I knock on Kendra’s door.

“Be there in a minute!” her voice yells out.

Kendra opens the door

Hot. That’s how I can describe her. Even if she is in joggers, and a yoga shirt with her hair in a messy ponytail which is weird. I expected her to be as well dressed as she usually is at school.(Ps. this is the first time we’ve met outside of school. Usually we meet at lunch, but she has other duties to attend to now.)

“Hey,” I say smoothly like in a movie.

“Hi," she says twiddling the ring on her necklace.

I walk in. Whoa! Her house is cool. I mean the outside looked cool, but this- this is just awesome! There are two spinning cushion chairs that are occupied by two kids playing video games in front of a huge flatscreen. Anyways the ceiling is like twenty feet tall that has a chandelier hanging from it, and to my left there is a ginormous kitchen/dining room. And for as much junk food and snacks there are on the counter, I can’t believe that she has abs.

Keep it cool I tell myself, “So. This is your house.”

She nods after shutting the door.

“It’s pretty cool,” I say calmly. In my head I am screaming Dude! I didn’t know you had such a huge house! Can I play Call of Duty with your brothers? Do you have anything to eat it that huge kitchen?!

“Who are you?” one of the kids ask. He doesn’t even look away from the tv.

“I’m Carter.”

“And why are you here again?” the other one asks as he shoots at a zombie.

“Uhhh—”

Kendra cuts me off walking to the kitchen. “He’s here because I’m his tutor,” she says putting away some glasses. “You can go sit at the table if you want,” she says looking at me- with those fierce, powerful stormy eyes.

“Shoes off,” the boy with brown hair commands.

I take my shoes off, and put them in the closet that Kendra shows me. I set my bag down on one of the tall black chairs and dig out my textbooks.

Why! Why do my parents say I have to have a tutor? Why can’t mom just tutor me? I mean she is the daughter of Athena. But noooo! You have to be social, and at least try to make some friends. Ugh! At least my tutor is cool, and pretty. :}

“I just have to finish up these dishes and I’ll be right in,” she says softly.

I get up, and walk over to the bar, “Ummm. Do you want any help?”

“No, no, I’m fine.”

“Oh, um, ok. So uh what’s up?” I ask. Man I am such an idiot!

“Nothing,” she mumbles. “You want anything?”

In my head, Yeah. That bag of chips, that zebra cake. Ooh, would love to have some of those Cheetos Reality, “Uh yeah. Some water. That would be good. Oh, uh, please.”

She grabs the last two glasses in the strainer. She pours me a glass of water from a pitcher then hands it to me. I swish it around in a circle. She pours herself a glass of green Kool- Aid.

Dang. If I would have known there was Kool- Aid, I would be gulping down.

“You want some Kool- Aid? Don’t you?” she asks.

“No. No. I’m good with water,” I answer even though I'm dying for one.

“Here,” she hands me her glass, and takes mine. “You looked like you were about to drool.”

I drink half the glass. She looks at me weird.

“What? I don’t get stuff like this at home. My mom is one of those eat organic stuff people,” I say slurping down the rest.

Since she is still in the kitchen, she pours me another glass.

“Well then. Shall we get start?” she asks.

“Uh. Yeah. Sure.”

“Let's go to the den. It's more quiet there.”

“Alright,” I say grabbing my bag.

I follow her down the hall. She stops in front of double glass doors. You know the ones that look like big windows.

“Nevermind,” she says.

She keeps walking, and stops at the end of the hall. I look in through the double doors, and see a middle aged woman with dark hair typing at a desk with papers scatter all around along with a few books from a huge wall of bookshelves.

Before Kendra knows I'm looking, I quickly walk down to the end of the hall. She unhooks a photo of herself on the beach that hangs on the wall to the left of her door. Behind it is a key.

“Shhh. Don't tell my brothers,” she whispers.

She unlocks the door then put the key back. She goes in first; I follow.

“Whoa!” I exclaim. “Your room is huge.”

She has a king sized bed, a flat screen, desktop computer, laptop, and she even has a weight lifting set. There are three bookshelves completely full of books. She has a window nook too. It’s like one that you can sit on. There are purple and blue beanbag chairs by her bed.

“Yeah. I guess,” she says quietly. “I don't use the electronics a lot, but the weight set is cool.”

“How can your mom afford all this?” I ask. Awwe man. That was rude. Now I’m ashamed.

She must have read my face because she says, “It’s okay. My mom didn’t actually pay for most of it. My dad did, well, I actually did.”

She slumps into the blue bean bag chair, and reaches for her backpack. She gets out her textbooks.

I walk over, and fall into the other bean bag.

“You paid for all this?” I say almost laughing because I mean this must have cost thousand and thousands of dollars. I mean the walls are painted perfectly white, the carpet feels really nice, there are steps down to the “workout room”, and I’m pretty sure it’s a walk in closet.

“Well directly, yes. Indirectly, no. Technically I bought it with my father’s money,” her voice chokes mentioning her father.

“He must be a bazillionaire! Is he an actor or something?”

She hesitates, “He’s dead.” She looks away blinking a few times.

Now I feel bad. I like this girl, and I’ve probably just blew my chances with her by mentioning probably her worst memory. Great. Just great!

“You ok? You wanna talk about it?” I ask. Probably the stupidest thing ever to say.

“I’m fine,” she says sternly. “Let’s just start. What do you want to work on first?”

I stare for a moment. She has a single tear running down her cheek, and the skin around her eyes are a little red.

“Uhh. Well. I’m having trouble in math. So um let’s just start there.”

---

“So the answer is 2x^5,” I say confused.

“No, it would be 4x^11.”

“Uhh. Yeah. You’re right.” Man I feel like such an idiot. About earlier.

Crash!

We run to the kitchen to see that broken glass has gone everywhere.

Her little brother with blond hair broke a plate, and has cut his hand.

She step over the broken glass, and gets a towel from a towel.

“How did this happen?” she asks wrapping his hand in a towel.

He answers, “Well. I was getting a plate out, and dropped it. Then I tried to pick up the pieces, and I cut myself.”

“Jack!” she yells. The brown haired kid, I guess is Jack. Well obviously it is. “Call mom, tell her to get some butterfly stitches while she is out.”

“Why don’t you do it?” he says like a punk.

“You know why, just go do it!”

Ok. That is weird. Why can’t she use a phone? Well, I guess she is dealing with his hand.

“Fine,” he says dissatisfied.

He goes to call their mom as Kendra starts cleaning up the glass with a broom.

“Hey, uh, I know how to clean cuts, and stuff. I could help if you want.”

I actually do know how, my dad’s friend Will taught me at camp.

“Yeah. That would be great. Ethan go with Carter,” she says looking down at him.

Ethan leads the way to the bathroom. I'm not surprised that the bathroom is huge too.

“Where do you keep your medical stuff?” I ask.

He points to a small closet. I get the supplies I need, and start on the kids’ cut.

I take the towel off; It’s about an inch long across his thumb. I pour some rubbing alcohol over it.

“Owwww!” he screams.

“It doesn't hurt that much,” I say with tease.

I then wash it with water then put some more alcohol on it. He flinches. I dab it with a dry cloth then put some neosporin on it. I unwrap a big bandage, and place it over the cut.

“Done,” I say.

Ethan starts to walk away.

“Your welcome,” I say sarcastically.

He keeps walking.

I walk back to the kitchen to find that Kendra has cleaned up everything, and is eating some grapes.

“Are you going to be staying for dinner because I need to know how much to make,” she sighs.

“Uh, no, I don’t think so. What time is it?”

“I don’t know. Look at the clock!” she says sarcastically. “I’m sorry, just today has been stressful.”

“Oh,” I murmur. “That was probably my fault. I’m sorry.”

She doesn’t answer.

“It’s 5:45,” Jack shouts from wherever.

“Oh, well, my parents will be here is about fifteen minutes anyways. Where do you want to meet next?”

She shrugs.

“Do you wanna meet at my house?” I ask.

“Sure,” she says. “I don’t care.”

I look down, and walk back to her room to get my things. I grab my bag, and start packing in my things.

I look up where I see pictures. Pictures of a man and a baby. He looks a lot like Kendra. Oh! (It hits me.) The man is Kendra’s dad. I take one off the book shelf, and look at it. The baby is definitely Kendra; her eyes are real blue, but kind of stormy grey. The man has to be her dad, her hair color is the same: auburn with light streaks. But- but there is a woman in the back in a hospital bed. Her mom, but clearly it isn’t her mom. This person has clearly blonde hair, and pale skin.

“What do you think you are doing?” someone interrupts. I know it is isn't Kendra’s since it’s a guys voice.

I put the photo back, “Nothing. Just getting my stuff.”

I turn around to find Jack standing in the doorway. I walk down the hallway, and into the living room/dining room combination thing.

Kendra looks like she is making some kind of chicken with some sauce? I don’t know. At home, we’ll probably have cooked peppers, and chicken or something. Whatever.

Knock! Knock!

Guess they are here early.

I throw on my shoes, and open the door. My dad and mom are at the door. Oh great! Now they’re going to want to meet her.

I turn around to say goodbye, “Thanks Kendra. See ya later.”

I try to walk out the door, but my parents ask if they can meet Kendra.

“Well, she is cooking right now so.”

“It’s fine, I’m almost ready to put it in the oven,” Kendra shouts from the kitchen.

My parents shuffle in.

“I’ll be in, in a moment.”

“How did it go?” my mom asks.

“I’ll talk to you in the car,” I mumble.

“That bad?” Dad whispers.

Thank Gods! Kendra walks in, “Sorry, I was just making dinner.”

“It’s all good,” my dad says putting his hand out for a fist bump. “I’m Percy. Percy Jackson. You can call me Mr. J though.”

Kendra puts her hand out for a shake. My dad switch his hand to shake.

“I’m Annabeth Jackson. Call me Mrs. J.,” my mom laughs putting her hand out for a shake.

Kendra shakes it.

“So how is everything going?” my mom asks dropping her hand into my dad’s.

“He coming along slowly. He’s making a little progress,” she answers.

“Good. Good,” my dad says.

I feel like I’m at a parent teacher conference. I tune out the rest of the conversation by watching the tv show they have on the tv.

“Time to go. You ready?” dad asks shoving me playfully.

“Uh yeah. I turn around to say goodbye, but Kendra is gone.

We let ourselves out.

“What did you do?” my mom shouts sorta playfully.

“Let's just go home,” I grunt.

“Yeah right. If your mom lets you off of this one, you’re gonna be lucky!” dad whispers in my ear.

We get in the car, and start driving down the road.

“So what did you do?” dad asks.

“I don't want to talk about it.”

He shoots me one if those looks like, You better or your mom won't be happy.

I sigh, “Ugh. Fine. We went to her room, and it was huge. It had like walk in closet, master bathroom, weight room thing, she had like three tall huge bookshelves, and like everything. I asked how her mom could afford that. She said she couldn't. She said her dad paid for it then she said she paid for it. It was super confusing. Then she said that she paid for it dad’s money. I said he must be a bazillionaire, and asked if he was an actor or something.”

“Well she sounds like a rich kid,” my mom says.

“Hold on there is more,” I say quickly. “She said her dad is dead. I sorta ruined the night. And I'm pretty sure she is adopted.”

“What makes you say that?” dad asks.

“Well, the pictures on the walls speak for themselves. Most of the pictures had a man holding a baby with a woman in the back. The woman that I saw in the den, her ‘mom’, defiantly wasn't the woman I saw in the picture.”

“So you basically brought back her worst memory,” dad says.

I lay back in my seat and look out the window, “Thanks for reminding me.”

“I now see why she was so confined,” my mom says. She keeps talking, but I ignore her.

“Thanks so much for pointing out the obvious,” I say sarcastically.

“Hey!” my dad raises his voice. “Don’t talk to your mom that way!”

He slips his hand into hers.

“Only I can do that,” he laughs.

I smile. My dad can turn anything into a joke.

We get inside, and I find that dinner is ready. And it isn’t vegetables. It’s Pizza!

I go to grab a piece. Two actually, or maybe three. Hehe.

Notes

HIII!

Kendra's Outfit
http://www.polyvore.com/kendra/set?id=190509037