Percy

If anyone ever walks up to you saying something like, "Being a demigod sounds cool!" or, "I wish my life were that interesting," then you ignore every other opinion they have because they are wrong. And if you somehow think you might be one yourself, then, good luck– because you're gonna have a bad time.

For the record, my name is Percy Jackson; I'm eleven, and up until a few months ago my brother and I were just a couple of troublemakers in upstate New York going to Yancy Academy, a.k.a.: the School for troublemakers.

If I'm being honest I was the only one making trouble, Cai just got dragged around because of it. He was the one making sure I didn't cause too much trouble. Not that it helped. There's not much anyone can do to stop an eleven-year-old from firing a cannonball into a school bus, or letting a bunch of sharks outside an aquarium, but he tries his best.

Sometimes, though, I'm not even the one starting the trouble, like the time our sixth-grade class took a field trip to a museum in Manhattan.

I have no idea what our teachers were thinking, a group of troubled kids going to a museum just so they can look at a bunch of statues of some Greek and Roman dudes. Did they expect us to be excited about it? I guess it was a break from all the boring classes and droning teachers, so there's a plus.

Mr. Brunner's not so bad, though. He teaches our Latin classes and was the lead teacher of the trip– he was also just about the only teacher I liked, to be honest.

It helped that he let us play games in his class, too. He does this thing sometimes where he makes a big spectacle of the myths he liked to tell; plus, he had a mini armory full of Greek and Roman gear that was honestly the coolest thing I've seen a teacher have.

I was on thin ice though: if things didn't go smoothly during this field trip and I happened to be the problem for any bumps on the road, then all I could really do was kiss Yancy Academy goodbye. But I didn't want my mom to have to spend time and money looking for another school that would accept me and drag Cai along, again, so I decided I would try to be on my best behavior.

This was probably the only reason I put up with Nancy Bobofit trying her greatest to be annoying by throwing chunks of food at my best friend, Grover.

To be honest, though? Grover was just too-easy a target: scrawny build, cried a lot when things got frustrating, probably got held back at least a couple of grades– and he's got enough acne and a beard for it to be true. Not to mention that he was crippled, and the only time he participated in any type of physical activity was when it was racing to enchilada day at the cafeteria.

But even with all of that, Grover has been my greatest friend across all the schools I've been to. So it was more than a little bit frustrating to watch Nancy exhaust her supply of food just to throw lunch at my friend.

"I'll kill her at some point," I mumbled.

"Chill out, man," Grover said. "Besides, I like peanut butter and jelly." An apple came hurling past us in the same instant.

That's about when I had enough. I made to get up and make her stop but before I could really get to her, Grover yanked me back into my seat on the bus. "You're already on probation, Percy. If you start anything now then you'll be a goner for sure and it isn't just Cai you'll end up disappointing if that happens."

I understood what he was saying, I really did, and it's the only reason I hadn't decked Nancy in the face yet, but it still felt like I got hit with a low blow.

-BREAK-

gave us a tour around the museum. The way he was pointing to stuff left and right made me wonder if he had worked here before or if just really knows his stuff. Like some super Greco-Roman history buff. Can cripples get buff? does look like he curls fifty-pound dumbbells or something. I wouldn't doubt it, but it does seem kind of weird to say out loud:

"My favorite teacher is a super buff history buff who teaches Latin in his motorized wheelchair." Yeah, only a little weird.

A lot of the stuff Mr. Brunner was showing us was honestly pretty interesting. There was a painting of a bunch of horse dudes stacked up on each other like they failed in their attempt to form a mega-horse. I asked Mr. Brunner about it, and he looked like he was about to give me a life lesson. I soon wish I could've been wrong.

"This painting depicts the Battle of Lapith, a struggle between the human warrior tribe known as the Lapiths and the Centaurs of Thessaly. The story behind the painting portrays the indomitable strength and skill of the hero Caeneus; A hero said to possess invulnerability outclassing even Hercules himself.

"He was instrumental in defeating a greater portion of the centaur effort. It was only due to his overconfidence in his strength that Caeneus later died suffocating after he was buried in an orchard of trees thrown at him by his enemies."

Mr. Brunner turned back to me. "Let this be a lesson, Mr. Jackson, overconfidence has been the fall of many, don't let it be yours," he said.

"Uhhh. Right. I'll make sure to avoid getting treed by horse dudes in the future, then."

He gave me a look that totally said 'He missed the point entirely,'

but I'm not really sure what he was expecting. If we're really being honest, even if a guy who could do that existed, I'd have no business fighting them in the first place.

" Come along now, Percy, there is a particular piece of work I had wanted to share with the class today."

After quieting the rest of the class, Mr. Brunner gathered us around a big stone column with a big sphinx on the top and started telling us about the different carvings on the side. It looked like it had a bunch of paintings and pictures on it, too.

I was trying to listen to what Mr. Brunner was telling us, but it was kind of hard to pay attention when Nancy Bobofit and her group of idiots kept going on about the most mundane crap.

At some point, I got really tired of not being able to hear what Mr. Brunner was saying so I whipped my head around and said, " Will you guys shut up?"

That definitely came out louder than I wanted it to, because every kid around me started laughing. Even worse than that, Mr. Brunner stopped his story to call me out.

"Did you have a comment, Mr. Jackson?" Mr. Brunner asked, quirking an eyebrow.

I really have the worst luck sometimes.

"No sir," I mumbled.

Mr. Brunner pointed to one of the pictures on the stone. "Perhaps you'll tell us what this picture on the stele represents?"

I looked at the carving for a quick second, and relief washed over me, because for once I actually did know something a teacher asked me. "That's Kronos eating his kids right? Zeus and Poseidon– the gods." Mr. Brunner nodded and motioned for me to continue.

"He… uh. He didn't trust them for some reason so he decided he would eat them so that they wouldn't have to worry about them anymore. But his wife didn't like that so she took her youngest kid… Zeus, I think… and replaced him with a rock before Kronos ate him, and she sent Zeus away so he could get stronger and beat his dad. And then later on he returned and tricked his dad into throwing up his brothers and sisters–"

"Ew!" one of the girls behind me interrupted.

"- And after they escaped, the war between the Titans and the gods started." I continued, "And the gods won."

Behind me, Nancy was saying something about 'how this could possibly matter in the real world,' and to be honest, I was sort of wondering the same thing.

"To paraphrase Miss Bobofit's question, Mr. Jackson. How exactly does this story relate to the real world?" asked.

How did he hear that?

"Busted," Grover muttered.

"Shut up," Nancy hissed, her face an even brighter red than her hair.

That made me feel slightly better about interrupting Mr. Brunner earlier.

I looked up to still looking at me expectantly, but all I could really say was "I don't know sir."

"I see," he said, looking pretty disappointed. "Half credit, Mr. Jackson. Ending our lesson on that note, I believe it's time for lunch. If you would please lead us out, Mrs. Dodds."

Mrs. Dodds' mean mugged me as she led us outside.

"I swear I wouldn't be surprised if somehow she turned out to be some sort of Percy-eating monster in disguise," I said.

Grover just turned to me with the most serious face I've seen on him and said, "You have no idea dude."

Just as we made our way to the entrance doors, Mr. Brunner pulled up next to me and Grover. "You must learn the answer to my question, Perseus."

What'd he have to go and use my government name for?

"About the Titans?" I asked.

"About real life. And how your studies apply to it."

"Oh."

"What you learn from me," he said gravely, "is vitally important and I expect you to treat it as such. I will accept only the best from you, Mr. Jackson."

That got on my nerves. Mr. Brunner could be cool whenever he dressed up in Roman armor and held tournament days to write down the name of every Greek and Roman hero or god that ever mattered on the chalkboard, but he always expected me to be just as good as everyone else— if not better.

But I've never gotten anything above a C on anything academic in my life. Sitting down and studying for stuff always felt impossible because of my ADHD, and when I actually got past it, it was my dyslexia that stopped me in my tracks. It's like I can't win when it comes to school.

This guy pushed me so hard. Him and my brother.

My brother, Cai, is only two years older than me, but the super-growth spurt he got last year basically has him towering over me and just about all of his eighth-grade classmates. If you ask me, his ego probably grew along with him. He's cool and looks out for me, sure, but sometimes he takes the big brother title to another level.

He's always nagging me about taking time to do an assignment correctly or to start a project the same day that it was given. But even when I try and do everything his way, I never get any result better than a C, and I can tell that every single time I'm just disappointing him.

It never really helped that my brother has the same exact issues as I do, but somehow does miles better in school. And just because he can manage it, and every other teacher at school expect me to be able to as well, and think there's something wrong with me when I can't. I wish they just understood that I'm not him.

-BREAK-

The class gathered up on the front steps of the museum so we could eat lunch as we watched traffic pass along Fifth Avenue.

A huge storm was brewing overhead, with clouds blacker than most fumes I've seen billowing out of industrial chimneys. Lightning flashed everywhere like God was in a rave party or something.

Honestly, if someone told me the world was ending and New York was going to mark its beginning, then I wouldn't have batted an eye. Since Christmas, the weather has been going pretty haywire, wildfires starting from random lightning strikes, floods, and huge snowstorms. All we needed now was a hurricane or a tornado and we'd have Mother Nature's equivalent of a full house.

The weird thing about it, though, was that nobody saw the huge cloud forming above us: none of my classmates, not Mrs. Dodds, and definitely not any of the pedestrians in the street. I guess people really just aren't as concerned.

Grover and I sat at the edge of a fountain in the middle of the steps, away from all of our classmates, and farther away from Mrs. Dodds.

I stared at the apple in my hand and sighed, "I wish Mr. Brunner would stop expecting me to be some kind of hidden genius. I mean I'm not my brother, and I'm definitely not going to morph into Jimmy Neutron and start brain blasting all the answers he expects from me." I said.

All I got in response was him pointing at my apple before he asked, "You gonna eat that?"

I rolled my eyes and gave it to him not really expecting that much of an answer from him in the first place.

I didn't even get a bite into my sandwich before Nancy Bobofit appeared in front of us with her friends and dumped her half-eaten lunch right into Grover's lap.

Before I could even think I'd already gotten up in anger, the sound of waves crashing into my ears, a tug in my stomach, and before I knew it Nancy was sitting in the fountain, very drenched and very angry about it.

"Percy pushed me!" she shrieked.

The thing is, though, I don't remember touching her at all.

The kids around me started whispering:

" Did you see-"

"- the water-"

"Yooooooo"

"- like it grabbed her-"

I didn't know what the fuck they were talking about. All I knew was that I was in trouble. Again.

As soon as Mrs. Dodds got done making sure that Nancy was okay, she turned her attention towards me, something that I definitely could have gone without. There was a sort of triumphant fire in her eyes, like she won a secret game that I hadn't been aware we were playing. It was uncomfortable, so in an effort to remove the tension I took the initiative. "So… a month's detention?" I asked.

"Come with me," Mrs. Dodds said bitingly.

"Wait!" Grover said. "It was me. I pushed her."

I stared at him, stunned.

Mrs. Dodds can be pretty fucking scary and Grover isn't at all brave. The fact that he was trying to cover for me meant a lot.

"I don't think so, Mr. Underwood."

"But-"

"You. Will. Stay. Here."

Grover looked at me desperately.

There was no way out and I knew it, I lost whatever game Mrs. Dodds and I had been playing.

"It's okay, man. Thanks for trying, though," I said to him.

"Now, dear," Mrs. Dodds barked at me.

Even from behind me I could tell Nancy had the biggest smirk on her face. I turned around giving her my best kill-you-later-stare.

I turned back to face Mrs. Dodds but somehow she was all the way at the entrance to the museum waiting impatiently.

How'd she get there so fast?

Halfway up the steps to the entrance I glanced back at Grover only to see him cutting glances between Mr. Brunner and Mrs. Dodds as if he was desperately trying to get Mr. Brunner's attention, but Mr. Brunner was too busy reading some novel to notice what was happening.

I looked back towards Mrs. Dodds and now she was at the end of the entrance hall of the museum. Seriously, how did she keep doing that? Is she some kind of character from some horror movie? Are all the lights going to shut off? Is some creepy violin gonna start playing? Am I going to die?

When I finally caught up to her, we were back in the Greek and Roman section of the museum. Some tiny part of me hoped that all I would have to do is buy some replacement clothes for Nancy but it really didn't seem like it, because the only people in the gallery at that moment were me and Mrs. Dodds.

"The game ends here, Perseus Jackson," she said.

"Wait…so we were playing a game?" I blurted out.

Clearly, she wasn't expecting this response, because for a good five seconds all she could do was blink while her head cocked to the side as if trying to understand my question.

"Were your heritage not so evident, I would think you a child of the messenger, to play dumb so convincingly is a feat in and of itself, Perseus. But that is neither the importance nor the purpose of my presence here. Return what you have stolen or face death," she said.

My mind blanked instantly. Did one of my classmates frame me for stealing something? What did she mean when she said "or face death"— that's a pretty harsh punishment for theft, could she get fired for that? Of course, she would get fired, am I stupid or something?

Then suddenly the most bat shit insane thing that could have happened, happened.

Mrs. Dodds grew wings, real wings, wings she started flying with, but it was only when she roared at me, mouth wide open, with very threatening teeth that I got the memo. Mrs. Dodds was a fucking monster.

"Return what you have stolen!" she demanded.

Great. Cool. Fucking Awesome. Mrs. Dodds is a monster that thinks I stole something from her and if I don't give it back she'll kill me. Why is my luck actually so bad?

"So be it, child!" she hissed. "Perhaps you'll recover your memory when your soul stands before the Rich One!"

I figured my odds of getting away from Mrs. Dodds were pretty low, but I scrambled to my feet hoping I could get away, anyway.

I made a break for the entrance hall with hot on my trail. I made it about halfway through, but before I could get any farther she was already right above me getting ready to tear one of her claws right through my throat.

Instinct, luck, or whatever it was saved me as I ducked just barely dodging her attack.

"What ho, Percy!" I heard Mr. Brunner yell.

I frowned at the question; Mrs. Dodds might've been the worst person on the planet at the moment, but it wasn't very nice of Mr. Brunner to call her that.

Before I could question Mr. Brunner's choice of words, a pen came hurtling towards me, hitting me straight on my forehead before dropping right into my hand.

I didn't have time to question the purpose of giving me a pen in a life or death situation, because the second I looked down at the object in my hand, a sword was in its place.

Mrs. Dodds lunged at me again, but this time, for some reason I felt ready.

I sidestepped her attack just barely, feeling my balance shake but my confidence rising. I'd never, ever, fought with a sword before, but something in that moment just clicked for me. The second I managed to steady myself I returned a strike of my own.

The feeling of the sword's blade cleaving through ' flesh felt oddly satisfying.

My attack left a long gash from her stomach to her right shoulder. The moment it seemed like she registered what happened, she screeched the sound echoing throughout the museum. She lasted all of two seconds before she suddenly exploded into a bunch of weird golden dust.

just fucking died… why did monster death smell like rotten eggs?

The sword in my hand hit the ground as I dropped it, the hallway echoing with a clang before silence followed.

"Mr. Brunner!?" I called out.

I whipped my head around in a frenzy hoping someone was there to confirm the fact that my pre-algebra teacher was a monster. But it was just me. I was the only one in the entrance hall.

I looked back at the ground expecting the sword Mr. Brunner had given me to still be there, but all there was his fountain pen in its place. I picked it up shakily and started waving it around to see if it would turn back into a sword but nothing happened.

Did all of that happen or not? Mrs. Dodds's pile of gold dust was still sitting there but there was no sword to go along with it. Was my ADHD acting up more than usual? Did I imagine it all?

Uneasy about it all, I made my way back outside hoping to find Mr. Brunner and question him about what had happened.

When I got outside I found Grover and Nancy standing by one of the pillars beside the entrance doors arguing.

"I hope Mrs. Kerr whipped your butt," Nancy said.

"Who?" I asked.

"Our teacher. Duh!"

"Buzz off, Nancy," Grover said.

Nancy rolled her eyes, muttering, "Whatever, losers," as she walked off.

I furrowed my brows and started recounting all of the teachers on the trip, and then I started counting all of the teachers in our grade, and between all the thinking and counting there was not a single teacher named Mrs. Kerr.

I looked toward Grover and asked who Nancy was talking about.

He blinked and said, "Are you okay Percy, she's been our pre-algebra teacher all year."

I started to get even more uneasy than I had been before.

"If this Mrs. Kerr is our math teacher, then what happened to Mrs. Dodds?" I asked, very aware that I probably just killed her.

Almost as soon as I asked him this Grover's eyes got all shifty. Immediately I knew he was trying to hide something.

"Who?"

"Not cool, man!" I yelled. "This is serious."

Mr. Brunner must have heard me because he came rolling in right behind Grover.

"Is something the matter, Mr. Jackson?" Mr. Brunner asked.

"This is your pen, right?"

"That is correct, though I am unaware of how you managed to get your hands on it."

This threw me for a loop.

"What do you mean? You threw it at me!"

"I don't make it a habit to throw my possessions at my students Mr. Jackson." Mr. Brunner said sternly.

"This pen turned into a sword that I killed Mrs. Dodds with. Who was a monster by the way," I said desperately.

Mr. Brunner fixed me with a gaze full of concern and said, "I worry that your imagination might be too stimulating for your own good, Perseus. Your fixation on my pen is rather worrying and we have had no teacher on our staff by the name of Mrs. Dodds. Perhaps you need a nap to regather your thoughts."

I clenched the pen in frustration. A nap? A NAP? Did he think I was six and not eleven or something?

Mr. Brunner gave a glance to the fist I had balled up and said, "If the pen truly means so much to you, Mr. Jackson, then I am willing to part ways with it and leave it in your hands."

I glared at him.

"Now, I believe, it's about time we head back to the academy, it does seem to be getting rather late."

I don't know how he could tell the time when he didn't have a watch and the sky was full of swirling clouds.

"Run along to the bus now, children," Mr. Brunner said.

"Right…" I said in disbelief.

-BREAK-

I couldn't stop thinking about everything that happened on our way back to Yancy. I know my brain could make pretty big leaps in logic, but it all felt so real, there was no way I could somehow imagine all of that in a matter of minutes. And even if Grover and Mr. Brunner were lying about Mrs. Dodds, not everyone could have forgotten about her. Right?

Maybe Cai can help me figure this out...

Chapter 1 End