TLT Chapter 1

I ACCIDENTALLY VAPORIZED MY PRE-ALGEBRA TEACHER

If you think I wanted to be a half-blood, you're crazy! Looking over your shoulder every second, being hunted by supposedly mythological beings, and worst of all, dealing with arrogant gods who want to kill you if you're too powerful (*cough* Zeus *cough*). Yea, no thanks. If you think you're a half-blood, accept it like a real man, er, woman, whatever you are. Because that's the thing, you don't have a choice. You're life is basically set in stone (or yarn) by three old ladies the moment a god or goddess gets a little horny (mostly gods though) and brings you into this awful life with no help from them whatsoever—unless you're lucky, which not many demigods are. But if you're just a normal kid, read on and ignore everything I just said.

I'm getting off track here.

My name is Persephone Jackson, but call me that and you won't forget the feeling of my fist on your face—just ask Nancy, you'll meet her soon enough. I don't like to be known as a kidnapped damsel in distress cause she was a little hungry and ate a pomegranate seed, in the underworld no less (yea I know, stupid). I go by Percy, or if you think you're too mightier than thou to even say my first name (*cough* monsters *cough*), then it's Jackson. I know I sound a little too violent for a 12 year old as myself but what do you expect from a troubled kid.

Am I really that troubled?

Hell to the yes.

I get the wonderful privilege to go to a private boarding school for troubled (read: mental) kids in upstate New York called Yancy Academy. I could start at literally any point in my short miserable life to show you that I have a serious misbehaving problem. But really, this whole thing started going bad last May, when our sixth grade class took an educational field trip to Manhattan—twenty-eight mental-case kids and two teachers on a dirty, ugly, mustard yellow school bus, heading to the Metropolitan Museum of Art to look at Ancient Greek and Roman stuff that I already knew about from my mom (she's a huge nerd about this stuff).

I know- it sounds like absolute torture. Done get me wrong- I love to learn... but not when you have a bunch of obnoxious assholes joining in.

But Mr. Brunner, our Latin teacher, was leading this trip, so I had some pretty high expectations.

Mr. Brunner was this middle-aged guy in a cool motorized chair. He had brown, thinning hair and a scruffy beard, along with a frayed tweed jacket that always seemed to smell like coffee. He wouldn't seem cool at first glance, but he told interesting stories and funny jokes and also let us play games in class, which immediately put him on my good list, meaning he got no pranks from me. He also had this awesome collection of Roman armor and weapons, so he was the only teacher whose class I even bothered to pay attention to, despite my average grades.

And for once in my life, I actually hoped this trip would be okay. At least, I hoped to not get in trouble, for my mother's sake, since I knew she loved Greek mythology.

Boy was I wrong. Actually, contrary to the popular belief, I expected it, even the mythological part, I just had to put the pieces together from all my past experiences.

By past experiences, I mean field trips.

You see, bad things happen to me on field trips, there's just no stopping it. Like at my fifth-grade school, when we went to the Saratoga battlefield, I had this "accident" with a Revolutionary War cannon. How could you put a loaded cannon on display and expect me to not shoot it? I mean come on! At least I had a good reason: I was aiming at a target, a dog the sized of a garbage truck that was coming towards me, on the other side of the parking lot, but it hit the bus instead. You can probably guess they weren't to happy about that as they were quick to expel me. Oh, and before that, at my fourth-grade school, when we took a more interesting behind-the-scenes tour of the Marine World shark pool, I may have purposely hit the wrong lever on the catwalk that had the class taking an unplanned swim. Those ass-wipes didn't believed me when I said the sharks, who were quite nice, told me to. And there were many times before that that I would just love to describe but I'm getting off track again (goddamn ADHD).

This trip, I was determined to not prank anybody. Notice how I didn't say I'd be 'good'.

All the way through the city, I forced down my annoyance and put up with Nancy Bobofit-told you, you'd meet her-, the freckly, redheaded kleptomaniac girl, hitting my best friend Grover in the back of the head with chunks of her peanut butter-and-ketchup sandwich, but knowing not to mess with me specifically, seeing as I almost broke her nose when I punched her last time for insulting me.

The thing is, Grover was a really easy target, unlike me. He was super scrawny. He, for some odd reason he wouldn't tell me, cried when he got frustrated. He had to have been held back several grades, because he was the only sixth grader with acne and the start of a wispy beard on his chin. And, as a nice cherry on top, he was crippled. He had a note excusing him from PE for the rest of his life for some muscular disease. He walked like every step hurt him, but for some suspicious reason he could run like hell on enchilada day and not once did anyone question it. I gotta give him props for pulling it off though, wish I was that good.

Anyways, Nancy was still throwing wads of her sandwich that stuck in his curly brown hair, and she knew I couldn't do anything about it cause I was already on probation. As if that would stop me. But, the headmaster had threatened me with, honest to god, death, by in-school suspension if anything, and I mean anything remotely bad, embarrassing, or even mildly entertaining happened on this stupid trip, even if it wasn't my fault- though it most likely would be.

"I'm going to break her nose for real this time," I quietly growled.

Grover, being the great friend he is, tried to calm me down, knowing what I was like when pissed off. "It's okay. I like peanut butter!"

"IN YOUR FUCKING HAIR?!" I whisper yelled a little too loud, causing Mr. Brunner to stare at me, too surprised at my rude language to even scold me while Mrs. Dodds just sneered at me like it was completely normal for a twelve year old to be cussing.

He dodged another piece of Nancy's lunch.

"YOU'RE DEAD, BOBOFIT!" I snarled as I started to get up, inwardly satisfied when I saw a flicker of fear in her eyes as her hand subconsciously went to protect her nose. Sadly, Grover pulled me down before any damage could be done.

"You're already on probation," he reminded me. "You know who'll get blamed if anything happens."

"Why the fuck should I care," I said, still angry he didn't let me deck her.

He just looked at me with a 'you know why' look, completely used to my foul language. Looking back on it now, I wish I broke her nose then and there cause honestly, in-school suspension would be better than going through all this godly mess I was about to get myself into.

Mr. Brunner led the museum tour.

He rode up front in his amazing wheelchair, leading us through the big echoey galleries, past some naked marble statues and glass cases full of really old black-and-orange pottery, sprouting random facts about each one.

It positively blew my mind that this stuff had survived tens of thousands of years.

He gathered us around a thirteen-foot-tall stone column with a big sphinx on the top, and started telling us how it was a grave marker, a stele he called it, for a girl around our age, kinda depressing when you think about it. He droned on and on about the carvings on the sides. For once in my life, I was actually trying to listen to what he had to say, because I only had basic knowledge of this stuff and wanted to know more, but everyone wouldn't stop talking, making my rage grow by the second. Every single time I told them to shut up, the other teacher chaperone, Mrs. Dodds, would give me the rudest look.

Mrs. Dodds, in my humble opinion, was Satan's Bitch. She was this little maths teacher from Georgia who always wore a black leather jacket, even though she was like fifty years old. She looked badass enough to ride a Harley right into your locker for getting an F on an assignment. She had come to Yancy halfway through the year, when the last teacher had a mental breakdown (guilty as charged).

On her first day, Mrs. Dodds just adored little ol' Nancy and fucking despised me like I was the devil itself, even though that's not far from the truth. Whenever I did something that was a tad out of line, she would point her nasty crooked fingers at me and say, "Now, honey," in her sickly sweet, southern accent and I instantly knew I was going to get after-school detention for the next month or so. Unfair if you ask me.

One time, after she'd made me erase answers out of old math textbooks until fucking midnight, I told Grover I didn't think Mrs. Dodds was even human. He looked at me, real serious, and said, "You're absolutely right." That was my second clue.

Mr. Brunner was still going on about Greek funeral art, still very depressing.

I snapped when all of a sudden Nancy snickered something about the naked dude on the stele to her cronies. I whipped around and said in my most harsh voice, "WILL YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP, BITCH!?"

The echoey walls carried my voice and seemed to amplify it by a thousand, because it came out way louder than I intended.

The whole group was torn between shaking in fear or laughing at Nancy's expense. Mr. Brunner suddenly stopped his story.

"Ms. Jackson," he scolded, "watch your language! Did you have a comment to make?"

Mr. Brunner is the only person, other than my mom and Grover, able to make me feel ashamed. That's why I was a little red, not too red for anyone but him to notice, when I said, "No, sir."

Mr. Brunner pointed to one of the pictures on the stele. "Perhaps you'll tell us what this picture represents?"

I looked at the carving and felt a flush of relief because my mom often talked about this one. "That's Kronos eating his kids."

"Yes," Mr. Brunner said, obviously I hadn't satisfied him. "And he did this because..."

"Kronos was the King Titan and he didn't trust his kids cause of some fuc-messed up prophecy his dad gave him after he sliced him into little pieces stating that his kids would kill him he same way he was killed and all that sh-crap. You know, now that I think about it, you'd think that'd be a hint to love your kids to get them to like you, but nope, he ate them like the butt head he was. But Rhea, bless her, hid Zeus and fed a rock to Kronos instead—how can you be stupid enough to mistake a rock for a baby anyways? Ok, back on track, and when Zeus grew up, he fed a mixture of vinegar and mustard to his father—" I started before a classmate interrupted.

"Ewwww!" She exclaimed

"Yeah whatever. Can I continue now? Anyways, Zeus fed a mixture of mustard and vinegar to his father, making him barf up his siblings—" was all I got in once again before I got interrupted yet again.

"EWW—" she started before I cut her off.

"SHUT UP AND LET ME FINISH! Okay? Okay. So, him and his sibling had this, like,10 year war and the gods won, those lucky bastards."

By the time I was finished, Mr. Brunner was staring at me with a horrified look in his eyes while Nancy mumbled to her friend, "Like we're gonna use this in real life. Like a job application's gonna say, 'Please explain why Kronos ate his kids.'"

"Yeah, okay. Like you'd even get to that stage of a job. You'll probably be a stripper for all we know," I said to Nancy. Nancy was about to open her mouth to retort, but one glare from me and her mouth was shut.

Mr. Brunner got out of his little shock and gave me a weird glance he thought I didn't notice before it went away and he turned fully to me.

"And why, Ms. Jackson," Brunner began, "to paraphrase Miss Bobofit's excellent question, does this matter in real life?"

"Busted," Grover muttered. I snickered quietly with the group, so as not to get caught by Brunner.

"Shut up," Nancy hissed, her face brighter than her hair, if that was even physically possible.

At the very least Nancy got busted too. I'm tellin' you, Mr. Brunner has some sort of radar ears and was the only one who caught Nancy in the wrong.

I thought about his question and to what my mom taught me about people called demigods, half human, half god. This would be pretty important to them. So I said, "If you were a demigod, right? Those half god, half humans?

Mr. Brunner looked stunned, Grover as well. Glad to know he had faith in me (notice the sarcasm). "Well, full credit Ms. Jackson. Zeus did indeed feed Kronos with a mixture of mustard and vinegar, which made him disgorge his other five siblings, who, of course, being immortal gods, had been living and growing up completely undigested in the Titan's stomach. The gods then defeated their father, sliced him into pieces with his own scythe, and scattered his remains in Tartarus, the darkest part of the Underworld. On that happy note (happy?), it's time for lunch. Mrs. Dodds, would you lead us back outside?"

The class drifted on, the girls holding their stomachs like the weak pansies they are, and the guys pushing each other around like doofuses. What's new?

Grover and I were about to follow when Mr. Brunner said, "Ms. Jackson."

I had a feeling on what he was going to ask.

I told Grove that I'd catch up later then turned to Mr. Brunner and said, "Sir?"

Mr. Brunner has these weird eyes- intense brown ones that looked to be a thousand years old and had seen everything.

"How did you get the answer demigods for my question?" He inquired.

"My mother sometimes talks about demigods to me, she said it was important information and that I needed to know it." I replied, the reason to why this was important slowly coming together.

"Well your mother is a very smart lady. But, everything you learn from me is vitally important as well. I expect you treat it as such. I will accept only the best from you, Percy Jackson."

I was inwardly happy, this guy pushed me hard and actually believed I could do something. I wasn't going to let him down. "Okay, Mr. Brunner, I will try my absolute best!"

Well ignoring the fact that I've never gotten above a B+ in my life, I would still try my hardest to impress Mr. Brunner.

Mr. Brunner dismissed me, looking a proud until a sad look came on his face as he looked at the stele, like he was at the girl's funeral. Suspicious.

Line Break

The class gathered on the front steps of the museum, where we could watch the endless foot traffic along Fifth Avenue.

Overhead, a massive storm was brewing, with the clouds blacker than I'd ever seen. I figured it was some weird thing with the economy because the weather had been funky since Christmas. We've been having unusually massive snow storms, flooding, and wildfires from lighting strikes. I wouldn't be too surprised if there was a hurricane coming in.

None of the other idiots seemed to notice though which I found very weird since they didn't so much as glance at the sky. Some guys were too busy pelting the poor pigeons with their Lunchables crackers. Nancy, ugh, don't even get me started, Nancy was trying to pickpocket something from a poor old lady's purse, and, of fucking course, Mrs. Dodds wasn't seeing shit.

Grover and I sat on the edge of the fountain, away from the other weirdos and idiots that tried hitting on me (not to brag but for a twelve year old I have a nice body figure). We thought that if we sat away from them, others would think we weren't associated with them at all. It didn't work so well.

"Detention?" Grover asked.

"You have so much faith in me," I said in mock hurt, making Grover snicker a little. "But nah, not from Mr. Brunner, he just wanted to know something and told me to work hard. I mean-I'm not a genius, but I'm not dumb, ya know?"

He nodded but didn't say anything for a while. Then, when I thought he was going to cheer me up a little, he just said, "Can I have your apple?"

I just sighed and handed to him; Grover sucks at making people feel better.

I watched the stream of cabs going down Fifth Avenue, and thought about my mom's place, only a little ways uptown from our current location. Man, I hadn't seen her since Christmas! I just wanted so badly to jump in a cab and have him take me home. But I knew it was worthless, I mean, she'd be happy to see me, but also kinda disappointed and just send me back to this hellhole, remind me to keep trying, even if this was my sixth school in six years (I was probably going to get kicked out anyways). I wouldn't be able to stand the look she gave me. Before you say it, yes, I know, the tough punk chick is a total mommas girl. Deal with it.

Mr. Brunner parked his wheelchair at the base of the handicapped ramp. He ate celery—who the hell snacks on celery of all things?—while he read a paperback novel. A red umbrella stuck up from the back of his chair, making it look like a motorized cafe table, which I thought was the coolest thing since chokers.

I was about to unwrap my much needed sandwich when Nancy, the bitch, appeared in front of me in all her asshole-ish glory with her ugly ass friends. Guess she was tired of trying—and not succeeding, judging by the dirty looks loiterers and old ladies were giving her—to pickpocket and dumped her HALF FUCKING EATEN LUNCH in Grover's lap.

"Oops." She grinned and me with her yellow, crooked teeth. Dead serious, her freckles were orange, like somebody spray-painted her face with liquified Cheetos, like I said, gross.

Really though, I did tried to stay cool and keep a reign on my temper, but she has been nagging me ever since we got on that damned bus (and she has a weird talent of getting under my skin without trying). The school counselor had told me a billion times, "Count to ten, get control of your temper." But I didn't even make it to three as my mind went blank and I heard a wave in my ears as I let loose.

Despite what people may think, I don't remember touching her, like, at all. But somehow she was in the fountain, soaking wet, but knowing better than to blame me (as I would punch her again. Probation or not).

Mrs. Dodds was suddenly right next to me.

Some of the kids were whispering but quickly stopped as they saw my glare but I already heard some snippets of conversation. Things like:

"Did you see-"

"-the water-"

"-like it grabbed her-"

I didn't know what they were blabbering about but I knew one thing for sure. I was in deep shit. Well, there goes my promise of staying out of trouble.

As soon as Mrs. Dodds was absolutely, one hundred percent sure Nancy was in the tippiest top condition possible, promising to buy her new clothes at the gift shop and all that other bullshit, she turned to me. There was a triumphant fire in her eyes and a little violent glint that disappeared just as quickly as it came which made me a little uneasy. "Now, honey-"

"I know," I interrupted her in a rude tone. "A month erasing those dumb workbooks."

That obviously just made her even more mad.

"Come with me," Mrs. Dodds demanded.

"Wait!" Grover yelped. "It was me. I pushed her."

I started at Grover, dumbfounded. Why was he trying to cover for me? He was literally terrified of Mrs. Dodds.

She glared at him so hard the poor guy's whiskery chin trembled. He officially had the 'Best Friend Ever' award right now... ignoring the fact that he's my only friend.

"I don't think so, Mr. Underwood," she all but snarled.

"But-" he tried again

"You-will-stay-here," she said with such malice it almost, almost, made me flinch.

Grover looked at me desperately, trying to converse with me even though I didn't understand. Why was he so panicked?

"It's okay, dude," I told him. "Thanks for trying though. I appreciate it."

"Honey," Mrs. Dodds barked at me. "Now."

"Jeez I'm coming you old hag," I muttered under my breath so only Grover could here. Grover tried to stifle a laugh, though it looked more nervous and forced.

Nancy must've temporarily forgot who she was looking at because she smirked at me. Smirked at me.

I gave her my deluxe I'll-kill-you-later stare that made her pale and quickly turn around. I inwardly smirked, despite the situation I was in. I then turned to face Dodds, but... she wasn't there. She was somehow standing at the museum entrance, way at the top of the damn steps, gesturing impatiently at me to hurry up.

How's she get there so fast? That question alone sent warning alarms into my head. I knew I shouldn't go with her but I couldn't blatantly ignore a teacher or I'd be in deeper shit than now.

My counselor says that my brain falls asleep or something and it's like the universe moved without me. He said it was because of my ADHD. You know what I call that? A load of bullshit.

Despite my better instinct, I followed Dodds.

Halfway up the steps, I glanced back at Grover to see how he was handling this, he seemed pretty freaked out back there. He was pale, his eyes cutting between Mr. Brunner and I, trying to get him to notice me, but Mr. Brunner was too involved in his novel to notice. I swear if I get excessively punished cause he's not paying attention I'll haunt him for the rest of his life.

I analyzed all of this in mere seconds, but when I looked up again, Mrs. Dodds had disappeared...again, except this time in the building at the end of the entrance hall.

Okay, I thought. She's going to make me buy the bimbo a new shirt. But deep down I new that wasn't the case.

I was proved right as I followed Mrs. Dodds deeper into the museum. When I finally caught up to her (she's a fast old lady, jeez), we were in the Greek and Roman section. This just backed up my theory. The Greek gods were real. That meant Dodds might be some kind of danger—a monster...

Judging by the growling in the back of her throat, she definitely was.

The gallery was empty, well, except for us, obviously.

Dodds was in front of the big marble frieze of the Greek gods when I heard the growling.

I mean, even without the weird noise, I'd be a tad nervous. You know, it's kinda weird being alone with a teacher in the middle of a museum, let alone one that might be a monster. She seriously looked like she wanted to pulverize the frieze.

"You've been giving us problems, honey," she snarled, making me wish she would drop the damn 'honey' thing.

For once in my life, I did the safe thing and said, "Yes, ma'am."

The words tasted bitter in my mouth.

She tugged on the cuffs of her leather jacket. "Did you really think you would get away with it?"

The triumphant look in her eyes was replaced with evil and the violent glint was back full force.

She is a monster, I thought nervously. How am I supposed to make it out alive if I have no weapon?

I played the part of a clueless student and said, "I'll guess I'll try harder, ma'am."

Thunder shook the building, making me think Zeus was mad. Suddenly, the weird weather all made sense now. But now wasn't the time to mull over my new discoveries.

"We are not fools, Percy Jackson," Mrs. Dodds practically growled. "It was only a matter of time before we found you out. Confess, and you will suffer pain."

Okay that doesn't seem fair. Pain, or confess, but still suffer pain. Sounds like an lose-lose situation. But I really didn't know what she was talking about.

All I could thing of was the illegal stash of electronics and candy I've been selling. You wouldn't believe how much rich kids would pay you just for candy and broken electronics I fixed up. I've made $2000 just this year! I'm fucking rich! Or maybe they realized I cheated on my Tom Sawyer essay. I didn't really cheat. Only 5 out of the 14 paragraphs were copied anyways. Hopefully they wouldn't make me reread it, considering my severe dyslexia.

"Well?" She demanded

"That wasn't very much time," I replied sassily. "But I really don't know what you're talking about."

"Your time is up!" She hissed.

Then, the weirdest fucking thing happened. Her eyes began to glow like fire. He horrid fingers turned into an even uglier version, turning into long, sharp talons. Her jacket somehow melted into large, leathery wings. I already established she wasn't human, this was just proving my point further. She was a shriveled hag with bat-like wings, claws, and a whole mouthful of yellow fangs that needed a major brushing, and she was about to slice me like bologna.

Then, if possible, things got even stranger!

Mr. Brunner, who I could've sworn just had his nose buried in a novel outside, wheeled his wheelchair into the doorway of the gallery, holding a cheap looking pen in his hand.

"What ho, Percy!" he shouted, tossing the pen at me.

At the same time, Mrs. Dodds lunged at me.

With trained skill, I ducked under the talon and felt them swoop by me, missing my ear by and inch or two. I hurriedly snatched the supposedly useless pen out of the air, but when it hit my hand, it wasn't a pen anymore. It was the same exact bronze sword that Mr. Brunner used on tournament day.

Mrs. Dodds sounds around with an angry look in her eyes, furious that she had missed me.

I stared at the sword in awe for a second, then kept a tight grip on it, ready to swing it at any moment.

"Die, honey!" She snarled.

And flew straight at me, the girl with a sword, ready to be used at a moments noticed. Was she stupid? Did she think I was incapable of swiping a sword? Rude.

During my inner monologue, I felt adrenaline shoot through my veins. So, I did the only thing natural: I swung the sword.

The metal blade started at her shoulder and traveled all the way down to her hip (ouch!) like butter. Hisss!

Mrs. Dodds look like a sandcastle in a power fan. She exploded (I've been waiting for this day) into a yellow powder, leaving nothing but the rancid smell of sulfur and an already fading screech with the presence of evil still lingering in the air, like the red eyes were still watching me. Weird.

I was alone.

The sword shrank back into a pen.

Mr. Brunner wasn't there anymore.

Man, I knew that was most definitely not an illusion. I mean, I'm not stupid.

I went back outside.

Like I predicted, it was pouring buckets outside.

Grover was sitting by the fountain we were at earlier, a museum map tented over his head in a poor attempt to keep the rain out. Nancy was still soaked (serves her right), from the little episode with the fountain, grumbling some stupid shit to her friends. When she saw me, she must've had a temporary boost of confidence cause she said, "I hope Mrs. Kerr whipped your butt."

"Uh, what the fuck did you just say to me? And who the hell is Mrs. Kerr?" I questioned.

She looked horrified that she said that to me "Mrs. Kerr is the-is the pre-algebra teacher. She has been all-she has been all year," she replied nervously.

I just blinked. We had no teacher named Mrs. Kerr, at least, as far as I knew. So I just rolled my eyes and went back to Grover.

I asked Grover where Mrs. Dodds was.

"Who?" he said.

But he hesitated first, and he wouldn't make direct eye contact with me, so I knew he was lying.

"Not funny, bro," I told him. "I'm being fucking serious. Don't play with me."

Thunder boomed overhead.

He just averted his eyes and blatantly ignored me.

I just growled a bit and walked away. I saw Mr. Brunner sitting under his little red umbrella, completely dry, while reading his book like he had never moved.

I went over to him.

He looked up, looking a little distracted. "Ah, that would be my pen. Please bring your own writing utensil in the future, Ms. Jackson."

I looked at him funny before handing over the pen, not even realizing I still had it.

"Sir," I said. "where's Mrs. Dodds?"

He stared at me blankly. "Who?"

"The other chaperone. Duh. You know, shriveling old hag that hated my guts? Ring a bell? And don't you dare lie to me like Grover did."

He looked momentarily surprised at my hostility, even a little worried before he schooled his features into one of slight concern. "Persep-Percy, there is no Mrs. Dodds on this trip. As far as I know, there has never been a Mrs. Dodds at Yancy Academy. Are you feeling okay?"

What. The. Fuck.