The Pain of a Pencil
Percy never liked art. He hated having to sit in those uncomfortable, brown plastic chairs whilst the teacher went through endless amounts of power-points depicting art techniques and facts about an artist that went in one ear and out the other. Not to mention the curly writing the teacher insisted on using which was murder to his dyslexic eyes.
It wasn't just the power-points Percy hated but also the classroom; how was an ADHD child expected to concentrate when the room was full to bursting of distractions? The back wall behind him was covered corner to corner with student art; the teachers switched the work around every term which also didn't help. The ceiling was also covered in art - little fish made out of card and tissue paper, Percy had been caught many times staring at the ceiling, he could've sworn the fish had been moving.
The worst was probably the art homework they got set every other week, it lined up so they would hand in their homework at the beginning of the lesson only to be set another huge piece at the end, unlike some students, Percy didn't have an endless supply of paint, pastels and Papier-mâché, not that his teachers ever believed him when he told them; their response was always the same:
"Just ask your mother to buy some or maybe you could borrow a friend's." Percy often had to shove his hands in his pockets and bit his tongue to stop himself from lashing out at Miss Fleming, his lovely art teacher. He would nod and smile because that's all he could do, how could he explain to a teacher that he couldn't ask his mum to spend precious money on art supplies when all their money was spent on the rent, food or Gabe's gambling? How could he explain that he didn't have any friends because no one wanted to be friends with the too skinny 12-year-old with more scars than any child should ever have?
Percy had no way of doing the homework so he had to put up with painful lunch times with Miss Fleming for the entire school year. Percy wasn't that good at art anyway, he could never focus his mind on particular details and when he was sketching he always pressed too hard or too soft, his people looked like mutated potatoes and no one needed to see his drawings of flowers.
Then they started painting with proper acrylic paints, Percy wasn't terrible with paint, at least compared with some of his classmates, he could focus better with paint and he loved the vibrant colours he could create by mixing colours together, endless shades of blue could be created and Percy fell in love with art for a term, especially when they had to draw fish for their winter-term assessment. Percy's managed to make the back wall, a thing he was stupidly proud of.
Then came the dreaded spring term when they did the most horrific art Percy had ever heard of – puppet making. Percy wasn't actually convinced that came under the topic of art, but whenever he voiced his opinion the whole class would snicker and Miss Fleming would tell him off for being 'too negative towards learning' it was strange how often teacher said that to him.
Percy was hopeless at sewing, he couldn't sew in a straight line and he barely had the patience to even attempt any of the advanced stitches his teacher had shown him, she seemed to think that after his sudden talent in art with paint that he was the next Da Vinci (yeah right).
Miss Fleming seemed to decide ,finally, that he was a lost cause and stopped giving him any extra attention and his fish painting was taken down and Percy was so angry at his own uselessness after school he grabbed his painting, went home and slashed the blasted thing to pieces with a kitchen knife, he stupidly managed to cut his arm open in the process, another scar to add the collection, his mum never mention the slashed up canvas that appeared in the bin, she only bandaged his arm and whisked him away to Montauk for the weekend.
The art lesson after they were allowed to use glue guns to attach small decorations, like sequins, to their puppets, another terrible idea in Percy's idea. He got another negativity lecture after he asked the teacher why they had wasted the last few lessons learning to sew evenly when they could have easily glued the pieces together. God, was he in trouble after he'd said that, in the end, he managed to convince his teacher he was only joking even though he most certainly wasn't.
Turns out Percy wasn't particular talented with a glue gun either and he could sort of see why the school didn't use them more often; the damn glue went everywhere. Percy decided that Miss Fleming had done this to get revenge on him after he managed to glue his hands together, not in the funny way children do, no he literally glued his hands together so much they had to pour some mixture on his hands to free them, now that was embarrassing.
They never used glue guns again.
The rest of term two came and went with nothing to report aside from the million detentions Percy ended up having not just for not doing his homework but for 'misusing school property' Percy thought this new development was absolute rubbish – "Miss the glue gun exploded! How is that my fault!?"- Not that anyone believed him, the teachers must've had a meeting where they decided that everything that ever went wrong in life was entirely Percy Jackson's fault - it was the only logical explanation after all. At one point Percy legitimately wrote a complaint, after screaming to his mother about the unfairness of it all, it only made it worse but at least he tried.
Percy had come to loath Miss Fleming almost as much as Gabe, and that's saying a lot, with her short blond hair and motherly smile Miss Fleming seemed like the devil herself.
Term three changed everything.
Percy walked into the classroom shoulders slumped in despair, not only was it art, his least favourite lesson, but it was a new term which meant a new seating plan. He looked up and met Miss Fleming's 'warm' brown eyes; to him, they looked like dark sewer water.
"Welcome back class" She greeted, Percy had heard the 'welcome back speech' so many times he could practically recite it from memory – "See miss! I do listen." - Percy zoned out and scanned the art equipment laid out on the table, long rectangular tins, huh. "Percy" Miss Fleming called shattering through his mind barrier and forcing his lips to curl into distaste.
"Yes, Miss?" He replied, ever the obedient student (hah).
"You're sitting over there, and please pay attention in the future." She pointed a manicured finger in the vague direction of his seat but Percy didn't need her to tell him where to sit – he already knew- Percy had always sat in the back corner, it was tradition and Percy liked his seat. Miss Fleming had the sense to not sit anyone next to him the past few years he'd had her as an art teacher. "Yes, Miss, whatever you say." He threw the words over his shoulder and the rest of the class snickered, very helpful.
"Mr Jackson..." uh oh, teachers only ever called him 'Mr Jackson' when he was in trouble (98% of the time, give or take).
"Sorry Miss." He turned to look at her and gave her his most apologetic smile, she didn't look impressed but turned away from him, and Percy sighed in relief.
"Grover Underwood, you're going to sit next to Percy." Oh that witch, Percy thought scowling at the table. Percy hadn't met Grover yet despite the new kid's insistence to sit with Percy for every single lesson. Grover had only joined the school five lessons prior to that art lesson but the kid already annoyed him. The boy clambered in his seat, and tried to shoot Percy a smile but Percy stared intently at the table and Grover awkwardly looked away smile fading, Percy didn't let himself feel guilty.
"Alright class, today I'm trying something different which I think you'll all enjoy," Percy snorted, disguising it as a cough when the class stared at him, they didn't look convinced but continued anyway and Percy smirked at the small victory. "Today we'll be using water colours to paint a sunset." Oh joy, Percy thought bitterly by the time the teachers let him near anything valuable like paint again it might well be sunset.
Turns out they had to copy a printout of a bright red, orange and yellow sunset with watercolours and that's it. Really, Percy frowned, this is her grand idea?
"Without further ado I'm going to let you crack on, I assume you remember where the paint brushes are kept?" Percy had no idea where the paintbrushes were kept, they could be on the moon for all he knew, but one look at Miss Flemings delicately raised eyebrow had him scraping his chair against the tiles floor with the rest of the class. It was pretty easy to figure out where the brushes were after the class gathered around them, he moved to go get one when Grover grabbed his arm.
"What?" he asked, well he snapped really but he didn't mean to; art had a nasty habit of putting him in a bad mood. Grover gulped.
"Can you get me a brush, please? I just…" he trailed off and gestured vaguely to his crutches that were perched against the table, Percy hadn't noticed them until then.
"Oh, sure man." He told the boy feeling oddly guilty, probably for snapping at him, he wasn't sure, though; guilt wasn't an emotion he was particularly familiar with.
He snatched his gaze away from the boy's brown eyes, they were much brighter than Miss Fleming's Percy noted. He walked to the sink and weaved his way through the crowds of gossiping girls. Honestly, it had been, like, two minutes since lunch what could've possibly happened since then which demanded and immediate discussion? Percy thought as he ducked under a girl flailing arms.
He returned to Grover victorious, with a pot of water in one hand and two paint brushes in the other, he even managed to get good ones this time, not the old ones that never ceased to give him splinters. Grover thanked him and Percy sat back down feeling oddly excited to start painting, he shook off the strange feeling and opened the red tin in front of him. His happy feeling disappeared quickly, not unlike a light bulb – glowing one minute and dead the next – inside the tin, the colours were old and so blended together they all looked the same colour – an ugly mix between dark green and black.
"Of course" he muttered, out of the corner of his eye he saw Grover had opened his paints, they were in relatively the same condition but the boy hardly seemed to notice, instead he stared at Percy, waiting. "What?" he asked, and he was happy to report that he sounded genuinely curious this time around, not moody like before.
"Nothing" Grover assured him smiling like a kid on Christmas, Percy narrowed his eyes at the boy but Grover didn't seem fazed, if anything, his grin and eyes widened. Percy huffed and turned away, people these days, god he sounded like an old man. Shutting his weird partner from his mind Percy wet his brush and picked a random colour out of his tin and glanced down at the plain piece of paper in front of him, then looked at the printing of the sunset.
Percy silently prayed that he'd chosen yellow and painted a circle on the mid bottom of his page, he didn't register the tug in his gut before he noticed the circle he'd painted was in fact a circle, a miracle in itself, and the fact the colour matched the picture exactly. He blinked and stared at the circle, then the muddy colour of his brush.
"What the?" He asked himself, before snapping his gaze to Grover, the boy looked incredibly smug, a look which didn't suit him as much as his previous shifty expression and light eyes, he shot the boy a suspicion look and Grover at least had the decency to look away. Percy continued to stare at the side of Grover's head for a few more seconds then rolled his eyes and got back to work.
He washed off his brush and picked another colour, it looked green but Percy hoped it'd come out a red colour otherwise he'd be having yet another long discussion about 'striving to achieve his goal' he nearly burst out laughing as he recalled that particular conversation. He tried to rein in his concentration, however fruitless his attempts may be.
Feeling lazy, (what a surprise) he wiped his brush up and over his circle trying to create the bleeding sun effect shown in the picture, no way he thought but apparently there was a way as the colour once again came out perfect. Percy gaped, silently laughing at how stupid his face must look, he'd done it again. Was he just particularly lucky today? Or was something else going on? This time, he did notice the tugging in his gut but dismissed it as hunger – he'd had a science detention at lunch and hadn't eaten since breakfast as a result.
Percy could practically feel Grover's eyes drilling into the side of his head but he forced himself not to look, maybe if he played it off as a normal occurrence Grover won't submit him to the local asylum. Percy fake coughed again and continued his 'masterpiece'. He followed the same washing, dipping and hoping process again with orange, the same thing happened again, not to mention the fact the colours blended together perfectly.
A grin was working its way up his face at his sudden talent, water colours, who knew? About half way through the lesson he was finished painting, he was, for once, ahead of everyone else in his class, even Mary – the schools best artist and Miss Fleming's angel. Bored, Percy decided that instead of putting up with whatever writing task Miss Fleming had planned for those who finished he'd do something reckless and ambitious – he tried to paint the sun rising over the sea, instead of over land. He wasn't sure where the urge to draw water came from but he supposed that if he could pull off drawing/painting water with anything it would be watercolours.
He painted dark blue, purple and red, a strange colour choice but it somehow worked out perfectly, the colours blended and lined up perfectly with the colours above, Percy felt another pull in his gut and he managed to ,using only a wet brush, make the water look like water, with waves and everything.
"Mr Jackson." Miss Fleming called to him and his elation at his painting disappeared as fast as it came. He put his brush down, placed his elbows on the table, careful to avoid his work, laced his fingers together and stared at the gaping teacher across the table.
"Yes, Miss." He chirped, willing her to leave. The teacher didn't though she merely stared at his work, but Percy didn't feel any pride; he felt nothing but caution, he fought the urge to grab his paintbrush and lob it at her make-up covered forehead.
"I do believe I told you to copy the picture in front of you, does that picture have an ocean?" Percy clenched his teeth together and glared at the demon-teacher. The whole class were staring at them by now but Percy couldn't care less.
"No Miss," He told her, drawing the words out patronisingly. He was doomed to get in trouble from the start so why should he even try to avoid it?
"Then why have you added one." She snarled picking up one of the water pots and Percy felt an urge of fear, he ignored it.
"Because I wanted my art to be original," he lied; he couldn't exactly tell her that painting the ocean just felt right could he? An idea suddenly occurred to him and Percy continued before Miss Fleming even had the chance to open her mouth, "you did say to be original in art, after all, no art is the same, did you not?" he cocked his head to the side innocently, and he saw Grover grin out of the corner of his eye.
"Don't talk to me like that, boy." Miss Fleming growled and Percy mentally patted himself on the back after he noted her lack of snide comments concerning his previous comment. He stayed silent; he wasn't looking for a fight with the teacher he just didn't want to go down without one.
"Throw away your painting Mr Jackson." Miss Fleming instructed confidence back.
"What? Why?" Percy responded without thinking, anger had arched through him at the thought of losing his art and gripped the edges of his paper protectively.
"Because, Mr Jackson, you didn't follow simple instructions and will be redoing the class work after school," Percy growled like a feral dog at the teacher and got to his feet, not with the intention of moving anywhere towards the bin but so Miss Fleming wasn't looking down her nose at him like he was muck on her shoe.
"Make me." He challenged, holding the painting protectively, hoping the paint wasn't running but he didn't dare look down. The art teacher looked downright murderous at that and Percy instincts screamed at him to surrender but when had Percy's instincts gotten him anywhere?
"Don't you dare speak to me like that Perseus." She struck like an asp and suddenly Percy wasn't holding the painting anymore, the demon was. Percy watched in horror as she moved towards the tap, he moved to stop him but Grover grabbed his wrists, he could only watch as the teacher threw his artwork under the tap and turned the faucet. Percy was vaguely aware that the bell had gone but nobody moved, mesmerised by the trickling water.
Percy bit down a scream until he tasted blood, his gut twang painfully and the she-demon squawked as she stared into the sink at Percy's, no doubt, ruined painting. Percy's heart pounded in his chest as the teacher turned the tap off and snatched up Percy's art.
The anger faded into disbelief as he saw it – it looked the same as it had before, if not nicer – the ocean he'd drawn looked real, swirling and drifting like the untamed sea. Percy wanted to be smug but his jaw was on the floor and his eyes so wide he feared his eyes would roll right out of their sockets.
Miss Fleming was frozen in shock as well, snarl long gone from her features and Percy snapped out of his stupor long enough to grab the painting from the demons hands, as soon as he did the teacher let out a growl and the rest of his class ran out of the classroom, minus Grover who was grinning in the corner. Weirdo, Percy told himself.
Glaring at his teacher once last time Percy rolled up his painting, secured it with an elastic band from the teacher's desk and put it in his tattered old rucksack. Percy shouldered the bag and looked back at the raging teacher. Feeling strangely confident he flipped the teacher a vulgar gesture and stalked out of the classroom.
"I'll have you expelled for this" the teacher swore, Percy's fury rose again and behind him, he heard something burst but kept walking.
He wasn't allowed to continue into term 4; he had to do extra English instead. He stuck the picture on his wall with blue-tack and never took it down. Nor did he ever forget Miss Fleming, Percy didn't think the woman forgot him either, the thought made him grin.
This piece literally came out of know where, although I've got a feeling it's got something to do with my feelings towards art... probably. Anyway, thank you for reading; you're the best. Please tell me what you think, I really enjoyed writing this so I hope you like it too, I'd love an excuse to write more one-shots like this. Maybe Percy's opinions on each subject as school? I don't know.
Hope to see you again soon. :D