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Leo XXII

"Leo XXII," Clarisse read.

Leo didn't bother to complain. Listening to his thoughts was better than reading after all.

He rolled up his sleeves.

THEY STOOD IN THE COURTYARD of an old compound, like a monastery. Red brick walls were overgrown with vines. Big magnolia trees had cracked the pavement. The sun beat down, and the humidity was about two hundred percent, even stickier than in Houston.

The demigods frowned as they listened to the description.

"Where are they?" Katie wondered.

"It's too soon to tell..." Annabeth trailed off, thinking of places Sammy and Hazel could've met. "It could be a school."

"Well, schools are a monstrosity..." Connor pretended to consider. Clarisse rolled her eyes.

"I said monastery not monstrosity, dummy." she snorted.

... The courtyard was about the size of a basketball court. An old deflated football sat in one corner, at the base of a Virgin Mary statue.

"Where are we?" he asked.

"My old school," Hazel said next to him. "St. Agnes Academy for Colored Children and Indians."

The demigods' jaws dropped. The gods winced and grimaced.

"She really went to a school like that?" Travis said in disbelief.

"Hazel was born in the 1920s," Nico said, his upper lip curled in disgust. "That's what happened during that time period."

The demigods shifted uncomfortably. It was one thing to learn about what happened in history books, but to hear someone they knew go through such an experience left a bad taste in their mouths.

"What kind of name—?"

He turned toward Hazel and yelped. She was a ghost—just a vaporous silhouette in the steamy air.

The demigods' eyes widened.

Leo looked down and realized his own body had turned to mist too.

Some of the teens shuddered.

"Wh-Why are they like that?" Lacy nervously asked.

"They're not actually at the school, they're in a memory. That's why they're transparent." Nico explained, twisting his skull ring.

"Like A Christmas Carol..." Annabeth mused.

Percy couldn't help but grin. "Yeah, that's one way to put it."

The son of Hades rolled his eyes.

Seeing this, Annabeth couldn't help but frown. She chose to ignore his reaction and focus on the story.

..."This is a memory," Hazel said, "so no one will see us. Look, here we come."

"We?"

"Does she mean 'we' as in 'Sammy and I' or 'you and I'?" she wondered.

Leo shrugged, he pulled out a couple erasers.

"Could be a little of both." he said awkwardly. Leo couldn't help but feel a sense of discomfort towards what was to come, when his cooler look-alike comes to steal the show.

From every door, dozens of children spilled into the courtyard, yelling and jostling each other.

They were mostly African American, with a sprinkling of Hispanic-looking kids, as young as kindergartners and as old as high schoolers. Leo could tell this was in the past, because all the girls wore dresses and buckled leather shoes. The boys wore white collared shirts and pants held up by suspenders.