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Chiron and I were taking a tour of Camp Halfblood.

Chiron said, "The woods are stocked, if you care to try your luck, but go armed."
"Stocked with what?" I asked. "Armed with what?"
"You'll see. Capture the Flag is Friday night. Do you have your own sword and shield?"
"My own—?"
"No," Chiron said. "I don't suppose you do. I think a size five will do. We'll visit the armory later and see Y/N."

I wanted to ask what kind of summer camp had an armory, and who Y/N was, but there was too much else to think about, so the tour continued. We saw the archery range, the canoeing lake, the stables (which Chiron didn't seem to like very much), the javelin range, the sing-along amphitheater, and the arena where Chiron said they held sword and spear fights.

There was currently a girl in there practicing with a dummy.
"Sword and spear fights?" I asked.
"Cabin challenges and all that," he explained. "Not lethal. Usually."

"If it's only used for sword and spear fights, why is someone training in there?"
I asked.

Chiron sighed.
"Usually it is reserved only for official fights, but Y/N... she struggles."
I took a closer look at the girl in the arena. I assume that's Y/N, then.
She's got H/L, H/C hair, S/C skin and she's wearing virtually the same thing everyone else is; an orange t-shirt and combat pants.

The only addition being a blue hoodie.
Jeez. she's scarily good with that sword.

"Oh, yes, and there's the mess hall."


I was talking with Grover by the lake when
a husky voice yelled,

"Well! A newbie!" I looked over. The big girl from the ugly red cabin was sauntering toward us. She had three other girls behind her, all big and ugly and mean-looking like her, all wearing camo jackets.

Grover started quaking. I get the feeling that this is not going to go well.

"Clarisse," someone sighed.

I looked to the left to see the H/C-haired girl from earlier, Y/N, one arm crossed over her chest and the other close to her face, her thumb on one side of the bridge of her nose and pointer finger on the other. "Why don't you go polish your spear or something?"

"Sure, Miss fragile," the big girl said. "So I can run you through with it Friday night."
''Erre es korakas!" Y/N said, which I somehow understood was Greek for 'Go to the crows!'
though I had a feeling it was a worse curse than it sounded.

"We're supposed to be on the same team."

"I. Don't. Care. We'll pulverize you anyway," Clarisse said, but her eye twitched. Perhaps she wasn't sure she could follow through on the threat. She turned toward me. "Who's this little runt?"

"Percy Jackson," Grover stuttered, "meet Clarisse, Daughter of Ares."

I blinked. "Like... the war god?"

Clarisse sneered. "You got a problem with that?"
"No," I said, recovering my wits. "It explains the bad smell."

Y/N snickered.

Clarisse growled. "We got an initiation ceremony for newbies, Prissy."

"Percy."

"Whatever. Come on, I'll show you."
"Clarisse—" Grover tried to say.
"Stay out of it, goat boy."

Grover looked pained, but he did stay out of it, and I didn't really want his help. I was the new kid. I had to earn my own rep.

I handed Grover my minotaur horn and got ready to fight, but before I knew it, Clarisse had me by the neck and was dragging me toward a cinder-block building that I knew immediately was the bathroom.

I was kicking and punching. I'd been in plenty of fights before, but this big girl Clarisse had hands like iron. She dragged me into the girls' bathroom. There was a line of toilets on one side and a line of shower stalls down the other. It smelled just like any public bathroom, and I was thinking—as much as I could think with Clarisse ripping my hair out—that if this place belonged to the gods, they should've been able to afford classier johns.

Clarisse's friends were all laughing, and I was trying to find the strength I'd used to fight the Minotaur, but it just wasn't there.

"Like he's 'Big Three' material," Clarisse said as she pushed me toward one of the toilets. "Yeah, right. Minotaur probably fell over laughing, he was so stupid looking."
Her friends snickered.

Y/N and Grover stood in the corner, Grover watching through his fingers and the girl rolling her eyes.
"He's closer to Big Three material than you, Clarisse."

Clarisse tensed for a moment, before ignoring her.

She bent me over on my knees and started pushing my head toward the toilet bowl. It reeked like rusted pipes and, well, like what goes into toilets.

I strained to keep my head up. I was looking at the scummy water, thinking, I will not go into that. I won't.

Then something happened. I felt a tug in the pit of my stomach. I heard the plumbing rumble, the pipes shudder.

Clarisse's grip on my hair loosened. Water shot out of the toilet, making an arc straight over my head, and the next thing I knew, I was sprawled on the bathroom tiles with Clarisse screaming behind me.

I turned just as water blasted out of the toilet again, hitting Clarisse straight in the face so hard it pushed her down onto her butt. The water stayed on her like the spray from a fire hose, pushing her backward
into a shower stall.

She struggled, gasping, and her friends started coming toward her. But then the other toilets exploded, too, and six more streams of toilet water blasted them back. The showers acted up, too, and together all the fixtures sprayed the camouflage girls right out of the bathroom, spinning them around like pieces of garbage being washed away.

As soon as they were out the door, I felt the tug in my gut lessen, and the water shut off as quickly as it had started.
The entire bathroom was flooded.

Y/N and Grover hadn't been spared. They were dripping wet, but hadn't
been pushed out the door.
Grover was standing in exactly the same place, staring at me in shock, but Y/N was laughing hysterically.

I looked down and realized I was sitting in the only dry spot in the whole room. There was a circle of dry floor around me. I didn't have one drop of water on my clothes. Nothing.
I stood up, my legs shaky.
Grover said, "How did you ..."

"I don't know."

We both looked at Y/N who was still laughing hysterically.
She slowed down and eventually stopped, wiping imaginary tears away from her eyes, still grinning.

"That was GOLDEN! And, just so you're aware- incredibly well-earned. I'm liking you already, Jackson."
She said, looking at me.

I smiled slightly "Thanks... I think?"
I was mostly just glad that she wasn't mad about being soaked.
We all walked to the door. Outside, Clarisse and her friends were sprawled in the mud, and a bunch of other campers had gathered around to gawk.

Clarisse's hair was flattened across her face.
Her camouflage jacket was sopping and she smelled like sewage. She gave me a look of absolute hatred.
"You are dead, new boy. You are totally dead."
I probably should have let it go, but I said, "You want to gargle with toilet water again, Clarisse? Close your mouth."
Her friends had to hold her back. They dragged her toward cabin five, while the other campers made way to avoid her flailing feet.

Y/N stared at me.
"What?" I demanded. "What are you thinking?"
"I'm thinking," she said, grinning. "That I want you on my team for capture the flag."

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