-Percy-
It was only as Percy approached the glistening school gates that he remembered the knife in his pocket. Shit, he thought, that was definitely something that could get him into some serious trouble on his first day. His mind had been elsewhere as he walked, cycling through memories from his last year at school, and pondering the year ahead. Yancy High School, an underfunded New York City public school with a reputation that could rival a prison, had been Percy Jackson's stomping ground for the last three years, as he and his friends carved out a reputation that lived up to the area they came from – the notorious Olympus Estate.
Their little gang of 'Olympians' had loved nothing more than to wreak havoc on the lives of the poor Yancy staff, and were frequently the initiators of large scale corridor brawls, parking lot scuffles and afterschool shoplifting. They had hardly been the only troublemakers though, with countless other gangs and groups scattered throughout the school, usually divided by where people lived. You didn't have to look very far for unrest if you wanted it, and most students were more than happy to oblige, with the school not far off resembling a battlefield on particularly bad days. As they'd been getting older, it had been becoming increasingly more dangerous, hence the knife in Percy's pocket. It had become instinct to take it when leaving Olympus, and especially on his own, hoping to never use it but always ready if he needed protection. Percy knew what they did was wrong, but what did he care, his life wasn't worth much to the outside world anyway, and to the staff at school he was just another juvenile delinquent; an image he had always been more than happy to play up to. Besides, it was fun for him; he got to spend time with his pals, messing around and generally just getting up to no good. In their minds they were doing little more than letting off steam, and for as much as Percy hated school with every fibre of his being, he certainly had some great memories. He'd be well on his way to making another year's worth of them if it weren't for one little problem – the hellhole in his mind was not the school he now stood before.
No, Percy stood gazing at the pristine white marble building that was Goode High School, a self-styled specialist school that typically catered to New York's richest trust fund babies. In the early morning September sun, it looked like the whole place was glowing. What Percy was actually doing here, he was still trying to comprehend. These were kids who lived in huge houses and drove to school in Mercedes, whose parents all had memberships to golf clubs and worked big city jobs for obscene salaries, or came from some of the most well-known families in the city. It was out in an area of New York Percy hardly visited, away from the overbearing concrete and asphalt jungle he lived in. By all accounts, he shouldn't be anywhere near a school like this. As he glanced around, he noticed no students, only empty looking windows and gleaming walls. He knew he was late, but briefly wondered if anybody else risked tardiness at this place. He'd been told to head straight to the principal's office at eight o'clock for the start of the day, and wanted to see how it would land if he were ever so slightly off with his timing. Not enough to be insulting, just the amount to fit a 'missed my bus' excuse; it would give him an idea of how lenient his new overlords would be early on. Percy doubted that anybody at a school like this had the balls to stand up to teachers. Then again, he doubted they had many students like him. Standing and gazing up at the place he was now supposed to spend the final year of his school life, he just couldn't shake the feeling that he didn't belong, like he was some sort of alien about to land on a brand new planet.
It wasn't just his historically bad school behavior that Percy was thinking about; he was sure there were some troublemakers somewhere in this building (rich kids had to have wild sides, surely). No, it was his home life that was playing on Percy's mind. Olympus Estate was home to more than just some rowdy school kids, and he and his friends didn't call themselves 'Olympians' for no reason. The Olympians was actually the name of one of New York's largest criminal gangs, and they operated from the estate they'd been born out of. Many of the adults who lived in the various apartments were involved in the gang in some way or another; not everyone mind, but still more than enough for the place to be considered a no-go area unless you were really brave or really stupid. Crime was not only the most common career path for kids from the estate when they left school, it was just about the only choice they had, and kids took to calling themselves mini-Olympians from young ages. It amused many of the actual gang members no end, and meant that there was always a sense of expectation among lots of the estate kids, expectation to live up to the name they chose, or lose the right to use it. All that pressure was twofold for Percy, whose father just so happened to run the gang.
Yes, that's right, Percy Jackson's father, known to any and every one simply as Poseidon, had been a criminal for as long as anybody could remember. No one really knew how long he'd been running his gang, or how he came to acquire so much power and influence, or just quite how many different areas the gang seemed to operate in, but everybody knew who the boss was in the estate. He collected the rent, he protected the residents, and his gang policed the people that lived there when necessary. It was rare to see any actual police officers brave enough to step foot there, and they were called so rarely that they hardly ever bothered. No, if you had a problem at Olympus, going to the police was a big no-no; you called the gang, you called Poseidon, they would deal with it. It was all very hush-hush though, you never made a big deal about it; if you needed their help, you wanted it over and done with as quickly as possible. That was the type of father Percy had grown up with, tough, intimidating and hardly ever around. He had been an ever present figure looming over Percy's life without really being involved in it, leaving Percy to be raised by his mother. And yet, his reputation was so large within the walls of Olympus that it had always been assumed by practically everyone, Percy included, that he would one day inevitably follow in his father's footsteps and join the gang. It wasn't a dream of Percy's necessarily, just a dismal understanding that it was probably all he would be good for when he grew up. As far as he knew, in his seventeen years on earth his father had never once tried to steer Percy away from his delinquent behavior, which is why it was such a surprise to find himself in front of this strange school, a potential chance at opportunity, all because of his father.
His father had never taken an interest in his education before now, but had apparently decided that now was the time to get started, and had begun making arrangements for Percy's final year, all without telling him. In a rare afternoon dinner with him a week ago, Poseidon had made it quite clear to Percy that Goode would be his new school, and it wasn't up for discussion. In neglecting to tell his son exactly why he had taken this sudden interest, he left Percy wracking his brains trying to come up with a logical explanation, and he kept coming up short. How he'd managed to get Percy a place at a prestigious school like Goode was an even bigger mystery (although knowing his father, he thought it might be for the best he didn't find out) – Yancy was a dirty word to many people in the city, and the only reason most parents didn't pull their children out was because few other schools would take on transfers. Gazing up at the building, Percy imagined he was the first Yancy student to ever upgrade schools like this. Yet, this didn't fill him with joy, and as he realised he had been standing in one spot for a good few minutes now, he noticed a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. It was a nervous tingling, and made Percy feel like a kid on his first day of high school again. Briefly, he wondered how much trouble he would get in for skipping his first day completely.
"Fuck this", he muttered to himself. He wasn't going to let something as pathetic as first day nerves glue him to the spot like a scared child. As quickly as he had noticed it, he swallowed down the nervousness, ashamed it had even manifested. At Olympus you stood and faced your problems, you never ran from them. Besides, if he skipped his first day, he didn't want to imagine how his father would react. For as tough as Percy tried to be, his father was still so much scarier than any other person he knew, and he wasn't insecure enough to deny the man could scare the living daylights out of him. Taking one final look around the alien area, and admiring the sports cars that adorned the parking bays in front of the school, Percy began to ascend the imposing white steps. He briefly pulled out his old phone to check the time – 8:14. As he fumbled around putting it back in his pocket, he felt the cool metal of the knife. He slowly shoved it down as far as it would go. Knowing his luck, they'd ask him to empty out his pockets straight away. He decided to cross that bridge if he got to it, and slowly sauntered off down the hallway in search of the principal's office.
The hallways were ridiculously clean, gleaming as if every nook and cranny had been polished. The pale grey floor and lockers blended in with the white walls, and made the whole place feel a bit like a hospital. There was the occasional poster up promoting a club or start of year event, but it was eerily silent. Yancy had only ever been silent at night, when the janitors had been doing the late rounds, and Percy only knew that because he and his friends had frequently snuck back in to cause some kind of trouble for the teachers (rats in the desk drawers had been a particular favourite). No, at Yancy there was always some kind of noise in the background, it buzzed with pent up energy, but walking through the halls of Goode right now, Percy would've heard a pin drop. Occasionally he would meander past a classroom full of students, peering in out of curiosity. They all seemed to be glued to the teacher, or heads down and working. Great, a whole school of brainiacs, Percy was sure he would lose his mind within the day. Eventually he turned a corner, still with absolutely no bearings on where he was going, when he saw a deep brown door with the word 'Principal' in fancy gold letters, at least he hoped that's what it said (his dyslexia did tend to act up with fancy letters). He checked his phone one final time – 8:19. Twenty minutes late was pushing it a bit on his first day, but he could hardly go back in time now. He slipped the phone back into his pocket, and remembered the knife one more time. There was no point in backing out now, and without a second thought, Percy raised his hand and knocked lightly on the door.
It was opened a few seconds later by a short woman with a big bushy hair and a friendly smile. She was wearing a plain brown shirt adorning a big name badge with the name Mrs. Wheeler written across it, at least that was Percy's best guess, that or Mrs. Wheelie. The badge, combined with her expectant stance, made her look like she worked in a shop.
"How can I help you?" she spoke with a thick Midwestern accent and never broke her happy grin.
"I'm Percy Jackson, the, uh, new student" he just assumed they'd been expecting him, but Mrs. Wheeler's eyes had a vacant quality to them, like she wasn't entirely present in their conversation.
"Oh isn't that nice," she beamed, suddenly swinging the door wide open, "why don't you come and wait in here, I'm sure Mr. D will be with you shortly."
Without speaking, Percy drifted into the room, and gazed around at the mini waiting room. Just like the rest of the school, it was incredibly clean looking, with filing cabinets making up two of the walls and a little brown desk covered in trinkets. Mrs. Wheeler made her way back to the seat, while Percy sat down in a plain old school chair up against the opposite wall. There was a door opposite the one he had just come through, which he assumed was the actual principal's office, and wondered how long he would be waiting for it to open. The room was completely silent, apart from Mrs. Wheeler's slow typing. Occasionally she would use a pencil to scratch in her beehive, even leaving one to sit there for a minute as she typed away at something, the whole time with that same vacant expression she'd stared at Percy with. The minutes ticked by, but he didn't want to check his phone; there was an uncomfortable silence that lay heavy in the room, and Percy was afraid if he moved a muscle it would only get worse. Street fights he could handle, but this deep awkwardness was a bit much even for him. The white walls felt oddly overbearing, and he could almost make out dots moving about on them, just at the edge of his vision. He was sure he was going insane when finally a machine buzzed on Mrs. Wheeler's desk and a disinterested voice crackled through it, breaking the silence and jolting Percy back into the moment.
"Okay Grace, send him through now." Mrs. Wheeler turned her absent minded face back to Percy.
"Mr D. will see you now," she said, and nodded towards the door before turning back without a second glance. Slowly, Percy rose from his seat and made his way to the door. Without knocking, he pushed it open and stepped into a much darker room than he'd just been in.
The blinds were drawn slightly, casting noir-like shadows across the dark brown walls and deep green carpet. As Percy looked around, he thought to himself how different this room was to the principal's office he had frequently visited at Yancy. It was neat, clean and well organised, not like the mess that Percy was used to. Whereas Yancy's old principal had to deal with multiple incidents per day, and often had papers strewn across the surfaces and floors, this office gave the impression that this Mr. D was the only person who was ever in here. Percy could see thin layers of dust on bookcases, filing cabinets and the windowsill. Yes, this room was definitely not used to disturbances.
Right in the middle of all this immaculate decorating was an impressively carved brown desk, with a short plump man sat in a huge deep purple chair, hunched over some papers, paying no mind to Percy. So this was Mr. D. When you imagine the principal of a school as reputable as Goode, he was about as far away from that as he could be. With his sleek jet-black hair and scraggly beard, he probably wouldn't look out of place at Olympus. He wore an expensive black suit with purple shirt and tie. The whole look didn't quite fit him, which given his size was saying something; it looked as if it all needed a good iron. He slowly raised his head, and Percy suddenly felt his startlingly purple eyes boring into him. They were slightly bloodshot and had a trace of anger in them, and it distracted significantly from his rosy cheeks and red nose. He had the look of a man who had enjoyed a few too many glasses of wine for a few too many days in a row, and would've looked more at home in the local bar than a principal's office. Percy had certainly never met a teacher quite as immediately intimidating as this.
"Sit" was all he uttered, gesturing to a chair placed opposite him. He gazed at Percy almost carelessly, like he really couldn't be bothered to have this conversation right now, yet there was also a confidence to how he sat in his chair, like he'd already analysed Percy the moment he walked into the room, and wouldn't be caught out by anything. Slowly (you might even say timidly), Percy descended into the school chair, Mr. D's purple eyes never leaving him.
"Percy Jackson, I assume?" he flicked a pen between his fingers as he spoke.
"Yes," Percy replied, before quickly adding "…sir." A word he usually reserved solely for Poseidon, but something about Mr. D's presence made it feel appropriate. For his part, he didn't seem at all bothered.
"I trust you found the school okay?"
"Yes sir," he replied again, wondering when the anger at his lateness would come. Maybe he'd got lucky and Mr. D had forgotten, although something about his tone again gave a stronger impression that he simply didn't care.
"So Percy," his eyes boring into Percy's, "this is the part of this induction where I tell you how happy we are to have you, and what a wonderful school we have here and blah blah blah. I'm really not in the mood this morning, so let's just pretend I've already given you the whole speech, okay?" He asked, but it wasn't really a question. He spoke with such a frank boredom that it caught Percy off guard, and the way he'd sarcastically emphasized his praises of the school almost seemed tinged with contempt. Usually teachers at least pretended to care. Percy couldn't keep the smile off his face, but it didn't pass under Mr. D's radar.
"Something amuse you?" he grumbled, his little bloodshot balls of anger glaring out of his chubby cheeks. Percy never broke eye contact, refusing to be intimidated by this man.
"I just assumed a principal would care about stuff like that," he didn't make his tone snarky, but it was still risky to talk back the principal this early into the day. Mr. D just grinned slightly before leaning back into his chair, the purple in his shirt practically melting into the giant purple headrest. When he spoke, he actually sounded more jovial.
"If you must know, I have a hangover." He didn't mince his words, did he? Percy couldn't even comprehend a teacher talking this way to a student, let alone the principal of one of the city's finest schools. There was something amusing about it, and Percy found himself quipping back – an even riskier play than talking back.
"You're the principal, and you got drunk before the first day of a new year?" he kept his tone light. Despite the brazen nature of the comment, there was something about Mr. D that made him feel at ease, an up-front honesty that was rare in a person, but valued highly at Olympus. It paid off, as Mr. D broke into his first proper smile, although the anger bubbling behind his eyes never seemed to dissipate.
"That's the reason I got drunk," he replied, chuckling to himself as if remembering last night's haziness. Well, this was certainly the strangest conversation Percy had ever had with a teacher before, and very possibly any adult. He didn't laugh, but did give an almost nervous smile, unsure exactly how to respond. For as unbothered as Mr. D had been so far, Percy wasn't about to start chatting about his own drinking habits, that was a step too far into uncomfortableness. As he leaned back into his chair, the fat principal began to click his tongue, his gaze shifting to the thin beams of light shining breaking through his blinds. Percy sat in the uncomfortable silence for a few moments before speaking up.
"So do I have a timetable or something?" He really wasn't sure what else to do, he never anticipated a meeting like this. Mr. D kept his eyes to the window for a moment, before turning back to Percy with that same piercing expression.
"Okay, I'm gonna level with you right now, because you aren't like any of the other students here", he sounded honest, composed, far more assured and intelligent than his outward exterior would suggest. "This school is full of promising young ladies and gentlemen from New York's finest families, and they're either arrogant little shits who think they're untouchable, or pathetic grovelers afraid that one bad word from me will cut their monthly allowance in half." He paused for a moment, as if picturing some of his least favourite students.
"They sound right up my alley" Percy muttered, earning a wry chuckle from Mr. D as he sat back.
"Honestly, they bore me to death, and their parents even more so. These people don't live in the real world, which makes it hell on earth for those of us that do when we have to deal with them. I'm sick of them all, which is why I was very much looking forward to meeting you." Percy had listened to him rant, slightly unsure where it was all going, but was glued into the conversation now. Mr. D continued. "As far as students go, you are a complete anomaly in the history of Goode High. You come from a completely different world to your new classmates, and being completely frank, we've never had a student of your background here before, so-"
"You mean I'm some little poor kid? I don't fit the 'profile'?" Percy suddenly snapped, instantly irritated at the mention of his home. He couldn't help it, and knew it probably wasn't his wisest move when the anger from Mr. D's eyes seems to spread to his whole face. He didn't look furious, but he did look menacing, reaffirming to Percy that he was still the adult in the room, and the principal no less.
"No, I mean your little gang, Percy" Mr. D said calmly, his voice still that slightly apathetic drawl. Percy must've looked shocked or defensive, because the man smiled widely and chuckled under his breath, revealing a set of wine stained teeth. "Yes, I know all about your little friends and what you liked to get up to at your last school, and out of school for that matter. Under any normal circumstances a school like Goode wouldn't touch you with a ten foot barge pole. It is solely down to my own good graces that you're even in this room right now."
"Your thank you's in the mail…" Percy muttered back quietly, causing the principal's smile to drop instantly and the anger to spread through the chubby cheeks.
"Listen kid, if you wanna play that game, I'll fucking play with you" Percy was again shocked at his swearing. Coming from a teacher it just sounded so much harsher. "If you wanna talk shit and try and piss me off, I can make your life hell for the next year. You think you had it bad at your last place? I'll make you wish you were going to school in Guantanamo fucking Bay!" his anger was contained, but raging, and Percy instantly knew he wasn't joking around. He'd gotten pretty used to reading people at Olympus, especially angry, aggressive people, and right now Mr. D looked like he was running on a very short fuse. There was a slight manic gleam in his eyes, and his composed posture was only helping so much in making him look calmer than he sounded. Percy didn't want to break eye contact, treating this stand off like they were wolves in the wild asserting dominance, but he slowly nodded his head in deference. He never looked away, but the understanding passed between them. Percy hated backing down, but at the same time he knew when to pick his battles, and right now getting in the bad books of a man like Mr. D wasn't worth it. The anger from the principal's face faded slightly, but it still lingered enough for Percy to remain on edge.
"As I was saying," he continued, "we aren't used to having a student with your background. Frankly, your behavior record almost impressive. I imagine you spent more time in the principal's office than out of it." He chuckled, and Percy couldn't help but think how accurate it was. Barely a day went by when he wasn't called up for something or other, whether he even did it or not.
"Yeah, I guess" he muttered in response, careful not to try and sound snide.
"Well that won't be happening here." Mr. D said matter-of-factly, "If I have to see any student more than is absolutely necessary, I lose my patience very quickly. That's not even mentioning the angry parents I'll have to deal with if a new troublemaker starts messing with teachers and disrupting the classes. They may be annoying assholes, but they pay a lot of money for their kids to come here, and more importantly they pay me a lot of money to run this school. No, I will not deal with that kind of shit from you. So that's the one thing I want to make absolutely crystal clear, so that when you leave this office there's no confusion. Stay out of trouble; you do that for me, and your short time with us will be over before you know it. I can't promise you'll enjoy it, it'll probably bore you to death, but you'll certainly be in my good books." Percy pondered his words, actually appreciating what seemed to be sincerity. When he actually thought about it, the idea of messing around in school didn't seem as fun without his friends, and he highly doubted he'd find many similar characters in these classrooms. Maybe it wouldn't be so hard to stay out of trouble, and he didn't need Mr. D to warn him of anything, Percy could already tell he was the type of man you didn't want to make a habit out of seeing. He suddenly remembered the knife sitting deep in his pocket, it looked like that was where it would be staying for the year. He nodded his head again, and Mr. D sat back slightly, looking about as close to happy as it was probably possible for him to (which was still pretty angry looking). When he spoke again, most of his underlying aggression was toned down.
"You know, you're the most refreshing student I've ever had walk through that door. You deal with this spoilt brats so long you start to think that all teenagers are like that. I mean they're so vacuous, so clean cut; I swear half of them are engineered in a lab. They bore me to tears some days, 'Yes Mr. D' 'No Mr. D' 'It won't happen again Mr. D'" he put on a silly, high pitched voice for the imitation, and Percy couldn't not find it amusing, even if his face betrayed nothing. "You've given me hope, reminded me that teenagers can still be rude little assholes, that they can still hate their teachers to their faces. Do you know how long I've been begging for a student to talk back to me? These kids have absolutely no backbone, but you, you're from the real world. You know how things really are, so I'm not going to treat you like I do them. I'm gonna be honest with you, if I'm not being up front with you, I'd be wasting my time. Don't confuse my anger for dislike; every indication says I shouldn't have let you in here, but I have, and at least right now, I feel like I've made the right decision. You may prove to be more trouble than you're worth, but that's up to you now." It was a strange tirade, and left Percy feeling slightly confused. He'd never had a teacher be that up front with him before, and he wasn't sure quite how to respond. Thinking back, he did sort of appreciate how straightforward the principal had been throughout their meeting, even in his anger. It had gotten the message across to Percy more effectively than any typical schooling methods would have, and in a strange way, his words had slowly built up Percy's confidence in himself and his upbringing. He had experienced a reality so different from anyone else in this school, but instead of adopting a mindset of inferiority, he was beginning to see how it had actually prepared him well for the real world, at least in some aspects. For the first time that morning, Percy suddenly saw a glimpse of a real teacher in Mr. D, instilling confidence in his own unique way. There was one thing still bugging him though.
"Mr. D, sir, if I'm more trouble than I'm worth, why take the chance? I mean, what am I actually doing here?" It had been on his mind all morning, in fact it had been on his mind pretty much since his father had told him the previous week. It was all well and good him being given the opportunity, but what was in it for the school? Goode hardly seemed like a place that bothered with community outreach and goodwill, Mr. D himself hardly appeared to care about the school or its students, so why take the risk in the first place.
"Well, honestly, because your father asked me to. He and I go back a ways, so you can look at this as a sort of favour I'm doing for him." What surprised Percy wasn't just that it was his father's doing – he'd sort of assumed his father's influence had just found its way to the right people – but that Poseidon and Mr. D were friends.
"You were friends with him?" Percy asked incredulously, causing the principal to grin.
"I like to think we still are. He came to me, we talked about you and your opportunities, and he felt that you should get the best possible education for your final year, so that you can 'better your life in the future'; his words, not mine." If it hadn't have been for Mr. D's consistent candidness all morning, Percy would never have believed him. His father had rarely even taken in interest in him, so the idea he was thinking ahead to Percy's future was almost laughable. His skepticism must've been showing, because Mr. D shrugged slightly. "Believe me or not, he asked for me to see what I could do, and that he'd appreciate it if I could get you in for senior year, in that way he does where it feels more like an order than a request. It was a pretty easy choice, your father isn't somebody I want to get on the bad side of." Percy could hardly blame him of that. Just as he'd recognised when to stand down to Mr. D, he was pretty sure everybody who met his father worked out pretty quickly who the alpha was.
"Even at the risk of pissing off all the parents?" Percy joked lightly.
"I'd rather face a hundred angry parents armed with pitchforks than your father, every day of the week." This time there was no smile on Mr. D's face, no joking around. Percy always knew that his father scared people, but he never realised just how much power his father truly had until now. It went beyond the local estate, Mr. D was clearly a well-paid, educated man who would be unlikely to ever even need to set foot in Olympus, as well as being a fairly intimidating man himself, and yet here he was, openly telling Percy how much his father terrified him. Percy had always been scared of him, but when you're a child on Olympus a lot of things scare you. The fact that that same fear was laced in the voice of a grown man, a principal of a school, even a self-proclaimed friend of Poseidon's, spoke volumes about the type of reputation his father had. So why, after seventeen years of doing the bare minimum, had he finally flexed that power to benefit his son? Percy wasn't sure whether he appreciated it; he didn't want to be in this school, he wanted to be around his friends. It was just typical of his relationship with Poseidon that even when he is actually doing something for his son, he still manages to be a frustration.
"It was just that then?" He asked, inquisitively.
"Percy, I owe it to your father to try and get the best out of you, but I wouldn't take on any student like this unless I thought they were worth it. After our conversation this morning, I think you are. There may be untapped potential in you yet." Mr. D added. That completely caught Percy off guard. No teacher had ever said anything of the sort to him before. He wasn't sure what exactly it was he'd done to give Mr. D that impression, but it was perhaps the best compliment he'd ever gotten from someone that wasn't his mother. "But you didn't hear that from me," the principal added, before pulling out a single sheet of paper. Suddenly the shrill school bell rang, and Percy could faintly make out the hustle and bustle of students in the hallways even from the office.
"Looks like you're right on time. Now let's see, your next class is-" he paused as he looked at Percy's new timetable "-Math, with Mrs. Dodds." He seemed to smirk a bit at that "Good luck with her" he added, passing the sheet over to Percy.
"Thank you, sir" Percy examined the paper, understanding what he read about as much as he understood French.
"Grace can tell you how to get there, I'm sure you can make your way around for the rest of the day. If you need to talk to me, let Grace know and she'll sort it out, but do try and keep it to a minimum" Mr. D was back to sounding bored, the plain old apathetic principal. Percy had just reached the door when Mr. D called him one last time.
"Oh and Percy," The boy turned, and was once again met with the bloodshot balls of fury, "if you're ever eighteen minutes late to a meeting with me again I will rip your fucking head off." His voice was calm and steady, but it got the message across to Percy. To be fair, his whole intention with being late was to see how much leniency he would get, and he it looked like it was a big fat zero. He nodded at the man one final time before stepping out of the office and back into Mrs. Wheeler's little waiting room. It was perhaps the strangest conversation Percy had ever had, and despite seeming to be on Mr. D's good side, he was thrilled to finally be out of the room.
As he once again meandered down the pristine grey corridors, Percy was still in no rush. He'd caught a glimpse of some students, but the hallways were close to empty by the time he had left Mrs. Wheeler, and her directions were hardly clear as day, so Percy kept his pace slow, trying to navigate his way to class. He assumed he was still safe for another few minutes, after all it was his first day, and while Mr. D had told him not to be late to a meeting with him again, he hadn't said anything about being late to boring old class. As he walked, Percy thought about his old school, his old friends, his life back at home. At Yancy, he'd been largely carefree and he hadn't even realised it until now. At Goode he already felt like an outsider, and he hadn't even met anyone yet. Sure, Mr. D had given some surprisingly encouraging words, and some of them had even resonated a bit, but as he looked around at this new environment, something just didn't feel right. He wasn't used to being somewhere that took school so seriously, and suddenly his slow pace, scruffy clothes and general attitude all felt more glaringly obvious than they had before he entered the building. In one of the larger hallways, Percy walked past a trophy cabinet, adorned with all sorts of sports trophies and achievements the school had won. Clearly that extra funding and fees paid to get into a place like this were worth it. Yancy never had anything like this, kids didn't care enough about school activities, and any trophies that might've been won would've probably been stolen the next day anyway. As Percy examined the silverware behind the glass, he worked out that Goode had a very good football team, with more than half the trophies belonging to them, as well as pictures of pig physical looking boys posing for team photos. Percy briefly remembered hearing talk around town of a few good sports prospects coming from here.
He pondered whether or not he should try out for the team, if that was even something he could do, but in a second erased that thought. Sure, Percy liked football, he watched it whenever he could, which was rare, and played whenever he could too, which was even rarer. When he was younger he'd been really into it, and while he'd still consider himself to be athletic his life at Olympus meant there wasn't much time for sports. He thought about how his friends would mock him if he were to ever think of doing such a thing. Percy Jackson playing high school football. The jokes would be relentless.
That was the kind of people Percy hung out with. To the outside world, they were gang members, juvenile delinquents on a fast track to nowhere, but to Percy, they were more like brothers, family. Some of them really were family. He had a half-brother on his father's side, Tyson, and a cousin, Nico. Outside of them, there was also Grover, Percy's oldest and best friend. Grover had always been what Olympus would consider weak; he scared easily, and was one of the least confrontational people you'd ever meet. Grover wasn't really about that life like the rest of them were, but he had been raised on the estate just like Percy and all the other guys, and they all went to efforts to look out for their friend over the years. That was what no one understood about Percy and his friends. Outsiders branded them as reckless, violent thugs, and there were definitely times when they deserved to be labeled that way, but they weren't all bad all the time. When they needed each other, they came through, no matter what it was; it really was like an extra family.
After turning a corner for what felt like the tenth time that morning, Percy finally arrived outside the correct room. Just like everything else in this school, the door was grey, and it's small window showed a picture of a full class already seated, a small woman standing at the whiteboard. Percy paused. This was his final chance, he could run right now. He could leave the school and head straight back to the estate. No doubt Nico was skipping school, he usually did nowadays. They could hang together, and Percy could sack off this eerie grey prison and kick back for the rest of the year, maybe start working for his father right away. But then, Percy thought about his mother's reaction, disappointment no doubt, and then his father's, obviously fury. Just like Mr. D, Percy knew he didn't want to face that, and disappointing his mother would almost be worse. He knew he put her through hell with worry some nights, and every time felt worse than the last. To then pile flunking school on top of all her other worries would be plain cruel. Then he remembered Mr. D's words, his apparent confidence in Percy to survive at this school. A small part of him wanted to see if the principal was right, not so much to please the man, but to really see for himself. He'd handled much tougher situations than this before, after all, he was an Olympian. So with that knife lodged deep down in his pocket, out of his reach and out of his mind, Percy confidently knocked, before pushing the door open and walking into class.