The End of an Olympian

03 | Throwing Punches

The rest of the day was uneventful. I taught my classes, overheard gossiping teachers, and set up my room for tomorrow's lesson. Not much had to be done, but I stayed late to decorate the room some more. Not too many decorations to be distracting, but enough so that the room wasn't another rectangular prison, or at least, less of one. I was just about done when I heard a knock on my door. When I went to open it, Caleb was standing there.

1900 words

Percy

Caleb was standing in the doorway to my classroom. I think all students and most teachers had already left, so I was quite perplexed as to why he was still at school.

"Mr. Zahlar? What are you still doing here?" I asked.

"Sorry, I don't mean to bother you," Caleb said, though a little uncomfortably.

"Not a bother. Is there anything I can do for you?"

I noticed he looked less on edge compared to this morning. Hopefully, he got some well-needed rest in my class. It would certainly have improved his mood for his following classes.

"Uhh... Yeah...," he started, "I was hoping... umm... if you wouldn't mark me as tardy today. I know I was late and I was rude when I came in and all, but I was technically in the building and it's not like you were doing anything..."

I decided to stop him from whatever hole he was about to dig himself.

"Mr. Zahlar, I didn't mark you late today. It's the first day, so I think we can let this slide. Don't you?"

Caleb's eyes grew a little wider at my interruption. His mouth hung open for a second before he replied, "Thank you, Dr. Jackson! I won't be late again."

"Hopefully not, but all I ask is for you to try. Is there anything else you'd like to talk about?"

And before you say anything, yes, I've lived long enough to have gotten several PhDs in chemistry, toxicology, marine biology, ancient history, and linguistics (remember, Athena taught me quite a lot, including a few languages). So the students correctly refer to me as Dr. Jackson.

"No, sir," he shook his head. "I'll just be going then."

"Alright," I nodded. "See you tomorrow."

"Bye."

For an entire month after, Caleb was never late to my class. I can't say he never fell asleep again, and he managed to be late for all his other classes, but he was putting in the effort. He was (not too surprisingly) good at Latin. As were were Michaela and Flora. Although, if I taught them Greek, they'd probably learn it much quicker. They picked up on the "myths" pretty easily too. Michaela had the highest grade in my class (not surprising at all). She got into trouble for her impulsive behavior but kept up her grades (except English) despite all the detentions received. Flora excelled at art and, funny enough, science. She was great at chemistry that had anything to do with wavelengths or pigmentations. This was middle school though, so nothing was in-depth enough for normal teachers to recognize her intelligence.

Other than that, I was having a hard time getting to know them. Michaela and Flora opened up about themselves just fine, but Caleb never wanted to share. He would always deflect personal questions or he got defensive. I could tell that his two friends were extremely loyal (Hi! God of loyalty!), so they wouldn't be giving up any information. If, that is, they had anything to give up. Regardless, things were going smoothly. We had a few satyrs on standby in case monsters attacked and we alerted any older demigods that lived outside the camps that three young demigods might be heading their way. Should one of the veterans run into them, they said they'd offer help and protection. But ever since New Athens was built as an extension of Camp Half-Blood, most demigod families took up residence there.