Me? Update late? I don't know what you're talking about.

When I got to school, everyone was laughing and joking around. I envied them for that. They weren't forced to kill innocent people for an illegal company, they didn't have their close friends and family killed if their boss gets bored. Their lives were simple. Me? I had to choose my life or the lives a bunch of normal people. I wanted to stop the MoA. I don't know why now, and not before. I think it was because my mom died. I would never taste her delicious blue cookies, I'd never hear her soothing voice, or feel her comforting hand. Everyone takes their parents for granted, me included. But you probably don't want to hear about the details before school.

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It was the end of English, and Mr. Blofis called me back before I left for class.

"I'm sorry to keep your next teacher waiting, but I wanted to talk to you." Apologize? My next class was math, with Mrs. Dodds. I swear, she was out to get me. I mean really. Giving me the hardest questions, and then giving me detention for 'not paying attention in class' if I gave the wrong questions. She knew I had dyslexia and ADHD, but no... She just calls them excuses. For what? Beats me. Maybe for 'not paying attention in class'. I mean really. And that leather jacket she always wore? It's like she's trying to be cool, but not showing it. And really, the jacket is not a good look for her. Her fashion sense is- I'm turning into a girl. Talking about fashion stuff.

"Percy?" Oh yeah, Mr. Blofis was talking to me. I must have zoned out a bit there.

"Hm?" Paul looked at me, concerned.

"Percy, Are you alright? You seemed a bit out of it today."

"What do you mean?"

"You seemed distracted. Is there anything wrong?"

"I'm ADHD. You can't expect me to not be distracted."

"Percy, if there's anything I can do to help..."

"I'm fine," I snapped, my voice coming out harsher than I wanted it to. Mr. Blofis looked a bit taken aback by my short, unintended outburst. I took his moment of silence to my advantage, and slipped out of his room. I didn't need him to know my mom died, and I was apprehensive of breaking down in front of one of my favourite teachers. Besides, I hadn't cried about my mother's death yet, and I wasn't about to start.

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I was planning on eating lunch by myself, but Thalia, Annabeth and Connor decided to join me. My day so far was crap.

"So, you decided to return to school, did you?" Connor asked.

"So you decided to join me for lunch?" I shot back rudely. I felt someone kick me beneath the table, but I didn't show any sign of feeling it.

"What's wrong. You're not being yourself," Annabeth questioned.

"Not myself? Tell me, what makes you say that?" I leaned onto my elbows and looked at Annabeth with false interest.

"Percy, stop being a dick and tell us what's got you down," Thalia demanded.

"Well why do you care? You and Connor don't give a damn."

"I'm your cousin Percy."

"So? You don't see me having heart to heart chats with my dad. Face it Pinecone Face, our family just doesn't get along." You're wondering why I call her Pinecone Face? When we were younger, we'd always play hide 'n seek. Thalia always hid up in a pine tree, and even though we knew where she was, we could never find her in the tree. She blended in so well with the tree, she almost looked like part of it. How she could hide that well with the contrast between her dark hair, bright eyes, black clothing and the trunk of the tree was beyond me.

"Is that the problem? Your family?" Annabeth asked. "What happened to your mom?"

"What makes you say it was my mom? Maybe it's my dad." I made sure not to answer to quickly, but not hesitate too long. Annabeth raised her eyebrow.

"Your dad's dead," she replied simply.

"I wish," I mumbled, but I think Annabeth may have heard it. "How would you know that?"

"Thalia told me." I knew she was lying. That short hesitation, the barely noticeable quaver in her voice. I let it go. I wasn't in the mood for talking.

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Detention was over, thank God. You can't expect an ADHD kid to sit still and stay quiet in a room with boring things in it and come out fully sane. I was smiling like an idiot because of the freedom. See? I hardly ever smile like that, so you know I wasn't fully sane.

That smile dropped when I passed a dark alleyway. And of course, Luke had to be there. Holding a girl in front of him, with a gun held against her head. The girl had a cut across her cheek and arms, her face also covered in some dirt and was tearstained. Blood was sliding down with the tears, and half her arm was also covered in a thin layer of the liquid. I recognized her .

"I'll ask you one more time. Where. Does. He. Live?" he snarled into her ear.

"I'll never tell you." She spit in his face. Or at least tried to. You can't turn your head much with a gun pressed to your head. Luke growled and shoved her against the wall. She whimpered and slid down. Luke spat at her feet.

"Wrong answer Sweetheart. I don't trust you not going to the police. Of course, you can't go tell them if you're dead, now can you?" The girl gave Luke a defiant look, but her eyes held fear. I don't know what made me want to protect Annabeth from Luke, but I did anyway. It might have also been the lust for punching Luke in the face.

"You know Luke, trying to get an innocent to tell you where someone lives is low. Even for you, and that's saying something." Luke stopped his suspenseful stride towards Annabeth and looked at me, a malicious grin plastered on his face.

"Percy, I've been looking for you!" He spread his arms out in a friendly gesture. Yeah right. I leaned against the building casually, mimicking his grin.

"Yeah? Guess I'm pretty damned good at hiding accidentally then."

"I've been meaning to get rid of you." He rushed at me and swung his gun at my head.. I easily ducked, but when I rose to my feet the gun was aimed in the area between my eyes. I heard a click, and saw Luke's finger on the trigger. I saw Annabeth suppress a scream, with tears flowing down her cheeks. A tearful Annabeth. What an oxymoron.

I moved quickly. I kneed him in the crotch, and Luke dropped to the ground, groaning, dropping the gun. I kicked the gun towards Annabeth, who stared at it in fear. I grabbed Luke by the collar, pulled him up so that we were eye-to-eye. I could see the rancour in his eyes. I punched him across the face with my free hand. That would leave a mark. I let him drop to the ground again, but Luke stood back up, hardly wavering. He punched me in the eye, guaranteeing me a black eye. Before I could do Anything, Luke had jumped up, and kicked me in the chest with both his feet. I landed on my back, and Luke was soon over me, his hands tight around my throat. My hands instinctively went to his hands, trying to pry his hands away. I was running out of oxygen, but Luke just kept tightening his grip. I finally gave up, but his eyes soon rolled into the back of his head before they closed, and he collapsed on me. I finally managed to free his grip, and I pushed him off me. I started taking in lungfuls of air. I dragged Luke behind a garbage bin. No one would find him there, and when he woke up, he'd be met with an awful stench. I saw Annabeth staring at Luke with wide eyes. She was gripping the gun so hard, her knuckles were white. I could tell by the way she was holding it, that she had hit Luke with the butt of the gun, knocking him out. She looked a bit unstable. I walked up to her.

"Annabeth? Are you alright?" She replied by dropping the gun and collapsing into me. I instinctively caught her and pulled her upright. She clutched onto the front of my sleeveless white shirt (which was now blood stained and dirty) and I felt my shoulder getting wet. I awkwardly put my hands around her and pulled her closer. I knew how she must have felt. She shouldn't deal with getting beat up by a stranger, and then see one of her friends almost choked, and have to knock that man out.

She finally stopped sobbing, but her grip on my shirt didn't weaken. I let go of her with one hand and picked up the fallen gun. No need for Luke to keep it. I slid it into the waistband of my jeans, and made sure to cover it with the hem of the bottom of my shirt. I shifted Annabeth to my side, and she finally released my shirt. I supported her, as she was still unstable. I noticed that a cut on her arm was bleeding more heavily than others, so I ripped a piece of my shirt (not covering the gun) and wrapped it around her arm so that it was applying pressure, but wasn't too tight. Annabeth's house was too far away, so I brought her over to my house. Many people stared at us, mostly at Annabeth, probably wondering what the hell had happened.

Annabeth couldn't walk up the stairs, so I picked her up bridal style and brought her to my room. I laid her down on my bed and went to get a washcloth. I soaked it with cold water and went to clean Annabeth's wounds. The cut on her cheek wasn't deep, but I could tell it stung, because Annabeth bit her lip. None of the cuts were bad, except for the one on her right arm. It kept leaking blood. It didn't look that big of a deal, because it wasn't that thick, and it wasn't deep enough to hurt anything important. I told Annabeth to apply pressure on it with the cloth while I got the first aid kit.

"This is gonna sting a bit," I warned her before applying some rubbing alcohol onto the wound. She muffled a scream, but let me patch her up. The bleeding wasn't as serious anymore, and I was able to wrap it up.

"Thank you," she whispered to me. I stood to leave, but Annabeth grabbed my hand.

"Please stay," she requested quietly. I obliged and sat on the edge of the bed. Annabeth crawled over and rested her head in my lap. I was surprised, and I'll admit; I almost jumped up and ran away. But I stayed and let Annabeth fall asleep. I unconsciously played with her curls. I never noticed how soft they were, or how they smelled of lemons. Her face and body were so relaxed.

After about ten minutes since Annabeth fell asleep, I gently removed her head and replaced my lap with my pillow. I noticed how Annabeth's body became alert, and she shifted around a bit, but she didn't wake up. I took the knife that normally stayed under my pillow, and stashed it in my desk's drawer. I took Luke's gun and slipped it into and extra hidden pocket of my hoodie. I threw my shirt in the garbage. The stains wouldn't come out, and I wasn't going to be wearing a ripped, bloodstained shirt out in public. I put on a black muscle shirt instead. This would've been a perfect opportunity to kill Annabeth, except for one thing. I wasn't following the MoA's orders anymore. I went back to my room and started reading one of my mom's books. Reading it only reminded me of my mother's death, and as depressed I felt about it, I kept reading it. Or tried to anyway. I eventually gave up and went to watch a movie.

An hour later, Annabeth joined me. I had made some popcorn, and we munched on it, engrossed into the movie. When it finally ended, Annabeth thanked me again.

"I-I would be dead now if it wasn't for you." I just shrugged. "You seemed so calm, talking to Luke."

"I've dealt with him before." She looked at me, obviously startled.

"Why? How?" I shouldn't have said that, should I?

"It doesn't really matter." That seemed to be a popular excuse. "Your clothes look awful. Do you want to borrow one of mine?" Her clothes were worse than mine had been. Annabeth looked down at her shirt and blushed.

"I probably should." We walked back to my room, and I handed her a plain, green t-shirt. I left the room and closed the door behind me. My shirt was only a bit big for Annabeth. It was definitely loose on her, and the neck was low enough so that it showed most of her chest, but not low enough to show and cleavage. I could see her bra strap at the shoulder.

"Can't I borrow one of Helen's shirts?" she complained. I fake pouted.

"Is my shirt not good enough?" She glared at me. "Helen's clothes wouldn't fit you. She's smaller than you. And I mean that in the least offensive way."

"If my dad sees me in a boy's shirt, he'll be pissed."

"Why." Annabeth just raised her eyebrows. It dawned on me what her dad might think we were doing. "Never mind. You better go home. Your parents must be worried."

"I doubt they even noticed I left," she muttered. She probably didn't mean me to hear it. "What do I tell them though?"

"The truth?" I suggested.

"Right. Of course. Bye Percy. And thanks again. For saving me and all.

"What are friends for?" She smiled and left. Did I just call her a friend? Were we friends? I mean, I had tried to kill her! But...I guess we were sort of friends after all.

I have good reason for updating today and not yesterday. It's because I just wanted to say, May the 4th be with you!

Hello dear Reviewers...

Jamie Blue Daughter of Athena – Thanks. You got some part right. :)

XOsweetPURPLEcandyOX – Yeah, yeah. Okay ;)

ihatemakingupusernames – I like authors like that too. I don't always like how an author makes you think someone is about to die, and then they miraculously survive. I guess that's why I like HP so much :) And I only had four hours of sleep a night for a week, so don't blame me :P But thanks for the critisism. Thanks! (again)

UPDATE – Maybe, maybe not. Thanks!

PercyJacksonsLittleSister – Yup.

anon – Thanks :) And happy *insert age here* years and eight days day!

Percabeth rocks 4 ever – Thanks.

arissaprincess321 – He's the one who's supposed to kill her sooo... but good point ;)

The Innocent Human – Well I've got twists. Yupyup.

ChildofWisdom – Hello again COW! Favourite Number...Now why can't my friends come up with awesome nicknames like that? Thanks :)

Katerina Riley – Thanks! Did you finish? I was squealing and jumping on my bed while reading pages 82-84. And the foreshadowing of a crossover! Not to mention the preview of the FIRST CHAPTER of MARK OF ATHENA. Gah. Too much exitement.