Chapter 12: Frankie and Candy

"Finally!" Percy yelled the moment they exited the classroom. His voice rang through the hallway as though he were speaking into a megaphone and delivering an important announcement. Instantly, dozens of children froze on their spots and peered at him, awaiting his next step. They didn't have to wait for long. "I feel like I've spent an eternity in the kitchens!"

Percy turned out correct in his remark. It did appear like they had spent at least three hours in the accursed classroom, where every second felt like five minutes. If they did not know gods as well as they did, they would let a wrong belief that these soon-to-be-dead-divine-beings might have tweaked with time. But gods were no mystery to them. At this point, most demigods were fairly familiar with the way their parents functioned; freezing time was too much trouble. Moreover, it was the realm of their father, Kronos, so even in the worst of nightmares and desperate of situations, they would not utilize the means so reproachful.

Who knew, maybe the double-lesson plan, indeed, was a great idea. Absolutely counterproductive to the educational side of the school system but certainly less damaging in the long run.

What things wouldn't you do to keep everything under control?

The principal's decision to respect students' curiosity was a good one. It would take them quite a while to come to terms with the reality they all found themselves in.

And not everyone was able to accept it.

"Look," a boy pointed toward Leo was slowly making his way to his next class, seemingly oblivious to the outside world. He had his eyes locked firmly on the floor, muttering something to himself as he moved through the brightly-lit, busy hallway. Those who happened to stand on his way, stepped away almost reverently. Their eyes never left him. "How are they okay with… this?"

"Dunno, man," his friend responded with a tint of disgust coloring his voice.

"Everyone's acting like they're gods," the first one continued, having turned a bit more bitter and missed shifting near him. "Riley's been avoiding them too. These freaks."

"He's a pussy," his friend responded, eyeing Leo with intensity that was just forbidden. "Heard him squirm in front of Coach."

There was him and a clank as Leo halted to look around. He seemed a little lost and defeated, like a little kid in an amusement park.

"I can't believe no one's done anything yet."

Leo sent them a glance but looked away immediately as his attention dispersed. He nodded to himself and continued moving through the hallway, now more eager and determined.

"They're afraid 'gods'," the voice acquired a tinge of sarcasm as though the boy himself did not believe the stories and was pretty unaffected by the book. "Think they'd be smitten."

"That's why I'd be careful if I were you," a new voice fumed beside them. Both stared at glowering Jenna. She shut her locker door with a little more force and glared at the two. "Gods are very sensitive. You might not make it home tonight if you keep offending their kids."

She looked them over one last time before storming off in Leo's direction, hoping he hadn't heard these two assholes.

Something was telling her that Leo might be used to the treatment; if Percy's first chapter was anything to go by, the life of a demigod wasn't the easiest even in their world. It didn't mean some jerk had any right to bully any of them. Even Riley had more sense than that; with Mike having sided with Lyssa and abandoning him, Riley had no one in his corner to justify this behavior.

These two, however. Jenna felt fury build up inside of her. She gotta do something to get back at them.

It had to be good.

This stress had better have a good reason. Such a simple reasoning occurred to Cassandra in the middle of AP Chemistry and lingered for a few hours. This book had better have a good reason to exist. It didn't even need to exist in the first place, but it did and she would love to hear good arguments on why it was this way. She couldn't be the only one finding it extremely odd. Those mood swings she had never been known for, had been affecting her beyond that particular class—way beyond. Her parents had questions she didn't know how to answer. Her girlfriend might have started believing she'd been ditching her and refused to return her calls. Her grades were in the Underworld, right next to that terrifying chasm and Hermes' flying shoes; all because she could never focus in school then couldn't dispose of those wild theories that would pop up in the middle of homework and disturb her until the wee hours of the morning. Rinse and repeat.

Cassandra knew for a fact Lora and Sarah suffered as well. She could bet Lyssa had a whole investigation board in her room, all ready and colored. Everyone struggled.

The worst of all, the nagging feeling of something being wrong lingered somewhere in the back of her mind, growing stronger every time they finished another chapter. It had gotten unbearable after Percy had left in the middle of the day but ceased the next day, and Cassandra would still like to get explanations for that.

But what she'd been getting were stress, questions, and a headache.

Today was by far the worst reading session ever. First, she learned that a freaking Greek god––someone who wasn't supposed to exist––had tried to murder her classmate, all when he had been just twelve! He had threatened a child and no one had batted an eyelid! Apparently, it hadn't been enough because then she had learned that some ancient evil power had been stirring in the deepest, darkest, and murkiest corners of this planet, anticipating the destruction.

Cassandra had stopped freaking out two hours ago.

Now she had to process it all.

The problem was that she couldn't. Too much information to fit in this tiny acceptance drawer of hers.

"Why's Percy's life so hard?" she complained.

They were sitting at the table in the cafeteria. Lunchtime was slowly drawing to an end. However, their discussion was not.

"I cannot believe a god tried to kill Percy!"

"I can see why he's so defiant," Mike added but no one took notice of his remark; they had other worries to take care of and none included Mike and his comments.

"I can," Sarah retorted. Everyone looked at her, eliciting a shrug from her. "He seems to dislike gods. I'd be surprised if they haven't fucked him over a few times."

"By the way," Cassandra interfered, preferring not to dwell on the idea of immortal creatures messing with a child because, if she were being honest, the gods were losing by landslide in this battle. "Did you hear what Annabeth said? What could it mean, 'turn into a hamster?'"

The clattering and talking stopped. Cassandra raised her eyebrows, waiting for their reactions. In the atypical to this group of people silence she could hear voices of dozens of other kids, most sounded contented. And here were her friends, watching her as though she were a mentor who was supposed to navigate them through the trouble of adulthood and find nirvana. If only she weren't getting headaches from them.

"Why're you askin'?" Lora inquired after a while. In fact, they had spent exactly thirty-seven seconds staring at her mutely (yes, Cassandra counted).

"'Cause that's what they said. About the hamster."

"Figure of speech?" Sarah offered. "Something to do with being dumb?"

Lyssa shook her head. It did not appear that simple. On the other hand, when everything was that easy with Percy? She also couldn't tell.

"Well, maybe she was jokin'," Steven mumbled.

"When were they ever joking?"

"Maybe he felt like a hamster?" Sarah said. "You know, constantly running and being busy?"

"Is he ever free?" Mike wondered absent-mindedly. If you think of it, Percy always seemed involved in something that required his full attention; otherwise, he would quite literally drop dead.

"Or, perhaps, there was some story with hamsters?" Steven offered another idea of his.

"How about turning into a hamster?" Lyssa said calmly.

Everyone stared at her dumbfounded, almost accusingly as if she had just told them she had run the said hamster over with her car.

"Like for real?" Cassandra finally asked.

"Yeah."

Another moment of silence, now they were giving her funny looks, like they were wondering whether she felt all right or not. They honestly leaned toward 'no, not really'.

"Yeah, I'm sure," she nodded.

"Er, Lyssa… Do you hear yourself?" Cassandra really fought and urge to wave a hand or even ask whether Lyssa required professional assistance, for she was certainly losing a grip on reality. "Humans can't turn into animals!"

"Greek gods also didn't exist a couple weeks before," Lyssa shrugged. This small gesture had just tugged Mike to her side. He more than anyone knew when not to question her ideas, for they would usually get proven correct. "But no one denies the fact now."

"And how do you picture it?" Peter retorted. "Percy has secret powers he hasn't told us about yet?"

"What'd he tell us anyway?" Cassandra marveled quietly. She, too, had started to see Lyssa's point of view.

"He's a son of a Greek god," Lyssa reminded them. "I wouldn't put anything past him at this point."

"And how are you planning to get this one out of him? Ask?" Sarah pressed.

"Have you seen him?" Lora interfered. "He's gonna kill us first and then, if he feels like it, ask questions. Has there been any cases of animal-turning in history?"

Everyone looked at Lyssa.

"Library, now!"

Library was a dead end. For one, Lyssa was kicked out by Mrs. Friest who had not forgotten Lyssa's disrespect toward her. Even if the rest wondered what had gone down that day, they didn't show their distress regarding this particular piece of information. They had not been forbidden to enter that woman's realm. Who would have though the sacred vault of books might be an inaccessible fortress? The reason of an uncharacteristic demeanor of Mrs. Friest was easily detectable: the book. Ever since it had appeared, she had seen no peace, no quiet. Only hordes of eager children, determined to grab all they could find on Greek mythology. Not to mention, they were loud and messy.

No wonder she took Cassandra's presence with defiance. Cassandra, who had been assigned to inspect the place and request all the books on Greek mythology she could find, knew nothing of it. Therefore, she entered the library in a considerably good mood…

Cassandra spent exactly three minutes and twenty-seven seconds there, before appearing in the hallway. She looked defeated. And dazed.

"What happened?"

The made a circle around her, both curious and perplexed. Cassandra looked baffled. She was blinking rapidly. Only when Lora pinched her, did she start regaining cognizance. Her eyes locked with Lora's.

"There are no books on Greek mythology left!"

Percy felt anger swirling inside him. Discontent was also visible, almost in his face. The throbbing in the ears had not subsided even for a second, further sending him in the arms of mental agony. All because of the book that was messing with his life so badly.

At first, he'd kept his feelings at bay, ignoring Annabeth advice. But the more people gawked at him and whispered, the more he heard the roaring in his ears. His locker door might as well have a dent in it. What's worse, he still had detention; a few extra days, too, thanks to skipping and a blown up pipe in the restroom—not his fault, but they had pushed the blame on him.

To hell with that, he thought. He had already suffered through a lot. A good old detention wouldn't hurt. He'd been through far worse than a bunch of bullies and the Coach's obvious antipathy of anyone under the age of seventy. (He refused to dwell on his order.)

Finally, the detention class appeared before his eyes, the gleaming of golden letters blinded him, but Percy stubbornly stared at it. He couldn't wait any longer. One door swing later, he was standing in the class.

"You're late," was the first thing Percy heard.

Percy didn't respond, Annabeth's inculcation still fresh in his mind. Coach gestured him to go and take a seat, which Percy hurried to do, so not to enrage him even more. He still could feel the burning on his neck and feel Coach's eyes on him.

Today's company consisted of three boys he had never seen, two girls who looked like they had been struck by Zeus' bolt and survived to tell the story, Riley (such a wonder), and another boy he might have seen but couldn't remember. Percy stared. The boy twitched then returned to the paper on his desk.

"Jackson!" Coach bellowed—practically roared—, snapping Percy out of his contemplation.

He was not the only one. Coach had a loud voice; very, very loud. Everyone peered at him. He was always intimidating. He was as bulky as Ares on his worst days and just as mean. His whistle was dangling on his neck like a menacing bell of pure evil that Furies would gladly use on the Field of Punishment. Not to mention that stupid whip. His small eyes were peeking from under thick black eyebrows. He always had a reddish color on his face. Always. Even in the dead of winter he would look like he had just finished a marathon. In short, he was quite menacing. And, probably, suffered from a hangover, for his eyes were puffy and red and, as some students later affirmed, he was hiding a bottle of beer in the drawer.

Percy got instantly annoyed with him.

"Jackson," Coach roared, simultaneously opening the said drawer. "Sit your ass down!"

So Percy did. Accompanied by a sound of clanging, he moved toward the back of the class in search of the most fitting place. Somehow he ended up behind Riley, who turned his attention from the girls to glare at Percy. Percy paid him no mind, too focused on the girls. They seemed like they had been beat by a wild rooster then fallen in the vat of tar and feathers. Some of those were colorful, some glued to their faces, some stuck in the hair.

"What happened to them?" Percy whispered.

His question drew immediate attention from the girls and Coach. His already red eyes turned crimson red and glittered in the light of the lamps

"Jackson, shut up!" he shouted. Girls hissed at him like angry geese. Percy held his hands up, admitting his defeat. Who cares, honestly? He certainly didn't.

"Why're you–" the hissing repeated, this time addressed to Riley who sent them an angry look. "Don't hiss at me!"

"Keyes!" Coach yelled. "Shut up, you too!"

Riley grumbled something incoherent under his breath but did not try raising his voice. Although quiet now, he continued sending glances toward the girls.

Percy got bored almost instantly. His eyes rested on the last person of this classroom. Where had he seen this boy? The pulling at the back of his mind suggested that Percy might not like the answer. But where..? The pulsation at his temples grew stronger, forcing him to search through his memories to find the root of it. Where? Where had he..?

The truth suddenly dawned on him. His eyes widened. Of course!

"You!" he screamed, leaping to his feet, his finger pointing at the source of his paranoia.

Girls stopped talking and stared at Percy. Riley jerked, three boys he didn't know recoiled synchronically in horror (Percy was sort of a celebrity nowadays). Coach jolted, quite struck by a sudden noise. In the process, he managed to hit his knee on his desk and howled with such force he might have called Lupa from the other side of the country.

Everyone stiffened, too dumbfounded to act properly.

Percy didn't care. The demon, the devil, was here to torment him! He wanted to drive Percy mad! No, Percy would not allow that! The devil, Ares––whoever he was––could choke!

"J-Jackson!" Coach stuttered, still fighting the desk and losing tremendously. "Shut your trap!"

Percy would not hear anything even if he were yelled right in the face; he was too preoccupied by this new revelation of his.

"What iz happenin'?" the devil asked.

"Levidis!" Coach barked, this time his voice carried through the room with more force than before.

The devil blinked and turned to the teacher. "Sorry?"

"Jackson, sit down! You too, Levidis! I'm not gonna ask twice!"

Such a strange request, for only Percy stood on his feet. And he was not going to follow this quite sound advice. His fingers still was pointing at the boy.

"Why're you here?" he yelled. Several people winced. And Percy was getting madder by the second. This crashing wave of fury, dissatisfaction, and disgruntlement, spiced up with paranoia had just drowned him. Percy heard nothing but his own breathing and a pounding in the ears. He—should—disappear. "Why're you stalkin' me?! What've I done to you?!"

Silence was his answer. Kids were peering at him cautiously, not knowing what to do. That Percy was off his rocker was common knowledge by now. However, no one could tell the full extent of it. Percy could murder them all, for all they knew.

Percy's paranoia did not like having so much attention drawn to his question. The pounding grew stronger, and the voice that sounded suspiciously like Grover's was persuading him to kill all these dirty humans. Not such a bad plan, a tiny part of his mind mused. Could kill two bird with one stone.

Percy shook his head and peered at the boy. He was staring back, a little confused and scared; his black eyes wide open. He would feel pain!

Whoa, dude, that's not what we've agreed on! Another part of his mind exclaimed. Bad. Very, very bad. A life-sentence in a smelly prison cell bad. Dude, we don't want to share a bed with some hairy guy named Frankie, do we?

Percy blinked and frowned. Well, no… He did not want to end up caged next to a hairy guy named Frankie.

And a guy named Candy! The same part added a little exhilarated. He'll look sweet but will try to poison you in the middle of the night because you've beaten him in pinochle!

He'll drink toilet water to heal, the tiny part retorted.

Percy's eyes gone wide. He'd do what in the company of who?!

He sooo wanted to interfere in this pointless quarrel his mind was having with itself but couldn't find words. What were you supposed to say when you were getting mad? That's how it felt?

His covered his ears and started shaking his head. In the blurriness of the havoc, he'd lost the vision. In his head nothing but terror. Why would he have to play cards with two guys named Frankie and Candy?!

"Why pinochle?!" he shouted, his hands still covering his ears.

Voices didn't answer. All he heard again, was his own heart throbbing.

Percy took a few breaths and opened his eyes. Half a dozen pairs of eyes were ogling him, like he was a nice Hera: horrified and wondering if they should run away now. Percy could clearly see their expressions; he'd seen them plenty of times, including that nightmare-inducing night when they watched the orientation film.

When he moved in their direction, all kids and Coach recoiled, still terrified as ever. Percy halted and offered them a sheepish smile, which did not do any good to his case and had produced a few hundred gossips that would be spreading around the school in the next 24 hours.

"Err, I—" his eyes landed on the black-haired boy. Percy hollered and leaped backward. His hip crashed into the desk, but Percy took no notice; his attention on the boy.

This devil was here! Still!

Coach grumbled something illegible and glowered at Percy. "Jackson, what are you—"

"Shh!" Percy practically bellowed, his finger pointed to the boy. "You. Don't come near me! I don't wanna share a bed with Frankie!"

Percy didn't hear himself anymore, too far gone to think clearly. All he wanted was to be away from the devil. It meant that any twitch now would look through the lens of Percy's paranoia and recognized as a crime against humanity. He didn't require reasons to overreact.

"Get away from me, you—you—Whatever you are!"

Percy sprinted to the exit, his hand on the door knob, his eyes wild.

No one bothered to stop him, too shocked to move. No one said a thing when he opened the door and stumbled out.

The door closed with a slam. The loud bang it produced snapped them out of the daze; everyone stared at each other in silence.

"What'd you do to him?"

It shouldn't be funny, but the thought of Percy thinking of Frankie and Candy makes me crack up. What does it say about me? _