Alternatively

Summer Daze

"My hero is my neighbor, Percy Jackson, in 4C."

The girl in the back of the class shuffled, tugging on her braid. The boy next to her was making a paper airplane out of gum wrappers. The teacher nodded at Charlie to continue.

"He's very tall and has dark hair and gives me cookies," he rushed, reading from the note cards he had prepared two weeks before. "One time, he let me play Mario Kart with him and he let me win, even though he was better than me."

The fan in the corner buzzed and he felt the sun hit him especially hard. It was the last day of school and he was the last student to present their hero project, seeing as he had been out sick for the past couple days. He could tell his classmates were getting antsy and standing in front of an agitated audience made his knees shake.

"Because of that, I know he is nice. He also helps my mom with groceries sometimes, so he is helpful. He tells lots of jokes and makes me laugh, but he also tells really good stories about his summer camp. Did you know that a pegasus can't eat strawberries?"

Some kids perked up, looking at him with wondering eyes. The teacher cocked her head.

"Yeah," Charlie breathed out. "He fed some to his pegasus, Blackjack, and he got very gassy. So Percy is good with animals."

"Charlie-"

"He fights gods and monsters all the time, so he is very strong. He told me about the time he and his friends fought the Titan of Time and saved the world."

By then, the whole class was intently listening and Charlie was gaining confidence, scarcely looking at his cards to talk.

"Percy's girlfriend once held up the sky for a whole three days," he announced. "Did you know the sky is actually really heavy? Percy held it up too, but only for a few minutes. They got these matching streaks in their hair, like a souvenir."

"But Charlie," the teacher urged. "Why is Percy really your hero?"

The question baffled him; didn't he just explain that? "He's smart and brave and protects us, why wouldn't he be my hero?"

The bell rang shrilly for lunch and immediately, his class flooded the door in a mass exodus. He tried to follow them, but his teacher called him back.

Gripping his note cards, he shuffled back to where she sat. He didn't like the look of disappointment on her face; it was a look that usually meant his was in trouble.

"The assignment was to write about your hero," she started. "I can't honestly say you completed your task ."

"But I did!"

"Your project was supposed to be nonfiction, meaning the truth. I can't give you credit for the stories you made up."

He couldn't believe it.

"But if you work through recess to make up for it, I will let you present when everyone comes back and give you full credit."

"But Ms. Parker," he whined. "I worked really hard on this one."

She, at least, was sympathetic, holding out her hand for the cards. "And you did great, but maybe explain how Percy is a hero in real life, not his stories."

"He is a hero and they're not just stories," Charlie grumbled, looking to the window to avoid her eyes.

"Tales of centaurs and prophecies...those aren't reasons to make someone your hero. If it's easier, you can write about your parents."

He didn't want to write about his parents, he wanted to write about Percy Jackson in apartment 4C.

"Charlie?"