Chapter 2

It came as no surprise that to Helena that Percy managed to pass their exam. As she said, the older girl was not stupid, and was, more often than not, unexpectedly brilliant. Granted, Helena wouldn't exactly call a seventy-three on a Latin exam a beacon of brilliance. But, for Percy, it might as well be.

"I told you, I told you," Helena sang out loud, proud of her sister. She managed to shove her exam – marked with a bright red the ninety-seven – deep down in her bag before Percy could even so much as catch a glimpse at it. Percy flushed, looking down as she traced at the crude depictions carved into the desk.

"Good job, Percy," the boy seated behind her sister proclaimed. His name was Grover Underwood and he transferred in around the same time that Mr. Brunner did. A little unsettling, because otherwise the two seemed to share no connection, but despite that, Grover had appeared to have a rather strange case of anxiety; it only ever occurred in Latin class, or, that time when Helena brought in her Greek mythology book and was, well, rather open with her disdain for a select few figures.

He'd been eerily close to hyperventilating. If Helena were any kinder, she would have put her book away in order to soothe his oddly placed nerves. But, despite popular belief, kindness didn't come easy to Helena; not if it came at her expense. Percy was fond of him, though, as he was one of the few nice kids stuck at Yancy – that, and Percy loved herself an underdog. She never thought of it that way, as she was a decent person, but it was true.

Percy liked saving things. Helena couldn't blame her for it, not until she started taking the fall for incidents completely unrelated to them in hopes of securing a friend or two. It never really worked and after a while, well, a few of the kids started peeing their pants anytime they tried to bully her sister into doing something she didn't want to. Funnily enough, Helena had no idea the cause of it. The kids could have genuinely had bladder issues for all that she knew.

"Thanks man," Percy shrugged, doing her best to act nonchalant. Helena could tell she was beaming on the inside. To pass not one, but two exams in a row? In Latin, of all things? Stuff like that rarely happened to Percy. Grover shifted his gaze over to Helena, who realized that she'd been staring at him for a little too long. The two of them made direct eye contact, causing him to flinch and drop his eyes yet again until they firmly rested on his paper.

Percy turned, looking down at it. "Dude," she exclaimed. "What the fu-" A throat cleared at the front of the classroom. Percy froze, then faced Mr. Brunner, who was looking at her as though if unamused. "Crud," Percy finished off lamely. "I meant crud, sir, I swear!"

"I'm sure you did, Miss Jackson," Mr. Brunner nodded. "We've five minutes until the bell rings. You may read and talk quietly among yourselves." He stressed, not even hiding his pointed look at Percy, who went back to blushing uncomfortably. Mr. Brunner was an older man, with light brown hair that went down past his ears, and a neatly trimmed beard. He was stuck in a wheel-chair, not that it mattered, as he was probably the best teacher Yancy Academy had seen in decades. He turned his gaze towards Helena. She'd noted it before, but she'll note it again: his eyes were dark, but old, as if he'd seen too much in his life. She wouldn't be surprised if he had.

Helena decided to turn her attention elsewhere. She opted to pull out Grover's least favorite book. She turned to one of her favorite myths: the story of Eros and Psyche. In moments, Grover's anxiety spiked, and she could feel the weight of it burrow itself into the side of her head. Helena lifted her head. "Can I help you?"

Grover went beet-red, matching his own curly hair. "I – um – no! I was just, um, well, I-"

"Nell," Percy chastised, her voice caught up in a stage whisper. Asking Percy to be quiet was like asking an elephant to be small; in other words, it was an impossible task. A sly look crossed her sister's face. "If anything," she declared, "he could help you. Tell her what you got, man!"

Percy gestured at Grover, who, judging by his face, was close to pissing his pants. Huh, maybe it had been Helena after all, but as Grover swallowed nervously. "I got a – uh, um, a one-hundred…and five."

"Fantastic," Helena praised with gritted teeth. "You did the bonus questions at the bottom, I presume?" Grover bobbed his head up and down. "Wonderful. I did too. I can't help but wonder what it was I got wrong. Would you like to compare?"

Grover gave her the impression that he would rather eat his sleeves than hand over his test results, but much to her surprise, he handed his test over with shaky hands. And then, he ate his sleeves. Not long after that, the bell rang, signaling the end of class. Percy and Helena pretty much had the same classes, except, of course, for our final classes; whereas Percy got stuck in regular math, whereas Helena found herself stuck in the remedial course.

At first glance, it might have seemed like Yancy got their schedules mixed up on this one, but nope. Math was Helena's biggest weakness. She hated it almost as much as she hated her step-father; the more she thought about it, the more the two things seemed to have in common. For example, Helena wouldn't wish either of them on her worst enemy. Percy never gloated about, but she could have if she wanted to. It was the one thing she had above Helena academically speaking, but, then again, there was a chance that Percy was still convinced Yancy had switched their schedules.

Either way, she had the good grace not to bring it up, nor ask for their schedules to be changed. If there was one thing Helena could rely on, it was Percy's inability to handle confrontation. She was shy, in that way, and had a tendency to freeze up. A strange phenomenon of hers considering when Percy was at ease, she could make anyone, and Helena did mean anyone, feel better about themselves. She was a natural comfort to people. In that way, Percy reminded Helena of their mother.

"Damn it, Mrs. Dodds is looking right at me." Percy cursed in her attempt at a hushed whisper. Grover hadn't followed them out, though the two of them were walking fast enough that he might have been just a little behind. He was disabled, something to do with his legs, and forced to rely on a pair of crutches to help him get through the day. "I didn't do my homework last night and I'm pretty sure she knows."

Mrs. Dodds came around the same time as Mr. Brunner, if only a few weeks after him. A harsh looking woman with eyes like a hawk; Helena was thankful it wasn't she who had to deal with her, because Helena was unafraid to make her complaints known. Unlike Percy, who'd let any adult, Gabe excluded, talk down to her as long as the conversation didn't revolve around their mother.

"Miss Jackson," the older woman crooned. "So good to see you in class." She half-glanced at Helena. "Maybe, one day, your sister will be able to join us." Bitch. Helena bit at the inside of her cheek, knowing that if she said something now, her sister would pay the price for it.

She nudged at her sister. "See you later, Perce."

Percy gulped, then walked through the door. Mrs. Dodds looked Helena up and down. A snarl formed on her face, her teeth fang-like. "Sweetie, don't you have a class to get to?" Helena snorted, then walked off, and ignored the guilt wallowing up inside. If she were smarter at math, just a bit more clever, then her sister wouldn't have to face the cunt alone.

The day passed by quickly, and then the next one, and then the one after that was where their story really began to pick up. It was the day of their field trip to a museum out in the city. Mr. Brunner, being their Latin teacher, was to be their guide. Helena and Percy crammed themselves into one of the seats closer to the back; nobody with a brain liked to sit close to the teachers. That didn't stop the idiots from trying, and unfortunately, one of them managed to make it to a seat even further behind Helena and Percy. It was not Grover, who sat behind them, but rather a girl named Nancy Bobofit.

Nancy was red-headed, adorned in freckles, and she used to have a gap in her teeth until her parents forced her into braces. Helena wrinkled her nose, catching site of the food shoved within the metal brackets. Percy hated her guts, considered her an enemy of the highest caliber, right next to Gabe. And thus, out of loyalty towards her sister, Helena hated her too.

For the trip, she had brought with her the book. She'd probably read it about a dozen times over, but it was worth it to see how quickly Grover lost the pink in his cheeks and his skin turned pale with dread. As the bus started to move, Helena decided it was time to prod. "Excited for the trip, Grover?" She asked, beaming up at him in a way that had him shifting; uncomfortable beneath her attention.

"Yeah, totally…" He tried to smile back, but failed, grimacing instead. Percy looked between the two of them, unsure of what to say as she tried to garner what was happening.

"Really? Nothing about this makes you uncomfortable at all? It is a pretty famous history museum: you know, a building with sculptures and paintings and tourists. People love a bit of Greek mythology these days."

Helena leveled at him with hard, prying eyes. He stared back, frozen in fear, and she knew that if she got any closer to him, Grover might just burst out into tears. "Y-Y-Yeah, it's pretty, uh, cool!" He babbled, bobbing his head up and down in an attempt to appease her curiosity.

"Interesting," Helena shrugged, then pulled the book up as if it were a cross and Grover was some sort of vampire. Grover jerked back. "I'm pretty interested in it myself! But, between you and me, I think of myself as being a critic more than anything." Grover looked around the bus, then let out a cross-mix between a scream and a yelp when the bus drove over a pot-hole.

"Jesus, Nell, stop harassing him!" Percy demanded, sending an apologetic expression Grover's way. "He hasn't done anything to you."

"Not yet." Helena said, dropping the book back into her lap. She narrowed her eyes. "But I'm watching you, Grover Underwood, and one day, one day, you're going to slip up. And make no mistake, I will find out whatever it is you're hiding from us."

Percy sighed, as she began to excuse her actions. "I really am sorry about her, man, I know Nell can be pretty intense sometimes." Helena rolled her eyes, but turned back around, and leaned her head up against the window.

"It's fine!" Grover declared, then began to ramble. Helena tuned most of it out, preferring to concentrate on her reading. She wasn't sure when she picked up the habit of seeking out Greek mythology books for comfort, but she did, though, unfortunately, most of them were far from comforting. And the ones that involved her father often had her feeling a bit queasy. She'd never been able to look at horses the same, which sucked, because Helena really did want to learn how to ride them. She just couldn't do it without remembering that her father turned into one for the purpose of fucking, or rather raping, his sister.

Helena spent a lot of time repeating her favorite mantra: it's been like five thousand years, it's been like five thousand years, it's been like five thousand years. It didn't work as much as she would have liked.

It's not as if she could talk to her mother about it. Sally had no idea about Helena's hobby on the side. She'd lose her mind, well, not really, but she would be far from pleased. It wasn't like Sally had forbidden them from seeking it out, but Helena was a good enough daughter to not want her mother to worry. She spent too much of her time already doing that. Besides, what would she even say to Helena, 'I know it's strange, but he's your father and I'm pretty sure he loves you? So, you know, forgive and forget.'

Helena would have though more on it, were it not for the piece of wet food launched from the back of the bus and managed to find its way into her hair. The bus went quiet, watching as Helena poked and prodded until she found a piece soggy sandwich bread smeared in not just peanut butter, but ketchup too. "What a revolting waste of food," Helena murmured, quiet enough that only Percy and Grover managed to hear.

"I swear to God I'm going to kill her," Percy hissed, keeping her fists clenched and tucked away at her sides. "She's been throwing that shit at Grover since we left the academy. How many fucking sandwiches does she even have?"

Grover sniffed, inhaling the fumes of about forty, sweaty preteens. "Four…well, four and a half now." Helena looked at him, then looked at Percy, and then looked at Grover again. Percy took it in stride, letting her friend's eccentricities roll right off her shoulders.

"Considering she's gone quiet," Helena noted, "I doubt she intended for it to hit me." An easy mistake, Helena could admit, for she had a lot of hair. Loose, black curls that spiraled out, spanning the width of her shoulders, before tumbling down towards her elbows: it was thick, voluminous, and Helena's favorite thing about her appearance. Percy's was similar, but she kept it cropped a lot shorter, closer to her shoulders. A minor difference between the two of them, considering most other people continued to mistake Percy for Helena and Helena for Percy – regardless of whatever they did to their hair.

For example, the obnoxiously large bow Helena had strung up in her air earlier that morning; it was a dull shade of gold and covered in an obnoxious amount of sparkles. She was insistent on taking advantage of the fact she was now an eleven year old girl. Her sister never bothered to do anything of the sort. Percy was a bit more laid-back in the looks department; never bothering to tuck in her shirt, preferring to wear uniform trousers over the uniform skirts, and not to mention, the chipped bits of nail-polish slathered on every other nail. It didn't help that she bit at them, gnawed the tips of her fingers right down to the nub.

"Don't do it, Percy, don't kill her," Helena warned, taking Percy's threat as if it were serious. Percy's thumb was already tucked up within her mouth; the nail there hadn't lived a long nor even good life, but just like that, the top half of it was gone. "You're on probation. Yancy won't hesitate to kick you out, probably even me for good measure. She'll get what's coming to her; the universe has its ways."

Percy nodded, satisfied by Helena's response. Grover, in turn, garnered a disturbed look across his face, as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. Helena couldn't blame him. She probably would have been a bit concerned herself, if not for the knowledge she knew in regards to their situation. In her eyes, she was above the likes of Nancy Bobofit, and looking at her the same as she would a rat did wonders for her moral compass.

Helena threw the piece of bread out the window, smearing the excess against the side of the seat. Something big was going to happen today. Helena didn't know what it was exactly, but she could feel it right down to the bone. She could only do her best to survive, and hope to live yet another day.