Chapter 2: I annoy my gym teacher, and he blows a hole in the wall.
So as Paul Blowfis stuck his head around my bedroom door to wake me, my only thought was how much I resented the fact that Paul was also my English and Drama teacher as well as my step-dad. There was no way that I could get away with being late for school while we lived under the same roof.
"I'm leaving in ten, unless you want to walk to school in the rain, I suggest you get up." I knew he was bluffing. But I figured I wouldn't get much done if I stayed in bed.
I shuffled into the bathroom and turned on the shower, willing the water to heat up instantly. One of the perks of being son of the sea god I suppose. After a few minutes I stepped out and willed myself dry. Another thing I should be grateful to Dad for. The way that I could make things instantly dry saved Mom a lot of money, we never needed to use the communal dryer that our apartment block offered. I never needed a towel which lessened the pile of washing that had to be done. Things like that.
I was ready and at the breakfast table in 5 minutes, scarfing down blue pancakes with syrup. An explaination, Gabe, had once told mom that there was no such thing as blue food. So she went out of her way to make it. Blue birthday cakes, blue cookie, blue pancakes. That and the fact that blue was my favourite colour. Paul walked in and sighed.
"We're going to be late" We weren't. We never were. Still, I drained my glass of water and threw the remains of my breakfast in the bin. In the car, we chatted about trivial things. Annabeth. Exams. Camp. He wanted to know what I was planning for Annabeth's birthday. Which was in a few days. I told him that we were going to Camp Half Blood for the weekend, seeing as Annabeth's family still lived in San Fransisco. And all of our friends would be there. Annabeth had been at camp since she was 7, she's was turning 16 in a matter of days. I remembered that I still hadn't got her a present.
We arrived at school at the regular time. Half an hour before lessons started at 9. No one else really got here until quarter to. So I sat under my regular tree in the grounds and waited for them to file in through the large cast iron gates. Nico di Angelo arrived almost last. Shadow travelling to an alley around a corner and strutting through the gates. He's four years younger than me, though you wouldn't think so. He's just as tall as I am with jet black hair that reaches just above his shoulders. His eyes, almost as dark as his hair, showed pain like no one elses. He had felt pain unlike what many other had felt. but being the son of hades, he had to deal with it. He walked over to me and hauled me up off the floor. He looked like he hadn't slept in days. Shadow travelling across America wears the poor kid out. But he would probably take a nap in algebra, like I was going to take a nap in chemistry. Walking through the halls to our first lessons he told me about his latest argument with his father and Persephone.
"Perce, it's never normally this bad. It's like he resents me for letting you be the child of the prophecy. I mean, he's always resented the fact that I'd survived and Bianca didn't." He looked at me for answers, even though he knew that I could never offer him an explaination as to why his dad torments him so much about his sister's death. I was never any good at figuring stuff out. That's Annabeth's job.
I left him outside his classroom and headed towards my history lesson. At the moment we were studying WWI and WWII. Hardly interesting, you'd think. But if you knew the real reason behind it, you would be all ears. Truth be told, Hitler was a child of hades, like Nico. I'd never tell him, but after I found out why the second world war really happened, I was scared of what Nico could do. After an hour of debating whether or not new advancments in weaponary affected the course of the wars, I was ready to be out of there.
My next lesson was gym. I was pretty sporty, a quick runner. I was on the school football team. I wasn't to bad at baseball either. Although neither were my sport. Swimming. Now that's were I really excelled. Although I wouldn't allow myself to join the team. Cause it just wouldn't be fair. So I didn't compete in swimming competitions. Period. I changed swiftly and walked into the gym hall. Dang. I thought, sub teacher. The man was stood by the wall beneath the basket ball hoop at the edge of the room. He had a cruel face, like those of the ares campers. Kitted out with Wrap-around shades and tattoos up and down his arms. A bleach blond crew cut perched on his head, making his face look redder than it already was. Looking around, I saw that I was still the only student in the room. Double dang! His mouth shaped into an evil grin as a snarl ripped from his chest. Oh for the love of hades! Could these beasts not leave me alone? Thankfully for me, the other students filed into the hall, and the smirk on the man's face disappeared. I decided my best chance would be to get to my denim's in the locker room and grab Riptide, my faithful pen/3 ft long celestial bronze sword, out of the pocket and defend myself from whatever this bloke turned out to be.
"Right class, my name is Aristotel Hardwick. But it is Mr Hardwick to you little brats." His grin found his face again as he glared at us. The poor class he got to torture for the next hour. I glanced at my wrist, relieved that I still had my watch on. It was a gift from my half brother Tyson, a Cyclops, that lived in my dad's under water palace.
The man's shades glinted in the sunlight seeping through the window. He threw another harsh look in my direction. Like his mouth was watering from the anticipation of turning me into rubble. My anger suddenly boiled inside me. I felt a sudden urge to nut the geeky, ginger kid stood awkwardly next to me. My vision blurred with images of war, death, demi-gods sparring indefinitely until one of them landed a hit on they're opponent. The wounded sank to the floor and faded. Only one person could make me feel this way, and it certainly wasn't anyone in the class. Aristotel, Aris.. Ares! My mind confirmed the situation that I had wanted to avoid.
"Perseus Jackson." Ares jeered as if reading my name of a register. Which I suppose he was. Flames licked the tops of his sunglasses, dancing as they melted the black plastic. I don't know what the rest of the kids in there saw. But they didn't offer any hints.
The rest of the lesson went without a serious event. I suppose Ares was waiting for it to be the two of us again. He had changed his sunglasses half way through the lesson. Replacing the half melted once with a pair exactly the same. By the end of the hour everyone was bruised and practically half dead. All except from Ares and I. As the rest of the class crawled into the changing rooms, Ares caught my arm. Heat erupted over my whole body. Still only a slight of the pain I felt when I took my dip in the Styx. The fire that was taking over me subsided, and I realised that he had released his grip. Only to me replaced by more rage. I turned and faced the god of war , whose glasses were now a puddle of melted goo on the floor.
"What do you want Ares?" I snapped at him. Not a smart move. But I couldn't help myself. His face was younger than it was last time I saw him. But his eyes still burned with the same intensity they always had. Literally. Ares chuckled lightly to himself.
"Actually, I have no particular quarrel with you today. But since you're so up for it.." He finally noticed that I had my gym shorts on, and frowned. His two handed blade grew in his hands. As Riptide appeared in front of me with a "pop". I snatched the pen out of the air and uncapped, feeling the familiar weight and comfort. I adopted an offensive stance. And glared ahead of me. A thought crept into my head. Something Chiron had told me before I had set off on my first quest.
"Gods cannot cross eachother's territories except by invitation. That is another ancient rule. Heroes on the other hand. Have certain privialeges. They can go anywhere, challenge anyone, as long as they are bold enough and strong enough to do it." I lowered my sword. If Ares and I were going to fight, I would have to make the first move. And I'm no where near that stupid. Ares' stupid grin faltered as he realised what I was doing. He couldn't bait me into a fight today. He hated that. A new wave of anger flowed through me, but I resisted it. I turned on my heel and sauntered to the changing room, but then, the wall next to me imploded. I was going to be in trouble with the cops.. Again. Nice one Boar Breath. I cursed in my head. Ares' grin had returned.
"Seriously. I've got better things to do too. That's actually why I came here. I need a job done." If he was trying to get my attention, well, I was all ears. "I need to you get me something. And lets just say that if you do it, I might just take off that little curse I put on you a while back." Honestly, my mouth was watering at the idea of this. I mean, I get into fights a lot, and I didn't have to be a genius to know that my curse could affect me when I needed it most. Like it had when I was fighting Atlas.
"What do you want me to do?" I was wary though. Ares could be leading me into a slaughter.
"Oh, I don't know yet, that oracale of yours will though." A sly smile playing on his lips, making him looking nothing but evil in the harsh light. I was out of options really, if I did it, I could get my curse taken off, but someone could get hurt. And more likely, Ares was lying. On the other hand, if I said no, I'd be turned into dust.
"Swear on the River Styx that you'll take off my curse." Thunder boomed. Ares nodded solemmly. "And that no one will get seriously hurt while I'm trying to find it?" His brow furrowed.
"That's for the prophecy to decide." I sighed in defeat.
"Fine. I'll do it." And I stalked out of the room in a huff.