CHAPTER ONE - A PROLOGUE OF SORTS

It was a bad day.

I flunked my math final, which meant I failed the class, which meant that I have a failing grade on my college transcripts. It was unlike me to lose focus during the test, but my mind kept wandering. When I got back to my apartment, I checked my grade on the college's website and BAM: a big, bold 52% was staring me in the face.

I had to pass this course. I needed to get into University. If I didn't, then I'd be a failure, and how exactly am I going to become a world renowned astrophysicist if I can't even pass trigonometry?

With a sigh, I threw my backpack on the floor of my bedroom, hearing my books bang against one another.

I needed to shoot something.

I grabbed my compound bow and my quiver of arrows and drove to the nearest archery range. With every bullseye, I just got angrier. All I could see was the sympathetic look on my professor's face as I turned in my final, like he knew that I was distracted and he knew that I wouldn't be advancing to calculus next semester.

I kept shooting until the sun went down and the range closed. When I got home, I didn't feel any better. My fingers were numb, my bow arm couldn't bend all the way, and I had a knot in my shoulders from the tension. I knew that only a handful of things could relax me in the ways I needed to be relaxed. Calling my older sister was one of them, but I just couldn't bring myself to admit that I had failed basic trigonometry, especially to her, the math whiz of the family. That only left one other option.

I turned on my stove and set a kettle over the flame. Grabbing the biggest mug I could find, I scrounged for the last two remaining tea bags of the box.

I trudged to my room and carefully set the steaming cup of tea on my nightstand, and then turned towards my bookshelf. I had a lot of books, all overlapping each other and thrown haphazardly around my room, but only one could really make me feel better. I spotted the dark green spine peeking out from behind my "Astronomy for Dummies" book.

Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Lightning Thief.

I'd had this book since I was twelve. I'd read it so much that the spine is worn to the point of me having to tape it together in some places. I'd known that I should've gotten a new copy (probably a whole new set of the series, since the rest of the books were in just as bad of shape) but I couldn't bring myself to part with it. It was the one book that I could always escape into, even just for a little while.

I curled up on my bed and opened to the first chapter. For some reason, I decided to read aloud. Maybe because I needed the comfort of a voice, even if it was my own.

"I Accidentally Vaporize my Pre-Algebra Teach –"

Before I could finish the sentence, a bright light coming from my window blinded me. I felt my stomach turn upside down, and then everything went black.

*

My eyes flew open and I lurched forward, sure that I was going to be sick. Instead of doubling over in my bed, my head hit the back of a cracked leather seat.

"Whoa, are you okay?"

I jumped at the voice. I turned towards my left and saw two kids sitting next to me. One had black hair that hung in his eyes, which were a startling green. The other boy had curly brown hair, and a wispy goatee. The boy with the black hair was holding my shoulders, concern laced in his eyes. The curly-haired boy's face looked upset, but his eyes betrayed him. His dark brown eyes were full of suspicion, like I didn't belong. I had never seen them before, and yet they looked strangely familiar.

"Wha..."

Utterly bewildered, I took in my surroundings. I definitely wasn't in my apartment anymore. Instead, I was on a school bus. There were about thirty or so kids, all looking around twelve or thirteen. The boys were throwing balled up pieces of notebook paper at each other, and the girls sneered at them, their faces contorted with revulsion.

"How did I...?" I stopped myself. My voice sounded higher than usual. I looked down at my clothes. They seemed normal enough, blue jeans and a white singlet, a gray cardigan covering my shoulders. My wrists were adorned with brightly colored bracelets, bracelets that I hadn't even seen since...since...

I reached for something, anything with a reflective surface. The curly-haired boy had a binder with a metal coating on the front. I snatched it out of his hands and held it up close to my face, which was now babyish, my cheeks round and flushed. My hair looked like its natural shade of brown, not like the dark red I've been dyeing it as for years. The image was distorted, but I knew that this wasn't me. Not the twenty-year-old me, anyway.

"Avalon, are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost." My head snapped towards the black-haired boy, who had just spoken. My mouth opened to respond, yet I couldn't find the words.

I was twelve again. The last time I had had brown hair was when I was twelve. I slumped down in my seat, my head filled with a thousand and one questions. But before I say a word, something flew past my line of vision and smacked the curly-haired boy in the back of the head.

"I'm going to kill her," the black haired boy mumbled. It was almost if a jolt of electricity went down my spine. I know this. Where do I know it from?

"It's okay. I like peanut butter."

My mind was reeling. It couldn't be...but it is. I knew exactly where I was. I had no idea why I was, or how I got here, but the story came flooding back to me: and I felt as if I had walked into the middle of a battlefield.

The curly-haired boy dodged a second piece of sandwich, which I tracked back to a bulky girl with bright orange hair. Now I knew that I knew where I was. The girl just confirmed it for me. No, not just a girl...Nancy Bobofit.

"That's it." The other boy started rising from his seat, but I pulled him down, and used the words that I have read a hundred times.

"You're already on probation. You know who'll get blamed if anything happens," I said, staring at the two of them, two of the heroes of my favorite story. Curly-Hair stared at me, his eyes wide with surprise, as if I had just taken the words right out of his mouth. Which, of course, I had.

Black-Hair looked over at me. "Avalon, are you sure you're okay? You look like you're going to be sick."

I certainly felt like it. How could I possibly be here? It was like I got sucked into a parallel universe. One, unfortunately, I knew the ending of.

I took a deep breath. "I'm fine...Percy."

***