Fangirl School (Percy Jackson)

W-what?

"Good morning, everyone! Welcome back to Fangirl School! Please find your fandom's bus and take it to your school building. Have a great day!"

"You'd think they'd learn to stop playing that every single dam morning," Delphine said, shaking her head as we made our way to one of the Percy Jackson buses.

"Who do you think's going to get picked for the reenactment thingy?" I asked.

"Well, let's see. 125 girls and 175 boys in the year. It's a 1/125 chance to get picked. Even lower for the boys. I don't want to get picked," Fiona said.

"I do," Delphine said. Clearly, Fiona had not changed her mind since two days ago.

"Whatever you say, Del," Fiona said, seemingly not in the mood to argue.

We boarded the bus. I'd always loved the bus ride into the school; we got to see the nature, the swimming pool they had for optional lessons, and the make-believe Camp Half-Blood they had put together for third years and above to play Capture The Flag after school every Friday.

But today, we took an unusual turn where the entrance to the Camp Half-Blood replica was on our right. Instead of going straight and seeing the Hogwarts castle replica in the distance, we took a sharp left and went on a road I didn't recognize.

"Hello, demigods," said Mrs. Golde, our homeroom teacher's voice over the PA. "Today we're going to be going to the Hunger Games branch of Fangirl School for the reaping."

Murmurs filled the bus.

"I didn't know they were doing that today," Fiona whispered. "It's only the first day!"

"I think it's because they don't know how long it'll last," I said.

"I think you're right," Fiona said, gazing out the window as the bus pulled to a stop at what we guessed was the Hunger Games building.

The doors opened and Mrs. Golde stepped in. "Alright guys, we're going to be really quiet, okay? You're representing District Twelve, apparently the worst one. Good luck, kiddos. Follow me."

We followed her out of the bus and into the building. It was so similar yet so different from the one I was used to; our walls were varying shades of blue, and some teachers liked to decorate them with bubbles and fish, but theirs were gray and worn down. I guessed they were meant to represent the districts.

"Welcome, everybody," a teacher I didn't know said. She wasn't from the Percy Jackson department, that I knew. "Each one of you has your name put in here once. Let's start with the gentlemen!"

She walked over to a big glass ball with a bunch of slips of paper, reached in, and grabbed one.

"Walker Norman," the teacher said.

I heard Lucas, Xavier, and Giovanni, along with many other boys, give a sigh of relief as the brown-eyed ginger boy (he's on the cover by the way) who must've been Walker went to stand next to the woman.

"Now for the ladies," the teacher said, walking over to another ball and pulling out a slip.

"Ah, let's see... Y/N L/N!"

Dead silence. Several other girls gave sighs of relief like the boys had. But I was still processing it.

Fiona's hand had found mine. She gave it a squeeze.

"Y/N L/N!" the woman repeated, sounding slightly annoyed. "Come up here, please."

I could see Janet in front of me smiling evilly as I made my way to the teacher.

"Shake hands, please," she said. "And no," she added, looking at Fiona, who's hand was raised, "you can't volunteer. Only Hunger Games fandom kids get to."