Curveballs

"The question is, are they true?" "Course they're not. Demigods don't exist." "And Percy isn't tough enough to handle being one anyways. Right Percy? You don't have a camp necklace or a magic sword or a shield in your wristwatch. Right?" One-shot.

ooo

Three things cannot be long hidden: the sun, the moon, and the truth.

-Buddha

ooo

Percy Jackson returns to school on a Thursday in mid-March, and judging by his new appearance, suspects the rumors will begin circulating before second period. Unsurprisingly, by his second class of the day, it seems that the only thing people are capable of doing is whispering and staring at him from behind locker doors, classroom windows, and even their fellow peers. Obviously they're looking at him and his newest souvenirs – there are so many new scars on his arms and legs and face and neck, it'd be impossible to not notice them on a mere boy – from Tartarus, and the entire half of his hair that's turned light grey from the stress of his double life.

Still, he had at least expected maybe a warm welcome back from the girls that would follow him around during changing periods, or concerned questions from his teachers, or maybe even an enormous stack of homework from that TA that seems to hate him with every bone in her body. Although a bit off topic given the situation he's in right now, Percy absently wonders if she's another monster.

What Percy Jackson didn't expect upon his return from a year and a half of silence was the cold shoulder that seemed to be coming from everyone, including his small group of friends. There were times when someone would approach, hands shaking from nerves, only to back down as soon as Percy flashed them what he had hoped was a reassuring smile.

His first attempt at talking to somebody was a flop – he'd approached Jeremy, one of his best friends from the varsity swim team, while he was at his locker. After what he had hoped was an enthusiastic "Hey!" a guarded hello in response, and then a series of brief sideways glances, Percy had cut right to the chase. He'd tried to start up a conversation and address why Percy seemed to have gone from Mr. Popular to the weird kid who sits near the garbage cans during lunch practically overnight. One word out of Percy's mouth that had more than three letters, one syllable, and an awkward exclamation point tacked onto the end and Jeremy had hightailed it out of there, leaving his locker wide open and his textbooks spilling out onto the linoleum floor.

The next try, an advancement on his hard ass, take-no-shit friend, Kylie, another swimmer, was almost as bad. He had run into her in the middle of a crowded hallway, and before she had the chance to give him he slip, his hand was clenched firmly around her small bicep. She'd had no qualms over kicking him hard in the shin, despite the heavy brown boots she was wearing, and ducking into the girl's bathroom.

It wasn't until his third try that Percy Jackson finally got some answers, from Kylie's twin brother, Jason. As Percy approached, Jason looked around hurriedly to ensure no one was watching. Percy cornered him after chemistry and demanded to know what was going on. A stuttered promise to bring everyone by at lunch came tumbling off his tongue before he knew what was happening. 'Everyone' entailed the small group of friends Percy had put together in freshman year, and consisted of Kylie, Jason, Jeremy, and Allie, the only other Fish who had been trying out for a spot on the varsity team.

So Percy was contempt, and practically wandered dreamily through the first half of his first day back at Goode, satisfied with how close he was to finally understanding what was happening. None of his teachers bothered with getting him to try and pay attention. Whenever he glanced at them, or met their eyes, they looked… scared almost.

Weird.

Lunch would not come fast enough.

Percy waited for them at their usual table – the one in the back of the cafeteria near the windows. It was the smallest one the school had, only enough room for six people, so Kylie had immediately claimed it for them. No one else had cared to argue in the table's defense, and from then on it was officially known as 'Percy's table'.

The first people to arrive were Kylie and Jason (they always brought their lunch, preferring whatever they could find in their pantry over whatever the overworked, underpaid lunch ladies chose to feed them), who both sat down as far away as they could from Percy. He shot the twins a weird look, which they fidgeted under and tried fruitlessly to ignore, and went back to eating his turkey and cheese sandwich.

Jeremy and Allie arrived five minutes later, and joined the twins in sitting opposite their intense friend. The demigod pushed his foam tray to the side and rested his elbows and forearms on the table like people always tell you not to.

"What's up?" he questioned, and Jeremy fidgeted under his forceful gaze. The sea green of Percy's glare seemed to darken until his eyes were practically black.

"Oh, we just… you know…" Jason stutters, at the same time that Kylie demands, "Do you know who Rick Riordan is?" with an accusatory tone.

Percy recoiled at the question. Sure, he'd heard of the guy. Allie was a huge bookworm, and always seemed to be going on about the latest bestseller; but no. Percy had never met him and he'd certainly never read any of his work before.

"No," he ventured cautiously. "Why?"

His friends exchanged a hesitant glance.

"Well…" Allie began. "I was at the bookstore, see, because I wanted to see if they were selling Allegiant yet, because I loved Divergent and Insurgent, and then… I saw an interesting book… It wasn't very popular, it looked kind of dusty and it still smelled new, but the title caught my eye…" she trailed off and her face went bright red. She quickly shoved her face into her hands and lowered her head, too upset to go on.

"Oh, for the love of–! Here!" Kylie, always straight to the point, slammed a boxed set of five books down onto the table. And then, she reached into her backpack and pulled out five more, all hardcover. (Absentmindedly, Percy wondered how she had managed to fit all ten of those books into her bag. And why was she carrying them around school? She hated reading with a passion.) "Recognize these?"

Percy pulled the first book out of the box and looked at the title with eyes wide first from trying to decipher whatever it said, and then from paralyzing shock.

"No…" he breathes, thumb lightly tracing up the spine, feeling the embossed words and trying to be sure they were real. "This isn't… Is it really…?" Printed in dull gold letters at the top of the cover was the title of the book: Percy Jackson & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief.

"Open to a random page," Jeremy urged, no longer stammering, and Percy did, almost unwillingly. He just had to see if…

We huddled in the corner on some mildewed feed sacks, trying to ignore the smell and the heat and the flies. Grover talked to the animals in a series of goat bleats, but they just stared at him sadly. Annabeth was in favor of breaking the cages and freeing them on the spot, but I pointed out it wouldn't do much good until the truck stopped moving. Besides, I had a feeling we might look a lot better to the lion than those turnips.

"Recognize that?" Kylie asked him snidely, but there was a hint of fear underlying her voice. Percy looked back up at his friends, shocked.

"Where did you get this? And what's in those?" he demanded. Allie spoke up, sounding timid but determined, her cheeks still flushed.

"Only everything you've done since you were twelve, including where you were when you weren't here," she said. "The question is, are they true?"

Jason snorted out a laugh. "Course they're not. Demigods don't exist," he claimed. "And Percy isn't tough enough to handle being one anyways. Right Percy? You don't have a camp necklace or a magic sword or a shield in your wristwatch. Right?"

His four friends leaned forward in anticipation.

"Percy," Kylie said, softer this time. "Tell us these aren't true."

But Percy said nothing. He stared at the table, wishing he could burn a hole into the faux wood with his stare.

Meanwhile, his friends stared back at his face, which was burning bright red, and eyed his wicked scars and toned muscled that could only have come from rigorous training, and their expressions began shifting one by one from impatient to shocked.

"Come on Percy. Quit playing around," Allie begged. "Tell me these are false so I don't have to worry about this kind of thing happening whenever I pick up a book. Please!"

Percy swallowed and looked back up at the faces of his friends. He suddenly regretted demanding them to tell him what was bothering them. The truth was burning inside of him, turning his blood to fire and his tongue to sand. "I can't. You weren't supposed to find out," he said, and he hoped those words conveyed all of the apologies his mind was creating. Somehow the long shirtsleeve on his left forearm was pulled up to his elbow and a burn gleamed up at the five of them: an elaborate black trident, the acronym SQPR and a single solid black stripe. Allie and Kylie let out strangled gasps. Every instinct he had was screaming at him to cover his arm and his face and run all the way back to Camp Half-Blood, where at least the stares were appreciative and not hostile, but he stayed frozen in place, eyes roving over the faces of his friends.

Percy took a moment to laugh internally at the dramatic reaction, despite the butterflies chewing away at his stomach. Cliché much?

After a long moment, Jason took Percy's arm hesitantly in his hands. "You saved Manhattan. You saved the world. You were offered immortality," he said, finger running over the charred skin with trembling gentleness. "You're the son of Poseidon."

And Percy, poor deer-caught-in-headlights, saved the world from Titans and Giants and Gods know what else Percy, was heroically brave in all moments of his life except those where his entire existence had been laid bare before people who would never understand or relate to his lifestyle in anyway. People who never knew the tight schedules or strict diets of Camp Half-Blood, who had never taken the classes of archery and mythology and wound tending instead of chemistry and algebra II and U.S. history. People who had never felt adrenaline quite like the kind that flooded your veins as you stared down a monster, prepping for a fight. People whose lives revolved around food and clothes and technology and homework, not making weapons and fighting for their lives. It was funny, really, that Percy was for all intents motionless. He certainly had no words that could describe what he was feeling as the stares of four regular people pinned him to his very chair.

It was funny, really, because Percy could strike down Titans, but in front of mortals, he could still do no more than nod and pray.

a/n: Okay, major plot-bunny reliever. Like, it sucks. Seriously. But I posted it because I don't see many- if any- takes on what would happen if suddenly, the mortals knew everything. And it irked me. So maybe you guys will appreciate the effort. ;)

Review anyways!

UPDATE, 7.13.15: Yeah, this has been through some pretty rigorous revising and editing. Do you even realize how terrible that ending originally was? (Hopefully it's all better now, idrk). I was honestly surprised (and touched, don't get me wrong) over how many people seemed to enjoy this one-shot that I thought sucked big time. Also, the next "chapter" is just me shamelessly boosting my story to the top of the updated list (and notifying my followers, I'm not going to edit this and not tell anyone kind enough to follow me). Sorry to get your hopes up only to crush your dreams.

It is 1:30ish Texas time, and this is GIT (yeah, I realize how that looks) signing off. Till next time folks!