𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐍, Selene didn't want to be a Goddess...
She was a normal fifteen-year-old-class president, a dedicated ballerina at Manhattan's MS-54, and Percy Jackson's math tutor.
One fateful night shattered her reality when the ancient Greek myths...
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Selene never made it home that night.
However, the story began a few weeks earlier...
"Are you sure you can handle your schedule?"
Selene was at one of MS-54's empty classrooms, talking to her supervisor professor. She was a little lady, not older than fifty, who strangely always wore a black leather jacket.
"Don't worry, Mrs. Dodds," Selene reassured, taking the note from her hands. "I could use some extra money."
SALLY JACKSON, (917)308-4030 UPPER EAST SIDE, NEW YORK.
"So..." She read the paper, "Sally Jackson is my student?"
"Oh, no," Mrs. Dodds chuckled. Her voice, low and almost raspy, instilled a hint of unease in Selene. A peculiar elderly lady, yet oddly pleasant. "Sally is the mother. You'll be tutoring Percy, her son. He's new in here."
"Okay. He's in eighth grade? That'll be a breeze," Selene smiled. "I'll be fine, Mrs. Dodds. Wednesdays, Fridays and Saturdays at three o'clock. Fifty minutes won't kill me."
Mrs. Dodds closed her suitcase, "Percy Jackson is a little of a challenge. Don't think it'll be so easy, little girl."
"How difficult could an eighth-grader be?" She laughed.
Mrs. Dodds just smiled at her. A smile that could either mean, he's the most annoying person you'll ever encounter, or, Percy is actually a disabled person with learning difficulties. Either way, her facial expression meant she knew something Selene didn't.
"How's dance practice going, White Swan?" Mrs. Dodds pointed at her.
Selene, having just emerged from practice, wore a sleeveless leotard—a snug, body-hugging suit—and pink tights. Her hair was gathered in a bun, and she carried her sports bag over her shoulder.
"It's okay—auditions are starting right after Christmas Break. I've been hitting classes almost every day, thanks to you. I can't thank you enough for sorting out this financial aid, Professor."
"Don't thank me, little girl. Thank your sponsor—" she winked at her, "whoever it may be."
Mrs. Dodds's words lingered in the air as they exited the classroom. The corridors had a few people walking around, talking to each other, going for their own classes.
"You can go talk to the boy, Percy. He's still around. He has more classes than usual, as, you see, he's dyslexic..." She seemed to be suppressing a laugh. "My guess is he's on the third floor right now, in the boy's bathroom..."
Selene nodded. She finds Mrs. Dodds weird as she speaks in a strange manner, almost inhumane. But then again, she's always been like this.
"Thanks, Mrs. Dodds. I'm gonna find him, then. Say hi or something. See you tomorrow."
