The School Life of The Other Demon

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Demetria's P.O.V.:

"Hey, Demetria!"

I turn my head to find Nguyen approaching us with a wide smile. I cock my eyebrow at the boy, wondering why this random child is calling my name. "Yes?"

"Why the sour attitude?" he asks, stopping in front of me and stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"Sour?" I ask him.

"Yeah...sour," he repeats as if repeating it a second time would help me understand.

"He's ticking," I hear Jon whisper, loud enough for only Damian and I to hear.

"What do you want, Nguyen?" Damian says, glaring at Nguyen.

"Definitely not you, Wayne," he retorts, glaring back. He turns his attention to me, his glare softening. "But you," he says, pointing at me, "Wayne, I want to talk to."

"No," Damian growls, crossing his arms.

"I didn't ask." Nguyen's attention quickly moves from Damian to Jon, his eyebrows cocking in curiosity. "Who's the nerd in glasses?"

Jon cocks his eyebrow and turns around, looking behind him, only to find empty space. "There's no one there," he says, turning back around, pure confusion written on his face.

"Is he okay?" Nguyen asks, leaning towards me.

"I know not of what you mean," I sigh.

"Glasses?" Jon whispers, looking around the gym. "I mean there are a few people with glasses in the gym. So you have to be a little be more—"

"I'm talking about you, dumbass," Nguyen yells, irked by Jon.

"Watch it," Damian growls at the boy.

"Me?" Jon asks, pointing to himself. He puts his hand up to his face. "But I don't wear g—oh." Putting his hand up, he touches his face, coming to the realization that his "disguise" consists of glasses. "I forgot about those."

"How do you forget that you're blind?" Nguyen asks.

"You'd be surprised," Jon says, shrugging his shoulders.

He squints his eyes at Jon as if he's trying to remember something. "You know. You look familiar."

"I-I do?"

"Yeah...Are you from Metropolis?"

The three of us stiffen, the worst of the worst possibilities entering our brains. Does he know?

"Y-Yes?"

"Hmm."

"Maybe it's because you've seen my parents before. They're both reporters," Jon covers. "Clark Kent and Lois Lane-Kent."

"Oh! Yeah," he says snapping his fingers.

"Okay, so now that you've had your little, what you city people call "diddle-daddling". I suggest that you leave."

"Or what?" he asks, crossing his arms.

"Or else I'll rip you to shreds and feed you to the demons of hell. Or, whatever is left of you after we use you for sacrificial purposes," he growls, glaring at the taller male.

My eyes widen at Damian's words. "For real?!" I ask in excitement.

"No."

"Tch."

Nguyen squints his eyes at Damian as if he's trying to understand what had just happened. "That," he says. "That was Ancient Greek."