Athena

Chapter Two

I might have been a minor-almost-adult, but my intelligence didn't give me the excuse to graduate out of high school and head off to college. It was the selfishness of my parents to keep me around, most likely because I was their main source of income, and also the selfishness of my principal, because I attracted the attention of the press and scientists whenever I did something extraordinary.

I haven't studied for anything in my life, ever.

Along with my abnormal intelligence, my brain was also blessed with photographic memory. I'd already read hundreds of textbooks on various subjects by the time I turned fourteen.

Of course, I'm known to everyone at my school as the brainiac, but I'm also known as the bitch who doesn't know when to keep her mouth shut. Dr. Stanton was right. I had a bit of a superiority complex, but that was mainly because it was my decision to speak the unspoken truth that seemed to piss off everyone within a hundred foot radius of me.

"I can't believe her. She's such a loser."

I sighed as I heard the comments of those girls who were trying (not) to talk behind back. They weren't even talking behind my back; they sat two feet away at another table in the library trying to get a reaction out of me.

"Do you see those split ends? I'm going to cry my eyes out in disgust."

"Patricia, honey, you don't want to do that. It'll ruin your mascara," I mocked her in a high voice.

The blonde girl huffed and tossed her hair over her shoulders. "I'm Amy, not Patricia."

"And I don't care," I informed her, drifting my attention back to my book.

"Why are you such a bitch?" Her twin scoffed.

"Why are you such a slut?" I threw back at her, not bothering to look up to see her reaction. I knew for a fact that her jaw would drop at my bluntness, and I frankly didn't care. She followed me into the library, where I'd been peacefully reading and minding my own business.

"Take that back!" She yelled.

"Ladies," the librarian came over and glared at the two bimbos next to me. "This is a quiet area to study in. If you want to have a cat fight, go at it outside."

"She started it," Patricia rolled her eyes.

"And I'm ending it," the librarian told her. "Take your belongings and exit the library."

They reluctantly followed her instructions without a word, and I watched them exit the library, waving cynically when they looked back.

"Teenagers," the librarian muttered, shaking her head.

------------------

I only ever carried one pen with me, and that was a custom made Swarovski pen my brother presented to me my first day of high school.

So, when it ran out of ink during my journalism class, I was a little annoyed.

I scribbled furiously several times in the corner of the paper, trying to force the remains of any ink out, but it was to no avail. Sighing, I shoved the pen into the pocket of my bag and turned to the person next to me. He had his headphones on his head, and I knew he wouldn't be able to hear my if I spoke because his music was loud enough that I could make out the lyrics.

I tapped his shoulders, and the boy jumped in surprise, moving one end of his headphones as he turned to face me. "Yes?"

I forced a smile and waved. "Yeah, hi. My pen ran out of ink. Do you have one that I could borrow?"

The boy nodded his head and reached down to retrieve a pencil pouch from his backpack. He unzipped the black pouch and pulled out a blue pen for me. "Does this work?"

I nodded and took the pen from him. "Thanks."

I wasn't expecting a response, so I returned my attention to the paragraph I was writing, but the boy seemed to have a different idea.

"I'm Ben," he introduced, holding a hand out in my line of sight.

I looked up and shook his hand out of courtesy. "Athena."

I broke eye contact and again shifted my attention back to my notebook, but Ben interrupted again, and seemed to want to start a conversation, much to my annoyance.

"How long have you done journalism?" Ben asked me, and I reluctantly lifted my gaze.

"This is journalism four, so four years," I said. "Look, thanks for the pen, but I really don't want to hold a conversation right now."

Thinking that he finally got the message, I went back to scribbling on my paper about a gun store that recently opened up near the school. But, of course, this kid didn't get the message.

"What's your article on?" Ben asked me, glancing down at the paper for just a moment before looking back up. "And why isn't it saved online?"

"Why do you care so much?"

Ben shrugged in response. "I don't know, just a little curious."

"Curiosity killed the cat."

"The cat has nine lives."

"That was its last one."

"You really want me to shut up, don't you?"

"Glad you finally caught on."

"Is this what you do for fun? Embarrass people and force them to leave you?"

"I don't embarrass people," I frowned. "They're too idiotic to notice there mistakes until I point them out, and somehow that makes me the bad guy."

Ben raised his brows at me. "You're the bad guy because you call other people idiots."

"Idiocy is a thing. We can't make everyone feel smart because not everybody is," I told him.

"What, smart?" He asked.

"Yes."

"I don't agree with you on that. I think everyone is smart when they do their own thing. You obviously are smarter than the average human academically, but there are other areas people are smarter than you in."

"Oh, yeah?" I raised a brow in challenge. "Like what?"

"Sports," he answered.

"Sports is using your muscles, not your brain. Yes you can use tactics, but those only apply to the game, and not real life."

"Okay, fine. How about business?"

"Business uses a lot of math to analyze data and come up with a solution giving you the highest profits and the lowest risks."

"Art?"

"That's just using technique to display imagination. You can't be smart in art. It's a creative process and way of thinking."

"Do you have an answer prepared for everything?"

"Pretty much," I said, just as the bell rang. I closed my notebook and slung my bag onto my shoulder, leaving the pen on the desk. "Thanks for the ink."