About time, yeah? I put up a one-shot the other day, but I decided I'd better get to work on an actual chapter... in case you weren't aware, my excuse for not updating since people watched black-and-white TV and hunted dinosaurs (I may have stolen that line from a PJO book) is that I've been in my school's play, which opens pretty soon, but I'm actually on spring break right now so I get a rest :)

Thanks to expa, KeyOfNostalgia, and Insane PJO LOver for reviewing the last chapter from many moons ago. (If you reviewed and I forgot you, I'm sorry, but it's been so long since I updated I even forgot how many chapters there were in this story. xD But I thank you too.) And I also thank the lurking readers for reading, even though I would really like some feedback from you too!

A character from the dawn of time (actually, chapter 2) is re-appearing for this chapter, so if you don't remember chapter 2, you might be the tiniest bit confused with this one. Luckily for you, there is an option to go back to Chapter 2 if you need a refresher. (I know I did, and I'm the one who wrote it!)


So, fourth grade is stupid. I figured that out really quick. The teacher made us write with cursive for everything. I couldn't even read cursive, forget about writing it! It was all rumply and curly and made me think of spaghetti. When I tried to write in cursive, I was frustrated, confused, and hungry. Because of the spaghetti thing.

I think it was my dyslexia that made me not be as good at cursive as everyone else. For a while, at the start of the year, the teacher would get mad at me for not being able to write the letters, and when I got home I told Mom about it. She said she'd "explain things," and after that I didn't get lectured as much about how I should hold my pencil different to make my writing better.

Notice I said as much. I'd still get looks once in a while that said No, I totally do not approve of you, Percy Jackson although no one said it out loud.

I sat alone at lunch. I didn't really care that I didn't have friends, but it was kind of awkward sometimes. Besides, the one day I didn't sit alone had been bad.

While I was eating my sandwich, alone, a girl came up to me and tapped me on the shoulder. I didn't know who she was, so I ignored her. I guess I know now that that might have not been the best thing to do, but I thought she was going to make fun of me.

"Hey," she said, still tapping my shoulder. "Hey. Hey. Hey."

Finally I turned around. "What?"

"Do I know you?" she asked.

"No," I said, and I went back to my food.

"Yeah, I do," she said, and she crossed her arms.

"But I don't know you," I said. "So you can't know me either."

"Yeah, you do!" she said. She sounded a little mad now. "My mom was in your mom's wedding. And I was too. My name's Isabelle."

I was about to say that I didn't know anyone named Isabelle and there was no one's mom in my mom's wedding and she should really just leave me alone when I remembered her. She hit me. And she made me lose the rings. And she wouldn't let me throw flowers, although I wasn't really sure why I wanted to throw flowers anyway. That was too girly for me. So instead, I said something real smart like "Uh."

"You're just as stupid as I remember you," she said. "Your name's something weird like Patty, isn't it?"

"It's Percy," I said. "And I thought you said you were going to be famous."

She glared at me. "I am. Just not yet. I'm ten and my mom says if someone is famous when they're ten they get spoiled and mean. So I'm going to wait until I am thirteen because that is when I will be a teenager and then I will be famous."

Then I said something stupid. I said, "But you're already mean." I was remembering how she was my enemy when I was seven.

"I am not mean! I'm the nicest girl in the fourth grade. You're mean."

"You hit me."

"You hit me back."

"You started it."

And then she hit me. Again. When she hit me, I dropped my sandwich, and it fell on the floor where the germs were, so I couldn't eat it anymore. That made me kind of mad. I liked peanut butter and jelly, even if it was super boring.

"You still started it," I mumbled.

The bad part was, the other kids had noticed that Isabelle and me were fighting. Well, Isabelle was fighting. Because I didn't do anything. I just dropped my sandwich. Everyone in fourth grade was talking about us.

"They're fighting!"

"Who is that boy? Is he even in our class?"

"Yeah, he's the one who can't write cursive."

"Oh. Why not?"

"Dunno. There's something wrong with him."

"Why are they fighting?"

"Who's fighting?"

"Who's fighting?"

"I wanna fight!"

"Isabelle is my best friend and if he hurts her I will throw my baby sister's soggy diaper at him!"

And then there was the worst comment of them all: "Percy likes Isabelle! They're fighting, and that means they like each other!" People laughed. And then they started to chant "Percy likes Isabelle" and "Isabelle likes Percy" until I felt really hot and my face was red. I didn't like her! People fighting doesn't mean they like each other! Mom fights with Gabe and she doesn't like him. I bet she didn't fight with my dad.

Isabelle was mad, too. She glared at me again and said, "I shouldn't have ever come over here and talked to you, but I was trying to be nice. You don't know how hard it is to be the nicest girl in the fourth grade! I am never talking to you again!" She started walking away, then she turned around and added, "And don't you dare talk to me either, Peggy!"

"Percy!" I corrected.

"Don't talk to me!"

The class was still laughing even when lunch was over and we all walked back to our classroom, and whenever someone walked past my desk to sharpen their pencil while we were working on cursive, they whispered "Percy likes Isabelle."

I tried to ignore it, because that was what I think Mom would have told me to do. Still, I decided I would ask her what I should tell them after school.


"Mom?" I asked while we were eating supper that night (Gabe was at work for once). "What if someone thinks you like someone but really you don't."

"Percy, even if you don't like someone, you shouldn't tell them. You should be kind to them."

"Not like that, Mom. Like… the kissing kind of like." It was a little embarrassing to ask my mom about that, but she was always right when she told me what to do, so I thought I should.

She looked at me thoughtfully, then said, "Well, you don't, do you?"

I shook my head.

"Then tell them that."

"I did. They don't believe me."

"Does the girl like you?"

I shook my head again.

"Do they believe her?"

I shook my head a third time.

"Well, they might tease you for a while, but they'll forget about it soon. And you could always tell them that I don't let you have a girlfriend anyway… because I don't." She looked at me sternly. "You're ten, you can date when you're older."

I felt hot again. "I don't even want to have a girlfriend. Girls are weird. Except you."

Mom laughed a little, like she thought that was funny. "I don't know if I would say I'm not weird, Percy. But I'm glad you don't think badly of me for it."

I was shocked. "Mom. I would never think bad of you! You're… you're you!"

She smiled. "Yes… I'm me. And since I'm me, I can tell you to finish your mashed potatoes before you try to eat that," she had seen me reaching for the plate of blue cookies in the middle of the table.

I finished the mashed potatoes.