DEMIGODS. (Percico/Pernico)

˚‧º·Chapter Seven‧º·˚

"That was..." Jason began.

"Actually amazing, bro!" Leo finished. "You wrote that?"

Nico grew nervous at all the attention, but he answered anyway, drawing his tired fingers back from his keyboard. "Y-yeah, I did."

"All by yourself?" Thalia asked.

He nodded.

"See, I told you! Genius. Exactly what we needed. With this, guys, we can win!" I said.

They all seemed in agreement with my words, which made Nico flustered, but he soon smiled at our hopefulness.

"Yeah, that'd be cool. I need a scholarship, anyway," Nico said almost sheepishly.

I clapped him on the shoulder with a confident smile before we called it quits on the current practice, packed up, and everyone went home. Nico asked shyly for a ride, as he did not have his driver's license yet and his phone died so he couldn't contact his sister. I agreed, snatching my keys off the counter and telling my mom where we were going.

Nico di Angelo lived in the North Side District, which was about two miles from my own house. He told me his older sister, Bianca, usually gave him rides to school, as she was a junior this year.

It was a cozy little neighborhood, almost like a cul de sac. He lived in a house bigger than mine; it had two floors, a wrap around porch, and a balcony on the top floor. It was a cozy gray, nesting in the halos of nearby street lamps. It had a neat, white picket fence that matched the porch and the trim of the house. At the front was a deep red door, almost a maroon. I could see glimpses of a pool in his backyard. The only question in my mind was, "How could a teacher live in this kind of house with his salary?"

Nico smiled at me, thanking me for the ride as he pulled his backpack out of the front seat. He walked around the front of my car, slinging his black backpack over his shoulder. As he approached the front steps, he hesitated and turned around to face me.

"Would you like to come inside? I could show you a couple of things I think are pretty cool."

I was not looking forward to seeing Mr. di Angelo outside of school, so I was preparing to politely decline.

"My dad's not home," he quickly added, seeing my facial expression.

With that in mind, I shrugged, putting the car into its park mode, and took the keys from the ignition. I slid them into my back pocket as I walked up the steps to the higher end house, Nico at my side. He took his key out of his pocket, which was hanging off a Black Parade keychain. I smiled at that; I had him figured for a My Chemical Romance fan. I liked them too, in their prime.

Once he unlocked the door, he flicked on the light and kicked off his shoes at the mat. I followed suit, closing the door behind me. He threw his backpack on the nearest chair.

Now that the dim room was bathed in light, I could properly look around. The floor was hardwood with a shiny chestnut-colored finish. I imagined sliding down the hallways in my socks. The walls were white and the ceilings were lower than I expected them to be, but from them, there hung bright, modern, circular lights. A large piano sat against the wall. The chairs and couch, brown and plush, were all placed to face a modest coffee table. A flat-screen television was mounted on the wall, above an unlit digital fireplace. On the wall, there hung pictures in dark frames of Nico, Bianca, Mr. di Angelo, and a dark-haired woman I'd never seen before. I assumed she was his mom.

Houseplants sat beside the furniture, fashioned like the ones you would see in a lobby of a hotel or an orthodontist's waiting room. On side tables sat modern lamps, magazines, remotes, and PlayStation 4 controllers.