Need, again, another title :)

NOTE:

THIS IS AN ORIGINAL WORK THAT IS DONE BY ME. ALL SUBJECTS, PLACES, OR SCENARIOS MAY NOT BE COPIED WITHOUT THE PERMISSION OF THE AUTHOR.


Preface

Their hands clasped together, and he looked down in her starry eyes, as deep as the heavens themselves. The wind was blowing her almost-white blonde hair every which way, and they stood together there on the sand.
“I don’t want to leave you, Liam.” She said.
“I know you must.” He said. Their tears mixed, and it seemed as if the stars were also mourning.
“When can we meet again?” He asked.
“I don’t know.” She leaned into him, her white sheath dress blowing with the wind. He wrapped his arms around her, as if they would keep her with him. She looked down at her stomach, a slight bulge protruding out.
“What will we name him?” She asked.
“If a boy, Orion; after our favorite constellation. If a girl, Diana, after the most beautiful woman on earth.” He held her closer. “Oh Diana, don’t leave me. Please don’t.” He pleaded.
“Please.” She angrily swiped at a tear falling down her pale face. “You know I can’t control destiny.”
“At least tell me when I can see you again.” He begged her.
“I can’t.” She slipped a thin silver chain into his hands, and kissed him tenderly. “But as long as you keep this, I’ll always be with you.” One last tear slipped from her eye, sparkling like a diamond, and blended with his as she leaned against him. And like that, she vanished into the moonlight.
He looked down at his hands, and saw a thin silver necklace with a small silver arrowhead. He walked back to his boat, sobbing all the way.


Chapter One

Or so I like to believe. As far as I know, I could be the daughter of a Russian ballet dancer or an Arab sheik. I’ve been in New York foster care since my mother died when I was born; I never knew my father. I dream about him and my mother, but only have pictures of them to fill my solace. I lived with my Uncle Orion after my mother died in labor, and he named me after her. I like to think that my mother and my father, who I have never met, were distant and forbidden lovers, blessed by the gods, cursed by the mortals. But I live in present-day America. No way does that happen today. I live with Karen Brooks, an ok person who tries, but doesn’t really get and A or a C. More like a B, sometimes a ‘plus’ and sometimes a ‘minus’.
“Diana! Hurry up! You’ll be late for school!” Karen yelled up a narrow stairway. I got up from my bed and walked over to my closet. I pulled out a dark blue camisole and some light denim jeans, and threw on a black cardigan. I tied a silver chain around my neck, displaying a small silver arrowhead. It was a family memoir, or something like that, but I just think its cool. Not to mention that it’s pure sterling silver with a small diamond in the arrowhead. I put my black Uggs on and grabbed my purse and backpack.
“Bye Karen.” I waved at a woman hunched over a newspaper.
“You be home for supper, ok?” She said. I nodded a ‘yes’ as I stepped outside.

I looked around at our meager home. Karen and I live in Manhattan, in a neighborhood of apartments. I hopped on my bike and pedaled quickly, taking a deep breath. I hate foster care. I mean, Karen can be nice, but she just doesn’t know how to raise a child who’s lost her parents. She’s in her mid-thirties, and she used to live in Delaware with her parents, but moved here. She tries to be nice, but she just doesn’t get it. When I moved in with her when I was thirteen, she just stayed out of my way like a tiny little hamster. After we warmed up a little bit, we would watch TV together, and yell at the people on Judge Judy. We’re ok friends now

As I got to school, I locked my bike on the bike rack. I pushed her cardigan back on my shoulders, and hugged my purse to my stomach. My boots made a trail to the doors. It was November, but it had already snowed a deep snow.
I pushed the doors open, and trudged to my locker. I pushed my blonde hair out of my face, and shoved my bag inside.
“Hey Jake!” I ran up to a boy with brown hair. 
“Oh, hey Di!” He grinned, his green eyes dancing. “What’s up?” He opened his locker and grabbed a folder.
“Not much.” I peered at his folder. “Still working on college resumes?”
“Yeah. I’m bringing them over to Ms. Mitchell so she can help me on them.” 
“Need me to be a reference?” I asked, grinning devilishly.
“Oh yeah. Those people at MIT really want references from fifteen year old girls who had me fix their computer when a Trojan got on it.” He grinned, and I shoved him playfully.
“Shut up. You are such a dork!” We laughed, and high-fived each other with the Vulcan sign. We laughed, but stopped as two girls walked up to us, or rather him.
“Hey Jake!” One of them cooed, and the other smiled a Hollywood smile.
“Oh, hey... Samantha and Carla?” He said awkwardly. I rolled my eyes. Samantha and Carla were the two queen bees of the school. They thought Jake was cute, but I never though anything of him other than him being like my big brother.
“What’s up?” One of them trilled.
“Him leaving you. Get a life, robots.” I pulled Jake away.
The two stood shocked as I walked away, pushing him ahead of me.
“I can’t stand them. They make me feel sick!” He said, imitating vomiting. I laughed.
“Hey, do you want to hunting this weekend or go to the shooting gallery?” I asked. Jake was my hunting buddy; his uncle had a ranch a few hours away in inland New York. Karen actually liked it when I went away on the weekends; it gave her more privacy to yell at the TV screen.
“Sure! I have a final to study for, I think, but it should work out.” Jake said. He was a senior, and was graduating next spring.
“Great! I have to go to classes. See you later!” I waved, and walked off to a classroom. Jake smiled and waved at me, then made his way to his classes.

I sat down, and opened my book. The teacher walked in, her frizzy hair piled on top of her head, glasses resting on top of it.
“All right class! Open up your books to page one-hundred and seventy five. We are studying Hermes today!” The teacher announced like she had just won the lottery as she set her piles of books on the table.
I flipped my book open. Good. Hermes. I thought to myself. I loved taking Mythology; I already knew most of the characters and settings, and it almost seemed like I was in the stories; fighting alongside Zeus or kidnapping Helen with Paris. I smiled as I read along with Mrs. Armstrong. I loved the classic love stories, the drama, and all the action.
“Class, describe who Hermes was in three sentences or less.” Mrs. Armstrong barked. I
raised my hand almost automatically. Mrs. Armstrong smiled a kind smile and nodded her head for me to go along. You could practically call me the teacher’s pet.
“The son of Zeus and Maia, the messenger of the gods, and god of merchants and thieves, Hermes was portrayed as a herald equipped for traveling, with broad-brimmed hat, winged shoes, and a winged rod. He is the Roman equivalent Mercury.” I smiled. Maybe I summed it up too much?
“Well done. Class, use Diana as an example. She actually studies for tests.” She glared at some jocks in the back, who rolled their eyes. I blushed as some kids laughed at me, and looked back down at my book, embarrassed.
Everyone made fun of me because I actually apply myself to my school and work, unlike the rest of them. I didn’t really fit into any clique, which just made things worse. I had fashion, like the Plastics; brains like the Geeks; I did a lot of sports like the Jocks; listened to heavy metal like the Goths; skated like the Skater Dudes; and played music like the Band Geeks. So I was pretty much in all of them, making me a freak. I still had friends, like Jake, but they were mostly seniors, and I was a junior, so it made it kind of awkward. There were one or two kids in my neighborhood, but they were all ghetto rapper-wanna-be’s.
I sighed as the bell rang, and left. I felt my stomach toss and turn as I remembered that I had a solo in chorus today. In front of the auditorium. With everyone watching.
Ughhh... I thought, and made my way to AP math. I was so dreading it.
I sat down at my desk, among other geeks and brainiacs in AP classes, and daydreamed as my teacher rambled on. When I daydreamed, I slipped into another world where miracles did happen, and love was not just a fantasy, but a reality. My dreams were a place where I was myself, and I had people who loved and cared about me.

It's supposed to be based off the Greek myth of Diana the Huntress, and the Roman goddess, Luna. They're some of my favorite mythology subjects, so go figure ;)

Only had time to read the intro its touching