Chapter 2

THREE OLD LADIES KNIT THE SOCKS OF DEATH

I was used to the occasional weird experience, guys with one eye, weird ladies with a donkey leg, but usually they were gone as soon as they came. This whole 24/7 thing was more than I was willing to handle. For the rest of the damn school year, the entire fucking campus seemed to be playing a sick prank on me, and soon, someone was going to get punched. Every single student acted one hundred percent convinced that Mrs. Kerr–a perky blond woman I've never seen before until she boarded the bus with us at the end of the field trip–had been our teacher since Christmas.

Every once in a while I would randomly tell somebody a Mrs. Dodds reference, hoping to catch them off guard and give me some proof, any proof, that Mrs. Dodds existed. They only avoided my gaze, afraid of bursting my bubble and letting loose my anger on them (if you can't tell by now, I'm the "bad girl" of the school).

It got to the point I almost gave up.

Almost.

But honestly, who didn't think it was Grover? Whenever I even mentioned her name, he would hesitate, and then claim she didn't exist. In all fairness, he tried. But I'm too damn good. (Never mind the fact that he's bad at lying)

Something fishy was going on, and I was determined to find out. I was totally convinced that this had something to do with the Greek Gods.

I didn't think about it much in the day, but at night, visions of Mrs. Dodds swarmed my head. But I wasn't no punk, so it didn't bother me at all.

The freak weather continued, and my mood seemed to reflect that. One night, a thunderstorm blew out the windows in my dorm room, which I was fucking pissed about by the way. A few days later, the biggest tornado ever spotted in the Hudson Valley touched down only fifty fucking miles from Yancy, which scared the shit out of me. One of the current events we studied in S.S. was the oddly high numbers of small planes that had gone down in sudden squalls in the Atlantic this year.

I started feeling cranky and irritable, well, more than I usually am. My grades slipped from a solid B+ to a B- (I know it's not that much but I don't let my emotions get the best of me when it comes to grades). I got into more fights with Nancy and her stupid friends. I was sent into the hallway in every class, but still managed to keep my grades decent with Grover's help.

Finally, when our English teacher, Mr. Nicoll, asked me for the hundredth time why I was too lazy to study for my spelling tests, even though he knew I had dyslexia, I snapped. I called him an ignorant motherfucker. I know, a little harsh, but you don't pick on people with metal disabilities. Especially the hot headed ones, aka me.

The headmaster sent my mom a letter the next week, making it official, stamp and all: I would not be invited to Yancy next year.

Fan-Fucking-Tastic, I told myself. See if I give a shit.

I was homesick anyways.

I just wanted to be with my mom in our little apartment on the Upper East Side, even if I had to put up with the annoying kids at a public school and deal with my perverted stepfather and his stupid ass poker parties.

But still... there were things I'd miss her at Yancy. The amazing view of the woods out my dorm window, the Hudson River in the distance, and the intoxicating smell of pine trees. I'd very much miss Grover, who'd been an amazing friend, even if he was a little nuts-o. I worried how he'd survive next year, what with all the bullies and no me to protect him.

I'd miss Latin class too, Mr. Brunner's crazy tournament days and his belief that I could do well, despite my disabilities.

As exam weeks got closer, Latin was the only thing I studied for. I hadn't forgotten Mr. Brunner's little life and death speech he gave me in the museum. That just fueled my determination to do better.

The evening before finals, I got so pissed off I threw my Cambridge Guide to Greek Mythology across my dorm room. The words had started circling the page, something that only happened when I was angry, circling my head, the letters like skateboards, doing complete one-eighties. There was no way I was going to pass this; I knew the difference between Charon and Chiron or Polydictes and Polydeuces, it was the spelling I couldn't get down. And conjugating those Latin verbs? Piece of cake! Not.

I paced the room, feeling itchy all of a sudden, like thousands of ants crawling on my skin.

I remembered Mr. Brunner's encouraging words-his one thousand year old eyes. He would only accept the best from me.

I took a huge, calming breath and picked up the insufferable mythology book.

I never wanted to ask a teacher for help, they usually got really impatient with me or gave up all together. Maybe if I talked to Mr. Brunner, he wouldn't criticize me, he just seemed different. Maybe I could apologize for the huge C- I'd get on this exam. I didn't want to leave with him thinking I was an ungrateful brat that didn't even try this year.

I tip-toed downstairs to the faculty offices. Almost all of them we dark and empty, creeping the shit out of me. Mr. Brunner's door was the only one slightly ajar, the light from his window casting an eerie sense of creepiness in the hallway.

I was on my last steps to the door when I froze. I heard more than one voice inside. It was the nervous voice of Grover saying, "... worried about Percy, sir."

I completely stilled.

I always took a chance at eavesdropping, it didn't bother me much. But this conversation felt like it was on an entirely different level of importance than what I'm used to. But hey, can you blame me? My best friend is talking about me to a teacher! I needed answers.

I inched a tad closer, so that I was right by the crack in the door.

"... alone this summer," was all I caught Grover saying. "I mean a Kindly One in the school! Now that we know for sure, they know too-"

I knew Mrs. Dodds was real! But they called her a Kindly One. Wonder what that is...

"We would only make matters worse by rushing her," the wise voice that could only be Mr. Brunner said. "We need the girl to mature more, maybe become less... hostile."

"But she may not have time! She's perfectly fine anyways! The summer solstice deadline-"

"Will have to be resolved without her, Grover. Let her enjoy her semi-ignorance while she still can, I have a feeling she knows more than she's letting on."

"Sir, she saw her..."

Well, duh, I thought we already established this.

"Her imagination," Mr. Brunner insisted. "The Mist over the students and staff will be enough to convince her of that."

Yeah, sure, let's go with that. I knew Mrs. Dodds was real, some idiot teachers and students weren't going to convince me otherwise.

"Sir, I...I can't fail my duties again." Grover's voice was choked with emotion. "You know what that would mean."

Poor dude... I'll make him feel better back at our dorm room.

"You haven't failed, Grover," Mr. Brunner said, the ever-so-kindly one. "I should've seen her for who she was. Now, let's just worry about keeping Percy alive until next fall, alright?"

I almost dropped my mythology book from shock, but I am an expert, so I kept a tight hold on it. I let out a sigh of relief, then stiffened at my mistake as I heard Mr. Brunner stop talking.

Shit shit shit, I silently cursed to myself over and over again for my stupidity, I slowly backed down the hall.

I saw a shadow slid across the lit up glass of Mr. Brunner's room, something much bigger than the wheel-bound teacher I know, only further proving my point that Mr. Brunner was hiding something. He looked to be holding something like an archer's bow, scaring me because I was afraid he might shoot me in panic if he saw me running.

So I opened the nearest classroom door and slipped right in, just as Mr. Brunner exited his room.

A few excruciating seconds later, I heard a slow clop-clop-clop, like horse hooves, then a sound like a dog snuffling came from right outside the door. A large, dark shape that looked like a man on a horse paused in front of the glass, then moved on.

I breathed, quietly this time, a small sigh of relief.

I finally put the pieces together. Greek mythology is real. Mr. Brunner was a centaur (maybe, I don't really know. It's an educated guess). And Grover was in on it too. My thoughts were interrupted by Mr. Brunner's voice.

"Nothing," he murmured. "My nerves haven't been right since the winter solstice."

"Same," Grover said cautiously. "But I could've sworn..."

"Go back to yours and young Persephone's dorm," Mr. Brunner told him. "You've got a long day of exams tomorrow."

"Don't remind me," Grover said miserably.

The lights finally went out in Mr. Brunner's room.

I waited for minutes that felt like several hours before I dubbed it safe enough to leave.

Finally, I silently slipped out of the classroom, into the hallway, and made my way back to my dorm.

Grover, the sneaky bastard, was lying on his bed innocently, studying his Latin exam notes like he'd been there all night and not talking about me behind my back.

"Hey," he said, bleary-eyed. "You ready for this test tomorrow?"

I didn't answer, too wrapped up in my thoughts trying to put more puzzle pieces together.

"You look awful." He frowned. "Is everything okay?"

Oh, you know, I just secretly eavesdropped on you and found out I might die... but yeah let's worry about exams. But I decided to not say that, as that would cause even more problems than I could possibly handle.

"Just... so fucking tired," I half-lied. I was honestly about to drop dead of exhaustion. So much for making Grover feel better. I know, I'm a great friend.

But I turned so he couldn't see that I was lying and set about getting ready for bed.

I partially understood what I'd heard downstairs. It was just more and more pieces for this huge puzzle that I'm trying to solve.

But one thing was absolutely clear: the Greek Gods are real and I'm in some kind of danger. What's fucking new?

The next afternoon, as I was leaving the fucking three-hour Latin exam, going over all the Greek and Roman names I misspelled on the exam in my head, Mr. Brunner, for whatever reason, called me back inside.

For a split, terrifying second, I was worried he had deduced that it was me who had eavesdropped on him last night . That, thankfully, wasn't the problem.

"Persep-Percy," he started until he saw my glare. "Don't be discouraged about leaving Yancy. It's...it's for the best."

His tone was kind enough, but his words still made me fill with disappointment, at him and myself. At myself for not being good enough, and at Mr. Brunner because I thought he was different, I thought he would keep believing that I would do great things. And even though he was speaking quietly, the other kids finishing their test could hear him. Nancy Bobofit was about to smirk, before she abruptly stopped and looked down at her desk from my withering glare, daring her to do something.

"Yeah. Ok. Whatever," I said, just loud enough for only him to hear me.

"I mean..." Mr. Brunner wheeled his chair back and forth, like he wasn't sure what to say. "You're a very bright girl, but this just isn't the right place for you. It was only a matter of time."

My eyes held a look of disappointment that only I knew was there.

Here was the only teacher I liked, in front of the whole fucking class no less, telling me I basically wasn't smart enough. After saying he believed in me all year long, now here he was, telling me I was going to get kicked out from the very beginning. What happened to tact? Cause he has none.

"Right I'm just one big fuck up who can't stay in school. Just another student in your everlasting career, right?" I said rudely. It was, after all, how I thought of myself, despite the confident facade I put on.

"No, no, oh heavens no," Brunner said. "Oh confound it all. What I'm trying to say... you're not normal, Percy. Trust me, that's nothing to be ashamed of!" He said quietly, finally getting a peak into how I really felt about myself.

"I get it," I said, "but just because being different is good doesn't mean it's accepted."

"Percy-" he started, slightly curious on what my life before sixth-grade was like. Well guess what? He wasn't gonna find out anytime soon.

But I was already gone, trying so hard to push down the horrifying memories of my past.

Line Break

On the long awaited last day of the term, I violently shoved my clothes into my huge suitcase.

The other guys were joking around, taking about their quote on quote "fun and exotic vacation plans". One of them was going on a hiking trip to Switzerland. Amazing! Another was cruising the Caribbean for a month. Cool! (Notice my sarcasm). But they were juvenile delinquents, like me, the only difference, they're rich. Their daddies and mommies were executives, or ambassadors, or even celebrities! I was just a nobody, from a family of nobodies, bar my mom.

Some guy came up to me and pretended to be interested in what I was doing this summer. I told them I was going back into the city.

What he didn't know is that I'd be getting a summer job like walking dogs in the burning sun or selling boring magazine subscriptions. Oh, and don't forget worrying about which school I'll be going to in the fall.

"Oh," one of the guys said, trying to act interested. "That's cool and I was wondering-"

"Not interested," I stated bluntly. I was so tired of this shit and stupid boys flirting on me.

"Oh."

He then went back to his conversation like I was never even there. That just made me even more pissed than I was before, I was just going to be used. Look! That cool dude over there scored with the trouble maker! Awesome! Yeah, can you say not interested?

The only person I actually dreaded saying goodbye to was my amazing best friend Grover. Turns out, I didn't have to. Grover 'coincidentally' booked a ticket to Manhattan to the same damned Greyhound as me. So here I was, on a sweaty and smelly bus with my friend Grover, heading to the city.

Oddly enough, Grover kept glancing nervously down the aisle, watching the other passengers, as if they would all turn into flesh eating monsters like Mrs. Dodds.

I happened to notice that Grover was always skittish when leaving Yancy, like he expected something terrible to happen. Before I found out about the whole Greek Gods thing, I assumed it was because he was scared or being teased (even though I was there so he had nothing to worry about). But everyone on the Greyhound was an adult, they wouldn't tease a random teenager. Now, I know he was looking for monsters.

Finally, I decided to give my good ol' friend a heart attack.

"Looking for Kindly Ones, Grover?" I asked, faking innocence.

Grover nearly jumped out of his chair, making me stifle my laughter, even though a few chuckles escaped "Wha-what do you mean?"

"Don't play dumb with me, idiot!" I said before I confessed about eavesdropping on him and Mr. Brunner.

"I'm not an idiot! And, uh, how much did you hear?" He asked as his eye twitched violently, at me or the situation I didn't know.

"Oh not much... What's the summer solstice deadline, huh?"

He winced. "So everything? But you gotta understand Percy... I was just worried about you, you know?" He started as he nervously fiddled with his hands, an obvious trait of a liar. "I mean, hallucinating about demon math teachers..."

"Bitch, I was not halluci-"

"And I was telling Mr. Brunner that maybe the finals were getting to you, because Mrs. Dodds doesn't even exist, and..."

"BITCH! I WAS NOT HALLUCINATING!" I shouted, earning myself scolding looks from adults, which I promptly ignored. "You're a fucking terrible liar."

He was surprised at my outburst but had the decency to look sheepish as his ears turned bright pink. I'm talking six-year-old princess room pink, it was almost enough to make me laugh if the situation wasn't so tense.

Grumbling, he stuck his hand in his shirt pocket and fished out a nasty ass business card that I didn't want to pick up. I was not about to get no fucked up disease like herpes for touching that thing. "Just take this, okay? In case you need me this summer."

The card had really fancy script, which was 1st degree murder on my dyslexic eyes. "Bitch, you expect me to read this shit! You know I'm dyslexic!" I berated him. I mean, come on, seriously?

"Just read it," he said, exasperated.

I grumbled some rated R words under my breath but made it out anyways.

Grover Underwood

Keeper

Half-Blood Hill

Long Island, New York

(800) 009-0009 (weird shit, man. Wtf kinda phone number is that?)

"What the hell is Half-"

"Don't say it aloud!" He yelped. "That's my, um... summer address."

My spirits dwindled a little. Of course Grover had a summer home. Of course he was rich. Why wouldn't he be?

"Oh," I said, trying to keep the negativity out of my voice. "So if I want to visit your big ass mansion and feel bad about my life?"

He quickly shook his head. "No! I meant if you needed me or something."

"And why the hell would I need you?"

It came out a little harsher than intended.

Grover looked like a tomato by how red he was. "Look, Percy, the truth is, I, um, I kinda have to, uh, protect you," he stuttered.

I just looked at him incredulously. Him, protect me? I almost laughed.

Almost.

I mean all year long, I'd gotten into countless fights, leaving my knuckles bruised for the rest of that quarter, to protect him from bullies. Hell, I'd even lost my precious sleep worrying how he wouldn't get beat up next year without me. And her he was, the bastard, acting like he was the one protecting me.

"Grover," I said carefully, "what the hell are you protecting me from? I can handle myself. You know that."

He opened his mouth like he was going to answer, but before he could answer, there was a huge grinding noise. Smelly black smoke poured from the dashboard and wafted into the air with the sickening smell of rotten eggs. The driver cursed, they weren't very nice mind you, and pulled the struggling Greyhound over to the side of the deserted highway.

After a few minutes of noisily clanking around in the engine compartment, the driver announced that we'd all have to get off. Remember, it's summer and 90° out. Reluctantly, Grover and I filed outside with all the others. There were some important looking people checking their watches and tapping their feet impatiently like a couple minutes would hurt them. Rich people, so douche-y and impatient.

Sadly, we were on a long stretch of country road-no one would noticed that we'd broken down. On our side of the highway, there was nothing but huge maple trees and disgusting litter from disgusting people probably driving their disgusting car. I hate litter, it pollutes the air and I happen to love looking at the sky. Anyway, on the other side, across four lines of cracked asphalt, was an old-fashioned fruit stand.

The stuff on sale looked absolutely delicious: stack after stack of boxes of blood red cherries and apples, just the way I like 'em; baskets of hard walnuts and soft apricots, I was really contemplating buying something by now; and huge jugs of cider in a claw-foot tub full of ice. Somehow there were no customers, the others didn't even bat an eye at them. It was just three old ladies sitting in rocking chairs in the cool shade of a tall maple tree, knitting the biggest pair of socks I'd ever seen in my whole god-damned life.

I'm not talking size 14 socks. I'm talking socks the size of sweaters you get from your grandma for Christmas. But they were obviously socks. The lady on the right knitted one of them. The lady on the left knitted the other. Lastly, the lady in the center held an enormous basket of electric-blue yarn.

All three woman looked ancient, like they'd turn to dust the minute you'd breathe on them. They all had paper white faces wrinkled like a rotten strawberry, moon silver hair tied up in white bandannas, and stick-bone arms poking out of bleached cotton dresses.

The creepiest thing? They were staring right at me.

I looked over at Grover to see if he was seeing what I was. But when I looked over, Grover was almost as pale as those ladies and his nose was twitching like a hamster.

"Grover?" I asked tentatively. "Hey, dude-"

"Please tell me they're not looking at you. Wait, don't tell me, they are, aren't they?" he rambled.

"Yeah. Kinda freaky if you ask me. Hey, you think those big socks would fit me? They're huge!" I joked, trying to lighten him up a little.

"Not funny at all, Percy, seriously."

This was so unlike Grover. He was never serious.

The old hag in the middle took out a long pair of wicked sharp scissors that were huge! They were gold and silver and looked a lot like shears. They must've been up to somethin' cause I heard Grover's breath catch.

"That's it, we're getting on the bus," he told me urgently. "Come on." He rushed.

"Are you insane?" I asked incredulously. "It's like a million fucking degrees in there!"

"Just come on!" He pried the door open roughly and shot inside, but I stayed back. Mostly because my feet were planted to the ground, literally. I couldn't move my feet no matter how much I struggled. It's like they wanted me to see this and wouldn't let me move. It was frustrating not having control over my body.

Across the road, the old hags were still creepily staring at me. All of a sudden, the middle one snipped the yarn, and I'm dead serious, the sound could be heard across four lanes of New York traffic. The two other identical hags balled up the huge electric-blue socks that could've been used for Godzilla or Bigfoot, making me wonder if it was real. I quickly dismissed that thought as I remembered Grover's panicked reaction when he saw them.

Weirdly enough, just as the ladies disappeared, the driver wrenched a big chunk of smoking metal out of the engine and the bus came to life.

The passengers cheered like they were stranded for 4 hours. Jeez people, it was only 5 minutes.

"Dam-darn right!" The driver yelled as he saw there were kids aboard. He slapped his hat on the bus for no reason at all. "Everybody back on board!"

Once we got going, I started feeling weird, feverish almost, as if I'd caught the flu. I bet it was the ladies because Grover didn't look too well either, he was shivering and his teeth were clanking together. Besides, from what I put together, Grover and I are the only mythological things on this bus as far as I know.

"Hey Grover?"

"Yeah?"

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU NOT TELLING ME?" I whisper-shouted menacingly.

He dabbed his sweaty forehead with his shirt sleeve. "Percy, what did you see back there at the fruit stand?"

"What kinda question is that? Obviously three old ladies. Are they like Mrs. Dodds too?"

I guess he thought I was talking about how dangerous they were judging by his hard to read expression. But no, I was asking if they were also apart of the myth world. He didn't seem to get the memo.

"Just tell me what you saw," he said nervously. Why is he always nervous?

"The hag in the middle cut the yarn with her massive scissors."

Right after I said that he closed his eyes and made a gesture with his fingers-it kinda looked like he was crossing himself but much, much older.

"So you saw her snip the cord?" he asked.

With startling realization, I figured out that those ladies were the three fates. I quickly covered my look of horror, so that Grover wouldn't see, and faked ignorance.

"Yeah. So?"

"This is not happening," Grover mumbled. Nice to know he cared. He started gnawing on his thumb. "I don't want this to be like last time."

Now that I didn't know about.

"What last time?"

"Always sixth grade. They never get past sixth."

"God dammit Grover!" I half-shouted to get his attention. "What the actual fuck are you talking about?"

"Let me walk you home from the bus station. Promise me," he said, for once dead serious.

I knew why of course. He wanted to make sure no more monsters were after me. I promised to him I would wait. Obviously I was lying. I get I'm in danger and all but I can protect myself. And I didn't want him to see my step-father, Gabe; he was a monster himself.

"Is this like superstition or something?" I asked, again feigning cluelessness.

Like I expected, no answer. Honesty, he sucks at his job, whatever it is.

"Grover-that snipping of the yarn. Judging by the way you're reacting I'm gonna assume I'm gonna die."

He looked at me momentarily surprised then mournfully, like he was already picking the flowers for my coffin. Such a drama queen.

There's another chapter done!

POLL

Who should Percy be with?

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