Mortals Meet Percabeth

Sophia Jackson

High School. The experience that's been through millions of tropes in several movies. From Mean Girls to Riverdale to Kissing Booth to several cheesy rom coms. The experience that's supposed to be about learning. Learning about yourself and learning for your future. 

My twin sister and I started as sophomores at a new high school earlier this year. My twin's name is Marissa and she's a lot like me while simultaneously not being like me. I have curly blonde hair. She has curly black hair. I have grey eyes, she has grey eyes and needs glasses. We're both smart, her more streetsmart, me always more booksmart. Both daughters of the infamous demigods Percy and Annabeth Jackson. And we've always been friends. Well, until this year. 

Marissa and I started developing our own interests and our own friends. Marissa started hanging out with stereotypical skaters. From the baggy jeans and beanies to the chains and converse, Olivia, Mason and Rex were scaling  every single halfpipe or whatever. Marissa, who hadn't skated a day in her life, suddenly started coming home from the skate park at midnight. She'd then proceed to wake up at 8 am on weekends, drink black coffee, and then go and out with her gorgeous alternative girlfriend Kari.  She also managed to lift her grades from her usual Cs to Bs and her ADHD hasn't been as bad as when we were kid, and with her win in the god-blood genetic lottery to not get dyslexia, she's basically gotten her life together. 

Then there's me. This new high school hasn't been as good to me as Marissa. I managed to make one friend, Harper, who wears dresses everyday, wears rubber duck earrings, and gets straight As. My grades, continued on their journey downhill. Before I started high school, I managed to barely keep straight As. In freshman year, I had several Bs and a couple of Cs. Now first semester of sophomore year, all I have to show for the several all nighters, mental breakdowns, and sparknotes are a handful of Cs,  two Ds, and an F. It seems as if my former gifted kid status has been cemented. 

My friendship with Harper seems to be the only good thing this new school has brought. Besides the lowering of my grades, I also was dumped by my first boyfriend, had several medication changes for my horrific dyslexia and ADHD, broke my wrist, got the flu, and got a whole weeks worth of detention for skipping class with the aforementioned boyfriend. 

Now, I'm sitting in the main office waiting for my parents to arrive, arms crossed, legs stretched out. My grey sweatshirt is bundled messily in my crossed arms.  The secretary sits at her desk, looking at me every once in a while. 

Why am I in the office? An outburst after my teacher in 8th period chemistry gave me my failed grade on our final exam, solidifying my first fail in a class. I was sobbing, a classmate poked fun at it and then the next thing I knew I was swearing at Mrs. Perez, she was calling me out for being sassy and crude-mouthed and now I'm here. 

I tap my fingers loosely on the cast on my arm, waiting for my parents to arrive. The great Annabeth and Percy Jackson. Demigod heroes. I don't know that much about my parents' life outside of most of the godly stuff and snippets of their school night. All I know, is that they probably aren't going to be too happy with me. 

At that moment, my mom walks into the room. Annabeth Jackson. Head CEO of Olympus Architecture. She's dressed in a black suit and holding a grey bag. Her blonde curls were in a loose bun and her grey eyes sparked. The second she stepped in the room she turns to me. 

"Sophia! Honey, what happened?" She crouched down next to me as if I was a toddler.

"I'm in trouble," I said, gesturing towards the secretary. 

"I assume you're Sophia's mother?" the secretary questioned, looking towards my mom. Mom rose. 

"Yes, I am. Why is my daughter here? You weren't very specific in your call."