FOTIA - percy jackson

𝟎𝟎𝟏; our pre-algebra teacher

In Loralai's hopeful theory, if she helped satyrs collect enough demigods and got a quest, she would finally be enough for her unknown godly parent. She had severely overcompensated for the first part. The last part is where it became tricky.

Technically, going to collect demigods wasn't a quest. If she wanted a quest, she would need to find a problem, raise it to Chiron, go on a quest, then solve it.

Loralai was completely out of the loop. The older campers kept close the worries that wrinkled their faces, despite her begging them to tell her everything.

For now, she was stuck on another "mission" with Grover at a boarding school for misfits: Yancy Academy. Of course, at military schools, troubled students schools, etc. it was common to find half-bloods, but she was getting tired of the strict rules. On top of that, it sickened her to see how people who didn't "fit the box" were sent to a glorified prison.

Splat! The peanut butter and ketchup sandwich stuck to her hair further enhanced Loralai's distaste for school. The smell was enough to make her gag. She turned back to glare at Nancy Bobofit, someone who had been bothering Grover, her and the demigod they were there to collect, Percy, even since she arrived at Yancy. Seated at the back of the bus, Nancy just mocked the look as she laughed with her friends.

Not bothered to get another detention (or suspension, they started being tighter with her ever since her very intense fight in history class), she adjusted herself back into the bus seat, letting out a sigh.

Grover, sitting beside her, offered her a weak smile. "It'll be summer soon," he reminded her quietly, "look on the bright side." The thought of going back to camp made Loralai gleam, a smile that soon faltered when another sandwich catapulted towards them, smacking Grover's brown curly hair.

Mortals usually picked on Grover. He looked too old to be in their grade, with acne and a wispy beard beginning to grow on his chin. Being a satyr, it was hard to walk as mortals did. This added to the list of names Grover was called.

To the right of Loralai, she heard Percy mutter angrily, "I'm going to kill her." Immediately, Grover turned to console the boy, Loralai just let out a scoff. Like he could do anything. "It's okay, I like peanut butter," Grover mumbled sadly. The small decrease of calmness was instantly regained when Grover was forced to dodge another piece of Nancy's lunch.

Loralai rose from her seat. Percy did the same simultaneously, declaring, "That's it." Reaching out two hands to either side of him, the satyr pulled them both back onto their seats. "You're already on probation," he reminded them. "You know who'll get blamed if anything happens."

Percy glanced at Loralai. "And whose fault is that?" He grunted pettily. Sending him a warning look with her menacing amber eyes, Loralai almost decked Percy then and there. Looking back, she wished she did.

"That's what I thought, lava," he whispered when she said nothing in response. Calling her names with references to volcanoes was becoming his favorite insult. Loralai had protested repeatedly about how it wasn't even that good of an insult that had no correlation to herself. Percy quickly bit back, saying that she was like a volcano because she had continuously blown up at him out of nowhere. She had silently praised him for paying attention in English and using a simile.

It was growing harder and harder for her to contain her distaste for the boy. All she ever did was try to help him, especially in Chiron's class. Percy took her assistance as an insult to his intelligence. Logically, all demigods were hard-wired to read ancient Greek and have battle reflexes. These beautifully intentional improvements, however, did not help them in the mortal world. Eventually, she had stopped offering him help.