Half-Blood High

Words Don't Hurt Me

Clarisse POV

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As a child of Ares, I'm trained to know how to deal with every form of war and learn how to fight with every weapon.

What they don't teach you in Ares cabin is how to deal with the greatest weapon of all: words.

The texts came after school.

I was walking out with Chris Rodriguez, his arm around my shoulder. I felt like a normal girl for once, not a girl that was supposed to cover up her weaknesses.

Suddenly, the demigod-friendly cell phone Leo created for us going to BAG made a noise; I got a text.

"Who's this, Risse? You texting some other guy?" Chris teased.

"Shut up," I said playfully. I checked the message. Confusion fogged up my brain as I read each word:

Go back to the military.

"What is it?" Chris asked.

"Nothing," I said, shoving my phone back into my pocket.

"Come on," Chris said, "I know you better than you think."

"It's nothing," I said, a bit more forcefully.

My phone made a noise again.

No one likes you.

I growled and shoved my phone in my back pocket.

"What's going on?" Chris asked.

I growled again. "Let's just get back to camp."

We got back to camp. Chris kissed me on the cheek as I entered my cabin.

I got another text.

You're ugly and stupid.

My heart clenched. This shouldn't have hurt me. I wasn't usually the victim.

I stormed up to the Big House to talk to Chiron.

"Ah, Miss La Rue," Chiron said casually when I walked through the door, "How are you? Has school been going well?"

"Um, well..." I began.

"Is something troubling you?" He asked. "You aren't usually brought down."

He was right. I wasn't usually brought down.

"Uh, never mind," I said, "It's nothing, really. I'll just go now."

I exited the Big House and went to the arena to blow off some steam.

I took out my electric spear and stabbed the nearest dummy.

"Stupid...text...messages," I muttered with each stab, "Won't...bring...me...down..."

But I was wrong.

When I woke up the next day, I got another text.

Why are you still alive?

That was it. I wasn't gonna put up with this Minotaur crap anymore.

But who was I gonna tell? I wasn't a coward. Telling someone instead of fighting my own battles was not in the nature of an Ares kid.

Chris walked with me to BAG. "So, those text messages..." He began.

"What about them?" I snapped.

"Who are they from?" Chris asked. He sounded a little forlorn.

"They're not from a guy," I clarified.

"Oh," Chris said. "Then who are they from and what do they say?"