Chapter 10

Marcus

I don't quite know how to handle this information. I can't merge the girl who Zach described with everything I know about Jane. According to Zach, after he told her about the cheating, she left, just disappeared, no trace of her anywhere. I asked about her family, but he just shook his head, without a word. I've always been curious; I was the little kid who tried to stick his tongue in an electric pencil sharpener just to see what would happen. I have the feeling that the outcome of finding out more about Jane would be extremely similar to that of the pencil sharpener experiment. Standing by my locker, I catch sight of her slipping into a Physics class.

I still can't get over how she's dressed, normally I don't really notice what a girls wearing, I certainly never pay attention to what Kristen's wearing. That's all the same anyways, I'm sure the name of the brand is "A Thousands Ways to Give Your Father a Heart Attack." Jane, I don't get Jane, the transition from baggy t-shirts and mom jeans to lace tank tops and skin-tight pants doesn't make much sense. I really have to talk to Anna, really, really soon.

Anna

Marcus finds me with a thoroughly baffled expression on his face. So much for, you know, studying, in study hall today. One of these days, I'm going to forget to study for a test, rely on study hall to get it done, and then fail because I was too busy explaining people to Marcus. With a sigh, I place my books on the table.

"Some days…." I trail off, because Marcus isn't listening.

"I just don't get it, one day you're one thing, the next you're the complete opposite. It's like a different species, you guys make no sense." Marcus rambles, and I roll my eyes.

"Who exactly are you talking about, I got the girl bit, but is there someone specific you had in mind?" Marcus doesn't usually bring up his love life, he knows I don't approve of his girlfriend...type person. He's adamant that it's not a relationship, he keeps calling it an agreement. I don't even want to consider the terms of that agreement. If he's about to ask me what color he needs to find in Victoria's Secret for her Prom Night...

"The new girl, Jane, I just don't get it." He shakes his head, like he's trying to follow complicated Trig equations.

"What's not to get, she seems nice to me; she didn't even kill you after you dumped your lunch on her." He grimaces at the reminder, but shakes his head again. Personally, I'd be grateful, I flipped on him, and it wasn't even me wearing his lunch.

"By the way, is she okay?" He asks, running his fingers through is hair with a guilty expression on her face.

"She's fine, I lent her a new shirt, s she didn't have to walk around smelling like tomatoes." I tell him, rolling my eyes with a little muttered "only you Marcus, only you." Marcus pretends not to hear me and continues on with his interrogation.

"Is it normal for girls to just switch personalities day by day?" He demands, and I hear the frustration in his voice. I've never seen him this unraveled before. No girl has ever had this kind of effect on him.

"What do you mean?" I ask, ignoring the glare from the freshman across the table.

"Yesterday, she's a complete and stereotypical, "Plain Jane" and today…." He trails off when I raise an eyebrow at him.

"Are you talking about fashion wise, Marcus?" I ask, trying to contain my amusement as he blushes and stares down at his thoroughly scuffed sneakers.

"Yeah, but it's not just that either" He insists, and I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing. "She has all this awkward history with Zach, and she just has this look in her eyes that reminds me of…"

"Marcus!" I cut him off and he turns a brighter shade of pink. "You really like her, don't you?" I smile a little, wee little Marcus finally found a girl. He shrugs, without meeting my eyes.

"I don't know, she doesn't make any sense." He mutters. I grin, to Marcus, girls, excluding me off course, are just passing entertainment. Very few have actually caught and kept his attention. I'm talking, three, Ashley Holt in Preschool, Izzy Quan in second grade, and Olivia Peter in Eight grade. Since then, Marcus hasn't been seriously interested in a girl, not even a little. A puzzle might be a very good thing for him.

"Have you talked to her?" I ask, and Marcus stops for a second, considering it.

"Sort of, she doesn't talk much, does she?" He points out, and I nod, I'm not the biggest talker in my grade, but even compared to me, Jane is really, really, quiet. I can't tell if she's just introverted, or really doesn't like us: could be a bit of both when it comes right down to it. At the very least, Jane is one of a kind.

Jane

Quickly taking my seat in Math, I keep my head down. The last thing I want to do is face Marcus now. Of all the things that could happen on my first day actually trying to assimilate into this nuts school, why must I have soup dumped on me? He tries to catch my attention as I walk to my seat in the back of the class, but I keep my eyes firmly locked on these stupid heels. Luckily I timed my entrance right, as Mrs. Trevens starts lecturing as soon as I arrive. I murmur a quick thank you to whatever god math teachers fall under, and yank my notebook out of my bag and start scribbling notes.

The transcript Artemis conjured up for me made me seem like a star student. Unfortunately, Zach got solid B's for the majority of his life and still tutored me in all subjects, and when I say all, I mean all, he helped me study for health. That was a very awkward set of flash cards. I don't even want to remember that, and not just because of the antics that ensued after we finished strictly studying either. Though that is a contributing factor to my wish for memory lost. Amnesia sounds like a fabulous idea to me, why does everybody complain about getting it? At this point I'd welcome it with a smile on my face.

Copying down the notes, I'm not sure if the teacher's still speaking English. They don't teach math classes in French, do they? When she asks the class if they understand the information so far, there's a general chorus that the process is wicked easy. I feel my cheeks burning and glance back down at my notes, as if they'll make more sense this time around. No such luck, I bite my lip and try to remember which god is supposed to make math make sense. What the Hades, it can't hurt to pray to a random deity that I'm not sure if exists.

I was very, very wrong, apparently praying to diety who may or may not be real, can hurt, a lot.

"You should all be done by now." Mrs. Trevens informs us, and the majority of the kids nod. I just gape at them, and finally notice the practice problem on the board. Frantically, I scribble it down and start attempting to follow the process she just outlined. "Jane, could you tell us what you got?" Mrs. Trevens shoots me a motherly smile, as if to make up for the fact that she just through me to the wolves, drenched in barbeque sauce. I glance down at my paper and just see scribbles as the letters start to float around the page.

"Uh…." I don't feel like a deer in the headlights, I feel like a deer lying on the road, half-dead and waiting for the guy with the huge truck who likes venison to show up. Mrs. Trevens simply shakes her head, and moves behind her desk, shuffling through papers.

"Marcus, go sit next to her and help her keep up." She orders, and I feel my eyes widen. An uproar of "oooo's" and whistle rush through the class as Marcus picks up his books and sits beside me. A faint splattering of red appears on his cheeks. I can't imagine that I look any better. I pull my hair off to the side, hoping it covers my face enough to hide my blush.

"Anthony, what answer did you get?" She calls, a slim boy with glasses rattles off his answer. She nods and starts putting another problem on the board. I glance at Marcus, whose eyes go wide, and then squint.

"Jane," He whispers and I can hear the desperation in his voice. I lift my head and look at him, surprised by his sincerity. "Can you tell me what the problem says; I can't read it." He must see the look of confusion that crosses my face. "Dyslexia" He admits, as further explanation. As my eyes go wide, he nervously runs a hand through his long black hair. Dyslexia, dyslexia? I swallow a little, before reading off the problem. Luckily, the characters are staying in place this time around. My dyslexia isn't serious, and usually only acts up when I'm stressed, or rushing. It doesn't help that I'm out of practice trying to decipher textbooks. It's funny how some things just seem really unimportant when I'm with the hunters.

"Me too," I murmur, as he starts working on the problem, he looks up, confusion on his features. "I have dyslexia." I confess. He blinks before nodding and going back to his work. Glancing out of the corner of my eye, I see his leg shaking, another tell-tale sign of a demigod. ADD or ADHD, oh lord, I mean what are the chances. "I never thought it was that common, I've only met a few people with it before." I prod, trying to see if I can work this to my advantage. I bite my lip, hoping he can give me some insight. If I'm going to find the demigod, crazy battle awareness and the subconscious preference to read ancient Greek instead of English are red flags I need to be looking for.

"Yeah, same, Zach's the only other person I know." He admits, and I can see how that he's waiting for my reaction at him mentioning Zach. He watches me carefully, trying to be discrete and I just stare at him, the gears shifting in my mind as everything clicks into place. I might have to tell Artemis about Marcus, or gods forbid Zach. Oh god, I can't, I just can't. I'm moving too fast either way, I still don't know that either of them are the demigod I'm looking for just yet, there are other things I need to consider first. "You okay?" He asks, and I nod, trying to tap down the nausea. "Just relax and solve the problem." He recommends and it takes me a second to realize that he's talking about math, of all things. I take a deep breath and tell myself to just relax and solve the problem. If only it were that simple.