DAMN GUYS! FIFTY CHAPTERS! And nearly 150 pages on Gdocs I think! Wootwoot! And...a lot of reviews. Idk how many exactly. KEEP REVIEWING!

Sorry, I kinda disappeared again. But Saturday was JV conference and Sunday was a recovery day. My shoulders still hurt.

So, for non-swimmers, JV conference is a big deal (for JV peeps, your last meet in the season is a big deal, whether it be JV conference, V conference, Sectionals, or State). I mean: Shave arms and legs and wearing a fast suit. A lot of swimmers don't shave the entire season until their last meet (I was not one of them).

So, I was in the 200 (8 laps) and 500 (20 laps).

In the 200...I cut SIX SECONDS off to get a time of 2:18!

AND...

I cut THIRTEEN SECONDS OFF OF MY 500 TO GET A TIME OF 6:29!

First, with the 200, I was nervous cuz we had a meet on thursday and I did AWFUL! I would have been cool to be around my OLD best time, 2:24. So breaking twenty? AMAZING!

And the 500? I never DREAMED i would break forty, so breaking thirty? OMIGOD! I was crying (though that was equal parts joy and exhaustion). :D SO HAPPY!

Now, two weeks off before swim starts again. Yay? :/

Anyhoo, I may or may not update tomorrow. The next and last Beautiful Creature novel comes out! You should read the series guys!

Also, I've noticed I haven't had much action as of late. I'll try to fix that soon. :)

One last thing.

Okay, people, I'm sorry. Percy and Annabeth WILL NOT come back to life. I think I have an idea to get them to see Lena, but it'll be a short conversation, and after that they will remain dead. Sorry guys. Personally, if I was reading this story, I wouldn't be able to take that ending seriously. [SPOLIER] I promise she gets a happy ending, it's just not gonna be THAT one. I've gotten a lot of replies on multiple of my stories about that. I hate to break it to you, but it ain't gonna happen. Flame me if you desire, I gotta stick with my decision. If I couldn't take it seriously reading it, I can't take it seriously writing it. I think it's the aspiring-author in me.

On a lighter note. I'm actually pretty proud of this chapter. Maybe not writing has left this all pent in because all of a sudden I'm writing sentences and I'm like 'Damn, that sounds good!' So, yeah. Proud.

Listening to: Remembering Sunday by All Time Low

Disclaimer: ...

Restlessness came about twenty minutes after 'rest'. I stood. I paced. I sat. I twitched. I stood again. I sat again. I drummed my fingers. I tapped my toes. Zack just leaned back, his eyes closed, yet fully awake.

"Relax, Lena."

I glared at him, but it was futile. Like I said, his eyes were closed.

Still he smiled. "I can feel you sending daggers at me."

I growled and stood to pace again. "How can you be so freaking zen?"

He shrugged. "I'm in a good place."

"A bus full of armed demigods?" I glanced to the Hephaestus kids. "Who all of which may not be exactly friendly to us?"

"Not exactly what I was thinking."

I felt my face redden and turned away, as if he could sense my blushing as well as he had my glaring. He probably could. How come he always knew what to say, while I was grasping at nothing for some words to utter in truth?

I sat down, my thumb between my teeth. My knee bounced up and down. Zack's hand shot out and laid his hand on top. He opened his eyes and rolled his head to look at me. "Calm down, Lena."

"How?" I demanded. "I'm ADHD. I'm going nuts!" I stood and continued to pace. I so wanted to pull out my sword and practice maneuvers, but doubted the other demigods would appreciate that. The bus was jerking around so much I could skewer a kid without attempting.

That would make three kills on my head.

Or more. It's a really bumpy road. You never know how many you'll hit.

My hands clenched into fists. I couldn't think like that anymore.

Unfortunately, the dam had broken, and all emotions felt raw and ten times as strong as I recalled. I knew I needed to stop shoving them away, that was what had gotten me into this mess, but I was not going to grieve in front of a bus full of demigods.

Speaking of bumps in the road, the bus hit a pothole, sending me, who was still standing, sprawling on top of Zack.

Like, ON TOP of Zack.

I blushed, once again, I scampered up quickly, but not so gracefully. Zack looked like he was containing his laughter. I attempted a glare, while simultaneously putting a piece of hair behind my ear. He saw right through my facade.

"Shut up, jackass." I muttered.

He just smiled. He saw through that facade too.

I groaned. "When are we getting off this hell hole?"

Zack grabbed my wrist and looked at my father's watch. "Lena. It's about nine in the morning. We're not stopping until around noon."

I groaned again, even louder.

Freedom came slowly. I honestly believe this was how a prisoner felt. Trapped and secluded, yet crowded by strangers who may or may not be wondering how to best go about killing you at that moment. Fresh air seemed an eternity away, despite what my watch said.

For the ever-lasting three hours, I continued to move about. Sitting. Standing. Pacing. Sitting. Drumming. Standing. Sitting. Knee bouncing. It was constant and erratic. The evidence that my sanity, what was left of it that is, was wearing away.

I kicked the chair in frustration, startling Zack from sleep. He shot up, his deeply sleeping habits slowly fading away. I grimaced. "Sorry, Zack." I wasn't sure exactly when zoning out had turned to sleeping for him, but he had looked restful. I had made the connection that he was unconscious about forty-five minutes ago. Without even Zack to talk to, the last forty-five minutes had seemed like forty-five years.

"'S'Okay." He mumbled, rubbing his eyes, returning to sleepiness once his mind deduced that there was no immediate threat, other than a very high-strung granddaughter of Athena and Poseidon, and direct descendant of the Jackson and Chase family's. That may be a threat of it's own kind. "'Time's it?" Zack asked, his eyes only half open, adjusting to the midday sunlight.

I smiled. Despite how many times I hit him in the morning, to wake him up, Zack was kinda, dare I think it, cute in the morning. I think noticing things like this was another after-effect of the Breaking of The Walls, as I had come to mentally think of it as. When sleepy, Zack's voice was deeper, and slower, and slurred to the point where sleepiness could be mistaken for intoxication. As if Zack was hungover on sleep. His actions were slow, yet you could see his strength in his every movement. There was something in it that let you know, no matter his appearance now, if needed, he could be at your throat in the time it would take you to shout 'Boo!'

"Almost noon, praise Apollo." I answered, hoping the pause and smile wasn't noticeable, but relatively sure it was, to Zack at least. "Although, he could have been quicker." I added, because I'm me, and no moment can be perfect, at least while I'm around.

He nodded, still tired. I could barely contain my smile as I sat down next to him, crossing my legs on the seat.

He stared at me. "What're you happy 'bout?"

The smile grew. Did he know how attractive he sounded in the morning? I doubted it. "Nothing." I said unconvincingly.

"Sure doesn't look like nothin'."

I shrugged. "I'm just in a good place." I quoted him.

He chuckled, catching that. "Oh? Why is that?"

My face blushed, for the gazillionth time today it seemed, and I looked down. Was blushing another effect of the Breaking of The Walls? Gods, I hoped not.

Zack put two fingers beneath my chin and lifted my eyes to meet his captivating ones. A blue whirlpool that caught you and didn't let you go until you were drowning in them.

I swallowed.

"Silena?" He whispered.

I laughed nervously. "You're cute when you're tired." I admitted, rather reluctantly.

His head tipped to the side. "I'm cute when I'm tired?"

"Um..." I tried to look away, but couldn't. Without the walls, I hadn't the strength, or the desire, really. "Yeah." I squeaked.

He smiled, genuinely. Then kissed me quickly, knowing I wasn't a PDA person, under my left ear, at the base of my jawline. "You're cute when you're tired too."

I laughed. "Oh? And why is that?"

"For starters, you tend to talk less. And you aren't threatening to kill anyone. And you're not as self-conscious." I opened my mouth to retort, but he just trudged on.

"On the other hand," he continued. "I love almost everything that comes out of your mouth, because, if you listen carefully, you can hear what you think, and what you think is raw, and real, and beautiful. When you threaten to kill someone, well, you're either showing affection...or threatening to kill them." He gave me a crooked smile and I returned it, loving the way his soft morning voice sounded so filled with affection.

"When you threaten to kill me, I know it's your odd way of saying I love you." We both laughed, it was a lovely, harmonious sound. Like a soprano had finally found her partnering bass in a musical piece. It sounded whole, a concept scarcely used in my life unless it's to say 'a whole lot of crazy' or 'a whole lot of danger'. "When you threaten others," he said, "I know it's your way of showing your immense bravery and strength."

He pecked right between my eyes with his lips. The red didn't fade, but I don't think my face could brighten any more. Affection was an oddity in my life, one I was pleasantly going to have to get used to. "And your self-conscious tendencies are so human, so pure," I choked back emotions at the word 'pure' a word never before used to describe me, at least to my face, "that it makes me love you all over again. I continuously think I can't possibly fall any farther, and you continuously prove me wrong."

"I bet I'm pushing you off a cliff." I said. Again, no moment can be perfect when I am around.

Zack laughed. "Oh, you're pushing me of something. Be it a cliff, or sanity...I don't know."

"I think it's both."

He paused, and then nodded. "Definitely both." He looked in my eyes again. "You're turn."

"What?"

"What do you love about me?" This was not narcissism on his part. This was him trying to help me understand it.

"I'm not good with words."

"I know," he said. "But I'm good with understanding you."

I paused. "Okay. Well, for starters, you understand me more than I do. You see...I don't know. Something I don't when I look in a mirror, and you're desperately trying to share that image with me, even though I have told you countless times I don't see it or understand it." I swallowed. Zack tucked hair behind my ear for me, as if he could take the nervousness away.

"You fight for me. I don't get, I'm not even sure I like it. You risk yourself for me, even when I tell you not to. I don't like it, I hate it in fact, but yet...I love the loyalty in it. I think because I envy it. Because I know that's who I should be. That's who my father was."

Zack opened his mouth, but I wasn't down. This had become a self exploration, because Zack was every much as a part of me as I was. I had a lot of mapping to do, a lot of journeying. The road might be awful, but the treasure was sure to be great. It had to be.

"You've seen the very worst things I've ever done. The things that have lead me to near insomnia, and still you stay, still you claim devotion to me. Another thing I don't understand, but I love in you." I grasped for more words, more ways I could explain it, but I had not an inch poetism in me.

"I don't understand you. You confuse me. You irritate me. Some days I do want to kill you. Gods know I wanted to when I first met you. But..." I looked him in his whirlpool eyes and felt the dizzying, pleasant sensation of drowning. "I don't know. It's something else now. It's distracting and painful, and focusing and lovely. It's a world I've never ventured into, and it's one your guiding me through."

Minutes once again morphed into eternities, although I didn't feel like a prisoner this time, and we stared into each other's eyes. I wondered what he saw in my own.

"Five minutes!" I heard Alexa call. "Then we're taking a forty-five minute break. No longer!"

Five minutes could take five years for all I cared. I was fine where I was.