in the river.

I pushed past them an ran into my room. Slowly, I my mind began to clear. Just a dream. Just a—

"Havin' fun?"

I yelped. Turning on my heel, I punched whoever was begin me in the jaw.

Cody toppled to the floor.

I gasped, "Omigod, Cody! I'm so sorry…"

He winced and cupped his jaw with his hand.

"S'okay," he mumbled.

"Wh—what are you doing here?" I asked, still a little shaken up.

"Besides throbbing? I just wanted to talk. About…what's his name. Jason? Martin?"

"Mason."

"Whatever," he said. "I don't think he's right for you."

"'Not right for me'? We're just friends. We both like rock music and basketball, he's funny, he's nice, what's wrong with him? And why do you care?"

"I don't care, it's just—"

"Oh, you don't care. Then why don't you leave me alone? I haven't said anything about Lottie LaSlut, so I expect the same from you."

"Kes—" he said pleadingly.

"Go away, Cody. We're done here."