Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own the PJ or HoO series by Rick Riodan

Today, my brother, John, and his fiancée, Callie, are getting married. Everything was just as perfect as it could be! Callie was getting her hair and makeup done while John was getting pictures made with his groomsmen. The decorations were all done and perfectly pink and green. Everybody was happy and excited for the young couple! Everybody except me, John's younger sister.

Let me introduce myself. I'm Kyra Hale. I basically look like my mom when she was a teenager; green eyes, chocolaty brown hair, and tan skin. I live on the outer edge of Baltimore, Maryland in a big, red brick, two-story house with my mom and stepfather. I'm almost fifteen and my life pretty much sucks.

The only things that are actually good about it are my pottery classes (that are in the better part of downtown Baltimore), my best friend Mo (who takes pottery class with me), and my pottery teacher Anne-Marie. My mom, Michelle, can be okay most of the time, but she tends to get on my nerves and hurts my feelings without meaning to every once and a while.

She has dark brown hair and green eyes and perfect skin, like me. She's a stay at home mom since Lucas, my stepfather, hauls it in working as a neurosurgeon at the Baltimore Hospital. Lucas is a good guy, I guess. He has blonde hair, blue eyes, and fare skin.

We don't talk that much, but he's a good guy and he's good to my mom and I. There's also my older brother John. He's very tall and has fare skin and freckles, dark auburn hair, and eyes you can never really tell the color of. He's a PTA at the Baltimore Hospital.

He was the best person ever until Callie came into his life. She basically brain washed him into liking her with her big boobs (which I'm pretty sure she had work on) and her sickly sweet and innocent voice. But when John is out of hearing range she turns into the evil bitch that she truly is. I guess you can tell I don't like her.

I'm not in the wedding, as you would think, or even in nice clothes for the wedding. Nope. I'm wearing ripped, faded, skinny, blue jeans with my favorite, blue, vintage tee from Old Navy and my classic hi-top converse. I was walking around the church feeling incredibly out of place and not knowing what to do when somebody called my name. I looked over my shoulder and saw my mom.

My mother came up to me and shouted, "Kyra! I thought you said you brought nice clothes to wear!"

"These are nice clothes." I retorted.

"You should know better. They may be nice clothes to wear to around town or to the mall, but not to your brother's wedding." she scolded.

"I guess I'll just have to hide in a closet until the wedding is over so my family won't be embarrassed by me." I exploded, feeling slightly hurt by her harsh tone.

"I didn't say you needed to hide in a closet or that the family would be embarrassed by you." she says, exasperated.

"Really? Because you definitely made it sound like that!" I yell, fighting off angry tears.

"I-never mind. There's no use in fighting about it. I had a feeling you'd do this so I brought a dress for you. Why don't you go into the sanctuary and see if the rose petals are all scattered evenly." she suggested.

"Okay, I get it. I'm not wanted right now. I'll go hide in that closet I was talking about." I say, dejectedly, feeling the tears threatening to spill.

I went into the sanctuary, but I didn't make sure the rose petals were "scattered evenly". No, I went straight to the floral closet, put in my earbuds and listened to Green Day while the hot tears slid down my cheeks.

'My life sucks. Everybody hates me just because I want to be a little different.' I think.

The closet light flickers on. I quickly wipe away the tears and look up to see a teenage guy around my age. Maybe a little older than me even.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to intrude." he apologizes.

"No problem. I was just trying to get away from all the craziness." I assure him.

"Oh, okay. Well, do you know where I can find Kyra Hale?" he asks.

I sigh. 'What did I do now? Is it suddenly a crime to cry in the dark? And how does this guy know my name?' I think.

"I'm Nico di Angelo." he says, sensing that I was suspicious.

I studied him more closely now. He has shaggy, black hair, dark brown eyes, and pale olive skin. He's wearing black, ripped skinny jeans, a black tee shirt with a skull on it, an old aviator's jacket, black Converse hi-tops, and a silver skull ring. I find him dark and sort of scary, but kind of intriguing and mysterious at the same time. I wanted to know more about this mysterious guy.

"I'm Kyra. What do you want?" I ask, suspiciously.

"Yes! I found you!" Nico whooped.

"What do you mean "found me"?" I ask, confused.

"Oh, yea. Sorry. Is your mom or dad around?" he asks.

"My mom is in the sanctuary doing last minute preparations." I tell him.

"Let's go find her. I need to speak with her." Nico says.

I led Nico to the sanctuary glancing at him out the corner of my eye every once in a while.

'Who is this guy? How the hell does he know my name? And why does he want to talk to my mom?' These questions floated through my mind while we walked to the sanctuary.

I walked in, with Nico, and found mom frantically placing rose petals.

"There you are!" she exclaims when she sees me.

"Hey mom. Um, this is Nico. He said he needs to talk to you." I say.

"Hello, Ms. Hale. I'm Nico di Angelo. Is there a more private place we can talk?" Nico asks.

"Um, sure." mom says, slightly confused.

At that moment Callie burst through the doors in a pink robe looking like an angry witch. Her face was all puffed up and red like she had been rubbing her face against a brick wall for an hour. Her hair was sticking out in all different directions like she had stuck her finger in a electrical outlet.

"I don't care what you said Ally! This is a disaster!" Callie rages.

"I don't know why your hair is sticking up or why you had an allergic reaction to the makeup. It's the same stuff you told me to use!" Ally defends herself.

Ally was Callie's older sister. They looked very similar, but Ally was prettier, in my opinion, and she was a lot nicer.

Then they walk out as quickly as they had come in. As if they just wanted somebody to hear them.

A/N:

Re-editing because I was looking over this story the other day and thought to myself, "God. That's terrible. There are SO MANY mistakes. I need to change that and that and that..." I think you get the point.

XOXO,

Mrs-diAngelo25