DEMIGODS. (Percico/Pernico)

˚‧º·Chapter Two‧º·˚

"So, Annabeth," I started, leaning against the desk beside the one she was sitting in.

I stayed up nearly all night out of excitement. My mind would not rest. It kept racing and asking new questions that caught my interest more than my need for sleep ever could. I tried to sleep, I really did, but my brain would not let me. I had to suffer from lack of sleep this morning, but I thought to myself that it didn't matter.

"What?" asked the blonde girl, her stormy, grey eyes not leaving the book she held in her hands.

"Thals and I are starting a band," I said. "I was wondering, it's just an idea, would you be interested in joining? You could be, like, the keyboardist."

"Why would I waste my free time on a band?"

"Annabeth, please," I pleaded. "There's a Band-Off in April, and if our band wins, we can get a scholarship."

Annabeth finally looked up from her book. "A scholarship? A musical one?"

"Yeah," I shrugged. "I would love to get it."

Annabeth sighed defeatedly. "Sure. As long as we win."

"Yep, I'm planning on it," I responded. "I also heard your friend is good at singing. Maybe we could ask her to join too?"

"I can ask her," Annabeth told me, her eyes trained upon the words on the pages of the book she was reading. "Shouldn't you be getting to class?"

"Working on it," I told her.

God, this was going to be a long day. I felt it.

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"So, Perce," Thalia leaned in and whispered to me while Mr. (or Professore, he tried to have us address him) di Angelo was writing this week's vocabulary words on the whiteboard. "Where are we gonna practice? At my house or yours?"

"I was thinking mine, in the garage," I replied. "It's out of the way, and my mom wouldn't appreciate the loud noises if we practiced inside."

"Yeah, that's a good idea," Thalia agreed. "My dad would throw a fit."

"Right? Your dad's really dramatic." I didn't realize that Mr. di Angelo's arms were crossed over his chest in annoyance, and when I looked up, my excitement deflated.

"Detention, Mr. Jackson."

I nodded in understanding; this wasn't the first time I got detention for talking during his class this year. My mom was going to be upset at me.

"Now, since we're all done conversing, let's review the definitions for these words."

♩ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♭ ♮ ♯

I sat in the Principal's Office for what seemed like hours. I already had texted my mom and told her I got detention again. She responded accordingly, and told me no car for a week. That's a fair punishment, but I still felt heavy disappointment. I was probably going to take Annabeth out that weekend. It depended on how much homework I was assigned by the Devil himself, who had taken the human form of a middle-aged man with a wicked beard that taught high school students Italian.

This time, fortunately, we only had to sit in a quiet, empty classroom and do homework until detention time was over. And, by we, I meant me and some curly-haired boy I've seen around the school once or twice. I think he was a grade below me, but I wasn't sure. He was tapping around like crazy, and I just assumed he had ADHD like me. He was currently disassembling a pen and reassembling it, then clicking it repeatedly while he struggled with some of his homework.