"Percy, it's not worth it." Laerte says, holding his friend by the shoulder before he does anything stupid.
"You're already being watched, you know you'll be blamed if anything happens." Grover reminded him.
As Laerte watched his friends take their seats, he went back to listening to music on his Walkman, which was hidden under his red sweater. He let himself sink into the music, ignoring everything around him.
It's been five months since he started his classes at Yancy Academy, and at first he caught everyone's attention because of his peculiar appearance. Not that he didn't like it, since he really enjoyed talking to people, but Laerte felt out of place talking to them, it was as if he wasn't part of the same world as them.
That changed when he met Percy Jackson who, coincidentally or not, was in the same class as him. The day he met Percy was like any other, Laerte had woken up early at school, trying to get rid of the paparazzi who had memorized the time he woke up.
Being early. The school was almost empty, which meant he would have some peace for a while. Arriving at the cafeteria, he finally noticed the boy who always lay in the same place alone, eating a blue cookie, something he could have sworn didn't exist
Being as good a soul as he is. He sat down at the same table as the boy, who gave him a confused look, before being bombarded by S'mores that Laerte had taken out of his bag.
Seeing the boy's confused face. Laerte handed a S'more to the boy, who introduced himself as Percy Jackson.
A friendship was born and Laerte later discovered that he really enjoyed Percy's company. But the adults and the other children, it was as if he was part of the family, their family.
After a week of friendship, they met Grover, a cripple who seemed to have been held back a few years ago due to his facial hair and acne. Who later became a good friend.
One good thing that came along was that the paparazzi finally stopped following him around, after all his friends weren't the most popular people in school.
"Earth to Laerte! I know you love getting lost in your own little world, but we have to go." Percy said.
"Hey! I don't get lost." Laerte replied, turning off his Walkman and getting up to head for the bus exit.
"We really believe that." Entered Grover into the conversation, with a tone of mockery towards Laerte.
"Like, it's not like you have an uncontrollable addiction to listening to music on the antique that is your Walkman." Percy says sarcastically.
Laerte groans as he sees his two friends, going against his word, pass by the two who give a little laugh.
The three of them soon meet up with the rest of the class, who have been guided by their Latin teacher, Mr. Brunner at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Mr. Brunner was a middle-aged man in a motorized wheelchair. He had thinning hair, a scruffy beard and wore a shabby tweed jacket.
The professor went ahead in his wheelchair, leading all the students through the large echo-filled galleries, past marble statues and glass cases filled with black and orange ceramics.
"Isn't it crazy to think that these things have survived for two or three thousand years?" Laerte said aloud.
Percy silently agreed.
Mr. Brunner gathered everyone around a column four meters high with a large sphinx on top. He began to explain that it was a tombstone, a stele, made for a girl about their age, and went on about the inscriptions on the side. Laerte was trying to listen to what the teacher had to say, because he was a lover of history and mythology, but everyone around him was uninterested.
He was thinking of telling everyone to shut up, but saw Percy doing the same thing. And being silenced by Mrs. Dodds' frown, made him drop that thought.
Mrs. Dodds was the math teacher.
Laerte kept trying to hear what Mr. Brunner was saying, until something unexpected happened.
"Will you shut up?" Percy spoke, to Nancy Bobofit, coming out louder than he had intended.
"Mr. Jackson, did you make a comment?" Mr. Brunner said.
"No, sir." Percy replied, his face red.
Mr. Brunner pointed to one of the figures on the stele. Laerte mentally waved good luck to his friend, knowing what was coming.
"Perhaps you can tell us what this figure represents." Mr. Brunner commented.
Percy looked at the carved image with a face of relief before replying
"It's Kronos eating his children, right?"
"Yes," said Mr. Brunner, obviously not satisfied, "and he did it because..."
"Well... Kronos was the god-king and..."
"King?" Mr. Brunner asked.
"Titan." "And... he didn't trust his children, who were the gods. So, um, Kronos ate them, right? But his wife hid baby Zeus and gave Kronos a rock to eat instead, and made him vomit up his brothers and sisters."
"Ew!" Said one of the girls.
"And then there was that big fight between the gods and the gods won." Percy continued.
"As if we were going to use that in real life. As if they were going to say at our job interviews, please explain why Kronos ate your children." Murmured Nancy Bobofit.
"And why, Mr. Jackson, to paraphrase Ms. Bobofit's excellent question, does it matter in real life?" Said Mr. Brunner.
"Screw you." Grover muttered.
"Shut up." Nancy squeaked, her face redder than her hair.
"I don't know, sir." Percy replied.
"I see, halfway through, how about Mr. Vasilakis clarifies some doubts that remain and if it's possible to fix the story told by Mr. Jackson?" He said.
"Of course sir, Zeus actually gave Kronos a mixture of, um, mustard and wine, which made him vomit up the other deities who, being immortal gods, were living and growing undigested in the titan's stomach. The gods defeated Kronos, cut him to pieces with their own scythe and scattered the rest in Tartarus, the darkest part of the Underworld." Laerte replied.
"Good, Mr. Vasilakis, one point. And with that cheerful comment, it's time for lunch. Mrs. Dodds, would you like to take us back outside?" Said Mr. Brunner with satisfaction.
The class was taken out by Mrs. Dodds, with the girls holding their bellies and the boys pushing each other and acting goofy. Laerte, Grover and Percy were about to follow when Mr. Brunner stopped them.
"Mr. Jackson and Mr. Vasilakis."
"Grover, you can go without us." Laerte said, turning to the teacher.
"Sir?" Percy asked, confused.
"You need to learn to answer my question." He said.
"About the titans?"
"About real life. And how your studies apply to it."
"Ah."
"What you two have learned from me is of vital importance. I expect you to treat it as such. From you, I will accept only the best, Percy Jackson. You, Laerte Vasilakis, just keep up the performance." He said.
Mr. Brunner told the two of them to leave and eat their lunch.
During the walk to the exit of the museum, Laerte thought about what Mr. Brunner had said. Why should his studies be vital to his life? Even though he was good in his class, it was only in his class. Because of his dyslexia and the attention deficit disorder that Percy also shared, he never got a grade above a B- in his entire life.
He was only good at Latin, because he really enjoyed it and his father taught him when he had time.
Before he could think, he and Percy left the museum. The class was gathering on the front steps of the museum, from where they could watch the pedestrian traffic on Fifth Avenue.
Laerte looked up, a huge storm was brewing with the darkest clouds he had ever seen over the city. He thought it was global warming or something, the weather all over New York had been weird since Christmas.
Seeing that only he, Percy and Grover seemed to have noticed, they sat down on the edge of the fountain, away from the others. Laerte sat there because he'd found a good spot, and the other two to make the others think they weren't from that school for weirdos.
"Detention?" Grover asked.
"No." Percy said. "Not from Brunner. I just wish he'd give me a break sometimes. I mean, I'm not a Genius, like Laerte."
"I'm not a genius." Laerte says, taking a pot out of his backpack.
"And know all the names? or know all the mythological facts by heart? If you're not a genius, I don't know what I am." Said Percy grumpily, eating an apple.
"Percy, I'm not a Genius, I'm just good at his subject, or have you forgotten my Cs in the other subjects?" Said Laerte, picking up a loaf of bread with dulce de leche from the bowl.
"It must be that, because of their Greek ancestry, I've heard that they have an easier time in certain areas that others wouldn't, like Latin." Grover says suddenly.
"Laerte has Greek ancestry?" Percy asks stupidly.
"Did you really never notice? My name and surname alone would tell you that." Laerte said, amused.
"I'd never added it up, that's all." Percy said red faced.
"As far as I remember, my name was taken from Laerte of Ithaca. The father of the famous Odysseus, he was also known as the "King of Pimps", and my surname Vasilakis comes from Greek origin and derives from "vasilis", so my surname can be interpreted as little king."
"Why would your father name you after someone with a title like that?" asks Grover.
"I also asked him the same question. He said it would bring luck, whatever that means." Laerte replied, eating his snack.
Mr. Brunner parked his wheelchair at the base of the handicapped ramp. He was eating celery while reading a novel. Percy was about to unwrap his sandwich when Nancy Bobofit appeared in front of him with her friends, and dropped her half-chewed snack into Grove's lap.
"Oops." Nancy said, grinning at Percy, and then her cheeks turned red as she looked at Laerte.
Only to be pulled by something behind the fountain, falling on his butt in the fountain.
"Percy pushed me!" She shouted.
Mrs. Dodds materialized beside them.
"Did you see..."
"The water."
"It seems to have grabbed her..." whispered some of the children.
Mrs. Dodds, checking that Nancy was all right, turned to Percy with her eyes on fire.
"Now, my dear."
"I know, a month of deleting exercise books." Percy muttered.
"Come with me, you too, Mr. Vasilaki."
"What? But he didn't do anything!" Percy shouted in protest.
"That's just it. He didn't do anything to stop you." She said.
"Wait! It was me. I pushed her!" squealed Grover.
"I don't think so, Mr. Underwood." She said.
"But..."
"You.. You're staying here."
Grover looked at them both desperately.
"All right, man." Said Laerte, placing a hand on his shoulder, before heading towards Percy.
"My goods, now." Barked Mrs. Dodds to the two of them.
In front of the museum entrance, the two wondered how she had gotten there so quickly.
The two headed towards Mrs. Dodds, who was walking further into the museum, stopping at the Greco-Roman section. She stood with her arms crossed in front of a large marble frieze depicting the Greek gods.
"You're making trouble for us, my dear." She said, to Percy.
"Yes, ma'am." Percy replied.
"And you. Well, that was a surprise, a pleasant one." She said to Laerte, who was confused.
"Percy, did you really think you were going to get away with this? With your little friend?" Mrs. Dodds says with a perverse expression.
"No? I... I'll try harder, ma'am." Percy said, looking at Laerte nervously.
Together with his companion, he became more nervous, trying to make sense of Mrs. Dodds' words.
"We're not fools, Percy Jackson, it would only be a matter of time before they found out. Confess, and you'll feel less pain." Said Mrs. Dodds.
"What are you saying? What do you mean pain? I think I'll have to talk to Mr. Brunner." Laerte said seriously, taking a step back.
"You fool, that old man won't help you. What about Percy Jackson?" Asked Mrs. Dodds with venom in her voice.
Ma'am, I don't."
"You've run out of time." She hissed.
Mrs. Dodds' eyes suddenly began to glow like barbecue coals. Her fingers stretched out into sharp claws. The coat merges into large bat wings.
"Does that look like a Fury?" Laerte said in shock.
Mr. Brunner, who was reading his novel, appeared with his wheelchair at the gallery door, holding a pen.
"Percy!" he shouted, throwing the pen into the air.
Mrs. Dodds swooped down on the two of them. They dodge in the opposite direction. Percy grabbed the ballpoint pen from above, which, when it hit his hand, was no longer a pen. It was a sword, familiar to him, Mr. Brunner's sword that he used on tournament days with the class.
Mrs. Dodds ignored Laerte, turning towards the other boy with a murderous expression, Percy shuddered, almost dropping the sword.
"Die, my good!"
She flew at Percy. In terror, he swung his sword. The metal blade hit his shoulder and went straight through his body, like butter.
It exploded into yellow sand, reducing it to dust, leaving nothing of the smell of sulphur.
As Percy calmed down, he realized that there was now a ballpoint pen in his hand and no Mr. Brunner. Just him and Laerte.
"Was that real?" Percy asked, to Laerte who stood up on the floor.
"I have no idea. But strangely enough, it looked a lot like a Fury," said Laerte.
Fury?"
But Percy had no answer, Laerte just walked outside, something he imitated. It had started to rain, Grover was sitting by the fountain with a map of the museum forming a tent over his head. Nancy Bobofit was still there, with her friends.
"I hope Mrs. Kerr whipped your butts.
"Who?" replied both of them.
"Our teacher! Idiots."
Laerte blinked in confusion. There was no teacher called Mister Kerr at Yancy Academy.
Percy asked who Nancy was talking about, but he just rolled his eyes and walked away.
"Grover, where's Mrs. Dodds?" Laerte asks.
"Who?" he replies.
"No grace, man. This is serious."
Thunder rumbled overhead. Mr. Brunner was sitting under the red umbrella, reading his book as if he had never moved. Percy went over to him, who looked up.
"Ah, it's my pen. Please bring your own writing instrument in future, Mr. Jackson." Said Mr. Brunner.
Percy handed the pen to Mr. Brunner.
"Sir, have you seen Mrs. Dodds? I asked the others, but they didn't seem to know her." Laerte asked, appearing behind his friend.
"Who?"
"The other teacher who accompanied us. Mrs. Dodds. The algebra teacher." Percy said.
Mr. Brunner frowned and leaned forward with a worried face.
"Percy and Laerte, there is no Mrs. Dodds on this excursion. In fact, there's never been a Mrs. Dodds at Yancy Academy. Are you feeling all right?"