Hey guys! I'm soooooo sorry that this took me so long! I've been really busy the past few weeks. I hope that you guys like this chapter! Sorry again.

By the way, special thanks to sififantasygirl, Zoe Nightshade, creamsoda92, Jake the Drake, daughterofartemis, xXxWithinTemptationxXx, Heavy Metal Freak, gab4eva24, and Drishti Choudhury for reviewing! You guys make my day! =D

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I hesitated, my fingers hovering over the "call button". What would I say? Did she know that her son was a demigod? Would she want to know?

After one more moment of hesitation, I pushed it in and took a deep breath as a ringing sound came on. She was his mom; she had a right to know.

Rrrriing! Rriing! Click. "Yeah, what is it, Eddy?" a rude, sneering voice came on the line.

"Um..." I said, caught off guard and desperately thinking up a story, "this isn't Eddy. My name is Grover, and I'm from Yancy Academy. May I speak to Mrs. Jackson, please?"

I could almost imagine a huge, fat guy at the other end of the line scrutinizing the phone. I had a feeling that the guy had put it on speaker; either that or he had ESPN on an absurdly high volume. I could hear the commentator say something about a football player getting banned because steroids fell out of his butt during a game. Interesting.

Finally, the voice on the other end spoke again. "What do you want? Sally's not home right now. If you're calling about the punk- I mean, Percy, you talk to me about it. I'm his father."

His father? That didn't sound right. Unless she had gotten a new husband... some do that. But why would Percy's mom, a perfectly decent person (or at least I assume she was decent, seeing as one of the gods had fallen for her), marry this rude jerk?

I said in what I hoped was an authoritative voice, "Um, can you tell me when she gets home? I need to talk to her about, uh, mom stuff." Um? Uh? Mom stuff? I guess I wasn't doing a very good job on the authoritative part.

Another silence. Boy, this guy was a slow thinker. Suddenly, I got a whiff of a smell, and gagged. It was seriously nasty. And even weirder, it was coming out of the phone. No, it wasn't quite like the phone smelled, it was more as if a scent had radiated through it. That guy must've not have showered for years. But I had smelled that scent before, I knew it. It wasn't a monster; the smell was more repulsive, not evil. But then what did I know it from?

It hit me. Percy. He was in sixth grade, and still hadn't been seriously attacked by any monsters. That scent that was covering up his half-blood scent--it was the same as this. Mr. Smelly had been covering up his godly scent for years. My opinion of Sally Jackson was restored. In fact, it increased. She was one smart lady.

"Call back at five. That's when she gets home," Mr. Smelly said. I flinched so hard that I dropped the phone, and then yelped as it ran into my hoof. Shoot! I had completely forgotten that the guy was still on the phone. I picked the phone back up and said, "Okay, thanks for your help. Bye."

I heard a click on the other end of the line without another word. I was starting to like this guy less and less by the second. "Bye to you too," I muttered bad-temperedly.

At that exact moment, Percy burst into the room and flopped onto his bed. Yeah, I definitely smelt the same smell, and only faintly under was his half-blood one.

"What's up?" I said easy-goingly.

"I...am...going...to...murder... Nacy Bobofit!" he said, punching the pillow as he said 'murder'. I was about to say, Don't murder the pillow as well, but I thought the better of it.

I pushed my thoughts to touch his. I couldn't get much through the wave of anger roaring in his head, but oh. Ouch. That must've hurt.

"Yeah, she is a jerk," I told him. "Are you okay?"

He took a deep breath to calm himself. I was surprised that he had that much self-control. Most half-bloods would be out there pulverising Nancy if she had made them trip on a banana peel and fall down a flight of stairs.

"Yeah," he said, and then rolled over onto his back and stared at the ceiling. I tried to read his expression, but I couldn't. And his thoughts were too deep for me to read; it was as if he had sealed himself inside his head.

I gave up after a few seconds of trying to understand him, and then gave a contented sigh and fell asleep.

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A hand shook me. "Um, Grover?"

I blinked my eyes open. "What?" I said sleepily.

"Um, you just fell asleep. We still have evening classes. It's only, like, three in the afternoon right now."

Ah! He was right. "Oh my gosh, sorry! Thanks for waking me up!" I started chewing nervously at the tin can I always kept in my pocket, and then froze as I noticed Percy staring at me. I threw it in the trash.

"Uh, your welcome. Why were you just chewing on a soda can?"

"Um, ah, well you see, I have this muscular disorder in my legs and when I get worked up they hurt, and I chew on things when I'm in pain, so.... yeah."

He looked like he didn't believe me. My ears started to turn pink, and so I muttered, "C'mon, we'd better get down to science class."

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I trotted out of PE as fast as I could, and rushed to Chiron's room. You don't know how boring it is to go through a bunch of stretches and exercises designed for kids with muscular disorders when you don't even have the muscular disorder everyone thinks you do. And anyways, it was almost six, and I was supposed to call Mrs. Jackson an hour ago.

I rounded the corner and ran right into Nancy Bobofit and her giggling friends. Like, literally, me and another girl ended up on our butts, on the floor. My face started to turn red.

"What was that for?" the girl sitting on the ground across from me sniffled angrily. "You just ruined my pants!" She then burst out sobbing. It was obviously fake, but the noise drew the teacher out of the nearest classroom.

Luckily for me, it was Chiron. "What do we have here?" he said, one eyebrow raised.

"Grover pushed me!" the girl on the ground wailed. I was about to ask why I was on the ground then, but I realized I was standing. Oops. I guess I shouldn't have gotten up.

Chiron looked at the girl and then at me, and said, "Grover, I need to talk to you in my classroom. Come with me."

He then wheeled his chair into the ancient classical room, and, right before I followed, I glanced at Nancy Bobofits sneer. Busted, she was thinking, wishing I could hear her thoughts.

Unfortunately, I could.