Written for Jayne Mays writing prompt.
Title: Sightless
Summary: '"If I had known my life was about to change dramatically, all becuase of some boy I had just met, I would've worn better shoes." "I recommend combat boots. They are quite comfortable"' A Percy Jackson AU. Annabeth's POV.
Special thanks to PJATOROCKS09, my wonderful beta and Jayne Mays for waiting patiently for me to hurry up and finish writing. This is dedicated to my friend Willow, for encouraging me to 'hurry my butt up' and finish this, after only reading the first three lines.
The alarm clock brings me to the world of the living and I groan internally at the sound. My hand feels heavy as I drag it to my bedside table and slam it down on the alarm. The silence consoles me and seems to lull me into a half-awake numbness.
With a heavy sigh, I throw off my comforter and sit up.
It takes a minute or two for me to actually stand and shuffle across the hall and into the bathroom. I frown when I see my hair.
"This'll be fun to brush," I say, sarcasm heavily dripping from my words. My reflection looks like Medusa or some other terrifying monster from Greek mythology. I attempt to rake a comb through the blonde curls, but eventually give up and decide to take a shower. Just as I'm about to turn on the water, a growl from my empty stomach makes me rethink my decision.
I saunter downstairs and find my two brothers and step-mother eating at the kitchen table.
"Good morning, Annabeth," my step-mother greets, reading the back of the cereal box.
"Morning, Helen," I reply, grabbing a bowl from the cupboard. I've called never called Helen 'Mom'. Even when I was little, right after she married my dad, I refused to call her anything but her first name.
"Your father is at the store. He should be home soon," she says. Great to know, I think. Wow. I am moody today.
"Mmkay," I say quickly. I pour a good sized mound of Cocoa Puffs into my bowl and drown them in milk. With the soggy mush sliding down my throat, I rest my chin on my hand and sigh.
"I'm tired!" Mathew whines.
"No duh!" Bobby retorts. My twin stepsiblings exchange a few short arguments, but Helen tells them to hush. When I finish my cereal, I rinse the bowl a few times in the sink and set it inside Helen's larger bowl.
"I'm going to take a shower," I say, clambering up the stairs.
"Alright. Try to keep it short," Helen calls up stairs as I lock the bathroom door.
When I get out of the shower, I almost trip over the bottle of conditioner I knocked down from the edge of the tub. I kick it out of the way and hitch my towel higher up under my arms.
I dress quickly, hating the rush of cool air that sweeps over my exposed flesh.
"Annabeth, phone!" Helen yells. I didn't hear it ring, but I pick up the wireless in my room.
"Hello?"
"Annabeth!"
"Thalia?" I'm a little shocked. I didn't know Thalia got up this early.
"Who else?" she snaps.
"Well, now I see why you don't get up early."
"Hilarious. Do you think you can give me a ride to school?" She asks quickly. Thalia Grace has been my best friend for years. I've known her since we were seven.
"Yeah, of course. Jason too?" I ask. Jason is her little brother, who is only a couple years older than the brats—my nickname for Matthew and Bobby.
"…Yeah. My dad just left this morning for business and now my mom is all mopey and crap." I can almost hear Thalia's eye roll. Her father is this big time company owner, who shares the business with his two brothers. I've met her dad a few times and personally, he scares me to death.
"Kay, I'll be there soon."
"Alright. See you soon." I hang up the phone and start drying my hair with the towel as I walk back to the bathroom.
"Annabeth, I'm talking the boys to school," Helen shouts.
"Alright." I lightly put on some eyeliner and mascara, than I brush my teeth.
I sprint to the garage, grab my backpack on the way and unlock my hand-me-down Jeep Ranger. It used to be Helen's, before the twins came along and she couldn't bear to let it go.
I drive a few miles to Thalia's two-story Victorian house and honk when I pull up front. Thalia comes right out, not fitting in against the cream colored house. She's wearing her signature ripped black skinny jeans, combat boots and a tight black shirt. Her spikey black is a little bit longer from the last time I saw her and almost touches her shoulders.
"Hey! Thanks for doing this. Jason's just getting his shoes on." She rolls her heavily lined, electric blue eyes and climbs into the car. I left the top off, because I like the feeling of the wind, no matter how tangled my hair gets.
"Jeez Thals, lighten up on the eyeliner. You look like a raccoon!" She gives me one of her death glares. This I know, because I've seen her give it to the preps at school all the time.
"This is how I like it. This is how it stays," she snaps.
"Are you having anger issues again?" I ask. I know it's a bad idea. Thalia was born with her fathers' temper.
"Annabeth!" She screeches. I put my hand on her shoulder which does not help me at all.
"I was just kidding Thals," I say. She huffs and crosses her arms over her chest. By now, Jason is out of the house and almost to the car.
"Hi, Annabeth," he says cheerily, climbing into the back of the Jeep. I start the car back up and begin driving again.
"Hi," I respond, glancing in the rearview mirror at him. His blonde hair is messy and disheveled.
"Gosh, Jason! Did you even brush your hair?" Thalia asks, turning around in her seat to look at him.
"Crap! I knew I was forgetting something," he says, raking his fingers. Thalia and I exchange a knowing look.
"Alright, what's her name?" Thalia asks, continuing to turn around in her seat look at him.
"I…I have no idea what you're talking about," he counters quickly.
"Jason! What's. Her. Name," Thalia demands, her eyes seeming to get brighter. I shrink away from her a little. Jason meets her gaze with sky blue eyes, but it wavers slightly and his whole barrier collapses.
"It's Piper, okay?" He holds his hands up in defense and sags against his backpack.
"Hmph. Sounds alright." Thalia huffs again and turns back looks out the window. Well, the nonexistent window, but whatever. "Annabeth? Do you know what it means?"
"Why do you expect me to know?"
"Are you kidding? You're like a walking dictionary!"
"So…"
"So…do you know what it means?"
"Possibly," I say. It's actually a very easy name to remember. Simple meaning too.
"What is it?"
"Thals, think about it. Piper, means flute player. It makes total sense," I say. Thalia rolls her eyes.
"I don't pay attention to stuff like that!"
"Don't you think you're being a little over-protective?" I ask.
"No," she says.
"But I'm fifteen!" Jason says from the back, poking his head up by our elbows.
"Yeah and I'm seventeen. So that means I have the right to be protective." Thalia holds a stubborn look and looks forward at the road. We're almost to our High School now.
"Oh Thalia," I mutter. I pull into the parking lot and find a spot.
"Annabeth!" a voice from behind me yells. I turn around to see my boyfriend, Luke Castellan, walking over to the car.
"Oh, hi, Luke!" I say with a small smile. Luke and I have been dating for three months now, but it just isn't…working out. Well, for me at least.
"I missed you this weekend," he says with his signature smirk. I can tell Thalia rolling her eyes behind us. I try to say something, but by then, Luke has seized my lips with his and wound his arms around my waist. When he pulls away, leaving me breathless and flustered, I blink a few times.
"Hi Thalia and…Jason, right?" Luke says, his eyes focused over my shoulder.
"Luke." Thalia addresses him coldly. Luke is a year older than us, but when we were freshmen, we were both in love with him. Luke had always been popular, but Thalia and I had wormed our way into a freshmen clique. Eventually, we got fed up with the constant gossip and bitchiness. One day, while at the local coffee shop, Thalia and I told our 'friends' off and after that Luke just kind of…stuck with us. When he asked me to one of the many school fundraisers, instead of Thalia, she decided that she hated him.
"Yo, Luke!" a voice yells. Luke looks over at one if his bonehead friends, then back at me.
"See you later?" he offers, a grim smile on his face. I ignore how much his scar shows when he does this and nod.
"Right," I say. He pecks my lips and jogs off.
Luke is the kind of guy born into popularity. In a way, he looks like Jason, but his hair is a sandy-golden color, his eyes are a little bit darker blue. Then there's the scar. A thin line of white scar tissue running down the side of his face.
I asked Luke about it once. He said when he was little that he fell down the stairs in his house. I didn't ask about it again.
"Thalia! Jason! Annabeth!" a voice calls enthusiastically. I'm getting really tired of people calling my name today.
"Oh, hey, Bianca." I look up in time to see the olive skinned, dark haired, senior hug Thalia tightly.
"What no 'Hey, Nico'?" I roll my eyes as Bianca's little brother approaches. They could actually pass for twins, because they both like so alike, but Nico is a little taller and more…Gothic? I guess?
"Hi, Nico," Thalia mutters distastefully. Nico rolls his dark brown eyes and holds open his arms.
"C'mon, I'm your cousin too. I deserve a hug," he tells her. Bianca and Nico di Angelo are actually Thalia's cousins. Her father's two brothers each have two children. I only know Bianca and Nico because they live close to Thalia and Jason. In fact, I don't even know the other two, nor do I know their names.
Thalia gives Nico a short hug, but before I know it, the elder di Angelo sibling is squeezing me tightly.
"Hi…Bianca," I say.
"How was your weekend?" Bianca asked, stepping back and smiling at me.
"Boring. As usual," I say. Bianca laughs and shrugs.
"It couldn't have been that bad," she says.
"You have no idea," I mutter with a sigh.
"Percy!" Thalia screams. We all look over to see a guy about my age walking towards us, with unruly black hair. Behind him, a younger guy who looks about Jason's age with mousy brown hair. She runs over to where he is and tackles him. He staggers backwards but manages to stay standing.
When the two boys get over to us, I see that the boy with black hair has vivid sea green eyes, while the other boy has chocolate brown. Bianca, Nico and Jason all exchange their "hellos" with the two mysterious boys. I stand by my jeep, not sure what to do. In the end, I have to clear my throat to get everyone's attention.
"Oh gosh! Annabeth, these are my cousins Percy and Tyson," Thalia beams at me and pushes her cousins over to me. I walk around my car to the small group they have all formed.
"Uh…Annabeth," I mumble, holding out my hand awkwardly.
"Percy." My gray eyes meet his sea green and suddenly it's like no one else is there. It's just the two of us.
"Nice to meet you," I choke out. He nods, his eyes not leaving mine.
"And…uh, this is my little brother, Tyson," Percy says, pulling his hands from mine. It seems to pull me out of my reverie.
"Hi, Tyson," I say, shaking his overly large hand. Even though Percy is clearly older, Tyson is more built and muscular. Granted, Percy looked muscular, just not ripped like Tyson. A look of shock glues itself to my face.
"I play football," Tyson explains in a deep but soft voice.
"Ah. I see. It was nice meeting you. I have to go now, but I'll catch up with you later? Right Thals?" I say, grabbing my backpack from my car and walking across the parking lot. I don't wait for Thalia to respond, nor do I look over my shoulder.
Whatever just happened with that Percy guy was…weird. I get to the front steps when I notice Rachel Elizabeth Dare cleaning up a bunch of paintbrushes.
"Watch it!" she snaps, anytime someone gets too close to a paintbrush. I kneel down next to her and help her pick them up.
"Hi Rach," I say, handing her a few paintbrushes. She glances up at me, curly red hair bobbing up and down.
"Oh, hey Annabeth. Thanks for helping me," she says. Rachel is the most art obsessed person I have ever met. I have a few of my classes with her and when the class is in complete chaos, she's the only thing that keeps me sane. Over the past few months, we've become pretty close friends.
"Yeah, no problem." I hand her the last paintbrush and we both stand.
"See you in English?" Rachel shrugs.
"See you then," I agree.
I walk up the steps and veer left so I can go to the Algebra building. An arm loops around my waist and when I'm about to turn and yell at them, I see its Luke.
"Oh, it's just you." I breathe a sigh of relief.
"Who'd you think it was? The principal?" Luke teases, bumping against my hip. I roll my eyes but sag into his side.
"No," I say, lightly slapping his shoulder, "I'm just tired. That's all."
"Alright," Luke gives me a reproachful look, "See you at lunch?"
"Lunch," I agree. He sneaks a small kiss before stalking off to the Geography building. I push into my Algebra class and take my seat, near the dirty brown chalkboard. Most of the chalkboards were replaced years ago, but my teacher, Mr. Calhoun, got stuck with one of the few ones left. The bell rings and Mr. Calhoun greets us with an exhausted expression.
"Morning class, please get out your weekend assignment," he says, as groans echo around the room.
When Algebra ends, I walk as fast as I can to English. Rachel is there, sitting next to a black-haired mystery guy. I hesitantly take the seat next to him and when I look back over at him again, I'm greeted by sea green orbs.
"Annabeth, right?" Percy asks. I nod.
"Yeah, that's me," I say, getting out my notebook and pencil. The bell has rung and Ms. Gates is writing the morning assignment on the whiteboard.
"Good morning, class," she says cheerfully. "You are going to partner up in groups of three or four and begin the assignment. If you have not finished by the end of the class, one person may take it home to finish it. It is due when you step inside the classroom tomorrow." I sigh.
"Hey, Rach, partners?" I ask her, leaning around Percy to look around her. Ms. Gates is the only one of my teachers who doesn't have assigned seats, reason being the fact that she always gives us group assignments. That way, when we get our partners, they're near us, so we can just start the project.
"Definitely," Rachel says. Then she nods her head towards Percy slightly. I take the hint and look at him.
"Want to be in our group?" I ask him.
"Sure. Thanks," he smiles.
"I imagine it would be hard to find a group when you're new." I gesture to Rachel, "This is my friend Rachel."
"Oh, we've met," Rachel says.
"You have?"
"I accidently ran into her at the Hoover Dam," Percy says sheepishly.
"Accidently ran into me? You almost knocked me over the edge of the balcony, after you tripped me during the tour!" Rachel exclaims. Percy's cheeks grow a strawberry-red color.
"Sorry?" he offers with a shrug. Rachel smiles and rolls her eyes.
"You guys went to the Hoover Dam! That's one of my favorite architectural structures!" I say suddenly.
"One you're your favorite whaa?" Percy asks.
"She's an architect freak," Rachel explains.
"Gee, thanks," I joke. "Really though, I kind of am."
"Okay then," Percy says. Rachel gets out her own notebook and says, "Guess we should start on the project now, huh?"
"Yeah, probably," I answer, looking at the board.
"Write a five page story with your partners using the following words," Rachel mumbles, scribbling down the words on a piece of paper.
"This will be easy," I say. Rachel rolls her eyes.
"That's because you actually know the meaning of le…leio…I can't even say the word!" Rachel says, exasperated.
"Which word?" she points to it on the board. "Leiomyoma? That's type of tumor and I only know about that because my Aunt had one in her uterus one last year."
"Too much information!" Percy says, covering his ears.
"Sorry. I'm used to it being just me and Rachel."
"Let's just get started on the story, alright?" Rachel says, as she tries to stifle a laugh.
After that, second hour becomes my favorite class.
"So did you just move here?" I ask Percy. Rachel is working on the paragraph we just put together.
"Yeah," he sighs.
"That sucks," I tell him. He nods.
"Yeah. My Mom's getting remarried again," he explains.
"Oh. Wow. So, do you like your soon-to-be-stepdad?" I ask. My mom left my dad when I was only two, than remarried Helen two years later, so I can't really relate to him. I've grown up with Helen as my mother-figure, so it doesn't feel like there's a stranger in my house. It just feels normal.
"Yeah, he's pretty cool. A lot nicer than my old stepdad." Percy sighs and turns his watch around his wrist a few times.
"So does, uh, does Tyson get his looks from your dad? Because he looks more like your cousin than Thalia," I say, trying to keep the conversation going.
"I know right?" he laughs, "Actually, I take after my dad in appearance. He got our Mom's eyes, but I'm not sure where he got the brown hair from. Probably my Mom's parents. I've never really met them, because they died when my Mom was little, but I'm sure that's we he got it from."
"I've never met my grandparents either," I sigh. My father isn't on good terms with most of his family, so we usually spend holidays alone. We're both silent for a while until Rachel holds up the paper.
"Done! You wanna read it so far?" she asks, waving around the second page to our assignment.
"Sure," Percy replies, grabbing it. I sigh.
We finish the fourth page just as the bell rings.
"I'll finish it at home," Rachel says. "See you in art," she tells me. I watch her walk out the door as I put my notebook away.
"So, what do you have next?" Percy asks me.
"Latin." I sling my backpack over my shoulders and walk out the door.
"Me too," Percy says, following me.
"Can I see your schedule?" I ask him. He hands me a folded up piece of paper from his back pocket.
"Well, we have four classes together," I say, handing his schedule back.
"Awesome," Percy says, smiling. I met his sea green eyes and can't help but smile back. We stop a few feet away from the classroom door, still smiling. I feel an arm slide around my shoulder suddenly.
"Who's this?" Luke asks.
"Oh, this is Percy. He's in my Latin class," I explain. Luke glances at me and back at Percy.
"Well, well. You new here?" He asks. Percy dips his head down in a nod.
"Uh, yeah."
"Then I guess I have to welcome you to Hell," Luke says.
"Luke," I say, slapping his shoulder. It's a habit of mine.
"What? I'm not gonna lie to him," Luke says, turning to me and grabbing my waist. He pulls me in for a short kiss and out of the corner of my eye, I see Percy glancing at his Converse awkwardly. When Luke pulls away, his face easily pulling into a smirk.
"Break it up you two," a rough voice says. We immediately take a step back from each other. Mr. Brunner, my Latin teacher, rolls over to us in his wheelchair.
"Sorry Mr. Brunner," I say quietly. He gives us both a stern nod and rolls on his wheelchair and into the classroom. I laugh a little as he disappears.
"See you later?" Luke offers with a small smile.
"Alright," I say, trying to stifle a laugh.
"So, wanna get to class before the bell rings?" Percy asks, long after Luke is gone.
"Oh yeah, you're still standing there," I joke, as we start walking.
"Yeah," he says.
"Sorry," I say, with a shrug.
"It's ok. Let's just get to class."
The bell rings just as we step over the threshold. I hurry to my seat as Percy walks up to Mr. Brunner. He's put in a seat across the room, in a secluded corner near a girl with glasses and pin-straight hair.
"Today class, you will pick partners and begin a project on a Greek God or Goddess," Mr. Brunner says. "Try not to crowd in one area. You may begin," he tells us. I grab my bag and move over to Percy as the girl turns to him with a big smile.
"So, I was wondering if you—"
"Hey partner," I greet, walking right up to his desk.
"Hey Annabeth," Percy smiles. His eyes clearly read, thank you. The girl pouts and stomps over to the other side of the room. I slide into the desk in front of him and pull my Latin book out of my bag.
"Okay, so what God do you want to do?" I ask, flipping to the Greek Mythology section.
"Thanks for that, by the way," Percy sighs. "And whatever you want."
"I was thinking Athena. Or maybe Artemis," I continue.
"I thought Athena was a Goddess," Percy says. I arch an eyebrow at him.
"So? She's the Goddess of wisdom. I think she's perfect for the assignment." I roll my eyes at him and cross my arms.
"Can I see the book?" Percy grabs it and starts flipping backwards through the pages.
"We should do the report on…him!" he slams his finger down on a picture. I turn it around to see who it is.
"Poseidon? No way! Athena is so much better!" I say.
"Prove it! Poseidon is God of the oceans. You have to admit that's pretty cool," Percy says.
"No. I am not doing a report on Poseidon, when Athena is clearly better," I tell him. The argument continues like this for a while.
"Why don't we pick another God?" Percy offers.
"Or Goddess," I say.
"Let's just pick another one!"
"Fine," I sigh, flipping through the pages quickly. I'm surprised I don't rip one of the pages, but then I see that most of them are already ripped. "How about Artemis?" I ask, after a moment of silence. Percy reads the little paragraph on her and shakes his head.
"She hates guys! I'd rather do the report on Apollo."
"You're just being stubborn!"
"I'm being stubborn? You're the stubborn one here. And besides, Apollo is the God of music!"
"So! Being the God of music doesn't matter as much as you think it does. Not as much as wisdom!"
"I cannot believe I'm hearing this!" Percy exclaims. "How can you not like music?"
"I like music!"
"Sure."
"I do like music."
"Right and Olympus is above the Empire State Building!" he tells me.
"It is not!"
"Exactly!"
"It's physically impossible," I continue, then launch into a full blown rant on how the Olympus can't be above the Empire State Building.
"Okay, okay! No need to talk my ear off," Percy says after moment. He covers his ears with his hands and start saying 'la la la'.
"Sorry," I say, grinning. He rolls his eyes, but smiles back.
"We should probably pick a God or Goddess now," he tells me.
"Probably," I agree.
"How about…Hestia? She seems pretty cool," Percy says, pointing at her paragraph.
"Alright. Hestia it is," I say. "I'll start looking for more things on Hestia and you copy down the notes."
"And how do you suppose I do that?" he asks.
"With a book," I say slowly, as if he was three.
"I'm not stupid, Annabeth. I don't have a book," he says.
"Oh. You could've told me that first."
"My apologies?" he offers with a confused shrug.
"Oh just go ask Mr. Brunner for a book," I say, with a huff.
"Well, someone's moody."
"Shut up!" I say, kicking his shin under the desk, which backfires completely, because I hit my shin on the metal shelf on the bottom. "When did that get there?" I rub my shin and pout. Percy laughs and stands up.
"Stay here and try not to kick anything," he tells me.
"That's real funny, Percy," I shout to him, a few people turn their heads in my direction, but most of the class is preoccupied with making paper airplanes or flipping aimlessly through pages in the book.
"Okay, got one," Percy says, sitting back down with a book in his hands.
"Alright, you start making notes; I'll look for more information."
"Are you sure you don't want to write?"
"Yeah, why?"
"Because your handwriting is better than mine."
"How do you know? Maybe my handwriting is horrendous!"
"I doubt that! You're a girl! You're supposed to have good handwriting."
"That is such a sexist comment!"
"It is not. I'm complementing girls' handwriting."
"Complementing girls' handwriting my-"
"How is the report going?" Mr. Brunner asks suddenly. I jump and turn to see him sitting right next to the desk I'm in.
"Good," I say. Mr. Brunner raises his bushy eyebrows.
"We're fighting over whose going to write," Percy pipes. Mr. Brunner nods.
"Well, good luck. May I suggest getting started on the actual project soon?" Mr. Brunner gives us both a stern look and wheels off in a different direction.
"I'll write," Percy says.
"Good choice."
We begin our project, but it seems that soon the bell rings.
"So, see you later?" I offer, as we walk out the door. He nods.
"'Kay. See ya," he responds. When I turn around to walk to Art, I'm face-to-face with Thalia.
"Jeez Thals, you scared me," I say. I start walking past her, but she spins and keeps a steady pace with me.
"So, how many classes do you have with Percy?" She asks with an innocent look. Well, as innocent as Thalia can muster with her raccoon eyes.
"Four, I think. Why?" We're almost to the Art room, but still elbowing to get the freshmen who don't know how to navigate the school that well, out of our way.
"Just…don't try anything with him."
"What on Earth is that supposed to mean?"
"Look, he just got out of relationship with some ditz name Callie or Calypso or as I like to call her, airhead-demon, so don't hurt him. You're my best friend Annabeth, but I would personally punch you in the face if you hurt my cousin. He's had a rough life, so please don't play with his emotions."
"Play with his emotions! Thalia, you are making no sense! I'm going out with Luke, remember? There is nothing between me and Percy, alright?"
"Alright, alright," she says.
"Don't you have to get to algebra?" We're standing at the door of the art room.
"Screw algebra," she says. Thalia jerks her thumb over to the front gate where Nico di Angelo and some other black-clad guy are waiting.
"See you later," I say. Most people would either be sneaking out with their best friends, or convincing them not too, but there's no stopping Thalia when she wants something.
"Adios, me amigo!" she says happily. I scurry into class before the bell rings and take my seat next to Rachel.
"Hey," she greets, with a flushed face and a breathless voice.
"Everything okay?" I ask.
"Yeah. I ran here. I had been at the main office," she says. I nod. The main office is at the front of school, whereas the art building is the farthest from it.
"Why there?" I ask quietly, as the art teacher starts droning on and on about something in the news.
"I forgot my GYM shirt, so I asked my dad to bring it," she shrugs.
"Well alright," I say.
"Ms. Chase, quiet please," the art teacher snaps. I pout and slouch in my seat. Well, stool, I guess.
"Ooh, caught by the teacher," Rachel jokes. I roll my eyes at her. The teacher begins explaining our next project, and I tune out a little.
"I don't even know why I chose art," I murmur.
"Because art is amazing, fun and important to modern society," Rachel says from somewhere to my left.
"Shhh, you're not allowed in my daydream," I shake my finger at her and go back to 'La La land'.
"Um, Annabeth? We kind of have to start our project now," she tells me.
"What is our project?" I ask, turning my head to face her.
"We have to create a painting of a childhood memory, and then present it to the class when everyone is done."
"Sounds like fun," I say with a grim smile.
"It does," Rachel nods.
"I was being factious."
"Oh."
Her smile drops like a brick falling off a building. She whaps me in the arm with her paintbrush and gets up to claim an easel.
"Jeez Rachel, when did you become so violent?" I ask, jumping up and heading to the 'smock stand'. It's really just a coat hanger with tons of smocks covering it, but Mrs. Pryce, the teacher, insists we call it a smock stand.
She can call it whatever she wants. To me, it looks like a fat, lumpy ghost who likes to hand out smocks and stand in a room filled with paint fumes all day. Rachel and I named him Gary. I grab two smocks and walk over to the two easel's Rachel claimed for us.
"Your smock, Mi'lady," I joke, with a small bow to follow.
"Why thank you, dear servant," Rachel cries in a mock, 'southern belle' accent. We giggle like we're eight and put on our smocks.
"Do you girls know what you want to paint?" Mrs. Pryce asks.
"Yes," Rachel says, smiling, as she walks over to the paint tray table.
"Not exactly," I say.
"Well, what's a good childhood memory of yours?"
"I…don't really…have one," I say slowly. "Either that or I can't remember."
"Well, try to remember your childhood. I'm sure it'll come to you," Mrs. Pryce pats my shoulder and walks to the next easel. Rachel returns with an assortment of dark colors on her paint tray.
"I wasn't sure what colors you'd want, sorry," she shrugs.
"It's fine; I don't even know what to paint yet." I sit back on the stool behind the easel. Since we don't have enough easels at school, some kids sit at their tables and start drawing a draft to their paintings. Mrs. Pryce isn't usually strict about painting on the first day; she says it's alright to use that day to brainstorm. I'm convinced that Mrs. Pryce is Bipolar.
"Ow! Frick! This is ABUSE!" I look across the room as Melanie Hopkins throws another bottle of paint at Vera Carter.
"Girls!" Mrs. Pryce hisses, stomping over to them. This how Melanie ended up in the corner like a three-year-old as Vera scrubbed the paint off her face with a paper towel. She sits back down at an easel with red cheeks and a dot of orange on her nose.
"Hey Rach…whoa!" Rachel has turned her empty canvas into a shaded picture of broken pieces of glass in a far corner. She's starting to draw the outline of a large hand holding a smaller hand.
"Hmm?" she turns to look at me, a few smudges of paint on her face.
"That's amazing!" I tell her.
"Thanks," she says, with a sheepish grin. She begins painting again.
"What is it supposed to be?" I ask.
"The only time I spent time with my dad." She sighs. I know Rachel has a bad relationship with her dad, but I didn't know it was that horrible. "We were decorating my room and I dropped a mirror. I accidently cut my hand on a piece of glass when I was trying to clean it up. My dad helped me clean my hand and wrap it up in a bandage. I like to pretend he was just holding my hand, not bandaging it."
"Wow, I'm sorry," I say. She shrugs.
"I've never been close to him. It doesn't really matter to me anymore."
"Well, it's a beautiful painting."
"It's not even finished," she sighs.
"Still," I insist, wishing I had that kind of talent.
When art ends I stomp to my next class, only because I didn't even start painting yet.
I stumble a bit, and look down at the crack in the sidewalk I tripped over. Suddenly a body slams into mine, sending me down to the concrete.
I land on my back, but hit my head on the sidewalk. I feel the other person land on my stomach and cough a little. A familiar face appears above mine, with a small smile, as if to say 'sorry'.
"Hi."
With a sigh, I say, "Hi Percy."