I've kind of hit a brick wall, so this one's not my best. Sorry!

Isabella put Cooper in the Hermes cabin. With the recent war, they had a couple empty bunks. She sat with me in Julia's, I mean, my room.

"Who do you think your dad is?" she asked.

"I think Apollo. I'm okay with music, and I'm actually pretty good at archery," I replied.

"That would make sense," Isabella agreed. "Once, though, everyone thought this one kid was a son of Aphrodite, and it turned out to be Hephaestus. You never know."

"Or maybe I'll get the god of Star Wars," I said.

"Apollo. God of movies."

"The god of writing."

"Apollo."

"Uh... first-aid? I'm pretty good at that."

"Apollo."

I looked out of the open door and said the first thing I saw, which happened to be Rachel's cave. "Prophecy?"

"That would be Apollo," Isabella said.

"Oh, heck. Is there anything Apollo isn't the god of?" I asked.

Isabella stared at me blankly. "Of course. That's what the other gods are for."

I face-palmed and flopped onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. "How's your family?" I asked.

Isabella was quiet for a second, and I sensed I'd hit a sensitive topic. "My dad was Ferdinand Underwood. You know Grover? I'm his cousin on the satyr side. Dad went off to search for Pan a few years ago. He never came back."

"Oh." I wanted to say I'm sorry, but those words were so overused. It would sound so fake. "That stinks."

Isabella smiled sadly. "True. At least my mom is fine. She's an oak dryad, one of the servers at the dining pavilion. Oaks last a long time, and dryads last as long as their trees do. We celebrated Mom's 137th birthday last week."
"Wow. I don't mean to call your mom old, but... that's old," I said.

"Oh, it's really not. Mom's about the equivalent of a thirty-five-year-old. Her species has an average lifespan of two to three hundred years," she explained.

"Wow. Does she ever tell you stories about the 18..." I did the math. "...80s?"

"No. She was little then. She tells me about the World Wars sometimes, though. And the Civil War."

"Wait, wasn't that in the 1860s? She's older than that, right?" I asked.

"Her mom told her stories," Isabella said.

"Oh." I tried to think of something else to discuss, but I couldn't. We'd hit what I call a conversational wall: we had reached the end of a topic, and no one had anything else to talk about.

We sat there until Isabella checked her watch. If we were quick, we'd be able to make it to the dining pavilion before dinner. So we ran. To say we got there in the nick of time is an understatement. Chiron had literally just blown the conch horn for dinner when we arrived, breathless and sweaty. I took the spot right next to the head of the Hermes table, which was conveniently labeled with a large number 11. Within a minute, the rest of the campers had made their way to the pavilion and looked very surprised to see that the new girl had gotten there before them. I grinned and waved to Cooper. He, aware of my incredible speed, was unfazed by my early arrival. A boy around fourteen started to sit next to me, but a guy who I assumed was the head counselor intervened.

"Gus, this table has rules. Rule numero uno: Thou shalt not sit next to an unclaimed camper without permission. Rule numero dos: Thou shalt not sit next to a lady without permission. Rule numero three: Unclaimed campers get first choice of seats. Then camp counselors. Then everyone else. Then people who break the rules. Such as thou," he said.

"I like those rules," I decided. Cooper, knowing a little Spanish, looked quite confused, probably because the guy didn't use the Spanish word for three. I, of course, was right.

"Why didn't you say tres instead of three?" he asked.

The counselor grinned. "We recently added the third rule. The only Spanish words I know are numero, uno, and dos."

The head counselor's twin, probably co-head counselor, poked him. "And hola. Anyway, Lord Cooper." He bowed and gestured to the table. Cooper plopped down next to me.

"Whoa, Coop. Rules numeros uno y dos," a camper warned.

"It's okay. She knows me, don't you, EmCay?" Cooper teased.

I elbowed him. "Yeah, I know you, you overgrown... uh... let me think of something."

I was instantly drenched in a shower of suggestions. Stymphalian bird and worm seemed to be the most popular. Unsure what a Stymphalian bird was, I picked worm. Cooper just laughed.

Dinner was pulled pork sandwiches and salad. Here's another random fact about me: I am super picky. Like, spaghetti and meatballs? Nope. Mashed potatoes? No way. Pulled pork and salad? Not. Gonna. Happen, and not just because I hate salad. I would love the sandwich, except I don't do pig products. In my opinion, pigs are too smart to be eaten. Feel free to kill me now.

I asked the dryad who served me for Cheerios. She did a double take, than complied. See, this is why I make my own meals. It's kind of a natural human thing. Someone asks for breakfast cereal for dinner, you look at her weird when she asks and then you look at her weird when you bring it. If someone makes her own breakfast cereal for dinner, you only look at her weird once and can spend your time on other things. Win-win.

Cooper didn't look at me weird. Like I said, he knows me.

Everyone got up and walked to the table at the head of the pavilion. I had almost forgotten: We needed to do the sacrifice thingy. I was last in line, right behind Cooper. When it was my turn, I burned a spoonful of the least soggy Cheerios and said a prayer: Please claim me tonight and please don't be Ares or Hephaestus or Aphrodite or Demeter. No offense.

Once we were all back in our seats, Chiron (in horse form) stomped his hoof. "Heroes! I have heard rumors that the bonfire is off tonight. They are false. The weekly bonfire will be held as usual."

Everyone cheered except a few kids at the Ares table. I assumed they had been the ones spreading the rumor.

"Also, we have two new campers, Cooper Buzzard and Emily Cadence." He gestured to the Hermes table. I waved. Cooper, the drama king, stood and took a bow, making everyone laugh.

"We will not have a climbing wall race this week," Chiron continued. "The Apollo cabin has requested that they be stopped because of the increased number of injuries last week." I could have sworn he glanced at a little kid at the Hephaestus table. "Now, let us eat! To the gods!" The campers repeated the chant.

"So," said the taller head counselor. He and his twin were sharing the seat at the head of the table, and they were constantly shoving each other. The taller one got shoved less, which was good because he was the one next to me. "I'm Travis. The doofus here is Connor."

"You're the doofus!" Connor argued and shoved Travis.

Travis shoved him back and continued. "We're not twins, if that's what you were thinking. Everyone does. I'm older."

"No, I'm older!" Connor complained. Travis was ready for him this time and managed to fend off his shove. They started arguing, which looked pretty funny. If you ever see something funnier than two sixteen-year-olds (okay, one fifteen-year-old and one sixteen-year-old) arguing about who's older while sitting in a seat meant for one at the head of a table with six other kids, please let me know.

"Guys! Were you going to say something else?" I said. Glancing around, I noticed that most conversation had stopped and most people were either watching us or the Ares table, which was having a much larger argument that involved the whole table and flying lettuce. Don't ask.

I managed to get Travis's attention. "Oh, yeah," he said. "What did Cooper call you? Ennay?"

"It's EmCay, but only Cooper and Isabella-" I pointed to Bella up at the head table "- are allowed to call me that. My real name is Emily Cadence."

"My cousin's last name is Cadence," Gus muttered.

Here we go, I thought. "No, my first name is Emily Cadence. My last name is Lasicola-Parkenson."

Gus blinked. "You have four names?"

"Five. My middle name is Jennifer."

I could hear the salad fight at the Ares table while the Hermes campers tried to figure out my name.

"Your name is Emily Cadence Jennifer Lasicola-Parkenson?" Connor asked.

"Perfecto," I said.

Suddenly, a scream of rage silenced all other conversation. Apparently, someone had aimed their lettuce wrong and hit the head counselor of the Demeter cabin in the face. "Oh, crap," Travis said. And then all Hades broke loose.

Everyone's salad rose up from their plates and flew. Within seconds, the Ares table was buried – but not for long. The tallest of them – Clarisse La Rue, probably, if her loaded necklace and stringy light brown hair were any indication – launched herself at the Demeter girl. Chiron had to fire a fart arrow, which I could smell from the other end of the pavilion, to break up the combat. The two backed up, Clarisse with vines growing out of her combat boots and the girl from Demeter covered in bruises and dazed. Both of them had lettuce in their hair and on their clothes. Ranch dressing dripped from Clarisse's hair onto her face.

"Girls! We do not initiate violence except in the training arenas, especially not over a piece of lettuce! Both of you have KP and stable-cleaning duty for a month! Will, please get Katie to the infirmary; it looks like she's about to lose consciousness. Clarisse, there are cleaning supplies in the kitchen. Please begin cleaning up the pavilion. The campfire is in one hour! All who are not busy-" here he looked pointedly at Clarisse "- may attend. Free time until the campfire. Please do not try to play basketball, as all our basketballs are currently deflated and you might get injured trying to play with something else. You are dismissed."

Despite Chiron's warning, a group of boys were trying to play basketball with someone's sneaker. Cooper and I sat down and counted how many times someone got hit in the head. At 24, his hand touched mine. By 26, we were holding hands. I lost count at 27. I was busy either being really happy that Cooper had made a gesture of affection, finally, or being really confused about whether I liked Nico di Angelo or Cooper. Nico was really cute and obviously needed a friend, but I knew Cooper. We were best friends, and I'd had a crush on him for a while now.

I was just going to confuse myself more, so I put it out of my mind and decided to just enjoy being with Cooper. I'd think about it later. Eventually, another conch horn sounded, for the campfire, I assumed, and Cooper helped me up. I was about to grab my jacket, since it felt like it was 55 degrees, even though it was only September (hey, I'm used to Texas weather.), when Cooper put his arm around my shoulders and kissed me on the cheek. He opened his mouth to say something, but it wasn't at all what I expected: "EmCay, wake up."

My head snapped up. I was still sitting on a bench facing a now-empty basketball court. I had fallen asleep. My hand was still in Cooper's, so I assumed that had been real, but I was pretty sure I had dreamed the kiss. Bummer.

"Well, that was fast," Cooper muttered. "Come on, it's time for the campfire. Chiron said we're probably going to get claimed." He dropped his hand and stuck it in his pocket. Just like that. Insert frowny face.

At the campfire, we sang a lot of songs I didn't know, mainly about either grandparents or armor, or both. The campfire changed color and height as we sang, ranging from bright purple to blood red, and usually around twenty feet tall. I eventually deducted that it changed with the campers' moods, because it was purple when we were singing, lime green as the satyrs were passing out marshmallows, and red when a marshmallow fight broke out (near where the Ares cabin was sitting, of course). Everyone kept glancing at Cooper and I. I knew what they were thinking, because I was thinking it myself: Why haven't the newbies been claimed yet?

It did happen eventually, though. We were playing a game called the Never-Ending Story. Chiron started a story with a sentence, then pointed to someone, who said another sentence and pointed to someone else... you get the picture. When it got to Cooper, he stood up and was about to say something when a glowing white dove appeared over his head. I, not knowing what this meant, looked to Chiron.

"Hail, Cooper Buzzard," he said, "son of Aphrodite."

Cooper's expression was hilarious. He looked like someone had just told him Isabella was his sister while he was hanging upside-down by his feet – which is to say, surprised and bright red. More than one person – possibly including me – snickered.

Cooper sat down again, still blushing. Everyone stared expectantly at me, like, One down, one to go. It was starting to get uncomfortable when I realized they weren't expecting anything. They were surprised at something – really surprised. I looked up. Above me was a spinning light tan circle with a black scythe in the middle. Dread coursed through me.

"Hail, Emily Cadence," he intoned. I was too surprised to even supply my last name. Even I knew what this meant. Chiron continued. "Daughter of Hades."