Chapter Text
Some days, you wake up and you just know it’s going to be a great day. The sun is shining, the birds are singing, the flowers are in full bloom—everything is going so perfectly that the rest of the day should follow, right?
Yeah, I’ve never had one of those days. If I ever did, I’d be worried something terrible would happen to balance it out, like Papa deciding to send me back to the hotel, or Mama deciding not to visit me until I stop causing problems at school. It wasn’t my fault the lab caught fire—okay, so I was the only one in the room, but that didn’t make it my fault! The botanical garden had taken full responsibility for that thing with the Rafflesia. And, no matter what anyone said, I had nothing to do with those dinosaur fossils—that they fell around Nancy Bobofit while she was making fun of that crippled older kid was a coincidence, okay?
Anyways, my name is Niccolò di Angelo, but just Nico is fine, not even my Mama calls me Niccolò. I’m eleven years (and ten months!) old, and I have rotten luck and terrible memory problems. Mama said I’d had a pretty bad accident when I was younger, a fall that had made me forget almost everything from my childhood. Apparently, it was during a pretty bad thunderstorm, so Mama and Papa had both made me swear that I’d never go outside when there was lightning—even rain got a pretty heavy frown. I wasn’t allowed in the ocean either, something Papa was only slightly less adamant about than the lightning. Which sucked, because I loved the water. The sound of the rain, the smell of the ocean, the feeling of peace that came with being around water. Mama had said once that we used to live in Venice and it was just the memory that I liked, but it was more than that.
Well, not that it mattered, what Papa and Mama says, goes.
Today was another visitor’s day at Yancy Academy, a Private School for ‘troubled kids’ in New York. Was I troubled? A little, I guess.
It wasn’t my memory issues, though those weren’t fun. Or all the unfortunate stuff that happened around me—totally not my fault. No, my troubles start in my head. I’m… different. I see things other people don’t see. I’m talking colossal dogs the size of horses that could vanish into shadows, pretty ladies that turned into trees, even what I swear was the ghost of an old greek guy—he’d said his name was Minos or something, but I’d never seen him again after mentioning it to Mama. Mama says I’m special, that everything about me will make sense some day, but she has to say that kind of stuff, she’s my mom. But I know I’m just a freak. Even if she’s right, that won’t change the other thing that makes me, different.
I’m… not straight. Ugh, I can’t even say it. And God knows I’ll never be able to admit it to anyone else. What would even be the point? So that the other kids can have even more reasons to bully me? Yeah, no thanks. They already insult my eyes (they’re my Mama’s eyes, and they’re beautiful!), my accent (and I barely even have one), and my grades (apparently, caring about doing well in school is grounds for mocking), no reason to give them any more ammo.
Anyways, Mama always made the monthly trip on visitor’s day. Papa tried, but he was always busy, so I usually only saw him during the holidays.
Today, like every visitor’s day, was a weekend, and I practically flew through breakfast faster than that older kid on enchilada day. As soon as my plate was empty I ran out of the room and towards the garden, where Mama always shows up. Like every time I met her in the garden, Mama was admiring the flowers. The flowers were always in bloom when Mama was around, probably because she was so pretty they felt like they had to compete—not that they could.
“Mama!” I called out the moment I saw her. She turned to me, a floral dress—that probably cost Papa more than the servants make in a year—clinging to her form, and she shot me the smile that always made my day a million times better (no wonder Papa put up with Nonna every year, even though she was really mean to him sometimes—Mama’s smile was always worth it).
“Nico!” Mama hugged me tight, her earthy, floral scent enveloping me. Everything was right in my world. “Oh my little flower bud, I’ve missed you so.”
“I missed you too Mama, I always do.”
We both squeezed tighter, but eventually Mama relaxed her arms and I took the cue to do the same. Mama tugged me down, laying my head on her lap before she asked, “And how has school been? Anything exciting? Any new friends?”
“Same old, same old. Mrs. Dodds is thinking about bumping me to Pre-Algebra next semester.”
Mama beamed, the air seeming to fill with warmth as she spoke, “My little genius!”
I flushed and immediately turned away. “I’m not a genius, Mama. It’s just one class.”
“Just one class for now,” she said matter of factly, before carding her hands through my dark curls and making me melt. “Just a year was enough for you to learn English, and your Biology teacher was singing your praises too. I’m sure you’ll be bumped up a grade this year.”
“I guess.” Not like it would change anything.
Mama must have heard something in my tone, because she frowned. “Is something wrong?”
I tried to shrug it off, but Mama can always see right through me. “It… won’t change anything. I’ll just be alone with different kids to make fun of me.”
Mama’s frown deepened, and I swear the flowers were shaking too. “You won’t be alone forever, Nico. I swear it to you. We’ll settle everything at home and we’ll be a family again.”
“But Bianca will still be gone.” I blurted out without meaning to. Mama’s eyes, the beautiful golden brown that I’d inherited, turned dark and sad. I immediately felt guilty. I hated bringing up Bianca, hated making Mama and Papa sad, but we couldn’t be a family anymore. Not a full one, at least. Bianca had left us, left me, and sometimes I worried it had broken some part of me that’d never be fixed, no matter how much Mama and Papa tried.
“She may be gone, but she’ll always be with us. Right here,” Mama tapped my chest, cupping my heart. “As long as you remember how much she loved you, she’ll never truly be gone.”
“But she left. She didn’t-!” Want me. Want our family. Want to stay.
Mama shushed me. “I know it hurts, Nico. It hurt us too, but that pain, that grief my little flower bud, is proof that we love her still. And what is grief, if not love persevering in the void left behind.”
I knew Mama was right, but, “Love sucks.”
Mama hummed noncommittally in response, before grabbing at some of the flowers around us. “Sometimes, sweetheart. But not always, and if you’re very lucky,” Mama smiled softly, weaving the flowers into a crown on my head. “Love will make you so very happy. Like your Papa and I, when we had you.”
I can feel my face heating up into my ears—god, Mama could be so sappy! “Mama!” I groaned, burying my head into her stomach. Mama just laughed, a gentle sound that chased away the lingering sadness from talking about Bianca.
Mama and I spent the rest of the hour just chatting, occasionally I would try to pull off the flower crown, but Mama would lightly chastise me and put it gently back in place. When the hour was over we squeezed each other as tightly as we had when we’d started the hour, and then we went our separate ways. It always sucked when we had to part, like Winter was starting and everything just felt all cold and empty.
Maybe that’s why I forgot to take off the crown.
“Well well well, look at the little Princess!” I flinched. There’s only one person Terrence Cole would be talking to like that. My being shoved into the wall after confirmed it.
Terrence Cole was a heavily muscled teenager, quick on the field and even quicker to anger. I was a lot ashamed to admit I’d once thought he was, not terrible to look at, with his dark red hair and pale blue eyes. But his laser focus on pushing me around every time he saw me killed that deader than a fly caught in a Venus flytrap. Behind him were Noah Banks and Ian Richardson, because when would I ever have any luck.
Noah Banks was a slender boy a year older than me, with dirty blond hair in a crew cut and permanently angry brown eyes. He was one of the people at Yancy that had seen me talking with one of the things no one else saw—specifically, one of the large shadow dogs—and unlike the rest he’d taken it as a personal mission to make my life miserable. Mostly, by making fun of me in petty ways, like my name and accent.
And Ian… Ian had been my friend. Or, so I’d thought. I’d been so stupid, thinking that just because we’d had a project together and he was nice that we could be actual friends. I’d told him so, so much. About Bianca, about my stay in the hotel before starting here last year, I’d even almost felt comfortable enough to hint at… But once I’d done better than him in class, everything I’d told him in private came out to cut me like a knife.
The Terrible Trio, my personal tormentors.
“Just leave me alone.” I tried to say firmly, but despite my best efforts my voice wavered.
“What’s that? Sorry, we no speaky zi italian.” The cruel smiles on their faces was almost as annoying as the bad Italian accent.
I took a deep breath and tried to channel my Papa at his most angry. “Look, we don’t have to do this right now. Let’s just-” Terrence punched his fist into the wall beside my head, and I immediately dropped to the floor.
Okay, they were madder than usual—preparing to assume fetal position. “Pretty Pick Me Nicky, no one was calling on you.”
Noah sneered as he added, “More like Nicky Di Fagelo.” My heart dropped into my stomach. Ian didn’t. Telling them about Bianca was bad enough! It must have shown on my face, because their smiles widened.
Ian took a shot next, smug smile on his face as he said, “Do you like being on your knees? It’s where you’ll be spending all your time anyways.” Stop it.
“Probably already does. Mr. Brunner is always eyeing him, and everyone knows how ‘Perfect’ Di Fagelo feels about damaged goods.” Please go away.
“Aww, you gonna cry? Everyone knows it’s true.” It’s not! I’m not!
“Probably why his sister ran away—ashamed to have a faggot for a little brother.” I broke, loud sobs filling the air before I managed to curl up enough to muffle them.
The other two laughed. “I know I would be!” / “Right!”
They’re wrong, they’re wrongthey’rewrong! That’s not why she left! It’s not my fault! It’s notit’s notit’s not!
One of them, probably Terrence, kicked me, but I barely felt it through the ice swallowing me up from the inside.
Why were they doing this? What did I even do? I didn’t have any answers, and my ears were ringing so loudly I could barely hear my own sobs, let alone the rest of their insults.
So I was probably more shocked than they were when another boy tackled them.
“Lay off him!” The boy was about the same age as my tormentors, wearing the same uniform we all were, but he somehow made it look messy.
“The heck, Jackson? Mind your own business!”
“Maybe I would if you guys weren’t being such jerks! I saw you kick him!”
“So what if we did? You’re on probation, Jackson. One more strike and you’re out. And it’d be your word against ours.” Ian was always like this, just clever enough to hint at something, without ever saying anything incriminating. Jackson’s face was going red—with anger, shame? I didn’t know, but it stood out against his messy black hair and pretty green (or blue? Both?) eyes.
“Just walk away, Jackson. Little Princess here is only getting what she deserves.” I hated that there was a part of me that agreed. I wasn’t worth it. I was a freak, a fairy, a… a fa-
Jackson jumped at Terrence, knocking him to the floor. “Then I better make it worth it!”
“The heck- Get off me!”
“Don’t feel like it!” Terrence and Jackson struggled against each other, and Jackson was winning too, when Noah and Ian intervened and grabbed Jackson by the arms. “Hey, let go! What, you so pathetic you can’t win a fight without your lackeys-?!” Terrence socked Jackson in the gut, cutting him off. That’s why I never fought back, only had to have that happen once to learn my lesson. Really, once you curled up and waited for it to be over, it didn’t take very long at all. The bruises usually vanished after a few days, and the tears washed away as easily as the blood.
It wasn’t, worth it. Really.
So then, why was I getting up?
“Leave him alone!” I screamed as I tackled Noah to the floor. The fight turns a little more fair at that point, Jackson manages to kick Terrence away long enough to break out of Ian’s hold, while I mostly rolled around on the floor with Noah—ugh, that sounds wrong even in my head, I can do so much better.
For a moment it feels like we might have this—and then Jackson takes a second blow to the stomach and falls over, groaning. Immediately, I try to rush over to help, but Noah trips me as I’m getting up and keeps me pinned. I’ve never felt so useless, like a male mangosteen flower anything I might have provided ultimately left us in the exact place we were always going to end up.
“I am going to enjoy this, Jackson,” Terrence said with a malicious smirk, fist pulling back. I didn’t want to see it, but this was my fault, so I felt like I had to watch—
“What, is going on here.” We all froze. For an instant, I think all our hearts stopped at the same time. Mrs. Dodds was the Pre-Algebra Teacher, and also my Papa’s Head Secretary—no, I had no idea how she managed to do two jobs, three technically because she was also Papa’s lawyer, but if there was one thing you didn’t do, it was question Mrs. Dodds. Sometimes, I think she scared Papa, and only Mama could do that normally. Her eyes narrowed, briefly settling on me before a cold fire filled her eyes and she turned towards the rest, “I asked you boys a question.”
“I-it was Jackson! And Di F-” Ian jabbed Terrence and he quickly corrected, “-di Angelo. They started it!”
Mrs. Dodds eyes narrowed. “Is that so?” She barked.
“Oh yeah!” / “Totally!” Ian and Noah both smiled innocently at her, like butter wouldn’t melt in their mouths. Oh, we were so-
“I’ve heard all I need to hear, then,” her voice was as cold and eerie as the Hydnellum Peckii—the bleeding tooth fungus, if you didn’t have a flower encyclopedia in your brain.
-I must have taken a really long blink, because the next thing I saw was Mrs. Dodds yanking Terrence and Ian by the ear with one hand, and Noah’s with the other. “There’s a special punishment for boys who lie.”
“OW!” / “Let go! / “You’re hurting us!”
“Quiet. Or would you like to learn what I do to boys who wag their useless tongues.” Her frigid, ominous tone shut me up, and I wasn’t even the one she was talking to. Needless to say, the Terrible Trio snapped their mouths shut and barely made more than pained grunts as Mrs. Dodds led them away.
Jackson and I stood in the hall, a long, tense moment passing before I mustered up the courage to break it. “Th-thank you for rescuing me, J-jackson.”
“I really wasn’t much help,” Jackson said, an awkward smile on his face. “And it’s not Jackson—I mean, Jackson is my last name. I’m Perseus-ah, why did I say that?” He groaned aloud, tapping a knuckle against his head like he wanted to knock some sense into himself. “Forget it, just call me Percy, please,” Percy finished with a smile that sent my heart into my stomach—but, like, in a good way?
“I’m, Niccolò.” I’m blushing, I know I am, and I don’t know why?! “But, um, everyone calls me Nico. It’s, a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Percy.” Oh god why did I say that?! He’s not one of my Papa’s business partners, he’s gonna think I’m so lame!
Percy laughed, but it was warm, not mocking. “Hehe, I don’t think anyone has ever called it a pleasure to meet me, Nico, but thanks.” His smile was somehow even warmer, or at least it made me feel that way, as he added, “I like your flowers. I didn’t know roses could be blue, that’s awesome! It’s my favorite color, you know?”
“Roses?” I reached up to grab it, but Percy beat me to it, gently tugging the crown off my head and offering it to me with a roguish grin. The crown was all deep blue roses, the stems a vibrant green like they’d never left the earth—the Rosa Niccolo, and it was so embarrassing that my Mama had created a new species of flower just to name it after me! I flushed even more and groaned aloud. Mama!
“They’re really pretty! But, uh, you don’t seem so happy about it?” Percy said with a sheepish grin.
“Because Mama is always doing this! She always trying to get me to wear blue roses, and it’s not that I don’t like them but, I’m a boy! Boys can’t…” I trailed off.
Percy hummed thoughtfully, “Maybe most boys can’t.” Then, with gentle hands, Percy tucked the crown back onto my head. “But, they look great on you,” Percy added with a warm smile. I flushed down to the roots of my hair, burying my face in my hands, and Percy just chuckled fondly.
Oh no, I think I’m in love—
“Aww, don’t be shy-” Percy tripped, seemingly on thin air, and fell to the floor with a loud groan. “Oww… I mean, I meant to do that?”
—with an idiot.