It's funny how people say you find out who you are in college. In high school, I am pretty sure you find out who you are not. But doesn't who you are not define you too?
Stupid, meaningless questions to ask when you're bored, right? That didn't make sense… And right now I am asking these incomplete questions to myself as I am sitting in my Latin classroom while not paying attention (as I am prone to do just that), staring out a window, listening to the music in the small radio on the other side of the room, and praying that I am anywhere but here and that I don't get called on.
"Miss Lectric, can you give us the answer to number six on the homework?"
Shoot. "Umm…" Isn't it annoying when teachers call on you just to prove a point? Everyone knows I don't pay attention: I know it, they know, my well-meaning teacher Mr. Hooves knows it. Sorry, but I get sidetracked easily. "What was the question again?"
My teacher sighed, clearly disappointed in me. As if my prayers were answered, he turned his attention to another student for the answer. The bell rang, a perfect fourth from the tune I was humming if I was correct, and I tried to scurry out of the classroom quickly without being lectured.
"Miss Lectric—could you hold on a minute please?" I rolled my eyes as I turned around to face Mr. Hooves, who unfortunately sat in a wheelchair, and another man that had snuck into the room sometime in my hour of vacant stares into the oblivious. The short, plump man had a certain pinched look to his face and wore a plain grey suit. A name tag read Mr. Gerald Cleveland, the school director of finances and faculty advisor. Of course I was all too familiar with this idiot, deemed as my self-absorbed English teacher in everyway: lack of people skills, lack of real talent to do anything but hinder those with talent, and lack of appreciation for anything different. A great teacher really.
"Can I ask you why you find this school to be useless? A lot of money goes towards your education, yet you completely disregard that. Lack of respect for everything, everyone. If it were up to mean I would only choose students who actually followed the rules like I did in my day. So, any response?" asked Mr. Cleveland.
"Tsk, tsk Jerry. No one likes a short guy with superiority issues," I teased. "And I don't find this school completely useless—just teachers who refuse to believe their students can be smarter than them." I grinned maliciously.
"Oh yes, silly me to think that the little old orphan could be smarter than me. What with a C in my class," 'Jerry' snorted.
"That's a C+, mister. And we both know that's just because my dyslexia scrambles everything. If you were to announce everything orally, I would have an A plus and a half."
"Well, we can't make exceptions because of a disability. That would be unfair to the kids who don't have one," he retorted. Real logic this one.
I raised my eyebrows at him. "Sound logic there Jerry. It doesn't help that this school isn't exactly sound proof. I hear everything in this school.
"Sound?" Mr. Hooves asked, intrigued.
"I have incredible hearing?" I tried to persuade him. That part was the truth. I do hear pretty much everything around me, but I do not do homework, though I am intelligent.
"Nice try, Miss Lectric," interrupted Mr. Cleveland. "How about this question: did you know that you will not be coming to school for next term?"
"So that means I won't be coming back for the summer session?" I tried to hide my content at this. I mean, what kind of people pay to go to private school all year long? Let alone who would want to go to this type of school on a scholarship? Oh, right me.
"No," he sneered. "But that also means no more scholarship money as that scholarship requires year long school so that you can practice more during the year."
"Wait, my scholarship has been revoked?" I asked incredulously.
"Did you really expect to stay here that long when the only classes you were passing were the music, Latin, and gym classes?" jibed Mr. Cleveland.
"Well if the public school kids can do it…" I smirked.
"I am sorry, Lex, but you need to be passing some of them," Mr. Hooves said kindly. "I don't mean to be this hard on you, it's just… you are undeniably bright, yet you waste your time on things that don't matter. You could be taking the hardest classes we offer at the academy, and yet you take basic classes, you were practically forced into this one. The money could be used for other students."
Truthfully, I was hurt that I was being expelled without even the slightest of academic probation or whatever. I worked hard to get out of the system, and now I had to search for a new high school for junior year. Great. But they won't see how much this will affect me. Besides, more students could benefit from it. And this place was pretty much hell, so… "Alright. That is logical. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to come learn here for the last year; I just wished I would have used my time wisely."
Mr. Cleveland seemed happy that I wasn't filing any lawsuits about the fact that my scholarship said more than one full year, but I hated it enough here to leave early. Besides, other kids are worse off then me.
Mr. Cleveland, eager to leave the room and go cash his check into the bank, rushed after I signed some paperwork to relieve me of my scholarship. Mr. Hooves, however, pouted at me as I finished the final paperwork.
"You are really just going to give up that money? You are a gifted musician and leader, Lex and a bright young girl. You are willing to just give it to someone else?" He looked at me with confusion and at the same time hope.
"I'm not a fighter. But other people can use this more than I can. Besides, the only talents I really have are fairly useless in world affairs. I am not too self-involved to realize that people have it worse than me," I joked half-heartedly. Besides they were truer than he even realized.
He stared at me as if he knew that this hurt more than I could show. "I am not too sure about that Lex—about having talents and being a fighter. If you ever need any assistance with anything, please, contact this number." He handed her a business card that read CAMP HALF-BLOOD: Where the gods may guide you.
"Um, thanks. And I am sorry about falling asleep in your class so much, though I did do well on the tests, sort of."
"Yes, your tests were always interesting. It was like you predicted what would have happened if the cultures continued… Well goodbye now, Lex. Maybe we will meet again soon."
"Yeah maybe," I said with a deceiving smile. Probably not, I thought sadly.
I walked toward the dorm rooms before I realized I sent my entire things home earlier this week. I pretty much knew that this stay was not going to be permanent, even if I had applied myself. It was so weird, but at the same time it was just this innate feeling that I have about some things.
If I had friends at this stupid, academy maybe I would have said goodbye to them, but probably not. If I wanted friends, I would have them. But I don't. I have been taking care of myself fine for years; I don't need anyone to look after me. I can get through anything.
I walked outside and found myself covered in sunshine. Only for a few seconds, though, as the once-clear sky became grey and stormy in an instant. Ironic that the weather gets bad right when my mood does, huh? Anyways, I said my goodbyes to the security guard (we got along great since we both liked comic books and the same bands) and found myself happily in New York City. I love this city, probably more than anything. It is just like my home: loud, crazy, and a little messy. You get used to that kind of stuff when you live in the foster care system and when you have lived all over the country.
Before retreating to my tiny, shared bedroom on the opposite side of the city, I decided to go to the park. I lived in the park for a little while when I was a kid, when I ran away, but then I was found and sentenced to foster care. Well, not really. There was just no where to go when I decided I wanted to come back, which is kind of sad considering it is my birthday today.
I got expelled on my birthday. Isn't that great? I turn seventeen years old today and my present is expulsion with a side of pity. Oh, well. At least I don't have to go to anymore classes…
I was waiting to cross the street at an intersection in the sketchy side of NYC when suddenly I was knocked down by a teenage boy. As a somewhat New Yorker, I was about to scream at the dark-haired boy when I noticed he fell and cut himself and was prepared to offer him some help, the dark-haired boy pulled himself together and, while looking back, tried to step into the heavy pace of traffic. No one but myself and a toddler noticed this though, so I sped up after him to make sure he didn't get himself killed.
In the middle of the street, this thing was running chasing him, though the kid was about a block ahead. It had three heads of a lion, a goat, and a snake, while its body formed the mixed combination, having front part of a lion, middle of a goat, and snake for a tail with fur and scales along its back.
The lion-goat-snake thingy abruptly stopped. Its head went into the air, as if it smelled fresh meat, and it locked eyes with me as I stopped to catch my breath. It proceeded to charge at me and the boy.
One of the worst things you can do when someone or thing is chasing you is keep looking back. For one thing it slows you down, but more importantly it makes you less aware of your surroundings; I learned this through my own personal bullying, but this kid was more worried of that thing than an angry New Yorker in a two-ton pick-up truck.
As I picked up pace to make sure I had a safe distance between me and the monster, my minded wandered off again (which irked me at that moment that I could be running for my life and still be distracted).The most disconcerting thing about all of this—not that I could be killed if I slowed down, not that this kid clearly dragged me into his troubles—was that nobody seemed to notice anything wrong. No one screamed as he ran past the fruit stand or honked their cars as it plunged itself right into traffic. No one seemed to care at all when the boy didn't notice a two-ton truck was coming after him.
With all my might, I sped up to the kid and pushed him out of the way from the car, but didn't have enough time myself to get out of the way completely. Cue tumbling and falling. People didn't try and help me that much this time, though they actually looked at me. Who knew New Yorkers could be so friendly?
The young boy finally seemed to be aware that I was trying to help him, and he nervously paced near me for a moment before his body caught up to his head which was telling him to run. I got up quickly, which hurt the most, and I was slightly embarrassed that I had fell (I'm usually much quicker than that) and started running from him as I saw how much closer the lion-goat-snake thing was to us.
I yelled back to him, "Come on, before it catches up to us!"
He turned around and started sprinting towards me. "Wait, you can see it!"
"Of course I can see it! Why else do you think I am running? Because I like getting hit by cars!" I screamed back sarcastically.
The two of us were running as fast as we could before the dark-haired boy started to make a right into an alley. Rather than split up, I followed him, though I knew it to be a bad idea.
"Damn, a dead end," he muttered under his breath. As we stopped to catch our breaths, we eagerly looked to find a way out.
"We need to try and fight back. Come on, maybe something in this ally can be used as a weapon," I coughed out. Running for your life for 12 blocks would make anyone out of breath.
For a moment I considered one possible idea; one idea that was so warped and twisted I was really considering it; one that might be able to help me and the strange boy. But that thought left my mind as quickly as it entered as the beast finally found our alley
I scurried all over the ally, ignoring the rats and ugly food, hoping to find anything that could fight off the beast. I found two pieces of sharp glass from a broken mirror and prepared myself. The dark-haired boy just stood there looking at me, with some admiration or for possible escape routes, I really don't know I was quite distracted.
Now fully caught up, it began walking toward us, smirking all three of its heads. The two of us backed up slowly, side by side, and prepared ourselves.
"Here, you are going to need this," I said, offering my piece of glass as a lame excuse for a weapon.
"Oh, I already have a weapon," he said smugly and he pulled out his pen.
"A… pen? Really you are going to hold it off with a pen?" I tried to ask, holding no mockery or sarcasm back.
"It's pretty sharp," he said as he uncapped it. The pen transformed itself into a bronze sword. He readied his fighting stance and stepped towards the beast. And all I could think was what the hell did I get myself into?
The boy attacked the beast with his sword, giving jabs and slits while, defending against the beast's teeth, horns, and tail. The two danced in a circle, trading occasional swats and jabs at one another. The boy, with quick skill and bravery, tried to defeat it with one final blow from the other side, but the beast's mouth opened a blast of fire into his surroundings. Surprised that it could breathe fire, the boy hesitated and then struck the boy in his rib cage with its teeth and horns.
"Stop!" I choked as the boy's body fell to the side lifelessly as the creature prepared for another attack on the helpless boy. He clawed his face twice before he heard my scream, which reminded it that there was still meat available and it turned its attention on me.
As I began crying, it began raining. The harder I cried, the harder it rained. I was crying now with rage and fright that he could do that to the boy, as if the boy meant nothing. I picked up the boy's sword, determined to kill the beast with all I had in honor of him, though the boy did appear to be alive.
I swung my sword at the beast and he jerked his body back. He tried to breather fire at me, but the rain was coming down too fast for it to matter anymore. When the beast knew he could not threaten me with fire and I could not threaten him with the sword, he started after the boy, now bleeding heavily from his abdomen.
This angered me more than anything in my life. To attack someone while they were down was not honorable. It wasn't fair or just, and then two terribly amazing somethings happened.
The boy, barely able to, got up from the alley ground and began manipulating the water near him to form a large pocket of water around the beast, as if to hold him. I stared there in amazement at this feat, but still I was terrified for the boy: he had lost so much blood. And as the beast tried its best to escape its imprisonment in the bubble, the boy quivered and fell to the ground in pain. The water fell to a splash and the beast leapt forward to the boy to finish what it started.
"NO!" I screamed, releasing all of the anger and fear I had from the last hour. And in midair the beast struck down, dead. A lightening bolt had electrocuted the beast. But most importantly, the lightening bolt's energy came from my hands.
In horror, I looked down to my hands and stared in shock between the injured boy and myself. But now the injured boy started walking toward me, as the water began to heal his cuts and wounds for him. He tried to reach out and help me, but I needed a moment to collect myself. I had slipped up again, and in front of another person nonetheless.
As I calmed down, the raining began to lessen, and eventually it resolved into a grey mist. I really looked at the boy for the first time in… well ever. Running around and fighting off a beast can make you a little distracted at best.
He was considerably taller than me, perhaps near six foot, with a slim, yet muscular build and physically was my opposite. His curly hair would have looked near black even dry, though it was untidy like mine; his eyes were a brilliant sea-green and immediately locked with mine.
At last, he looked uncomfortable with me after staring at me for so long as his body language shifted noticeably.
"I don't know your name," he stated suddenly.
I stared at him strangely. "Aleius Lectric—Lex for short."
He continued to stare at me with disbelief for awhile, probably at how comfortable I was with everything that had just happened.
"And your name is…?" I questioned.
"Percy. Percy Jackson."