Hello! Here's a quick late chapter between exams, camp and more exams- enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own the premise of the Rick Riordan mythological universe or the characters of Nico and Will.


v: defiance

Sometimes Nico wished that he was the parent with the ridiculously prestigious job (crazy hours and daily, hellish commute included). That way he wouldn't be driving to the school and dealing with every single minor emergency.

He sat in front of the nice secretary's office (her name was Giselle and Nico had spoken to her more often this week than he'd spoken to his husband, which was ridiculous but anyways). He waited for the principal to be ready for him and prepared himself for Mrs. Rottsburg. He mentally prepared himself for what Rottsburg would say; of course we have considered that Teresa is a very troubled child, but even then her actions are inexcusable… Or, even better: I'm obviously not critiquing your lifestyle choices, but perhaps Teresa needs a mother's gentle touch… Oh yes, that was Nico's absolute favourite. Teresa's mother the goddess Athena had about the maternal instinct of a hawk, but sure- Teresa could benefit from it. For obvious reasons, he also had to mentally prepare himself to be patient and kind, as well as get some statements of his own ready. We've been working on sharing and using the right tone of voice at home, but the classroom is a completely different environment in which Teresa needs to practise too… He should just make cue cards and pick one every time he got called to the school for something Teresa did. (At least, he was 99% sure that he was here because of Teresa- but technically it could be a toss-up between four kids, so whatever- he'd find out soon).

When the office door swung open, sure enough, it was Teresa sitting in the chair. Her hands were folded neatly over her purple dress, and her hair was still done up perfectly in its two long pigtails. Her feet could barely touch the ground, but she was swinging her legs and clicking her heels together- looking totally at ease in the principal's office. Jesus, she was way too young to be this desensitised to discipline. This did not bode well.

"Hello Mrs. Rottsburg," Nico said shaking her hand, forcing himself to smile because it was true, his kid could be pretty shitty with the teachers and the principal and just about any other authority figure. Compensation, right?

"Hello, M. di Angelo," Mrs. Rottsburg said. "Please, make yourself at home."

"It nearly is like home," Teresa piped up. Nico gave her a look and smiled at the principal. It hurt. It really, really hurt but damn his kid could be sassy.

"What seems to be the problem today?" Nico asked.

"Teresa was being defiant in class," Mrs. Rottsburg said shutting her door and sitting down in front of Nico.

Nico looked at Teresa. Teresa nodded.

"Only because my teacher was wrong," Teresa said.

"Young lady, your teacher was teaching a class," Mrs. Rottsburg said.

"That doesn't mean she can't be wrong," Nico said trying to sound diplomatic. "Tessa, what did your teacher say that was wrong?"

"She said the capital of Iran was Baghdad," Teresa said.

"That's not true," Nico said, smile falling. "The capital of Iran is Tehran."

"That's what I said and then she said I was wrong and then I said I knew because Iran is my country and then she told me that no because America is my country but that's not true," Teresa said. She spoke at lightning speed and got really gushy when she was upset. There were actually tears in her eyes now. "I was being nice like you said Papa. I'm not being defiant. I'm just right. I'm allowed to be right."

"I know," Nico said. "I know, baby, I know."

She sat on his knees, shaking angrily.

"Here," Nico said. "Why don't you walk to the bathroom and go get some toilet paper to wipe your nose?"

He was hoping that Teresa was too angry to spot the box of Kleenex on the principal's desk. She saw it, but understood that this was her cue to get out.

"Seriously?" Nico asked as soon as the door closed behind her. "I get called away from my work all the way to school because your teacher decided to pick on my daughter?"

"Sir, I don't think my teacher was 'picking' on your daughter," Mrs. Rottsburg said.

"Okay, well, I'm glad you don't. But the fact is that aside for getting angry with my child instead of literally just Googling something, she showed complete and total disregard for my child's heritage," Nico said. "You caught her at a bad time; three days ago we found out that Teresa's biological father was Iranian, and she's been in a world-geography phase for the last week."

"Your child's heritage-"

"Don't fight me on this, please," Nico said. "I'm Italian. I was raised in Italy, I fly with an Italian passport, I speak Italian, and I cook so Italian I haven't use store-bought pasta once in my life. Nobody can tell me that I'm 100% American, because it's not true and I won't have it. I'm fine with coming to school, sitting in your office and going home to talk to my daughter about being polite with adults and enforce positive behaviour and healthy habits. But I will not diminish her sense of identity- nor will I punish her for being smarter than the adults in her surroundings, and unashamed about how brilliant she is. As a matter of fact, we're going to go out for ice cream unless there's something else we need to address."

Mrs. Rottsburg looked at Nico with a look of pure horror. Gone was the gentle and apologetic parent she dealt with so much (so, so much). Nico didn't care. With his kids there was no fight or flight response; there was just fight.