Note to my lovelies: I swear a part of my soul dies every time someone asks if I'll do POV announcements. If you're really that confused, leave a note in your review and I'd be happy to explain.

It's time for another recap. (:

Bianca blamed Luke for everything that happened at her party. He got suspended.
Things are shaky with Thalia and Luke, and Silena and Annabeth are both really hoping they break up.
Grover and Nico are getting closer, but Grover is adamant about staying in the closet.
Clarisse thinks Chris just might like her, but she's not the type to go all crazy for a guy, or so she says.
Luke's family is really rich. Kind of snobbish. And he made out with his mom's ex-husband's stepdaughter at Thanksgiving.
Sally is pregnant. And Thalia's starting to believe she is, but no way in hell is she telling Luke.

And that's what you've missed!

Chapter Sixteen
The Indestructible Power of a Nokia

"I'm sorry…Daph, there's nothing I can…yeah…whatever…bitch."

I was seriously thinking about sneaking out the door and waiting in my car for ten more minutes and then coming in again. I'd walked in just in time to catch the end of an extremely heated conversation Mr. Sol was having with some girl.

He turned around and threw his phone at the wall. Only…I happened to be standing right there. And it was too early in the morning to have the proper reflexes to, you know, duck.

A cheap phone to the head sure woke a person up. "What the hell is your problem?"

"Oh Jesus!"

"More like your innocent student who just got mauled by your phone." I rubbed my forehead. There was definitely going to be a bruise there. That would be a fun one to explain.

"Bianca…I am so sorry…I didn't see you there, and I was on the phone with-" he started frantically apologizing.

"A bitch named Daphne." I bent down and grabbed his phone. He seemed ready to give me his whole sob story. Just kill me now. "And to be honest, that's more than I want to know. Now I'm going to go try and fix my face and pretend this never happened. Deal?" I held out his phone to him.

He grabbed it, obviously embarrassed. "You sure you're okay?"

"Never been better."

"You have bobby pins?"

"…yeah?"

"Come in my office. I can help you out."

So this temporary lapse in judgment hadn't seemed so bad. We were sitting across from each other on the piano bench in his office, and he was trying to pin my hair so I had pseudo bangs for the day. There wasn't a mirror in sight, but he seemed to know what he was doing.

Which led me to ask, "Umm…where exactly did you learn to do this?"

"I went to school to be a beautician before deciding I wanted to be a music teacher," he said. I stared at him, my mouth open. "No, really I just grew up with my mom and sister. You pick up a few things…you know…without a dad."

Sore spot? It sucked for him, but I really didn't want anyone else's problems to deal with. I had a brother whose only friend was a gay kid who wanted to stay in the closet and a dad who suddenly never wanted to be home and I needed to figure out-

"Aladdin. I mean, if you just thought about it, you could wish the rules about your wishes were gone. And then you could have everything you want!" I heard Silena's obnoxiously high voice enter the room. Damn soprano.

"I disagree. Beauty and the Beast is way less realistic, even before you factor in the dancing furniture," Becky Nakamura responded.

"Is Anastasia a Disney movie?" Grover asked.

Sometimes I wondered where they came up with their strange conversations.

One of the guys joined in, going on about how no guy in real life would want Mulan if she could pass for a man.

"Just follow my lead. You look totally normal," Mr. Sol promised. He walked out of his office like nothing had happened. "The Little Mermaid. Oh, I don't have my voice anymore? I'll just pull out my phone blog about it."

"What were you guys doing?" Silena asked as soon as I walked out.

"Nothing." Mr. Sol answered.

Really smooth. This awkward silence hung in the air. "My solo. Nothing. From A Chorus Line?"

Apparently no one really cared, because they all went back to their stupid conversation.

"I'm really sorry," Mr. Sol whispered as he brushed past me. "It's been a bad morning."

No shit, Sherlock.

The only thing worse than substitute teachers were the creepy substitute teachers with dreadlocks and more piercings than you could count on your fingers – the ones who wouldn't quit staring at you.

Our real English teacher had gotten pregnant, or had a nervous breakdown, or had meningitis, or maybe some strange combination of the three. No one really knew. All we'd been told was that she was out for the rest of the semester, and we were stuck with a sub.

"Mrs. M?" Grover groaned as we walked in. "Listen to me, Percy. She's crazy. Like certifiably."

The aforementioned dreadlocked teacher was sitting at our old teacher's desk, listening to John Mayer on her iPod at an excessively loud volume, and wearing sunglasses even though we were inside...while it was raining. She was definitely in her own little world.

"M?"

"That's what we call her. Her name is Mrs. Medacrzandrembrckza…I think," Grover said, enunciating the last name very slowly. "It's German or something."

You know the feeling you get when someone's watching you? Yeah, I was getting it really bad. I threw my stuff on my desk. "Don't look, but she's watching you," Grover whispered.

I turned my head. As much as you could tell with someone wearing giant sunglasses, she was definitely staring.

Grover grabbed my arm and jerked me back around. "I told you not to look!"

"Yeah, well it's the first thing you want to do when someone says that!"

Other people started walking in. Grover wandered over to his spot at the other side of the room, and I slid in my desk. We'd hung out a lot after Thanksgiving break (I could not take being in my house after finding out my mom was pregnant), but had the understanding that we didn't hang out when other people were around.

"Big meet tonight," one of the swimmer guys said, clapping me on the back. "Try not to screw it up this time."

No pressure or anything.

Mrs. M slowly turned her iPod off and wrapped the headphones around it just so. People quit talking as soon as she stood up and walked to the front of the classroom. She was definitely a creepy sub by definition.

"Hello, students." She hissed the s on students to the point where she sounded part snake. "Your teacher left me a…guide of what she'd like us to do during our time together, but I think there are much better things we can do."

She started walking through the rows of desks. "We are going to start with a research paper." She lingered at my desk for a few seconds too long. I was scared that grease from her dreadlocks would get all over my stuff.

"Hon, I haven't seen you here before."

This was awkward. "I'm new."

"Who are your parents?"

Even worse. I hated when teachers asked that question, especially in front of an entire class. "Sally Ugliano is my mom."

Any teacher with a hint of decency would have left it at that. And any student with a hint of a brain could figure out the rest of the story without me saying it.

That's when I decided not to be the guy who doesn't know his dad with the gold digger mom. Because trust me, I knew what that was like from boarding school experience, and it either made people pity you or think you were the biggest loser on the planet.

"My dad died when I was five. Car crash," I lied.

Apparently that was normal. I guess I should have figured, since the new girl in the junior class was here since her mom had died the same way. Maybe this school even had a support group for them. Anything was possible – the hippie school I went to had a club for people who were famous in their past lives.

"Oh." She seemed disappointed. Incredibly weird. "Now, as I was saying. We're going to do a research paper. Ten pages. Come to class tomorrow with a topic, and have your research done by Friday."

That was a grand total of three days. Times like these made me wish I'd let my mom put me in the special ed English program – this project was nearly impossible for me with my dyslexia thrown in.

Mrs. M clapped her hands together. "Any questions? No? Well then, I think we're going to have a great time together." She smiled, showing off less-than-perfect teeth.

And I could have sworn she was staring right at me.