Written for the Secret Santa competition at the Of Prompts and Challenges forum for Musafreen using her prompt, Percy Jackson dealing with superpowers in school. Enjoy, Musa!

I do not own PJO.

Misty Secrets


When the new boy is introduced, Eliza's heart does a quick tap-dance in her chest.

He's rather tall, with long straight black locks and startling green eyes that dart all around the classroom, focusing on everything but the people. An orange t-shirt proclaims CAMP HALF-BLOOD, and tied black sneakers and faded jeans complete the outfit.

In other words, he's totally amazing and Eliza wishes against wishes that he doesn't have a girlfriend. She'll already have to compete with about ten other girls, by the looks on her classmates' faces.

"This is Percy Jackson, class. He'll be joining us for this year. Percy, why don't you take a seat and we'll begin."

The boy, Percy, nods and looks for an empty seat, finally settling on the one farthest from the chalkboard.

He dumps his worn backpack on the floor and rummages inside for his books. Then he sits up and stares out the window.

Mrs. Kuviak begins to drone on about plant formations or some such. Eliza's mind begins to drift to the new guy. She can just imagine him kissing her, their hands intertwined, the jealous looks on Jasmine's face when she finds out…


At lunch, she marches right up to him and says, "Percy, would you like to sit with me? I usually have the whole table to myself, so it'd be nice to have some company."

He shifts, then says hesitantly, "I guess. Sure."

She puts on a suave front, but inside she's rejoicing. "Okay. I sit over here."

She leads him to the corner table, and they take seats. Her friends attempt to join her, but she flicks her hand and tilts her head at the new boy. They disperse with plenty of eye rolling.

She sits forward with her chin in her hand, watching him eating. The guy eats like a starving wolf. When he finally looks up, she attempts to make conversation.

"So, it must be tough to transfer school this late."

He shrugs. "I've transferred plenty of times before." Interesting.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"What do you like to do?"

"Um, I skateboard. And play basketball sometimes."

She bats her eyelashes. This is just getting better and better. "You must be really good at basketball."

"I'm okay, I guess." He's fidgeting uncomfortably with a golden ballpoint pen, looking everywhere but her.

"Well-" She's cut off by Percy jumping out of his seat, chair toppling to the floor with a loud crash. His eyes are wild, and he's holding…a ruler?

A boy walks up to him. He's about seventeen, a little overweight, short, with a pudgy nose and thick fingers. He sticks one of them into Percy's chest. "Son of Poseidon," he hisses. Percy blanches, casting a quick look at her, then whacks the ruler at the boy. It deflects (of course), and Percy tries again, this time landing two quick blows.

Then the sharp point of a giant pencil appears through the boy's stomach and he disappears. Eliza blinks, not quite sure of what she's seeing.

A girl steps through the ashes, blinking dust out of her eyes. She's Percy's age, with long golden curls, piercing grey eyes, and an angular face. She cocks her head at Percy. "Achilles Curse or not, I'm always going to save your butt, Percy."

He groans. "Thanks, Wise Girl."

Weird nicknames. And how did that guy just disasppear?

The cafeteria is silent. Everyone is watching the three of them. She musters up her courage, then stands. "Um, Percy, would you mind telling me what just went on there?"

The girl casts her a dark look. "Why were you sitting with my boyfriend?"

Shoot.

"I didn't know he was your boyfriend."

"Go dig a hole or something," the girl shoots back at her. "This is none of your business, and Percy we will be having words."

"She just asked me to sit with her. She said she was all alone."

The girl shakes her head and pulls him out of the cafeteria, muttering what sounded distinctly like, "gods of Olympus."

Eliza watches them leave. The lunch ladies are standing dumbstruck and the only sounds are the ones from the kitchen.

But, schools being what they are, the incident was almost forgotten by the end of lunch. Not though, by a certain Eliza Brown.


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