T is For Terrified

After a long, taxing day of dealing with ornery students, all Paul Blofis wanted to do was curl up on the couch with The Night Circus—a novel he was currently enthralled in. Maybe he and Sally could watch that new documentary about Madam Tussuads after dinner. Either way, a calm, relaxing evening that included no shocks or surprises sounded wonderful, to put it lightly.

     He really needed to learn to lower his expectations.  

     Things started out well enough. He arrived at Sally's—wait, their—apartment early, as subway traffic had been so light. When Paul walked in the door, he was greeted by the smells of tomatoes and rosemary cooking. Sighing happily, he hung up his coat and set his briefcase by the door.

     In the kitchen, Sally greeted him with a warm smile and a kiss on his cheek. She had flour on her cheek and pencils in her brown hair. His wife was, Paul thought, completely adorable.

     "Hey, honey. How was your day?" she asked, her plaid apron swishing as she turned back to the stove.

     Paul gave her a grudging look. "It didn't know there were so many ways to complain about a pop quiz, or misspell 'paradox'," he admitted. "Yours?"

     She laughed, absently flicking through a recipe book. "Alright, actually. Dinner should be ready soon."

     "Okay, great," he said, beaming at her messy, lopsided bun. He leaned over and placed his elbows on the counter. "Where's Percy?"

     "He and Annabeth are in the living room, doing homework. Oh, she's going to stay for dinner tonight."

     Paul smiled. "Great." He liked Percy's girlfriend. She was a nice girl, and Annabeth was very interesting to talk to.

     Paul walked through the kitchen's doorway, and into the small living room. As promised, his stepson and Annabeth sat on the floor, textbooks strewn around them. The blonde laid on her stomach, writing in a small, even hand. She looked up at the sound of Paul's footsteps, giving him a "hello" smile, which he returned. Her boyfriend sat with his back against the sofa, glaring at a sheet of paper. When Paul stepped across the room, Percy looked up at him, frowning.

     "Um, Paul? I need to include three hyperboles in this Acrostic poem, and it's only supposed to have five sentences—I mean lines," Percy told him, looking at the paper like it was about to burst into flames.

     The English teacher sighed, sitting down on the couch. As much as he was sick of teaching that day, his duties as stepdad still called. But, helping one student instead of sixty didn't sound so bad.

     "Well, what's your topic?" he asked.

     Percy started to say something, but was interrupted by a terrified scream from Annabeth.

     "Wha-what's wrong?" the boy gasped, flinching. He frantically looked around the room, as though he expected to see a monster. His girlfriend didn't answer as she practically flung herself at Percy.

     "Kill it kill it kill it Percy kill it," she desperately muttered, pressing close against him, as though he could protect her from some unspeakable evil.       

     "Um, what…" he mumbled, patting Annabeth's back awkwardly. Percy continued to gaze around the room, a crease between his eyebrows. His eyes wandered over the walls, before landing on a black spot by the mirror. His shoulders slumped in relief, the reason for which Paul did not know. "That it?" he asked, cocking his head towards the wall. A smile played across his lips.

     Annabeth looked up at him, exasperated. "Yes, Seaweed Brain. Kill. It. Now."

     "I will, if you'll let me stand up," the boy said, extracting himself from her grasp. He got up, grabbed a napkin off the coffee table, and strode over to the cream colored wall. Percy stood there, weapon poised a few inches above the little smudge. It skittered away, and Paul realized that the thing was a small spider. Despite its plea for escape, Percy clamped the soft paper over it. Satisfied, he tossed the paper into a waste basket, and sat back down next to Annabeth.

     "It's dead," he proclaimed, gently taking one of Annabeth's hands off her face and giving it a squeeze. She sighed in relief, all the tension draining out of her face.

     "Thanks, Percy," she muttered. A blush slowly crept up her face. Annabeth gave Paul a sheepish smile. "Um, sorry about that. You know my mom is Athena, right?" Paul nodded, confused. "And you've heard the story about her and Arachne?"

     "Oh, the one where Athena turned her into a spider?" Paul asked.

     "Exactly. Well, since that happened, all of her—Arachne's—children have this uncanny ability for finding Athena's demigod kids. And, in turn, we are absolutely terrified of them," she concluded.  

     "Um, I…see," Paul said, trying to wrap his brain around what the blonde had told him. The laws and history of Greek mythology confused him, despite his prior knowledge of it. The fact that it was all real was absolutely mind boggling, and as soon as he grasped a concept, something else came along to surprise him.

     "Okay, so. About this poem…" Percy reminded, grabbing a notebook of the floor.

     As—erm—interesting as it was, Paul had to admit he liked living with the Jacksons. It certainly wasn't boring, at least.