DEMIGODS. (Percico/Pernico)

˚‧º·Chapter Eight‧º·˚

I lied awake in my bed, writhing in excitement like a teenage girl who just got a new car. Perhaps it was just from the excessive caffeine I consumed from the can of Mountain Dew Nico gave me, but I felt anticipation for the morning, which was saying something, since I hate mornings.

The recordings that Nico showed me replayed in my mind; his pleasant singing voice rang in my ears as I stared up at my plain white ceiling. The posters on my wall were staring at my strange behavior, I felt, but I was too excited to care, or to sleep.

The way Nico played the solo part so expertly sent adrenaline through my veins and pleasant shivers throughout my body. I loved how the high notes of background vocals and the electric guitar complemented the song so beautifully. How a boy in his sophomore year of high school could conjure up a song like that blew my mind. Some people are naturally gifted, I knew, but he put so much passion into this that I was certain it was not just that he had an affinity for music. How much effort did he put into this? How many years did it take to learn how to arrange music? Did he have a particularly talented private instructor? Who knew.

The sound of my alarm jolted me from my thoughts. Tossing my covers to the side, I sat up in my bed, picking up my screaming phone and discontinuing the annoying noise. Thalia had sent me her usual good morning text, to which I immediately replied before placing it back on my nightstand. I stood up on my coarse carpet, not nearly as soft on my feet as the one in Nico's room, and made my way to my dresser to pick out my outfit for the day.

After a quick shower, which consisted of me washing my hair and singing a Panic! at the Disco song loudly in a shampoo bottle, I dried my hair, dressed myself, and tried to tame the unruly black mane that sat on top of my head. That never worked, unless I used some gel, but, then again, I hated the feeling of it in my hair.

I rushed down the stairs the way I always did: sideways with my hand brushing the thin banister, and I glimpsed in the kitchen to see if Mom decided to make breakfast. She did, to my elation.

She handed me my plate of blue pancakes, which she only made when she was in a good mood. I cast a smile at her.

"Thanks, Mom."

"No problem, sweetie."

She ruffled my hair, and I sent a half-hearted glare in her direction.

"Mom, I just brushed it."

"It didn't look like it."

"It never looks like it, Mom."

"I guess you're right."

I sat down at the table, burying my fork into the spongy pancake, which was filled with melted chocolate chips and was completely covered in syrup: the way I like it. I hummed in contentment as I slid a bite in my mouth.

Paul entered the kitchen. He ruffled my hair as well, which earned an irritated expression, but he only laughed. He kissed my mom goodbye.

"Hey, Perce, do you want a ride?" he offered.

"Nah, I'm okay," I told him. "I'll drive. Thanks, though."

He nodded before he bade us goodbye and left the house through the back door.

I quickly finished my breakfast and left the kitchen, but not before kissing my mom goodbye. I slipped on my shoes, slung my backpack over my shoulder, snatched my car keys off the counter, and followed Paul out the door. I made a beeline for my car, a blue vehicle that my father bought for me for my sixteenth birthday. It was not necessarily new, but it worked just fine and the gas mileage was not too demanding.

I inserted the key into the ignition, turning it away from me to start the engine. As it hummed to life, I flipped through the channels on the radio until I found a decent station. Then, checking the time, I pulled it out of park and into drive, carefully directing the car out of its parallel-park position.

The commute to school did not take very long; it never did. The school was just outside our neighborhood, but too far away for me to be inclined to walk. Besides, I loved my baby blue.

My usual parking spot had been taken due to my late departure from my house, so I had to spend a little while trying to find another place to park. I spotted Nico climbing out of the passenger seat of a silver car that belonged to his older sister. I smiled and waved at him, an action which caused him to blush slightly and meekly wave back.

After finding a place to safely leave my car, I locked it and walked toward the school, my backpack hanging off my shoulder and my car keys in my back pocket.

I ventured to my locker, readying for my first period, when I heard it.

"Buenos nachos, Valdez," a male voice teased.

I sighed and rolled my eyes. I was no hero, but when one of my band mates was in trouble, I would help.

I turned the corner to see Leo pinned against some lockers by Luke Castellan, Ethan Nakamura standing beside him. Now these guys were the school bullies. Clarisse and Octavian teased me every now and then, but Luke and Ethan went after anyone who was vulnerable. I don't know why; maybe it was to compensate for the joy that was missing from their lives, but I was not going to stand for Leo getting bullied. He was my elated drummer that loved what he did and always cracked jokes to make everyone laugh.

"What's going on here?" I asked.

"Ah, Percy! Thanks, buddy!"

"Shut it, El Mexicano."

He glowered at him—a face I never thought Leo was capable of making.

"I think you should step away from him. He didn't do anything to you."

He shrugged with a sheepish laugh.

"Unless he did. But, still, leave him alone."

"Percy Jackson, huh?" Luke asked in an amused tone. "I heard you joined the Band-Off. Don't get too defensive, we were just checking out the competition."

"You probably should find another way to take care of this, guys. C'mon, Leo. We gotta get to class."

"Don't get your hopes up, Jackson," Luke mused. "We are going to win that Band-Off. Just you wait."

I rolled my eyes as I beckoned to Leo, who eagerly followed me, escaping his tormentors.