chapter 1: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/1280971543/ chapter 2: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/1283711886/ chapter 3: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/1305583111/ chapter 4: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/1308079408/ chapter 5: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/1321671200/ part 1: Chapter 4: I Learn Why Sitting Alone Isn’t So Bad “So who's your godly parent then?” I said. “Oh my mom is aphrodite.” said Jack. “No wonder I fell in love so fast.” I mumbled. “WHAT?” he said. “ OH NOTHING!” I said as my face blushed. “ I thought I heard you say something.” Jack said. “Oh it's also time to go to the dining pavilion, let's go!” As I was walking with Jack I spotted the dining pavilion. It was a classic Greek style mess hall with tables arranged for the demigods separated by their parentage. There were plates and drink goblets that never emptied enchanted to serve whatever type of food and drink you wanted. Demigods were talking and laughing. “Where do I sit?” I asked Jack. “Oh!” He said. “Since you still haven't been claimed, you will sit at the Hermes table. But since Aphrodite's child I will sit at her table. Got it?” “Got it.” I said as I went up to sit at hermes table. As I slid onto the bench at the Hermes table, the chatter died down. A few campers gave me the kind of look you reserve for suspicious leftovers in the back of the fridge. One of the older kids raised an eyebrow. “Hey, new kid. Another unclaimed, huh? Don’t worry, you’ll get used to being ignored.” I tried to act cool, but my hands were shaking. I reached for my goblet, only to have someone nudge my elbow at the last second. Purple grape juice sloshed onto my shirt. Laughter exploded around me. “Smooth move, Atlas!” someone called. “Maybe your real power is spilling stuff.” I tried to laugh it off, but my face was burning. Another kid leaned in, smirking. “You know, most campers get claimed their first week. Maybe the gods forgot about you. Or maybe they just didn’t want you.” That one stung. I stared at my food, suddenly not hungry at all. All around me, the other campers went back to their conversations and inside jokes, leaving me to pick at my dinner in silence. Every now and then, I could feel someone watching me, probably waiting for me to mess up again. My face felt hot, and I wished I could disappear. Maybe they were right. Maybe I really didn’t belong here. For the rest of dinner, I kept my head down and barely said a word. The dining pavilion was full of light and laughter, but at the Hermes table, I’d never felt more alone. I couldn’t take it anymore. The minute dinner ended, I shoved back from the Hermes table, ignoring the snickers and whispers, and rushed for the restrooms behind the pavilion. My eyes burned, but I was determined not to cry, at least not where anyone could see me. Still, my chest felt tight, like I was being squeezed from the inside out. The bathroom was empty, thank the gods. I locked myself in the farthest stall and slid to the floor, pressing my back against the cold wall. My hands shook so badly I had to shove them under my legs to keep them still. My breath came in short, quick bursts, and I tried to slow it down, but the harder I tried, the worse it got. My heart hammered in my chest, loud and frantic, until I was sure it would burst. I buried my face in my knees, squeezing my eyes shut. The words from the dining pavilion kept echoing in my head: unclaimed, unwanted, invisible. I tried counting, breathing, anything to keep from completely losing it, but my thoughts spun out of control. Maybe there really was something wrong with me. Maybe my godly parent did not want anything to do with me. Maybe no one ever would.
part 2: After a while, the panic faded, leaving me shaky and exhausted. I wiped my eyes with the sleeve of my shirt, angry at myself for letting them get to me. The sounds of laughter drifted in from outside. I just pulled my knees tighter to my chest, wishing I could disappear or that someone, anyone, would come looking for me. The bathroom door creaked open. Footsteps echoed softly across the tiles. I held my breath, wanting to be invisible, but then I heard Jack’s voice. He sounded gentle, almost hesitant. “Atlas? Are you here?” I did not answer, but Jack did not leave. Instead, he slid down to sit on the floor outside the stalls. “You know, my first night here was pretty bad too,” he said. “I spilled soup all over myself, and the Hermes kids put blue dye in my pillowcase. I woke up looking like a Smurf.” A tiny laugh escaped me before I could help it. Jack kept talking, his voice calm and warm. “People can be mean, especially when they feel like they have to impress each other. You did not deserve what happened tonight. None of what they said was true.” I hesitated, then slowly unlocked the stall door. Jack was sitting there, knees pulled up, looking up at me with a small, encouraging smile. “Hey,” he said softly, “You do not have to talk if you do not want to. I just thought you might like some company.” We sat in silence for a moment, but it felt comfortable. Jack just waited, like he had nowhere else to be. After a while, he spoke again. “Camp gets easier. The first few days are tough, but it does not last forever. I think you are a lot braver than you realize. Most people would have run out of here by now.” I let out a shaky laugh. “I almost did.” Jack grinned, his eyes bright. “I actually did try to leave my first week. Chiron had to chase me down. Twice.” He nudged my shoe gently with his. “Tomorrow, let’s sit together. I will even bring extra napkins, just in case anything gets spilled.” This time, my smile was real, and for the first time since dinner, the tight feeling in my chest loosened a little. Things were still hard, but with Jack there, I did not feel quite so alone.
