❝ Does being a Child of Hermes automatically make you good at flirting? Or was that just a skill you picked up? ❞
Andromeda Jackson knew she was not cut out for the demigod life, and that was before she heard about her death from the creepy oracle i...
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ℑ had become completely sure that they were gaslighting me after the weird school trip where I committed a minor felony. My entire school was now convinced, and attempting to convince me that Miss Kerr had been our teacher, not the crazy bat lady.
I was so close to believing that I was in the wrong (after springing multiple Mrs. Dodds references on them all), but unfortunately Grover had the lying ability of a two year old.
If I mentioned the name Mrs. Dodds, he started to tap his leg like he was trying to think of how to answer me. I immediately knew I was right. I just had to prove it.
Unfortunately, most of my days were taken up with failing all of my classes, but at night, the vision of the creepy bat hag plagued me. I would often wake up in a cold sweat, to the sound of freak weather outside of my window.
So, all in all, my mood was not exactly brilliant, and that might have been the reason that I called my English teacher a cranky old twat, and got myself expelled. All I will say is that he was chewing out the dyslexic kid for not being able to spell fast enough for him? What did he want me to do?
But, strangely, I really couldn't care less. I wanted to be back at home, with my mom, in our shoebox apartment on the Upper East Side, even if it meant putting up with my awful stepfather, his downright creepy friends and the poker parties he had. The only thing I would miss was Grover, and the view of the Hudson River from my dorm room.
I'd miss Latin class, too—Mr. Brunner's crazy tournament days and his faith that I could do well (which we all knew was a complete lie).
Exam week crept closer (much to my complete and utter dismay) and in typical Andromeda fashion, I hadn't bothered to study for any test that wasn't Latin. His was the only opinion that I cared about.
The night before the exam, I finally gave up studying, tossing my cards onto the bed, as I rubbed my eyes. Words were spinning around my head like cartoon birds after someone had been hit on a show. I didn't know how I was going to be able to remember the difference between Chiron and Charon or Zeus and a dick. Also, conjugating verbs could take a nosedive out the window, because there was no way I was remembering that.
I rubbed my forehead, before remembering Mr. Brunner's words. He'd told me that if I ever needed help, I could always go and see him and I'd get help.
Grabbing the mythology book off of the floor, I took off towards the faculty offices down the hall. Most of them were dark, the teachers having disappeared long ago, but his door was slightly ajar, and warm light spewed from the window.
